<![CDATA[CDBZ Archive - Workshop]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/ Sun, 20 Sep 2026 22:08:37 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[GIMP]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17964 Mon, 08 Apr 2013 19:06:54 +0000 Shun]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17964
I wouldn't say that I've mastered Photoshop but I do believe I've become familiar with it. I was hoping to try something new. Anyone know if it's any good?

I know that I could just as easily google but random people's opinions aren't the same as Chubbsian opinions.]]>
I wouldn't say that I've mastered Photoshop but I do believe I've become familiar with it. I was hoping to try something new. Anyone know if it's any good?

I know that I could just as easily google but random people's opinions aren't the same as Chubbsian opinions.]]> <![CDATA[Retane Vs 17]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17958 Thu, 28 Mar 2013 05:32:25 +0000 Mal Nova]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17958 <![CDATA[ROUND 2: FIGHT!]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17897 Sat, 16 Feb 2013 01:12:30 +0000 Sigfried Hunin]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17897
On top of that, Meer did his Meer thing where he gets all amped and then we get all amped and then he just leaves or something. That's ok, I'm sure we all forgive him.

So, I believe that I've got a format where a lot of mofos that all hate each other (as people, not as writers) can just coexist, if not synergise:

1: We choose a generic setting with high fantastical elements where almost anything in-genre can happen.

2: We start fucking writing.

3: Whoever writes about a thing first establishes the canon.

Events and huge aspects of gameplay that are too overtly restrictive will just be ignored by everyone else or it's assumed it just takes place in that area/in that character's life.

4: Writers make little notes that they apply to a big-ass thread to vaguely keep track of this shit.

5: Interesting writing happens as we adapt to interesting stuff.



Now, obviously this is going to have some problems with canon, but screw it. Look at what we did to DBZ. It doesn't even REMOTELY RESEMBLE what the original shit was. It's a hodge-podge of what the old site, the new site and whatever else people feel like adding in. It works, it's fun.

Most importantly: this system isn't going to be all tied up with bullshit bureaucracy. You just write and then other people write and if you don't feel like dealing with their horse shit, don't.

We can do this with Meer's setting or pick a new one, whatever works.

You guys have any thought's comments? Anyone interested in just going for it?]]>
On top of that, Meer did his Meer thing where he gets all amped and then we get all amped and then he just leaves or something. That's ok, I'm sure we all forgive him.

So, I believe that I've got a format where a lot of mofos that all hate each other (as people, not as writers) can just coexist, if not synergise:

1: We choose a generic setting with high fantastical elements where almost anything in-genre can happen.

2: We start fucking writing.

3: Whoever writes about a thing first establishes the canon.

Events and huge aspects of gameplay that are too overtly restrictive will just be ignored by everyone else or it's assumed it just takes place in that area/in that character's life.

4: Writers make little notes that they apply to a big-ass thread to vaguely keep track of this shit.

5: Interesting writing happens as we adapt to interesting stuff.



Now, obviously this is going to have some problems with canon, but screw it. Look at what we did to DBZ. It doesn't even REMOTELY RESEMBLE what the original shit was. It's a hodge-podge of what the old site, the new site and whatever else people feel like adding in. It works, it's fun.

Most importantly: this system isn't going to be all tied up with bullshit bureaucracy. You just write and then other people write and if you don't feel like dealing with their horse shit, don't.

We can do this with Meer's setting or pick a new one, whatever works.

You guys have any thought's comments? Anyone interested in just going for it?]]> <![CDATA[Ander's Rap]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17886 Fri, 08 Feb 2013 01:23:19 +0000 Ander]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17886 EDIT: Here's the original post.

Without further ado, this one's for you, Tim:

Quote:As if remembering something, Ander snapped his fingers.

“Oh, by the way, I have something for you,” he announced.

“Ooh, what is it?” Ashe asked excitedly.

He fumbled in his capsule bag, fingers tracing along the symbols for one with unique lettering. Upon finding it, he summoned up a waist-high pillar of earth and simultaneously activated the cylinder, revealing a fairly primitive tape recorder. He clicked ‘play,’ and an audible beat-boxing sound poured out from the tiny little speakers, the thief slowly bobbing his head in tune with the rhythm. A knowing smile crossed both of their faces, and Ashe couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You really took that rap seriously, didn’t you? Must have hurt your feelings pretty badly,” the pink-haired girl laughed.

Ander simply amusingly held up a finger for silence and placed the audio device on the pillar, and then he grabbed Ashe by the biceps and positioned her at arm’s length away from him, releasing her to step into his stance. He bounced from side to side on the balls of his heels, slumping his shoulders forward and throwing in some timing hand gestures to help with his flow. He had studied those music videos during his flight to Namek very carefully, and emulated the professionals down to the very last detail. Ashe loosely folded her arms over her chest, a bemused grin playing on her lips as she watched the display. And then he began.

“Bet you thought you owned me with rhymes of conjecture
So I’ma sit you down now while I spit this lecture
You’re baggin’ on the junk that I’m packin’
One look inside and you’ll see I ain’t lackin’
I’m sorry but you can’t handle this kinda action
One night under me and I’ll put you in traction
Valis, Ander, the fastest gun in the West
I shoot straight from the hip and blow it off on ya chest
Two seconds in and I’ll have you screamin’ my name
Without even bustin’ out the second half ’a my game
Sittin’ there and tryin’ to diss my thievin’
That’s a compliment B, once I get it ain’t no retrieving’
I’ll straight up take your money, your pride
Then maybe afterwards we can go for a ride
On the Ander Express cuz I got the balls like dragon,
Super-powered skills but no point in braggin’
But enough about me, let’s talk about you
Ain’t seen no guy on your arm, you must be a shrew
You try to lock it down and keep it tight
But one look at you and dude says goodnight
Can’t get ’em to stick around long enough to tease or tame
You got no-body Ashe, it’s a cryin’ shame
Got your pink hair and all them clothes
Sorry Ashe you still lose out to all them hoes
Plenty others to choose, blonde, blue and red
Think I’ll take my pick from one ’a dem instead
Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck
There’s the cuss for my rap now you’re outta luck
Metal Man will rock your shit, I’ll straight make you a clown
Your friends will have to come pick up the pieces like “officer down”
Tell me again, what was it you were sayin’?
I can’t hear it no more over the beat that I’m playin’
And now I’m a big enough man to make this confession
I still like you Ashe, I’ll turn around in the session
To really try and offer up this truce
Cuz a lyrical game ain’t worth my juice
I think I’ll take your advice and try to go for the steal
Only a matter of time baby ’fore I’m sealin’ the deal
You can try to get away with dodges, dips, and darts
But there ain’t no escapin’ baby I’m the King of Hearts
Now I really think it’s time to bury the hatchet
I’m like a fever girl and you’re gon-na catch it
So it’s the end now, stop tryin’ to taunt me
Come on now Ashe, you know that you want me.”

With the last line, Ander closed the distance between them, barely an inch of separation as he deliberately and teasingly violated her personal space, both challenging and intimate at the same time. Right on cue, the tape ended with the last beat, perfectly coordinated. He looked down his nose at her with a self-satisfied, toothless grin plastered on his face, and the thief smugly cocked an eyebrow as he studied her expression, waiting for the girl’s reaction.
]]> EDIT: Here's the original post.

Without further ado, this one's for you, Tim:

Quote:As if remembering something, Ander snapped his fingers.

“Oh, by the way, I have something for you,” he announced.

“Ooh, what is it?” Ashe asked excitedly.

He fumbled in his capsule bag, fingers tracing along the symbols for one with unique lettering. Upon finding it, he summoned up a waist-high pillar of earth and simultaneously activated the cylinder, revealing a fairly primitive tape recorder. He clicked ‘play,’ and an audible beat-boxing sound poured out from the tiny little speakers, the thief slowly bobbing his head in tune with the rhythm. A knowing smile crossed both of their faces, and Ashe couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You really took that rap seriously, didn’t you? Must have hurt your feelings pretty badly,” the pink-haired girl laughed.

