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Codex Good Old Games Short Story Competition
- Thread starter DarkUnderlord
- Start date
The Vanished One
Prophet
- Joined
- Nov 7, 2006
- Messages
- 1,246
Data4
Arcane
(continued)
The pilot, whose name was Peters, conversed quietly with the dockmaster, a stout man of about the same age as Peters, and who spoke with the accent of a born and bred Newfoundlander. Most likely, it was of docking fees and trivial talk of the weather, but I couldn't help but note a sense of familiarity between the two. Peters made a living ferrying passengers and mail from port to port along the New England seaboard, so it was perfectly reasonable that they knew eachother.
The inquisitive mind of a scientist is a hard one to quiet, so rather than turn off my curiosity, I redirected it through the grimy windows of the dockhouse to the few denizens of the village who were out and about. I noticed that there was virtually no interaction between them. My experiences with small towns has, up to this point, indicated a strong sense of community, where two people meeting from opposite directions usually resulted in a lazy half hour's worth of superficial conversation. By contrast, it appeared that these individuals were islands unto themselves, paying no heed to those who passed by. This was of anthropological significance, and prompted questions I would be sure to ask Dr. Scobee in our meeting the next morning.
"'Ey, ya. Mainlander!" I turned to see the dockmaster beckoning me over. "Peters 'ere, 'e says yer lookin' ta hear aboot ta local legends an' tings like tat."
"Well," I said, a bit unprepared,"I had heard some pretty fascinating stories coming from this area... but... if you'll pardon me," I hurriedly opened my attache and retrieved a notebook, pen, and bottle of ink. "I'd like to take some notes."
"Oh sure, ya writin' it down, but yer not takin' my name. Tese stories is jus' wat te fishers tell over a brew, but tey stick aroond, and stuff like that."
I nodded and paid close attention to the man's tale, as he meandered about, giving details about locals in a familiar tone, as if I knew "Miss Mary Belle, ya know, over by teh stands and such". As best as I could decipher, the subject of the story was a man by the name of Richard Volourn, who was a dabbler in the occult arts that lived in the vicinity of Arpygee Codessia some 200 years ago. It would seem that he and a few of his fellows worked in league with Esquimaux cultists. I had read the reports of Professor William Webb in my studies at Princeton, and my curiosity was immediately piqued. This tied directly into my reason for being here, and made my anticipation of the appointment with Dr. Scobee the next morning that much greater.
"An' so," finished the dockmaster, "Tis became teh legend'er ol Multiheaded Dick."
(to be continued)
The pilot, whose name was Peters, conversed quietly with the dockmaster, a stout man of about the same age as Peters, and who spoke with the accent of a born and bred Newfoundlander. Most likely, it was of docking fees and trivial talk of the weather, but I couldn't help but note a sense of familiarity between the two. Peters made a living ferrying passengers and mail from port to port along the New England seaboard, so it was perfectly reasonable that they knew eachother.
The inquisitive mind of a scientist is a hard one to quiet, so rather than turn off my curiosity, I redirected it through the grimy windows of the dockhouse to the few denizens of the village who were out and about. I noticed that there was virtually no interaction between them. My experiences with small towns has, up to this point, indicated a strong sense of community, where two people meeting from opposite directions usually resulted in a lazy half hour's worth of superficial conversation. By contrast, it appeared that these individuals were islands unto themselves, paying no heed to those who passed by. This was of anthropological significance, and prompted questions I would be sure to ask Dr. Scobee in our meeting the next morning.
"'Ey, ya. Mainlander!" I turned to see the dockmaster beckoning me over. "Peters 'ere, 'e says yer lookin' ta hear aboot ta local legends an' tings like tat."
"Well," I said, a bit unprepared,"I had heard some pretty fascinating stories coming from this area... but... if you'll pardon me," I hurriedly opened my attache and retrieved a notebook, pen, and bottle of ink. "I'd like to take some notes."
"Oh sure, ya writin' it down, but yer not takin' my name. Tese stories is jus' wat te fishers tell over a brew, but tey stick aroond, and stuff like that."
