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Have them post something on this thread if they are interested. Then we can go through the formalities. Thanks very much, I appreciate the help.

Hey worm ,

I LOVED the first one . Not as funny as I would have hoped , but I couldnt stop reading , and as you said it was a very rough draft , so I'm sure if your , or somebody else animates it it will be good .

Now the second big long thing you typed , I hated it . Then again I'm not the best person to reveiw that kinda stuff . I couldnt read the whole thing it was so boring . It reminded me on anime , and anime just aint funny .

Haha. Like I said, the episode script I posted isn't really the funniest one, it was just the most complete at the time. And the second one was a basics post for a DRAMA series. So....its not supposed to be funny, hehe. If you know any animators who would maybe wanna do "Worm", get their asses onto this thread :). As far as the style goes for "Worm", not realistic at all, pretty cartoonish, you know? And it would be great if the person's good at drawin' celebrities and such, as cartoon versions of some of them (including Adiwale Akkinouye-Agbajye, Kiefer Sutherland, and...um....Alexander the Great) hold prominence in some episodes. And bluenessism, get your animator friends onto this thread, I'm getting anxious :P

Well, while I'm waiting for some possible animator feedback for my other two major projects, I thought I would make a basics post for my last big idea. It's a series of very short little cartoons (maybe I'll do just one big collab with different sketches) in series currently entitled "Found", and all the sketches are parodies of major or minor scenes and characters from the TV show "Lost".

At 5/28/06 07:32 PM, Dr_Worm wrote: If you know any animators who would maybe wanna do "Worm", get their asses onto this thread :).

If I find any animators Im gonna pitch the triangle inequality to them first , so get in line moe fo . ha ha , By the way is your username based on the song "dr. worm " by they might be gaints

At 5/28/06 10:44 PM, murfynation wrote:

By the way is your username based on the song "dr. worm " by they might be gaints

Ooooooh, clever one we got here. Hmmm......I'm glad that "Ghost Town" seems to be movin' along, but I'd also really like to get some real backing on "Worm". Any animators read the script on page 166 and like the sounds of it? Hmmm......I think I'm going to now post some (or all.....maybe....) of the script for another "Worm" episode: "The Spy Who Loved Men" (Note: This one's pretty racy hehe)

(Opening scene: Everyone is sitting on the couch watching a movie at Bob's house. We can't see what's on the TV, but the lights are out and we see white-ish light from the TV. We hear a guy with a Southern accent saying "I wish I knew how to quit you!", showing that they are watching Brokeback Mountain. All of a sudden, the light turns pinkish-purple and cheesy porno music starts playing in the background.)
Bob (cringing): Oh god! Ugh, why did you rent this?
Joe: Oh, shut up you little Republican wuss!
Worm: Seriously, if we knew you were gonna be such a dainty little fruitcup about it then we would've rented some action movie or some other girly crap like that.
Bob: But-
Worm: Hey Jackrabbit, pass over the popcorn.
Jackrabbit (nervous and sweating): Um...no...I'm still using it!
Worm (grabbing the popcorn tub and struggling with Jackrabbit for it): Come.....on.....give...the damn....thing....to....m-AAAAAH! (Popcorn flies into the air and spills all over the ground) You better have a damn hookshot in your pocket!
Jackrabbit (looking at the ground): Uh.....no.......
Bob: Uh......(eyes widen, then he darts out of his seat and out of the room)
Moleman: Come on now, let's get out of here and.....um....sort this out.
(They all leave the room. Shortly after they leave, Bob runs back into the room wearing a Biohazard suit.)
Bob: What'd I miss?
(Everybody is now outside walking down the street.)
Joe: Don't feel like this is gonna bring you down, Jackrabbit. Some of the most important people of all time were gay. Like....uh......Alexander the Great!
(Family Guy-esque flashback scene, at a Greek-looking building where a general runs up to Alexander.)
General: My lord! The Persians have attacked again! What are we to do?
Alexander: Ah, those Persians never know when to stop. Every day, whenever I dispatch a guard to some city I've erected, they knock it down, destroying our ports, scattering my good seamen all over the place. It's just not right! But I know how to turn this around so they won't know what hit them! We'll send a phalanx around to penetrate the enemy ranks from behind. Those rear troops must be penalized again and again until they are so sore from battle that a new hole tears open in their ranks. Such is my will now go see to it that it is done!
(General stares, annoyed, at Alexander. Alexander gives him a blank, emotionless stare back. There is a long pause.)
Alexander:..............What?
(Flashback ends and we go back to everyone walking.)
Joe: Okay, so maybe Alexander the Great isn't the best example......
Jackrabbit: Eh, I don't really think I would want to be like that anyway.
Worm (turning around so now he's walking backwards): Why don't you be like the gay people on TV? They seem happy and they get all the best lines!
Jackrabbit: I guess that doesn't seem too bad...
Moleman: Well, that settles it then. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, it's time for a....
Joe: It's been a while...
Worm: All the more reason for it......
Everyone: A TRAINING MONTAGE!!!!!
(It goes to a montage with many little scenes. First, Shnookums and Moleman are seeing Jackrabbit trying on different clothes, all of which they are unimpressed. They take him out behind the store where they spray-paint his normal clothes pink. As Jackrabbit is coughing and spitting up, Shnookums and Moleman give a thumbs up. Next, Worm has a woman show Jackrabbit an example of walking effeminately down a street. Nearby construction workers whistle. Jackrabbit attempts it and rusty nails rain down on him. Worm half-heartedly gives him the thumbs up sign. Then, Jackrabbit is seen taking notes at a desk from a video on a projector while Worm and Bob, still in a Biohazard suit, are pointing to parts of the video, exactly what movie is unclear but we can clearly see Richard Gere on the screen. Finally, Jackrabbit is talking, we cannot hear what he is saying, and Bob and Shnookums are watching him. Shnookums accidentally lights Jackrabbit's foot on fire, then gives the thumbs up. The montage ends and we see Worm, Bob, Joe, Moleman, and Shnookums standing out on the street outside a house early in the morning. Bob's suit is gone.)
Worm: Well, I'm proud of our little Jackrabbit.
Joe: Yeah. Our very own stereotypical gay friend......but...where did he go last night? He sort of disappeared when somebody (staring at Bob) was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.
Bob: What? The suit fogged up.
(The door to the house opens and Jackrabbit storms out, walking out into the street and wearing the same clothes he was wearing before the montage.)
Moleman: Jackrabbit? What are you doing there? What happened to your.....uh.....
Jackrabbit: Oh trust me, I've fully realized that I am NOT gay.
(Alexander the Great walks up to the door from the inside.)
Alexander: Where are you going?
Jackrabbit: Alexander (makes quotation marks with his hands) "the Great" my ass! (mutters to himself)...literally.....
(The door slams shut and Worm is giving Jackrabbit a confused look)
Worm: Um....Jackrabbit, I don't think it really works like that. You can't just say you're gay one day and then decide you're not the next.
Jackrabbit: Oh no no no. I know it for sure. I just ate bad shellfish.
Joe:.......Shellfish?..........
Jackrabbit:.......yeah.....bad shellfish.
Bob: Oooooooookay.
(Everyone just shrugs and starts walking off towards the horizon.)

