76

(86 replies, posted in Fans)

I've never found evidence to suggest they had an educated reason. They're just illegal. It's beyond ridiculous

In the end, it goes back to the idea that if you ban something. People will follow the law and do the right thing. Or they're too stupid to understand the consequences of their actions.
Prohibition. They just up and decided to give people their alcohol back.
Gun Control zones create more violence.
Narcotics. Nobody smokes illegally anymore (har, har).
Warning labels on Chainsaws warning you not to try to stop the blade with your hands or genitals.

That's a little off track but it's along the same lines.

Going back to the original topic.
The United States Government is going down a road I'd rather not drive down.
As the historians have pointed out, if you want to totally conquer a people. Take aware their method of defense.
Banning guns could easily ban hunting. And animal populations would be out of control. Truth be told it helps the evironment.

That's where I stand for weapons. If you take in hand the idea that people will always be in need to defend themselves from nature and themselves.

77

(86 replies, posted in Fans)

There might be a topic already on gun control, but I'm interested to know what people think of weapons in general.

For example, in the state of New York it's illegal to own nunchaku.
Ironic in that it was invented during a time where the ownership of weapons such as swords was outlawed.
It's two pieces of wood connected together by a chain.
Although they can produce over 1500 pounds of force per square inch. You have to be able to use one, otherwise you're likely to hurt yourself and be the one knocked down.

They're also illegal in California where concealed carry is perfectly legal. Is that fair?

78

(129 replies, posted in Creative)

People
Out-there
Lying
In
That
Idiosyncratic
Campaign
Speech

An acrosstick (First letter of each line forms a word vertically-down) for Politics.
My vent for this current campaign.

Idiosyncratic-Peculiar to a specific individual; eccentric.

79

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

The jug, which is made out of a dried fruit-sort of like the alcohol containers you see in Kung Fu movies-. It contains blood, so what the dried fruit does is slowly release a chemical that stops blood from coagulating.
The type of blood doesn't matter really. I suppose having that person's blood would make it easier.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calabash

80

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Yeah, I'll do some editing. Add in some material to the post.)
"...I can use the force, use that ocean as a wave against the barrier of your mind, flooding it. I take over your perceptions for a brief moment and then wash back as the water level recedes."

If that's not clear, he uses the midichlorians from other people's blood to increase his ability in the force and then alters the way a person sees something depending on the amount of blood and amount of time he's spent with that person.
A stranger would only be a split second for example.
An extremely well-known person could easily have their reality altered for up to five minutes.

81

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

They'd holed up on the top floor for the time being, Flying W and Rando had stepped out.
"It looks like they found us quite unwittingly. What a shame." W pushed his time lengthened hair back, what had originally been short when he'd first showed up as a prisoner.
"For the one trying to kill air, yes."
"I had to, otherwise my frail self would had expired." Flying W stretched out, perfectly calm.
Rando moved under a window to get a little air, or avoid being the target of a stray blaster bolt. He leaned again, this time crossing his arms.
"I can't imagine that being the truth."
"Well, see it this way. The longer I'm with you, the more I can look into you. Control your thoughts. Alter perception. Younger minds, sick minds, distorted minds are easier to meddle with and take less time than able minds like yours."
"Can this please be a dream then?"
"Even now, I can only do it for a minute or two. The problem with blood..."
Rando went to his full height. "What?! I though it was some force power!"
"It's not quite that deary, I'm afraid. It's just something I picked up during my travels. Not Sith alchemy, or what have you. Think of it as drowning in the sea. You're beneath this oppresive weight of water, and yet, you only send out ripples. Barely moving it...So, take my natural midichilorians, my natural connection to the force. The more of someone else's I have, the more connection I get. The more water in the ocean, the further you can go. I can use the force, use that ocean as a wave against the barrier of your mind, flooding it. I take over your perceptions for a brief moment and then wash back out as the water level recedes."
He held up the jug, the contents sloshed around tranquily. Like water striking the sides, but not.
"That jug...what's in it?" Rando reached out, as if entranced by a morbid fascination.
"You already know. But the jug is the awesome part, the fruit it was carved from stops blood from coagulating."
He pulled the cork, and took a long draw from it. As a drunkard takes his sin.
Rando wrenched. Hauling himself to the window, to throw up. Instead, he was caught short looking down on a spy. Barely visible from the window, maybe an eye could be seen. But now he could see him totally.
The door to the upper level room opened. One of the others walked out.
(If that's too gross, or wrong, or whatever. Just tell me and I'll change it.)

