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Messages - BlackDragonSlayer

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Off-Topic / Re: The NSM Ultimate Ranking Topic
« on: November 10, 2019, 10:31:39 AM »
BIONICLE Canister Waves:

Bohrok (2002)
Phantoka (2008)
Bohrok-Kal (2003)
Toa Nuva (2002)
Toa Mata (2001)
Toa Mahri (2007)
Glatorian (2009)
Barraki (2007)

Mistika (2008)
All right, people love to hate on the Toa Mistika, but the only one that's a bit lackluster is Gali, and that's mostly because of her weapons (or lack thereof of distinct non-blaster weapon) and mask. Tahu and Onua look pretty cool. The Makuta Mistika are awesome too, especially Gorast and Krika (ESPECIALLY Gorast). However, I wouldn't put the Nynrah Ghostblasters as my favorite launcher.
Glatorian Legends (2009)
A pretty solid line of figures, although somewhat lacking in variety compared to the original Glatorians. The first actual depiction of Mata Nui, and I think it's pretty worth the wait.
Toa Metru (2004)
The next step of evolution in gear functions. A lot more contained and streamlined than the previous line of Toa. They have great weapons that they can either store on their back or find a dual usage for. The worst part of them is that their arms stick out a bit awkwardly.
Rahkshi (2003)
Finally, we have knees! The Rahkshi have a pretty cool collectible in the Kraata (admittedly not as cool as the Krana), and have nice parts (especially the weapons). Their gear function is decent as well.

Piraka (2006)
The Piraka are pretty cool. The first users of the Inika build. They differentiate themselves with their rubbery spines, glow-in-the-dark skulls, and light-up eyes. Also I'm pretty sure this is the only wave where my brother and I have the same set (Avak).
Toa Inika (2006)
The namesakes of the "infamous" Inika build (although the Inika were technically first) and probably the worst users of it (IMO, I feel like the Inika build allows for more versatility). They're the last of the canister sets to be clones (I don't count Onua and Pohatu as not being clones). Their weapons are pretty cool, but the rubber masks are definitely a step down from standard masks (although most of them still look pretty decent), and the rest of them are pretty bland. Also an example of the first "brown" BIONICLE not to be, well, brown, instead being yellow or orange.
Toa Hordika (2005)
Although the Toa Hordika have a lot of cool parts (especially their legs and torsos, which are somewhat more reusable than either of the Toa torsos before them) and weapons, and they definitely look like they're supposed to be monster Toa, I still can't get over their asymmetry. Their gear function is kind of lame too. Also the first hero wave to have a unique made-for-BIONICLE launcher. Their ripcord kind of sticks out awkwardly though.
Visorak (2005)
The Visorak are kind of cool, and definitely unique, and have a lot of nice features, but I feel like their rebuildability is kind of limited because their main body is just a giant plastic piece. Also the first villain wave to have a unique made-for-BIONICLE launcher.
Vahki (2004)
The first wave to have a standardized launcher between all of them. Technically speaking, I own all of the Vahki, since I own 8715 "BIONICLE Exclusive Accessories" which can be used to build 5 Vahki (all except the green one), and I own the green Vahki as set. I remember my brother and I were confused at first which Vahki was the red and which was the green (since those are the two we got), because both of them use red and green in their color scheme. :P The Vahki aren't bad, they just aren't great.

Stars (2010)
Yeah, this is no surprise. They're not horrible, but being the last wave of BIONICLE makes them an extreme disappointment. If they had simply been a collector's wave to represent a "best of" the theme, I don't think anybody would have hated them, but considering that they're all based on the Av-Matoran build, they are still lacking compared to other canister waves.

I'll edit in the rest later.

Off-Topic / Re: Made mah day.
« on: November 09, 2019, 10:19:15 PM »
--side note this topic gave me the 120 warning, are y'all okay? no ones had a good day in a while?
There are a lot more topics giving that warning nowadays, unfortunately. I figure if it's at least on the first page, it's still good.

