http://alex.zulenka.com/ Mon, 15 Jun 2026 11:59:58 +0000 MyBB http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37383 Sat, 06 Jan 2007 21:24:59 +0000 Raspberry]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37383
As the orange clothed boy was running around the city he was thinking that maybe the city got evacuated because of some reason.

?But why not my family... Because we are poor?? Kenneth thought for himself.

The child was running to the mall and to the post office and a lot people were found...Working. But there were no children he was thinking that they might be playing in the mountains or something similar, he ran to the top of a mountain looking for the other kids. No kids was seen, when he tried to come down he fell from the mountain all the way down on the ground. Kenny was looking around with a bloody face and with his clothes broken from some places.

He felt really dizzy and sick, he thought he should go home to rest. His parents were fighting again which is why he did not want to be there, Kenny walked with a bored face towards the school where he saw some light.

?Isn?t it the weekend...!?? He mumbled out loud.

He ran into the school searching for his classroom, what class did they have today? Suddenly he heard a swear word coming for one of the classrooms, he ran into the room and looked at the time.

?Oh for fucks sake! 10.30 already...? He shouted really loud.

?Kenneth McCormick! You are going to the principals office now!? Said the teacher.

Suddenly a fat kid from his class started laughing and pointing at Kenny. But Kenny ignored him and walked to the principals office.

?This just isn?t my day...?


(OOC: First post as Kenny ^^ It was hard to come up with anything. I watched like 30 South Park episodes for this. >.> )]]>
As the orange clothed boy was running around the city he was thinking that maybe the city got evacuated because of some reason.

?But why not my family... Because we are poor?? Kenneth thought for himself.

The child was running to the mall and to the post office and a lot people were found...Working. But there were no children he was thinking that they might be playing in the mountains or something similar, he ran to the top of a mountain looking for the other kids. No kids was seen, when he tried to come down he fell from the mountain all the way down on the ground. Kenny was looking around with a bloody face and with his clothes broken from some places.

He felt really dizzy and sick, he thought he should go home to rest. His parents were fighting again which is why he did not want to be there, Kenny walked with a bored face towards the school where he saw some light.

?Isn?t it the weekend...!?? He mumbled out loud.

He ran into the school searching for his classroom, what class did they have today? Suddenly he heard a swear word coming for one of the classrooms, he ran into the room and looked at the time.

?Oh for fucks sake! 10.30 already...? He shouted really loud.

?Kenneth McCormick! You are going to the principals office now!? Said the teacher.

Suddenly a fat kid from his class started laughing and pointing at Kenny. But Kenny ignored him and walked to the principals office.

?This just isn?t my day...?


(OOC: First post as Kenny ^^ It was hard to come up with anything. I watched like 30 South Park episodes for this. >.> )]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37229 Tue, 02 Jan 2007 21:43:21 +0000 Bujin]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37229
He could talk normally.

For some reason, others of his species and kind could only utter their species name, and nothing else. This sounded confusing to the plant pokemon, and equally as stupid. How they could convey any sort of thought to humans was beyond him. It wasn?t any wonder that humans made sport of catching and enslaving them. As opinionative as Bulbasaur was, he couldn?t help be influenced by the constant ramblings of Professor Red, who had just walked into the laboratory to check up on things.

?Good morning, Bulbasaur,? the cheery professor greeted, opening some sort of laptop as he sat down next to the metal bed that the pokemon was sitting on, ?I trust you had a good rest.?

?Sleeping on this? Yeah, right. This bed is harder than you peeking in on Nurse Joy.? Bulbasaur answered bitterly, the sarcastic nature of his comment making him smile.

?As insubordinate as always,? Red sighed, typing up some lame report on his computer, ?Makes me wonder why I created you.?

?Beats me, Doc,? Bulbasaur replied, and would have shrugged his shoulders if he had any, ?If you don?t like it, then why don?t you just ship me off??

?Oh, I am,? the professor said simply, not even giving the pokemon the courtesy of looking at him, ?It?s a wonder why I didn?t opt to do this sooner. You?ve been nothing but a pain to me since the day of your birth.?

Bulbasaur blinked, and merely stared at his creator. After all this time, the only thing that Red could say was how much of a nuisance he had been. How ungrateful! How shallow! Only thoughts of hurt and revenge were crossing the poor plant pokemon?s mind. Leaping forward, he tackled the professor, hitting his skull with his forehead. Bulbasaur heard a crack, but didn?t know what it was. All he knew was that Red was unconscious and bleeding. Panicking, he ran away and out of the building, trying to escape the crime he had just committed.

Bulbasaur ran as hard as he could. This was the first time that he was able to move freely in his short life, and despite the extreme terror that he was feeling at the moment, he felt great. It was nice to be able to stretch his small legs for a change, and not worry about the next experiment that was going to be performed on him. In fact, he didn?t have to worry about anything ever again. His life was his own, regardless of how he was created. The only question was how he would live it.

Or what he would do.

Stopping to think about it, the plant pokemon had no idea what normal pokemon did. The only part of pokemon life that he knew about was the training aspect. He knew that humans captured them for their own personal use, and pitted them against other pokemon. In addition to that, he knew that they bred them against their wills. Some sick freaks even tried to cross species, which usually turned out bad. He knew he didn?t want to do either of those things, but being a wild pokemon didn?t seem appealing to him either. He needed to figure out what humans did with their time.

?Hey, there?s a Bulbasaur!? a voice sounded from behind him, ?Haha, let?s catch it!?

Turning around, Bulbasaur spotted two small children, hopping around in extreme and overblown excitement. They both seemed too young to even be able to carry a pokeball, much less throw one. They didn?t even seem to have a pokemon with them. They must have been just daydreaming and playing around, like human kids tended to do.

What do I do? I can?t let them see that I?m any different from a normal pokemon. I guess I?ll just humor them. Bulbasaur thought, taking a step closer to them. The kids gave a wide smile.

?I want to hear it talk!? one of them shouted, poking him with a stick.

Son of a?are you joking me? He thought, suddenly growing more annoyed.

?Bulba-freaking-saur,? he said, hoping that was enough to get them to leave him alone. The kids looked at each other with blank stares, and eventually shrugged and kept poking him. After a few prolonged moments, one of the kids stopped and pulled a circular red and white object from his pocket.

Well?might as well let him try.

The kid threw his arm back dramatically, grunting like an idiot. He must have seen this action on a televised gym match and tried to copy it. Noticing this, Bulbasaur lowered his head and awaited the ball to capture him. The kid threw the ball as hard as he could, and his aim was perfect. The ball hit the plant pokemon right on the head. However, nothing happened. It just hit his head, and bounced off.

?Son of a bitch!? Bulbasaur screamed, wincing in pain, ?You little faggot! That was just a painted rock!?

Both looks of glee quickly turned into faces filled with terror. Screaming incoherently for their mothers, they started to run away. Bulbasaur thought about chasing after them, but quickly gave up. It was at that moment when he figured out that human children are retarded.]]>
He could talk normally.

For some reason, others of his species and kind could only utter their species name, and nothing else. This sounded confusing to the plant pokemon, and equally as stupid. How they could convey any sort of thought to humans was beyond him. It wasn?t any wonder that humans made sport of catching and enslaving them. As opinionative as Bulbasaur was, he couldn?t help be influenced by the constant ramblings of Professor Red, who had just walked into the laboratory to check up on things.

?Good morning, Bulbasaur,? the cheery professor greeted, opening some sort of laptop as he sat down next to the metal bed that the pokemon was sitting on, ?I trust you had a good rest.?

?Sleeping on this? Yeah, right. This bed is harder than you peeking in on Nurse Joy.? Bulbasaur answered bitterly, the sarcastic nature of his comment making him smile.

?As insubordinate as always,? Red sighed, typing up some lame report on his computer, ?Makes me wonder why I created you.?

?Beats me, Doc,? Bulbasaur replied, and would have shrugged his shoulders if he had any, ?If you don?t like it, then why don?t you just ship me off??