82

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

A lound thunk sounded as the broadswords tied to W's waist fell to the floor. Rando followed suit with his straight sword.
"You know, I don't think being disarmed will change the situation here. Rando and I don't want to win, he'd rather just get out." But what did Flying W want?
"I just don't care either way, if one of you wants to win and work for that invertebrate then go ahead. I won't be the one who fights Katray. Who will show up. The droids, the monsters, I wouldn't put it past Gerba to try and kill us all instead." Rando had lost a little spirit, leaning himself up against the wall halfhazardly.
Everyone else looked around, sizing each other up when the front door burst open. A Rodian, carrying a vibro-knife rushed them.
Rando moved, already having relaxed he could. Tense bodies were slow ones. The Rodian attempted to stab down. Rando caught him below the elbow with an x-block, right hand up. He moved his hands and using leverage bent the elbow in. It stabbed through the alien's gut, Rando used his knee to push it in to the hilt.
Had the assailant been quicker, had Rando been slower. His first target would have been the child.
"Children are precious things, who must be taught and protected." Flying W chuckled, moving further into the house swords in hand he waved the rest onward," Let's be off kiddies, staying in one place too long draws attention..."
Rando retied his belt, and went back for the cycler, he was last of the group who followed.

83

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

The room they'd stumbled into was a little bigger than a broom closet. On the first floor, inside was an untouched set of matching chest armor. Good enough to prevent a few blaster bolts and a handful of shrapnel. Rando hurriedly undid his long-sleeved top, strapped the light armor on with a little help and retied the top. The holes in the uniform were nasty, it depressed him to think he'd have to get another.
He turned to Flying W, who had just thrown the armor on top of his frog-tie longsleeve which wasn't as loose as Rando's.
"Rancors...Krayt dragons...droids! Ridiculous."
W was tapping the floor with his hand, at one point it made a hollow knock. He ripped that piece up, found a Tusken cycler wedged into an apparent crawlspace along with slug rounds to go with it. He slung the bandolier over his waist like a belt, opened the breach, inspected it and loaded a road. Closing the breach with a good-ol'-fashioned click.
"You're still alive, keep that in mind." W laid the cycler on the ground carefully approaching the door. He stood out of sight range as it slid open. At the moment, he jumped out. The human went down, past the door. It slid shut.
Rando jumped to the door, it opened slowly. The human was already dead, blood pooling out of a hole in his back as he laid there broken, face-up.
"That's it! I'm tired of your run arounds, tired of the misdirection, and...just all of it!"
Rando had him by the throat, shoved up to the wall, he weighed nothing compared to the built up rage.
He bashed Flying W's head, once, twice. It broke through the wall. Rando half-closed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was no Flying W and no hole.
And a group of people, in fact, the same who'd been rushing to the stockpile as when they'd gone after that jug, standing there. While he was there, looking like an idiot, one hand clenching nothing with a dead body at his feet.
W was leaned against the wall laughing. It made Rando Outright sick to be alive. Another secret between them.
(If that's okay with Mel and her group of course.)

84

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Rando felt very open, and would have continued to stand agape if Flying W hadn't of grabbed his collar and pulled him away. A blaster bolt barely grazing a sleeve. He could smell the ozone merrily steaming off. But his other brain kicked in, the part that just does. He fired off a few choice shots, and took out legs, arms, necks.
But that was only three droids, out of the many he couldn't count.
"Ah, this is depressing...A Hutt who's skipped the formality of being frugal." Flying W was chatting, as they creeped through the mines.
A few mines were detonated by random fire, which set off a whole side of the mines. They jumped through the rest, edging out relatively safer.
"I can't believe I put a room over this! No way I made this descision of my accord!"
"Something like that..."
Their mindless conversation ended as a grenade detonated. Close enough to throw dirt on top of them. Skirting back, it looked like they were headed toward the woods. Rando redirected them, he didn't want to be hiding behind a holo-tree as a bolt went through it, the fake buildings looked better.

