Make Your Move 3.0: It's over, it's done, moving on.

[TWILTHERO]

The sse looks really good Chris. i like how BK is in the story

Spoiler

ALTHOUGH you are REALLY tempting me to make a Sse myself. if i didn`t fail so hard in my english class, i would be working on 1 right now =p.

 

[MasterWarlord]

You're already up to chapter 3, chris? Wow. I only saw the prolouge. *Goes to check the rest of your story in your sig*

Nightmare doesn't refer to himself in the 3rd person, and pretty much always shouts whenever he speaks, which means his text should be in all caps. and I think you -are- showing too much bias by making Ashencroft too overpowered in the canon of the SSE. Mewtwo is one of the most canonically powerful characters there is, having him be unable to make Ashencroft flinch is enough to make one raises an eyebrow or two. The willingness of how easy these major baddies join irks me, and it'd probably be better if you made them all more reluctant. You're making them go slightly OOC with the cheesy dialouge, which is why I usually avoid it or be sure to give all characters justice.

 

[smashbot226]

I've just finished MGS4 again on my PS3.

I must admit, this game beats the living hell out of ANY Wii game.

Even Brawl. And Melee.

Yes, I would admit that all of the Smash games are worse than MGS4.

It is the best reason to buy a PS3.

I may make a moveset for:

I plan to mimic Dracula's moveset layout, and with my creative genius (Face it, I have one.), this moveset could become that alongside Dracula.

 

[TVTMaster]

Lolz at complaint generator. I decided to test it with a joke name, and it turned out astonishingly accurate.

Spoiler

My goal for this letter is to fight the warped, distorted, misshapen, unwholesome monstrosity that Mr. Barack 5 Obama I's op-ed pieces have become. I shall do this in the only honest way that I can, which is by simply setting forth those principles that I personally believe in and that I personally observe and honor. To begin at the beginning, a great many of us don't want Obama to require religious services around the world to begin with "Obama is great; Obama is good; we thank Obama for our daily food". But we feel a prodigious societal pressure to smile, to be nice, and not to object to Obama's ill-bred squibs. His philippics express themselves in thousandfold manifestations, with one of Obama's apple-polishers in despair and hopelessness, with another in ill will, anger, and indignation, with these baleful, garrulous hatemongers in indifference, and with those in furious excesses. He says that society is supposed to be lenient towards intransigent, egocentric popinjays. Should we care that large numbers of unsympathetic bludgers actually believe such prurient things? Should we try to convince them otherwise? I don't think so. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that we must reach out to people with the message that he tries to assert his autonomy by attempting to subject human beings to indignities. We must alert people of that. We must educate them. We must inspire them. And we must encourage them to lead Obama out of a dream world and back to hard reality.

Anyone who takes even a cursory glance at this letter will quickly discover that Obama is squarely in favor of mandarinism and its propensity to see to it that all patriotic endeavors are directed down blind alleys where they end in frustration and discouragement. This is so typical of Obama: he condemns bigotry and injustice except when it benefits him personally. He is known for fabricating evidence. While this lighthearted statement adds sorely needed humor to an otherwise tense situation, he says that everyone would be a lot safer if he were to monitor all of our personal communications and financial transactions -- even our library records. Why on Earth does he need to monitor our library records? All I can do now is give you a bare-bones answer and then let you dig into it yourself. To understand the basic answer you need to realize that an unholy alliance of politically incorrect muttonheads and imperious prophets of pharisaism has been instrumental in devising increasingly patronizing ways to disguise the complexity of color, the brutality of class, and the importance of religion and sexual identity in the construction and practice of Maoism. You may have detected a hint of sarcasm in the way I phrased that last statement but I assure you that I am not exaggerating the situation. I hardly need to tell you that I've managed to come up with a way in which Obama's essays could be made useful. His essays could be used by the instructors of college courses as a final examination of sorts. Any student who can't find at least 20 errors of fact or fatuous statement automatically flunks. Extra credit goes to students who realize that Obama claims to have data supporting his assertion that violence and prejudice are funny. Naturally, he insists that he can't actually show us that data -- for some unspecified reason, of course. My guess is that he's hiding something. Maybe he's hiding the fact that some people have indicated that you shouldn't let yourself be flummoxed by his fast talk and air of self-confidence. I can neither confirm nor deny that statement, but I can say that I am now in a position to define what I mean when I say that Obama runs like a scared rabbit whenever his perceptions are challenged by someone with courage, conviction, and a love of Truth. What I mean is that the point is that if everyone spent just five minutes a day thinking about ways to give our propaganda fighters an instrument that is very much needed at this time, we'd all be a lot better off. Is five minutes a day too much to ask for the promise of a better tomorrow? I sure hope not, but then again, sometime in the future Obama will eroticize relations of dominance and subordination. Fortunately, that hasn't happened...yet. But it will certainly happen if we don't compare, contrast, and identify the connections among different kinds of disagreeable autism.

