Demondaze

Why do I always have to tell 'em? I hate tellin' 'em. It drains far too much of my brain juices already in short supply. Besides, a thousand pages by hand, when written in simple, sweet, golden words is allot easier than writing fifty seven pages of code, free-hand or computer or otherwise. But that might just be me. I am, after all, lazy. And besides that, I've written well over three thousand pages in collective works. I'm a font of imaginative juices. I'll read your story. Why not? I'm an insomniac writer; I've nothing but free time. I'll PM you my review.

It's complicated, sweat-draining and requires an anal-retentive attention to detail, so I'd have to agree with DD. You'll either have to pick a different subject matter, go through the agonizing learning process, or put in allot of requests for custom maps. It's daunting, the futuristic feel. I for one gave up on it about ten minutes into design. 'Course, I'm lazy.

Yeah, we make quite the Motley Crue. DON'T START SINGING! I just never use music puns. Thought I'd work on in somewhere. I thought it was a-music. (Get it? A-music, Amusing. God I kill me.) EDIT -- My brother just thought I should add "If only"

So that'll be one large project with pretty-graphics-pepperoni, great-gameplay-green peppers and a side order of super spicy buffalo wings (just for fun). I'll be posting some basic info on my crowd pleasing project just as soon as I finish my three-hundred page magnum obis, "Alien Youth." So, tomorrow, I will awe and bedazzle with my word-power. And get some creative juices flowing. NO, WRONG JUICES! WRONG JUICES!

What can I say? I'm brilliant.

Nope. Sorry Dark Dragon, but in the time since we've been gone, the site has begun to severely discriminate against the evil-geniuses like we two fine Shmokes-s. They don't like our pioneering attitude and lack of respect grammar and the english language. They want us destroyed. But more to the point, the easiest way to handle doors is to simply use the teleport option while playing a sound that sounds like a door opening and closing. Option two is more complex, but better. DD already got that one pretty good. (Okay, so he covered both. What's your point, shoulder Vader?)

Holy sausages Marked-man! Dark Dragon can actually type! And I, for one, am working on bringing this place back to life! I'm very dedicated! Nothing will distract me... oooo shiny.... I'm even advertising, despite no longer being on the advertising staff.

I'm the most spectacular, amazing, dragon-trained, son-of-a-god radioactive ninja super-hero the world has ever known. I... think... It's either that or I'm a rambling, nonsensical spouter of wild gibberish and sarcastic insights that both astound and alarm. One of the two, definitely. I was here shortly after the place opened, but because of my computer having a laser-vision related melt-down - by which I mean it shorted out and my mother board literally melted - I was forced to brick over my extremely secret lab of magnanimous megalomania-related sciences of the nefarious variety and vacate the location. But, after a long, painful and extremely necessary hiatus I have returned to visit upon the non-believer the special brand of sarcasm and scintillating witticism that characterize my unique sense of humor and writing style. Oh, yeah! I might have forgotten to mention this, but I'm sort of a literary genius. I'm outstandingly good with words and am capable of turning a phrase with the same skill Michael Jordan turns a ball. I'm simply amazing. But do not feel over-awed. I assure you I am a mostly mortal man, and despite my awesome powers of alliteration, I am no more a demonic man-beast today than I will be six months hence. Which is to say, not at all. Now, where in the wide world of sports did I put those pretzels?!

Nah, the problem is our resounding inability to churn out a project worthy of the legendary might of our creative juices. We need to generate some interest in the site, drag in some more of those weenies who don't do anything but dream of making video games all day long and force the resources into their slimy, ink-stained mitts. We need to either make a community project, like we had intended so long ago, or at least get a project we can host exclusively. We need something the other sites lack. Something big, with lots of pizazz. Which, interestingly, has nothing to do with pizza. Confused myself for a moment there. But I digress. We need something flashy and cool. And I have a flashy, cool idea to match. And it's got pizza in.

It's more a hobby than anything else.

It is good to be back, O'Supreme one. I missed you guys!

Mildly depressing how the place has died in the months I've been gone. I'm deeply saddened by this. Truly terrible how everything has slowed so much. I kinda wonder what happened.

