Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

*LeChuck whistled to himself as he took the elevator ride down to the public sector of the space station. His eyes gazed over the thriving economy of the place, the pickpockets and thieves and rapists and murderers. There was a hierarchy of respect, of course. But fights broke out and people got killed. But what was he supposed to do. Babysit them? Bah, better to let the dumb ones weed themselves out, and let the silent killers master their craft from the shadows.*
*LeChuck was rough and brash, but far from dumb. There was almost always calculations in everything he did, from how he moved to how drunk he got (or pretended to be). Zanzibar was an excellent pirate and a captain of the ship, but he was not the master tactician that LeChuck was. Sure, he was good in a battle, and LeChuck would fight by his side anyway. But he couldn't plan attacks as well as LeChuck. This man was born to fight.
Ding
*He was there. The doors slowly and reluctantly scraped open. As LeChuck exited the RPG (Royal Pirate Guard, a bit of a joke amongst LeChuck and Zanzibar, since they were far from royalty) saluted him with their cutlasses and rifles. They had traditional weapons, but underneath their saliors clothes they harbored some of the most dangerous weapons in the universe. Most had been banned on Earth by the government, but there was no government rule here. LeChuck nodded to a few, grin on his face, as he walked down the gangway to the "Deck", the main level of the city, aptly named after what a seafaring vessel would call it. *
*LeChuck immediately took a blast of plasma in the shoulder. He yelled as his skin quickly patched itself back on*
"If I find ye, yer dead mate!"
*LeChuck walked on, moments later another blast came from the same place, hitting one of the barrels and shattering it. The wood fell on the ground as the beer spilled everywhere. LeChuck's eye began to twitch*
"You.....you......YAAARRRR!!!!"
*LeChuck charged at where the man was. The assailant came out of his hiding and began rapid fire on LeChuck. The plasma shots hit him and his flesh singed, but quickly became re-assimilated. After having seen LeChuck take 15 shots to the gut and still be chasing after him, the man dropped his rifle, turned, and ran. LeChuck's eyes gleamed with delight*
"Run, ye maggot! Ruuuun!"
*The man was running top speed, and after a minute or two was a half-mile from where he was. He sat down on a rusty pipe with his back to the wall, breathing heavily, thanking the gods he had made it out alive. He couldn't understand why he hadn't died. He had easily shot him 20 times....how could he--"
*The man's thinking was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a cutlass protruding from his chest. His mouth gaped open as his eyes slowly traveled downwards to see the blade dripping blood. LeChuck's head slowly came out of the wall behind him as he leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear*
"The gods won't save ya now, lad. Yer goin ta hell"
*The man's breathing slowed as he slumped, held up by LeChuck's blade. The cutlass was slowly withdrawn from the mans chest as LeChuck's head and cutlass sunk back into the wall. The man toppled forward and lay dead on the ground.*
*LeChuck re-materialized where he had found the man at first. He went back to pick up the second keg of beer he had put down the catch him, and found it gone. LeChuck let out a roar that shook the walls.*
"God damn thieves!"
*LeChuck grumbled as he stalked off towards his favorite pub, and where he would mostly definitely find either some good men, or some information on some good men. Either way, some men would be found, and the only real "if" was whether or not LeChuck would kill them or not.*

Sorry boys, been away for a bit. Buried in work from school and work from work. Haven't had much time to continue my story, and the other day I did a complete edit of a story that someone posted on here, but the comp froze and I went berserk.

I should be more consistent when I don't have as much work and midterms are over. Til then, I cant promise anything. But I'll try. Cheers

At 10/31/04 04:39 AM, FAB0L0US wrote: You stupid fucks, the war was not for oil.

Listen. The Caspian Sea, which is located very near to Iraq, directly next to Iran, is the worlds largest oil deposit in. the. world. And before you saw something dumb, the oil is underneath the sea. It's not a sea of oil. For you morons.

There is the pipeline. The pipeline runs from the Caspian Sea, through Iraq, and to the Persian Gulf. Saddam (Bush's enemy) happened to be sitting right smack dab in the middle of that pipelines path, making it impossible for Bushy-wushy to control it without *gasp* killing/capturing Saddam and conquering Iraq! So what did we do? Exactly

Now Bush has control of that pipeline. The Iraqis are blowing it up because they know that is what he wants. Halliburton has been given exclusive rights to drill. Surprise? Fuck no.

As soon as the pipeline is complete and safe Bush and his cronies will begin drilling for oil. They will transport it, and then we will no longer have to go through Saudi Arabia for oil. If Bush gets re-elected (GOD FORBID) expect attacks on Iran, and then Saudi Arabia. Or maybe not the Saudi's, b/c Bush was so buddy buddy with them when he helped plan 9/11. I live in New York and saw that and almost lost half my family. I was VERY passionate about finding out the facts. Bush absolutely had a hand in that. He was praying for it.