85

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Abandoning their previous route, the two began an indirect run for the stockpile. Flying W could see the mines, as if the dirt was packed differently. They easily moved through them. Not much was left of the stockpile, but that wasn't their primary interest.
W crept over the earth, leaving Rando to pick up a few stragglers with the carbine. He easily scaled the pole, the same with the jetpack at the top. That still wasn't his interest. A jug was tied up there, made from a hollowed out fruit. W shook it from above to prove it wasn't empty. He climbed down, jumping the last few feet onto safe ground.
That's when they saw the Rattataki, her hairless head shone in the daylight. A beacon. Neither of them wanted to risk running through the mines, it had been slow enough getting there. Flying W tied the jug to his waist, unsheathing the double broadswords. Rando sighted down the carbine, but didn't fire. Not quite yet, alliances could be gained.
if not, graves could be dug.

86

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Rando and Flying W, rehashed tiptoe through the tulips as they moved over the bodies. He was surprised to see the door to his room hadn't been torn off or at least opened. He did see a few bite marks on the edge he didn't think he could easily explain.
They stepped in, the overhead light coming blearily on as they did so. Most of the power was being redirected to the Battledome then. Rando moved to a corner of the room, beside his bed, and slammed a fist against the wall. It popped up, he pulled the loose panel up and grabbed his carbine.
W had attached himself to a pair of broadswords that used the same sheath. He grabbed an extra sword belt and tied it deftly, expertly.
"I'm glad you kept these, I didn't know what to do without them!" Flying W looked awful familiar in the low light, almost like the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa...then it hit him.
"Skies above no...Maro Rocol..." Rando couldn't say much more. Recognizing the now older visage of his former friend. Who had, he thought, fallen to his death.
"Yeah, Flying W was Maro Rocol. I suppose how I am now isn't him."
It had been that day, when he'd recieved the the end of one set of training. Before he'd moved on.
"How'd you survive?"
A yell and sound of a fired blaster escaped from outside.
"A question for another time. I think."
Those broadswords had been a trophy from a match he'd fought for money. A completely different person...but that was a question for another time.
They exited, heading for the faux city. Cutting through those weak and restless, unarmed but for themselves.

87

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Rando sighed, already tired of the bloodshed. His room was probably broken open, looted by now. It wouldn't be a terribly large surprise, and his employer wouldn't even consider paying him back afterwards. He'd have to work twice as hard to make the money back, it was a sad moment in his life.
But served to expediate his hatred of the Hutt, of his retainers. It almost made Flying W standable. He headed to the lift down, prepared to enter the Battledome for the sake of his hard-earned room, even if it was in the dingy dungeon.
Even so, his hand shook a little, he couldn't bring himself to pressing the button that would open the lift. Dieing just wasn't on his list of to-do's for today. Somehow he convinced himself that the combination to open the lift in the dungeon would still work.
He stepped out into anarchy, cramped hallway anarchy. And knew he was trapped, without trying the lock, it was obvious. Gerba would never allow a guard to lead a group against him, someone who knew the precious combination.
"You should have thought this through deary." To make it better, Flying W was still alive.
W carried a limp body deftly in one hand, dropping it on a stack of bodies in his former cell now six or seven high.
"Who are you damnit!? What are you?!" Rando grabbed the revitalized prisoner by the neck. Flying W was unfazed.
"I'm the guy, who's going to keep you alive, a few seconds longer."
A pact was formed between the sometimes fool and the desperate prisoner.