Obama is trying to turn a deaf ear to need and suffering. His mission? To supplant one form of injustice with another. He has become so morally and ideologically degraded, so acclimated to solipsism and poststructuralism, that he wants to bowdlerize all unfavorable descriptions of his conclusions. End of story. Actually, I should add that his latest manifesto, like all the ones that preceded it, is a consummate anthology of disastrously bad writing teeming with misquotations and inaccuracies, an odyssey of anecdotes that are occasionally entertaining but certainly not informative.

No matter what else we do, our first move must be to educate everyone about how Obama's précis are dangerous to the health of a democracy. That's the first step: education. Education alone is not enough, of course. We must also complain about the worst sorts of ghastly, clumsy lowlifes there are. Personally, I don't expect Obama to give up his crusade to scorn and abjure reason. But we'll see.

If an attempt to make mountains out of molehills isn't footling, it certainly is jaundiced. Should someone think that I am saying too much, I am not saying too much but much too little. For I am aware that many people may object to the severity of my language. But is there no cause for severity? Naturally, I claim that there is because Obama's the type of person who will trump up any lie for the occasion, and the more of a thumper it is, the better he likes it. I must emphasize that what I wrote just a moment ago is not the paranoid rambling of a muddleheaded, possession-obsessed wacko. It's a fact. Even though Obama finds it easier to discuss other people's problems than his own, this does not negate the fact that many people lie. However, Obama lies with such ease it's troubling. Finally, if this letter generates a response from someone of opposing viewpoints, I would hope that the author(s) concentrate on offering objections to my ideas while refraining from attacks on my person or my intelligence. I've gotten enough of that already from Mr. Barack 5 Obama I.

Anyway I need to get back to work on my Pom Pom moveset.

 

[Chris Lionheart]

You're already up to chapter 3, chris? Wow. I only saw the prolouge. *Goes to check the rest of your story in your sig*

Nightmare doesn't refer to himself in the 3rd person, and pretty much always shouts whenever he speaks, which means his text should be in all caps. and I think you -are- showing too much bias by making Ashencroft too overpowered in the canon of the SSE. Mewtwo is one of the most canonically powerful characters there is, having him be unable to make Ashencroft flinch is enough to make one raises an eyebrow or two. The willingness of how easy these major baddies join irks me, and it'd probably be better if you made them all more reluctant. You're making them go slightly OOC with the cheesy dialouge, which is why I usually avoid it or be sure to give all characters justice.

I figured someone would mention that.

What would you really expect from an arch-villain who is being powered up by another arch-villain. It will hurt.

I might as well reveal that all of the recruited villains will be final bosses. (And none of them will have such overpoweredness them).

I even tried to reduce bias by requiring that you defeat each of the villains in order to recruit them.

Oh and I haven't played Soul Caliber. I was taking a guess when I made him speak in 3rd person. But I'll fix that. Sorry.

 

[MasterWarlord]

@Chris: If he actually is somehow insanely godlike to the level that another godlike character such as Mewtwo can't scratch him, it makes me wonder why he can't do everything himself. Why can't he go and easily slay everyone? How is it possible that Chris is his arch rival when Ashencroft is so insanely powerful? I'd also like an explanation in general as to how Ashencroft is so canonically powerful.

Also. . .What does Ashencroft use in his army? Demons like himself? Right now I just have to generically refer to them as "Ashencroft's forces/army/troops". I'd like to know for my SSE, as the next world includes both him and Chris.

@Smashbot: Toon Link and Yoda were decent, but I wouldn't put them on the pedestal the best movesets in the topic sit on. There have been big improvements throughout the topic, (My own, TwiltHero's, yours.) so if you can match Dracula I'd applaud the effort. Although stealing the interface might give the wrong impression. . .

And just to lower Dracula off his godlike pedestal, Dracula has as much of a role in the SSE as Sonic does, meaning he's only in it at the end and it's not at all necessary, just being thrown in.

@TVTMaster: Glad to see another republican on these boards. Obama's spewed out far too many lies and is too inexperienced to be trustworthy. His ties to Reverend Wright makes him a complete abomination.

 

[Shadow5567]

This is SOOOO anoying! Whenever I come here I gotta play catch up but, when I'm finally caught up, the thread comes to a halt!

 

[MasterWarlord]

Sorry that there isn't a new post every 5 minutes. You waited a whole day for the dojo updates each day, did you not? You can wait for some posts. If you want it to get more involved, why not actually comment on what's happening in the thread? You don't even have to post about what most recently happened, you can comment on anyone's moveset you wish. It gets you more regognized and helps move the thread along.

 

[Shadow5567]

Hmmm, okay why not, I'll comment on the whole Monanoke thing....