Ever daydream that some beautiful girl you knew would get in some kind of danger, and you would kill the monster and save the day? And then she would fall in love with you? Yes...Bush did the same thing with this country. Thank god I'm not ignorant gun-toting moron. Read some literature. Go volunteer at a hospital. Why are you going to waste time learning to kill people.

Stop being a pawn and open your eyes

At 11/1/04 09:28 AM, Baderact wrote: Zanzibar smoked a Cigar.

I'm leaving my character in LeChuck's control for now since I have a fuck load of work to do right now

Yarr! Okey-dokey matey. Time I be postin'!

*Lechuck reached for another chicken leg as a robot refilled his goblet of wine. He bit off a large chunk and proceeded to wave the leg at Zanzibar as he chewed, speaking*
"Ya know.....*smack chew smack....gulp* We should really strike soon. I mean, these bastards are gettin more an more time to prepare!"
*He slams his fist down on the table, upsetting the wine goblet and spilling wine all over his pants and fresh white blouse**
"Strike while the iron is hot!.....Oh bloody hell, now look what I've done. Robot! Bring me some clothes on the double, er I'll have yer hide for scrap metal!"
*A robot quickly complied, producing fresh pants and shirt from a compartment in the wall. LeChuck quickly changed as he eyed the robot. It was motionless. LeChuck snarled for a moment. In a flash his hand went from his pants to the table to the air behind him, and his sword was in his hand. he was motionless, and he watched as the robot slowly fell apart into 3 pieces. LeChuck grinned his several teeth-missing grin at Zanzibar*
"He didn't refill my goblet! A good servant would know what ta do!"
*Zanzibar rolled his eyes as he elegantly sipped his wine and smoked his cigar. He quietly placed it down on the ashtray as he removed his feet from their perch on the table. He got up and walked to the large view they had of their colony below. The Earth could be seen off in the left corner, just behind the steel mill they had. His eyes surveyed the many men below as he spoke*
"We cannot be irrational about this, Chuck. The leaders of that colony would only expect an attack so soon, and especially from none other than us."
*He walked back over the table and picked up his cigar, returning to the window as he continued*
"We haven't even acquired a loyal and worthy crew yet. Any men that we brought with us to the battle would be simply cannon fodder, nothing but useless pawns."
*He turned to face LeChuck*
"You know as well as I do these men are not ready. Aye, many of them would follow us into battle. But do you think they are willing to give their lives for us yet?"
*Zanzibar began pacing around the room, cigar in mouth, hands behind his back as he watched the ground he walked on*
"No....it is not the time yet. We should wait. Bide our time. Build our forces. And then, when we are strong, we shall hit them where it hurts!"
*Zanzibar had both hands on the table now, planted and facing LeChuck with a look of solid dedication. LeChuck rolled his eyes*
"As if I haven't heard that speech before. Remeber when we went up before Admiral Tawkins! Ya gave the same damn speech to the men at Tiny's Cove! The whole schpiel about waitin' for the right time, and 'strikin while the iron is hot'"
*He made quotation fingers in the air as he said those last words. Zanzibars eyes shrunk to slits. LeChuck tossed an apple at his head as he scoffed*
"Oh, get off yer high horse, Zanz. Yer as sour as that there apple. If ya ask me, these men---"
*Zanzibar pounded his fists on the table, once again causing LeChucks goblet to upset and spill wine all over his newest, freshest pants and white blouse.
"I'm not asking you!" Zanzibar yelled.
*LeChuck stared downward with a look of anger and annoyance*
"Oh, ya stupid scoundrel! Look what ya done now! I just got these, ya know! Blisterin' barnacles!"
*As LeChuck began wiping himself dry, Zanzibar spoke in a low tone, being more serious than ever*
"These men don't know of our nature, Sea-King Smuttynose LeChuck"
*LeChuck's head shot up at the mention of his full-name*
"Oh, come now! Was that really necessary? Me full name ain't got ta be spoken, 'specially not in fro' of these mechanical dimwits."
*As he spoke another robot produced a fresh pair of pants and shirt*. Here you are, sir
*LeChuck smiled at the robot*
"Oy, I didn't even arsk! Good job, chap! What's yer name?"
*The robot spoke from it's 'mouth'* My name is MRA-389427, sir.
*LeChuck looked at the robot with a quizzical and peculiar look on his face* "Right.....okay.....right. Thanks, MRA-8 trillion an' 2 an' whatnot."
*He turned back to Zanzibar with a grin on his face*
"I say we go find us some ripe lads, eh? Might as well get started on this crew of ours. That way you can stop bein' such a pain in me arse, an' I can get some nbew recruits to whip inta shape! To the pits!"
*LeChuck took off for the elevator, still wearing his soiled clothing. He stopped before he pushed the button* "Almost forgot!". he ran back to the table and grabbed two full barrels of ale under one arm and sauntered back to the elevator* "If all else fails, we'll shanghai 'em!"

