339 replies to this topic

[Greed-Sama]

Notes on Greed:

Greed is not just a bad thing. Those who want everything, have to want good things as much as they want bad things. It's the nature of the sin.

Notes on romance:

I'm not a believer in eternal love. Never have been. People grow apart, fight, and fall in love with other people, that's the nature of the human condition. Romantic love is different from all kinds of love. Love should be selfless, but romantic love by definition has to be selfish just much as it is selfless. In order to obtain something of equal value must be given up. That's the Law of Equivalent Exchange. If one person fights for the union and the other does not, it will be doomed to fail just as much as if both people decide to abandon the relationship.

Notes on emotions:

You can't have good if you don't experience bad. If you want bad, stoicism is the only way to go, and even then you're not guaranteed a problem-free life.



Just ramblings that I thought of last night after not sleeping. Enjoy at your own leisure.

[Toasty Warrior]

That does seem interesting, what to explain what got you to post that Omega?

[Phantom_999]

Notes on Greed:

Greed is not just a bad thing. Those who want everything, have to want good things as much as they want bad things. It's the nature of the sin.

Notes on romance:

I'm not a believer in eternal love. Never have been. People grow apart, fight, and fall in love with other people, that's the nature of the human condition. Romantic love is different from all kinds of love. Love should be selfless, but romantic love by definition has to be selfish just much as it is selfless. In order to obtain something of equal value must be given up. That's the Law of Equivalent Exchange. If one person fights for the union and the other does not, it will be doomed to fail just as much as if both people decide to abandon the relationship.

Notes on emotions:

You can't have good if you don't experience bad. If you want bad, stoicism is the only way to go, and even then you're not guaranteed a problem-free life.



Just ramblings that I thought of last night after not sleeping. Enjoy at your own leisure.

Greed isn't bad, just don't value stuff over people and become ignorant of other's sufferings. Love is a choice I say. Even when you fall in love with someone else, will you commit to them? What love is, ultimately is if Someone is worth staying with and giving your devotion. Any kind of love is basically that. Intimacy and bonds are factors to that choice.

Edited by Phantom_999, 11 February 2012 - 12:56 AM.

[Greed-Sama]

I was told that I would have to get through this week without you.

I doubt that I will be able to do it, but you believe in me so I believe in me because I believe in you.

This is Day 1 of my miniseries:

~ No Soup For You

You drive out of town and leave me in a blanket of snow. I don't even get a snow day. I can tell this is going to be a very long week. But I digress. You plant those seeds...I hope it's freezing. Not really. I wouldn't want you freezing your little ":3" face off, now would I?

I told the RP to halt until you post because, well Ayla seems to have become a focus character.

Lol. I don't even know if you'll see them during the week or what, but I thought I would have a total of five messages for you when you get back.

~ End of Day 1.

Status: Green.

[Greed-Sama]

Day 2 of my miniseries:

~ No Soup For You

Seeds grow into grass and grass into...........POP.

POP POP POP POP POP POP



Do you see what you've done?

It's like I can't stop myself now. I've beating back the people who say soda and coke with sticks. Almost got arrested too. Cops came after me and I had to climb up a church. Jumped off into a WalMart and was fine. Tons of people in those stores to break my fall.

Mole says you're a creep. So I slapped him. <3

I do a lot for my soup.

~ End of Day 2

Status: Orange.

[Miss Soupy]

...POP

[Phantom_999]

What kind of pop are you thinking of?

Edited by Phantom_999, 15 February 2012 - 10:02 PM.

[KonaKonaFan]

.... As in the onomatopoeia?

[Toasty Warrior]

The sexual undertones are through the roof.

[Greed-Sama]

Work in progress of a short story I'm writing: (Please give feedback)

1st Scene --Click here to view--

“Mister, can I help you?”

I’m lost in thought. For the past twenty minutes my mind has been attempting to memorize every detail of this violet’s petal. Its aroma. Its velvety texture. Its physical composition. I’ve been trying to reacquaint myself. These are minor things that people take for granted, but are still able to appreciate from time to time. I barely remember they exist. But here I am, trying to find a tangible detail to embrace.

“You know, I see you in here every year on Valentine’s Day. How come you’ve never bought anything?”

My attention is diverted and my time’s been wasted. Everything lost down the drain.

The frail and withered voice of this woman is synonymous with her own physical stature, but in spite of it, she’s still earned my aggravation. She probably doesn’t even remember, but she’s asked me this question before, annually in fact. Ever since she was a little girl making her way through adolescence. Can’t really blame her for senility. Just comes with the territory.

“I’m waiting for the right time,” I say.

Her eyes are blank and I laugh with a pinch of ridicule thrown in. My words weren’t meant to be cryptic, but it serves my purpose, regardless. People are little more than a nuisance to me nowadays. Their good actions are of little importance to me, but actions on the opposite end of the spectrum are downright disgusting.