Ander simply amusingly held up a finger for silence and placed the audio device on the pillar, and then he grabbed Ashe by the biceps and positioned her at arm’s length away from him, releasing her to step into his stance. He bounced from side to side on the balls of his heels, slumping his shoulders forward and throwing in some timing hand gestures to help with his flow. He had studied those music videos during his flight to Namek very carefully, and emulated the professionals down to the very last detail. Ashe loosely folded her arms over her chest, a bemused grin playing on her lips as she watched the display. And then he began.

“Bet you thought you owned me with rhymes of conjecture
So I’ma sit you down now while I spit this lecture
You’re baggin’ on the junk that I’m packin’
One look inside and you’ll see I ain’t lackin’
I’m sorry but you can’t handle this kinda action
One night under me and I’ll put you in traction
Valis, Ander, the fastest gun in the West
I shoot straight from the hip and blow it off on ya chest
Two seconds in and I’ll have you screamin’ my name
Without even bustin’ out the second half ’a my game
Sittin’ there and tryin’ to diss my thievin’
That’s a compliment B, once I get it ain’t no retrieving’
I’ll straight up take your money, your pride
Then maybe afterwards we can go for a ride
On the Ander Express cuz I got the balls like dragon,
Super-powered skills but no point in braggin’
But enough about me, let’s talk about you
Ain’t seen no guy on your arm, you must be a shrew
You try to lock it down and keep it tight
But one look at you and dude says goodnight
Can’t get ’em to stick around long enough to tease or tame
You got no-body Ashe, it’s a cryin’ shame
Got your pink hair and all them clothes
Sorry Ashe you still lose out to all them hoes
Plenty others to choose, blonde, blue and red
Think I’ll take my pick from one ’a dem instead
Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck
There’s the cuss for my rap now you’re outta luck
Metal Man will rock your shit, I’ll straight make you a clown
Your friends will have to come pick up the pieces like “officer down”
Tell me again, what was it you were sayin’?
I can’t hear it no more over the beat that I’m playin’
And now I’m a big enough man to make this confession
I still like you Ashe, I’ll turn around in the session
To really try and offer up this truce
Cuz a lyrical game ain’t worth my juice
I think I’ll take your advice and try to go for the steal
Only a matter of time baby ’fore I’m sealin’ the deal
You can try to get away with dodges, dips, and darts
But there ain’t no escapin’ baby I’m the King of Hearts
Now I really think it’s time to bury the hatchet
I’m like a fever girl and you’re gon-na catch it
So it’s the end now, stop tryin’ to taunt me
Come on now Ashe, you know that you want me.”

With the last line, Ander closed the distance between them, barely an inch of separation as he deliberately and teasingly violated her personal space, both challenging and intimate at the same time. Right on cue, the tape ended with the last beat, perfectly coordinated. He looked down his nose at her with a self-satisfied, toothless grin plastered on his face, and the thief smugly cocked an eyebrow as he studied her expression, waiting for the girl’s reaction.
]]> <![CDATA[Just some stuff]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17754 Sun, 05 Aug 2012 21:53:19 +0000 Rose]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17754

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Dale Maxwell, reporter for the Earther Unearther, nodded. As if I’d turn back at this point, he thought. Dale had never wanted to do this story, but times were tough and a man had to eat. It was only ten minutes, but he was still terrified. Super Buu had killed twenty-seven Dante’s Abyss security officers with their own bullets in the space of a few minutes. He hadn’t even been trying. This was a monster who could disperse his body into a liquid state and reform at will, regenerate lost body tissue, manipulate metal and electricity … but that wasn’t the worst part. Dale would never admit it – reality television shows were tasteless enough without the game’s objective being to kill all the other competitors – but he’d been a huge fan of Dante’s Abyss. And he’d seen the look on Buu’s eyes when he fought. When he killed. There was no doubt about it – Super Buu was out of his Kai-damned mind.

Three guards accompanied Dale down the hallway. Though the prison was well-kept, with white floors and walls, it didn’t help the atmosphere. In fact, given the tension in the air, it just seemed to make the situation that much more ridiculous and contrived. He could feel the unspoken aggression radiating from the guards. As a self-admitted geek, Dale was natural prey for these kinds of people, and no doubt they were in loath at the idea of having to look after this weedy reporter.

As though reading his thoughts, one of the guards spoke up. “I suppose you know all about this guy.”

“We-well, just what everybody else knows. I mean, it’s not like there are any secrets left.”

“Then we won’t have to tell you to watch yourself.”

Dale tried to laugh offhandedly and failed, his voice cracking like a pubescent boy’s. “Right. Though, I mean …” he searched for the right words, painfully aware of the guard’s expressionless but plainly judging eyes. “… He’s safe right now, right? I mean, you guys have a power suppressor on him.”

“Didn’t stop him killing Chimes.” It was a different guard now, and this one was older. When he spoke, he continued to look ahead blankly, as though he was merely thinking aloud. “Didn’t stop him initiating a riot that ended with two guards and eleven prisoners dead.”

“That’s only ‘cause they see him as some kind of hero,” said the third guard, sneering. “The guy just keeps on getting dumber and angrier. That’s what happens when you hang around with cons.”

Dale felt an urge to point out the irony, but it was short-lived. “I’m surprised Lord Vine consented to train someone like him.”

“Maybe he thought he could control him. But then, those Saiyans are crazy too. All Lord Vine did was teach him how to control metal, and look how that turned out. If you ask me, we outta wipe out those Saiyans, go back to how it was before Earth became the fuckin’ gladiator ring for super-freaks.”

“Easy on, Gary,” said the first guard. “My brother’s wife is half Saiyan.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be mixing up genes.” Before the other guard could retort, he continued, “All I’m sayin’ is that Buu got Saiyan genes mixed in with whatever the hell he was made out of, and that’s what makes him such a bloodlusted idiot. Everyone knows that Saiyans bring trouble, and maybe if--”

“That’s enough of that,” growled the older guard. “We’re dealing with a dangerous convict, I don’t want you two arguing whilst you’re supposed to be watching the target.”

“It’s not us who should be worried.”

For a moment, Dale thought he saw a couple of the guards smirk, and quickly wiped the look of concern off his face. They’re just trying to scare me, he thought. But he didn’t fully believe himself. Buu had done all those things. And what was more he could tell that, hide it as they might, the guards feared Super Buu too. As they walked deeper into the prison, Dale could feel an air of dread descending upon them. When the tension became almost unbearable, he knew they had arrived.

The older guard peered through the small flap in the door of the Security Housing Unit – ‘the hole’, the prisoners called it – before taking a small key out from the ring on his pocket. He unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Prisoner 842! The man from the newspaper is here to speak to you.”

Dale peered in. He didn’t see Buu at first, the only light fixtures being on their side of the translucent stasis barrier. But as he stepped in, a figure moved closer to the barrier. Dale breathed in. Seeing this creature on TV was one thing, but in the flesh – if you could call it that – the experience was surreal. Buu’s rose-coloured skin was smooth and rounded, like that of a clay doll. He was hairless, though a forelock of whatever material he was made of dangled from the back of his head like an overweight antennae. His mouth was a slit, his ears were dark holes and he had no nose to speak of. But his eyes were anything but featureless. Red and black, they burned through the stasis barrier and straight into those of Dale.

“About fucking time,” came a rasp.

The older guard shook his head and turned to Dale. “He’s yours. Good luck.”

Dale looked at the monster before him and began to realise just how ridiculous the idea of the interview had been – why the guards had mocked him under their breath. But he was here now. Clicking down the ‘record’ button on his microphone, he extended it to the barrier that separated him and Buu. “My name is Dale Maxwell, reporter for the Earther Unearther. We’re … uh, very grateful for the opportunity to talk to you here today-”

“I didn’t agree to this for the sake of your little ‘news-paper’,” said the golem. “In fact, if you’ve got any questions you may as well forget ‘em now. But I’ve got a better story for you.”