Oh, I totally forgot to mention shit about the war. Ill edit or make more sense later today. Sorry, soooooo tired. forgot to set clock back, got up at 6:30 stead of 7:30. myeh

At 10/31/04 01:29 PM, Baderact wrote: Zanzibar and LeChuck then began their lesson's with the spirit to explore the depths of their power.

For several years Zanzibar and LeChuck remained in that cave, learning to master their powers and control them. They learned an incredible amount, since they never once stopped because they didnt eat, sleep, or grow tired once during the time they spent there. When they had learned all, the spirit wished them luck on whatever they chose to do, and to be grateful for their second chance at life.....kind of. They left the cave and climbed aboard Zanzibars old ship, and they set sail to find themselves a crew.
They spent decades roaming the sea, finding crewmen worthy of their leadership. It was a long and ardous process, filled with many young scallywags who thought they could take over from the "geezers" sailing the vessel. These men were never heard from again. After a lengthy period of time they found themselves a worthy crew, and were the scourge of the seas for many years.
One would think that with a wooden ship, they would never stand a chance in the new age, what with there being flying metal birds and giant metal missile-launching sharks in the sea. Luckily, the modern militaries tangible weapons and tactics were no match for the pairs magic and cunning. They robbed ships blind in an old wooden ship. It was glorious, and Zanzibar and LeChuck were loving living their old life again (with several invaluable improvements).
But after 80 years their crew had died off. The two had forgotten what a mortal lifespan was like. They became sad as they realized that they might never again find a crew they might sail with for the rest of their days. Trust was hard to come by when you only know your mates for several decades.
After spending many years at sea just pirating out of pure boredom, Zanzibar had an idea. This wooden ship was great and all, and certainly traditional. But now they might acquire some new methods of pirating. They had noticed the flying "cars" and other foolery (They never quite warmed up to modern technology). So Zanzibar and LeChuck set out to create the first flying (metal) pirate ship.
It took them a helluva long time, nigh on 50 years, because neither of them knew shit about electronics and equipment. Ya couldn't put canvas sails on a metal boat, nor could ya walk the plank, as doing so would result in plummeting several thousand feet to your doom. LeChuck was infuriated by this, as makin prisoners walk the plank was one of his favorite past times. Regardless of it's predicted uselessness, LeChuck raised Hell until he finally got a plank installed on their vessel. LeChuck gave a gratified, "Arrr..."
When their vessel had finally finished being built it was the largest flying galley ever in existence. They had employed the best that money could buy to design and build their ship, and the builders hadn't complained as LeChuck and Zanzibar had paid them in gold from around the world collected in the old days. The gold coins were worth more as antiques then the gold themselves. LeChuck occasionally killed an insolent worker or two, but insolence in LeChuck's book was considered even taking a lunch break. LeChuck didn't live in union days of pay-by-the-hour and whatnot. Zanzibar had to talk some sense into him, since after the second employee he had beheaded at the lunch table during break had caused the other workers to strike. Of the two, Zanzibar was the smooth-talker. LeChuck was the brash murdering pirate. But he had a soft side for ale and whores and his mates. Not much else.
Their sea-aircraft was piloted by Zanzibar and overlooked by LeChuck. They had employed robots mostly since they didn't die and were the most obedient workers at all. Plus, LeChuck could off them at will without scaring the others. He liked that very much. They flew the skies and preyed on transport ships and passenger jets, using their magic for secrecy and tactics.
Now, after many years, they had acquired a mass amount of wealth, 5x richer than Bill Gates, and they had built their own pirate space-station. At first none were allowed but pirates, as dictated by LeChuck. But this rule was quickly abolished, since there were maybe 30 pirates left that they even knew of on Earth. So it became a safe haven for criminals and theives; their brethren.
As we meet with our two kinda-dead heroes yet again, they sit together in their war room, plotting their next move. They are considering looting the upper-most, richest parts of the sky towers, where the elite of Earth-inhabitants abide. This would take careful planning, as the defenses were numerous.
Their space station was never found except if you had been their before. Kinda like Never never land, only masked in magic and not left from some star.