Hell, if I were to describe human nature as being a pendulum, something that swung back and forth between extremes but never really moved forward, it’d have to be taken for absolute truth. The whole of the population is forgettable. Generalizations speaking of course.

“Sonny, it’s best not to waste time. We only have so many minutes on this Earth before the Lord calls us back to be with him.”

I shake my head, disappointed by the display of ignorance. Sifting through my wallet, I hand the woman a twenty, pick up the violet, and exit the flower store. It’s dropped out of my hand, and falls to the scarred surface of the sidewalk. The bottom of my shoe meets with the plant’s petals smearing it out of existence.

If there really is a God, he abandoned me long ago.

2nd scene --Click here to view--

“If you’re going to sit here and distract me, the least you could do is help,” she said, throwing the dirt at my face.

I slapped my hand down, changing the majority of the soil’s trajectory, and brushed off any remnants from my clothes. There was no malicious intent in Meg’s actions, quite the opposite in fact. My wife just happened to be a tease when she was working in her pet garden.

Her shoulder-length, auburn hair that glowed in the setting sun. The light freckle situated at the corner of her right eye, disappearing whenever she smiled. Soft skin imprinted with a farmer’s tan. Dirt-stained knees. This was her element, and I loved every moment seeing her in it.

Pulling up my slacks to a respectable level, hoping they wouldn’t receive the impending dirt bath, I slid off the wooden fence and joined my wife, squatting beside her, in the labor of the fields.

“So what are we planting this year?” I asked.

She cocked her head to the side and laughed, “We?”

“Well, yeah. I figure if you’re going to complain, then I should be-“

She kissed me with her rosy and supple lips, “You’re such a dork. I rather you sit there and keep your hands off the plants. They didn’t do anything to you.”

“You act like I’m going to systematically kill them off or something.”

The forceful lift of her right eyebrow made me throw up my hands in a defensive gesture and fall back onto my posterior.

“Okay, okay. I don’t have the best green thumb, but that doesn’t mean-“

The unwavering face and the powerful silence she wielded evoked my surrender.

“Fine, you win. I’ll just sit here like a good husband and cheer you on from the sidelines.”

Her lips broke out into a predatory smirk. She patted my head, took me into a full kiss, and then pushed me onto my back.

“It annoys me that I can never get anything done when you’re around,” she said.

3rd Scene --Click here to view--

“Doc, I know I’m no medical expert, but that can’t be right,” I said.

The doctor nodded his head in agreement and then handed me his clipboard, “See for yourself. The data baffles me just as…no probably even more than you.”

“Did you double check the results?”

“I ran test after test myself. I haven’t micromanaged like that since I was working in research removing the tumors off lab mice. I can guarantee you that everything’s accurate.”

The laugh that followed was a blur between maniacal and sane. I buried my face in my palm and continued delving into insanity. Even though I couldn’t see the doctor’s face, I could only imagine the level of distortion present. It wasn’t everyday a patient broke down in his office. But no matter what I showcased, he remained silent.

After ten minutes the laughing transformed into mixed tears of happiness and sadness. Anger and frustration began to flood in, as the swirl of emotions became a whirlpool of destructive forces. And then it all stops.

I looked up at the man whose gaze never left my figure. He was seated back in his chair, the tips of his fingers meeting.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” I said, “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that.”

“No need to apologize. I couldn’t even imagine what you’d be going through.”

“You think this will ever go away? I mean, I have a feeling that living without aging isn’t exactly what it’s cracked up to be. Not to mention what the misses is going to think.”

“Well it’s not just aging. Your cells replicate themselves with a surprising degree of speed so basically you heal almost instantaneously, and they appear to be immune to pathogens as well.”

I exhaled a heavy sigh. I knew the prognosis that I was being handed. “Then what do you think I should do?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to give you those answers. “

4th Scene --Click here to view--

The usual bustling city came to a dead halt that night. It had been called at 3:04 a.m. The white blanket had been pulled over her corpse, eyes shut for the last time. I had planned to spend the remainder of the early morning alone on top of the hospital’s roof, looking out at the brightly lit downtown district. Nothing could be more relaxing than feeling the bitter wind lash its way across my face.

Besides the clothes on my back, I carried only a violet that I had harvested from her garden. It seemed like years were passing as I sat completely motionless, minus my fingers, which were smothering the flower’s stem out of existence as I rolled it back and forth between my thumb and index finger. A pair of wandering headlights snapped my attention back to reality.

I stood up and made my way to the building’s edge. Assuming the pavement was fifty feet below and ignoring air resistance, it would take about seven seconds to crash into the bottom. It wouldn’t help. Suicide was an impossible feat for me. I was imprisoned on Earth, and for the unforeseeable future, I would remain that way.