Gaming / Re: What are you playing right now?
« on: November 03, 2019, 01:55:11 AM »
I've been playing Disc Creatures on Steam, a game which looks almost exactly like the original Pokemon games, although it has a few differences of its own. While I like the game, there are a few ways I see it could be improved. There are two major areas of improvement:
- The Catching System
- Leveling New Creatures

So, the catching system. In Pokemon, you battle a Pokemon, usually whittle it down to low health, then chuck Pokeballs at it until you catch it. In Disc Creatures, whenever you defeat a creature, you get a chance to burn its data onto a disc. While there is an item you can use (up to five times per creature) in order to increase this chance, there's still an issue with this. An NPC says that, when used five times, the item increases the chance by 10x. This means, that if a creature naturally has a, say, 1% chance of getting its disc, using the item five times gives you a 10% chance to get it. While I'm sure most of the percentages in the game are higher, this still proves to be an issue: in most areas, you need to use the item at least twice to get any noticeable effects, and even then, you don't know if you'll get the disc until after the battle is over. There is a solution to this, however. Instead of multiplying the percent chance, it adds a percentage based on the rarity of the creature. So, for a common creature, using the item five times would provide a +100% chance—in other words, a guaranteed chance. But for a rarer creature, using the item five times might only provide a +60% chance. This preserves the element of chance for rarer creatures while still rewarding you fairly for using the item enough times.

Leveling new creatures. Once you've managed to get your hands on some creatures, you'll want to try them out on your team, right? In Pokemon, wild Pokemon you catch are usually around your level if you catch them in current areas. Thus, leveling them up to the rest of your party usually isn't too difficult. But in Disc Creatures, nearly all, if not all (I think the starter discs are the only exception) of the creatures you obtain start out at Level 1. That means, if you want to use a creature in your party, you either have to go back to the beginning area of the game and grind, or risk having your creature get knocked out over and over again while leveling in your current area (Disc Creatures uses a three-party system like many other non-Pokemon RPGs). This is an issue... but again, it has a pretty simple fix. Introduce an item much like the Rare Candy in Pokemon, except with a twist... the lower level your creature, the greater effect it has. So, for a Level 1 Creature, it would increase its level by, say, 5 levels, while for a Level 99 creature (I don't actually know the level cap), it would increase its level by, say, a quarter of a level. This item should be purchasable.

I'm only about 3-4 hours into the game, so these issues may be resolved later on, but right now, these are the two biggest problems the game has.

Gaming / Re: Which Zelda Game are you planning to play for Zelda Month?
« on: November 02, 2019, 11:33:37 PM »
I dunno about you guys, but I'm gonna be speedrunning Link's Crossbow Training, bundled with my very own Wii Zapper™
A man of culture, I see.

Site News / Re: Halloween 2019 Update
« on: November 01, 2019, 05:50:07 AM »
What's the record for the largest update?

Story Telling / Re: BlackDragonSlayer's Short Stories
« on: November 01, 2019, 05:13:07 AM »
Halloween Horror Special 2019 part 3

    Everyone on our world is born with a purpose, a sole goal in life that they must accomplish before they can live a truly satisfied life. What their task might be varies in scope: some people have tasks like climbing a certain mountain or making a pilgrimage to a special place, like a holy site or the birthplace of an influential person; some people have incredibly difficult tasks that they probably won’t ever get the chance to accomplish in their lifetime, like finding a cure for a disease, or discovering a new species of a particular animal; some people have tasks that extend even beyond their own life, such as finding and mentoring a specific person to accomplish their own task; other people have tasks like becoming a teacher, or an engineer, or getting married to a specific person… those people are the lucky ones; they have their lives already laid out for them. Simply looking deep into someone’s eyes will instantly tell you what that person’s goal is. Nobody knows how it’s decided; most people attribute it to a divine power, though some people think it’s simply a powerful manifestation of a natural instinct, a sort of sixth-sense attunement with the world that tells people where they’re needed the most. Most people agree that it’s decided at birth, but this isn’t completely certain; when you look into a baby’s eyes you don’t get a complete image of what they’ve got to do, but you get a faint whispering or vague idea. There are organizations and charities out there that try to help people accomplish their goal, but even then, a lot of people die without ever truly being satisfied. The circumstances of life and the world around us tends to get in the way. It’s generally taught that you try to do whatever you can, no matter how small, to try and help a person accomplish their goal. But nobody has ever wanted to help me. When people look into my eyes, fear fills their whole being. What is my goal, you may ask? Revenge.