I nodded and paid close attention to the man's tale, as he meandered about, giving details about locals in a familiar tone, as if I knew "Miss Mary Belle, ya know, over by teh stands and such". As best as I could decipher, the subject of the story was a man by the name of Richard Volourn, who was a dabbler in the occult arts that lived in the vicinity of Arpygee Codessia some 200 years ago. It would seem that he and a few of his fellows worked in league with Esquimaux cultists. I had read the reports of Professor William Webb in my studies at Princeton, and my curiosity was immediately piqued. This tied directly into my reason for being here, and made my anticipation of the appointment with Dr. Scobee the next morning that much greater.
"An' so," finished the dockmaster, "Tis became teh legend'er ol Multiheaded Dick."
(to be continued)
Data4
Arcane
(continued)
The storm was fierce as our little boat tumbled across the violently undulating sea. The sky rippled with evil clouds, low and dark, expelling torrential rain and belching loud and resonant thunder that vibrated me to the bone. Peters' arm was broken, but he braced against the wheel with his good arm like a man fighting for his mortal soul.
"THE SUMP!" he bellowed at me, as I scrambled to secure the boxes of artifacts on deck. "Check the sump! Bail it with your hands if you have to!" I could barely hear him over the din, but I understood. The boat was rapidly taking on water, and if the pumps couldn't do their work, we were as good as dead. I went below to the pump closet and felt my heart sink. Various debris had collected around the intake valve, and there was a high likelihood that small pieces of flotsam had made their way inside the pipe. Without tools of any sort, I was left only to do what the pilot had ordered as a cynical afterthought to his command. A bucket was among the debris, and while better than my own hands, the picture of my heaving bucketfuls of water on deck in this veritable maelstrom was one of comic futility.
My concentration was broken by the sound of Peters screaming in unadulterated terror from on deck, and I scrambled up the ladder--bucket still in hand-- in time to see a tentacle-like arm flail upon the deck from beneath the surface of the water. Only... it wasn't so much the tentacle of an octopus, and it was surely larger than one ever seen by the eyes of men. It was long and slender, but smooth all around, lacking the sucker-like nodes prevalent on the octopus. The end of the appendage was bulbous in nature, and lent the whole thing a phallic appearance. It lashed at Peters, swiping him across the buttocks and legs, as the pilot supplicated to his maker. "Oh God!" he screamed, the pain clear in his voice.
"Peters!" I screamed, cursing my lack of a weapon of any kind. Without any further thought, I threw the bucket at the appendage, hoping to distract it in some way, when another of its type burst through the surface of the water, flailing at my legs. I fell forward as it came down, hitting my back, buttocks and legs, as I, too, called out in desperation, "Oh God... Oh God!" My vision blacked out, or rather, redded out as blood vessels burst in my eyes. All at once, there was silence and stillness. Before me, a glass-like path leading to a bright light. "Oh God," I whispered, "It's... heaven?"
I awoke with a start to a silent bedroom, save the the ever so slight ticking coming from the wall clock. It read 6:15. AM, no doubt. I was soaked in sweat, and the bedcloths were crumpled in a heap on the floor. My breathing, still heavy, started to ease, and I could feel and hear the pounding of my heart begin to subside. "A dream", I whispered aloud. It seems the Legend of Multiheaded Dick had invaded my sleep. I chuckled uneasily, recalling the wild-eyed look on the dockmaster's face as he told the tale the day before. I'd read the notes several times over before going to sleep last night. No doubt, it provided fuel to the fires of the sandman. I would be meeting Dr. Scobee in just under two hours, and hopefully gain some answers to my many questions.
(to be continued)
The storm was fierce as our little boat tumbled across the violently undulating sea. The sky rippled with evil clouds, low and dark, expelling torrential rain and belching loud and resonant thunder that vibrated me to the bone. Peters' arm was broken, but he braced against the wheel with his good arm like a man fighting for his mortal soul.