Meg never blamed me for what happened, though. Never hated me because her life was stolen and mine could never be taken or given. In fact, she was envious that I would get to learn all of the world’s secrets. According to her I would get to experience things that people could only imagine, and from where I stood that much was true.

What she didn’t realize was that in the normal adult human’s life span, someone could experience enough to feel content at the their deathbed. Or maybe she did know, and died with a mind full of regrets. I would be unable to forgive myself if that had been the case. I guess it was a blessing that I would never be able to know the answer. The only blessing I would be allowed. It wouldn’t be long before this cycle began anew.

I heard footsteps behind me, and turned my head to assess their origins.

“You’re really not supposed to be up here, Mr. Spence,” said the lithe figured doctor standing in the stairwell of the roof access. Her voice was soft but soothing, and I recognized it well. She had been the one to help my wife through the early stages of her diagnosis and her chemotherapy and through the final stages of her life.

“Suppose you’re right, Ms. Potter,” I said, “But I don’t really feel like listening, today.”
“I could always call the police.”

“Do what you have to, I’m not stopping you.”

I turned back to face the empty city and then took a seat, letting my feet dangle off the ledge. The doctor took her place by my side, and an arrogant smirk crawled its way onto my face.

“I thought you were calling the cops,” I said.

“I’m not that great at bluffing.”

“Kind of obvious, hm?”

5th Scene --Click here to view--

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Elissa said, breathing in the moisture that the thunderous waterfall was pumping into the air.

“Well I got tired of looking at rolling hills and plains,” I said as I gently rubbed the back of my head, “So I thought we could use a change of scenery.”

“It’s wonderful!”

My heart was beating at an abnormal rate, as the adrenal glands in my body secreted enormous doses of the “fight or flight” compound. Fifty years did nothing to temper the nervous wreck that I sometimes became when putting my heart on the line.

I situated myself beside my significant other and stared at the water, watching as volumes after volumes plummeted to the river below. The liquid properties of hydrogen dioxide were a good distraction. I was astonished that Elissa hadn’t noticed my incessant need, following a sense of deep paranoia that I had lost some valuable contents, to reach for my right pocket.

“Would you stop fidgeting so much, you’ve been doing this the entire way here,” Elissa said, “And you’re making me nervous.”

I was forced to turn my head away from her. The blood and warmth in my cheeks would have been a red flag to my intentions, and I couldn’t have that. Not yet. But the time for the perfect opportunity was drifting away. Slowly slipping my hand into the jean pocket, I enclosed my hand over the velvet jewelry box that contained a silver ring encrusted with diamonds.

I held a laugh in. Graphite and diamonds are both made out of carbon. The only difference is in the reorganization of the molecules and their bonds. One can break easily; the other is the hardest natural substance known to man. And yet diamonds drive women crazy.

When proposing to Meg, I had been a classy gentleman. We went to a prestigious restaurant, ordered the finest wine, and then when the time came, I knelt on one knee and offered the engagement band to my beloved’s hand. This time would be completely different.

At least proposals would never get boring for me.

“Elissa, will you marry me?” I asked, popping out the piece of jewelry and holding it directly between her humble green eyes.

She grabbed the ring but dropped it before she was able to slip it on her finger.

“Oops.”

Edited by TheOmegaMan, 20 February 2012 - 04:17 AM.

[Miss Soupy]

Poor Meggy ;_;

I'm interested to see what happens next!

[Toasty Warrior]

I like how the story is going so far Omega, let's hear some more.

[Greed-Sama]

Onto to my next project. A braided essay: the combination of two memories that are intertwined to tell a story. Thoughts and opinions please.

The Sum of Its Parts --Click here to view--

“You may begin.”

With the click of the woman’s stopwatch, the machine churned. Seven minutes. The cast of parts scattered, each ready to perform its specified task.

Of the eighteen teenagers, fifteen were dispersed to lift the UIL regulation set pieces and bring them back to their designated positions on the pitch-black stage, the patches of neon electrical tape used to distinguish those carefully rehearsed locations being the only exception. The other three, myself included, began placing a pre-made light tree on each of the stage’s two wings. When the tripod stand was locked in place, Sam Gustafon, a teddy bear of a man with the gut to match, reached into the crew’s collective black bag, retrieved a monkey wrench adorned with a red handle, and began to use his considerable upper boy strength to fasten the gobo lights at a fixed angle. That left J.J. and myself to sort out the knotted nest of green and orange extension cords, and lay them neatly along the back of the stage. We connected the two sets of lights to a light board, a small contraption the size of a modern Webster dictionary with sliders on the top that would allow Sam to adjust the intensity of the gobos, and then plugged the light board into the stage-wall’s outlet. Backstage work completed.

