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      Forum Rules (Read Me)   01/10/2010

      When writing thread for stories in the Interactive Unrealities section please do so off-site using something like Word or Notepad before posting. This way should something happen when you submit, you will not lose any work.   Also when using Word, please preview your post before submitting. In the past there was an issue with Word's "Smart Quotes" being converted to garbage characters. Though this should no longer be a problem it's best to find out before hand rather than have to make a bunch of edits.


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About InsaneSpaceHunter

  • Rank
    Resident Looney
  • Birthday 07/19/1983

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  • Gender
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    Somewhere/"Out There"
  • Occupation
    Bard and Ne'er-Do-Well Extraordinaire
  1. Gimp, ISH, Insaney, whatever. I always refer to myself in the third person in BOTP as "the Hunter" so it's all good. Hell, you can even bring my real name into it if you really want. I've decided to call 'Verse by a different random iteration of one of his names every time I refer to him from now on, myself. Just to keep things interesting. Have a nice day!
  2. Good to hear you're doin' better, Neko. Just remember next time that when breaking bricks with your appendages, you need to eat a Super Mushroom first. Also, you can still call me ISH if you want; I still call you Outey half the time. And to everybody else, yeah, I basically live on Twitter, if for no other reason than I don't have time to browse messages longer than 140 characters too often anymore. For instance, I've had to serve, like, 15 people and sort the mail in the time it took to read this thread and write this reply. I've been lurking a bit since Kaizen joined me on Twitter but not too much. Email's also still good if you wanna get a hold of me, and the Twitter's at Joshua Thompson (skulldaisygimp) on Twitter if that's somethin' you're interested in. Good to know everybody but Outey's still kickin' (Hah! It's his leg! ); I'll see you all on the flipped side. Have a nice day!
  3. That is, I am on the board with my new phone. . Oh, how I do slay me. Er, anyhoo, I got a Verizon Droid today, and lo and behold, besides being linked directly to my email for the purposes of my contacts list and web access, it does the board, too. Still getting used to typing, but that'll come in time. So expect to see more of me around here, since I can finally access the board during the 95% of the day when I don't have my computer. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  4. Really? I'd begun to believe him to be nothing but a shred of a collective fever dream we all apparently had. Kinda like those BOTPs that actually worked out. Good to hear, though. And sorry I wasn't on for the fireworks of the end of the BOTP, by the way. Though I think the ending was as good as it could get. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  5. "How far does this ocean go?" wondered Kane to himself, quoting the title of a Yoko Kanno song quite unintentionally as he discarded his fifth triple-layered three-color basket into the cascading goop. He saw the other four gyrating randomly somewhat above him with some thermal-spectro-ipso-duo-vision setting he'd long since forgotten he had, and Mebius below him in a peaceful pose as they all tumbled haplessly through the wall of muck (or floor, perhaps... direction had long ago lost meaning except to some internal gyroscope that endlessly assured him he was not right-side up). Something else was farther down, giving off some readings that most would call impossible, some would call wonky, the Hunter would call gyronamblic for some reason, and Mebius would call "exactly what we're looking for," were his head not encased in his Mutastone as they slipped through layer after endless layer of unlayered, meaningless goo. Not since Sir Wobblin' of Knocknees had led his Melancholy Men through Firwood Forest completely ineptly had anyone been as bored as the Hunter Kane was now. You see, Sir Wobblin' (formerly taking residence in Da Hood) had attempted to rob the rich and give to the poor, but, leading his men boldly through the forest shouting "All for one and one for all," he gave his position away and was promptly sued by the descendants of Alexandre Dumas for plagiarism. His men, embarrassed by their leader's lack of creativity, went back to being itinerate serfs. In any case, they, as the Melancholy Men, were as bored as the Hunter Kane was now. It all seemed familiar and yet so alien as Kane pondered not actually being Kane. Then light came into the picture, or rather the story, as it's hard to draw a picture of light using only text. For instance, if this were to be dark: +-------------+ |==========| |==========| |==========| +-------------+ then would this be light? +-------------+ |==========| |==========| |==========| +-------------+ Obviously, these are questions that should only be posed in a fixed-width font (and was an equals sign really the best choice for filler? Also, wouldn't it have been more effective had the board background color been an easily defined color, like black?), but that's still just as unrelated to the story as the whole concept of ascii art being introduced was, so we'll get back to the matter at hand. Light. Which there was a lot of. Mebius slowly withdrew his head from its oxygenating capsule, his eyes adjusting to the light after their long repose enshrouded in God's matter enshrouded in a floor (now a ceiling) of (nearly) endless goo (and baskets). Blinking, he glanced around as Kane landed next to him with a sound somewhere between SSSCHHLOOCK and SSSSSHHHLOOOP. "Glad that's over. That fancy boomstick of yours still work full of ssschhlockoop?" queried Mebius, indicating the assault rifle that Kane was unslinging from his back, assumedly to verify its functionality even as Mebius was suggesting that action. "Sure. Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 2147. More commonly known as the AK-2147, or Kalashnikov. It's the solar system's most popular assault rifle, a weapon all fighters love. An elegantly simple nine-pound amalgamation of forged durasteel and multi-ply ironwood. It doesn't break, jam, or overheat. It'll shoot whether it's covered in mud or filled with ssschhlockoop." explained the bounty hunter, giving far more information than was necessary and paraphrasing a Nicholas Cage movie in the process. "Sure is bright down here." said Mebius, shielding his eyes from the glare with the Mutastone, now in an ultra-thin form that allowed some light through (but not all of it, thus, allowing him to see. No, not like sunglasses, that's just silly and isn't becoming a mind-malleable object of untold power.). Finally, the light dimmed and a wave of some machine equivalent of methane gas washed over them. "I think my hair is melting." muttered the Oroboro. "Er, 'SCuSe mE!" wheezed the orchestrator of the robotic belch, thumping himself on the chest for no apparent reason. "hOW faR DoEs ThIS OceAN GO?" "Sasuke?" thought the Hunter, who promptly recognized the robot and realized that he wasn't sure whether Kane would be able to do that. "Sasuke?" said Kane, who promptly realized that he hadn't yet decided whether he should be able to do that. "Dammit..." "whO? asked the off-balance droid. "He's got something in his system, other than robotic hyperdementia." said the Oroboro, wondering whether it was he or one of his other selves that at some point managed to obtain a degree in android psychology. "Robotic hyperdementia is overrated." replied Kane, wondering whether or not he'd actually obtained a degree in android psychology or had merely come down with, and, subsequently (and ironically) bestowed a moniker identical to that of traditional android psychology to, every single psychological malady that a semi-artificial intelligent life-form was capable of manifesting. "I figure we need to get it out, one way or another. It's either important that we do because we need whatever it is, or it's important that we do because this," he said, indicating Sasuke's dangling eyeball and gyroscoping left arm, "is just not right." "Sorry about this, buddy, but at least it'll hurt you more than it hurts me I mean, it looks like you need it." thought the Hunter, readying his weapon. "You know this guy?" asked Mebius, ducking under an accidental punch aimed at nothing that struck nothing that Sasuke may or may not have meant to have thrown. "I have no idea." answered Kane as honestly as he could. "lET's be PAlS!" exclaimed Sasuke, flinging his rampaging self at his would-be attackers. And so the fight was joined.
  6. So, anyhow, Sasuke was wonderin' where I've been, and that's been the same thing, home, work, and playin' gigs (I'm in a band, y'see). I've not been budgeting my time for making sure I get on to post, and it's totally my fault. I've been reading what's been posted and lurking about the boards since my last posts, but haven't posted anything. I've been playing a lot of gigs lately, and since I'm an Irish singer, those gigs *generally* involve alcohol consumption. So I *generally* come home in, shall we say, a slight state of inebriation. Not always so drunk, but usually buzzed enough that I either forget to hop on and post something or just don't summon up the focus to do so. I need to buckle down and actually set aside some time to post (like I'm doing now, at the very least, to say hello), which I'll definitely do. Tuesday (tomorrow) I've got a gig and Friday I'm mastering my new CD, so those days are out. So I'll see y'all Wednesday or Thursday night. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  7. I think, and this is in my uniquely... deranged? opinion... that the whole concept of end dates might be a mood-hamperer. Don't get me wrong, many of you are probably the organized, thinky types that actually set aside time to do stuff, unlike my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants scheduling ways. But just like when we did too much in the stat system and had fifty slots and styles and attacks and such, maybe the whole "we WILL finish by this date" thing messed up the mojo. By no means should we try to drag this out forever, but when we're first faced with "post every week without fail or you're out, dammit" and then (most of us) end up havin' problems with life and whatever and can't make that happen all the time, then we start starin' the deadline in the face a