“Here we go …” muttered one of the prison officers.

Dale wrung his hands, once more cursing his idiocy at having accepted this interview. What choice do I have? “I mean … if it’s that or nothing, then I suppose … well …”

“Fantastic,” said the monster. “I expect you know all about my history and all that shit, right?”

“You’re a construct. Your creator, Bibidi, was an ex-WANG member who …”

The monster burst out laughing. “WANG?”

“Um … the Wizarding Alliance for a New Galaxy. Bibidi belonged to it. You didn’t know?”

Buu shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck about his old job. Fact is, he’s a piece of shit who made me to be his ‘ultimate weapon’. For sixteen years, he tried to condition me into a crazy, violent asshole.”

“Did it work?”

“NO!” exclaimed Buu. “I mean … I suppose it had some effect.”

“According to the reports given by the mayor of West City, he was the source of a sonic disturbance a few years back, and you killed him at that point.”

“Well … that’s what I thought at the time.” Buu’s fists were clenched at his sides. “But the truth is, he faked his death.”

“Faked it? The autopsy report after his hidden laboratory was uncovered showed that it was his body. Genetic match.”

“You don’t know Bibidi!” exclaimed Buu. “He always takes account of every possibility, every variable! You think I could just walk into his lab and kill him so easy? It was a trick, dumbass!”

“Calm down, 842!” barked the older guard. “Or we’ll terminate this interview and give you another week in here!”

“Look, I’m trying to do a fucking interview in here.” Buu threw his hands up. “Will you just give me some fucking space? Jesus.”

The guards looked at each other, then shook their heads in collective resignation.

“Right, what was I saying?” Buu frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Bibidi. He wanted me to be invincible, but not so invincible I could do whatever I wanted. He already made that mistake with my brother.”

Dale leaned forward. “You mean Kid Buu?”

Super Buu grinned. “You know him, huh? Crazy bastard.” His mouth sank back to its normal scowl. “Kid hated me ‘cause I was Bibidi’s pet creation. But he had the better deal, if you ask me.” The majin tapped his head. “Bibidi gave me a bigger brain … but he also gave me a fuckoff vulnerability to his mind control. He’s a telepath, you know? And wherever I go, he can read my mind. I tried going to planet Vegeta … thought I might even be safe from him in here.” He laughed, but did not smile.

Dale, seeing another opening, blurted out: “But what good would controlling your mind be if you’re in here?”

Buu laughed again, this time more harshly. “Me being in here just makes his job easier. This is perfect for Bibidi. I can’t do anything too crazy, and he’s got all the time in the world to chip away at my mind.”

“But still, I mean … what would be the point of him taking over your mind, if you’re trapped in here?”

“Are you kidding?” Buu snorted. “Bibidi could bust this place wide open.”

“Nobody gets in or out of here without us,” came the flat tone of the older guard. Not dumb prisoners, and not dead wizards.”

“Does ‘us’ include prison guards possessed by Bibidi?”

The warden shook his head. “You’re deluded. Do you really expect anyone to believe that?”

“If you don’t, you’re all as good as dead.”

“You’re not going to get out of here by making threats, 842,” spat the guard. “You’re a mass murderer.”

“If you think the things I’ve done before are bad, you should wait until Bibidi takes control of me.”

The guard stepped forward and looked at Buu in the eyes. “You know what, 842? I will. We’ll see if it happens before you rot to death in here.”

“You’re dead,” Buu repeated. His voice was level.

With a look of disgust, the guard turned to the door. “We’re done. Come on.”

Dale stepped after the warden, and then hesitated, looking back at the pink monster. He’s not lying, thought the reporter. He really does believe it. No doubt about it, Buu was insane. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t spin a good story.

“Hope you get your paycheck,” murmured Buu.

Dale nodded in silent bewilderment before stepping out of the door.

* * * * *
Gem City. That was the name of the experimental prison facility, built to hold the rising number of convicts with superhuman abilities. There were almost one hundred prisoners contained here, less than half of whom were human: the rest were a smorgasbord of species from planets across the quadrant. But they all had one thing in common: power. To be more exact, power lost. On the outside, they were gods; on the inside, they were just animals. As each day passed the same as the last, they slowly began to forget who they’d been on the outside, until they could scarcely remember why they were here in the first place.

“Gimme a fuckin’ cigarette, Donny!”

“I’ve only got two left, Buu, fuck off!”

The two prisoners wrestled in the middle of the floor. Buu had an arm wrapped around the neck of a green-scaled, crocodilian-looking creature – his other hand was grabbing for the packet of cigarettes in his opponent’s digits.

“I just got out of the hole and I’m–” Buu struggled to keep his footing. “–A little fuckin’ stressed out, okay? Just gimme one fuckin’ cigarette!”

“Get off me, you cloaca!” The lizard man choked on a puff of smoke, eyes bulging.

“Buu! When did you get out?”

The majin looked up. “Oh, Rison!” He let go of the lizard man, who gasped and immediately resumed smoking his cigarette. “Let’s go, smokes.”

The balding human took out a packet of cigarettes from his underwear and handed it over. On the outside, Harold Rison been a powerful telekinetic, and had never needed to use his physical strength for much. Of course, that had all changed after he’d been convicted of raping and murdering eighteen women. Buu, to whom rape was foreign a concept as sexual attraction, did not understand the implications of this and gave it little thought. But he did understand the need for alcohol and cigarettes, so in exchange for plenty of those he protected the man from other convicts. Very few of the prisoners would dare to trouble Buu, and most of them had no desire: Dante’s Abyss was popular within the prison, and it was there he’d proven to the world both his exceptional abilities and entertainment value.

Buu took out two cigarettes, lit them, and took a long drag before blowing smoke out of his vents. “Got any juice?”

“Buu … look at my face,” hissed Rison through clenched teeth. “You’ve been in the hole for a week. I haven’t had a chance to make any alcohol, no.”

“A few little fuckin’ bruises.” Buu waved his cigarettes offhandedly at the human’s face.

“Maybe you should lay off the drink a bit, then you could stay out of the hole for more than a month.”

“Hey, did I ask for your fucking opinion!?” Buu took a step towards the man, to the point where he had to look almost directly down to see him. “Shut the fuck up or you’ll have a few more bruises to whine about.”

Rison muttered an apology, then turned to follow his guardian as the monster strode off into the common room.

Just like the rest of the prison, the walls in here were plain white. There were chairs set up around the room where prisoners sat playing cards, reading books or watching the TV suspended up against the north wall. Guards watched from the corners and the balconies above, aided by video cameras whose glass eyes winked every time they moved. Seeing them, Buu scowled. One day, he thought, I’ll have my powers back … and I’ll make you pay.

The realisation had been a surprising one, but it wasn’t actually his strength that he missed the most. He’d always fallen back on his power; up until now, it was the one thing which had never deserted him. But no, there were worse things to lose.

Caring about things. For the longest time, Buu had never cared about much besides food, power, fun and freedom. But time had changed that. The first time he’d felt it was during the first Dante’s Abyss, after the death of his best friend Seventeen. He’d been the leader then, the only one left to look after Violet and Kid. At first, the feeling of responsibility had just been a weight on his shoulders. But it had empowered him, too. Being responsible for something made it seem like his actions … meant something.

They’d taken away something worse than his power or his freedom. They’d taken away his purpose. What difference did he make now, segregated from the ones he loved and everything that mattered to him? Nothing.

Purpose had been the trigger for his Spiritken, as long as it had taken for him to realise it. He missed Spiritken. The feeling of clarity when he transformed … it was like all his peripheral vision had been taken away, allowing him to focus only on what really mattered. It was only during Spiritken that he felt truly calm and in control.

Alcohol allowed him to experience a dim emulation of it. All the confidence and surety, but without the purpose. When he was drunk he didn’t care about anything, but that was the point. Dwelling on the things he loved was pointless when he was cut off from them – all it did was put him in a worse mood, fill his heart with bitterness, regret and frustration. And all that did was make him more vulnerable to him.