    My target is a man named Viktor Morozov. At first, I didn’t know his full name, just an image of him and a drive: “Get revenge on Viktor for Sergei.” I knew from the start that he was a fairly high profile person, so finding him only took a couple weeks after I first got unrestricted access to a computer; my parents were ashamed of my purpose and they tried their best to stop me from fulfilling it—they hammered into me that I shouldn’t try to harm anyone at all, but of course, that didn’t work. What I found was that Viktor was a well-known and respected stockbroker and himself a frequent investor. He was born in Russia but has lived about more than half of his slightly-over-fifty-year life in the United States. As much as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to find any sort of dirt on him; in contrast, everything I’ve seen about him seems to indicate that he’s a pretty stand-up guy. He’s quite the philanthropist and supports a number of credible charities in various ways, including donations and offering free financial services. His top causes of choice are combating homelessness and fighting against animal cruelty. Despite dedicated searching into the life of Mr. Morozov, I’ve not been able to identify Sergei at all, and I unfortunately don’t even have a face to match the name.

    I’ve gone back as far as I can possibly go in his life to try and find a reason to hate the guy, but every time I’ve come up short. I even took Russian in high school and college so I could have access to as much information as possible. I contacted an organization that had ties to the Russian government to get access to his birth and school records (enabled by a bit of a lie on my end as to what my purpose was), and everything came up clean. I had phone interviews with people who knew him growing up (obviously, I can’t do them in person), and it honestly seemed like not a single person in the world really hates the guy. I did the same with people here in the U.S. as much as I could without arousing suspicion. You’d expect a guy in finance to at least make a couple of enemies along the way, but again, nothing. Nobody in his life—business or personal—has died unexpectedly, so it’s not like he’s taking hits out on people who so much as look at him the wrong way. It’s baffling: doesn’t even have any exes that hate him; he’s been unmarried his whole life and only had two short-term girlfriends who parted on friendly terms—like seriously, can’t this guy be at least a little bit of a dick?! Surely there’s gotta be some rando out there who hates him? His family’s not around anymore—the closest cousins I found had never met him—but I’d take a bet things were squeaky clean there too.

    That aside, all my main efforts surrounding him have been to locate him and try to get a good bearing on his average schedule. He’s based in New York City, but he has clients all up and down the East Coast, so he’s frequently traveling. Even when he’s in New York his schedule’s erratic. I’ve spent days just following him around as best as I can and it seems like every day’s different. I moved halfway across the country and got an apartment in New York just so I could be in the same city as him. So far it doesn’t seem like he’s caught on to the fact that someone’s following him. I’ve been lucky enough to avoid close eye contact with him, although there have been one or two close calls along the way. If he knows, there’s no way I’m ever going to fulfill my purpose. Right now, I’m just waiting for a good opportunity to strike; I wait out as close as I can get to him on any given day, but sometimes, there just isn’t any good opportunity. I’ve been working as little as I possibly can to get by. It’s been rough, but I know things will have to get better soon, as long as he doesn’t get hit by a bus or something.

    I’ve been contemplating whether it’s right to do this or not. It’s easy to feel it’s simply justified because it’s what will leave me feeling complete, but I think there’s more to it than that… more to it outside of simply how I feel. If you believe there’s a purpose behind all of our callings, then surely there’s a purpose to mine too? Maybe there’s something secretly horrible Viktor did that nobody else knows about, and this is the way he’s getting payback for it. Or maybe I’m just carrying out the jealous whim of a particularly petty person… who knows? I guess I can only keep doing what I know is best, and right now this is what I think is best. People may condemn me for this, or who knows, they may find themselves capable of sympathy, once all is said and done. When it is done, not if. It’s only a matter of waiting, waiting for the perfect opportunity…