I'm a huge fan of Strategy RPGs, such as TO, FFT, Disgaea:HoD, La Pucelle, and etc. I despise 7th generation graphics. The Wii, the 360, and the PS3 are the devil. They traded gameplay for looks. Makes me sick. PS2 is pretty much as far as I'll go. And arthritis sucks. Why would you want that? I can't uncurl the pinky finger on my left hand because of it.

Guess what, boys and ghouls. I'm back. I've returned. Lovely isn't it? Rejoice with me. So, you guys think this half-stoned idea is worth a shot? Alright. I always did love attention. Okies, I'll get right on this idea. I need to work out a Game Function document, figure some formulas, and look at some alternative engines. Torque Game Builder, for instance. I might have a White Page in a week, if we're all lucky. If anyone wants in on this, I'm more than willing to share the work. Just speak up, and be counted brothers and sisters! Let the light guide you! Or not. I'm a terrible evangelist. You're Healed!!!!! -Jimmy

1. Ramza Beoulve (Final Fantasy Tactics) 2. Overlord Laharl (Disgaea: Hour of Darkness) 3. Etna (Disgaea: Hour of Darkness) 4. Vice (Tactics Ogre: Let Us Cling Together) 5. Prier (La Pucelle Tactics) All of whom are brilliant SRPG characters. Plus Etna, who is just the cutest Lolicon Devil-Girl I've ever seen.

Just because I don't want people doubting my awesomely multi-talented nature, here's some line-art, done in pencil. Errrr... they are big. Sorry.

+={Deep Dive; Part One}=+ Further down than sunlight glances, in a sea of last romances, Further still than moonlight glows, This is where the Deep Dive goes Stuttered light in hidden places, Fear of loss for broken races, Worlds that die without first notice, Words that die, leave only lotus A glint of light from storied words, a myth apart from time, Here below the still light glow, Waits the words of Rhyme. +={Deep Dive; Part Two}=+ A broken piece of scattered minds, in silence I regret, A thousand things I could have said, To make you not forget. In anger born, the silent gloom. A world of icy hate. A place too like the killing feilds, To come and seal your fate. Deep below the surface ripples, Where the waters grow too cold, A death unlike the saddest kind, A child grows too old.

-=-\What Dreams May Come/-=- Painted halls of hallowed bars, A refrain from the dark, A song sung once by silent Kings ...A spark lost in the thought. A blade of brilliant broken fire, A heart made pure by steel, A hero born in savior's ire ...a legend more than real. War, fought once and fought again, to tear a soul asunder, Conflict, then, give holy birth to ...dreams made live by wonder. I question yet in the empty dark, broken still by light, If once born the glowing spark, ... Needs must give up the fight? Or wonder I in face of sleep, Do we die alone? Do we cease to need? Lost amongst the rain-soaked shore Forever to dream, to sleep no more. Or question I in face of light, Is death forever? Will it end this night? Forever to rage in dreamless sleep, In silence shadows my soul to keep.