And fin! Yeah, that one's a little bit strange. But any sort of feedback would be appreciated.

My story took three posts to post it so I'll just link to the topic I posted it in. How is it?

http://www.newground../topic.php?id=497113

It is my attempt at a matrix/newgrounds parody.

I've done as you've asked bluenessism. Please check your e-mail (it has specifics of what I want from your animator friends) and then get your animator friends to contact me. Thanks :)

Once upon a time on the day of june 6, 2006 I decided to get with my friends to go see the omen. The people who came with me were Sam Eder. A short red headed child who loves to skateboard. He has a cheerful personality and always knows something fun to do. Charles Traubard. A fat boy who fatness is only compared to his strength. He loves to talk dirty and knows how to chear people up. Gunnar Fish. A shy long haired child who doesn't like to talk to people outside of his group. Although he never lets out his personality publicly, he is very funny and gets a good laugh every now and then. Nam Lam. An Asian boy who is un naturally tall for a 12 year old and has a very deep voice. He is also very skinny and always seems to be nervous. And then there was me. Michael Puleo. A medium sized brown haired boy who is a little on the chubby side, is always funny and loves to share his chearful personality. Violence is his favorite thing in the world other than boobies. These are the charecters who have gotten themselves way over there head by messing with the devils power.

Mw and my friends were walking down the busy streets of Tampa when Nam sais to me, "do you think its a good idea to be messing with the mark of the devil. The apocolyps could be closer to us than we think and we are not helping it by encouraging that there is an omen out there." I let the words of my Asian friend sink in. I reply, "Don't worry. There is no real mark of the devil. Its just a movie. And since when did you start believining in the devil. I thought you were budhist." He shoots me a deathly glare. He stretches his flexed arm and puts me in a headlock. He screams at me, " Uou tryin' to be racist whitey!" Although my windpipe was pushed in making it hard to talk I uttered out the words, " No. I seriously thought you were budhist." He takes his arm off my red neck and softly sais, "oh. Sorry." I say, " Thats okay. I promis I won't crack any more budhist jokes on you." Sam yells out, "Threres the theater! I'll go get the tickets" He then rushes ahead on his skateboard and does a smooth kickflip and lands it. He keeps on roling until he's over a hill and out of sight. Charles waits a little bit then sais, " You know the first sign of the apocolypse other than the omen is bad luck. No one replys.