    The moment came almost by surprise; I nearly let it slip, but I was prepared. I was always prepared. I was staked out across the street from a building I knew he was working in. I kept my eyes locked on the entrance. I saw Viktor leave the building in a hurry and begin walking down the street toward me. I got up and started walking. All of a sudden, where there was once a crowd, the sea of people seemed to split open; there were only a few scattered people here and there between us. I kept my eyes locked on his shoes; I couldn’t risk messing up now. My heart started beating faster as we drew closer. He came closer, and closer, and then, in one fluid motion, I put my right hand firmly on his shoulder to stop him while I drew my knife with my left. I looked him directly in the eyes and said, “This is for Sergei.” It seemed to come out by itself, almost instinctively. I could see the fear in his eyes the moment I met his gaze. I stabbed him over and over again. I wouldn’t let anything muck things up. I kept stabbing and stabbing until I got tired; I don’t know how many times I stabbed him, I didn’t bother to keep count. By this time a crowd had gathered around, frozen in horror. I finally stopped as he dropped to his knees. I barely heard him gurgle out through the blood, “Sergei? But I—” and then he collapsed. All of a sudden, I felt immensely satisfied, complete like I had never been before in my life. It was over; I had done what I had to do. I scanned the crowd around me, and they knew what had happened.

     I still don’t know what Viktor did to Sergei that made him deserve what I did to him.

...until next year...

Story Telling / Re: Cracked: A Nuzlocke Story
« on: November 01, 2019, 05:07:44 AM »
WOO! Happy birthday and welcome back! It's always great to have another writer around.

Music / Re: BDS Presents You With Unsolicited Musical Opinions!
« on: October 28, 2019, 03:47:13 AM »
Animals by Pink Floyd

Animals is the tenth studio album by Pink Floyd, released in 1977. Like other Pink Floyd albums released before and after this one, some of the songs are long. Really long. In fact, if the first and last song were not included, the album would only have three songs but would still be almost 40 minutes long. That being said, I'm glad those two songs are included, because together, they bookend the album fantastically, a short and sweet message drawn from Roger Waters' relationship with his then-wife. The whole album is credibly jaded and depressing, about all kinds of horrible people (the eponymous "Animals," divided into three different categories) who inhabit the world, but the two parts of "Pigs on the Wing" reveal that there's still a glimmer of hope in the world.

All the songs on this album are super great, and it's really hard to pick a favorite out of the middle three. I think that's a good testament to how strong the album is. With the exception of the two parts of "Pigs on the Wing," I don't think this is really an album that you listen to individual songs of, which might be a downside to some people because of the time commitment, but then again, when you have songs that are all longer than ten minutes, time's always going to be an issue.

As a last note, I also love the way Waters sings "charade" in the third song.

Track List Overview:
Side one
1. "Pigs on the Wing (Part 1)" - 1:24
2. "Dogs" - 17:04

Side two
3. "Pigs (Three Different Ones)" - 11:28
4. "Sheep" - 10:20
5. "Pigs on the Wing (Part 2)" - 1:24
Total Length: 41:40
Track listing information from here.

Tracks in Platinum are the one I consider to be the absolute best of the album.
Tracks in Gold are ones I consider to be among the artist's best.
Tracks in Red are ones I consider to be standout tracks on the album.

Consistency: 10/10
Being a concept album, all of the songs pretty much share a common theme. The two parts of "Pigs on the Wing" offer a touching counterpoint to that theme.

Quality: 10/10
Every song on this album is amazing, which is good because there are only five of them. Both parts of "Pigs on the Wing" put together is probably my favorite Pink Floyd song.

Overall Rating: 9.8/10
This is absolutely a fantastic musical experience and I think it's very much underrated to the casual listener. Definitely my favorite Pink Floyd album. I can't wait for them to finally announce and release the planned remaster.

Music / Re: Nintendo musical counterpoint?
« on: October 27, 2019, 12:30:52 AM »
Dang, that was a smooth response.

Site News / Re: Update, Thursday 24th of October 2019
« on: October 24, 2019, 03:15:39 AM »
Well, I mean...

Story Telling / Re: BlackDragonSlayer's Short Stories
« on: October 18, 2019, 05:36:34 AM »
Halloween Horror Special 2019 part 2
The Orange Bleeder

     She walked toward the house, filled with a vague sense of dread, mixed in with irritation and a tad of embarrassment. Why had she let herself be talked into this? It was simply ridiculous, that’s all. A waste of her day on a silly urban legend. She knew she had a reputation for seeming weak and cowardly, and she wanted to appear tough by taking on the dare. All her so-called friends had done it—though she wasn’t quite sure if she believed any of them, that didn’t change the fact that she felt obligated to do it herself. After all, it wasn’t really that bad, was it? All she had to do was go in the stupid house, walk around a bit, and maybe take a picture or two—she had brought her camera for just that purpose. She wasn’t going to stay the night there, at least. Now that would be weird. And genuinely creepy. Though she had heard stories of people spending the night there, they were inevitably followed with the stock phrase “and they were never seen again.” Sometimes local disappearances were attributed by the youth community (and, truth be told, some of the more superstitious elders) to the ominous house.

