Writing Center. Dgames Flavor Intensive Training.

[ranmaru]

So I was thinking. Let's write stories guys. We each write as much or as little as we want, and the next poster/story writer continues the story. We can write dgames members in. It'll be hilarious. It can be saddening. It can be filled with action, and/or terror.

Post ideas in thread.

Then we can get Nabe to translate for us.

Edit: I mean narrate. wtf was I thinking.

Obv this would be First Drafts > Edit > Final Drats etc.

 

[BarDulL]

BarDulL stood facing away from a cliff on the outskirts of DGames, looking back in at the community he had been a part of for some time. Albeit he could only see small objects moving about in the distance, he could imagine quite vividly whom it might be; perhaps it was little BSL and Xonar in the distance, hiding under bridges, coaxing the newest and friendliest of members into one-sided games of their own amusement with many top lels to be had. Or perhaps it was Nabe, frivolously flirting no hetero quite vibrantly while Circus yelled at him regarding something about prejudice. Or Gorf getting banned over and over again with Raziek shaking his head in the background.

BarDulL sighed. He would miss DGames, but he hadn't a choice in the matter; business had arranged opportunities for him to scour abroad, and so he would not have the time or the luxury of entertaining himself a moment longer in this outstanding land of inherent silliness, amusement, emotion, and lels.

In probably the coolest fashion ever, BarDulL whipped out the illest pair of Kamina shades he could muster and fit them on his pudgy Totoro face, tears flowing with passion and elegance as he did so.

"I WILL RETURN! BELIEVE IN THE ME THAT BELIEVES IN YOU THAT BELIEVES IN ME THAT BELIEVES IN YOU!"

Having miraculously acquired a look-alike of Kamina's cape somehow, BarDulL swiftly turned around while whipping the cape behind him with his arm to face the cliff with style. Swag.

After wiping one final tear from his face, BarDulL jumped off the cliff into the swirling, foggy abyss that existed beyond the outskirts of Dgamesia. Was this the end of an era? An end to the BarDeeZy?

"Goodbye, my friends..."

Heavy panting could be heard off in the distance. It was Ryker, having just ran all the way across Dgamesia to the cliff Bardeezy had just jumped off of. But why?

"BAARRRDDDDDDDDDDDDDD, WHY DID YOU TAKE MY ONLY PAIR OF KAMINA SHADES?!?!?!? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Raziek, having followed behind him, shook his head.

"Dude, Ryker, Bard just peaced out for god knows how long, and you're more worried about your Kamina shades?!"

"MY SHADESSSS!!!! Q________Q"

"God damnit Ryker."

Gova, unbeknownst to the duo, manifested behind them and quickly chimed in.
"That's pretty shady of Bard. "

Before the trio could make their leave of the cliff however, a strong gust of wind began blowing in their direction. In an unbelievable and obviously anime-esque fashion, a gigantic castle began to rise into the air perhaps a little too close to the cliff for comfort. Standing at the top of the castle was Bardeezy, arms folded and firmly placed on his chest with a phat Totoro grin on his face.

"What in the **** is THAT thing?"

"Dude, it's the castle Bard was talking about in DGames social not too long ago!"

Damn. A ****ing oversized cat with Kamina glasses that owns a flying castle. Holy ****. I mean, I'm really supposed to be just narrating this whole event in the third person, but...holy ****.

"PEACE OUT FOOS! AWAIT MY RETURN!"

And with that, BarDulL, directing the flying castle, began drifting away from DGamesia, destination unbound...to whom or where does the bell toll for our gigantic DGames cat?


To be continued...

 

[ranmaru]

Bardull’s enormous castle floats ever so slowly. Ryker puts on his shades as the castle leaves, and no one can notice a tear falling from his cheek. Yet, he’s smiling, with a big grin. He looks up to the sky. The clouds break apart. The castle is gone. Dgamesia has never felt so empty.

???: Huhhhhhhhhhhhhh? BARDEEZY LEFT? HE HASN’T SAID GOOD BYE!!!