88

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

With professional contempt, Rando had dispatched the nuisance. He had practiced breaking a being's arm other than a human’s; it had been a learning experience. Maybe it was just him, but Twi’leks seemed a little more brittle, just not by much.
Upon reentering the Audience chamber, he found himself alone. Apparently the festivities had started without him, although he could have deduced that just from the overall atmosphere. With so many screams, joyous and alike, it was no wonder. Gerba had found a niche market for himself, perhaps there’d be another battledome sometime in the future.
Noticing the leftover foodstuffs, Rando snatched an odd fruit Gerba had imported in constantly he’d never tried or investigated. Before he had a chance to take the first bite, a hand tapped his shoulder. Not only did he wheel around, but stopped short of a debilitating strike. Flying W of all people had escaped from his cell.
“Looks like death is in the air bodyguard, going to join in?”
“Are you kidding? I already have a job here, and that’s bad enough as it is.” Rando took that first bite, and tossed it as although the taste was a citrus the texture was like eating a flimsy.
W raised an eyebrow, the way Rando wished he could, and spread his hands as if beckoning.
“I can’t hold this for very long, come visit soon.” Flying W blinked out, like a colored hologram.
Rando, used to the craziness that accompanied the prisoner, kept on. Eventually joining Gerba as the slug watched the killing, a little barbarism stowing that nag on the tip of his thoughts. 

-
Below deck, Flying W sat in his cell. Maimed bodies stacked three high all the way around him. He smirked, coming out of his meditative mindset. Proud to see he still had it, blood was still his friend. And there'd be plenty of that around wouldn't there?
It brought a tear to his eye, just such an emotional event. He went back to work, focusing again on the spilled life. Closing his eyes, legs crossed, he smirked.

89

(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Name: Rando Outright
Affiliation: Hutt
Species: Near-human
Appearance: One black circle tattoo on the top of each hand, another on the back of the neck near the top of the spinal cord. Brown hair, brown eyes. 
Age: 25
Brief History: Hand-to-hand, archaic weapons specialist originally attached to Gerba's entourage of bodyguards. Medium-proffiency in firearms and small explosives with training from lead marksman in service to Gerba. Born and raised on Nar Shaddaa originally, began working for Gerba right after losing quite a bit of money in a sabaacc game.
Weapons: Partial to vibro-straight sword, carries blaster carbine. Himself. Mostly anything, including double shield and bench.

The bag struck the wall for the 30th time, the sound of the numerous metal balls rolling around inside rang for the 30th time. He stopped the bag with two hands, aware that although his hands were like Mandalorian iron his head was not. From there, he finished his morning workout, bathed- a habit most would ignore in the presence of a Hutt, he just had to though-, and finished dressing. Cumilating in tieing his sword belt, vibro-straight sword tucked in.
His room, unlike most, was very well furnished. Large enough to practice in unbothered. The cost had been paying for the renovation of two prison cells as well as the loss of a little face before his boss, or the stink of the Hutt Lord's dungeon, he had never decided. He carefully unlocked and opened the door, exited after locking it, however much good that would do.
He passed the dank cells, staying well away from the Trandoshan. He'd scarcely survived the reptile's first attempt to kill Gerba. Sidestepped past a guard being yelled at by a demanding prisoner, he chuckled under his breath, lucky his room was soundproof and he was never granted guard duty.
Eyes followed him, new eyes. Old burnt outs uncaring, personality lost somewhere, hidden in the stone walls.
"My, you're up late today. Thought you'd be excited, people will be dieing soon, You should get up earlier." The voice was bored, attempting to make him stop and talk. As it had been trying to do since the prisoner had gotten here.
He called himself Flying W, and no one knew why he was there. He merely appeared one day, in that cell, replacing its former inhabitant. Rando stopped exhasperated, W sighed in relief.
"Good, good. That's a fine start. Now we're finally going to talk."
"I should be in the audience chamber protecting my boss, make it quick."
Flying W laughed,"You're going to be sorry. For even waking up today."
Rando shrugged, ignoring the standard lunacy and proceeded to the lift. Not that Katray needed the help.

regimas wrote:

i think everyone will agree with me that the old sw movies were somehow better than the new ones.
so what did he change?
it could be the CGI, or the kid friendly nature of it....im not sure

I think it might be because we're older. I saw the original trilogy when I was five, and the prequels at least five years later. Episode 1 was amazing, and ROTS just so-so great.
But, on the other hand. I will agree that the acting was better in the original trilogy. Boba Fett still had an awesome voice too.

Depends on your definition of kids...what age group are we talking?
'Cause I wouldn't give a teen game to someone younger than six.

