Jambo6c

Ah ok I see your point about the activity and posts categories :P Ill try and think of more categories, but I still support my 'epic contributor' category :D

So last summer, me n my mate Joe jetted off to Moscow for a week. It was an amazing holiday, but the one thing it lacked was nightlife. I mean don't get me wrong, there WAS nightlife, but it consisted off being most likely mugged if found in the street past 7 or 8 at night. So that sucked. Well this summer we were planning on going to Tokyo, which has great nightlife within the Roppongi district. One more problem - Tokyo just about stretches past our financial constraints as 2 pre-undergraduate students funding our own holiday lol Anyway, we've decided upon Beijing now which is feasable. Well I was lookin around and the only nightlife area I spotted was the Sanlitun Pub Street and the surrounding Embassy Area in the Chaoyang District. So I'm just wondering if anyone has been here or knows about this area - is it any good etc? Any input is welcome :P

Second best - long live Pizza Hut! ;) ...we're doing coffees n chocolates as well now! ...except they actually taste amazing because we have a brand-spanking new Costa coffee machine! Funny thing is there's also a Costas literally 10 yards from the store, so it seems a little wierd to say the least!

Yeah, I only meant for if he had a few of them - I hadn't noticed that button either :D To each his own :P

/* This is a story I started writing about 2 years ago now. I only got about midway through chapter 3 when the HDD on my then-laptop crashed. Luckily I'd uploaded the first 2 chapters to Bebo (of all places) before the crash, so I thought (after remembering I had this and somehow getting it from Bebo despite not being on it any more) I'd post it up here and give you guys a look. See what you think :) CHAPTER ONE - A New Dawn Michael’s eyes flickered. They had been closed for a long while and needed to adjust to the light before they could work as they once did. Finally, after a minute or so of adjustment, Michael opened his eyes, the olive green inside focusing on what lay in front of him. It was still as he’d remembered it, but it didn’t have the same feel he’d once experienced. It seemed…different, somehow. If he had awoken in the same place he’d entered sleep in, then that would mean they hadn’t found him. This took a minute to sink in, but when it did, Michael breathed a sigh of absolute relief. ‘Wait a minute,’ he thought to himself, ‘they haven’t found me – is that good or bad?’ He wondered about whether them not finding him, meant they had no use for him – this would mean the unthinkable had happened. Michael’s mind quickened his flow of thoughts, almost to the point he couldn’t keep up. He stepped out into the room that lay in front of him. ‘UN Army C.L #001’ was branded on the wall in big, block letters. Michael leaned round the cylindrical space he had found himself in. His face brightened – all his equipment was still there, making him certain he’d not been found. On instinct, even though he was pretty sure no one was watching, he looked side to side swiftly, before grabbing his Z7 Pistol, and Kushka rifle. Cocking it as he remembered all too well, he felt a burst of adrenaline shoot through him. That old feeling he thought he had lost had now returned. Clicking his neck to each side, as so many people had done before him, he took a deep breath, and headed for the ladder. At the top of the ladder, Michael moved to his right, getting into a fairly small space. He grunted as he attempted to turn the wheel on the hatch in front of him that had now rusted, and had obviously become stiff from not being moved in a while. Eventually, Michael’s strength got the better of the stubborn wheel, and he was able to turn it. Once he knew he had turned it as far as he needed, Michael took great care to open the hatch slowly, using only one hand – the other was readily on his Z7, with his Kushka slung over his shoulder in a certain way, making it easily accessible, minimizing delay for any required weapon-changes. The sound of falling water immediately hit him, much as he’d hoped, and he peered through the slit of a gap he’d created by opening the hatch slightly. He wasn’t bothered by the stench that being in a sewer forced upon him – his attention span was one of the best around – when he last checked, anyway. Michael’s eyes looked out; always at the point just inside the door he was slowly opening, to