?Oh, I am,? the professor said simply, not even giving the pokemon the courtesy of looking at him, ?It?s a wonder why I didn?t opt to do this sooner. You?ve been nothing but a pain to me since the day of your birth.?

Bulbasaur blinked, and merely stared at his creator. After all this time, the only thing that Red could say was how much of a nuisance he had been. How ungrateful! How shallow! Only thoughts of hurt and revenge were crossing the poor plant pokemon?s mind. Leaping forward, he tackled the professor, hitting his skull with his forehead. Bulbasaur heard a crack, but didn?t know what it was. All he knew was that Red was unconscious and bleeding. Panicking, he ran away and out of the building, trying to escape the crime he had just committed.

Bulbasaur ran as hard as he could. This was the first time that he was able to move freely in his short life, and despite the extreme terror that he was feeling at the moment, he felt great. It was nice to be able to stretch his small legs for a change, and not worry about the next experiment that was going to be performed on him. In fact, he didn?t have to worry about anything ever again. His life was his own, regardless of how he was created. The only question was how he would live it.

Or what he would do.

Stopping to think about it, the plant pokemon had no idea what normal pokemon did. The only part of pokemon life that he knew about was the training aspect. He knew that humans captured them for their own personal use, and pitted them against other pokemon. In addition to that, he knew that they bred them against their wills. Some sick freaks even tried to cross species, which usually turned out bad. He knew he didn?t want to do either of those things, but being a wild pokemon didn?t seem appealing to him either. He needed to figure out what humans did with their time.

?Hey, there?s a Bulbasaur!? a voice sounded from behind him, ?Haha, let?s catch it!?

Turning around, Bulbasaur spotted two small children, hopping around in extreme and overblown excitement. They both seemed too young to even be able to carry a pokeball, much less throw one. They didn?t even seem to have a pokemon with them. They must have been just daydreaming and playing around, like human kids tended to do.

What do I do? I can?t let them see that I?m any different from a normal pokemon. I guess I?ll just humor them. Bulbasaur thought, taking a step closer to them. The kids gave a wide smile.

?I want to hear it talk!? one of them shouted, poking him with a stick.

Son of a?are you joking me? He thought, suddenly growing more annoyed.

?Bulba-freaking-saur,? he said, hoping that was enough to get them to leave him alone. The kids looked at each other with blank stares, and eventually shrugged and kept poking him. After a few prolonged moments, one of the kids stopped and pulled a circular red and white object from his pocket.

Well?might as well let him try.

The kid threw his arm back dramatically, grunting like an idiot. He must have seen this action on a televised gym match and tried to copy it. Noticing this, Bulbasaur lowered his head and awaited the ball to capture him. The kid threw the ball as hard as he could, and his aim was perfect. The ball hit the plant pokemon right on the head. However, nothing happened. It just hit his head, and bounced off.

?Son of a bitch!? Bulbasaur screamed, wincing in pain, ?You little faggot! That was just a painted rock!?

Both looks of glee quickly turned into faces filled with terror. Screaming incoherently for their mothers, they started to run away. Bulbasaur thought about chasing after them, but quickly gave up. It was at that moment when he figured out that human children are retarded.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37216 Tue, 02 Jan 2007 07:55:50 +0000 Uno]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37216
?Well...from what I know, the Captain likes the color red, so he picks anyone with red on to go on suicide missions.?

?Oh...Well...I really wish somebody would have told me that before I picked this uniform.?

?Don?t worry, I don?t think it?ll take long to switch your uni-? Suddenly, Captain Kirk enters the room, running into the room. Uhura quickly presses a button on her collar, changing the color of her suit to yellow, instead of red. Kirk looks flustered, and cheers up when he sees the man in the red uniform.

?YOU! I?m going to send you to an unknown planet that we believe is inhabited by large, man-eating bugs bigger that most houses. I don?t want to give you any food, water, weapons, or anything in that matter, just incase it?s all poisonous to their habitat. Good luck.? He finished when he pressed a button on his collar, sending him to his death via teleporter. ?Hm...I thought you had a red uniform on...? pointing toward Uhura.

?No...no I don?t, see??

?Hm...but be warned...I have my eyes on you.? He finished, walking out of the room. Uhura pressed the button on her collar again and her red uniform returned. She sighed, returning back to work.

Peter saw that the episode was over, and quickly thought about grabbing the remote before anyone else could grab it. The time was 3:30, and it was time for one of his favorite reruns to air, Good Times. He quickly struck out his arm to pick up the remote, but his best friend Brian had intercepted him and was heading for it as well. Lois was reaching around as well, and Chris was heading there as well. Finally, Meg and the rest of the family all had their hands on the remote. They all glared at each other, all wanting to watch their own programs that aired at 3:30.

The ultimate battle was before them, who would win?]]>
?Well...from what I know, the Captain likes the color red, so he picks anyone with red on to go on suicide missions.?

?Oh...Well...I really wish somebody would have told me that before I picked this uniform.?

?Don?t worry, I don?t think it?ll take long to switch your uni-? Suddenly, Captain Kirk enters the room, running into the room. Uhura quickly presses a button on her collar, changing the color of her suit to yellow, instead of red. Kirk looks flustered, and cheers up when he sees the man in the red uniform.

?YOU! I?m going to send you to an unknown planet that we believe is inhabited by large, man-eating bugs bigger that most houses. I don?t want to give you any food, water, weapons, or anything in that matter, just incase it?s all poisonous to their habitat. Good luck.? He finished when he pressed a button on his collar, sending him to his death via teleporter. ?Hm...I thought you had a red uniform on...? pointing toward Uhura.

?No...no I don?t, see??

?Hm...but be warned...I have my eyes on you.? He finished, walking out of the room. Uhura pressed the button on her collar again and her red uniform returned. She sighed, returning back to work.

Peter saw that the episode was over, and quickly thought about grabbing the remote before anyone else could grab it. The time was 3:30, and it was time for one of his favorite reruns to air, Good Times. He quickly struck out his arm to pick up the remote, but his best friend Brian had intercepted him and was heading for it as well. Lois was reaching around as well, and Chris was heading there as well. Finally, Meg and the rest of the family all had their hands on the remote. They all glared at each other, all wanting to watch their own programs that aired at 3:30.

The ultimate battle was before them, who would win?]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37146 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 15:57:07 +0000 Kirano]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37146 ?And our next news on CNN? After almost a decade of fighting crime, Powerpuff girl Buttercup has left the team.? A picture of the girl as a child appeared on a Sony wide screen TV. To be precise, it was the girl formally known as Buttercup, Naomi. ?The power puff girls, who were originally called the whoopass girls,?

?I still don?t know why Blossom was against the name. Bubbles, pretty much kissed Blossom?s ass, agreeing with everything she said. Me on the other hand was different. I was a law onto my self; this is why I had to go solo.? The teen continued to listen to the news concerning her. Next, the presenter played taped footage of the remaining two members. ?The remaining two members, leader Blossom, and Bubbles answered the question we all wanted to know, WHY?? said a young, female reporter.

?Buttercup just felt after so many years of saving the Earth as a team, that it was time to go solo,? spoke Blossom, to the woman?s CNN microphone.

?It was sad to see the end of the trio, but we had to respect her decision. We miss you, mwah? said Bubbles, blowing a kiss to the TV screen. ?We?ll always be friends, forever. We?ll definitely meet up soon.? Naomi stared into the girls sad eyes through the TV screen. ?Tch, same old emo Bubbles,? the girl snickered. ?The softy of the group. Blossom?miss know it all, I?m leader. Man?good times??

?We haven?t actually spoken to Buttercup,? said the channel presenter.

?IT?S NOT BUTTERCUP. That name is history,? yelled Naomi to the screen. Her face turned bright red, feeling humiliated by the calling of the name she formally used.

I can?t believe you girls still go by those names. I had to get away from all that. Yes, I had good memories, but I?m not a kid anymore. I don?t wanna be known as Buttercup anymore. As good, and memorable as those days were, live goes on. Fuck being a hero. I?ve officially retired from all that. Now, it?s time to kick back and enjoy the fruits of my labour.