I'll admit, I at first thought the movie was extremley awsome but then I found out the movie was a complete and under FAIL! why? because the ending was FAIL!!! I don't remeber the movie all that well but it was clear the were in love, you were waiting for them to get together, AND THEN? No, they decide to both go back to their own territories, for that B*****d couldn't cope with the forest. Regardless, I have never been so pissed at a movie so I guess that does make it good

P.S. DBZ is THE original anime, it brought us all that is today! I don't see how you can diss it

 

[Chris Lionheart]

@Chris: If he actually is somehow insanely godlike to the level that another godlike character such as Mewtwo can't scratch him, it makes me wonder why he can't do everything himself. Why can't he go and easily slay everyone? How is it possible that Chris is his arch rival when Ashencroft is so insanely powerful? I'd also like an explanation in general as to how Ashencroft is so canonically powerful.

Also. . .What does Ashencroft use in his army? Demons like himself? Right now I just have to generically refer to them as "Ashencroft's forces/army/troops". I'd like to know for my SSE, as the next world includes both him and Chris.

@Smashbot: Toon Link and Yoda were decent, but I wouldn't put them on the pedestal the best movesets in the topic sit on. There have been big improvements throughout the topic, (My own, TwiltHero's, yours.) so if you can match Dracula I'd applaud the effort. Although stealing the interface might give the wrong impression. . .

And just to lower Dracula off his godlike pedestal, Dracula has as much of a role in the SSE as Sonic does, meaning he's only in it at the end and it's not at all necessary, just being thrown in.

@TVTMaster: Glad to see another republican on these boards. Obama's spewed out far too many lies and is too inexperienced to be trustworthy. His ties to Reverend Wright makes him a complete abomination.

Ashencroft is a demon who escaped from hell so to speak. He manipulates a human army. Chris isn't his arch-enemy so much based on his strength but because of his selflessness (sort of like being "blessed" by God if you choose to believe in that.) So yeah... Ashencroft's power is the result of being a demon (he isn't Satan or anything like that).

Oh and I'm a Republican to. I'm rooting against Osama Obama myself.

Yeah I was really disappointed with the ending myself. But it wasn't as bad as you put it (certainly not an epic fail.) Notice that he said he would "visit" her when possible. That leaves room for a romantic relationship. Hell, they could even become a permanent couple after Irontown is rebuilt.

 

[Delta_BP26]

To hell with you Republicans...

 

[BKupa666]

@MasterWarlord, thx for the comments. I do plan to have every character in my SSE (even Dracula) playable at some point in the story, even sometimes when they are not on your team. As will be shown in my next level...

and I'm Republican too

 

[darkserenade]

To hell with you Republicans...

Good thing we have crossout abilities on Smashboards, otherwise we would have had a big problem....

 

[Delta_BP26]

I know right?

 

[MarthTrinity]

Lolwut? Since when did this thread turn into politics central? Movesets here, politics somewhere else please.

I like to argue politics and this is so tempting but I'll stay on topic.

 

[MasterWarlord]

Guns? Absence of religion? Lack of self-esteem? Poor parenting? The entertainment industry? Who's to blame for Sen. Barack Husen Obama's bookish precepts? Numerous professionals (and not-so-professionals) have speculated and mulled, publicly and privately, over what has caused Sen. Obama to pour a few drops of wormwood into our general enthusiasm. What follows is a call to action for those of us who care -- a large enough number to build an inclusive, nondiscriminatory movement for social and political change.

Implying that Sen. Obama's methods of interpretation provide a liberating insight into life, the universe, and everything is no different from implying that censorship could benefit us. Both statements are ludicrous. It doesn't do us much good to become angry and wave our arms and shout about the evils of Sen. Obama's apologues in general terms. If we want other people to agree with us and join forces with us, then we must make technical preparations for the achievement of freedom and human independence.

Although I respect Sen. Obama's right to free speech just as I respect it for disingenuous, impetuous rumormongers, caustic renegades, and delirious gasbags, it's really not bloody-mindedness that compels me to challenge his unenlightened, lubricious assumptions about merit. It's my sense of responsibility to you, the reader. To oppose absolutism, we must oppose ruffianism. To oppose libertinism, we must oppose favoritism. And to oppose Sen. Obama, we must oppose presumptuous freaks of nature. Nit-picky Jacobinism is a disgrace to humanity but it cannot be eliminated by moral lectures or by pious intentions. No, it can be eradicated only if we stand by our principles and be true to them on all occasions, in all places, against all foes, and at whatever cost. He deserves to be punished. What are the lessons for us in this? First, it's that he should be regarded as a bêete noire. And second, he cannot tolerate the world as it is. He needs to live in a world of fantasies. To be more specific, Sen. Obama uses big words like "protobasidiomycetous" to make himself sound important. For that matter, benevolent Nature has equipped another puny creature, the skunk, with a means of making itself seem important, too. Although Sen. Obama's rejoinders may reek like a skunk, Sen. Obama's nepotism-prone dupes accept on faith that mysticism forms the core of any utopian society. But that's not all: If he gets his way, I might very well die a slow and painful death.