{{I play a text based RPG called Lusternia, and this is a scroll I submitted to the Paladins, as written by Vidarr, an Aslaran Paladin}} Humans have this romantic attitude towards the Aslaran. They see only the beauty of our coats, the subtle grace and power as we move. No, it is not beauty - beauty is far to warm a word. What they see in us is strength, nobility, pride. They see us as Lions, and they do not think to look past that. I sit here now, by the failing light of the fire. It will go out soon, undoubtedly, and I suppose I should be trying to raise it, but sunrise will come in an hour or so. There is no point. You know, she looks so very peaceful when she is sleeping. That gash in her arm is healing nicely, I think. I wish that, for once, I could sleep. I do not object to keeping watch, of course I would not, given the sheer density of creatures after our blood in these tainted lands. If I so much as shut my eye for ten seconds they?d be upon us. No, I just wish the pain would let up long enough for me to relax my muscles, to get a moment of peace and stillness before we start out again on the morrow. It is only fair I warn you, Pages and unblooded Squires alike, nothing they tell you can prepare you for what it is really like out here. It is all because of that damned romanticism again, that misty look that envelopes a man?s eyes when he thinks of wandering Paladins on a mighty quest. Those noble warriors battling evil with swords and magic, searching for justice, or truth, or, at the end of the day, anything to still the nagging doubt. Ah, yes, so noble are we. So exciting. Nobody ever bothers to tell you about the blood. I have lost so much of it over the past few months, in one way or the other, that it is a wonder I am yet alive. Not a day goes by where I don?t pick up some new wound, and beneath my fur I am beginning to look like something of a patchwork quilt of scar tissue. I do not think I will ever be able to pass for ?normal? again. My arms ache, more or less constantly. They do now. My swords are responsible, I know. They are balanced well enough, though I strongly suspect I have a habit of over-extending myself, meaning I have to strain my forearms horribly just to keep the damn things level, or to stop them from clattering to the ground in a fight. And of course, I can not stop wielding these blades. It?s my quest, isn?t it? I have a mission now, an evil alliance to destroy, and the shadowy figure behind it all, shrouded as he is in eldrich mystery, to be dealt with. To be honest, I can not even remember why I am doing this. It started with a case of petty theft and suddenly I was in it over my head, engulfed in a torrent of mysteries and criminals. But, then, who am I to argue with fate? So I go onwards, allowing myself to be carried away with the adventure, the struggle, the battle, and look where we?ve ended up now. In some stinking swamp, or bog, or whatever the hell it is with thick peat coating my fur, flaking and itching and dried into a solid coating that smells worse than those damned sewers in which I would once hunt rats. I know that if I scratch at it, I will only end up pulling the fur from my arms and legs ? I?ve done it before, we both have, and in time you learn to cope with it, I suppose. The armour gets painful after a time, as well. I do believe mine is starting to rust, and the money is running out. It weighs, it is far too much of a burden, and we generally just grab enough coins to keep us fed and watered. If I tell her that we are going to have to attempt to salvage my armor, then we will have to go hungry for a time, and I will not allow her to suffer. Not that it?s likely we will be returning to New Celest in the near future, so there will be no shopping. We will scavenge, as we usually do. I miss the city; I miss the Paladin's Hall, hell, I even miss the damned Gnome tunnels. It is the air, I think; it is so moist and hot and sticky that it gets into our armor. I feel like it?s gotten into my very bones. It is nights like this that I want to curse everyone who ever spoke to me of 'destiny' . Everyone who contributed to my growing obsession with the life of the wanderer, with the search for money and powerful foes. With battling the Taint and being adored by townsfolk the planes over. With shining breastplates and heroes? welcomes. And I do curse them, frequently, in a non-stop string of words - some that make sense, most that do not. But I need things to fill the silence, to take my mind from the pain and the blood. Oh, the blood! It is a hundred times again worse than the peat and the mud and the dirt. Be it mine, be it hers, be it even the blood of a rat or a pitiful Fink, I cannot bear it. The battles themselves are frantic, and exhausting, and they never seem to stop. We run on our adrenaline and our fear ? yes, even I, proud Aslaran I may be, am still afraid of whoever or whatever assails us, because, as I say, I am only human. More, or less. We are there for each other, though, and I know I would never be able to cope on my own. We watch each other?s backs, we see to it that we both pull through. That it?s the enemy who falls into a bloody, crumpled heap, and not us. It is funny. Everyone says the Viscanti are evil, that they are the purest darkness to come of the taint. But when we climbed that mountain, she went blue, she sneezed and coughed and sniveled, much as the humans we were to gaurd. Her nose was red and raw, if I remember correctly. So, perhaps she?s not as different as they say. I care not in either instance. She is my comrade, my companion, and the best friend I have ever known. She has saved my life countless times; she has grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and hauled me backwards just in time to prevent an enemies' blade finding purchase in my hide. Sometimes the magic of the Holy Light makes her faint. It is frightening, to see it happen. The blood just drains from her face in a instant, and she is white as snow, murmuring incomprehensible things, and finally collapsing to the ground. Sometimes she doesn?t come round again for days. But she insists that we carry on, I suppose we both do. We can not quit, we have to use all our strength; she has to cope with the scowls and the dirty looks, and the fainting and the prejudices, and I have to struggle with my armor and sword and my... my faith. But to everyone else she is the epitome of everything touched by Taint ? she is beautiful and swift and dark, and frosty, and cunning and difficult to understand ? and I think that I am the only one who truly knows her. The others remain wary of her, perhaps even distrustful. She does not seem to mind, as she has little difficulty speaking to them whenever we meet. They all think she is beneath them, do they not? They place her down on some distant pedestal. Evil. An incarnation of darkness. It is hard to believe it is the same person, sometimes? Ah, but she is only human. In a purely metaphorical manner, of course. When we get back to New Celest I want to go to the Hall and actually eat a proper meal, sit at the bar and drink some ale, laugh and exchange jokes with whoever happens by. I want to get staggeringly drunk and stumble to my room afterwards, singing and cursing and smiling. I want to quietly enjoy my pipe in the silence of an empty forge. I want to go for long walks with my friends, I want to know if they have earned their promotions, if they have changed since last we met. I want to be prideful and notorious, want to be able to sleep until noon, want to go for a day without hurting. I want to be happy. I want her to be happy. I want to see her face without the hood, want to see her smooth features and delicate smile. But, then, this is my life. We are Paladins, and we fight, and we sweat, and we bleed. And this may not be what I want, but it is all that I have got. And yes, it will do. It is hardly ideal, and certainly not the fantasy. Nor is it dashing or noble or terribly honorable. It is life and death, and it is pain and torment but by the fates, it is also euphoria and adrenaline and pride, it is companionship and the closest of friendships and these bonds tie thicker than blood. And fates willing it will last forever. This is more than simply my job. It is in my blood. It is as simple as picking up my swords and putting one foot in front of the other. And I will do it, and I will smile through the blood and the dirt. When she wakes up, we will go onward. And someday, we will find a cure for the Taint, and I will purify my friend, and the Tainted Lands, and, fates willing, this god-forsaken swamp. But until then, we will scour the basin, search the furthest planes, battle the Taint and the Tainted, and find this mysterious schemer. We will fight on as Paladins, as defenders of the light, as champions of justice, and as guardians of the shining bastion that is New Celest. And I will do it not because I am a Paladin, and not because I love her, but because I am Vidarr of New Celest - and because, when all is said and done, maybe I am a Lion.