We kept walking until we finally got to the hill. Gunnar sais, "I see the theater!" And points in the direction of the theater. At almost the exact moment he stopped talking an ambulence came rushing at top speeds next to us. Then a police car. Then a fire truck. All in a matter of seconds. I say in a confused voice, "what the heck was that?" Charles looked at me then towards the top of the hill and sais, "do I dare look over the hill." We slowly walk a few steps up and see a mass of bloody carnage. Sam's body was layed out in front of us a 4 pieces of already rotting flesh. Two thick splinters from his board were lodged into the membrane of his eyes, and there was a board shoved in his crotch. I go up to the police oficer and ask, "what the hell happened!" He looked at me and said, "He was doing a kickflip when his backfoot hit the back of the board instead of the side forcing the board into a diagnol tailspin and when the board hit the ground it was shoved into his crotch forcing so much pressure on his balls that they both popped in a goey white mess. Also the back of the board snapped throwing thousands of little splinters and six big splinters into the air. The little splinters flew elswhere but the big splinters cut off all his libms and were shoved into his ever so tender eyes. So move along boys." All I could say was, " whoa. Dude."

After seing the bloody mess of Sam charles said, "ummmm, i don't feel like seing the movie anymore. I think I'm 666d out." Gunnar replied, "me to" I said, " okay we'll go back to my house. All we have to do is survive our trip back home. How hard could it be." We started our walk back home enjoying the scenery but still keeping our guards up. Gunnar exclaimed, "Hey look its the shortcup!" I looked at him and roled my eyes and said, "Thats through a dark alley. People get mugged all the time in dark alleys. Don't you ever watch the movies." Gunnar replied, "Nut don't you want to get home faster so that 666 doesn't catch up to us like it did with sam." I made a deep sigh and said, "Fine but walk fast."

We were walking so fast through the alley that we were practically running. We started to walk by a dumpster when a clunk noise was heard followed by a per. Charles looked at the dumpster and said, " I think there's a cat behind the dumpster" Charles cautiously walks behind the dumpster. Behind the dumpster he screams, "It is a cat." Then he walks away from the dumpster holding a siames cat. I say, "Awwww ain't it cute." I then petted it and it perred and licked me. Charles said, "It's starting to growl. I think I should let it down." He lays it down on the ground and immediatly it begins to glow. No one could se anything because the light was shining in our eyes to bright. Out walks a dark figure. The bright light brgins to fade and we see it's saitan himself! Saitan sais to us, "Do you know what day it is today." We all nod. He sais, "Good. Then you know it's the day I kill you all. I shall start with you kids." I yeel out, "No please! Shed mercy upon our putred souls!" Saitan puts his fingers on his chin and sais, "Ok. But only because you asked. I shall just torture you. LET THE TORTURING BEGIN!"

He puts his hands on Gunnars thubm. He quikly pulls his fingers back and cracks it with amazing force. He looks at Charles then puts a spike on his black boot. He begins kicking away at his tender nut. He keeps kicking until thhe whole thing falls off. THen he looks at me. He waits a while to think. I say, "What are you gonna do to me?" He doesn't answer. He then gets an evil look on his face. He takes a knife from his pocket and begins fiercly stabbing my eyeball. I felt the knife pass through my cornea then my iris next going through the pupil and then passing into the slush that is the vitrious humor then the retina was its next target the out the other cornea and damaged my optic nerve leeving me completly blind. I made a peircing scream that shattered windows all around that fell into all my friends flash. Saitan laughs and sais, "I hope you have learned your lesson on messing with the supernatural. By 12:00 midnight the world shall end forever." See you in hell I scream.

Hi im new here and i was wondering if i could join as a writer? I have a story about a cop on the edge with a surprising twist but its on word and also a few monster stories which someone could animate.

So can i join please?

At 6/10/06 07:08 PM, XIIIthSoundsSoldier wrote: So can i join please?

Of course you can, welcome to our little gathering

A revision of an older piece... looking for comments. I am trying to get on here as much as I can this summer... starting now. Enjoy.

And then it showers...

The stench – that cold, dry stench was all I could focus my thoughts on in that small, bright-white office. The stink lingered in my mouth like the ache of a bad cough, and it spread faster every second. My tongue, a sum of paste, begged for liquid, and with that feeling on my mind I converged with my surroundings. The buzzing in the room: moments ago, the product of numbing senses was, in fact, the man in front of me. He had begun speaking long before I began listening. He was preaching to the wrong assembly.

The sun, funnelling through the window like thin layers of ice, masking the surfaces of furniture with individual hues of intensity, grasped the few particles of dust that feathered in the air. I stared aimlessly into this common phenomenon unable to look the man directly in the eyes. He could have been Christ, or he could have been my accountant: he was void to me. He was the hollow hair of a polar bear.

The man, whose white coat was perfectly camouflaged for the room, and gave the impression of a suspended head, lifted from his seat, sounding like subway closing doors, to merely travel around his desk towards my solar plexus. A migration to comfort a loved one in foreign lands expresses a positive family support system, but a migration to comfort a perfect stranger is a lost cause. I’d rather words of false hope.