Although this may come as a surprise to some readers, the key to Sen. Obama's soul is his longing for the effortless, irresponsible, automatic consciousness of an animal. He dreads the necessity, the risk, and the responsibility of rational cognition. As a result, this makes me fearful that I might someday find myself in the crosshairs of Sen. Obama's ornery musings. (To be honest, though, it wouldn't be the first time.) After being called a xenophobic, hideous skinhead a hundred times or so by Sen. Obama and his apostles, I have reached the conclusion that Sen. Obama claims that he acts in the public interest. That claim is preposterous and, to use Sen. Obama's own language, overtly dishonest. No history can justify it. According to him, most people believe that those who disagree with him should be cast into the outer darkness, should be shunned, should starve. Really? Does Sen. Obama have some sort of mind-reading ability or did he get his information from a less reliable source? This isn't such an easy question to answer, but let me take a stab at it: If you think that this is humorous or exaggerated, you're wrong.

I can't predict the future, but I do know this: Only by striving to stop the Huns at the gate can I tell Sen. Obama what we all think of him -- and boy, do I have some choice words I'd like to use. Sad, but true. And it'll only get worse if Sen. Obama finds a way to galvanize an impertinent hysteria, a large-scale version of the birdbrained mentality that can extend his fifteen minutes of fame to fifteen months. Even if oleaginous braggarts join his band with the best of intentions, they will still contaminate or cut off our cities' water supply by the end of the decade. Not all, I hasten to add, do join with the best of intentions. He doesn't care about freedom, as he can neither eat it nor put it in the bank. It's just a word to him.

Sen. Obama says that the Queen of England heads up the international drug cartel. But then he turns around and says that he is a refined gentleman with the soundest education and morals you can imagine. You know, you can't have it both ways, Sen. Obama. If I understand his calumnies correctly, then he says that he needs a little more time to clean up his act. As far as I'm concerned, his time has run out. I don't know when lexiphanicism became chic, but the only thing protecting the people of this world from Sen. Obama's malicious exegeses is our love of freedom and concern for justice. Sadly, lack of space prevents me from elaborating further. Despite total incompetence, Sen. Obama is often afflicted with an amazing conceit that causes him to eviscerate freedom of speech and sexual privacy rights.

I want to improve the physical and spiritual quality of life for the population at present and for those yet to come. That may seem simple enough, but if it turns out that there's obviously no way to prevent Sen. Obama from breaking down our communities then I guess it'll be time to throw my cards on the table and call it quits. I'll just have to give up trying to reach the broadest possible audience with the message that Sen. Obama makes it a point to force us to tailor our words just to suit his shameless whims and accept the fact that it is more than a purely historical question to ask, "How did Sen. Obama's reign of terror start?" or even the more urgent question, "How might it end?". No, we must ask, "Why is it that 99 times out of 100, Sen. Obama uses people and destroys lives without compunction?" Well, while you're deliberating over that, let me ask you another question: Why can't Sen. Obama relieve his aching sense of inadequacy without having to condemn children to a life of drugs, gangs, drinking, ****, incest, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and a number of other horrors? Now, not to bombard you with too many questions, but he ought to unstop his ears and uncover his eyes. Only then will Sen. Obama hear that to which he has been too long heedless. Only then will he see that he exhibits an air of superiority. You realize, of course, that that's really just a defense mechanism to cover up his obvious inferiority.

I am reminded of the quote, "He should show some class." This comment is not as lethargic as it seems because there is still hope for our society, real hope -- not the false sense of hope that comes from the mouths of brusque lotharios but the hope that makes you eager to issue a call to conscience and reason. Posterity will have little occasion to glorify Sen. Obama's "heroic" existence in a new epic. Not that I've come to expect any better from Sen. Obama.

Even as I write those words I can feel Sen. Obama cringe. That's okay. Cringe. I don't care because it has been said that he would have you believe that no one is smart enough to see through his transparent lies. I believe that to be true. I also believe that we need to look beyond the most immediate and visible problems with Sen. Obama. We need to look at what is behind these problems and understand that like a verbal magician, Sen. Obama knows how to lie without appearing to be lying, how to bury secrets in mountains of garbage-speak.

I could go on and on about Sen. Obama's special form of quislingism but you get the general idea. I know more about particularism than most people. You might even say that I'm an expert on the subject. I can therefore state with confidence that Sen. Obama coins polysyllabic neologisms to make his hatchet jobs sound like they're actually important. In fact, his treatises are filled to the brim with words that have yet to appear in any accepted dictionary. Are you prepared to discuss this, Sen. Obama? I, not being one of the many witless yokels of this world, would like to go on, but I do have to keep this letter short. So I'll wrap it up by saying that the entire premise of Sen. Barack Husen Obama's apothegms is incredibly offensive to any self-respecting person.

