Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)

Just got the confirmation >>.>>

Replied to it to boot.

Also, I wasn't exactly going crazy, just impatient. Not really abnormal for me. I need to work on it >>.>>

Jaza, yours is on page 105.

I know that because I have that kind of time!

Jaza, yours is on page 105.

I know that because I have that kind of time!

Page 105 is the French speaking page, great page.

I had read it before. I remembered it had an abnormal format. Short & sweet. I just looked for the post with the short sentences & lots of spaces. ^^

I had read it before. I remembered it had an abnormal format. Short & sweet. I just looked for the post with the short sentences & lots of spaces.

Okay, jaza, I've recorded your submission URL. Thank you!

Nyeeehh...my entry...needs more worrk....

Ok, I do 30mins homework, 10mins entry...etc etc.

Hopefully it should be ok...

So jaza, loot any huts? Attack any newbs? Destroy any monuments?

Hey, I managed to get trough my mom's ban (we're staying at an hotel, not allowed to go to laptop (it's not mine) I'll probably won't be here, so Strop, you have permission to do whatever you feel like with Randy.

I'll be back 5th of august.

Bye.

Hey, I managed to get trough my mom's ban (we're staying at an hotel, not allowed to go to laptop (it's not mine) I'll probably won't be here, so Strop, you have permission to do whatever you feel like with Randy.

I'll be back 5th of august.

I still haven't heard a peep from:
Cholo
Skater
Hojoko
Jess
Lufffi
Pazx
Nichodemus
These people need to email WaoMod@yahoo.com like, last week.

I need Nicho to check its okay for him but hes gone to sleep.

Entorage



"Monster!"

"I know, I know, I've heard it a million times. Now get lost."

"Why should I you freak!"

I drew my sword and held it to his neck, "Because monsters don't mind killing." He ran at that... ha I've told people I could never kill in cold blood, but they know my possessor would.

"Yes I would Viiiiiiisse, HAHAHA"

Yup that's it, my curse, the evil entity that possesses my soul. It is the manifestation of every sin committed by all of my ancestors. Whenever I get mad it encourages that anger.

"You know that I will never give you control again. Not after what you did."

If you want to know what its like to bare this curse, its easy to explain. Anytime a thought pops into your head like "I'm going to kill him" this force takes control and kills them for you. Although sometimes, you don't get back that control. Well enough whining I'm going to the tavern.

Oh yeah that's another thing, I might be infamous because of my curse, but my gambling skills have gained me a lot of respect and- Oh? What's that? I ran over and what did I find, flamers.

"Oh jeez, I do not want to be caught up in this when the mods arrive."

"What? You haven't heard Vise?"

"Heard what? Hey you still owe me money."

"I know, I need some more time. Anyways its bean pretty hectic recently and law breaking is not being dealt with very fast."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know man but ev-"

"ATTENTION EVERYONE!!!"

I didn't hear much after that so I had to ask the peasant next to me, though he wouldn't be a peasant if he didn't get caught up in that card game with me. Just one of many fools.

"I've heard as little as you, something about picking a new mod in a contest. Hey you should try out!"

"Me?"

"Yeah, I mean you always obey the law and you're a man of your word. You would make a great mod, and you won't need to gamble money away from suckers like me."

"Hah, I doubt I can even get close to the amphitheatre."

Nevertheless I tried going anyways. I got closer then I ever had to the amphitheatre. That's when those lackeys from the churches or whatever came.

"Back you demon, you will never beat the light."

Then came the barrage of religious quotes, only this time they had a weapon. Some sort of staff. When it touched me I could here the possessor's agony.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

So, like always, I dashed into the only place I was safe, the tavern. I would have to hang out here for a while, if I was attacked with that weapon again the possessor would not be able to protect me...

I noticed a change in behavior in the following weeks, people started to walk around nervously. Some people that taunted me didn't even realize I existed. Most of the people I saw, that were probably going to compete, would not make good mods. So I decided I would have to compete.

That day I immediately started toward the tavern, if I was to get to the amphitheatre I needed bodyguards. When I kicked in

the door the people who were in debt to me started to bow. The others started drinking again. The bartender, by instinct, took out my cards. When I motioned them away the tavern went silent.