(Sorry if any of this is ridiculous and weird, I am so tired and spent an hour fixing the spelling mistakes alone. I think it's good though. )

Listen, all these people (That angry dude whos friend got knifed up when he was 5 or something) that are pissed about things in the past: Let. it. go.
Getting pissed at an entire country, not even counting Saddam, for something that 3 random dudes did to your friend are not related. Sure, those 3 guys hated America. But fuck, who DOESNT hate us? Our dickhead of a President has portrayed us as little-dicked, big-headed, pompous, pre-emptive striking jack-asses. And the sad part is? There is not much we can do about it.

Not MUCH, but there is some. First off, we can stop getting generalizing our anger. Don't be pissed at all of frikkin Iraq b/c 3 crazy dudes knifed your friend. Shit happens.
Second, Saddam was crazy yes. But the mother fucker was harmless! True, he may have become an actual potential threat in time (aka North Korea, who actually DO have nuclear weapons). But as of right now it was a god damned FACT, mother fucker, FACTFACTFACT that those reports that showed "WMD making stations" or whatever the fuck on ill-crazy satellite pictures were so god damned fake.

How come we had so much evidence in the beginning, and then in the end it was bullshit? Because Bush LIED, Cheney LIED, Rumsfeld LIED, and Condeleeza got fucked and took it up the ass and asked for more. What a bitch.

Fact: Bush and his administration care about these things and these things ONLY: Money, Oil, Power. They don't give a fuck about old people and medicine, they dont give a fuck about our schools. We're pouring billions into a country that will no doubt, in 5 years max, be AGAINST us, then we are in our own god damn country on schools and tons of broken shit for us.

I have 2 friends in Iraq, one recently shot 6 times in an ambush. he survived, let off 2 clips and radioed for help. He got the Purple Heart. Brave man, and I respect him. My other friend is an Army Reserve. he hates Iraq. Most of the soldiers do. Only ignorant racist pricks enjoy the mindless killing their superiors encourage them to do.

And anyone who hates on the Michael Moore film: swallow your pride and deal b/c he was completely RIGHT, his entire film was FACTFACTFACT. You may not like it, and it sure as hell was biased of COURSE. But it was all fact.

Open your eyes. If you want REAL news (as in untainted with the lies and opinions of the Republicans that own all the American news and media) check out BBC and other foreign news. You will learn what's REALLY going on then. If you watch any local or national news (except maybe NPR), your news is poisoned with Republican lies. Bush's fucking cousin owns Fox. Yea. Okay

It all depends on your beliefs. We can tolerate both, of course. Tolerance in all it's forms should be promoted. Idoliters and bigots are simply ignorant cretins, and shouldn't die but should be educated. If they refuse, THEN you can kill them

;D

But seriously, before you make rash decisions or comments about someone's beliefs or way of life, learn about it first. Peace

*LeChuck spun around at the sound of the spirit voice, the sword now directly through the side of his head and out the other end. He quickly grabbed it and drew it out, causing him to lose his balance for a moment. When he regained it, he put on his pirate face and took a fighting stance, sword extended*
"Avast! Who be ye, ya slimy scoundrel!"
*The spirit rolled his eyes as he turned away from Zanzibar to face him*
"I am the ancient spirit of pirates. I am the original pirate, the first, the archetype. All forms of pirating and it's captains and pirates came from me, whether born from wenches I bedded or children I stole. I am related to you too, LeChuck, from many generations ago. And to you, too, Zanzibar"
*He turned to look at Zanzibar briefly, then turning back to LeChuck spoke on*
"You two have been giving undead life, a form of immortality, for the sacrifice of a man who was once on Zanzibar's ship. Joey the Miner, a boy who was eager as ever to be a pirate, but would've sucked horribly. He valiantly and faithly gave his life so that his captain and sea-mate may live. You should be grateful."
*LeChuck lowered his cutlass, his mouth spilitting into a wide, half-toothless grin*
"So yer me granpappy from way back? Ah, many thanks to ye. I must've inherited your good looks, too."
*LeChuck winked at the spirit, or rather blinked, as that was winking as well for him. The spirit looked at LeChuck with hesitation and unsurety as he slowly leaned away*
"Right, right.....moving on"
*He turned back towards Zanzibar to continue their conversation that LeChuck had interrupted*

At 10/28/04 10:58 PM, Baderact wrote: "It's my ship you bastard... and stop kicking me"
Zanzibar sat up and rubbed his new eye. He looks at LeChuck, and is notices something...
"You know... You got a sword in your belly, ya bastard."
Zanzibar laid back down.