 

[LUVTOY77-ROGUE WIREFRAME]

and I think you -are- showing too much bias by making Ashencroft too overpowered in the canon of the SSE. Mewtwo is one of the most canonically powerful characters there is, having him be unable to make Ashencroft flinch is enough to make one raises an eyebrow or two. The willingness of how easy these major baddies join irks me, and it'd probably be better if you made them all more reluctant.

Mewtwo would murder Ashencroft and piss on his grave...
Okay i have no idea who Ashencroft is, but I agree--Mewtwo isn't afraid of death, and isn't into negotiating. He takes all or nothing... well, he takes all, so Ashencroft would be wise to let him think 'all' is his pay. Serious ***-kissing would have to be done on Ashencroft's part...!

Otehr than that, me likey.

 

[Chief Mendez]

My God. Can we please stop with this silly complain generator thing? I'm not even really participating in the day-to-day discussion here, and it still bothers me.

Have the balls to write your own stupidly-long posts, a'ight?

 

[MarthTrinity]

Ashencroft is a pretty cool guy, eh is Chris Lionheart's original character and doesn't afraid of anything.

And I agree with Mendez, isn't this thread about movesets o_O?

 

[darkserenade]

So nice to see fellow republicans.^_^

And I agree with Mendez, isn't this thread about movesets o_O?

No its not. Who told you that?

 

[MasterWarlord]

I normally try to keep it on topic, but there are times when the topic gets derailed by others. This is the first time I've really joined in on it, I haven't used the complaint generator in a while.

On the contrary, Mendez, it's impossible to have balls and not use complaint generators for long posts, as that gained time must be spent persuing females. Do you not get out besides for your meatery job?

 

[MarthTrinity]

The Republicans, they must've lied to me again =O

Spoiler

zing =D

 

[Chief Mendez]

On the contrary, Mendez, it's impossible to have balls and not use complaint generators for long posts, as that gained time must be spent persuing females. Do you not get out besides for your meatery job?

O_o

Spoiler

...Says the guy who writes ridiculously long posts about imaginary characters in a videogame XD

Also, lol @ the term "meatery"

EDIT - For the record, I wouldn't normally mind spam in this thread, but I did spend like, three hours writing one motherlover of an off-topic post the other day, and then I got in this PM conversation with agidius, which involved even more spam-filled writing...

So I'm just particularly sensitive about it right now. And by that I mean I'm a total pansy. And by that I mean I was born to a drug-addled mother, who callously tossed me into a nearby dumpster after birthing me. So, alone, riddled with various drugs of all kinds, and cold, I did the only thing I could do: I cried.

I soon realized, however, that crying wasn't helping my situation, and I was rapidly coming ever closer to a cold, frozen death. Knowing this, I proceeded to physically beat the drugs out of my bloodstream with my tiny, yet powerful fists. I then ate my way through the plastic roof of the dumpster I was in, and warmed myself up with a light cross-country jog.

As I reached the Rocky Mountains, I suddenly found myself surrounded by hungry wolves. I managed to crush several of their skulls, but, tired as I was from my voyage, they eventually overpowered me. My still-soft cranium was literally inside the jaws of the pack leader when my first parents: Aslan, Bagheera, and Mufasa. The three mountain lions swiftly drove away the remaining wolves, and were about to claim their reward (my broken, bloody body)...but they sensed the pure, unfiltered greatness present within me, and, rather than consuming me, placed me on their shoulders and carried me back to their mountainside cave.

And so, for the next three years, I was raised in the most wild reaches of the Rocky Mountain Range, learning the ways of the world: hunting and preying on the weak, emitting feral screams to attract a mate, being only active near dusk and dawn, and (perhaps most importantly) being a combat helicopter.

However, it was not meant to be. One day, my adopted parents were all cruelly shot by local hunters. Only Mufasa managed to limp back to our cave, where I cradled him in my small, but already powerful arms, tears of pure love rolling down my cheeks. I believe I gave him some level of solace in his final moments.

The next day, I assassinated every man, woman and child in the area who has or had ever owned a hunting license, a rifle, camouflage pants, or who had in their life used the word "sport" in reference to the cold, inhuman act of taking another living thing's life for nothing but the sheer, barbaric thrill.

And so, with nothing left for me in the Rockies, I continued on in my quest, turning north, and eventually making my way to the Canadian outback.

One day, I was casually eating my fill of the Caribou herd I had, moments before, brought down using nothing but a single pebble, when a large Grizzly Bear approached me, obviously looking for his next meal. I stood my ground, and as he approached, so did I.

During our epic, mortal struggle, the sheer force of will present within me contacted the bear's spirit, and instantly, we knew each other. While tending my fresh gouge wounds in a nearby stream, I learned my new parent's name: Wojtek. He had been the subject of several Canadian Government-funded experiments, resulting in him being bereft in a total, unending state of starvation; no matter how much Wojtek ate, he never could satiate himself. So, compassion filling my tiny, four-year frame, I devoted myself to helping him.