"THE SUMP!" he bellowed at me, as I scrambled to secure the boxes of artifacts on deck. "Check the sump! Bail it with your hands if you have to!" I could barely hear him over the din, but I understood. The boat was rapidly taking on water, and if the pumps couldn't do their work, we were as good as dead. I went below to the pump closet and felt my heart sink. Various debris had collected around the intake valve, and there was a high likelihood that small pieces of flotsam had made their way inside the pipe. Without tools of any sort, I was left only to do what the pilot had ordered as a cynical afterthought to his command. A bucket was among the debris, and while better than my own hands, the picture of my heaving bucketfuls of water on deck in this veritable maelstrom was one of comic futility.
My concentration was broken by the sound of Peters screaming in unadulterated terror from on deck, and I scrambled up the ladder--bucket still in hand-- in time to see a tentacle-like arm flail upon the deck from beneath the surface of the water. Only... it wasn't so much the tentacle of an octopus, and it was surely larger than one ever seen by the eyes of men. It was long and slender, but smooth all around, lacking the sucker-like nodes prevalent on the octopus. The end of the appendage was bulbous in nature, and lent the whole thing a phallic appearance. It lashed at Peters, swiping him across the buttocks and legs, as the pilot supplicated to his maker. "Oh God!" he screamed, the pain clear in his voice.
"Peters!" I screamed, cursing my lack of a weapon of any kind. Without any further thought, I threw the bucket at the appendage, hoping to distract it in some way, when another of its type burst through the surface of the water, flailing at my legs. I fell forward as it came down, hitting my back, buttocks and legs, as I, too, called out in desperation, "Oh God... Oh God!" My vision blacked out, or rather, redded out as blood vessels burst in my eyes. All at once, there was silence and stillness. Before me, a glass-like path leading to a bright light. "Oh God," I whispered, "It's... heaven?"
I awoke with a start to a silent bedroom, save the the ever so slight ticking coming from the wall clock. It read 6:15. AM, no doubt. I was soaked in sweat, and the bedcloths were crumpled in a heap on the floor. My breathing, still heavy, started to ease, and I could feel and hear the pounding of my heart begin to subside. "A dream", I whispered aloud. It seems the Legend of Multiheaded Dick had invaded my sleep. I chuckled uneasily, recalling the wild-eyed look on the dockmaster's face as he told the tale the day before. I'd read the notes several times over before going to sleep last night. No doubt, it provided fuel to the fires of the sandman. I would be meeting Dr. Scobee in just under two hours, and hopefully gain some answers to my many questions.
(to be continued)
POOPERSCOOPER
Prophet
I could feel it coming like a thousand pounds of draino but I just needed to go outside and try to change my life. I've been walking closer and closer each day to the nearest town to see what people have been up to. I stood on top of the hill looking down at the people going on about their superficial lives.
The gurgle became a bit louder and I knew something was wrong, I tried releasing a gentle pressure fart but ended up spraying the back of my pants with butt juice. I bit my upper lip with my lower teeth and contemplated what to do next.
I started running as fast as I could to my house. Sweat was pouring down my face and my face was getting more and more red, my 300 pounds of man was killing my knees but I kept running because I could feel the beast wanting to come out like a hundred pound baby out of a 90 pound woman. It was no longer an incident that I could tell the internet about as it became a situation of life and death. I was gasping for air in the hot Australian desert and it kept fogging up my coke bottle glasses.
When reaching my house I noticed that my moms car was there, I had forgotten it was my birthday again. I had more important things to do like taking a shit and I busted down the front door that knocked my mom in her face and she was out cold on the floor. I could anticipate the relief I was about to experience once I reached my destination in time. I run over to my blazing fast computer and quickly log into RPGcodex as Darkunderlord then I turn around and don't even bother taking off my pants. I unleashed a massive fart that ripped my pants off and then ensued a blast of shit all over my computer and keyboard while I couldn't stop laughing at what I was doing. After I was done I took a look at my glorious work and hit enter and my post count increased by one.
The gurgle became a bit louder and I knew something was wrong, I tried releasing a gentle pressure fart but ended up spraying the back of my pants with butt juice. I bit my upper lip with my lower teeth and contemplated what to do next.