By this time the fifteen actors had finished assembling the Lego Bricks into a recognizable set. I picked up the two instruments that I would be responsible for within the next forty-five minutes and scurried off to the wing at stage left. The Rimers of Eldritch required a minimal five sound effects, four hits of a gavel to the top-half of a sawed-through school desk, and the slamming of a six-foot 1’ x 4’ plank against the stage’s floor.

I turned my head back to center stage, watching as the gobos flickered on to a dim setting and each of the cast member’s bodies became rigid as they grew into human trees. Sounds of rope scraping along metal rippled through the auditorium, the gigantic red curtain parting.

The machine halts and the beep of the stopwatch clocks in at five minutes and forty-two seconds. Plenty of time to spare.



“You have one objective,” Dizzy kitten said, “You’re to get every member of your cast on the opposite side of the web, all while making sure that this spider doesn’t fall. Make it fall, and I’ll make your job that much harder.”

The rubber toy wobbled back and forth, as the camp instructor set it on a horizontally oriented strand of the steel cable that constituted the “web.” Everyone’s face became a slanted mess.

“And to top it off, you can only use a hole once. Now go!”

An eruption of cacophony shattered the peaceful ambience of the wintertime woods. Barking orders and the jumbled chaos of mixed pitches became the steady norm. The blurs of limbs and lips were fierce. Our director shielded her eyes and shook her head, taking a seat on a nearby wooden bench that had some major termite damage.

“We should send the bigger individuals through the bottom!” someone shouted.

“No, let’s send the smaller people over first so we don’t have to worry about them!”

“What are you talking about? That’s a stupid idea!”

I remained silent as the sun continued to rise.



Skelly, the Rimers of Eldritch’s resident hobo and lunatic, cowered behind a human tree upstage and watched as fourteen-year old Eva Jackson and sixteen-year old Driver Jr. experienced a seemingly ordinary adolescent argument. I readied the plank.
Eva had not only questioned Driver’s manhood but began to buck up against him. The boy’s voice rose in amplification, and he then proceeded to push Eva into the ground. Driver Jr. straddled Eva as he fell to his knees, pinning her wrists underneath the joints. Her shouts of terror and her fruitless flailing elicited only a predatory grin from her male counterpart. Eva’s blouse took the role of the next tragedy as it was shredded.

The climax of the play was upon us. Skelly ran across the stage, through the forest of human trees, and assaulted Driver Jr. with a bone-jarring tackle. The adolescent was sent tumbling downstage.

“What’s going on?” a character asked, the question not belonging to Skelly, Eva, or Driver Jr.

Placing my foot on the middle of the board, I slammed down with every fiber of my being, causing the piece of wood to dismantle. Hushed gasps rushed in from the audience as they realized that Nelly, the passerby character, possessed a prop with striking similarities to a shotgun.

Only Skelly moved as he clutched onto his chest in agonizing pain. All were silent as the “lunatic” floated to the ground. With the man’s final breath, an exaggerated one, the human trees melted back into their original biological form. Eva began to shed silent tears as the weapon was passed from cast member to cast member. It passed down the chain until it ended in the hands of the judge, who placed the firearm in Driver’s lap.

“Skelly did it,” the young boy said.

The main stage lights faded to black. The gobos dimmed out and off. Thunderous applause was started, but there was no time for bows. The curtains were shut and the machine churned once more. Seven minutes on the clock.

[Greed-Sama]

It has been a while since I've posted in this. My bad. >.>;;;

[Shadow Wolf]

It has been a while since I've posted in this. My bad. >.>;;;

Why not update? How've you been and how's life treating you?

[Greed-Sama]

Why not update? How've you been and how's life treating you?

 

Yeah, I was going to have a massive update tomorrow. And talk about some of the games and movies and anime I've finished. 

 

Greed-sama!   How've you been? How're your stories and school going? 

They are going well. Getting close to actually being able to be read by the public. 

[Greed-Sama]

Nothing makes a week longer than when you're broke. Lol. I literally have no idea how much my next paycheck will be, but I'm hoping it's more than last, which was - 34$

 

Last week though was awesome. Came back to Arkansas running off of the A-kon high. Got a lot of things done. 

 

The Keepers is starting to look like a full story now, which is awesome. I'm hoping Miss Soupy and I can find some artists who enjoy drawing and would like to earn some commissions soon. I feel that is a major hurdle. 

 

Also finished some of the stuff in my backlog. Finished FFXIII all the way through. Finished Bioshock Infinite, my favorite game I have ever played. LIterally chilled my whole body at the end. Started and finished Halo 4, which was meh. Watched SAO and Shingeki no Kyojin. I am in love with Mikasa DX 

[Greed-Sama]

RIP Logan. I love you buddy :(

[StriderC]

I'm jealous! You can play the drums! I'm a huge music guy as well. Lyricist, singer and I'm thinking about taking up guitar lessons when I get the time.