He sat on the edge of his working space, and – without words, but with emotion – told me the truth I dreadfully feared. I stared blankly, frozen by the sunder that is Zeus’ bolt. Blood pooled in my ears as he finally spoke the deafening words. There was a certain odd professionalism about his demeanour, and he gravelled the comfort of my seat more than he did cushion. O God, you seem childish in your splendour, but I still love you dearly. O God, I could use a Lay-Z-Boy. It was clockwork, routine; an awkward arrogance that looked down on my position with eerie pity. His head turned towards the ground, still suspended, but as if he had been hung in my place. A slight smile appeared across his face as humour acquired the best of my uncomfortable and uncanny placing in the room, ‘quoth the raven.’

Life can be funny - ironic. Though the irony is laced with pain and undoubtedly, whether the man’s words accurate or not, followed by the teachings of a karma invested religion – be it outright, or conformed with age. Like wine, let it age. And there lies my elegy of rain: when it drops once, it drops twice. When it rains on the night of your birth, it rains on the day of your death. And as each one of us seems to take granted not the objects or subjects of our being, but the being itself, I wonder what supremacy explores the entity we each embody. However, even when life can be as unforgiving as summer rain, with a choke it can be the opposite, and every being would rather be than not at all. That is, until such a day.

The man’s infinite gaze at the ground before him marked the moment, upon rebelling from my seat and walking towards the door. It was then I realized that a routine emotion could still be as meaningful as the first time. I nodded, my lips pressed tightly, my eyelids evaporating with my step, and he nodded back. I left that odour behind me, trailing like a benevolent wind under a summer dress, and it was nevermore.

The day, lightly covered in fingernail grout like dust falls on the living room glass table, bared an infantile resemblance to my youth schoolyard, and the wry fists of pre-teenage bullies. The streets smelt like my sweltering garage, with a tinge of antibacterial soap rising from my palms. Decomposing as time steers my fate, I watch the sidewalk crack beneath my feet.

With my cell phone in one hand, and a hundred faces before me, I simply stare. I always thought the world would seem more brilliant: colours more vivid; nature more inspiring; people all equal. I always thought I would enjoy my decomposing. I always thought I’d become more brilliant. Instead, I watch ants climb sewer drains as the concrete magnifies the sun on my right back pocket. It burns.

I have never been more fragile. I have never been freer. I have never been at the touch of eternal dusk - while it showers on my glass embrace. Here I lie unconscious - never being unafraid.

Until now.

________

and a couple poems too:

for one moment

for one moment,
your eyes were the butterflies
of Eskimos in an ankle deep playground.

for one moment,
your legs were tide-clean stones
basking in the dripping sun, craving inundation.

you were once the arid wheat field
in the care of a withered cypress tree,

(there are many eyes)

and I was the incessant vacant wind
that traveled from opulent lissom flora.

for one moment,
my chest was cardboard
compacted and never collected by the callow.

for one moment,
when goodbyes tongue,
we were each other’s top shelf closet.

( -- try to understand,
the ground never answers)

then we feign,
like infatuated children,
that we will obtain another moment
tomorrow.

...because...

life without meaning
(that is, shattered rocks
in heaps of sevens
counted by working-child hands)
does not exist
FADE DOWN!
(sinking blank face with closed eyes
whistling the panic tune
and dyeing the waters
with iris)
heads up.
(HEADS UP! but less enthused)
knowing an answer
if only one nothing:
there dumps drinking bottles filled with apocalypse
(rich, pale youth
coloured, in real culture
idolizing crooked economic canes
of jail-bird hookers)
the real lies within the meaning
(voluptuous ethnic women
rocking on the creaking porch
of sugar-cane labour,
working the-soon-sore lips:

----------------(copper death-bed iced with envelopes
filled with burial money for the expecting) ----------------

their genitalia now red, and sore)
SMACK. Smack. SMACK.
in all this,
nothing exists.

I hate how NG ruins the layout of a poem... my dA account has them the way they should be.

As you're probably aware, I'm addicted to the MMORPG, World of Warcraft. I'm currently on a Roleplaying server, so I decided to come up with a little background for my character, though I'll ahve to flesh it out a little before calling it my final draft. Comments are welcome, as always.

Why do we fight?
My name is Gherin Rogamar. I am the son of a woodsman and learned the trade from my father over my teenage years in the Elwynn forest, to the south of Stormwind city, now the capital, since the demise of Lordaeron. Over the years of my childhood, I have been evacuated four separate times from Elwynn to the lands of the dwarves, some of whom I became firm friends with over those years away from my home.

The lands of the south were ransacked each and every time by the bloodthirsty, destructive horde. But, as proud citizens of Azeroth, we returned and rebuilt after each army was repelled. My father would help the trees regrow, planting a new tree for every one he felled for the lumber industry. He truly loved the forest with a passion I had yet to feel.

The burning legion, a fierce army of demons invaded the lands to the north from the frozen wastelands, intent upon the destruction of all life. Everyone they killed, they raised as zombies, ghouls and other monstrous undead abominations to fight against us. The call to arms went out and my father answered. I was thirteen and was told to stay home by my father and look after our newly planted forest. The second war had taken it’s toll and we were beginning to see it flourish once more.