    Nobody knew when the old house had been built, but everyone seemed to remember it always being there. Nobody knew who owned the land, and nobody bothered to check. Everyone simply seemed to accept the house as a permanent fixture, meant to be left abandoned and untouched, aside from the occasional thrill-seeker hoping to look tough to their friends. The architecture of the house, although strangely elegant despite years of dilapidation, was of an unplaceable time period. Originally, the house had been in the middle of the forest, with iron and brick fencing all around it, but as the town expanded, the residential areas moved closer and closer to the house, until now the house lay roughly at the end of a quiet street in a poor area of town, only a handful of trees scattered around to hint at the landscape that once surrounded the house. The lock on the gate was long broken, and nobody ever bothered chaining up the fence, but mostly because nobody with a good head on their shoulders ever went there. There had once been a proposal to knock the house down, but that slowly and quietly fizzled out for reasons unknown; nobody ever remembered anyone who opposed the proposal, but then again, nobody knew anyone who really cared enough to support it either.

    She didn’t really know what the inside of the house was like, although she had seen the exterior from a distance a couple times and knew it was a grand mansion. Now, the house wasn’t simply said to be haunted; no, it was said to host a very particular kind of spirit. It was known simply as the Orange Bleeder, no other names. It was called that because it was said to bleed orange blood from its eyes, ears, and mouth. Some people described it as a vampire. Some as a demonic entity. Some people thought it was the spirit of the owner of the house who died from a mysterious plague. It was said to be able to run twice as fast as any person and leap down a flight of stairs in a single bound. If it reached you, it would kill you… but of course, none of this was really true, was it? She didn’t believe in spirits, demons, or vampires. It was just a creepy old house, probably infested with rats and bugs, which was enough to be afraid of in her book.

    Finally, she reached the end of the street and saw the house looming in the distance. There was a wide gravel driveway leading to the house. A couple of cars were parked in it close to the road. She wandered past them and up to the gate. Vines and bushes sprung out from behind the wall and wrapped around the fencing, hanging down in a wild disorder. The metal parts of the fencing had bits of rust clinging to them; the gate, although rusted, was free of vines. The brick part of the fence had a few stray vines hanging down here and there, but was mostly uncovered, revealing bits of graffiti that had been added over the years. Behind the gate was a spotty dirt path with overgrown clumps of grass encroaching in. Hesitantly, she moved the creaking gate into an open position, and slid inside. The gate creaked back to its old position, as if it somehow had a will to remain shut; as if it invited the one who just entered to stay a while, and perhaps become a part of the grounds. The yard was almost a forest itself, featuring overgrown grass, enormous trees, and bushes that had perhaps not been trimmed in over a hundred years. A crow was nesting on a high-up branch. Slowly, she wandered up to the front door of the house. There were two large, imposing doors made of dark wood, with faded brass door handles. She tentatively put her hand on the right door handle. It seemed very firm for its age. She turned the handle and opened the door.

    She took in the sights of the house that lay before her as she entered. The first room inside was a large, open foyer, richly decorated, but dulled by many layers of dust and dirt. The walls were red with accents of gold. A tattered carpet covered much of the floor, and the wood was cracked and showed signs of water damage. There were a few plush chairs, also red, on either side, and some small tables between these. The ceiling was not low, but not extremely high either. She continued into the room, and the front door slowly creaked shut behind her. The foyer led into a wide hallway, mostly wood, with a long red runner across most of the length of the hall. There were several dressing tables and hutches scattered along the room. On the left side was a grand staircase leading to the second floor of the house, and on the ride was an open door leading into the dining room. She decided to explore the dining room first. The wall-to-wall carpet was a dark green, albeit faded with time, and the walls were blue. Short hutches lined the walls. Most of the chairs had been knocked over and were scattered around the room, displaying various levels of damage and decay, although there were two or three still standing. The windows on the right side of the room were covered with damaged and torn curtains through which little bits of light peeked through. She crossed the dining room to get to the door on the other side. When she opened that door, she saw the kitchen—which was an absolute mess. From what she saw, cabinets and plates had been smashed around and now littered the floor. She didn’t want to even try to go through the minefield of glass and wood. She slowly backed out and back into the dining room. She snapped a few pictures of the room before she exited back out into the hallway.