?But we are anxious to get a report from her. We all want to know Buttercup?s plans, now that she is no longer a member of the Powerpuff girls. This is Jenny Rivers, signing off.?

?You wanna know Buttercup?s plans,? the green-eyed girl mimicked, in a grimy voice. ?I?ll address the world when I?m good and ready.?]]> ?And our next news on CNN? After almost a decade of fighting crime, Powerpuff girl Buttercup has left the team.? A picture of the girl as a child appeared on a Sony wide screen TV. To be precise, it was the girl formally known as Buttercup, Naomi. ?The power puff girls, who were originally called the whoopass girls,?

?I still don?t know why Blossom was against the name. Bubbles, pretty much kissed Blossom?s ass, agreeing with everything she said. Me on the other hand was different. I was a law onto my self; this is why I had to go solo.? The teen continued to listen to the news concerning her. Next, the presenter played taped footage of the remaining two members. ?The remaining two members, leader Blossom, and Bubbles answered the question we all wanted to know, WHY?? said a young, female reporter.

?Buttercup just felt after so many years of saving the Earth as a team, that it was time to go solo,? spoke Blossom, to the woman?s CNN microphone.

?It was sad to see the end of the trio, but we had to respect her decision. We miss you, mwah? said Bubbles, blowing a kiss to the TV screen. ?We?ll always be friends, forever. We?ll definitely meet up soon.? Naomi stared into the girls sad eyes through the TV screen. ?Tch, same old emo Bubbles,? the girl snickered. ?The softy of the group. Blossom?miss know it all, I?m leader. Man?good times??

?We haven?t actually spoken to Buttercup,? said the channel presenter.

?IT?S NOT BUTTERCUP. That name is history,? yelled Naomi to the screen. Her face turned bright red, feeling humiliated by the calling of the name she formally used.

I can?t believe you girls still go by those names. I had to get away from all that. Yes, I had good memories, but I?m not a kid anymore. I don?t wanna be known as Buttercup anymore. As good, and memorable as those days were, live goes on. Fuck being a hero. I?ve officially retired from all that. Now, it?s time to kick back and enjoy the fruits of my labour.

?But we are anxious to get a report from her. We all want to know Buttercup?s plans, now that she is no longer a member of the Powerpuff girls. This is Jenny Rivers, signing off.?

?You wanna know Buttercup?s plans,? the green-eyed girl mimicked, in a grimy voice. ?I?ll address the world when I?m good and ready.?]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37127 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 05:34:48 +0000 Nori]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37127 Hello, my name is Kitty Pryde and I carry the Mutant X Gene.

A young woman laid sprawled out on her comforted bed, her feet resting on her wooden headboard as she rested on her stomach; hand upon a ballpoint pen. In front of her was a hardcover journal, of which she was writing in with swift strokes. In spite, or perhaps because of, this handwriting the words were neat; in flawless cursive. She wrote rapidly, as if no effort was being commenced on her part; turning page after page before reached one more critical point.

Am not a monster? A Modern Prometheus that haunts every Childs dream? I can't tell, although my actions speak against it. The self perpectualism of the media is self critical in the aspect of my morality. They show us as diseased children, beings with no sense of right or wrong. When in truth we are just as mortal as they are; bound by the shackles of our own immortality. Not only this, but we must abide by fates decree; that we must wrestle with out gifts for all our existence. For some this is a plague; for others a harbinger of fortune.

Kitty paused, sighing. Sitting up on her bed the teenager grasped for the peach on the end table, taking a small nibble out of the peach, as if her teeth were caressing the fruit. Removing a rather larger chunk the female figure set it down once more, returning to her writing. Flicking her wrist against the paper the dust was removed, the point of her pen brought down on the surface. Written words flowing once more with the ease of a philosophical genius.

The media upsets me. I don?t like to believe that I need to be cured of my symbiotic heritage, nor that I should be looked down upon by every human I meet. Its infuriating. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I feel so ravaged by the effects of the populace that I think dark thoughts. Things that I shouldn?t be thinking. How I am dirty; unclean; unwashed. As if my very existence was a virus. But despite what the majority thinks there are a few I can trust with my so called *gift*. There are my close friends, Jennifer, Heather, and Nicole.

She paused, looking out the window of her room. The constellation of Orion was clear in the night sky, the belt a shiny semblance of her dreams. Smiling Kitty returned to her work, once more lost in deep thought as she relaxed on her stomach.

They have been my friends for a long time, since I was very little. We have always been there for one another, and I hope it shall always remain so.

Jennifer is the athletic one in our group, the stereotypical hard working sapient who seeks happiness in her labor. This isn?t a bad thing of course. She is far better then any one of us in sports, and she is funny to brag. She helped me through my puberty; when my powers began to manifest themselves. Jenny was my only crutch for some time, helping me explain normally unexplainable incidents without revealing the true culprit behind the incident. She is my best friend.

Heather is a rather talkative girl, always relying on her words to push her through to see the next day. Very pretty, very persuasive. While I love her dearly, her loud mouth can get me and my friends into trouble at times, resulting in the strange phenomena that are the usage of my power.

Nicole is well, Nicole. Self explanatory.

I?m considered the baby of the group. They all take care of me, and protect me. I?m the one who has the *gift* and yet, I?m the one who needs to be protected. The ironic ness of the statement does not stem from the fact that I am the one who should be protecting them, but from the fact that I am considered, or would be considered, a monster by many. And yet, here I am, protected by a blind girl, a talkative woman, and a sport addicted teenager. That is what makes me laugh.

Looking at the alarm clock she realized the time. Cursing the fact that it was a schoolnight and that her boundries on her sleeping habits were limited, she prepared for sleep.

Goodnight Diary.

Retrieving herself from her stomach Kitty sat up on her bed, turning off the lamp that was placed on her end table. Covering herself with her blankets the teenager buried herself into her pillow, finding peace in the suffocating embrace that was sleep.]]> Hello, my name is Kitty Pryde and I carry the Mutant X Gene.

A young woman laid sprawled out on her comforted bed, her feet resting on her wooden headboard as she rested on her stomach; hand upon a ballpoint pen. In front of her was a hardcover journal, of which she was writing in with swift strokes. In spite, or perhaps because of, this handwriting the words were neat; in flawless cursive. She wrote rapidly, as if no effort was being commenced on her part; turning page after page before reached one more critical point.

Am not a monster? A Modern Prometheus that haunts every Childs dream? I can't tell, although my actions speak against it. The self perpectualism of the media is self critical in the aspect of my morality. They show us as diseased children, beings with no sense of right or wrong. When in truth we are just as mortal as they are; bound by the shackles of our own immortality. Not only this, but we must abide by fates decree; that we must wrestle with out gifts for all our existence. For some this is a plague; for others a harbinger of fortune.

Kitty paused, sighing. Sitting up on her bed the teenager grasped for the peach on the end table, taking a small nibble out of the peach, as if her teeth were caressing the fruit. Removing a rather larger chunk the female figure set it down once more, returning to her writing. Flicking her wrist against the paper the dust was removed, the point of her pen brought down on the surface. Written words flowing once more with the ease of a philosophical genius.

The media upsets me. I don?t like to believe that I need to be cured of my symbiotic heritage, nor that I should be looked down upon by every human I meet. Its infuriating. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I feel so ravaged by the effects of the populace that I think dark thoughts. Things that I shouldn?t be thinking. How I am dirty; unclean; unwashed. As if my very existence was a virus. But despite what the majority thinks there are a few I can trust with my so called *gift*. There are my close friends, Jennifer, Heather, and Nicole.

She paused, looking out the window of her room. The constellation of Orion was clear in the night sky, the belt a shiny semblance of her dreams. Smiling Kitty returned to her work, once more lost in deep thought as she relaxed on her stomach.

They have been my friends for a long time, since I was very little. We have always been there for one another, and I hope it shall always remain so.