I started running as fast as I could to my house. Sweat was pouring down my face and my face was getting more and more red, my 300 pounds of man was killing my knees but I kept running because I could feel the beast wanting to come out like a hundred pound baby out of a 90 pound woman. It was no longer an incident that I could tell the internet about as it became a situation of life and death. I was gasping for air in the hot Australian desert and it kept fogging up my coke bottle glasses.
When reaching my house I noticed that my moms car was there, I had forgotten it was my birthday again. I had more important things to do like taking a shit and I busted down the front door that knocked my mom in her face and she was out cold on the floor. I could anticipate the relief I was about to experience once I reached my destination in time. I run over to my blazing fast computer and quickly log into RPGcodex as Darkunderlord then I turn around and don't even bother taking off my pants. I unleashed a massive fart that ripped my pants off and then ensued a blast of shit all over my computer and keyboard while I couldn't stop laughing at what I was doing. After I was done I took a look at my glorious work and hit enter and my post count increased by one.
spacemoose
Erudite
POOPERSCOOPER said:
spacemoose
Erudite
pooperscooper you are the voice of the people
Jason
chasing a bee
Damn.
One of the categories DU proposed was "Pete Hines: Man of Action" but I thought no because Pooper would just repost Fallout Sitcom and auto-win.
One of the categories DU proposed was "Pete Hines: Man of Action" but I thought no because Pooper would just repost Fallout Sitcom and auto-win.
Fat Dragon
Arbiter
We have a winner. Nothing will be able to top this.POOPERSCOOPER said:
Attack of the 50-foot Multi-Headed Dick.
I'm not much of a writer (so forgive my grammar) but I thought I'd give it a bash and share the story :
The people of the small Swedish village knew it would come, it has done so every year. This year they wanted try once again and prevent the spawning of more little dicks as their women got pregnant all over the village.
It started with a light tremor and they realized he would soon be there. Ferdinand was the first to behold the sight ... The first knob slowly rose and dipped between the two large hills in the furthest valley followed by another knob and then another by the first one's side. Bouncing on the two balls beneath them the purple crowns swung into each other to and fro. 50-foot tall it made for an amazing sight. When a downhill was available the motion was smoothed out as the dickheads clung to the top off their balls while rolling downwards. It was stunning to behold such a pro-creation; and it would have delighted most of the towns people except for they knew what was soon to follow. Previously they tried to appease it by giving it a hand and stroking it. Once they tried to suck it in a large vacuum but that only excited it more. This time however the mayor, Derriere, have came up with a cunning plan, a scheming plan so devious and diabolical it just blew everybody's mind.
The Multi-headed dick stopped suddenly as it came down the hill and almost fell off it's balls. Before it lay a big man made dam. The dicks on the outside swayed to the side in it's confusion - looking for away around the dam. Whereas the dick in the middle dipped it's head into the water trying to determine the depth, it came out a bit shrivelled. After a while it determined that the only way forward was through the dam. It limped into the water, as the water was very cold all the dicks shrivelled - containing themselves to the warmth of the balls beneath them.
The town held their breath - would it make it through ? A few minutes later, to their dismay the three knobs prodded their heads out of the water, clinging to their balls. The dicks looked pale and was shrunk to only 20 feet high. It then started bouncing on the left ball as water spurted first from the left dick and then it did the same for the right. It bounced on both and the middle one also pissed out some more water. Slowly the dickheads started rising to their former glory, 25 feet, 30 feet, 40 feet, 50 feet, no even higher than that ... 60 feet and finally slowed down at 70 feet. They stood up so stiff and straight that they even bended backwards, the balls beneath them started turning dark blue. Mayor Derriere gloated at the spectacle and nudged Roderick next to him in the ribs with his elbow. They have spent a whole year making all the Viagra they put into the water. "It's so big! " exclaimed one of the village people named Debbie.
"Now !" screamed the Mayor at the top of his voice. On the tall slopes above the Multi-Headed Dick the cranes quickly lowered the large condoms on to each of the overbloated stiff dicks. The multiheaded dick groaned and moaned as the protective sheeting was rolled tightly across the stiff members.