That was the last I ever saw of my father. Weeks later, the word came back to my mother from his unit that he had fallen in the battle of Darrowshire, one of the last major settlements in the north. I have never known grief as bad as this. I was always very close to my father and took his death like a hammer blow to the chest. The priests at Northshire Abbey recognised my pain and told me that my father would not like to see me like this. They showed me the light and under their watchful eye, I was reborn. I studied hard and continued to work the forester’s trade, as father has painstakingly taught me over my early years. I had too much of a temper to be admitted to the priesthood, but I felt I should maintain ties with the church of the light.

After being taught the virtues of protecting my fellows and the techniques of using the power of the light to heal wounds, I was assigned to the village of Goldshire within the Elwynn Forest to work for the Stormwind guard.

Soon after my recruitment to the guard, I was given the weekend off to make the journey to Stormwind and spend my monies. My first destination was the grand cathedral, where I donated half of my wage to the church. I sat in prayer and nearly fell off the pew as I could have sworn I saw my father walk up the aisle and kneel down to pray. Stumbling out of the cathedral in shock, I made my way to the fountain outside the cathedral and splashed my face, desperate to wake up from this vision. My heartbeat slowed and I slumped onto one of the stone benches, allowing myself to regain composure. I decided to take a walk along the canals and maybe do a little shopping for sundries which aren’t available to guards when on duty.

As I walked, I heard the town crier ringing his bell. I decided to listen, in case it was of any interest.

“O yea! O yea! The Brotherhood of Light is recruiting brave men and women to fight for the protection of our nation and its citizens! Speak with Brother Anterean Laoch in the Cathedral of Light at 1800 hours this evening! Light bless the king!” I looked up at the clock tower in the Old Town district and saw it pointing to a quarter to six. I made my way back to the cathedral and spoke with one of the friendly monks, Brother Sarno.

“Greetings Paladin. Welcome To the Cathedral of Light.” I bowed respectfully to the monk
“Hail, brother. Pray could you tell me if you are familiar with a man by the name of Anterean Laoch? I must speak with him.”
“I am a good friend of Antrerean’s he said he would be here later tonight. If you would take a seat, I shall send him over to you when he arrives.” The monk smiled at me, as I thanked him and took a seat to the side of the main rank of pews. I was apprehensive, sitting here, waiting for a man I had never met, with the possibility of being accosted by the spectre of my father once more… or had I dreamt it?

At 6/14/06 11:41 AM, Coop83 wrote: As you're probably aware, I'm addicted to the MMORPG, World of Warcraft. I'm currently on a Roleplaying server, so I decided to come up with a little background for my character, though I'll ahve to flesh it out a little before calling it my final draft. Comments are welcome, as always.

Cool. I like the fact you gave half your wage to the church. lol. You must be Catholic. haha.

So are you any good? Is your character some crazy combatant or anything? Lvl 70? lol... im just making shit up, i know nothing about video games.

I would love to join this guild too. I love to write....mostly fantasy and sci-fi and would love it if a flash animator would want to use my script in an animation since I'm a super newbie when it comes to flash even though I can draw ^^;

http://www.deviantar../deviation/33671009/

That is one of the stories I'm working on....though I don't really think it would work good as a flash.
I do have a story I think would work though called Demon Hunters....I'll have to type it out and post it for anyone who would like to read it.
The concept of Demon Hunters is:
A young girl living in an abusive family decides to take her own life only to be punished by becoming one of the fallen. As such she now has to earn her place as a demon hunter by chasing down demons that cross over into the human world. She looses all her memories of her previous life including the death of her brother a year before her own death. Though these memories are slowly unlocked in her dreams and also because of her partner that somehow looks very familiar to her.

At 6/14/06 10:04 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: Cool. I like the fact you gave half your wage to the church. lol. You must be Catholic. haha.

Well, it's just one of those things you say. I'm not actually giving my money away in game.

So are you any good? Is your character some crazy combatant or anything? Lvl 70? lol... im just making shit up, i know nothing about video games.

I'm level 26 of 60, I would be leveling up faster, but my character's gf (yes, that's RPing for you) has stopped him from going out to fight, due to broken ribs.

I'll post more later

A rushed job, I just enjoyed the title of it so I wrote something to it:

Said The Fox To The Chicken.

Give me your hand,
Take what I give,
You seem hungry?
You'll need it to live.

Give me your body,
Take this shelter,
You seem worn?
Feel in no time better.

Give me your head,
Take a sleep.
You seem tired?
Go in deep.

At 6/15/06 08:40 AM, Coop83 wrote: I'm level 26 of 60, I would be leveling up faster, but my character's gf (yes, that's RPing for you) has stopped him from going out to fight, due to broken ribs.

What the fuck? Didn't you play WoW?

I know that in traditional RPGs that's usual, but I had no idea those features existed in games such as WoW, unless your guild just takes the RPing a little bit further...?

The forty seven words.