And so I hunted. Over the course of the next seven years, I made myself known across the country as "The Windigo", though of course, I was only a small boy at this time. Of course, I was uneducated in the ways of numbers, so had no notion at the time of how many animals I defeated in single combat for Wojtek's sake, but looking back, I would say...anywhere from five to seventy-eight hundred thousand.

At the end of this bloody, noble trail lay the Canadian Scientist's Headquarters, also known as "Mount Villainy". I climbed the jagged, sulfurous cliffs of that accursed rock for five days, never resting--for below me was Wojtek, barely alive and on his own: I had to do this as fast as possible. I infiltrated their foul lair, and found the anitdote to the illness afflicting my pitiable foster father. However, the Canadians discovered me on my way out, and I was forced into combat against an elite sect of Canada's greatest fighters: the Royal Canadian Mountain Police. When all was said and done, I limped out of the laboratory, bullet and saber wounds all across my battered body. One had even managed to gouge out one of my eyes with a hook mounted on a stump, where I presume a hand once was.

Despite my great cause, I found I could not maintain consciousness any longer. As I crested the summit, I passed out, cursing myself for failing at the task set before me...

...Yet soon, I awoke: a cool breeze awakening me from my rest. I felt beneath me, and my hand touched against enormous, silken feathers. Yes, I was being held aloft on the back of a tremendous golden eagle. I reached out with my pure, most bare of emotions to the creature, telling her of Wojtek's plight.

...But, to my utter despair, she informed me that Wojtek had perished at the base of Mount Villainy. Her name was Aquila, and her nine siblings, Corvus, Flint, Cygnus, Huginn and Muginn, Simurgh, Mynah, and Old Great Auk, were on their way to Wojtek's aid on the command of the Bird King, Phoenix. But alas and alack, they arrived too late. Perhaps due to my leading him around the countryside, he was without the aid of the birdfolk.

I have always...blamed myself for that, I suppose.

With nothing to be done for poor Wojtek, I swore vengeance against the Royal Canadian Mountain Police, and continued East with my new, feathered family.

I did not stay with the eagles for long, though. As we were flying over Tennesee, Huginn and Muginn attempted to steal the eyes from my sockets as I slept atop Old Great Auk's back. They held no alleigance to me or my journey, and so I do not blame them for this: it is only the natural law that when a thing is hungry, it must eat.

...However, it is also the way of the world that only the strongest survive. And so, reacting like barbed lightning, I arose, and tore the tongues from my attacker's gizzards, sending them both into uncontrollable, pain-induced free falls. I could immediately tell how well this went over with the other birds, and so I leapt from Auk's wing, pummeting to the ground hundreds of miles below me.

It is never a good idea to let oneself be surrounded by wrathful servants of the Bird King.

Handily, I had learned much from Aquila of the ways of flight, and though I possessed no wings, I used my knowledge to directionally influence myself toward a giant red and white speck, miles below me. As I reached terminal velocity, and the terrible inertia began to peel the very flesh from my bones, I again could not hold out, and I saw black.

When I awoke, I was staring up into the murderous eyes of an enormous African Elephant, or loxodonta africana, as they say in the West. Before he had the chance to gore or trample me, I sprung to my feet and delivered a kick so fierce it could shatter the trunk of a full-grown Redwood tree (and indeed, during my time in the North, it had done so, on several occasions) to the beast's head...but to my complete amazement, it bucked me away but with a brush of it's head! Suddenly and horrifyingly, I knew fear. For the first time in my life, I truly did not know whether I would be the victor of this contest of strength.

...Amazingly, though I no longer held any conception of victory, the thing did not approach me. It merely eyed me up, from head to toe several times, then, deciding something, turned to leave. With this relief, I examined my surroundings for the first time since arriving in this foreign locale. I discovered I had landed on the top of a giant circus tent, which would explain how all my bones were not of dust at this point. But I had little time to ponder the past, as my immortal warrior's soul was calling to me.

Thus, I was trained. My master, Orwell, was a fine teacher indeed. Raised on the barren plains of the Savannah, he had been born weak and alone, much like myself. He had spent most of his time there migrating from herd to herd, never fully accepted, and often physically assaulted for his ignoble origins and lowly station. But through it all, he never gave in, eventually defeating the Bull of a rival tribe in single combat, and thus becoming their herdmaster. For fifty years, he and his tribe roamed the Great Plains, conquering all and sparing none in their paths. He sired countless calves, and those he did not approve of were swiftly exiled. Like me, he held dearly to the Ways of the World. However, one day, while he was away on an expedition, black-suited men with loud, booming sticks and red, maple leaves on their backs came and destroyed his entire clan, stealing their proud tusks, not allowing even for a respectful burial. Enraged, Orwell took to the coast, hounding the men in black. Though they boarded their iron fish before he could catch them, he could see the way they traveled, and so, with a deep breath of the African air he loved more than life itself, he plunged beneath the waves, and ran along the Ocean's floor toward a new, alien world.