"Reeeelease the posters !" The mayor screamed once again. Slowly on each of the hills surrounding the Multi-Headed Dick the blown up Playboy posters was unrolled. After the last poster stopped rolling with a papery rustling sound, a calm quiet descended for a moment. Then the rumbling began. It started as a low gutteral sound, that the village knew all too well from previous years. They looked at each other smiling. The rumbling got louder and louder.
With a sudden thundering "Aaaaahhh !" sound the Multi-Headed Dick unloaded itself into the protective layer around it. "Oh my god !" Debbie exclaimed as the spectacle took her breath away. Afterwards the Multi-Headed Dick slowly realized what happened. It felt used, but could do nothing as weariness overcame it. The heads slumped over the emptied balls as it turned around and floundered back to where it came from.
The towns people was gay and started to prepare for the big feast that evening. No more will they have to swallow the crap that spewed forth from the Multi-Headed Dick.
I'm not much of a writer (so forgive my grammar) but I thought I'd give it a bash and share the story :
The people of the small Swedish village knew it would come, it has done so every year. This year they wanted try once again and prevent the spawning of more little dicks as their women got pregnant all over the village.
It started with a light tremor and they realized he would soon be there. Ferdinand was the first to behold the sight ... The first knob slowly rose and dipped between the two large hills in the furthest valley followed by another knob and then another by the first one's side. Bouncing on the two balls beneath them the purple crowns swung into each other to and fro. 50-foot tall it made for an amazing sight. When a downhill was available the motion was smoothed out as the dickheads clung to the top off their balls while rolling downwards. It was stunning to behold such a pro-creation; and it would have delighted most of the towns people except for they knew what was soon to follow. Previously they tried to appease it by giving it a hand and stroking it. Once they tried to suck it in a large vacuum but that only excited it more. This time however the mayor, Derriere, have came up with a cunning plan, a scheming plan so devious and diabolical it just blew everybody's mind.
The Multi-headed dick stopped suddenly as it came down the hill and almost fell off it's balls. Before it lay a big man made dam. The dicks on the outside swayed to the side in it's confusion - looking for away around the dam. Whereas the dick in the middle dipped it's head into the water trying to determine the depth, it came out a bit shrivelled. After a while it determined that the only way forward was through the dam. It limped into the water, as the water was very cold all the dicks shrivelled - containing themselves to the warmth of the balls beneath them.
The town held their breath - would it make it through ? A few minutes later, to their dismay the three knobs prodded their heads out of the water, clinging to their balls. The dicks looked pale and was shrunk to only 20 feet high. It then started bouncing on the left ball as water spurted first from the left dick and then it did the same for the right. It bounced on both and the middle one also pissed out some more water. Slowly the dickheads started rising to their former glory, 25 feet, 30 feet, 40 feet, 50 feet, no even higher than that ... 60 feet and finally slowed down at 70 feet. They stood up so stiff and straight that they even bended backwards, the balls beneath them started turning dark blue. Mayor Derriere gloated at the spectacle and nudged Roderick next to him in the ribs with his elbow. They have spent a whole year making all the Viagra they put into the water. "It's so big! " exclaimed one of the village people named Debbie.
"Now !" screamed the Mayor at the top of his voice. On the tall slopes above the Multi-Headed Dick the cranes quickly lowered the large condoms on to each of the overbloated stiff dicks. The multiheaded dick groaned and moaned as the protective sheeting was rolled tightly across the stiff members.
"Reeeelease the posters !" The mayor screamed once again. Slowly on each of the hills surrounding the Multi-Headed Dick the blown up Playboy posters was unrolled. After the last poster stopped rolling with a papery rustling sound, a calm quiet descended for a moment. Then the rumbling began. It started as a low gutteral sound, that the village knew all too well from previous years. They looked at each other smiling. The rumbling got louder and louder.
With a sudden thundering "Aaaaahhh !" sound the Multi-Headed Dick unloaded itself into the protective layer around it. "Oh my god !" Debbie exclaimed as the spectacle took her breath away. Afterwards the Multi-Headed Dick slowly realized what happened. It felt used, but could do nothing as weariness overcame it. The heads slumped over the emptied balls as it turned around and floundered back to where it came from.