I chuckled, and then announced, "I have a job for anyone who wants their debt whipped clean. I need to be escorted to the amphitheatre, but anyone who chickens out when the religious freaks arrive will have their debt doubled."

There were about 7 who came; they tried to look as tough as possible. It worked, those freaks stayed back and I got to the amphitheatre safely. I dismissed my entourage and they thanked me for wiping their debt. As I put my sword away and walked in, I saw the other contestants. One was a fish man, another was a guy with pixie wings, and another with swords for hands (I wonder how he picks things up). They looked just as nervous as I was, so I was not taunted as I walked to the place were the light shone strongest.

"You're not ruining this for me," I whispered to myself.

"Don't count on it."

Part 1: The Invitation (I apologize, it's just that all of Leon's stories start with the pointless babbling of Evelyn Clearwater.)

Watcher says:

Witnessing a day in a man's life is the same as watching his entire life: He wakes up, does a bunch of stuff and then goes back to sleep. A man lives, he goes through the surreal journey of life and ends on the melancholy note of not having finished everything he wanted to finish. But not all men are like this. Some lead lives of legend. Those selected by fate. Leon's sphere of existence has brushed the spheres of so many such men (including my own) that it almost seems that he should be super-charged with fate. But fate's a funny thing: The all-seeing eye of fate looks backwards, not forwards. It's not that men are picked by fate to change the world, men change the world. The people we read about are, by definition, worth reading about. This creates the illusion of heroes and destiny. This is, in many ways, the tail of Leon's destiny. How does it begin? The same way it always has.
On day, Leon was walking along. Then, **** got real:

For Leon, another day in Armor Games was another day spent border-line flaming or trolling. Today, he was on his way to the Imaginarium to harass artists and belittle their intelligences. As he made his way to his destination, Leon decided to go through an alley, partly because he thought it could be a shortcut but mostly because he might be able to get away with something. The alley was plastered with posters. Leon figured that reading them would be a waste of valuable time.
When Leon reached the Imaginarium, it was busseling with activity. People were rushing around, talking and being generally inefficient.

"Hey! What's all this?" Leon shouted to no one in particular.

"It's about the announcement. Everyone's exited." said a man who could be considered very tall, as he was only a head shorter than Leon.

"Announcement? What announcement?" said Leon.

"Remember when the mods got out the-"

"With the big giant megaphone?" Leon interjected.

"Yes." said the man, slightly exasperated.

"Yeah, they got everyone's attention, told us to listen up, and then started talking about... something"
said Leon, trying to remember.

"You mean you don't remember?" asked the man.

"I wouldn't say that. More like I just didn't listen in the first place." Leon countered with a laugh.

"Didn't you see the posters?" said the man, suspecting that Leon was up to something.

"I saw 'em all right..." said Leon slowly,

"Well then you know all about the-" started the man,

"I just didn't read them." continued Leon coolly.

"You looked at them but didn't- how do you even do that? More importantly, why?" said the frustrated man.

"Well they probably aren't written in Gnollish." suggested Leon.

"They aren't. Can't you read English?" said the man, now curious.

"Of course I can." said Leon defensivy.

"Then why didn't you just say that they probably weren't written in English?"

"To be fair, they probably are written in English." said Leon, apparently highly amused.

"Then what's the- forget it. I have places to go." at that, the man ran off.
Leon figured that he ought to read one of the posters and figure out what was going on. Fortunately, the posters were easy to find as they were posted everywhere. Leon read:
Wish to serve Armorgames? Unlikely. Leon didn't wish to serve anyone or anything but himself and he didn't even do that very well either.
Wonder what it was like to be a moderator? Kinda crappy. Lots of work and little payoff. The ban was a nice ability, but there were better powers on the market. The delete was almost worthless. Mods could cover their tracks but that wasn't that great. Access to restricted areas was nice, but ultimately pointless.
Did Leon have what it took to become a moderator? Of course he did! Leon had plety of mettle. He could beat anyone else and win the title of mod. Leon would become the chosen one.

Yes, Leon would follow The Way of Moderation.