Okay, so I've seen roughly six gazillion requests for this system, but I was wondering if anyone either had it or could direct my toward someone who does; or, conversely, would like to work with me to make one. I know, I know. How terribly predictable. And just to clarify I'm referring to the system from Ogre Battle Tactics; not, let's say, Fire Emblem.

I apologize to everyone, (which more or less means Tassadar), because this project is inactive. Sorry.

If you don't remember me, I am terribly remiss. If you do remember me, then prepare to get warm fuzzy feelings all through your body. After a thousand year hiatus, I have returned to bless you all with the light of my glorious Sarcasm and seventy-five cent lighter. Behold the beauty of my razor wit and tremble, ye sacrilegious dogs! ::Cough:: Sorry. I've been living off M&Ms and Full Throttle for three days now. Seriously, I've been working on the brilliance that is my new novel, as well as moving all my belongings cross-country with only the help of two aging surfers and a short, fat Italian guy. No joke either. I mean it. Like Danny Devito with more chest hair. Ah, yes. Good old unca Tony. Well, to make a long story short, I'm back in black and twice as goofy looking. So, if anyone needs a writer or world designer, I'm your boy-man-pig creature with retractable wings and a horrible overbite. ...Wait, what? -Jimmy

I haven't been here in a millennium or three, but welcome regardless.

Quick and easy 1. Akira Kurasawa's Seven Samurai 2. Ninja Wars 3. Shogun's Ninja 4. Shogun's Samurai 5. Street Fighter (The Sonny Chiba kung-fu film, not the video game movie) 6. Yojimbo 7. The Crow 8. What Dreams May Come 9. Braveheart 10. Big Fish And amazingly, not a single anime amongst them.

My computer began smoking at 6:30 Friday afternoon, and when I popped it open and cleared away the acrid cloud, my motherboard had melted to my fan. Why, I don't know. I hadn't even thought it would be possible. But, there you go. A new surprise every day. I'm gonna be gone for awhile, I think. Until I can replace my computer, anyway. I might be able to get on during the weekends, but that's it. I'm only on now because my brother went to bed and I'm using his machine. This won't stop me from visiting the site whenever I can. It just stops me working. And thank god I've got back-up copies of my actual writings. Otherwise, I'd be screwed. Well, Peace be with you, my friends. :P And... with the rest of you too.