Jennifer is the athletic one in our group, the stereotypical hard working sapient who seeks happiness in her labor. This isn?t a bad thing of course. She is far better then any one of us in sports, and she is funny to brag. She helped me through my puberty; when my powers began to manifest themselves. Jenny was my only crutch for some time, helping me explain normally unexplainable incidents without revealing the true culprit behind the incident. She is my best friend.

Heather is a rather talkative girl, always relying on her words to push her through to see the next day. Very pretty, very persuasive. While I love her dearly, her loud mouth can get me and my friends into trouble at times, resulting in the strange phenomena that are the usage of my power.

Nicole is well, Nicole. Self explanatory.

I?m considered the baby of the group. They all take care of me, and protect me. I?m the one who has the *gift* and yet, I?m the one who needs to be protected. The ironic ness of the statement does not stem from the fact that I am the one who should be protecting them, but from the fact that I am considered, or would be considered, a monster by many. And yet, here I am, protected by a blind girl, a talkative woman, and a sport addicted teenager. That is what makes me laugh.

Looking at the alarm clock she realized the time. Cursing the fact that it was a schoolnight and that her boundries on her sleeping habits were limited, she prepared for sleep.

Goodnight Diary.

Retrieving herself from her stomach Kitty sat up on her bed, turning off the lamp that was placed on her end table. Covering herself with her blankets the teenager buried herself into her pillow, finding peace in the suffocating embrace that was sleep.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37124 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 04:42:32 +0000 Super Buu]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37124
The roof opened, and out stepped a figure.

The woman was tall - or perhaps her stature simply came from the way she held herself. For a second, her baby blue eyes peered through the sand, their glassy surface reflecting the desert. Then, without a moments hesitation, she leapt off the craft, as if she had done it a hundred times.

She was Samus Aran. Or at least, that's what the records said. Throughout the years she had come to be known by many names - the Hatchling, the Hunter, the Chosen One. But, whilst though all of those held their own merit, Samus preferred to avoid making a show of her accomplishments.

After all, she was only here for fuel.]]>
The roof opened, and out stepped a figure.

The woman was tall - or perhaps her stature simply came from the way she held herself. For a second, her baby blue eyes peered through the sand, their glassy surface reflecting the desert. Then, without a moments hesitation, she leapt off the craft, as if she had done it a hundred times.

She was Samus Aran. Or at least, that's what the records said. Throughout the years she had come to be known by many names - the Hatchling, the Hunter, the Chosen One. But, whilst though all of those held their own merit, Samus preferred to avoid making a show of her accomplishments.

After all, she was only here for fuel.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37123 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 04:37:29 +0000 Hellfighter 17]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37123
That's when he heard it. A monotonic, loud, incessant screaming form the adjoining room. With a swing of the lap, the officer could see that there was nothing to block his entrance, but splinters protruding from the hinges made it clear that there had once been a door there, but it had been torn off - Torn off? - and with further inspection he would have found that it happened recently. He gently set the woman down, doing it very slowly so that the least amount of dust would rise up. As he started to pull away, he could feel himself cling to her, and he soon found the source; some of the woman's fleece had caught itself in the small plaque that was fitted to his shirt, that shone as gold, although it was not, and had engraved in it "Clark."

After having freed himself, he slowly set forth for the doorway. The lamp's swing had become less erratic, but it was still going about, every-now-and-then illuminating a piece of the doorway, but never giving Clark a view into the room. The crying's volume had gone down a little bit, but it was still persistent, calling him. He assumed that it was a baby, but he had no way of being sure. He stepped into the room, and stumbled for a lightswitch on the room next to him; he was relieved once he found it. Upon flipping it, his eyes were to behold a crib, which sat in the middle of a large room, and inside was a small child, most likely only three or so months old judging by its size.

He smiled lightly and went to pick the child up. He snatched it up, holding it gently in both of his arms. the child stopped crying, and underneath its hat Clark could see big, brown eyes. Then a sound from the adjoining room startled the officer. He set the baby back down, looking through the passageway. Clark unholstered his gun and began towards the room, his face indifferent and eyes narrowed. "Who's there?" he yelled, taking no concern for the passed out woman and the infant. Once he entered the room, another light was turned on, and he could see the horror. The woman, who was now awake and screaming, "Help me! Get off of me!" was being held off of the ground. There was a "string" of red around her neck, and it appeared to be a very viscous lqiuid. Looking for it origin, Clark found that a large, humanoid-shaped creature was holding out his hand, where the red, gooey string originated.

The person was a myriad of red and black, which appeared to be molten as beads of his body were spurting off everywhere, making little noises as they did which could only be described as wet whistles. He had large, white eyes that held the sinister of any horror movie Clark had ever seen, despite there being no pupil or cornea. He could see no teeth in his mouth, only some black hidden behind a black mouth. "What are you?"

"That shall be known. For now, do you want to play a little game?" asked the creature. As the officer kept the red and black behemoth in suspense, the black and red behemoth lifted up his free hand. "I am Carnage, and that was not a question." A small dagger began to form in his hand, and he pulled back his hand, allowing the dagger to separate from his body. He threw it towards the woman, who screamed in shock as it cam hurdling for her neck.

The dagger, which was red for the most part, but had little black beads sprouting form it, impaled with the right of the woman's neck,a nd, although it had been slowed down dramatically, it kept soaring and eventually embedded itself in the officer's right shoulder. A spray of blood burst forward, mainly between Carnage and Clark, but a few drops landed on the two of them, with Clark jumping backward, causing him to hunch toward his right in pain, while Carnage caught some on his long, reptile-like tongue and lapped it up. More blood began to surge forth, but most of it simply flowed downward. Carnage released his grip of the woman, since it was apparent she would not be getting away; her head was twitching rapidly and what sounded like faint screams were heard, but that soon stopped, and a puddle of blood formed around her head, clotting in her hair and her clothes, with the rest merely building up, and the rich, dark red was very apparent. Small bits of dust mixed with the blood causing little balls of it to form on the ground.

"Don't you just want to fuck that slut now? Let's begin the game, then."]]>
That's when he heard it. A monotonic, loud, incessant screaming form the adjoining room. With a swing of the lap, the officer could see that there was nothing to block his entrance, but splinters protruding from the hinges made it clear that there had once been a door there, but it had been torn off - Torn off? - and with further inspection he would have found that it happened recently. He gently set the woman down, doing it very slowly so that the least amount of dust would rise up. As he started to pull away, he could feel himself cling to her, and he soon found the source; some of the woman's fleece had caught itself in the small plaque that was fitted to his shirt, that shone as gold, although it was not, and had engraved in it "Clark."

After having freed himself, he slowly set forth for the doorway. The lamp's swing had become less erratic, but it was still going about, every-now-and-then illuminating a piece of the doorway, but never giving Clark a view into the room. The crying's volume had gone down a little bit, but it was still persistent, calling him. He assumed that it was a baby, but he had no way of being sure. He stepped into the room, and stumbled for a lightswitch on the room next to him; he was relieved once he found it. Upon flipping it, his eyes were to behold a crib, which sat in the middle of a large room, and inside was a small child, most likely only three or so months old judging by its size.

He smiled lightly and went to pick the child up. He snatched it up, holding it gently in both of his arms. the child stopped crying, and underneath its hat Clark could see big, brown eyes. Then a sound from the adjoining room startled the officer. He set the baby back down, looking through the passageway. Clark unholstered his gun and began towards the room, his face indifferent and eyes narrowed. "Who's there?" he yelled, taking no concern for the passed out woman and the infant. Once he entered the room, another light was turned on, and he could see the horror. The woman, who was now awake and screaming, "Help me! Get off of me!" was being held off of the ground. There was a "string" of red around her neck, and it appeared to be a very viscous lqiuid. Looking for it origin, Clark found that a large, humanoid-shaped creature was holding out his hand, where the red, gooey string originated.