week or two out which for (most of us, again) represents only a post or two, it's easy to not necessarily lose interest, but fall into a state of apathy. I mean, I did somewhat; I probably could've hopped on and at least posted something, but without the real time to think about what I wanted to do, it seemed pointless. If I only got a post or two in before the deadline, I wanted them to be good, but I wasn't able to deliver the quality that I'd have hoped for, so I didn't want to do it as much. I reckon this might've been a problem for mostly just me with the deadline looming and such, but hey, that's where I'm comin' from. So... are we doin' the extension, then? I don't think it'd hurt to move the deadline some; might take the pressure off and we might be able to actually get some more goin' with this thing before it's done instead of snuffing it out just because it's faltering. Mind you, this could also result in dragging something out long after it should've died a natural death, but if even half of us have one-sixteenth the interest Sasuke has in doin' this thing, we should be good. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  8. ...or Sasuke, anyway. Hey! Hey! Guess what! Guess what! Hey! Guess what! I posted something! Finally had a day off from everything, so I did this. Wasn't sure if it's gonna come down to everything ending tomorrow, so I gave Max a good end to his arc, at least. I'll try to hop on tomorrow and do at least one more post before this thing wraps up. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  9. Max clung to the offending baked good as it rolled over him, then righted himself the moment that its rolling motion brought the particular bit that he clung to (two chocolate chips and a blueberry, incidentally) to the top of the gyrating yeasty monstrosity. Running on a rolling muffin is a bit different than, say, running on a rolling log (and in fact is more difficult), but Max somehow managed to stay right-side up despite having to hurdle Sasuke's bulk every time the muffin rolled over to that side. Gilgamesh, not one to be outdone (if he could possibly prevent it, that is), flipped onto his feet and joined Max in running madly along the tumbling muffin. "You really must teach me the muffin-summoning technique when we're done with this. It would come in handy when I get peckish in limbo." said Gilgamesh between breaths and the occasional swing of his sword (Masamune, as Zantetsuken was still in Max's hand). Before Max could reply, however (or interject that they really should get off the muffin before trying to continue the fight), Gilgamesh continued in his normal long-winded manner. "All I can summon is... ENKIDU!" "Whaff vuff?!" said Sasuke through a half-mouthful of muffin as Enkidu landed on him from dimensions unknown. Through one eye, he'd caught a few glimpses of the muffin's passengers as he rolled along with the muffin and they didn't, but since said glimpses were punctuated by random viewings of the ground and random surrounds, it was hard to keep track of what was going on. It was also difficult to hear the banter when the muffin kept rolling over him and blocking the sound. "Attack, my faithf..." heard Sasuke as the ground came up to meet him. ... "Is that a wolf, a dragon, or a..." he heard on his next rotation, during which he saw Gilgamesh's left foot and also a weird tentacled thing in the distance fighting some people with swords. ... "Yes!" CLANG! "In tandem, you cur!" shouted Gilgamesh at Enkidu as Sasuke tumbled once more against the ground. ... "...not fair having teammates...", Max's hand holding Zantetsuken. ... "Just because you're an unpopular vagrant an...", Enkidu's... limb of some kind. ... "VVAT IV ENUFF!" said Sasuke, bursting free of his muffin prison and planting himself against its bulk. The muffin skidded to a halt, sending its other occupants tumbling head-over-heels onto the ground behind Sasuke. Enkidu disappeared in a puff of purplish nether, though this fact escaped the vapid Gilgamesh as he righted himself and pulled out a second sword with his other hand. "Thank you, oh marverlous metallic muffin-stop!" quoth Gilgamesh, finding it uniquely hard to carry his inexplicable halberd under his arm whilst wielding two swords. "Ptooey!" replied Sasuke, spitting out gritty pieces of muffin. There was a reason he didn't eat things after they fell on the ground for more than ten seconds. Meanwhile, Gilgamesh hobbled over to Max, who drew his Shriek with his off-hand to mimic Gilgamesh's stance, sans the impediment of the halberd. "You sure you got the, er, grip strength for that?" mused Max through an amused smirk. "With the help of Enkidu, I shall surely vanquish..." came the warrior's retort, until he realized that his "faithful" companion had disappeared. "OH, COME ON!!!" Max took the opportunity to attack furiously, boosting his already-impressive attack speed and dual-wielding combat prowess with his suit. The shriek and also Zantetsuken clanged off of Gilgamesh's armor, weapons, and ever-motionless halberd as random attack after random attack nailed the stalwart interdimensional warrior. Armor shards, chunks of Excalipoor (which Gilgamesh now sorrowfully realized was the weapon he'd drawn into his off-hand and seriously hampered his overall dexterity to