    She considered leaving then and there, but now that she was already here, a strange curiosity drove her to continue exploring the house. She felt compelled to walk up the grand staircase and see what lay on the upper floor. She went up the staircase, pausing only on the landing to appreciate a damaged painting that adorned the wall. It was a picture of a man, but most of the painting across his face had been ripped. When she got to the top of the staircase and turned the corner, she saw that the room opened into another hall, wide but not nearly as wide as the one downstairs. On either side of the hallway were doors, presumably leading into bedrooms. At the end of the hall, the hall turned to the right and continued onward. Like many of the other rooms, a red carpet was laid out across the length of the room. She decided to go through the rooms one by one, starting with the first door on the right.

    The room, as predicted, was a medium-sized bedroom. There were a few armoires and tables in the room, and a small, luxurious bed. Strangely enough, nothing—from the curtains, to the carpet, bed, or tables—seemed to be damaged or covered in any dust… everything felt strangely… pristine. She snapped several pictures. She sat down on the bed briefly. It felt so soft, like she could just lay down and take a long rest… She suddenly felt wrong being in the room. She got up and quickly left. She continued down the hallway to the next room. She had her hand on the door handle when she looked up and to the end of the hallway, and saw a figure standing there. It was tall, thin, and simply horrible. It had long, matted hair, tattered clothing that showed a faint semblance of once being fine clothes. Its eyes were pure white, and its mouth hung open. An orange fluid dripped steadily from both. Rows of sharpened teeth were barely visible poking out past its lips. She slowly began to back away toward the stairs. The figure looked up and straight at her. It let out a horrible hiss, and began running at her! She turned and began to run. To her horror, where the stairs had once been now led into another long hallway. She wondered if she had somehow been turned around, but she didn’t have much time to ponder about it; she simply kept running. As she darted around the corner, she took a quick look back. Whatever it was that was chasing her was gaining on her.

     After a few more twists and turns—which seemed to make the house way larger than it ever should have been—she finally found the stairs. She ran down as fast as possible, almost falling down several times. As she went down, she saw the monster at the top of the stairs. It saw her running down, and it flew after her, bounding down each flight of stairs in a single leap. It was so close to her now. She could hear it gasping and hissing. She could see it, orange blood now gushing from its eyes, ears, and mouth, quickly drenching its pale, warped face. It reached out to grab her, and barely missed. She ran down the hall leading to the foyer—she was so close now! She sprinted as fast as she could, almost out of breath. She reached the turn, and saw… OH GOD, another hallway! She had no time to stop and think, just keep running, and running, and running. She knew she couldn’t slow down, it was faster than her and kept getting closer; she just had to keep running! She swore she saw a set of doors at the end of this hallway. She reached the end, and put her hand on the door, and struggled to fling it open. She opened it, just barely, just barely…! She saw light! She was almost free! Almost free, almost free!

     She screamed those words as it dragged her down an endless hallway. Of course, nobody else would ever know that. Nobody really ever knew what happened to Liza Chambers. Her parents and the police would claim that she ran away from home, maybe met a bad fate somewhere along the way. She always tried to keep up a facade of normalcy, but people really knew that she struggled with her life. Her parents were always fighting, her younger siblings hated her, and she could never quite seem to fit in at school. A perfect recipe for a runaway. At school, the rumor spread that she went into the abandoned mansion by herself. The part about the dare was conveniently lost in translation, erasing any possible idea of blame on anybody else. Her classmates would thus claim she disappeared because she went into the abandoned house at the end of an unassuming street, yet another victim of the house of the Orange Bleeder.