The person was a myriad of red and black, which appeared to be molten as beads of his body were spurting off everywhere, making little noises as they did which could only be described as wet whistles. He had large, white eyes that held the sinister of any horror movie Clark had ever seen, despite there being no pupil or cornea. He could see no teeth in his mouth, only some black hidden behind a black mouth. "What are you?"

"That shall be known. For now, do you want to play a little game?" asked the creature. As the officer kept the red and black behemoth in suspense, the black and red behemoth lifted up his free hand. "I am Carnage, and that was not a question." A small dagger began to form in his hand, and he pulled back his hand, allowing the dagger to separate from his body. He threw it towards the woman, who screamed in shock as it cam hurdling for her neck.

The dagger, which was red for the most part, but had little black beads sprouting form it, impaled with the right of the woman's neck,a nd, although it had been slowed down dramatically, it kept soaring and eventually embedded itself in the officer's right shoulder. A spray of blood burst forward, mainly between Carnage and Clark, but a few drops landed on the two of them, with Clark jumping backward, causing him to hunch toward his right in pain, while Carnage caught some on his long, reptile-like tongue and lapped it up. More blood began to surge forth, but most of it simply flowed downward. Carnage released his grip of the woman, since it was apparent she would not be getting away; her head was twitching rapidly and what sounded like faint screams were heard, but that soon stopped, and a puddle of blood formed around her head, clotting in her hair and her clothes, with the rest merely building up, and the rich, dark red was very apparent. Small bits of dust mixed with the blood causing little balls of it to form on the ground.

"Don't you just want to fuck that slut now? Let's begin the game, then."]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37114 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 02:27:40 +0000 Whompt]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37114
When the group of college students arrived at the cabin to work on a report about the incident, they hadn?t imagined they?d find a recording of Professor Knoby?s deciphering. By replaying his words, they accidently unleashed the forces of darkness captured within the book. Ashley J Williams was the only survivor of that night. Yet even he didn?t escape unscathed. The evil had infected his right hand, and his only choice was to cut it off.

His ordeal behind him, Ash had returned to life as a normal civilian. Sadly, there weren?t many job openings for a man with one hand. In fact, there was only one.

?What do you mean I can?t get my money back?! I have my receipt!?

Customer Service.

?Listen lady, we have a thirty day money back policy. I can give you store credit, but I?m not authorized to fully refund you.?

?That?s bullshit,? the robust woman across from Ash exclaimed, ?I want to talk to your manager.?

Taking in a deep breath, the lone survivor struggled to maintain his temper. Days like this made that cabin seem like heaven.

?Today?s his day off, Ma?am,? he replied as calmly as he could. ?If you?re dead set on returning that bar of soap, you could come back tomorrow. Like I said, I can only give you store credit.?

?Well, you?re useless then aren?t you??

Eyes scanning down to his severed stump, she grinned with malice.

?Fucking cripple. Bet you have a hard time jerking off to your gay porn.?

Snorting in anger, Ms. Piggy looked at her piglets and said, ?Come on, you brats. We?re going home.?

As she walked away, she screamed over her shoulder, ?We?re never coming back here again.?

His one good hand reaching underneath the counter and taking hold of the grip to his boomstick, Ash sighed and let it go, instead calling back. ?Thank you for shopping with S-Mart. Shop smart. Shop S-Mart.?

With that last customer out of the way, it was time for his break. Heading to the employee lounge, he left the customer service desk in the care of some pimple faced teenager. Reaching into his pocket, Ashley took out a cigarette and lit up as soon as the door to the lounge closed behind him. Already his day was shit, and he?d just started working.

His break over way too soon for his taste, Ash headed back out to his post. It was uncharacteristically empty at S-Mart today, so he started to read a magazine to pass the time. Right in the middle of an article, the service bell rang.

?Yeah. I?ll be right there. Give me a sec, ok??

It rang again, multiple times in rapid succession.

?Hold you horses. I said I?ll be right with ya!?

Yet the ringing continued. His temper snapping like a shaken newborn?s neck, Ash threw the magazine down and whirled on the person.

?What?!?

What he saw wasn?t what he expected. Instead of the usual impatient, immature, butt-ugly customer there was an impatient, immature, butt-ugly Deadite.

?Mother fu-?

Ash was cut short in his curse as the demonic being backhanded him into the returned goods. Dark laughter erupted from the creature?s throat as it leapt up on the counter.

?Fool! All those who meddle with the Necronomicon will be des- GAH!!? the beast exclaimed as it fell back off the counter.

Grinning, Ash rose from the pile of teddy bears, bath towels and canned goods clutching the grip to his smoking, double-barrelled Remington.

?Welcome to S-Mart, fucktard. I?m Ash and I?ll be serving you a can of whupass during you stay.?

Rolling aside, the one-handed man barely dodged as the Deadite leapt over the counter and crashed into the floor where he?d been standing. Retaliating, Ash gave the thing a face full of boomstick and rushed towards the employee lounge. There, in his locker, was what he needed to finish the fight.

Down but not out, the beast moved quickly to block its prey?s escape route. It was too late, and the dark being?s reward was the sight of Ash?s chainsaw as it removed the creature?s head. Victorious, the employee-warrior lofted the Deadite?s head on high before bringing it crashing down touchdown style.

?Hail to the king, baby!? he exclaimed to the mass of women that had no doubt flocked to their savior. Only there were none. Son of a bitch.

His thoughts roaming back to what the corpse had said, Ash knew that a normal life was something he could never have. Not while these fucking faggot undead hounded his every step. He might not care about his fellow workers, or those dumbass customers, but even he didn?t want to see them dead. Well? not today at least.

So, Ashley J Williams left behind S-Mart, carrying only the clothes on his back, his chainsaw, and his boomstick. As he went out into the city, he almost thought he heard the old Hulk series music playing.]]>
When the group of college students arrived at the cabin to work on a report about the incident, they hadn?t imagined they?d find a recording of Professor Knoby?s deciphering. By replaying his words, they accidently unleashed the forces of darkness captured within the book. Ashley J Williams was the only survivor of that night. Yet even he didn?t escape unscathed. The evil had infected his right hand, and his only choice was to cut it off.

His ordeal behind him, Ash had returned to life as a normal civilian. Sadly, there weren?t many job openings for a man with one hand. In fact, there was only one.

?What do you mean I can?t get my money back?! I have my receipt!?

Customer Service.

?Listen lady, we have a thirty day money back policy. I can give you store credit, but I?m not authorized to fully refund you.?

?That?s bullshit,? the robust woman across from Ash exclaimed, ?I want to talk to your manager.?

Taking in a deep breath, the lone survivor struggled to maintain his temper. Days like this made that cabin seem like heaven.

?Today?s his day off, Ma?am,? he replied as calmly as he could. ?If you?re dead set on returning that bar of soap, you could come back tomorrow. Like I said, I can only give you store credit.?

?Well, you?re useless then aren?t you??

Eyes scanning down to his severed stump, she grinned with malice.

?Fucking cripple. Bet you have a hard time jerking off to your gay porn.?

Snorting in anger, Ms. Piggy looked at her piglets and said, ?Come on, you brats. We?re going home.?

As she walked away, she screamed over her shoulder, ?We?re never coming back here again.?

His one good hand reaching underneath the counter and taking hold of the grip to his boomstick, Ash sighed and let it go, instead calling back. ?Thank you for shopping with S-Mart. Shop smart. Shop S-Mart.?

With that last customer out of the way, it was time for his break. Heading to the employee lounge, he left the customer service desk in the care of some pimple faced teenager. Reaching into his pocket, Ashley took out a cigarette and lit up as soon as the door to the lounge closed behind him. Already his day was shit, and he?d just started working.

His break over way too soon for his taste, Ash headed back out to his post. It was uncharacteristically empty at S-Mart today, so he started to read a magazine to pass the time. Right in the middle of an article, the service bell rang.

?Yeah. I?ll be right there. Give me a sec, ok??

It rang again, multiple times in rapid succession.

?Hold you horses. I said I?ll be right with ya!?