dual-wield), and spurts of blood fell from Gilgamesh under the assault. "Had enough?!" taunted the bounty hunter. "UNLIKELY, YOU SCURRILOUS BUFFOON! IT'S MORPHING TIME!!" shouted Gilgamesh above the din, sprouting six extra arms and the remnants of his sword collection. Rooting himself firmly in place, he swung, parried, slashed, feinted, and punched at Max (usually more of a kicking man, he adopted a new technique due to the fact that Max still had his other sword which left him with a free hand), who, even with his boosted speed and reflexes, fell back under the onslaught of five blades and a fist. "Wowza." remarked Sasuke, leaning up against the now-stationary muffin and momentarily distracting attention from the epic sword battle. "I turn your question upon you as you turned my blade upon me!" taunted Gilgamesh. "HAD ENOUGH?!" Max made one final attempt to stop the onslaught by sweeping Zantetsuken through both Gilgamesh's (fake) Sword of Geburah and (fake) Black Blade and lopping off one of the warrior's extra arms, leaving Crystalis also out of reach for the time being. Gilgamesh, however, returned the favor and severed Max's left arm with his beam saber, sending the Shriek to the ground along with two (fake) half-swords and another armored limb. Max grunted and sank to his knees, noting that even though the pain was excruciating, he wouldn't bleed to death because the beam saber had mercifully cauterized the wound on its way through. "Hah! And ouch! Yield, I say!" "Don't think so." said Max, attempting to get to his feet, which was difficult as the magnificent sword Zantetsuken simply punched through the ground they were standing on as he tried to invert it and use it as a crutch to get up. Still struggling, he managed to regain one knee with a tremendous effort as he looked down at Zantetsuken, still firmly planted in the "earth." He stopped short as a gauntleted hand entered his vision, open and palm-upward. "Then yield, you shall not." said the suddenly-calm voice of Gilgamesh, offering Max a "hand up." Oh, I slay me. Max begrudgingly took the proffered palm, looking Gilgamesh (now without his extra arms) in the eye as the warrior helped him to his feet. Before he could ask him why he'd suddenly changed his tune, as it were, and hear some goofy remembrance of honor and bravery in the face of adversity, they both turned to discern the source of a loud metallic clapping. "Bravo, bravo." said Sasuke, putting his hands together in appreciation of the spectacle. Max grimaced in semi-shock and looked at Gilgamesh, who shrugged. "Good show, guys. Two arms in one fight? From two guys? That's pretty cool." He strode up to the bewildered combatants and inspected Max's stump. "I can fix that, I think, if you don't mind a metal one and some short-term muscle memory reprogramming. Oh, and you'll probably be unable to fight anybody for a while... though that's pretty much where you are right now anyway, am I right?" Gilgamesh was the first to speak. "Uh... what?"
  10. All didn't stick around too much after SimBen (who was his tie to us) left BOTP after, um, four? Five? Somewhere in there. It's been the same for me with the job and (also) my truck breaking down, so I'll try to get something rolling after I catch up on reading some story posts. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  11. Well, everything's back online. Technically, the power came back last Wednesday afternoon, but then I spent the rest of the day getting the internet and all the computers back up and running and communicating with each other. Comcast was having some problems as well as Xcel with the whole tornado thing, I guess. Thursday I spent a good part of cleaning up sticks from the roof and front and back yards and hosing the front of the house off where a lot of leaves got stuck in funny places. Friday I helped a friend do the same, and then I was playing music at the local Renaissance festival over the weekend. I guess I could've done something yesterday, but I was tired as hell. I'll get something in the works tomorrow now that everything is (seemingly) sorted out. But I'm back, baby! Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  12. So... we had a tornado touch down about ten blocks from where I live, and the power's out (full story later). Right now I'm pirating internet from someone in my front yard, running the laptop off of my truck via a 300-watt power inverter and an extension cord. Xcel Energy says on their call-in information center that they've completed about 60% of the total repairs, and 80% should be done by tomorrow morning. The other 20% should be done by 6pm tomorrow. I don't know what percent I'll be in, but rest assured, it shall be hard as the dickens to post much of anything until they do. Not that I can't just sit in the front yard and pirate internet, that's okay, but running this thing off my truck shows that it should take about two and a half hours to charge the battery on the laptop. That's a lot of gas for a four-hundred-and-sixty-cubic-inch V8 in a twenty-five-year-old truck. So I'll see you when the lights come back on. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  13. Without waiting for his opponent to reply, Mebius stepped in with a jab of his Mutastone "dagger," which lengthened itself into a sword even as he was attacking. The Architect wasted literally no time in stepping slightly to the side, and counterattacked with his own sword. Mebius, too, with reflexes borne of an extradimensional view of reality, sidestepped neatly to one side. Both figures stood stock-still for a mere moment, each holding their sword over the other's shoulder in a visceral mirror image of their opponent, then as one they slashed for the neck to end the fight in a violent and bloody manner. Neither blow landed as both fighters again dodged with near-omniscient reflexes once again, their blades whipping through the air and coming back to clash again and again as each tried to find a hole in his opponent's defenses. Instantaneous reflexes warred against knowledge that spanned a limited part of the immediate future, and neither seemed to be able to gain the upper hand. Then Mebius changed tactics, his MutaStone suddenly folding neatly in half at the point where the starsteel blade of the Architect intersected it and trapping it like a pincer. Surprise registered on the face of the Architect for only a split second as Mebius pulled the creator closer, prepared to deliver an elbow to the cheekbone. In that split second, however, a ball of lightning erupted from the Architect's gauntleted hand that Mebius saw (another) split second too late to dodge. As the globule of crackling energy struck him full in the chest, however, he managed to touch his off-hand to the Architect's own sword, creating a circuit between himself and the other being. Lightning arced through both of them, causing a thunderous boom and a powerful shockwave that knocked both of them backward. Mebius' MutaStone morphed into a spring as it released its grasp on the Architect's blade and the Oroboro righted himself on a coil of God's-Matter while the god simply drug his mundane blade through the soil to slow his flight until he planted both his feet once again in the Zookeper's yard. Both fighters looked up at one another to continue the fight when they heard a weapon discharge in the vicinity of the building. They turned almost as one to see Kane, his sidearm leveled at the now-smoking remains of what had been the zookeeper's head, the chair still rocking slightly from the momentum that the old man had created right before his head had been turned into a pile of molten slag. "What?" asked the cyborg. "You fool! You don't realize what you've done!" screamed the Architect in a rage that would, under any other circumstance, blot out suns and send countless planets into the throes of endless frozen winter. As it was, however, all that his power mustered in the Garden was a necrotic wilting of the grass around him and a wave of rippling energy flattening the rest of the plant life around the Zookeeper's home. "Life's a bitch, have a nice day." remarked Kane, holstering his pistol and brandishing his assault rifle. The more he adopted the "Kane" personality, the easier it became, it seemed. "Now get out of my... hell, I'll just move you out of the way." Mebius, his MutaStone morphing into a heavy hammer, sprang at the fuming physical manifestation of the Architect just as Kane pulled the trigger, the two suddenly united by a common enemy...
  14. Thanks, guys. Actually, that's kinda the reason that I didn't end up posting anything for BOTP this weekend... that, and the internet was down on Saturday. Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter
  15. Remember, so long as we're hitting our one-post-a-week minimum, there's no "drought," as such. I realize that I'm late this week in getting at least one post in (I'll get something up tomorrow), but we're not trying to ditch, we're just a bit busy with life right now. Or maybe we've mellowed in our old age and one post a week is about right for our more simplistic lifestyle... nah. I dunno about this 'complaints about excessive posting' bit, though, as you usually tend to write a lot anyway and this shouldn't generally be frowned upon in a cooperative writing venture, but it *can* be a little intimidating when I come online and have to read five new posts in three threads before I can figure out where exactly everybody is, THEN start formulating a post. It's been hard to make time to read all the posts and write new ones this week, so thus the outage. Not that I think that you should post less or anything; I'm just saying that when I'm short of time this can be an issue that comes up and ends up delaying my input. I shan't be short of time next week and intend to 'bring the big guns to bear,' as it were, but if others are in the same boat I am, then I can't fault them for not managing to write three things a day. I'm just giving you crap. My main point is that you set a minimum and then went on kinda implying that merely meeting the minimum wasn't quite cutting it, though I don't think you necessarily meant to and by my pointing this out I don't mean to blunt the edge of your tremendous enthusiasm. I just mean to quell your fears that some of us are slacking off and suggest that you calm down. We still have time to go before this is all said and done. Besides, you, Nameless, and Cap are steaming along just fine with only occasional input from the rest of us. Why mess with what's working? Have a nice day! The Insane Space Hunter