Bibidi. His ‘Majin’ spell was a form of mind control that amplified the abilities of the possessed. Once a person was branded with it, escape was nearly impossible. But it only worked if the victim’s heart was filled with dark thoughts and intent. Buu often wondered, despite trying not to, if he’d already reached that point, and Bibidi was just waiting for him to fall even further to maximise the spell’s effectiveness … or whether there was something still buried deep inside himself that anchored him to his free will. If there was, it would be holding on by a thread.

And it was all thanks to one little gadget. Buu glared down at the strap covering his midriff, which looked almost like a giant wristwatch. He didn’t know the specifics – why, after all, give the key to the lock – only that ever since he’d woken up with it attached to him, he couldn’t feel his ki. He supposed this was what most humans felt like. If only it could turn him completely human, then at least he’d be able to kill himself and escape. But, as he knew from experience, the only way to do that was to completely destroy his own body, or exhaust his life energy completely. Not even the power suppressor could change that.

The monster scraped his nails across his bald scalp, using the pain to wake himself up. He couldn’t dwell on the negatives. But with nothing else to do, that was easier said than done.

Buu scanned the common room for faces. Someone here had to be able to get him some alcohol. He much preferred his own company to the other inmates – they were all as bored and low as he was, and only served to remind him of his situation – but he had no choice.

“Perry,” he rumbled. “Mind if I sit in?”

The blue-skinned being looked up from his cards. “Huh … sure. What about your bitch?”

“Nah.”]]>

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Dale Maxwell, reporter for the Earther Unearther, nodded. As if I’d turn back at this point, he thought. Dale had never wanted to do this story, but times were tough and a man had to eat. It was only ten minutes, but he was still terrified. Super Buu had killed twenty-seven Dante’s Abyss security officers with their own bullets in the space of a few minutes. He hadn’t even been trying. This was a monster who could disperse his body into a liquid state and reform at will, regenerate lost body tissue, manipulate metal and electricity … but that wasn’t the worst part. Dale would never admit it – reality television shows were tasteless enough without the game’s objective being to kill all the other competitors – but he’d been a huge fan of Dante’s Abyss. And he’d seen the look on Buu’s eyes when he fought. When he killed. There was no doubt about it – Super Buu was out of his Kai-damned mind.

Three guards accompanied Dale down the hallway. Though the prison was well-kept, with white floors and walls, it didn’t help the atmosphere. In fact, given the tension in the air, it just seemed to make the situation that much more ridiculous and contrived. He could feel the unspoken aggression radiating from the guards. As a self-admitted geek, Dale was natural prey for these kinds of people, and no doubt they were in loath at the idea of having to look after this weedy reporter.

As though reading his thoughts, one of the guards spoke up. “I suppose you know all about this guy.”

“We-well, just what everybody else knows. I mean, it’s not like there are any secrets left.”

“Then we won’t have to tell you to watch yourself.”

Dale tried to laugh offhandedly and failed, his voice cracking like a pubescent boy’s. “Right. Though, I mean …” he searched for the right words, painfully aware of the guard’s expressionless but plainly judging eyes. “… He’s safe right now, right? I mean, you guys have a power suppressor on him.”

“Didn’t stop him killing Chimes.” It was a different guard now, and this one was older. When he spoke, he continued to look ahead blankly, as though he was merely thinking aloud. “Didn’t stop him initiating a riot that ended with two guards and eleven prisoners dead.”

“That’s only ‘cause they see him as some kind of hero,” said the third guard, sneering. “The guy just keeps on getting dumber and angrier. That’s what happens when you hang around with cons.”

Dale felt an urge to point out the irony, but it was short-lived. “I’m surprised Lord Vine consented to train someone like him.”

“Maybe he thought he could control him. But then, those Saiyans are crazy too. All Lord Vine did was teach him how to control metal, and look how that turned out. If you ask me, we outta wipe out those Saiyans, go back to how it was before Earth became the fuckin’ gladiator ring for super-freaks.”

“Easy on, Gary,” said the first guard. “My brother’s wife is half Saiyan.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be mixing up genes.” Before the other guard could retort, he continued, “All I’m sayin’ is that Buu got Saiyan genes mixed in with whatever the hell he was made out of, and that’s what makes him such a bloodlusted idiot. Everyone knows that Saiyans bring trouble, and maybe if--”

“That’s enough of that,” growled the older guard. “We’re dealing with a dangerous convict, I don’t want you two arguing whilst you’re supposed to be watching the target.”

“It’s not us who should be worried.”

For a moment, Dale thought he saw a couple of the guards smirk, and quickly wiped the look of concern off his face. They’re just trying to scare me, he thought. But he didn’t fully believe himself. Buu had done all those things. And what was more he could tell that, hide it as they might, the guards feared Super Buu too. As they walked deeper into the prison, Dale could feel an air of dread descending upon them. When the tension became almost unbearable, he knew they had arrived.

The older guard peered through the small flap in the door of the Security Housing Unit – ‘the hole’, the prisoners called it – before taking a small key out from the ring on his pocket. He unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Prisoner 842! The man from the newspaper is here to speak to you.”

Dale peered in. He didn’t see Buu at first, the only light fixtures being on their side of the translucent stasis barrier. But as he stepped in, a figure moved closer to the barrier. Dale breathed in. Seeing this creature on TV was one thing, but in the flesh – if you could call it that – the experience was surreal. Buu’s rose-coloured skin was smooth and rounded, like that of a clay doll. He was hairless, though a forelock of whatever material he was made of dangled from the back of his head like an overweight antennae. His mouth was a slit, his ears were dark holes and he had no nose to speak of. But his eyes were anything but featureless. Red and black, they burned through the stasis barrier and straight into those of Dale.

“About fucking time,” came a rasp.

The older guard shook his head and turned to Dale. “He’s yours. Good luck.”

Dale looked at the monster before him and began to realise just how ridiculous the idea of the interview had been – why the guards had mocked him under their breath. But he was here now. Clicking down the ‘record’ button on his microphone, he extended it to the barrier that separated him and Buu. “My name is Dale Maxwell, reporter for the Earther Unearther. We’re … uh, very grateful for the opportunity to talk to you here today-”

“I didn’t agree to this for the sake of your little ‘news-paper’,” said the golem. “In fact, if you’ve got any questions you may as well forget ‘em now. But I’ve got a better story for you.”

“Here we go …” muttered one of the prison officers.

Dale wrung his hands, once more cursing his idiocy at having accepted this interview. What choice do I have? “I mean … if it’s that or nothing, then I suppose … well …”

“Fantastic,” said the monster. “I expect you know all about my history and all that shit, right?”

“You’re a construct. Your creator, Bibidi, was an ex-WANG member who …”

The monster burst out laughing. “WANG?”

“Um … the Wizarding Alliance for a New Galaxy. Bibidi belonged to it. You didn’t know?”

Buu shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck about his old job. Fact is, he’s a piece of shit who made me to be his ‘ultimate weapon’. For sixteen years, he tried to condition me into a crazy, violent asshole.”

“Did it work?”

“NO!” exclaimed Buu. “I mean … I suppose it had some effect.”

“According to the reports given by the mayor of West City, he was the source of a sonic disturbance a few years back, and you killed him at that point.”

“Well … that’s what I thought at the time.” Buu’s fists were clenched at his sides. “But the truth is, he faked his death.”

“Faked it? The autopsy report after his hidden laboratory was uncovered showed that it was his body. Genetic match.”

“You don’t know Bibidi!” exclaimed Buu. “He always takes account of every possibility, every variable! You think I could just walk into his lab and kill him so easy? It was a trick, dumbass!”

“Calm down, 842!” barked the older guard. “Or we’ll terminate this interview and give you another week in here!”

“Look, I’m trying to do a fucking interview in here.” Buu threw his hands up. “Will you just give me some fucking space? Jesus.”

The guards looked at each other, then shook their heads in collective resignation.