check the entirety of his surroundings. As he finished opening the hatch door, he was sure that the area was safe. He turned to face the room he was leaving, and shuffled back until he was hanging from the opening he’d come from by his free hand. Swinging the hand containing his Z7 round, he shoved the door to shut it, removing his hand from the entrance, sliding down the curved wall, and silently into the shallow water. Concentrating on thinking about anything but what he was wading softly through, he reached the other side of the flowing water, to the side of a walkway. He hoisted himself up onto it, turned sideways, and rolled quietly under the railing. Quickly deciding his route, the way he’d come in so long ago, he edged along the curved wall, until he reached the corner. Next to him, on his right, a pipe lead directly upwards, telling him two important facts; 1) remembering this pipe meant he was heading in the right direction, and 2) he was directly below part of what was, or what used to be – he couldn’t be sure, home. Voices. Michael’s heartbeat quickened, and he slid in the small gap the pipe left in the alcove beside him. Switching his Z7 to his right hand, and swinging his Kushka round to access with his left, he held both ready for use in case he was about to see what he’d been dreading ever since he woke up. The voices got louder, and obviously closer, eventually getting loud enough to tell Michael he was moments away from either shouting for joy, or having to come to terms with the worst scenario. His mind’s eye told him what he was watching for, and as the moments passed between just loud voices and a visual on their sources, Michael formulated a 2 second plan in his mind. “Well how did you know?” “Ah, I just knew – I’ve got a knack for that kind of thing.” Two figures walked by, dressed in suits. Suits? Michael reserved judgement for now, but remained cautious. The voices faded away, so Michael, re-arranging his weapons as they were before, slid out of the shadows and edged to a corner in the path about 10 yards in front of him. He crouched down to peer round the corner at the innermost part of the curved wall. Exactly as he remembered - a small flight of stairs leading to a secret door in his wine cellar. He smiled slightly – if there was to be any consolation from what may be to come, it was that he could have a drink. Michael shot his head round to look behind him – no one coming. He stood up, checked the magazine in his Z7 was loaded, and swivelled round the corner, heading for the door. He moved slowly, but with confidence, counting the steps between himself and his door. Climbing the steps, his anticipation rose as he longed to be back home, before it all started. He reached for the door, but before his hand grabbed the handle, he heard the familiar click of the door opening, and he darted behind it. Another man walked out of the door and down the steps. He was an African American, well-built and about six feet tall. Michael’s olive green eyes widened, and he stood in shock for a moment. The man had let the door shut behind him, so no one had followed him – no danger. Michael recognised the man immediately, and although he knew who it was, he couldn’t believe it. “Ryan!?” END OF CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 - The Union A twenty-year old Michael Turner kicked the ball back to his mate, “You’ll have to do better than that buddy,” he chuckled, banging his goalie gloves together in a playful yet provocative way. “Yeah? Well you’ll be laughin’ on the other side of your face after this one,” the eighteen-year old Ryan Naismith called back in the same manner. He rolled the ball to a predetermined position with his foot, and stopped it in the same way. Ryan took a few steps back from the ball, before running back towards it, and striking it with the front of the inside of his right foot. The ball flew upwards, to Michael’s left. Michael leapt towards the ball like a Cheetah pouncing on its prey. His fingertips touched the leathery surface of the ball, but nothing more, pushing the ball only slightly off-course. Ryan cheered as the ball hit its target – as close to the goal post as it could go without hitting it. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and screamed out a muffled “Goooaaalll Lazio!” Michael sighed, spitting loose grass out of his mouth, before calling up to the ecstatic Ryan, “We’d better get back to base” The present, 40-year old Ryan scratched his head. He jumped up out of his armchair and paced the well-decorated apartment. “Michael,” he repeated, “Michael Turner. How long has it been man?” He grinned, thrilled to see his best friend standing in front of him once again. “Well, it’s gotta be…twenty years for you.” Michael replied, still slightly surprised himself. “Yeah,” Ryan agreed, “and not more than a day for you, huh?” he asked, chuckling. “That’s right,” confirmed Michael. His smile faded only slightly before asking the next question. “So..so what happened?” he asked, deeply intrigued, and desperate to get the answer. “Well-” Ryan began, but was interrupted by three loud bangs on the front door, preceding a shout of “Union Officials, open this door immediately.” Ryan sighed, turning to the door. He walked over and opened it, to reveal two men in typical ‘Official’ black suits. The two men held up badges before walking past Ryan, who stood aside willingly, and towards Michael. Michael immediately noticed something wasn’t right with these men; he’d never heard of any ‘Union’, and the fact that they were wearing what looked like wireless earpieces just increased his suspicions. “Michael Turner, I am U.O. Smith, and this is U.O. Jones, would you come with us please?” The shorter, black haired man said in a flat, unfeeling tone. “Wow, Smith and Jones, great imagination,” Michael replied sarcastically, shooting a glance at the taller, blonde haired Jones. “We’re not here to play games, Michael, if you do not comply we will be forced to take further, less polite action” Michael narrowed his eyes at the man stood in front of him. It was obvious to Michael that he was serious. However, Michael wasn’t prepared to go anywhere until he got the answer to the question he need to ask, that he had asked but hadn’t received the answer to. Click. Michael had drawn and cocked his Z7, and had it pointed directly at Smith’s chest. “Oh, I’m not complying,” he replied, smirking. However Michael’s smirk quickly faded when Smith grabbed the barrel of his gun and bent it away from him. “Very well,” Smith said, in an authoritative voice, “Jones, Mr Turner is coming along the hard way.” Suddenly, a big hand from Jones caught the astounded Michael’s neck, and everything went black. When Michael eventually came to, the first thing that hit him was his head throbbing uncontrollably. He tried to bring his arm up to touch it, but he discovered he was unable to move it, along with his other arm, and his legs. He had been immobilised, and on opening his eyes he could see why – clamps. Michael was suddenly alerted by an unfamiliar voice; “Hello Michael, nice of you to finally join us” “Wha-wh-” Michael tried to speak, but found his speech a bit slurred. “Oh don’t worry about that,” the voice said, which Michael could now tell was sounding from behind him, “the effects will wear off soon – just a slight step up from what you’d call…a sedative.” Michael took in his new surroundings – he was clamped to a chair, in an office; with a tinted window leading out to a blue sky, an oak desk topped with posh stationary, and branded with a sign that was new to Michael. He studied this sign for a moment – a red circle with what looked like Earth in the middle, but the Earth-shaped symbol had thick blue lines striking across it, as if a ribbon were wrapped around a circular present. Continuing his scan of the room, Michael, who could only move his eyes for whatever this man had done to him, looked to the right. He saw, from an unclear angle, a painted portrait of a man – clearly someone high up in this ‘Union’. To his left, Michael caught a glimpse of the only familiar thing in the room – a bottle of scotch. He smiled to himself, before a tall figure in a pinstripe suit walked past him on his left, and sat at the large, brown chair behind the desk. The man, who Michael could now see was in his fifties and was bald with small, square glasses on his head sat back in his chair, crossed his legs and linked his fingers together on his lap. “We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Michael,” the man said, in a slightly irritated voice. “In fact, and I don’t give out praise like some sort of candy, I’d say you hid yourself pretty well that day. You know which day I mean Michael,” the man added, noting a sense of questioning in Michael’s eyes upon the term ‘that day’. “Now that you’re here, however, I really couldn’t care less where you went,” added the man, smirking. He paused