The towns people was gay and started to prepare for the big feast that evening. No more will they have to swallow the crap that spewed forth from the Multi-Headed Dick.
Stephenie Meyer
Novice
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2009
- Messages
- 1
Holllllaaaa girl!
i hav this craaaaazzzii story n ima tell u but u haf 2 keep it a bff pinky promise secret 4 eva! did u c the newz last week? crazy i know! but the truth iz crazier! heres what reaaaallly happend for serious.
u know how my dad iz like a total dork? he works in this science lab, itz liek the biggest thing in this town and EVERYONE works there. so over summer he'z like "u wanna job?" n i'm like "duh" coz he knows i'm saving for europe next year (euro guyz r so hott lol). so i start this job n itz really ezy, i just answer phonez and play freecell lol.
sumtimez i drop off the mail, n therez this 1 guy whoze this total creep n he'z not at hiz desk so i knock on hiz lab door but while i'm knocking he comez up behind me! n he'z all like "get away, you cant go in there!" and totally losez his shit! so i'm like woteva and walk away but i c hiz pin number to unlock the door! sif ne1 can keep me out lol!
1 day after he'd gone home, i snuck in there. therez stairz down 2 the basement n i totally swear this next bit is true. therez cagez down there, but with glass like the penguinz @ the zoo. so scary lol but their all empty cept the last one. n OMFG i get close n itz like "wot iz that?" therez all these big fleshy thingz that look like giant c*ckz!!!! i know, lol! n i mean massive! like some are as big as my leg, but some are fatter than Simones fat azz lol
their all like moving and rubbing against the glass and squeaking! i should of run, but i get right down next to the glass n follow a c*ck with my i's to c what itz connected 2! n guess wot? their like the legs of this totally hott guy! like soooooo hott and totally ripped! my <3 jumped when i saw him looking str8 @ me!
i know this soudnz sooo crazy, but we started talking and he'z like sooo sweet and so sad. hiz dad (creepy lab guy!) turned him into a freaky c*cktopus to c wot would happen n keepz him locked up.
but i'd sneak down evry day and talk to him! <3
but then i got sick and couldn't come to work n i couldn't txt him coz he haz no phone. then i'm in bed at home and i hear sirenz and choperz flying around n had such a bad feeling! so i got in my car n followed the noize n therez edward tearing the town apart and smashing cars with hiz flailing c*ckz n the copz r shooting him!
so i ran to him n made the copz stop shooting but it wuz 2 l8. he looked up at me and was like "i thought u didnt want 2 c me nemore" n i was like "no edward i <3 u" but he didnt reply cuz hiz body had turned to diamonds
i hav this craaaaazzzii story n ima tell u but u haf 2 keep it a bff pinky promise secret 4 eva! did u c the newz last week? crazy i know! but the truth iz crazier! heres what reaaaallly happend for serious.
u know how my dad iz like a total dork? he works in this science lab, itz liek the biggest thing in this town and EVERYONE works there. so over summer he'z like "u wanna job?" n i'm like "duh" coz he knows i'm saving for europe next year (euro guyz r so hott lol). so i start this job n itz really ezy, i just answer phonez and play freecell lol.
sumtimez i drop off the mail, n therez this 1 guy whoze this total creep n he'z not at hiz desk so i knock on hiz lab door but while i'm knocking he comez up behind me! n he'z all like "get away, you cant go in there!" and totally losez his shit! so i'm like woteva and walk away but i c hiz pin number to unlock the door! sif ne1 can keep me out lol!