???2: It’s his own way of departing. Let him be.

???: Hmppph!

???2: I wonder where he has ended up.

***A month passes by***

Another set of winds blow across Dgames. But this isn’t as innocent. It is menacing, and has a smothering air about it. One of Dgames members seems to feel it.

???: What was that??

???2: Huh?? I don’t feel much, Zen.

Zen: *Does a round house kick to a bag* *WHOOSH* Hmm. Let us investigate, Soup.

Soup: Alright!

[tbc, might edit later]

 

[#HBC | Nabe]

Date: Tuesday
Time: 1:02 p.m
Location: The exact center of the universe


Leader of the Free World, President Barack Obama, was sitting in his office at the White House having what he felt was an increasingly frank and uncomfortable discussion with a visitor familiar to him.

"Sir, we have no time to wait on this ****," said the man standing across from Obama. "Trust me." He stood there adorned in military fatigues, staring straight ahead without looking at his commander-and-chief, but Obama sensed annoyance in the man's tone.

"My fellow American," Obama began, as he wiped his sweating brow with an unintelligibly grimy red-and-white flag, "I cannot expend our nation's abundant resource of capable, attractive agents on a hunch."

"**** ain't a hunch, sir." The other man made no motion at all, but his tone continued to disapprove to Obama's ears. "My ****** from Japan inform me that the object is going to float over here within the next four days. If we don't body it now, we ain't gonna get the chance."

Obama slowly stood, and walked over to the fireplace to gaze at the glorious American flames burning within. He wiped his face once more, then tossed the cloth into the majestic inferno, turning away without watching it burn to draw another from his pocket to blow his nose.

He stared at his shoes for a moment before he spoke. "My fellow American, surely we can try to engage this invading force with eloquent words and diplomacy?" He looked up.

The man was looking unblinkingly and directly at him now, no hint of emotion on his face. When he spoke, the clarity and conviction in the man's voice surprised Obama. "No. Call it in." This man had changed since last they spoke.

"My fello... my son," spoke Obama gravely, and for a moment said nothing, then began shining his shoes with the green, white and red cloth in his hand, making sure to get the sole all over it as well. "The military has raised you well, Marshigio."

The man left, and Obama made the call. He had just the American in mind for this infiltration mission.

 

[#HBC | marshy]

the man ran his fingers along the edges of the frame. a smile that forced any viewer to squint. a puffing of a chest that a warrior would envy. a pair of glasses that shaped anothers face so well

how are my friends doing? was my sacrifice really worth it? the mans brow tightened on his face as he stroked his chin. a flare of frustration arose in his heart as he pondered if he was right to leave them behind

no. this is my duty. i will see them again. i have to do this for the good of dgamesia he thought while stretching his head back and pressing the picture against his chest. this is my mission. this is...for the hardbody

brrrriiing! brrriiinngg!

brrriiiinnng! brriing!

ugh

brrriiinnng! brriiiing!

GOGdammit!

the man flipped over and shoved the sheets away from him as he reached for the phone

this is laundry master gunnery sergeant and proud member of the hbc

we need your help

laundry pulled the phone down ever so slightly as the gravitas of the words pierced his soul. the chill down his spine reminded him of a paintbrush running smoothly over a canvas. he recognized the voice immediately

what can i do for you sir?

im sorry laundry...but im going to need you to go back to your old ways for this one. i just finished speaking with marshigio as well as the head of the cia. my information tells me that an unidentified floating object is making its way across the north pacific. the longest it will take to hit is 4 days. i need you to undergo reconnaissance and infiltrate this place before the threat hits us first

without question sir. how many can i take with me for this mission?