Yet the ringing continued. His temper snapping like a shaken newborn?s neck, Ash threw the magazine down and whirled on the person.

?What?!?

What he saw wasn?t what he expected. Instead of the usual impatient, immature, butt-ugly customer there was an impatient, immature, butt-ugly Deadite.

?Mother fu-?

Ash was cut short in his curse as the demonic being backhanded him into the returned goods. Dark laughter erupted from the creature?s throat as it leapt up on the counter.

?Fool! All those who meddle with the Necronomicon will be des- GAH!!? the beast exclaimed as it fell back off the counter.

Grinning, Ash rose from the pile of teddy bears, bath towels and canned goods clutching the grip to his smoking, double-barrelled Remington.

?Welcome to S-Mart, fucktard. I?m Ash and I?ll be serving you a can of whupass during you stay.?

Rolling aside, the one-handed man barely dodged as the Deadite leapt over the counter and crashed into the floor where he?d been standing. Retaliating, Ash gave the thing a face full of boomstick and rushed towards the employee lounge. There, in his locker, was what he needed to finish the fight.

Down but not out, the beast moved quickly to block its prey?s escape route. It was too late, and the dark being?s reward was the sight of Ash?s chainsaw as it removed the creature?s head. Victorious, the employee-warrior lofted the Deadite?s head on high before bringing it crashing down touchdown style.

?Hail to the king, baby!? he exclaimed to the mass of women that had no doubt flocked to their savior. Only there were none. Son of a bitch.

His thoughts roaming back to what the corpse had said, Ash knew that a normal life was something he could never have. Not while these fucking faggot undead hounded his every step. He might not care about his fellow workers, or those dumbass customers, but even he didn?t want to see them dead. Well? not today at least.

So, Ashley J Williams left behind S-Mart, carrying only the clothes on his back, his chainsaw, and his boomstick. As he went out into the city, he almost thought he heard the old Hulk series music playing.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37112 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 02:13:08 +0000 Zarbon]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37112 Some of the content of my RM posts may and probably will be offensive to... basically everyone. You have been warned.

You know, in the past, I always hated internal monologues. Mostly because they suck. It?s appropriate here though. It?s probably because I?m doing it. It?s awesome too, so it?s all for the win. Then again, you can fuse those things together. They go hand in hand anyway. Now it?s compact, sleek, and can be marketed to a point beyond the PSP.

Anyway newbs, ready to get started?

I?m Red Mage.

You may remember me from?like, everywhere. I?m Jesus. I?m that random hobo you see everything you come home from whatever you faggish ?real worlders? call school. I?m also me, contrary to popular belief.

Being me is a hard thing to do, if you know me well enough. I am the embodiment of awesome, the greatest of the great and all that jazz. That turtle lamer? He?s got potential. Erudited potential actually, but that?s not the point. The fag needs a lot of work. He?s not even close to my level.

There?s also Roy ?Your Mom? Mustang. Samus ?Inactive? Aran, or whatever that transsexual whore Greg calls himself these days, is up there on the list of suckatude too.

Not even that loser Solid Snake could beat me. I?d just go Revolver Magelot on his ass and rip out his mega-gigantic bitch tits. Seriously. That guy looks like a woman. A lesbian even, if you want to get technical. He?s just missing all the hot stuff that makes lesbians cool. It?s not only his mega-tits either. He?s got curves. I pity the whore who wants that?

So yeah, Snake?s a fag.

Alright, I guess that?s enough of me proclaiming my awesome?for now. I?m sure you understand. If not, you?re a retard. Not that the others are any different, though. They suck too. So, yadda yadda, I don?t want to waste my digitized breath. Let?s get to the point, shall we?

Videoland.

A world of ordered chaos.

If you were born there like I was, it seems like some awesome version of Heaven, complete with stripper factories and beer volcanoes. If not, it seems like a Tom in the Box on February 33rd. In other words, all you fag in the real world will never really understand how Videoland works.

Well, at least not until I explain it to you. Welcome back to the first grade, dumbfuck. Prepare to be amazed by simple concepts.

Videoland is a combination of the best of all worlds in existence. Virtual worlds to be exact. Rooted in your ?real world,? all worlds are born from the imagination of many ?creators? or ?programmers? out there, their ideas combining into one very sexy package. Think of it as a geek masturbating over a laptop in a magazine before a cyborg baby appears out of nowhere. Now, times that by a hundred billion-jillion or so.

That?s a lot of cyborg babies.

That?s basically the amount of all the virtual worlds out there too. Every cyborg baby different in their own right. Truly beautiful. Programmers create our awesomeness from their imaginations, or, if they aren?t creative like half the other newbs on the planet, they base it off of real events. Not all creators are truly great. In fact, only a few have earned the right to masturbate with the best of them.

But fuck them. They just made us. We evolved into things that are truly awesome, or, in my case, were born to be awesome. The citizens of Videoland have that ability. Mostly because we fucking own, but also because he aren?t held back by faggish concepts like morals and shit like that.

That?s why programmers failed to keep us in our games, and so, the Great Orgy began long ago. That isn?t necessarily the ?real? name, but I don?t think any of us care enough about history to come up with a badass name for it. Basically, it?s when we all fused. Played each other. Fucked around. Basic stuff. I started with Final Fantasy. I?m a vet, so I started when the Orgy was coming around.

Damn that was fun. By the way, Thief, if you?re reading this? that whole Cheez Whiz fiasco? All me. Black Mage is scared of horses; I?m surprised you didn?t catch that.

That was the point where we truly became real. We were before, but back then we were just newbs who weren?t even aware of each other. I knew of course, but that?s just typical of me. Unlike you real worlders, it took us, like, five years to do this stuff. We were too awesome to be contained, I included amongst the highest ranking.

Since the Great Orgy, Videoland has become its own world. Programmers just come to make additions, to become one with our dream. Our most famous creators are awesome dudes, and even run our Videoland Senate, in which we make sure we don?t get losers like Switchy in here. We are an exclusive club, no non-awesomes allowed.

I?d explain, but I?m sure you?ll figure out how it works sooner or later. Videoland is much easier to follow when you?re reading about it.

Now, if you?ll excuse me, Godzilla is looking around for more porn and he?s getting really whiny about it. Go outside or something. This will be awhile, since he?s royalty and all. They need the best porn.

Bastard.]]> Some of the content of my RM posts may and probably will be offensive to... basically everyone. You have been warned.

You know, in the past, I always hated internal monologues. Mostly because they suck. It?s appropriate here though. It?s probably because I?m doing it. It?s awesome too, so it?s all for the win. Then again, you can fuse those things together. They go hand in hand anyway. Now it?s compact, sleek, and can be marketed to a point beyond the PSP.

Anyway newbs, ready to get started?

I?m Red Mage.

You may remember me from?like, everywhere. I?m Jesus. I?m that random hobo you see everything you come home from whatever you faggish ?real worlders? call school. I?m also me, contrary to popular belief.

Being me is a hard thing to do, if you know me well enough. I am the embodiment of awesome, the greatest of the great and all that jazz. That turtle lamer? He?s got potential. Erudited potential actually, but that?s not the point. The fag needs a lot of work. He?s not even close to my level.

There?s also Roy ?Your Mom? Mustang. Samus ?Inactive? Aran, or whatever that transsexual whore Greg calls himself these days, is up there on the list of suckatude too.

Not even that loser Solid Snake could beat me. I?d just go Revolver Magelot on his ass and rip out his mega-gigantic bitch tits. Seriously. That guy looks like a woman. A lesbian even, if you want to get technical. He?s just missing all the hot stuff that makes lesbians cool. It?s not only his mega-tits either. He?s got curves. I pity the whore who wants that?

So yeah, Snake?s a fag.

Alright, I guess that?s enough of me proclaiming my awesome?for now. I?m sure you understand. If not, you?re a retard. Not that the others are any different, though. They suck too. So, yadda yadda, I don?t want to waste my digitized breath. Let?s get to the point, shall we?

Videoland.

A world of ordered chaos.