1 day after he'd gone home, i snuck in there. therez stairz down 2 the basement n i totally swear this next bit is true. therez cagez down there, but with glass like the penguinz @ the zoo. so scary lol but their all empty cept the last one. n OMFG i get close n itz like "wot iz that?" therez all these big fleshy thingz that look like giant c*ckz!!!! i know, lol! n i mean massive! like some are as big as my leg, but some are fatter than Simones fat azz lol
their all like moving and rubbing against the glass and squeaking! i should of run, but i get right down next to the glass n follow a c*ck with my i's to c what itz connected 2! n guess wot? their like the legs of this totally hott guy! like soooooo hott and totally ripped! my <3 jumped when i saw him looking str8 @ me!
i know this soudnz sooo crazy, but we started talking and he'z like sooo sweet and so sad. hiz dad (creepy lab guy!) turned him into a freaky c*cktopus to c wot would happen n keepz him locked up.
but i'd sneak down evry day and talk to him! <3but then i got sick and couldn't come to work n i couldn't txt him coz he haz no phone.
then i'm in bed at home and i hear sirenz and choperz flying around n had such a bad feeling! so i got in my car n followed the noize n therez edward tearing the town apart and smashing cars with hiz flailing c*ckz n the copz r shooting him!so i ran to him n made the copz stop shooting but it wuz 2 l8. he looked up at me and was like "i thought u didnt want 2 c me nemore" n i was like "no edward i <3 u" but he didnt reply cuz hiz body had turned to diamonds
Fat Dragon
Arbiter
Go away.
- Joined
- Nov 4, 2007
- Messages
- 14,809
Forgetting where we are?Wyrmlord said:
Stereotypical Villain
Arcane
Wyrmlord said:
You rang?
Kosmonaut said:Wyrmlord said:
Well put. It's so easy for people to judge other people's creativity - it is certainly not easy being creative and original, but it sure is easy to judge. Opinions are like assholes everyone's got one. (I am not just speaking in my own defense -which is probably atrocious - but at least I tried)
Data4
Arcane
fabrulana said:Kosmonaut said:Wyrmlord said:
Well put. It's so easy for people to judge other people's creativity - it is certainly not easy being creative and original, but it sure is easy to judge. Opinions are like assholes everyone's got one. (I am not just speaking in my own defense -which is probably atrocious - but at least I tried)
Too much fucking Kumba Ya here. ^^ We don't do Kumba Ya in the Codex.
rpgcodexusername
Arcane
mMOARpg - that is too funny
Data4 said:fabrulana said:Kosmonaut said:Wyrmlord said:
Well put. It's so easy for people to judge other people's creativity - it is certainly not easy being creative and original, but it sure is easy to judge. Opinions are like assholes everyone's got one. (I am not just speaking in my own defense -which is probably atrocious - but at least I tried)
Too much fucking Kumba Ya here. ^^ We don't do Kumba Ya in the Codex.
Sorry my bad :D
Zuluf
Scholar
The Day Before Grimoire
(a fictitious narrative through the eyes of genius Cleve Blakemore, circa 2015.)
The large victorian clock rang twenty to midnight. I hulked through the vast apartments, opening double doors and riding down staircases in the 28-room mansion, clapping to turn digital chandeliers on and off with childish routine. There was something relaxing in being obnoxiously rich. It all started when I sold the publishing rights to Grimoire to Zenimax, wholesaling t-shirts, posters and McDonald’s Action Figures to kids all over the globe.
I remember this one Zenimax suit telling me once: “You know, at this rate you don’t even have to finish the game.” I smirked, he couldn’t understand. None of them could.
The aching enormity that was my head shook with disapproval. How can they possibly understand? These intellectual dwarfs, these blockheaded mongrels spilling the maelstrom of our gene pool with common filth, how can they ever understand the Grand Scheme of the Grimoire?
They could not, naturally. As I watched the four swimming pools outside the mansion shimmer with the sharp fall of summer rain, I felt alienated from the rest of the human race. My mother once told me: “You’ll do something grand one day. Something to make me and your father very, very proud.”
So I strived, the whole shebang – locker doors in my face, jocks staring me down, the humility of not connecting with your average homo sapiens, always thinking in the back of my head, always reminding myself that the ubermensch living inside me will once burst like a xenomorph out of someone’s ribcage, gnawing away at the simplicity and naivitee of every “normal” bloke out there.