for a moment, and Michael took this moment to focus on regaining the control of his bodily functions – primarily his speech. In what seemed like an impulsive move, the man rose from his chair, and strode over to the scotch. Pouring himself a glass, the man said, “I would offer you a glass, Michael, but I don’t think it’s wise – not in your state.” Smirking again, the man returned to his chair, and took a sip of the scotch, eyeballing Michael from behind his desk. “So, how did you do it?” the man asked rhetorically. “Well you’re still looking a sprightly young man,” the man continued, “of no more than about….twenty, I’d say,” he said, maintaining his smirk. ‘This man must know,’ Michael thought to himself, it was obvious, ‘but how?’ Before Michael had time to even think about an answer to this question, the man spoke again. “Oh yes,” said the man, as if knowing exactly what Michael had been thinking, “I knew from the moment I saw you that it was you, and I immediately figured out how you’d done it – how you’d hidden away, ‘beneath the radar’ if you will. I’ll admit, it did come as a shock that you’d managed to evade us all this time,” he scoffed, “hell I even thought you were dead!” The man took another small drink of scotch before continuing. “But when you think about it, it’s a bit of a shortcut to just freeze yourself,” the man angrily added. This was it – after all the trouble they’d gone to trying to stop Michael from being found – it was over, and Michael couldn’t believe it. “Underground. That was the shortcut.” Michael replied, his speech now only partially slurred. The man’s eyes widened. The brown inside them, which perfectly matched the dark oak of the desk, was now clearly visible. His smirk had gone, and was replaced by a stern face, seemingly trying to stare a hole in Michael’s own eyes. Just as quickly as the man had lost his smirk, he’d regained it again. “You just have no idea, do you?” he chuckled. He continued chuckling for a few seconds, before the chuckle developed into a hearty laugh. “Oh dear, oh dear,” the man laughed, “The great Michael Turner really doesn’t get it!” he exclaimed. The man smiled mockingly, shaking his head in what he pretended was a disappointed way. “Castro!” he called in a light voice, clearly still laughing inside, “Take him back to Ryan Naismith’s.” He swung round on his chair, easily ignoring Michael’s slurred shouts of objection. A tall man with brown hair and a tiny arrowhead of a beard approached. The clamps around Michael’s arms and legs loosened, but as Michael fell the approaching man, who was obviously known as ‘Castro’, caught him. Turning Michael around, and putting one hand under each of his shoulders, Castro hoisted Michael up onto his right shoulder. Michael’s view was turned upside down, making it harder for him to make out the offices that surrounded him. He noticed that the one he’d just been in was at the end of a long corridor. Office doors lined the walls leading towards the other end. Similarly like the room he’d just been in, all the windows, as far as the eye could see, were tinted in such a way that people on the outside were unable to look in. Michael caught a glimpse of light shining on the navy blue carpet a few yards along. As they approached where the beam met the corridor, a lift door in front of them opened, and Michael could only see out to where the light was coming from for a second, before they entered the lift, which offered even less light than the corridor. In the space of just a few seconds, Michael’s mind played the image he’d seen over and over. A big, ‘mall-like’ room, which on further thought, Michael realised was too big to be a room, and was more like a plaza. A white walkway linked something Michael couldn’t see on the left, to the same on the right. A similar white desk lay closest to the corridor, on the left of the opening into the plaza. Suddenly Michael felt something solid hit his right side. He soon realised it had been the floor, and Castro was now crouching over him. The tall man forced a capsule of some sort down Michael’s throat, which he was unable to resist due to his arms and legs still being rendered useless by the last thing he’d been given. “You’ll be back quicker than you know it,” Castro’s voice echoed patronisingly. The echoes became more distorted by the moment, and the colours of the lift’s interior gained fuzz from Michael’s view, before blending into one, black mass of darkness. END OF CHAPTER 2