*LeChuck looked down at his sizeable belly, noticing that there was, in fact, a golden cutlass protruding from it. He chuckled as he looked worriedly at his stomach*
"Arr, it uh...haha....it appears I do. Um....perhaps I'll just be pullin' it...out. Here goes"
*LeChuck slowly reaches for the blade, his fingers reluctantly grasping the hilt. He gulped, and squeezed one eye shut as he yanked. Miraculously, the blade came out without a drop of blood or pain. Instantly the wound sealed up. LeChuck looked astonished from the blade to his gut*
"Shiver me timbers! What manner of sorcery be this?!"
*He waved the blade in the air, practicing some manuevers and tactics. Then, rather unexpectedly, he plunged the blade into his leg. He withdraw it but a moment later, and once again the wound healed up instantly and no blood was drawn. LeChuck's face split into a tremendous grin*
"'Tis a miracle!"
*He looked at Zanzibar with wide eyes*
"Matey! We be invincible! Yarhar!"
*LeChuck danced around the cave, gut jiggling, sword waving, humming some indescribable tune. He suddenly stopped and spun around to face Zanzibar once again, his face a mix of confusion and urgency*
"Wait? Am I dreamin'? Tell me mate, am I bloody dreamin'?!"
*He rushed up to Zanzibar, knelt beside his prone figure, rolled up his shirt sleeve and extended his right arm*
"Pinch me, Zanzibar! Pinch me now!"

Name: Sea-King Smuttynose LeChuck
Age: -Undead-
Powers: None at first, but inherited some of Arithon's powers when Joey resurrected him and Zanzibar with the necklace.

The great Sea-King Smuttynose LeChuck was one of the finest pirate captains that ever sailed the sea. He is pot-bellied from his many years of drinking ale. His mind is sour and corrupt with years of fucking wenches and stealing from all types of folks. He'd steal candy from a baby if it could be called "booty". He ran a tight ship, and killed his crew at random, for reasons ranging from attempted mutiny to untied shoelaces (depending on how loaded he was). He is a fine swordsman and a great shot with a cannon. He lost his left eye in battle, and where's a black eyepatch over the scar. From merging with the necklace he has recently developed a black circle on his chest somewhere above his potbelly and below his neck, somewhere inbetween his man-breasts. He is a pirate of pirates, and shall always be!
His main rival in pirating, Captain Zanzibar, found him afloat in the sea after a ferocious battle with Her Majesty's Royal Navy, and he was kind enough to fish him out and put him aboard his ship. They sailed on as mates for a time...
How they came to be in this cave in unknown. How they came to die together is even more mysterious. But now, 'tis true that they cannot be killed unless both are killed together, at the same time. They are linked by their undead souls through that necklace which now has become a part of each of them. Joey is remembered well....but it's LeChuck's and Zanzibar's time now!

Arrrr!

At 10/28/04 03:29 PM, Baderact wrote: The two men on the ground opened their eyes, and gasped for air.

*The Sea-King LeChuck awakes abruptly, his arms flailing, his legs kicking, and his potbelly jiggling*
"Arr! Yer mother's a whore, yer fathers a beggar, a pox on ye and your pig of a wife!"
*LeChuck gazes around the room with his one eye ablaze with fury and anger, ready to fight whatever, anything. He holds his hand in the air as if his cutlass was in it. It takes him a moment or two to realize that he is not holding a weapon.*
"Arr.......'tis a tragedy the day a pirate be separated from his weapons."
*He scratches his head as he surveys his surroundings*
"Now where be I?"
*He sees no booty, no wenches, no pirate crew.....he is extremely confused. He feels the ground beneath him, and it is rock, not wood. So he is not on a ship. LeChuck's face turns to one of pure horror and agony*
"Where be me ship?! WHERE BE ME BLOODY SHIP?!!"
*LeChuck practically collapses into a sobbing heap of fat-man, but his pirate personality prevent him from showing much emotion. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he begins to remember what had brought him here. His eyes slowly widen in recognition*
"Zanzibar! Where are ye? Blistering barnacles, I'll have yer hide fer draggin' me here. I think I was dead! Wait......"
*He scratches his head*
"I think I was dead? What in hell is I talkin' bout? Arr! I'm mighty angry!"
*He looks around for someone to punch, something to break; nothing. He curses up a storm, kicking his feet and throwing his fists about. He finally feels his feet hit something softer than rock. He jumps back in surprise*
"Avast! Who be ye?!"
*To LeChuck's wondering eyes he finds Captain Zanzibar lying directly opposite him. He gasps as he takes a step or two back*
"Blow me over! If it t'isnt me ol' sea mate, Zanzibar! Oy, ya Limey sonuva sea biscuit! Gert up! Up, damn you!"
*LeChuck resumes kicking Zanzibar in the ribs, but with more fervor and purpose this time*
"Get up, damn you! How in the hell did we get here? Where's me bloody ship, mate!!?"