10/6/19 Decembiture (n.)- the time of taking to decorating one's house because of Christmas

Story Telling / Re: BlackDragonSlayer's Short Stories
« on: October 03, 2019, 08:42:30 PM »
Halloween Horror Special 2019 part 1
Because I Love You

    Before I met you, I was a different person, with a different life; a sad person with a sad life. I had no one to turn to, no friends nor family. The former were nonexistent and the latter were never there for me… if not physically absent, then they were always emotionally distant. I was alone, truly alone. My days were spent in horrific loneliness, present in the world but utterly, hopelessly ignored, and my nights in solemn, silent sadness. I think everyday about the life I had before and how I am glad to have met you. Without you I would have been stuck in a miserable life that’s draining on the soul almost beyond what words can express. I was caught in the bowels of depression and had little hope left in life; I fell headfirst into college life not knowing what I was doing; just thought I went there to escape the life at home I knew I couldn’t bear to be around any longer, thought one day I’d wake up screaming left with nothing else to do. Couldn’t dream things would change because all my dreams were nightmares.

    The day I met you, I did not nor could have ever expected that my life would have been so changed in such a short time. We sat next to each other in our first class of sophomore year, and we just kind of stayed there. You weren’t repelled like so many others before seemed to be. There could have been a world where we decided to never speak, but we did, whether through chance, will, or fate. Though, the truth was, it was not that day when my life changed; it would be a while before I truly fell in love you with and my life changed. At first I thought you were just another person like anyone else, but as we got to know each other I saw your inner light and kindness, and realized you were more than just a special person. You glowed and shared your light with all the world around you through your kindness and your empathy. When no one else was there to lend an ear, you were there with open arms and open heart to offer love that no one else could ever seem to spare. Without you I don’t know if things would ever have been looking up; went from a downhill drop to a scenic road, looking forward to every stop where I could take a look at all the things around me with the person I cared about the most. How could I have ever dreamed I would have ever gotten to this point in my life?

    Our love blossomed and grew the more we got to know each other. You saw me for the person I really was inside; you inspired me more and more to be the best person I could possible be. You were there for me when I needed someone to talk to, as was I there for you. We became each other’s closest friend, a person we could truly rely on above all others. We spared every last minute we could to be with one another; we melded our interests whenever possible to find more excuses to be around each other… in fact, we were each other’s greatest interest. A love others said was impossible, it persevered, and grew, and grew. When others proclaimed their love stories to be the greatest, over the years, theirs fell apart while ours stayed true, our humble, quiet kind of love. It lasted through times good and bad, hardened by fire we only got closer.

     We lasted through college, and the terrible waters of adult life afterward, that time when people say you’re supposed to be ready for anything, but truly you’re prepared for nothing. That time when you’re just supposed to jump into life, what all your life has claimed to prepare you for, but no one’s ever really ready. But we were there for each other; we figured things out, slowly but surely, together. We began to forge our lives together: we found work—not the best of careers, but something that was a half-decent start; we found a place to live—a place to raise a family; and we found a purpose—a meaning to our lives that was more than just ourselves. Slowly, we persevered. We always said we would wait to make a family until the point we could see that we were truly on solid ground, and the years passed and nothing changed, but we didn't lose hope. Then one day suddenly things seemed like they had finally changed.

     We knew that was the time of our lives when everything was finally falling into place, like an orchestra, at first a little rusty but slowly finding their rhythm, getting everything ready for their grand symphony performance. It was time to make a family. But it never happened. The universe could not allow our perfect love--it was but an anomaly that would all too quickly be squashed and corrected by the ever-turning cogs of nature, harsh and cruel, cold and merciless. While we lived together, while we loved together, it seemed nothing could go wrong. But now you are dead, and as I mourn you, I look back on all the time we had together and I know what I must do. When you are buried in the ground, I must join you, unbeknownst to all around. As we lived together we must depart from this world together, with me by your side in one shared grave. Because I love you.


Off-Topic / Re: The Post Your Thoughts of the Moment Thread 2
« on: September 30, 2019, 12:53:49 AM »
on today's episode of "noc says the darndest things"

Request / Re: [Arcade] Libble Rabble - "Main Theme"
« on: September 12, 2019, 06:38:22 AM »
Please don't post a massive amount of text at once that's not in a spoiler tag, especially an entire movie script.

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