Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Reaching Out and Touching No One
Gantic has a thread and will weave a cloth. This is a thread brought to you by Gantic & Co. Bringin' change to a constantly changin' world.
The title of the thread will become apparent later, but to start off:
Just to make things clear, there were never three cowboys. Just two. One of them's got the solar-powered laptop, the other's got the rubber ducky, but they're both mavericks, all three of them. It was my idea to throw in the third cowboy, but he's as real as any of the others. The solar-powered laptop and the rubber ducky were my idea, too. So were the two cowboys. To make things clear: There were no cowboys.
In the vast emptiness of the Moobes, a black craft shaped like a horse, christened the Star Straddler, cruised to what was only a small but sparkly blue-and-green marble. The captain had his boots up on the dash as his craft crawled along the moobe that would bring him to the planet that the Moogle Navigator had found. As the craft touched down on the surface, only one thought was on the captain's mind: "The Space Cowboy has landed. In Armor Games."
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Is it the programming section?
Oh I see, a secret code!
Tricked by a troll...this hardly suits me to a tee! (10)
If not, that's okay. I'm really really drunk.
So now we're playing with crossword clues. I wonder what it could be? :P
"You know what?" the Space Cowboy exclaimed. "That's just great. That's just ... great. How far is it to the nearest town?"
The Stranger thought for a moment, "About 10 MB to the nearest outpost, but they're a loopy bunch, artist colony or something. 12 MB to the somewhere less loopy, writers but they're a depressive bunch if they don't have massive egos. You've got architects 22 MB away, more or less sane even if you can't understand a word that comes out of their mouth. Unless you you walk a lot faster than 20 kilobits per second. You're pretty much stuck out here for a few days."
The Space Cowboy looked scanned the darkness again, hoping for something appear and remove him from this place. His eyes fell on the black rectangle by the rock.
"Hey, is that a laptop?"
"Yea it is."
Before the Stranger could stop him, the Space Cowboy reached the laptop and opened it.
"Is this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... this... ..."
"Yea, Armor Games."
Lol loopy bunch of artists.
I would probably fall into a loopy category...
This is rad.
"No this is armor games."
You've got to be loopy if you enter the Art Skills Competition.
I'll be evil and throw in another story into the mix and tie it in. Done some months back in GIMP before I found out about layers.
The Bullman wondered if the Space Cowboy and the gander had returned. It had been a day since they left for the Imaginarium. He had nothing better to do since it was a slow day. He did warn them that it would be a dangerous place. Why else would he, the super strong super cool Bullman, not go? The Star Straddler still sat some ways outside of the ciy fully refueled.
At that moment, a man approached him, holding a small blue shield badge up. "Excuse me, sir. I am here on official business about a complaint about a little skirmish that occured a few days ago. As you know well, we do not condone violence of any sort (except against zombies and in the exceptionally gory parts of the Imaginarium)."
"Uh, I don't know anything about that," the Bullman relied.
"Witnesses say they saw you pull a rubber ducky on the victims."
"A rubber ducky? Haha. Who uses a rubber ducky in a fight?" the Bullman asked, using his hoof-hand to conceal the magical bath toy.
"That rubber ducky behind your hand."
"Uh, well, you see, um, heh, uh, I, well..."
At a loss for words, the Bullman started running away toward the Space Cowboy's craft. It opened up for him and he ran inside, closing the door behind him. Out of porthole in the door, he could see the sheriff approaching. He made his way to the front of the ship and started pushing buttons on the console but nothing worked.
Frustrated, he shouted, "Get me out here!"
The craft lifted off and zoomed off, but the scrubber had not been activated, and it left a sulfurous smell along its path across Armor Games.
I enjoyed this one very much...lol.
So the bullman is gonna be big to?
So the bullman is gonna be big to?
I'm not exactly sure what you mean by that question. Is the Bullman going to be an important character in the rest of the series? It could go either way. He could be important, or just that guy who is conveniently there and pushes things forward. It's not like I can say, "This character is popular. Let's promote him to a more prominent role." Incidentally it might depend on how long this series will last, since there's only a rudiment of a plot at the moment.
Ooh, that's gonna leave a big smelly stink-trail all the way to the next URL!
...forgot to upload the other parts. And that's a month before I get back to my computer. Slight detour.
Of Course, Of Course
He was dressed all in black from his head to his toe. He hadn't even left a mark in the snow, and he was quite proud of that. Soon, he would be able to leave no mark anywhere, but now, he had other things to do, like sweeping and mopping the floors of the guild. Splotches of paints were the toughest and most annoying to remove since he would have to erase the entire area and retouch and retexture the floor to match the existing wood. As he finished replacing wood, a rumble shook the building. He went outside into the moonlight night, careful to remain unseen in the shadows. When he saw what it was, he was livid. A large figure exited from an even larger craft that looked very much like a horse.
"What? Bullman!" he shouted. "Are you mocking me?!"
After a moment's shock, the Bullman responded, "Hello... Stallion Man."
Another epic new story from Gantic!
Lol, the fabled Stallion Man.
"And no one can talk to a horse of course, That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous..."
Stallion Man = Strop? Never!
Strop reveals his true identity!
Of Course, Of Course
Stallion Man looked back at the black horse that sat on the snow.
"Pfft, mock you?" the Bullman said. "You're a poser."
"If anyone's the poser, it's you," Stallion Man replied.
"We all know that that's just an armatar."
"You're just an armatar."
"This is 100% prime beef here," said the Bullman beating his chest with a fist.
Stallion Man broke the long silence that followed with a stutter, "Th-th-that's... actually disturbing."
"I'm... not... going to use that again..."
"So what's been going on? What brings you out here? We made a pact you would never come back to the Imaginarium."
Stallion Man had known the Bullman since they were children. They grew up together, trained together, and competed against one another. One day they found two powerful weapons, one of which was the Bullman's rubber ducky, in a chest in a cave in the middle of a forest. They went their own ways after witnessing the perhaps only a fraction of the power of the weapons. They made a pact that they would each stay away from each other, Stallion Man in the Imaginarium and the Bullman in the more "civilized" parts, fearing the temptation to compete aganst each other using these weapons. They feared what could happen if they were caught up in the competition. It had been many years since they last saw each other and the Bullman told Stallion Man of the trouble he was in, how he had defeated the Rainbow Gang using the rubbery ducky, how he had been helping a naive newbie about who came in the horsecraft.
"He's here, you know," Stallion Man said.
The Bullman asked, "Who?"
I'm not that impatient.
You will have to wait. Or I could stretch this story out even more than it's already stretched out as I stall on the status of the Space Cowboy and the Stranger as I wait for Strop to judge the ASC. I leave myself just enough open-endedness to do that. I might release two parts a day when I get back to my computer, but not now.
Thread is locked!