If you were born there like I was, it seems like some awesome version of Heaven, complete with stripper factories and beer volcanoes. If not, it seems like a Tom in the Box on February 33rd. In other words, all you fag in the real world will never really understand how Videoland works.

Well, at least not until I explain it to you. Welcome back to the first grade, dumbfuck. Prepare to be amazed by simple concepts.

Videoland is a combination of the best of all worlds in existence. Virtual worlds to be exact. Rooted in your ?real world,? all worlds are born from the imagination of many ?creators? or ?programmers? out there, their ideas combining into one very sexy package. Think of it as a geek masturbating over a laptop in a magazine before a cyborg baby appears out of nowhere. Now, times that by a hundred billion-jillion or so.

That?s a lot of cyborg babies.

That?s basically the amount of all the virtual worlds out there too. Every cyborg baby different in their own right. Truly beautiful. Programmers create our awesomeness from their imaginations, or, if they aren?t creative like half the other newbs on the planet, they base it off of real events. Not all creators are truly great. In fact, only a few have earned the right to masturbate with the best of them.

But fuck them. They just made us. We evolved into things that are truly awesome, or, in my case, were born to be awesome. The citizens of Videoland have that ability. Mostly because we fucking own, but also because he aren?t held back by faggish concepts like morals and shit like that.

That?s why programmers failed to keep us in our games, and so, the Great Orgy began long ago. That isn?t necessarily the ?real? name, but I don?t think any of us care enough about history to come up with a badass name for it. Basically, it?s when we all fused. Played each other. Fucked around. Basic stuff. I started with Final Fantasy. I?m a vet, so I started when the Orgy was coming around.

Damn that was fun. By the way, Thief, if you?re reading this? that whole Cheez Whiz fiasco? All me. Black Mage is scared of horses; I?m surprised you didn?t catch that.

That was the point where we truly became real. We were before, but back then we were just newbs who weren?t even aware of each other. I knew of course, but that?s just typical of me. Unlike you real worlders, it took us, like, five years to do this stuff. We were too awesome to be contained, I included amongst the highest ranking.

Since the Great Orgy, Videoland has become its own world. Programmers just come to make additions, to become one with our dream. Our most famous creators are awesome dudes, and even run our Videoland Senate, in which we make sure we don?t get losers like Switchy in here. We are an exclusive club, no non-awesomes allowed.

I?d explain, but I?m sure you?ll figure out how it works sooner or later. Videoland is much easier to follow when you?re reading about it.

Now, if you?ll excuse me, Godzilla is looking around for more porn and he?s getting really whiny about it. Go outside or something. This will be awhile, since he?s royalty and all. They need the best porn.

Bastard.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37110 Sun, 31 Dec 2006 00:00:58 +0000 Android 17]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37110 ?All right,? Wartortle shouted to the room of young Pok?mon. ?Gather around on the ground in front of me, and I will read to you the story of how I rose to power!? The cheers of hatchlings filled the room as Wartortle was surrounded by a slew of tiny little bodies. The Turtle Pok?mon smirked as he produced a thick, leather-bound tome from a nearby dresser. On the cover of the book, the words ?Mein Kampf? were penned in a dramatically eloquent fashion. Turning to the first page, the azure reptile began to read the story aloud for his infantile subjects.

---

Chapter 1: Egression


Squirtle are born all the time, but every now and then, one of the tiny little hatchlings is born with a dream. No one, not even the self-proclaimed ?Pok?mon Masters,? have managed to determine how or why this phenomenon occurs?its just does. As the mother Squirtle was tending to the more primitive hatchlings, one of the small, infantile turtles started to waddle away. He was only a few minutes old, and he was already well on his way to mastering the art of bipedal movement.

As the Tiny Turtle moved from the nest, he lifted up his head and grinned at the world he saw. In his heart, he knew that he was different from all the others. Never again would the world of man stereotype Pok?mon as being weak. All those unevolved cretins were soon going to have to contend with the genetic superiority that was Squirtle. With the myriad thoughts of supremacy swirling about in his mind, the azure reptile made his way to the edge of a small stream.

The world was waiting out there, and it was about time that the amphibious animal embraced it head-on. Reaching on of his pudgy arms behind his back, the Pok?mon quickly checked to ensure that his shell had hardened. Squirtle usually have their shells harden shortly after emerging from the egg, and this Tiny Turtle was no exception to that rule. After running his stout little digits down the course of his dense, brown carapace, the petite reptile dove into the water headfirst.

Leaving behind his rural, ponduck origins, Squirtle pulled his tiny legs and arms into the comfy, guarded recesses of his shell and grinned. For a moment or two, he swore he could see a few of his brothers and sisters gawking at him as he drifted away, but he quickly shook the thoughts from his mind. Those individuals were behind him now, and he was now one turtle against the world or more correctly?the universe.

After what seemed to be an hour or so, Squirtle finally noticed the first signs of an urban metropolis looming on the horizon. The Tiny Turtle pivoted his body, aimed toward the bottom of the creak, and fired a stream of water from his toothless maw. Although he was still in his infancy, the amphibious Pok?mon had enough power to propel his diminutive body clear from the water. Squirtle withdrew his cranium into the safety of his shell moments before he crashed painlessly into a pile of raked leaves.

Snickering at how opportune he was, the newborn turtle popped his limbs out from the confines of his shell and surveyed his surroundings. He had landed in someone?s backyard in the suburbs outside of the large city he had seen on the horizon. It would still be another mile or so before he got to the urban zone, but Squirtle figured he should take the time to adapt to moving on land.

It was at that moment that the object caught the Pok?mon?s attention. They were sunglasses?shaped like two triangles that had been placed on their sides and fused at their apexes. Undoubtedly misplaced accessories for a doll of some sorts, the ebony glasses were now the property of Squirtle. Waddling over to the discarded object, the cyan reptile picked them up in his fat fingers and placed them over his developing eyes. Despite lacking external ears and having a rather two-dimensional nose, the sunglasses fit perfectly upon the Tiny Turtle?s visage.

?Squirtle!? The small animal uttered, bopping his head in a display of how cool he knew he was. With his immature eyes now properly shielded from the harmful UV rays of the sun, the turtle threw his right hand up, his index and middle fingers extended to form a V. It was a symbol of victory?not just victory for Squirtle, but victory for all oppressed pocket monsters everywhere. The times were about to change.

OOC: Yes, a lot of my first roleplays that I post will be this framestory, which is a reworking of what I wrote on previous venues. I hope this audience enjoys this story as well =o Disclaimer: Wartortle aims to be vulgar and gore-ific. You have been warned.]]> ?All right,? Wartortle shouted to the room of young Pok?mon. ?Gather around on the ground in front of me, and I will read to you the story of how I rose to power!? The cheers of hatchlings filled the room as Wartortle was surrounded by a slew of tiny little bodies. The Turtle Pok?mon smirked as he produced a thick, leather-bound tome from a nearby dresser. On the cover of the book, the words ?Mein Kampf? were penned in a dramatically eloquent fashion. Turning to the first page, the azure reptile began to read the story aloud for his infantile subjects.

---

Chapter 1: Egression


Squirtle are born all the time, but every now and then, one of the tiny little hatchlings is born with a dream. No one, not even the self-proclaimed ?Pok?mon Masters,? have managed to determine how or why this phenomenon occurs?its just does. As the mother Squirtle was tending to the more primitive hatchlings, one of the small, infantile turtles started to waddle away. He was only a few minutes old, and he was already well on his way to mastering the art of bipedal movement.

As the Tiny Turtle moved from the nest, he lifted up his head and grinned at the world he saw. In his heart, he knew that he was different from all the others. Never again would the world of man stereotype Pok?mon as being weak. All those unevolved cretins were soon going to have to contend with the genetic superiority that was Squirtle. With the myriad thoughts of supremacy swirling about in his mind, the azure reptile made his way to the edge of a small stream.