At 10/28/04 11:32 AM, -TheDoctor- wrote: As for the story, going on nicely, good intro to some characters, might want to speed up the pace a little though (unless you are planning to make a book of this :P). I will probably post the first chapter of mine later today.

Nah, I work slow man. Besides, it's always better to write a lot and then edit it down to the best parts then perhaps not write enough and add things in at places. Or so I feel, that is how I like to write. Call me a traditionalist.

And about showing them this page. They would most definitely try to say that we doctored the page, made it up recently. But then I guess we could get Tom and Wade to testify that this was here on October 28, 2004 by Lysaer and so on by everyone else. Score. Let's encourage people to steal our shit and then sue them. Anybody else wanna join in on the scam.

haha, JUST KIDDING. kiddng....I work in a law firm, don't take that seriously, could be trouble like conspiracy. Okay, Im rambling like nuts, abbastanza!

Read Dracula and Oscar Wilde! Yea!

Shok?

I have a Canadian friend in Montreal. He's real cool. I love Canada's health insurance system.

Rock on Canada

snookers

Ok, admittedly there were several grammatical errors and mostly spelling mistakes. I had to type this rather quickly, so pardon them please. You should get the gist of it, but if something in particular confuses you don't hesitate to ask me what I meant.

On a completely different note, I have a question concerning copyrighting. Is any of our material on here protected? Or could we put tons of effort into this, and then someone might come along and totally steal our ideas and make money off of it? Is there anyway we can prevent this from possibly happening? I wouldn't want anyone else to get credit for my hardwork, I'd fucking kill them.

At 10/28/04 09:56 AM, Lysaer wrote:

and his soldiers wide and thick.

I meant "shoulders". Sorry, Freudian slip

And so now I have a little time to write more as I drink my tea. Let's begin.

And by the way, practically everything I write is completely unedited, so if so feel so inclined, go ahead and either edit it or just give me suggestions on what I might do aka criticize. But constructive criticism. I don't do well with people insulting my work. Gracias

President Glukovich sat at his desk, smoking a cigar as he stared at a map on the wall of Northal. His eyes slowly snaked across the states and locations as the smoke floated up over his bald head. His bushy eyebrows were completely relaxed, his eyelids slacked and half-open. His mustache was very Hitler-esque, except he kept it a little wider and a little thinner, a Fu-man-chu of sorts. His teeth were yellow from many years of smoking cigarettes and cigars when he was a soldier, fighting for Mother Russia. His hands were rough and calloused, and his soldiers wide and thick. He had seen many years of battle, and he had the scars to prove it. He had a scar from his left ear that curved from his left ear, over to his eye, which had blinded him in it, and then slowly curving down to the left side of his chin. He had gotten it when being tortured, but he didn't like to think of those days. No one but he and his most elite staff members knew of that. It was forbidden to speak of it. Enough.

He turned around slowly in his chair to survey his office which was littered with his accomplishments. Weapons, trophies, animals heads, flags, maps, etc. His one-eyed gaze slowly floated up to the sign above his door. "Ïðèøåë Óâèäåë Ïîáåäèë" which read Veni Vidi Vici (I came I saw I conquered). It was his motto. He lived by no other creed and no other law. He went, he saw, and he conquered.