It's jumpin' at Charlestown!"
i yell
with cotton-mouthed contrariness
and if that wasn't enough
i went back to Summer Bay
but forthwith and forewarned
my bucolic buzzard said "that 'aint nuttin'!".
oh my lives and wives
but hark i hear
upon
and under
the splendid ear;
"oh my sportin' life"

At 6/16/06 07:32 AM, Andersson wrote: What the fuck? Didn't you play WoW?

Yes, I do play WoW (probably too much, but I'm hopelessly addicted)

I know that in traditional RPGs that's usual, but I had no idea those features existed in games such as WoW, unless your guild just takes the RPing a little bit further...?

On the slightly more extreme RP servers (not the ones where only PvP counts etc) some characters get into relationships. There is even a shop for wedding rings and associated paraphinaelia. My human paladin has met a rather lovely night elf, who has fallen head over heels in 'love' and it's making for some good guild based RP (at the mention of cybersex, I'm going to run like hell). The story hasn't got as far as Gherin meeting Alvelee yet, but it will, soon enough.

At 6/16/06 08:11 AM, Coop83 wrote: Yes, I do play WoW (probably too much, but I'm hopelessly addicted)

Hehe, like everyone who plays WoW that is. XD

On the slightly more extreme RP servers (not the ones where only PvP counts etc) some characters get into relationships. There is even a shop for wedding rings and associated paraphinaelia. My human paladin has met a rather lovely night elf, who has fallen head over heels in 'love' and it's making for some good guild based RP (at the mention of cybersex, I'm going to run like hell).

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! XD

By the way, human paladin in a relationship with a night elf? Weird. I mean... a wood elf or whatever, okay, but I've never heard of that before... heh a night elf.

The story hasn't got as far as Gherin meeting Alvelee yet, but it will, soon enough.

Hm, I don't play WoW so that makes no sense...

The mist swirled gently through the air unconcerned by the events that unfolded around it. It paid little attention to the men in hooded cloaks that stood in the middle of nowhere digging a hole in the ground. If the mist had been sentient it would have thought it odd that these men were dressed in hooded cloaks in the middle of nowhere digging up what looked like a coffin.

“Are you sure this is it?” said one of the hooded men.

“I should imagine so. We followed the instructions to get here to the letter. We passed the Bridge Of Near Certain Doom didn’t we?” came the reply from one of the other hooded men.

“Yeah, it was next to that little ram shackle hut near the river. I didn’t see the pit of eternal screaming on the way here though. Did you?”

“No…no…come to think of it I didn’t. But we definitely passed the mound of indistinguishable noises.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that” said the hooded man as he leant on his shovel “They were hardly indistinguishable though. Sounded like somebody blowing into a bottle and scratching some keys down a chalkboard to me.”

“Will you two please shut the hell up!” hissed the third hooded man.

“Well get you!” said the first hooded man “We was only talking about whether or not this was the right place. After all, it was you who was reading the map to get here and we ALL know what happened on the way to Mr and Mrs Portent’s party don’t we?”

“Alright, alright! Honestly, I take one wrong turning once on the way to the party and I’m labelled for life!”

“One wrong turning! If I remember correctly we ended up in Fifage Road! A good five miles away from where we wanted to be!” said the second hooded man his voice getting louder.

“Keep quiet you idiot!” snapped the third man “Do you want to tell the world that we’re here? Now look! I am aware that at the time you are referring to, I did, in fact, make mistakes that led us to be someway away from where we needed to be. But…” he said pre-empting his companion’s interruption “the fact that we have dug up the grave and found the coffin; precisely where the map told us it was going to be, surely tells you that we are, in fact, in the right place?”

“Well… when you put it like that” mumbled the first man as he struck the shovel into the ground and continued to dig.

The men continued to dig and eventually managed to free the coffin from its earthly grave.

“Cor…will ya look at this!” said the hooded man that hadn’t spoken yet “’s got writin’ all o’er it!”

“Really?” said the third man as he pushed his way past his other two comrades to look at the writing.

He looked at the coffin and sure enough, some hand had scrawled across the top of the coffin in writing a message. He took a deep breath and began to read.

Here lies Uther Pendragon.
If found please return to 19 Merlin Plaza
Camelot

“Coo!” said the fourth hooded man “Imagine that! King Uther’s grave out ‘ere in the middle o’ nowhere. You’d fink that some fancy pants king would have ‘ad his grave in some cathedral someplace underneath a fancy pants castle.”

“Apparently this one decided against it” said the third man brushing the dirt off of the coffin to see if there was any more writing.

“Well…”said the second man “What now? We’ve got the Coffin, but how are we supposed to get it back to that wizard bloke without being spotted?”