92

(1 replies, posted in Fans)

I'm thinking this can go in the dark knight topic already in progress.

93

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Maro gingerly stepped through the opening blast doors, they'd been unlocked. Opened with the tap of a button, it undid a little of his nerve. He continued on, glad to see the hole eroded out of the ceiling. Morning light speckled in, illuminating sections of the purmacrete floor.
This room had been a hangar, the equipment was still there. Malfunctioning he assumed, the room had been cleaned out of everything else. Across the room was another set of blast doors, open. The room beyond was lightless, the rest of the abondoned base would be at least partially underground.
Moving forward, into the empty room, he flipped the pike up. Activating the silver blade set five or six feet alit around him. What he could see appeared to be a common area, a few tables and some chairs. In the distance looked like a food synthesizer turned on its side. Maro could hear the vermin streaking around the light, away from him.
"Please show identifcation! Please show identification!" Maro walked under the doorway, past the outdated security probe, he flicked it away with the dull end of the pike  and continued on.
He was pulled right down the hallway, and left into a side room. It was a little bigger than a standard closet, with two shelf racks on either side. They'd left the medpacks and all. Maro threw them into a case he found and tucked it under one arm.
He turned around, to knock into a sober bored face. He hadn't felt him coming.
"This is a pleasant surprise. A young Jedi. Treasure hunting?"
Maro jumped back, managing to avoid singing his head with the lit pike.
"There are injured to be taken care of. I'll have to ask you to move along."
"Sorta rude to  leave your host so soon but understable, ya'll come back to talk to me. I mean it."
Maro walked past him and turned his head back,"It's Maro Rocol, I'm sure we'll meet again."
"Of course, Zai Gahn."
That name sounded too familiar. But he had a mission to accomplish. Maro moved on, watching his back. Zai didn't follow. In retrospect, he had been an idiot.

94

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Yes, and if nobody has any more questions we can start at least by the next few posts.

95

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Thanks Werda.

Alright, let's get through any more questions and get us moving!

96

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Well, hope you'll be able to participate in a later one.

Sorry if it did seem like I over reacted. Just worried about a rocky start I guess.

97

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

I know it's hard to believe but I am a mod, so don't take it too far with this arguement.
Werda, if you could tone your character down a bit, if you're too good it can be obnoxious in an RPG. I know from experience, I was the one doing it.

Jango Fett was exceptional, the best bounty hunter of his time. I'm not saying your character can't be awesome but maybe you can lead in to abilities instead of starting out with them. The experiences improve your character.

98

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Fett_II wrote:

I've got a question: How does this officially start? Are we all just able to sense the power vacuum?

I was sort of cutting corners there, just say some stuff has already happened. People are there and the fighting has begun. I've been kind of fighting math homework so I can't pull together my scrambled brain for a better explanation.
I'm sorry if I'm making this difficult for anyone. I'll try my best to answer all your questions and hopefully we can all have fun.

99

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Name: Maro Rocol
Age: 26
Species: human
Occupation: Jedi Knight
Lightsaber model and color: lightsaber pike, silver
Clothing and armor: medium strength chest plate, covered by long sleeved hooded robe. Standard pants with kama.
Weapons: Cortosis straight vibro-sword
Short character description: Student of a rare non-lightsaber form, Maro brandishes the pike as a matter of course and has grown quite able with the weapon over the last few conflicts. 

It was a red dawn, a brilliant entrance to the failing sun. Maro watched it edge over the horizon from behind the holed pieces of a crashed starship. He pulled his hood back on and turned away, walking through the stellar graveyard pike tucked under the arm, sword hung loosely from his belt. This planet was too menacing, it gave the feeling that these ships had been engulfed from the sky. A Sith playground that meddled with your senses.
On the other side of the scrap yard was an old installment, left over from mercenaries past. Within was a mystery, he'd never had time to fulfill his curiosity.
War does that to a being.
Now he was hunting medpacks, a rusting medical droid, just something for the remaining injured. The force had led him here.

(I don't have much to go on, on my own.)

100

(25 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Let's say around Legacy of the Force, if that's cool with everyone.