There was a knock on the door. "Da!" The President shouted. The door opened to reveal General Spurik, Glukovich's second in command and closest comrade through years of campaigning. "Ah, Spurik. Come in, come in." Glukovich waved Spurik in with his massive bear hand, his other hand bringing out a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. As Spurik entered Glukovich set the bottle and glasses down on the desk. "General, I--". Glukovich held up his hand, indicating he desired silence. "No, not yet, my friend. First we drink wodka."
Glukovich poured them each a shot, Spurik taking the opprtunity to continue speaking, "--General I have come to report that all the men are in excellent spirits, and the invasion to Northal should be smooth and successful." Glukovich's face cracked into a grin, "Excellent, comrade, excellent....but one question. Have you been in contact with out spies in the black and asian armies?"
Spurik's eyes darted back and forth, seemingly searching the room for an excuse. "Well sir, I....I was so busy with--"
Glukovich's hand came crashing down into the desk, upsetting th shot glasses and spilling the liquid all over the desk, extinguishing his cigar in the ashtray. Luckily, the bottle had been sealed and put away. Glukovich reached behind his chair for a towel to wipe off the vodka that had spilled on his sleeve as he spoke his face and voice as calm as if he had never just been in a flash of rage.
"Comrade....I seem to remember asking you a straight-forward question which could only be answered one of two ways. One way would make me happy. That word is 'yes'. One word would make me angry and probably have you flogged for disobeying my orders. That word is 'no'. Now..." Glukovich leaned over his desk, bringing his face closer to Spurik so he could smell the cigar on his breath. "Vich of these two answers are you going to tell me?"
Spurik was visibly nervous, sweat formed on his brow as he grasped at his fingers in a fit of nervousness. "Th-the...answer, General...i-...is yes, I have. But the news is not good"
Glukovich slowly moved back into his chair, his hands crossing over his chest as he began contemplated possible forms of punishment for his officer and friend. Military obligation always came before anything, even friendship. "Well, you have given me the good answer, yes. However, you tell me there is bad news as well. I dislike bullshit. What is it?"
Spurik straightened his jacket as he wiped the sweat off his brow, "General, our spies tell us that the blacks and asians somehow know of our plans to invade Northal. The battle between them that was being fought in India is now over, they say, with a draw. And both forces are now preparing an invasion, as well." Spurik waited for another violent fit as Glukovich sat motionless, his eyes closed, hands still crossed over his chest, leaning back in his chair. He let loose a low growl in his throat, causing Spurik to gulp in anticipation at what the General might do in reaction to this news.
To his surprise, the General sudddenly moved forward, both hands slapping down on the desk as he leaned over it towards Spurik, a huge grin on his face. "Wonderful! This is good news, for now we shall use our enemies as our weapons. Spurik, comrade, you bring extra good news. Come, we shall drink vodka in celebration of a successful campaign."
Glukovich had taken the bottle out of the drawer again and was pouring the two shots as Spurik spoke up in confusion, "But....but sir. We haven't even begun yet! How can you say it will be successful?" Glukovich laughed as he picked up his cigar and re-lit it. He took a long drag as he exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the air, and then looked into Spurik's eyes. He passed Spurik his shot as he held his up to his lips and spoke before he took it.
"Oh, but it will be, Comrade. Trust me, it will be"

At 10/28/04 06:43 AM, Frozen_Fox wrote: Only requirement is that you enjoy wtring and are willing to help people improve their stories poems and scripts if they ask for a review on something they have written. If you can do that its yours if you want it.

Sweeeeet. Count me in then. So what's my official title? I'm anxious to put it in my sig, haha. Seriously though, I am

Say Durran. First off, interesting coincindence naming your character "Durran" and then making him German. Whatever

Did you even read any of the posts before this? You make your character look like a stick figure.

I'm not saying don't join, because by all means, join. But from what I can tell you just saw this thread as "Immortals RP", went o this page and started off.

And I cant play thinking your character looks like a cartoon. I'm sorry, I think that is what mainly irks me. This isn't a cartoon. I hope that is an extremely vague picture.

I like the idea of your opponent cheating death and bring you back to life to defeat him, interesting concept. And your special power is.....creative. We'll see if you're serious later on. GOod luck though. I'm not meaning to discourage you. Just trying to make sure you're not a joker and gonna ruin the fun.

At 10/27/04 09:56 PM, stafffighter wrote: (So we're reaction to this joey guy now? )

Jean, Baderact did not intend to make you interact that much with him. He just ties in very well with the plot, trust me. He is, in real life, a good friend of mine, and I convinced him to start posting and being an active member.

At first I thought he was just being the usual crazy jokester that he is and that no one would pay attention to him. But then, to my surprise, he became more serioues, began posting more frequently and in line with the story. So now we have colloborated a bit behind the scenes. I have informed him of Arithon's past and the significane of the necklace, which I haven't even begun to describe. Let's just say it involves his past and who his father really was......combined with his mother's gypsy past with magic. They combine, and he becomes.....well....you'll see.

So anyhow, without (much) further adooo.....the newest character will be arriving soon.

And kids, plus! A good friend of yours might return! Tune in next time to find out what exciting shit happens! Booya!

At 10/27/04 08:30 PM, Frozen_Fox wrote: Oh and as fara s I know the position on the council is still open.

Nice, because if it is okay I might like to take it, if possible. If there are any requirements I would like the know them, of course. But just know that I am interested.

*Arithon's lifeless body lays untouched in the snow. His soul gone, his life absent, he was no more than an empty vessel. However, his necklace had now parted from his skin. It lay, visible to all, around his neck but out in the snow. It called to a new owner, since the last of it's race had perished. It sat and waited for another to assume it's power....*

At 10/27/04 02:50 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: (This feels strangely familiar...)
*As Arithon joins with Gaia's brain he is overwhelmed by a stream of knowledge and memories, angels, planets, life created, the beginning of the universe, a planet of holy radiance, destroyed by two angels battling, the authority, things that no human mind could comprehend*
You see my friend, I am much more than you could imagine. I am an angel, and only another of my kind would be able to succeed in burying my mind under theirs.
*Gaia kneels down in the snow and rests, crushing down Arithon's consciousness into a far corner of his memory, forcing it into a tiny gap, and building a barrier between it and the rest of his knowledge. He then wipes out everything in that space*

Awww CRAP! Oh well, time for a new character. Somebody had to die. Darn. I need time to think on it. But for now homework. I might be off for a few days doing work and whatnot, but Ill keep reading. Post a new character maybe later. Plus this Joey character is interesting....we should do another comedy RP, yes.