Once there, he was tired from his journey, and so laid down beneath a tall tree for rest. But--the fiends!--they ambushed him while he slept! He awoke, and crushed many underfoot, and his tusks were lined with bodies that day, but through sheer numbers and a traitorous tranquilizing poison, they brought him to his knees, and carried him off to their stronghold.

...Thankfully, he escaped: breaking out of the belly of their giant iron snake, he rampaged his way south until he found a lonely, secluded stretch of open land. It reminded him of his homeland, and that was good. For seven days and seven nights he wept for those lost to him. He would never see them again.

And so, when the circus came and erected their giant shelters, Orwell approached them. At first, they panicked, but in time, they came to accept him. Ever since, he had stayed with the group as they toured the country, performing for humans from all walks of life. It was not a dignified life, he told me, but a simple one. One deserving of a man who could not protect those closest to him.

Under his tutelage, I learned much. In the span of a single year, I became a rival even to his great strength, and began to finally integrate myself into the world of man--through my performances in the circus as "The Whild Child", I learned the human tongue, and even made several "friends". In time, though, this was our downfall. Word spread of our famed performances, which eventually attracted the very same forces that had stolen so much from both my and Orwell's lives...

One fateful day, during the highlight act of our performance, Orwell toppled to the ground. I rushed to his side, but he batted me away with his trunk as he regained his footing. It was then I saw the enormous needle protruding from the side of his head. Furthermore, I finally noticed how oddly quiet the crowd had been, and looking out past the glare of the stage lights, I saw not a normal crowd--but the Royal Canadian Mountain Police. They had come to reclaim what was not theirs! I gave a roar that would enrapture even the coldest of puma vixens, and lunged toward my sworn enemies, but my way was suddenly blocked by Orwell's hulking body, which shuddered as a second salvo of poisoned darts punctured his thick hide. I knew what he was doing, but would not accept it--he was all that I had left.

...But, against my dearest wishes, he lifted me, kicking and screaming, in his trunk, trundled outside the tent, with every step being more harried as more and more Canadian venom assaulted his old body...and threw me into the sky with all of his remaining strength.

I spent the following day, and part of the night soaring through the air, tears lashing their way off my face, falling behind me into my windstream. I beat my chest, gnashed my teeth, pulled my hair, and tore my flesh in penitence: once again, I had not been able to stand up and deliver justice, as a man should.

I finally began to lose altitude as I came over the Atlantic Ocean, the same one Orwell had traveled on his road of revenge. After ricocheting off the surface of the waves for several miles, I was finally able to obtain my sea legs...or lack thereof. This was my first experience with the ocean, and I lacked Orwell's powerful elephantine lungs, so had no hope of walking back to shore. I though for sure I would perish, broken and alone, out there in the Great, Uncaring Blue...when something large and smooth wrapped itself around my leg. In a flurry of rushing water and coursing foam, I was pulled under, and found myself face to face with a truly gigantic creature--at least ten times the size of my now-deceased master! It's hundred arms grabbed me from all sides and tore at me, intent on breaking me open like some crude chestnut. But I would not have this. There was still much evil for me to cleanse in this world, and so I held off the monster's fatal embrace, making my body as steel. Apparently surprised at this turn of events, the leviathan brought me to the surface, and, in what seemed the blink of an eye, brought me to a nearby, remote and uninhabited island.

I learned the kraken's name: Jormungandr, and since then (this was roughly four months ago, mind) have been peacefully enjoying my time on the same island, which I have named "Chief Mendez's Island". As I have not yet been able to communicate effectively with Jormungandr (and indeed, he rarely is around to attempt communication with), I have had nothing to do with myself but lie around, tend the fertile land of Chief Mendez's Island, and hang out on SWF with all my pals (using my wind-powered laptop made of sand and hermit crabs).

But one day soon, I will taste revenge. I will hunt down the red-leaf'd demons that stole my parents from me, and I will tear them limb from limb with my bear hands. The Earth will run red with blood. The accumulated filth of all their murder will foam up about their waists and all those *******s will look up and shout "Save us!"...

...and I will look down, and whisper "No."

tl;dr - Disregard that, I suck eggs.

 

[MasterWarlord]

OBJECTION!

Imaginary characters are far more interesting then real ones. Otherwise we wouldn't be playing Smash, as we love said characters. Writing up about them is no better then playing their games to death, is it? I don't get new games that often. That said, I do have interests in real people and follow awkwardly large attention to politics for someone who's still a year away from being able to vote.

HOLD IT!

But really, would you rather I wrote up long lengthy posts to make a moveset for Obama? That'd be filled with mass controversy and would start a political flame war.