3 or less

good to go sir. i will weigh my options and get to action

thank you master gunnery sergeant. your top secret security clearance is in effect for this mission. we need you. we need freedom. we need...the hbc

i couldnt have said it better myself sir

laundry hung up the phone and ran his fingers through his hair letting a sigh build up in his chest and escape out through his mouth

i need the best for this one. maybe if i succeed in this mission i can take leave and visit my friends in dgamesia. i swore never to return there...but this is different. i need a break and nothing would drive me more than to remember what im fighting for

laundry pulled out his cellphone and started going through his contacts

no...ponies wouldnt do much for this mission. i brought rajam with me one time but he moved half the speed of any other man. cant use him either. oh!

the name hit him. laundry pressed the call button as he selected the contact

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elsewhere a young woman stood next to a man whose sternness could be seen by the harsh lines carving the features on his face. he took the headphones off his head and reached for the remote

whats wrong? the young woman asked

he pointed the remote to a screen settled in the center of a large wall surrounded by thousands of tinier screens. with the press of a button a large object with windmills was seen slowly moving over the ocean. he zoomed in on what appeared to be...a large catlike creature smiling as he stood on the edge of the island taking in the scene beneath him

wow. who is that? do you know him?

the man was silent as he pressed the button again. the screen changed to an audio player with the universal sign for play in the center. he clicked it

my ****** from japan inform me that the object is going to float over here within the next four days. if we dont body it now we aint gonna get the chance

call it in

the young woman clutched her mouth as her eyebrows raised in succession with her eyeballs widening

that is from our taps? do you mean theyre going to...?

the man nodded

we cant just sit here while a conflict brews like this. we need to take advantage of this. its about time that we final-

the man raised his hand out. he stood up and walked past the young woman. she could only hear one thing as he brushed her jacket



she knew instantly what was to come

 

[#HBC | Gorf]

meanwhile, gorf was chillin in west dgamesia when he stumbled upon a peculiar store. it was called nabes brothel. curious, gorf decided to check it out.

three hours later, he walked out having nailed july, j, and mayling all at the same time. gorf was a happy man.

 

[DtJ S2n]

Gorf was happy. Truly, maniacally happy. The air was thick with the smell of copper and a slight hint of something toasted. The redness painted his face and dripped from his chin onto his already soaked wife-beater. The nail gun he held in his hand left a path of crimson path as he ducked into a nearby alleyway. It was an impressive nail gun. The only one of its kind. Custom-built, able to punch a nail through drywall, wood, concrete, human flesh, human bones, human guts; perfect for any craftsman on the go. And Gorf had just crafted a masterpiece. Three of them, stacked up and nailed at the same time.

As he looked up, his eyes glimpsed the familiar red and blue flashing lights of the police, just now pulling up to the crime scene. With no more time to savor his work here, he hurried along the alleys. His mind was already drawing the blueprints for his next project.

 

[#HBC | Nabe]

I wrung my hands miserably. "Between being accused of living illegally in DGamesia, being accused of running an illegal brothel, and my attractive female staff having all been horribly murdered, as well as my being accused of that crime, you've got a lot on your plate, EE. "

The man nodded solemnly. "Yeah, honestly, you're probably ****ed. Why you decided to undertake all these illegal activities in a nation that holds trial via impassioned majority vote and carries out sentences of corporal punishment immediately afterwards and at the same meeting (prior to posthumous appeal) is beyond me."

I shook my head. "I'm here legally-"

"So you keep saying, eh."

"And I didn't kill those girls-"

"You're being taken as a likely suspect, since you were their pimp."

"And I'm not a pimp! I just run a simple soup restaurant; I thought calling it a 'broth-el' and only hiring attractive ladies was hilarious."

He nodded. "You always did have an impenetrable sense of humour. Well, listen. As a fellow expat from Canada, I'm going to try my best to wall up and get you through this. But you should be prepared to find some still-frozen fries in your poutine, feel me?"

Just like any other person who was once a resident of Canada would be, I was filled with a sense of dread at the import of that statement.