I had promised my mother, on her dying bed, that I will hold the world in my palm one day and that the magnitude of my actions will make the gods tremble.
A thunder, striking a pillar with all the writings snapped me back to the present. The intercom beeped briefly and the Zenimax CEO demanded that I upload Grimoire.ISO to the designated ftp server. After all, the pre-orders will get their download link at midnight. Or so they thought.
It would be somewhat cliche to cackle like an evil mastermind at this point. Or sneer, or rub my hands in malicious accomplishment. It would be redundant. There are eight billion people who have preordered my latest creation, and they will all scream in agony at the news of having lost 49,99$ each, but this gives me no pleasure, no satisfaction.
I walk to my laboratory, a hall of marble with slithering cables stretched between tens of LCD screens. Only one of them is turned on – flashing a confirmation window for the deletion of my masterpiece. Grimoire. ISO. I press yes and watch the fruit of twenty years’ labor fade away like stardust.
By the time they find out, it will all be too late. I pull the red curtains in my bedroom and see an angel – she says her name is Blair. The lace around her thigh unwinds and she reveals the wonders of the woman. They will never understand why I spent the intellectual effort equivalent of a Supernova and destroyed it in the blink of an eye. I prowl and descend upon her white, pale flesh and let out an evil laughter that shakes the halls as my virginity expires.
(a fictitious narrative through the eyes of genius Cleve Blakemore, circa 2015.)
The large victorian clock rang twenty to midnight. I hulked through the vast apartments, opening double doors and riding down staircases in the 28-room mansion, clapping to turn digital chandeliers on and off with childish routine. There was something relaxing in being obnoxiously rich. It all started when I sold the publishing rights to Grimoire to Zenimax, wholesaling t-shirts, posters and McDonald’s Action Figures to kids all over the globe.
I remember this one Zenimax suit telling me once: “You know, at this rate you don’t even have to finish the game.” I smirked, he couldn’t understand. None of them could.
The aching enormity that was my head shook with disapproval. How can they possibly understand? These intellectual dwarfs, these blockheaded mongrels spilling the maelstrom of our gene pool with common filth, how can they ever understand the Grand Scheme of the Grimoire?
They could not, naturally. As I watched the four swimming pools outside the mansion shimmer with the sharp fall of summer rain, I felt alienated from the rest of the human race. My mother once told me: “You’ll do something grand one day. Something to make me and your father very, very proud.”
So I strived, the whole shebang – locker doors in my face, jocks staring me down, the humility of not connecting with your average homo sapiens, always thinking in the back of my head, always reminding myself that the ubermensch living inside me will once burst like a xenomorph out of someone’s ribcage, gnawing away at the simplicity and naivitee of every “normal” bloke out there.
I had promised my mother, on her dying bed, that I will hold the world in my palm one day and that the magnitude of my actions will make the gods tremble.
A thunder, striking a pillar with all the writings snapped me back to the present. The intercom beeped briefly and the Zenimax CEO demanded that I upload Grimoire.ISO to the designated ftp server. After all, the pre-orders will get their download link at midnight. Or so they thought.
It would be somewhat cliche to cackle like an evil mastermind at this point. Or sneer, or rub my hands in malicious accomplishment. It would be redundant. There are eight billion people who have preordered my latest creation, and they will all scream in agony at the news of having lost 49,99$ each, but this gives me no pleasure, no satisfaction.
I walk to my laboratory, a hall of marble with slithering cables stretched between tens of LCD screens. Only one of them is turned on – flashing a confirmation window for the deletion of my masterpiece. Grimoire. ISO. I press yes and watch the fruit of twenty years’ labor fade away like stardust.
By the time they find out, it will all be too late. I pull the red curtains in my bedroom and see an angel – she says her name is Blair. The lace around her thigh unwinds and she reveals the wonders of the woman. They will never understand why I spent the intellectual effort equivalent of a Supernova and destroyed it in the blink of an eye. I prowl and descend upon her white, pale flesh and let out an evil laughter that shakes the halls as my virginity expires.
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2002
- Messages
- 28,365
What?denizsi said:
No, fuck you.denizsi said:
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