Trouble is with these categories is that Most active & posts are sort of the same thing really. Other than that I'm right behind the idea!!! Maybe add in a 'special contribution' award - one that maybe isn't awarded each month but is given to someone who contributes something epic.

Why the hell didn't I think of that!? *rolls eyes* lol Well here it is then! (Finally!) The first animation of many! Animations.zip

Ok, I'll have a look. However I've been having problems uploading the RMXP data files for animations for the Unlimited Resource Pack, so I can't guarantee the animations I make will be uploaded any day soon <_< I'll certainly make some though so that when I can get the files up they're ready to go!

For me, when I clicked 'Add File' to finalise the upload (after adding information, version, etc.) I was redirected to the forum homepage (www.rmxpunlimited.net/forums/index.php?) And when I went back to the downloads section it's as if I've never been there - no record of my file or any post by me. (Obviously except the small text file one now lol)

I believe this is the right file - it should have only 1 animation in it so far called 'Aries Ember' or something along those lines EDIT - Second look - no file. Tried again, got "Upload failed, you cannot upload this type of file". Should i compress the file, remove all unnecessary game data and upload the exe?

Trouble is it's a game data file, not an image :s

I've been trying to upload my current project, but it failed. I uploaded a small text file like Marked suggested - what now? :)

Yeah I saw that before but I can't add files to a PM ... or don't know how. I've checked again but can't see anything!

@ Leon That is one insanely-awesome script and thanks for giving me one of your secret scripts, but I'm after one I can adjust myself at certain points. Still looks awesome though! @ Polraudio Ahhhh, I think I gotcha now!!! Ruling out any edits to this post in the next couple days thanks for all the input guys!

I have a little one I made as part of my current project, so I can upload that as a starter for my animation set. Are you going to create an 'Ultimate Resources Pack' category in the file upload area or shall I just stick it in the appropriate section for now?

Thanks Emily! Anything you want me to work on now? i.e. Getting to know the original story? lol

Idea - Does the Animations RMXP data file contain the actual animations or just their tilesets? Because if it contains the actual animations I can send you that file once I've made them and that might be easier for both of us! :D

Here's an idea too - If there's not many of the monsters you want respawning, create a switch for each. Each switch should be set to ON at the beginning. Then, each time an event transfers a player to that map, add a "Control Switches" event (page 2, top button on the right hand side) which switches those switches on. Next, each time a player battles a monster, turn that monster's switch off (using the same switches event after the Battle Processing). This is a fairly fiddly way to do things though, and may take forever if you have loads of re-spawning monsters

I think animations would be a good idea and I can do some if you need. Just need to know how to export the custom-made animations from the game! :P

That's almost exactly what I was after!!! One thing though - in the instructions it's telling me I need to configure some values and do some scripting in 'Game_DDNS' and 'Bitmap' etc. but I can't find these categories in the Script Editor. Little help? :D:D:D Thanks

I can do some side-quest plotting, animations (designed in the RMXP program I'm guessing?) and voice acting (I'm good with accents :P). So anything you need in those departments, let me know! :D p.s. Someone needs to get me up to speed with battle-system acronyms btw lol

Ok, I've solved it. What it was is as follows: I had a common event running called 'Seth/Aries'. Long story short this event replaces the main character Seth with his counterpart Aries. Trouble is when I'd defined the 'add party member' event in each case, I'd left the 'initialize' box ticked. So the weapons Seth had were removed. Hence his ATK was always at 0 entering the battle, thereby doing no damage. Sorry to have wasted your time polraudio, but thankyou so much for your time!!!

Hi everbody! I need a script that will change the screen tone (or something else that will work in the same way) so that I can display daytime, dusk, nighttime, dawn, then this repeats. Either triggered by the time or at points in the game where I can just put in an event to change it to a chosen time of day (or night) - the latter would be preferrable...and possibly easier... Anyway, thanks in advance! James

Errrrrrr ... not quite sure ... the regular one? lol - sorry not so experienced with the various systems etc. If it helps the battle was called up by an 'Event Touch' event as follows: @>Text: Wood Wolf: Hoooooowl @>Set Move Route:[Wood Wolf Ambush] : : $>Move Down : : $>Move Down : : $>Move Down : : $>Move Down @>Wait for Move's Completion @>Battle Processing: Wood Wolf @Control Switches: [0010: Ambush] = OFF @> I never set any special battle system so I'm guessing the one that is set at startup. How do you change battle systems btw? Cause then I can probably tell you what it's set to now. EDIT - Oh yeah and I just tried the battle using the skill Cross Cut, and that did damage. This makes me think it's something to do with Seth's STR or ATK or something since skills seem to work. Thing is I don't see what! EDIT 2 - Also tried changing the enemy and the same thing happened - except that due to the ghost's higher stats cross cut did 0 and the ghost did 322 to Seth