“Leave that to me” replied the third man with a wistful sigh

There are certain areas of towns that decent folks do not frequent. These sorts of areas are normally places where the idea of subtlety is asking someone to give you their money before you stab them and it was in one of these areas where Arthur had found himself when he awoke from his night on the town. The rotten smell of garbage was not unknown to him, he had spent a few years working as a garbage man, and he quite enjoyed it in fact. The pool of urine that he found his head in was also quite normal. It was common knowledge that there was a great overpopulation of cats on the streets and they had to relieve themselves somewhere. No, everything was as it should be for Arthur, he had the stinking headache, his mouth was dry as a desert and he felt as though suicide was a viable option to relieve his pain.

After moaning and groaning for a good five minutes he managed to pull himself up, stagger out of the alleyway into the main street. It was a nice day. The sun was shining; the people of Camelot were out and about doing whatever it was they wanted to do. There were quite a few people around on this particular morning, and they were all staring at Arthur as he walked through the streets on his way home, hoping that he could find something in his house to cure his headache.

It wasn’t until Arthur stopped at a fruit stall to buy himself some breakfast that the reason the inhabitants of Camelot were staring at him became apparent.

“Err…morning squire” said the stall owner as he polished an apple with his cloth.

“Morning” yawned Arthur “How much for a couple of Apples?”

“Well Sir,” replied the Shop keeper “normally I’d charge a good two copper for two apples. But…for you sir…err…I’ll make a special deal.”

A special deal? Arthur’s ears pricked up. Whenever a shopkeeper offered him a deal it normally meant that something odd was happening.

“Why are you giving me a special deal?” he asked cautiously.

“Well sir, if people see me selling you fruit, and it is good fruit sir, all locally grown as well I might add, they may start to think “Goodness me! Has eating that fruit given that man his…” err…shall we say masculine appearance?”

Arthur thought briefly for a moment. It wasn’t often he was complimented on his appearance, and he couldn’t see a flaw in accepting the deal, after all, surely a man who was complimenting him wouldn’t try and screw him out of his money would he?

“Why not?” he said and started to fumble around for his money pouch. All he felt was his bare skin. He looked down and saw that his manhood was shining forth for the entire world to see.

The realisation that he was standing naked in the middle of the market began to dawn upon him. His cheeks began to redden as he moved his hands to cover up his genitalia. He swore to himself and vowed never to play drinking games with Father Kalin again. That priest was more trouble than he was worth, even when he did offer to pay for the beer.

“Would you care for a fig leaf sir?” smiled the shop keeper “We have them on special offer today.”

(continued in next post)

“Ah...no…no thanks. I…think… I think that I’ll be going now thank you very much” he stuttered.

“Tell you what sir. Have a complimentary sausage and two potatoes. Special deal ladies and gents! Two free potatoes and a sausage with every buy!” shouted the Shop keeper.

“Thank you very much” cringed Arthur as he tried to make his way through the laughing crowd concealing his meat and two vegetables.

To say that Arthur was somewhat embarrassed by the situation of having to walk through the city with nothing but two potatoes and a sausage to hide his manhood from the prying eyes of passers by was an understatement. He felt as though finding a large rock and crawling under it and hiding for a good number of years was not only a good idea, but was extremely desirable as well.

After weaving his way through alleyways and hiding a few times in public toilets Arthur managed to get himself back to his house without anyone he knew spotting him. He was, however, now faced with the conundrum of getting into his house with the door locked and him without a key.

Arthur sneaked round to the back of the building hoping that the caretaker of the building had left the back door open. He swore profusely as he turned the knob on the handle. The door was locked.

He kicked the door and sat down on one of the many crates that littered the alleyway.

“YEOOOOOW!” he yelled as he grasped his derriere. The scream echoed around the alley and woke up its only inhabitant. The ginger tom opened its good eye slowly and looked at Arthur with the kind of disdain that only a cat can. It closed its eye and went back to sleep as though nothing had happened.

Arthur fumbled around and tried to remove the splinter that had managed to lodge itself into his rear end.

“Sonnuva bitch!” he cried as he managed to extract the splinter. The cat looked up at him again. It was a look that said “What are you doing? Don’t you realise you’re interrupting MY beauty sleep?” If Arthur had realised what the cat was thinking he would have undoubtedly come out with a witty comeback which would have gone along the lines of saying that the cat needed all the beauty sleep it could get because of its rather distinct and battered facial features which made the cat look as attractive as a Platypus that has been run over by a ten tonne lorry…twice.

Arthur glared at the cat as it let its head rest once more on the crate it was using an impromptu bed.

“Bloody cat” he muttered as he glanced at the crate to make sure there were no more splinters and sat down. “I don’t know why Mrs Porthouse keeps that evil thing around.”

A brief glance upwards to check if it was going to rain caused Arthur’s eyes to fall upon something that would save him from sitting outside till the janitor turned up. The window to his apartment was open. He smiled as he realised that all he’d have to do was climb up the wall and clamber through the window. Climbing up the wall was no problem. The guttering was strong enough to take his weight and it was close enough to the window that with a bit of a jump he could land on the ledge and get into his apartment.

He tugged the guttering that crawled down the side of building to test its strength. It seemed very solid.