Kill Gaia! Okay, Im done

At 10/27/04 01:37 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: *Gaia forces the point of his sword down into the wound in Arithon's head, then thrusts the blade into his brain. He grips the blade of the sword inside his own head near the handle and draws it out, forcing the length of the sword to Arithon's throat*

*Arithon is in immense pain, but he is still able to draw his head backwards and draw the blade out of his skull. He eventually gets it entirely out and rolls a safe distance away. As he stands up his head is healed completely. Arithon rubs the top of his skull, and then suddenly falls to his knees as he spits up blood*
"Fuck...."
*He brought his head up to look at Gaia, who was already standing, unmoving, watching Arithon. Ari bared his teeth as he spoke*
"I can't kill you with weapons or powers. You can control almost everything I throw at you. But I have one last weapon to use, one you can't control no matter what: my soul!"
*Arithon stand to his feet and his sword is sucked away into his hand. He brings his hands forward to prayer position.*
*The one most useful thing the monks had taught him was how to separate his soul from his body. They had merely told him how...he had never actually done it. But this was a now or never moment, and now was the only option*
*He began incanting quickly, his lips a blur. His body glowing, his hair raised, his eyes intently focused on Gaia. His hands were completely still as he continued*
*Moments later his head was thrown back, his mouth open. Shadow began to spill form Arithon's body from his mouth, eyes, nose, ears....his life was pouring out of him. When it had all finally gotten out Arithon's body crumpled to the ground. His spirit floated above the body for a moment, then suddenly plunged forward into Gaia's chest. Gaia heard a voice in his head*
I'm gonna make you wish you never came here
*Arithon's soul had, by now, seeped it's way all the way up to Gaia's brain. It enveloped the entire thing, Gaia's brain black. Arithon, in his last effort of life, melted himself, severely damaging Gaia's brain and burning him from the inside.*
*Whatever the outcome, Arithon had known he would die. He had fought him now twice, and Gaia had seemed to have it out for him anyways. This was merely his last effort to help his friends. As his soul melted over Gaia's brain Arithon had just enough energy left to project one last message to his friends, which Gaia inevitably heard as well*
You can do it.....kill this fuck.......I'll see you guys some other time. Rock on....

At 10/27/04 01:16 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: *Gaia pivots his hand so that his sword goes around the back of his neck and parries the other blade, then scythes down vertically at Arithon's skull*

*Arithon sees the blade coming towards him as he sees the ground getting closer and closer. Impact would be any second now....In preparation Arithon decides to make a sacrifice for a sacrifice. This wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt like a bitch.*
*Arithon grins as he brings his sword up to point directly at Gaia's head. A split second later he takes the blade in the head. It cuts his skull and penetrates about an inch, but suddenly he's forced it to stop with his mind. It hurt like hell. He bit his lip until it started bleeding. But an eye for an eye*
*They hit the ground moments later, and as they hit the ground forced Arithon's hand, with sword in it, thrusting forward as Arithon's blade penetrated Gaia's skull. There was silence for a minute...*

*Arithon ducks just in time for Gaia's sword to pass over his head, just cutting off some of his hairs.
Mother fucker!
*Arithon brings his hand up to the back of Gaia's sword, following it's momentum, bringing it around towards his own neck, as he brings his blade screaming around from the other side, performing a scissor motion aimed at Gaia's neck*

*Arithon cringes as he witnesses the result of his actions*
"Sorry....Jean......ouch. Make amends!"
*Arithon leaps towards Gaia, feet first, planting his feet to Gaia's as he is in mid-swing with Taelyn's neck. Gaia is sent flying again, but this time not towards anyone. Arithon lands next to Taelyn and gets up quickly, sword at the ready.*
"Better turn around buddy, the shits hit the fan"

At 10/27/04 12:16 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: He dives past Abner, punching him away with incredible force, and lands at Arithon's feet, kicking them out from the immortal and moving around into a kneeling position, his sword out and pressed into the ground, then continues the spin so that his sword slices across the ground at Arithon's neck*

Fuck me
*Arithon brings his shadow blade up to his face just in time to parry the downward slice. He looks into Gaia's eyes*
"Play nice now"
*Keeping his left hand on his sword, Arithon extends his right hand and sends Gaia flying through the air, directly towards Jean and Taelyn*
"Hey Jean, catch!"