 

[#HBC | Gorf]

stepping outside of his restaurant, nabe stumbled upon the scene of his impaled employees yet again. the gory scene disgusted him, but simultaneously gave him a feeling of ecstasy that, upon observing, exponentially gave him more and more pleasure. "what grace," nabe thought. "a single nail went through every single one of these women! it's as if a mastermind was behind this... i must find the culprit of this heinous crime. his craftsmanship CAN'T be passed! with my business skills and his talents, we will take the world by storm!"

and that was the beginning of nabe's quest to find the one named gorf.

 

[#HBC | Nabe]

Tonight's the night.


And it's going to happen, again and again.

Has to happen.


Nice night.

West DGamesia is a great town. I love the Southeastern American food -- barbeque pork soup, my favourite.


But I'm hungry for something different now.



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Parliament was a close call. The closest call I've ever had. That I thought I ever would have.

It had been a game of intrigue, in some respects. I was infiltrating Parliament and stalking my prey, when that scumbag Moriarty had the balls to kill somebody in the Hall itself, and get me caught up in the messy murder investigation. I finally got my kill after those five long days, although not the way I had envisioned it. I didn't get to end that heart's flow myself, see the blood, feel the catharsis. I got Moriarty lynched by the skin of my teeth, but I couldn't make my getaway without getting rid of that drunk Harvy, and Yvon of the Yukon, my fellow Frenchman -- they knew something was strange with the number of deaths there had been, and I couldn't risk it for another day longer now that I'd taken care of Moriarty. Sorry, guys. It was a unique situation, to be sure.

After I beat it back across Ontario and Quebec to open water, to my boat stored at Happy Valley Goose Bay Marina... even as I took my boat out to dump the bodies into the Labrador Current and send the evidence down and away into the Gulf Stream, I knew my time in Canada was at an end, had to be. It had been a good run, but Parliament was too messy, too public.

I had heard DGamesia was nice, that time of year. I thought I'd settle down, maybe open a quiet business and enjoy the rest of my days, helping others through the healing warmth of soup.

But seeing that display outside my store, inhumane as it was, also awakened that tiny piece of my old self that I thought might finally have been dead. It was darkly artful in a way, and stirring. There was a moment in that rush of sensation when I felt like I wanted to find this person and partner with them, teach them and learn from them, and I reveled in the idea of letting loose like I never had before.






But no. I have the Code. It doesn't fit the Code. I only kill serial killers.

With extreme difficulty, I shook myself back into the present, and looked for any clues to this guy's identity before I called it in. All the while, my head searched for something just under the surface of my conscious thoughts, and I was unsure of what it was.

Suddenly, a scream came from behind me, and as I turned to see the person running away and pulling out their cellphone, I knew two things. One, I was about to get much more publicly connected to these events than I wanted to be. And two, which the scream had shocked out of me: both the information I had been searching for and the reason I had been searching for it. A name, to assign to this monster whom I was going to find and kill. I tried it on my tongue.

"Gorf." I smiled, my old hunter instincts returning. "I name you Gorf."



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Evil Eye is going to work on getting me off, and best of luck to him. I'd like to be able to stay in this country if I can. But he's got his job, and I've got mine. The police don't have the evidence to hold me yet, which leaves me free to do my job.



Tonight's the night.

Tonight, I make my own small corner of the world a neater, happier place.


A better place.

 

[Chaco]

Gorf was happy. Truly, maniacally happy. The air was thick with the smell of copper and a slight hint of something toasted. The redness painted his face and dripped from his chin onto his already soaked wife-beater. The nail gun he held in his hand left a path of crimson path as he ducked into a nearby alleyway. It was an impressive nail gun. The only one of its kind. Custom-built, able to punch a nail through drywall, wood, concrete, human flesh, human bones, human guts; perfect for any craftsman on the go. And Gorf had just crafted a masterpiece. Three of them, stacked up and nailed at the same time.

As he looked up, his eyes glimpsed the familiar red and blue flashing lights of the police, just now pulling up to the crime scene. With no more time to savor his work here, he hurried along the alleys. His mind was already drawing the blueprints for his next project.

@ DtJ S2n this is freaking win. /dying