“Well its now or never” he muttered to himself. The cat was looking on with a great interest as Arthur started to climb up the guttering. The guttering seemed to hold his weight quite well. It creaked a little but all in all it made a pretty decent ladder. Arthur managed to slide his way up the guttering and carefully managed to make his way onto the ledge of the open window.

“Phew” he sighed as he opened the window enough so he could climb through. It wasn’t until he climbed into the building that he realised that he had made a minor mistake.

The room was decorated with a floral wall paper that was a rather ghastly shade of pink. Cushions seemed to adorn every possible seating place in the room and each cushion had a white frilly doily laid out in the exact centre. Arthur’s eyes widened as he realised whose room he was in.

The door opened. Surrounded by the door frame was the slender figure of Arthur’s next door neighbour, Guinevere. She walked into the room and looked at the naked form of Arthur and blinked.

“What are you doing in my room?” she asked

“Well you see…” began Arthur but was cut off.

“Wait. I have a better question. Why are you naked and in my room?”

Arthur felt his cheeks burn as he blushed with embarrassment. He began to stutter out a reply but failed to find the words to explain the situation properly.

“I…I was…umm…You see…” he babbled before falling silent again.

“You know what? Don’t even bother! Just get out. Ok?” she interrupted.

Guinevere stood aside to let Arthur through and he hurriedly darted through the door, along the corridor and into his own apartment. Under other conditions he would have been only to glad to be in Guinevere’s apartment wearing nothing but a smile, she was, after all, a very attractive woman, but alas, poor Arthur had yet to succeed in his attempts to woo her and bring her to his bedchamber. This wasn’t much of a surprise as Arthur’s experience with enticing women to spend a night with him was equal to that of the chances of a dragon suddenly deciding that he is going to give up his dragonish ways and then become a nun in an abbey devtoed to the church of Scientology. That is to say, none.

------------------

Bit of feed back would be nice if people don't mind :-)

I decided to try something different. I dumped the ryhming thing and decided to go for some system for this, the verses go 8,5,5,6 except the final verse that goes 8,5,5,8:

Questions.

What if I was to rip it out?
Burn all the pages?
Forget it happened?
Would you love me so then?

If it could of never happened?
Should I make it so?
Rip up the photos?
Would you love me so then?

What if she never excisted?
Should it be murder?
And bury her deep?
Would you love me so then?

If I get caught by the police?
If I stand in court?
Should I scream "sorry,
I did it in the name of love"?

Just reading all that is funny. 'head over heals'... man, i didnt realize people got so intense into these games. You two cshould have a kid, and it can be me. I'll make ur lives hell.

Haha. That'd be one ugly lookin' kid (jk....maybe :P) Um...if anyone's a good, sorta realistic animator who may wanna check out a serious-themed series I'm writin' (two other guys under consideration at the moment), just click hya to see the general scoop: "Ghost Town"

The same information and some info on another series I'm writing that still may need an animator (again, other guy in consideration), this one a more cartoonish comedy, is on p. 166 of this thread. Thaaaaaaaaaaaanks!

Ooh, I really missed this place :)
It's been ages since I wrote that much, I have a bit more of Snowfields done, plus I'm woking on a piece entitled The Time Line, all about a chap who finds a time machine in the desert after escaping a burning down oil refinery... or something along those lines.
I will no doubt post them at some point.

And I know I always say this, but I will comment on some of the new articles.

DAAAAANG its been ages since i've been on NG O.o

wow im glad to see the writers guild is still going =D

hm i need to post some more of my work.. i think i'll do that tomorrow due to the fact its 12:30am here

At 6/19/06 07:21 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: Ooh, I really missed this place :)

i really miss that good ol'roleplay you had going, but i never found time to keep up with. We should do something like that again sometime. oh ya, that reminds me of that ongoing story we had too that got right out of whack. good times on NG.

I will no doubt post them at some point.

cant wait. i'll catch them somewhere i am sure.

And I know I always say this, but I will comment on some of the new articles.

I say that too. I wish it panned out more often.

At 6/19/06 07:29 PM, Dangan wrote: DAAAAANG its been ages since i've been on NG O.o

good to see ya again.

and ya, we have all been doing a rush back lately it seems. summer does that.

wow im glad to see the writers guild is still going =D

i was too! :)

hm i need to post some more of my work.. i think i'll do that tomorrow due to the fact its 12:30am here

sounds good man. i will look again.

At 6/16/06 12:57 PM, Andersson wrote: Hm, I don't play WoW so that makes no sense...

Gherin is the human Paladin (the protagonist of my tale) Alvelee is the green haired night elf maiden who made his heart skip a beat (coming soon)

At 6/17/06 06:19 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: Just reading all that is funny. 'head over heals'... man, i didnt realize people got so intense into these games. You two cshould have a kid, and it can be me. I'll make ur lives hell.

I just enjoy some good RPing. I've seen quite a few people create Gnome characters to play then as children for a few months and then change them to a 'more grown up' human or dwarf. (It doesn't work for the elves)