“Right, what was I saying?” Buu frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Bibidi. He wanted me to be invincible, but not so invincible I could do whatever I wanted. He already made that mistake with my brother.”

Dale leaned forward. “You mean Kid Buu?”

Super Buu grinned. “You know him, huh? Crazy bastard.” His mouth sank back to its normal scowl. “Kid hated me ‘cause I was Bibidi’s pet creation. But he had the better deal, if you ask me.” The majin tapped his head. “Bibidi gave me a bigger brain … but he also gave me a fuckoff vulnerability to his mind control. He’s a telepath, you know? And wherever I go, he can read my mind. I tried going to planet Vegeta … thought I might even be safe from him in here.” He laughed, but did not smile.

Dale, seeing another opening, blurted out: “But what good would controlling your mind be if you’re in here?”

Buu laughed again, this time more harshly. “Me being in here just makes his job easier. This is perfect for Bibidi. I can’t do anything too crazy, and he’s got all the time in the world to chip away at my mind.”

“But still, I mean … what would be the point of him taking over your mind, if you’re trapped in here?”

“Are you kidding?” Buu snorted. “Bibidi could bust this place wide open.”

“Nobody gets in or out of here without us,” came the flat tone of the older guard. Not dumb prisoners, and not dead wizards.”

“Does ‘us’ include prison guards possessed by Bibidi?”

The warden shook his head. “You’re deluded. Do you really expect anyone to believe that?”

“If you don’t, you’re all as good as dead.”

“You’re not going to get out of here by making threats, 842,” spat the guard. “You’re a mass murderer.”

“If you think the things I’ve done before are bad, you should wait until Bibidi takes control of me.”

The guard stepped forward and looked at Buu in the eyes. “You know what, 842? I will. We’ll see if it happens before you rot to death in here.”

“You’re dead,” Buu repeated. His voice was level.

With a look of disgust, the guard turned to the door. “We’re done. Come on.”

Dale stepped after the warden, and then hesitated, looking back at the pink monster. He’s not lying, thought the reporter. He really does believe it. No doubt about it, Buu was insane. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t spin a good story.

“Hope you get your paycheck,” murmured Buu.

Dale nodded in silent bewilderment before stepping out of the door.

* * * * *
Gem City. That was the name of the experimental prison facility, built to hold the rising number of convicts with superhuman abilities. There were almost one hundred prisoners contained here, less than half of whom were human: the rest were a smorgasbord of species from planets across the quadrant. But they all had one thing in common: power. To be more exact, power lost. On the outside, they were gods; on the inside, they were just animals. As each day passed the same as the last, they slowly began to forget who they’d been on the outside, until they could scarcely remember why they were here in the first place.

“Gimme a fuckin’ cigarette, Donny!”

“I’ve only got two left, Buu, fuck off!”

The two prisoners wrestled in the middle of the floor. Buu had an arm wrapped around the neck of a green-scaled, crocodilian-looking creature – his other hand was grabbing for the packet of cigarettes in his opponent’s digits.

“I just got out of the hole and I’m–” Buu struggled to keep his footing. “–A little fuckin’ stressed out, okay? Just gimme one fuckin’ cigarette!”

“Get off me, you cloaca!” The lizard man choked on a puff of smoke, eyes bulging.

“Buu! When did you get out?”

The majin looked up. “Oh, Rison!” He let go of the lizard man, who gasped and immediately resumed smoking his cigarette. “Let’s go, smokes.”

The balding human took out a packet of cigarettes from his underwear and handed it over. On the outside, Harold Rison been a powerful telekinetic, and had never needed to use his physical strength for much. Of course, that had all changed after he’d been convicted of raping and murdering eighteen women. Buu, to whom rape was foreign a concept as sexual attraction, did not understand the implications of this and gave it little thought. But he did understand the need for alcohol and cigarettes, so in exchange for plenty of those he protected the man from other convicts. Very few of the prisoners would dare to trouble Buu, and most of them had no desire: Dante’s Abyss was popular within the prison, and it was there he’d proven to the world both his exceptional abilities and entertainment value.

Buu took out two cigarettes, lit them, and took a long drag before blowing smoke out of his vents. “Got any juice?”

“Buu … look at my face,” hissed Rison through clenched teeth. “You’ve been in the hole for a week. I haven’t had a chance to make any alcohol, no.”

“A few little fuckin’ bruises.” Buu waved his cigarettes offhandedly at the human’s face.

“Maybe you should lay off the drink a bit, then you could stay out of the hole for more than a month.”

“Hey, did I ask for your fucking opinion!?” Buu took a step towards the man, to the point where he had to look almost directly down to see him. “Shut the fuck up or you’ll have a few more bruises to whine about.”

Rison muttered an apology, then turned to follow his guardian as the monster strode off into the common room.

Just like the rest of the prison, the walls in here were plain white. There were chairs set up around the room where prisoners sat playing cards, reading books or watching the TV suspended up against the north wall. Guards watched from the corners and the balconies above, aided by video cameras whose glass eyes winked every time they moved. Seeing them, Buu scowled. One day, he thought, I’ll have my powers back … and I’ll make you pay.

The realisation had been a surprising one, but it wasn’t actually his strength that he missed the most. He’d always fallen back on his power; up until now, it was the one thing which had never deserted him. But no, there were worse things to lose.

Caring about things. For the longest time, Buu had never cared about much besides food, power, fun and freedom. But time had changed that. The first time he’d felt it was during the first Dante’s Abyss, after the death of his best friend Seventeen. He’d been the leader then, the only one left to look after Violet and Kid. At first, the feeling of responsibility had just been a weight on his shoulders. But it had empowered him, too. Being responsible for something made it seem like his actions … meant something.

They’d taken away something worse than his power or his freedom. They’d taken away his purpose. What difference did he make now, segregated from the ones he loved and everything that mattered to him? Nothing.

Purpose had been the trigger for his Spiritken, as long as it had taken for him to realise it. He missed Spiritken. The feeling of clarity when he transformed … it was like all his peripheral vision had been taken away, allowing him to focus only on what really mattered. It was only during Spiritken that he felt truly calm and in control.

Alcohol allowed him to experience a dim emulation of it. All the confidence and surety, but without the purpose. When he was drunk he didn’t care about anything, but that was the point. Dwelling on the things he loved was pointless when he was cut off from them – all it did was put him in a worse mood, fill his heart with bitterness, regret and frustration. And all that did was make him more vulnerable to him.

Bibidi. His ‘Majin’ spell was a form of mind control that amplified the abilities of the possessed. Once a person was branded with it, escape was nearly impossible. But it only worked if the victim’s heart was filled with dark thoughts and intent. Buu often wondered, despite trying not to, if he’d already reached that point, and Bibidi was just waiting for him to fall even further to maximise the spell’s effectiveness … or whether there was something still buried deep inside himself that anchored him to his free will. If there was, it would be holding on by a thread.

And it was all thanks to one little gadget. Buu glared down at the strap covering his midriff, which looked almost like a giant wristwatch. He didn’t know the specifics – why, after all, give the key to the lock – only that ever since he’d woken up with it attached to him, he couldn’t feel his ki. He supposed this was what most humans felt like. If only it could turn him completely human, then at least he’d be able to kill himself and escape. But, as he knew from experience, the only way to do that was to completely destroy his own body, or exhaust his life energy completely. Not even the power suppressor could change that.

The monster scraped his nails across his bald scalp, using the pain to wake himself up. He couldn’t dwell on the negatives. But with nothing else to do, that was easier said than done.

Buu scanned the common room for faces. Someone here had to be able to get him some alcohol. He much preferred his own company to the other inmates – they were all as bored and low as he was, and only served to remind him of his situation – but he had no choice.

“Perry,” he rumbled. “Mind if I sit in?”

The blue-skinned being looked up from his cards. “Huh … sure. What about your bitch?”