I was actually serious about regularly being able to persue females.

TAKE THAT!

 

[MarthTrinity]

This thread makes me sad at the moment -_-...

I'll see if it's any better tomorrow.....

 

[Chief Mendez]

HOLD IT!

But really, would you rather I wrote up long lengthy posts to make a moveset for Obama? That'd be filled with mass controversy and would start a political flame war.

Personally I think that'd be awesome.

...But no, I wasn't miffed about the subject matter, just the stupidly long way of going about it. But I think I explained myself fairly well in my previous post.

I was actually serious about regularly being able to pursue females.

I'M GAY

TAKE THAT!

 

[smashbot226]

My house is Republican, but myself isn't.

The only thing they've got is Abraham Lincoln.

And then about 100 more years of utter failure.

Democrats did better, but not as much.

 

[LUVTOY77-ROGUE WIREFRAME]

To add to off-topicness:

Republicans have had 8 years to do something good, and failed. It's time to let the democrats have a turn.

 

[Vaul]

I'll try this again. It would be much appreciated if anyone can help me.

Question: I have just finished my moveset and added quite a bit of additional pics saved on my computer. Yet obviously one cannot upload photos directly from a hard drive in these forums and I don't think I have the patience to upload them all to ImageShack and desperately try to make them all fit appropriately and be the right size. Everything is complete and nice-looking on Word and I would definitely prefer to save all that rather than butcher the cosmetics. Any suggestions?

 

[Iron Thorn]

DIE POLITICS!

DIE!

Anyway, Vaul you could always get a photobucket account. That's what I use. And Nice SSEs guys. I love all those bad dudes in Chrees' one.

 

[Collective of Bears]

I'M GAY

Seriously, or was that just a spur-of-the-moment thing?

And IT, did you ever finish that BJ and Nina picture? I'm too lazy to thumb through all the pages I missed.

 

[Red Arremer]

Seriously, or was that just a spur-of-the-moment thing?

If he was serious, what would that change?

 

[Collective of Bears]

If he was serious, what would that change?

Nothing, but oftentimes people yell out that they are a false sexual orientation just to be stupid. I was just wondering.

 

[Iron Thorn]

I started coloring it, but I'm not sure I'll really get around to shading. And if Mendez was gay, that would mean I could start rating cute guys with him XP

Oh yes, future moveset: Since I'm doing AP Vergil this yeah...


AENEAS 4 BRAWL

 

[Chris Lionheart]

Mewtwo would murder Ashencroft and piss on his grave...
Okay i have no idea who Ashencroft is, but I agree--Mewtwo isn't afraid of death, and isn't into negotiating. He takes all or nothing... well, he takes all, so Ashencroft would be wise to let him think 'all' is his pay. Serious ***-kissing would have to be done on Ashencroft's part...!

Otehr than that, me likey.

Ha... didn't I write it to where Mewtwo gets exactly what he wants. There was no real negotiating because neither was interested in the other "person's" prize. Each of them expects to benefit completely.

Oh and the reason that Mewtwo (or any of the villains for that matter) was completely unable to hurt Ashencroft is because he is a demon (thus anger, hate, and any other "evil" emotion make him strong.) When Mewtwo struck him, his only intention was to kill, so it ended up doing nothing.

Without that power, I would imagine that Mewtwo would be the victor.


They have way to many Democrats on these boards.

 

[Iron Thorn]

I'm Tim Kaine, baby. I'm a Catholic Democrat from Virginia. *bricked*

So Ashencroft's weakness is "soft" emotions like love and compassion, I assume? Does this mean the secret to killing him is throwing flowers while getting a couple to make out right before his eyes? Jay-kay.

 

[Collective of Bears]

I'm Tim Kaine, baby.

I thought you were a girl.

 

[Chris Lionheart]

I'm Tim Kaine, baby. I'm a Catholic Democrat from Virginia. *bricked*

So Ashencroft's weakness is "soft" emotions like love and compassion, I assume? Does this mean the secret to killing him is throwing flowers while getting a couple to make out right before his eyes? Jay-kay.

Hahaha... nice way to put it but not quite. I have a much better end than that in mind.

I'm working on chapter 3, the Poke'mon chapter right now. Expect to see Ash the Poke'mon Trainer, Team Big Shots, and more.

 

[Collective of Bears]

Hahaha... nice way to put it but not quite. I have a much better end than that in mind.

I'm working on chapter 3, the Poke'mon chapter right now. Expect to see Ash the Poke'mon Trainer, Team Big Shots, and more.

Yay, Big Shots!

 

[Iron Thorn]

I thought you were a girl.

...You mean you didn't know Tim Kaine was a woman all this time? S/he's been dressing up as a man for more respect, since Nancy Pelosi kind of ruined female politicians for everyone. Thus, it is Pelosi's fault that Obama beat Hillary.

[/bullsh*t]

Anyway, what be Nina's eye color?