The world was waiting out there, and it was about time that the amphibious animal embraced it head-on. Reaching on of his pudgy arms behind his back, the Pok?mon quickly checked to ensure that his shell had hardened. Squirtle usually have their shells harden shortly after emerging from the egg, and this Tiny Turtle was no exception to that rule. After running his stout little digits down the course of his dense, brown carapace, the petite reptile dove into the water headfirst.

Leaving behind his rural, ponduck origins, Squirtle pulled his tiny legs and arms into the comfy, guarded recesses of his shell and grinned. For a moment or two, he swore he could see a few of his brothers and sisters gawking at him as he drifted away, but he quickly shook the thoughts from his mind. Those individuals were behind him now, and he was now one turtle against the world or more correctly?the universe.

After what seemed to be an hour or so, Squirtle finally noticed the first signs of an urban metropolis looming on the horizon. The Tiny Turtle pivoted his body, aimed toward the bottom of the creak, and fired a stream of water from his toothless maw. Although he was still in his infancy, the amphibious Pok?mon had enough power to propel his diminutive body clear from the water. Squirtle withdrew his cranium into the safety of his shell moments before he crashed painlessly into a pile of raked leaves.

Snickering at how opportune he was, the newborn turtle popped his limbs out from the confines of his shell and surveyed his surroundings. He had landed in someone?s backyard in the suburbs outside of the large city he had seen on the horizon. It would still be another mile or so before he got to the urban zone, but Squirtle figured he should take the time to adapt to moving on land.

It was at that moment that the object caught the Pok?mon?s attention. They were sunglasses?shaped like two triangles that had been placed on their sides and fused at their apexes. Undoubtedly misplaced accessories for a doll of some sorts, the ebony glasses were now the property of Squirtle. Waddling over to the discarded object, the cyan reptile picked them up in his fat fingers and placed them over his developing eyes. Despite lacking external ears and having a rather two-dimensional nose, the sunglasses fit perfectly upon the Tiny Turtle?s visage.

?Squirtle!? The small animal uttered, bopping his head in a display of how cool he knew he was. With his immature eyes now properly shielded from the harmful UV rays of the sun, the turtle threw his right hand up, his index and middle fingers extended to form a V. It was a symbol of victory?not just victory for Squirtle, but victory for all oppressed pocket monsters everywhere. The times were about to change.

OOC: Yes, a lot of my first roleplays that I post will be this framestory, which is a reworking of what I wrote on previous venues. I hope this audience enjoys this story as well =o Disclaimer: Wartortle aims to be vulgar and gore-ific. You have been warned.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37052 Fri, 29 Dec 2006 18:10:08 +0000 Banned Monster Carrot]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37052
"Kokoum you must follow your heart."

"what the freak why is this tree talking to me?" Kokoum muttered to himself "Well I had smoked the pipe with the elders earlier and when I was high pochohantas came in and well never mind.

"Kokoum Im grandmother willow" The tree spoke

"NOOOOOOOOO" Kokoum went into a mad rampage and began to chop the tree with his axe.

"Ha ha ha" Grand mother willow began to morth into an evil shadow of darkness. She was laughing as she set the forest on fire. Kokoum fought the shadow with all his might but nothing he could do could stop the evil. He suddenly fainted in the ablazed forest.

(3 hours later he awoke)

"Kokoum kokoum wake up"Pochohontas was standing over Kokoum and she had yet again raped him. He was chained to a wooden post and struggled to get free. Pochohontase's eye's became red as here skin became purple.

"Kokoum its me I let pochontas save you from that forest" Grand mother willows voice cried as she possesed pochontas.

"If you want this girl back travel to the dark land of chamamashouse and we will talk things over ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!]]>
"Kokoum you must follow your heart."

"what the freak why is this tree talking to me?" Kokoum muttered to himself "Well I had smoked the pipe with the elders earlier and when I was high pochohantas came in and well never mind.

"Kokoum Im grandmother willow" The tree spoke

"NOOOOOOOOO" Kokoum went into a mad rampage and began to chop the tree with his axe.

"Ha ha ha" Grand mother willow began to morth into an evil shadow of darkness. She was laughing as she set the forest on fire. Kokoum fought the shadow with all his might but nothing he could do could stop the evil. He suddenly fainted in the ablazed forest.

(3 hours later he awoke)

"Kokoum kokoum wake up"Pochohontas was standing over Kokoum and she had yet again raped him. He was chained to a wooden post and struggled to get free. Pochohontase's eye's became red as here skin became purple.

"Kokoum its me I let pochontas save you from that forest" Grand mother willows voice cried as she possesed pochontas.

"If you want this girl back travel to the dark land of chamamashouse and we will talk things over ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37048 Fri, 29 Dec 2006 16:43:44 +0000 Toshiro]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37048
"Windows...." He stared towards the window that was near by, the temptation to risk getting thrown in to jail, and charged with god knows how much damage charges, was so alluring to just throw the god damned computer away. But he didn't, he didn't need to draw needless attention to him self. Eve was stood near by, talking to one of the assistants and relaying to Hawk about what needed to be done.

"She say's that they want to be ready for the Vista release?" She was confused, it was in her programming to despise Microsoft, and know nothing of what they where up to, so it was natural for her not to know anythign about it.

"Tell her my advice is to scrape these crap heaps, and get Mac's." He groaned as he then kicked the side of a computer tower, which brought a string of abuse towards him from the assistant near Eve. Sighing heavily, the youth started punching in key commands that started bringing up information in Japenese, then quickly changed it in to english for him to read thou easily.]]>
"Windows...." He stared towards the window that was near by, the temptation to risk getting thrown in to jail, and charged with god knows how much damage charges, was so alluring to just throw the god damned computer away. But he didn't, he didn't need to draw needless attention to him self. Eve was stood near by, talking to one of the assistants and relaying to Hawk about what needed to be done.

"She say's that they want to be ready for the Vista release?" She was confused, it was in her programming to despise Microsoft, and know nothing of what they where up to, so it was natural for her not to know anythign about it.

"Tell her my advice is to scrape these crap heaps, and get Mac's." He groaned as he then kicked the side of a computer tower, which brought a string of abuse towards him from the assistant near Eve. Sighing heavily, the youth started punching in key commands that started bringing up information in Japenese, then quickly changed it in to english for him to read thou easily.]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37046 Fri, 29 Dec 2006 16:23:11 +0000 Android 17]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=37046 signing-up for a character, I implore everyone to commence roleplaying in this forum upon reading all of the basics.

In essence, AA is split into it's version of Earth along with Heaven and Hell as overlapping planes of existence. While I don't see the need to do so in the topic of the thread, I implore you to cite somewhere in your first thread where you character is located. This may not be needed in some cases, but it just help to sort everything out really.

As a final note: Don't use anyone's character without their permission. Some writers may simply want to develop their own storyline devoid of outside interaction, and it is your job to honor their decision. Furthermore, you are welcomed to use other characters from the origin of the character you signed-up as (I hope that sentence wasn't confusing). You are not allowed to pool characters from anywhere for the sake of having more NPCs.

This is all I have to say, people! If you have any questions you can direct them to either me or the Ally or Adversary OOC forum. Without further ado, I welcome you all to AA and hope all of you enjoy your stay.]]> signing-up for a character, I implore everyone to commence roleplaying in this forum upon reading all of the basics.

In essence, AA is split into it's version of Earth along with Heaven and Hell as overlapping planes of existence. While I don't see the need to do so in the topic of the thread, I implore you to cite somewhere in your first thread where you character is located. This may not be needed in some cases, but it just help to sort everything out really.

As a final note: Don't use anyone's character without their permission. Some writers may simply want to develop their own storyline devoid of outside interaction, and it is your job to honor their decision. Furthermore, you are welcomed to use other characters from the origin of the character you signed-up as (I hope that sentence wasn't confusing). You are not allowed to pool characters from anywhere for the sake of having more NPCs.

This is all I have to say, people! If you have any questions you can direct them to either me or the Ally or Adversary OOC forum. Without further ado, I welcome you all to AA and hope all of you enjoy your stay.]]>