“Nah.”]]> <![CDATA[Character Concepts and Story Ideas]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17611 Thu, 15 Mar 2012 02:54:19 +0000 Undrask]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17611
SO. Here's the space to just post long, detailed descriptions about characters, character interactions, character ideas, cut scenes that have no connection to anything. Hell, put fan fiction here. Put characters you want in pre-existing games. Do whatever.

Just take the creative flotsam and jetsam from the briny wash between your ears and dump it here.

NOTE: Don't bitch if somebody "steals" an idea of yours and actually uses it to DO something. Take it as a compliment lawl]]>
SO. Here's the space to just post long, detailed descriptions about characters, character interactions, character ideas, cut scenes that have no connection to anything. Hell, put fan fiction here. Put characters you want in pre-existing games. Do whatever.

Just take the creative flotsam and jetsam from the briny wash between your ears and dump it here.

NOTE: Don't bitch if somebody "steals" an idea of yours and actually uses it to DO something. Take it as a compliment lawl]]> <![CDATA[Trials of Blood (Sword's Honor Trilogy - Kickstarter)]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17607 Mon, 12 Mar 2012 23:17:36 +0000 Sammah]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17607
In 2001, I created a play by post RPG called Sword’s Honor which ran side by side with Chubbs, with much of the player base being shared between the two. In 2005, it took a face lift to become Sword’s Honor: Another Era. It didn’t see the same success as Chubbs has had, but lived a very healthy life nonetheless. A few years ago it ended up going stale, with very few people still Roleplaying in the forums.

In Nov 2011, I completed my contract with the Marines and decided to pursue what I’ve always wanted to: Game Development and Writing. My brothers and I are currently developing a few games for mobile devices, and in the mean time, I’ve been writing my first Novel. The Novel is the first part of a Fantasy Trilogy series, based in the world of Sword’s Honor, and meant to continue the spirit of the game, enabling it to live on.

The first novel in the series, Trials of Blood, is just about complete, standing at over 100,000 words and I have been seeking the self-publishing route in order to maintain the story and characters that the Novel was intended to have. I didn’t want outside sources to mess with the story or history that Sword’s Honor currently holds.

I have placed up a project with Kickstarter, seeing their recent success, and have placed up a variety of rewards for people who wish to pledge money towards the project. Some rewards include: eBook version, signed Paperback edition, naming a city in future books, creating your own Character that shows up in future books, and even prints of the book’s cover art, which if the project reaches the funds requested, will be created by Mike “Daarken” Lim. Daarken is a renowned Fantasy/Game Industry artist with quite a large and impressive portfolio under his belt, having worked with some of the largest names in the industry. You can see his portfolio at http://www.daarken.com.

If you would like to read more about Trials of Blood and visit the project page, I have included the link below. I wanted to share this project here with you all since everyone here enjoys the art of writing, gaming, and is part of the reason why this book came to be. So if you are able to, please come and help fund this project, but if you can’t, a simple Facebook “Like” or Twitter announcement could always help get the word around. I appreciate it.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1287...f=category

Sgt Dib (Sammah)]]>
In 2001, I created a play by post RPG called Sword’s Honor which ran side by side with Chubbs, with much of the player base being shared between the two. In 2005, it took a face lift to become Sword’s Honor: Another Era. It didn’t see the same success as Chubbs has had, but lived a very healthy life nonetheless. A few years ago it ended up going stale, with very few people still Roleplaying in the forums.

In Nov 2011, I completed my contract with the Marines and decided to pursue what I’ve always wanted to: Game Development and Writing. My brothers and I are currently developing a few games for mobile devices, and in the mean time, I’ve been writing my first Novel. The Novel is the first part of a Fantasy Trilogy series, based in the world of Sword’s Honor, and meant to continue the spirit of the game, enabling it to live on.

The first novel in the series, Trials of Blood, is just about complete, standing at over 100,000 words and I have been seeking the self-publishing route in order to maintain the story and characters that the Novel was intended to have. I didn’t want outside sources to mess with the story or history that Sword’s Honor currently holds.

I have placed up a project with Kickstarter, seeing their recent success, and have placed up a variety of rewards for people who wish to pledge money towards the project. Some rewards include: eBook version, signed Paperback edition, naming a city in future books, creating your own Character that shows up in future books, and even prints of the book’s cover art, which if the project reaches the funds requested, will be created by Mike “Daarken” Lim. Daarken is a renowned Fantasy/Game Industry artist with quite a large and impressive portfolio under his belt, having worked with some of the largest names in the industry. You can see his portfolio at http://www.daarken.com.

If you would like to read more about Trials of Blood and visit the project page, I have included the link below. I wanted to share this project here with you all since everyone here enjoys the art of writing, gaming, and is part of the reason why this book came to be. So if you are able to, please come and help fund this project, but if you can’t, a simple Facebook “Like” or Twitter announcement could always help get the word around. I appreciate it.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1287...f=category

Sgt Dib (Sammah)]]> <![CDATA[Vi's Adventures in Photoshop]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17595 Thu, 08 Mar 2012 09:20:12 +0000 Violet]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17595
However, I've made a resolution this year to create one piece of art, no matter how shitty, every month for this year. Originally, they were all supposed to be connected somehow, but I haven't quite done that yet. My March installment is probably going to be a nostalgic piece, involving two canon characters from this RPG. I want to give ya'll a preview of the really really rough form of one of the characters, even though I know I should wait, I wanted to share the pride I'm feeling at how this is turning out. I haven't done much in the way of digital painting, and this is one of the very few I've done without a physical pencil/paper starter with ink outline. This is pure photoshop and my Wacom Bamboo Fun tablet.


(This is crazy rough, so the colors and lines are going to be very shitty, but the concept is still the same. This has also been cropped and shrunk to about a quarter of its original size.)

[Image: buusnapshot.jpg]

I'll edit in updates as I progress. Smile]]>
However, I've made a resolution this year to create one piece of art, no matter how shitty, every month for this year. Originally, they were all supposed to be connected somehow, but I haven't quite done that yet. My March installment is probably going to be a nostalgic piece, involving two canon characters from this RPG. I want to give ya'll a preview of the really really rough form of one of the characters, even though I know I should wait, I wanted to share the pride I'm feeling at how this is turning out. I haven't done much in the way of digital painting, and this is one of the very few I've done without a physical pencil/paper starter with ink outline. This is pure photoshop and my Wacom Bamboo Fun tablet.


(This is crazy rough, so the colors and lines are going to be very shitty, but the concept is still the same. This has also been cropped and shrunk to about a quarter of its original size.)

[Image: buusnapshot.jpg]

I'll edit in updates as I progress. Smile]]> <![CDATA[Avatar help]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17566 Thu, 23 Feb 2012 23:56:34 +0000 King B]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17566 this image, preferably the face and the crossed arms included. If anyone would kindly take this on, and just put either the forum background color OR make a completely sexy avatar that has a border of some kind around it. I would be extremely appreciative. Thanks in advance!]]> this image, preferably the face and the crossed arms included. If anyone would kindly take this on, and just put either the forum background color OR make a completely sexy avatar that has a border of some kind around it. I would be extremely appreciative. Thanks in advance!]]> <![CDATA[Photography]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17503 Sat, 18 Feb 2012 05:57:57 +0000 Waffuru]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17503
Here is my flickr with the photos I've liked well enough to put up. I mostly stand too close to cliff edges and driving too far to not ignore safety warnings.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/34332371@N03/]]>
Here is my flickr with the photos I've liked well enough to put up. I mostly stand too close to cliff edges and driving too far to not ignore safety warnings.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/34332371@N03/]]> <![CDATA[I wrote a poem]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17479 Wed, 08 Feb 2012 19:18:32 +0000 John Doe]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17479
A good poem is like a first-rate fart
because it will resonate with you long after you've heard it.
But to define greatness is like getting expelled
from stool; it's easy to do but it doesn't mean you passed.

Silent but deadly writers can vent
ideas through your thoughts like crop dusting
methane over desert varnish. However,
loud and proud poets often piffle love puffs and toot
trumpets that sound like stale wind.

Judgment is reserved
for the surprised and flabbergassed. An audience of
hissers and hangers spouting guano-talk is
worth more than the moon beams and morning thunder
poets gift themselves. The worst critic for your work
is your partiality, because the quibble you fuss and frolic around
sounds best to you. But the truth is: it stinks.]]>
A good poem is like a first-rate fart
because it will resonate with you long after you've heard it.
But to define greatness is like getting expelled
from stool; it's easy to do but it doesn't mean you passed.

Silent but deadly writers can vent
ideas through your thoughts like crop dusting
methane over desert varnish. However,
loud and proud poets often piffle love puffs and toot
trumpets that sound like stale wind.

Judgment is reserved
for the surprised and flabbergassed. An audience of
hissers and hangers spouting guano-talk is
worth more than the moon beams and morning thunder
poets gift themselves. The worst critic for your work
is your partiality, because the quibble you fuss and frolic around
sounds best to you. But the truth is: it stinks.]]> <![CDATA[Low-Fantasy Short-Term RP]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17444 Thu, 26 Jan 2012 10:20:39 +0000 Piper Juunanagou]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17444
But I want to create a grungy, forlorn low-fantasy world where there will be vague plot-lines that involve whoever wants to take part. I love Chubbs, and my favorite type of writing is the bitter, dark, 'realistic' stuff. I think that fantasy is a vague enough category that people would be interested. These will be short-term. There will be no stats or anythin like that. Just characters. They'll range from a week or, idda know, a month? Then again, this is Chubbs, so they may just last as long as interest holds. As the stories will be stand-alone (yet set in the same 'universe,' possibly at different times?), character can and will probably die at some point. Or maybe they'll live and reappear again, who knows.

tl;dr (fuck you, read it) : Kind of like an Elder Scrolls game (easiest example to think of) formatted like a pen-and-paper campaign without all the numbers that I hate. Once I'm done with all my reading for the week, I will make more coherent thoughts.]]>
But I want to create a grungy, forlorn low-fantasy world where there will be vague plot-lines that involve whoever wants to take part. I love Chubbs, and my favorite type of writing is the bitter, dark, 'realistic' stuff. I think that fantasy is a vague enough category that people would be interested. These will be short-term. There will be no stats or anythin like that. Just characters. They'll range from a week or, idda know, a month? Then again, this is Chubbs, so they may just last as long as interest holds. As the stories will be stand-alone (yet set in the same 'universe,' possibly at different times?), character can and will probably die at some point. Or maybe they'll live and reappear again, who knows.

tl;dr (fuck you, read it) : Kind of like an Elder Scrolls game (easiest example to think of) formatted like a pen-and-paper campaign without all the numbers that I hate. Once I'm done with all my reading for the week, I will make more coherent thoughts.]]> <![CDATA[Gundam: Era of Conflict]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17418 Wed, 11 Jan 2012 22:17:19 +0000 Vad]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17418
[Placeholder]

Creators - Vad & Sigfried

General Idea - Coming Soon

The World of This RPG and You as a Player - Coming Soon

Forum Link]]>
[Placeholder]

Creators - Vad & Sigfried

General Idea - Coming Soon

The World of This RPG and You as a Player - Coming Soon

Forum Link]]> <![CDATA[Looking for some graphic work]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17368 Fri, 02 Dec 2011 06:58:39 +0000 Kole T. Merr]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17368
TeeFury, and others, take submissions for T-Shirt designs. I have a hilarious t-shirt design, (at least I think it's hilarious) but I lack the artistic skills to implement it.

If you'd be interested in helping me out with this, let me know!]]>
TeeFury, and others, take submissions for T-Shirt designs. I have a hilarious t-shirt design, (at least I think it's hilarious) but I lack the artistic skills to implement it.

If you'd be interested in helping me out with this, let me know!]]> <![CDATA[Anyria]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17326 Fri, 11 Nov 2011 10:56:30 +0000 Kaden]]> http://alex.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=17326 Statistical Stuff

Chubbs Anyria RPG

Character Sheet (magic-user)
Name: Bill Yen
Race(?): Human
Faction: Ink
Sex: MAAAAAN
Slots: Fire (Racial), Wind, Empty, Empty
Magic:
Tek – 10%
Song – 10%
Ink – 60%
Physical – 20%
Spells:
Flamethrower (1 Wind, 1 Fire)
Flame Barrier (1 Wind, 1 Fire)
Fireball (2 Fire, 1 Wind)
Eruption (2 Fire)
Gale Step (2 Wind)
Inventory: Fire Crystal (1), Earth Crystal (2)

Character Breakdown



Race
The two biggest separations in race are between the non-magic users and the magic-users. Non-magic-users, however, all fall within the same racial umbrella, sharing relatively similar racial features. Magic-users, because of their exposure to raw magic over the years, began to diversify.

In many cases, magic seems to have mutated mages, giving birth to unique features. Sometimes these mutations are extreme, such as a prehensile tail or a pair of wings, while other times it is much more subtle such as having cat-like pupils or an otherwise unnatural hair color. While there seems to be no discernable patterns to how and why these mutations occur, there is another change that has happened over the years that is much more obvious. Each person capable of wielding magic has an affinity for a specific element. This manifests in the game as each person having a permanent “slot” with a crystal their have an affinity with.

Faction
There are four factions in Anyria, each relies, primarily, on a separate method of casting magic. Tek faction uses crystals in their raw form, integrating the crystal itself into mechanisms. Guns, golems, and vehicles are all common sights among Tek users. Song magic uses crystals in a couple of different forms. Song magic has its roots in crushing crystals into a powder, inhaling the powder through the mouth, and then speaking incantations or singing songs to invoke magic. That later evolved into placing crystals into wands, most commonly, and using them as a microphone to create the same effect. Ink magic also involves crushing crystals into a powder, but that powder is then used to create ink. The magic ink can then be used on people, allowing them to be more direct conduits of magic energy, or they can draw glyphs and runes to create magical effects at fixed locations.

(Make less and less sense to me as being important to the character. Replace with “Race”? Or change “Race” to “Faction” or something like that. Don’t need both.)

Slots

Magic is based on the use of elemental crystals. Players must carry around crystals in order to use their magics. Carrying around multiple crystals of a given element (for example, filling three slots with Fire crystals) will allow for stronger spells of that element. Crystals can be purchased by players and then go to their Inventory. The crystals in a character’s slots are considered their “active” crystals and determine which spells a player can cast. If they want to switch crystals, they can do so. This will allow players to either specialize in a specific element, filling their slots with one type of crystal to use very powerful spells, or have a wide variety of spells for any situation.

Players start with a set number of slots (2 or 3) and can purchase more slots as they RP. Slots themselves can be RPed however they want, be it a more elaborate wand, or a tattoo that they continue to add to their body, or simply a bag in which they store crystals to put into machines.

Questions: how many slots someone starts with? At what interval can people change crystals? (I assume crystal swapping mid-fight isn’t something we want people to be able to do; maybe be able to spend XP switch mid-fight?)

Magic

Any magic character can use any of the types of magic. The different stats determine the effectiveness with which a character can use a given type of spells. For example, Bill Yen has 20% Song magic. If Bill and John use the same spell, we’ll call it Song of Fire, and John has 40% song, then, ostensibly, John’s song would be twice as strong as Bill’s.

Some remaining questions: can characters have 0% of a magic? Makes sense if they want to completely give up a style of magic in order to be stronger in the other magics.

Spells

Basically the Anyria version of DBZ’s “Custom Tech” system. A character posts something like “I want to buy the following spell” and the staff relies with what the XP cost will be and what crystals the spells would require. We see some different examples of this in Bill Yen’s spells. His Flamethrower uses a fire crystal to create fire and then a wind crystal to spray it over an area. Fireball uses a fire crystal to create a ball of fire, a fire crystal to cause an explosion, and a wind crystal to propel it to their target. Alternatively, staff could just tell a player how many crystals a spell would cost and Spells could have a fixed cost. Depends on how XP-gain works.

Inventory
This is where people store unused items, such as inactive crystals and relics.

---
Character Sheet (non-magic)

Name: Bill Yen
Race(?): Human
Sex: MAAAAAN
Stats:
Strength– 10%
Speed – 10%
Defense – 60%
Resistance – 20%
Skills:
Stone Skin (Defense)
Fissure Strike (Strength)
Twister (Speed)
Inventory: Shield of Reflecting, Power Stone (2), Gauntlet of Flame (2 Charges)

Differences from Magic-User

Stats
The biggest difference between mages and non-mages is their physical prowess. While mages channel magical energy outward using crystals as catalysts, non-mages are capable of amazing physical feats. They channel their energies inward to give them superhuman strength, speed, and stamina. While mages can this to a small degree, they are nowhere near as physically powerful as non-mages.

Skill
The non-magic form of spells. In this instance we have a character with three skills. Stone Skin would be a defensive skill that steels them against a physical strike (or other form of physical harm, such as a mage hurling a boulder at them), Fissure Strike which attacks a target by hitting the ground hard enough to cause a fissure to shoot outwards, and Twister which strike at multiple targets by spinning at high speed. Each Skill is attached to a Stat just to give a feel for how powerful it is intended to be. This also lets players kind of show how their character fights (a character with a million skills all tied to the same stat should be pretty obvious).

Inventory
Like Mages, non-mages are capable of carrying around items. While this could, potentially, be crystals it wouldn’t make much sense because they can’t use them. There will be, however, Relics available for use that allow non-mages to spend money to mimic magic-like effects. Gauntlet of Flame, for example, can be charged with magical energy, allowing it to shoot fireballs. The Shield of Reflecting turns aside a spell to keep the user safe. A Power Stone might give the user a temporary boost in strength. Some relics will allow for repeated uses, some will be one-time use, some will need to be charged, and other may only let someone use them once over a fixed period of time (one teleport per-fight, for example).]]> Statistical Stuff

Chubbs Anyria RPG

Character Sheet (magic-user)
Name: Bill Yen
Race(?): Human
Faction: Ink
Sex: MAAAAAN
Slots: Fire (Racial), Wind, Empty, Empty
Magic:
Tek – 10%
Song – 10%
Ink – 60%
Physical – 20%
Spells:
Flamethrower (1 Wind, 1 Fire)
Flame Barrier (1 Wind, 1 Fire)
Fireball (2 Fire, 1 Wind)
Eruption (2 Fire)
Gale Step (2 Wind)
Inventory: Fire Crystal (1), Earth Crystal (2)

Character Breakdown



Race
The two biggest separations in race are between the non-magic users and the magic-users. Non-magic-users, however, all fall within the same racial umbrella, sharing relatively similar racial features. Magic-users, because of their exposure to raw magic over the years, began to diversify.

In many cases, magic seems to have mutated mages, giving birth to unique features. Sometimes these mutations are extreme, such as a prehensile tail or a pair of wings, while other times it is much more subtle such as having cat-like pupils or an otherwise unnatural hair color. While there seems to be no discernable patterns to how and why these mutations occur, there is another change that has happened over the years that is much more obvious. Each person capable of wielding magic has an affinity for a specific element. This manifests in the game as each person having a permanent “slot” with a crystal their have an affinity with.

Faction
There are four factions in Anyria, each relies, primarily, on a separate method of casting magic. Tek faction uses crystals in their raw form, integrating the crystal itself into mechanisms. Guns, golems, and vehicles are all common sights among Tek users. Song magic uses crystals in a couple of different forms. Song magic has its roots in crushing crystals into a powder, inhaling the powder through the mouth, and then speaking incantations or singing songs to invoke magic. That later evolved into placing crystals into wands, most commonly, and using them as a microphone to create the same effect. Ink magic also involves crushing crystals into a powder, but that powder is then used to create ink. The magic ink can then be used on people, allowing them to be more direct conduits of magic energy, or they can draw glyphs and runes to create magical effects at fixed locations.

(Make less and less sense to me as being important to the character. Replace with “Race”? Or change “Race” to “Faction” or something like that. Don’t need both.)

Slots

Magic is based on the use of elemental crystals. Players must carry around crystals in order to use their magics. Carrying around multiple crystals of a given element (for example, filling three slots with Fire crystals) will allow for stronger spells of that element. Crystals can be purchased by players and then go to their Inventory. The crystals in a character’s slots are considered their “active” crystals and determine which spells a player can cast. If they want to switch crystals, they can do so. This will allow players to either specialize in a specific element, filling their slots with one type of crystal to use very powerful spells, or have a wide variety of spells for any situation.

Players start with a set number of slots (2 or 3) and can purchase more slots as they RP. Slots themselves can be RPed however they want, be it a more elaborate wand, or a tattoo that they continue to add to their body, or simply a bag in which they store crystals to put into machines.

Questions: how many slots someone starts with? At what interval can people change crystals? (I assume crystal swapping mid-fight isn’t something we want people to be able to do; maybe be able to spend XP switch mid-fight?)

Magic

Any magic character can use any of the types of magic. The different stats determine the effectiveness with which a character can use a given type of spells. For example, Bill Yen has 20% Song magic. If Bill and John use the same spell, we’ll call it Song of Fire, and John has 40% song, then, ostensibly, John’s song would be twice as strong as Bill’s.

Some remaining questions: can characters have 0% of a magic? Makes sense if they want to completely give up a style of magic in order to be stronger in the other magics.

Spells

Basically the Anyria version of DBZ’s “Custom Tech” system. A character posts something like “I want to buy the following spell” and the staff relies with what the XP cost will be and what crystals the spells would require. We see some different examples of this in Bill Yen’s spells. His Flamethrower uses a fire crystal to create fire and then a wind crystal to spray it over an area. Fireball uses a fire crystal to create a ball of fire, a fire crystal to cause an explosion, and a wind crystal to propel it to their target. Alternatively, staff could just tell a player how many crystals a spell would cost and Spells could have a fixed cost. Depends on how XP-gain works.

Inventory
This is where people store unused items, such as inactive crystals and relics.

---
Character Sheet (non-magic)

Name: Bill Yen
Race(?): Human
Sex: MAAAAAN
Stats:
Strength– 10%
Speed – 10%
Defense – 60%
Resistance – 20%
Skills:
Stone Skin (Defense)
Fissure Strike (Strength)
Twister (Speed)
Inventory: Shield of Reflecting, Power Stone (2), Gauntlet of Flame (2 Charges)

Differences from Magic-User

Stats
The biggest difference between mages and non-mages is their physical prowess. While mages channel magical energy outward using crystals as catalysts, non-mages are capable of amazing physical feats. They channel their energies inward to give them superhuman strength, speed, and stamina. While mages can this to a small degree, they are nowhere near as physically powerful as non-mages.

Skill
The non-magic form of spells. In this instance we have a character with three skills. Stone Skin would be a defensive skill that steels them against a physical strike (or other form of physical harm, such as a mage hurling a boulder at them), Fissure Strike which attacks a target by hitting the ground hard enough to cause a fissure to shoot outwards, and Twister which strike at multiple targets by spinning at high speed. Each Skill is attached to a Stat just to give a feel for how powerful it is intended to be. This also lets players kind of show how their character fights (a character with a million skills all tied to the same stat should be pretty obvious).

Inventory
Like Mages, non-mages are capable of carrying around items. While this could, potentially, be crystals it wouldn’t make much sense because they can’t use them. There will be, however, Relics available for use that allow non-mages to spend money to mimic magic-like effects. Gauntlet of Flame, for example, can be charged with magical energy, allowing it to shoot fireballs. The Shield of Reflecting turns aside a spell to keep the user safe. A Power Stone might give the user a temporary boost in strength. Some relics will allow for repeated uses, some will be one-time use, some will need to be charged, and other may only let someone use them once over a fixed period of time (one teleport per-fight, for example).]]>