Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Adventures of AG : A State of Emergency

Nickname: Death

What you are: Male teenager. Grimm Reapers apprentice, usually goofing of with the dead by jumping on them XD. His job is to bring wandering ghost to the light.

Description of your characters look: He's tall, brown hair with black eyes. Always wearing jeans, a red shirt and sneakers.
Description of your characters personality: He's lazy, more or less funny, always ready to help a friend, wise and sticks to the rules, but sometimes breaks them when it needs to be broken.

And how have you contributed to any section of the Forums:I'm usually found in the tavern and forum games. Though sometimes visits the AMW section to read some stories and poetry.

Forging style: Death doesn't normally fight. But when he does he uses a mix of street fithing and failed Kung-Fu wich looks rideculouse but is really affective.

Moral code: Every body should be treated with respect and shouldn't be randomly kicked in the croche unless told to do so. All new acquantents must be treated politly and he always has to have manners. Death will help anybody in need.

Hope I get in!

Strop is lying on the floor, limbs splayed. He's unconscious, obviously knocked out by some powerful enemy. Moon approaches his limp figure.
"First you talk arrogant, and now you're napping while the mods have disappeared! What is up with you, Strop?" Moon says as she pushes him with her foot.

"Huh wuh what?" Strop sits up groggily from the floor, then quickly leaps up into a defensive position, [ninja stars in hand]. "Where is he? Where did he go?!"
"Woah woah woah there, pony boy, calm down." Moon says as she pats Strop's shoulder. "The mods are gone, and you are the only one left. Peculiar predicament you're in."
Tacky, intimidated by the mod, is too nervous to enter the room. She rocks back and forth on her skates by the door while Moon interrogates the ninja horse.
"I... I didn't take the moderators, Moon. All I know, is I was hit with a fish in the face, and then your kicking me." Strop says with uncertainty in his voice.
"So that's what that horrid smell is... fish... hmm... sehr interessant..."
"Moon, stop taking mental notes. I know that is what you are doing. This isn't one of your crime shows." Tacky groans, trying to step into the room without Strop noticing.

"Is that a troll knife, by any chance?" Strop says out of the blue, motioning at Tacky's belt.
"Uhm, yes...sir, penguin-make #26T." Tacky says, a hint of nervousness left in her voice.
"That is a great troll knife, penguin make, you say? May I see it?"
"Sure." Tacky says as she hands the knife to Strop. He starts flipping it around and spinning it in his palm. After some theatrics, he hands it back to her, in the way a little kid would putting a cool toy back on the store shelf would.
"That sure is a nice knife. I'll have to look into getting me one of those." Strop says, trying to make Tacky comfortable. Tacky immediately starts talking with him about knives and weapons and skates and such, while Moon looks around the floor, noting clues.

The place is ruined, but finding the little things that stick out is a talent that Moon has, and she noticed a few fish scales lying around the place. Well that proves that guy in the Tavern right, she thinks. "It's a fish I tell you a fish!" Moon finds one thing on the floor that looks out of place. Its a piece of a block with engraved with "This thr-" but then it cuts off. "Strop, do you moderators have any enemies?" Moon ask. "We have people that get mad at us, but no one would take all of the moderators. I don't even think any one could take them all." Strop answers, confused.
"What should we do? Who is going to get all of the moderators back?" Tacky asks, clutching onto her troll knife tightly.
"I will go." Strop bravely offers.
"Are you crazy? No way are you going to go alone. The criminal caught a DRAGON of all things. And you were knocked out on the floor! You can't go on your own!" Tacky shouts.
"I'll put together a team, then." Strop reasons with her.
"We are in." Moon says with confidence.
"What?! Two little kids? I think not." Strop says, astounded by the idea.
"You don't know where to look, and I do. Tacky is great with people, she can muster up brave souls to help find them. They are our moderators, Strop. Believe it or not over half the community loves them, and most everyone realizes that we need them. We are in, whether you like it or not." Moon said defiantly, leaving Strop no choice but to accept.

Okay followers!

Tacky and I will be creating a team of people to help find the mods!
Thank you for all who have submitted an application, you get a cookie. And even more thanks and cookies to those who updated their apps for the changes.

We will be picking all of the people for the team within the next few hours, if not have a team done by tomorrow.

Remember, email AdventuresOfArmorGames@yahoo.com if you have any questions!

Thanks a million!

I think this was my favorite part so far. Maybe because it reminded me of law and order. I hope Im on the team

Pony boy!? That is hilarious, I wonder what's Strop's reaction is going to be...

Way to go CSI on us Moon... -_-' I can see you with a pair of mirrored shades now.

Way to go CSI on us Moon... -_-' I can see you with a pair of mirrored shades now.

Pony boy!? That is hilarious, I wonder what's Strop's reaction is going to be...

Less talking, more writing!

Less talking, more writing!

Nickname: Orion Stellus
What you are: A large orc

He's big, ugly, and has armor. There, am I done? Okay, maybe not. He has grey skin, white war paint, sharp teeth, slightly hunched over, about six foot, and muscular. Typical orc, really. His armor is made of steel, and is slightly rusted with war paint and blood all over it. He carries a long sword, with forty two notches in the hilt for all the warriors he's killed.

Extremely unpredictable, sadistic, and psychotic. Tends to be a great leader, though.

I like totally have over three thousand posts. Does that count for something?

He's big, ugly,

I hope I can still submit. If not, then that sucks for me.

Nickname: Bunneh
What I Am: A Bunneh.
Description of characters look: Large ears, around 2 feet tall and 3 feet long. In other words, a slightly large bunneh.
Description of characters personality: Always hopping around. Both figuratively and literally. Warning: Bunneh should never ingest anything with a high sugar or caffeine count!


How I've contributed to forums: I'm a new person here in AMW, and maybe I'll become a regular. Does that help?

"We should probably hurry." says Strop. "The dude that attacked me was strong. He'll travel quickly and if he makes it to the land of Ghosts, then who knows how we'll find him? It's a wasteland out there, filled with trolls." The three of them make their way swiftly to the Tavern, where everyone's sure to be gathered, conversing.
"Uh." says Tacky. "About the trolls. There's gotta be a lot lurking around now, since most of the Moderators are gone."
"The Veterans will have to deal with them when we're gone." says Strop grimly. They turn the corner and arrive at the Tavern. Sure enough, there is loud commotion as trolls wreak havoc on the unsuspecting users, screeching nonsense. A few noobs attempt to flame the trolls away, but the fire only infuriates them further. The more adept users try to fight the trolls off, but they are still hopelessly outnumbered. Before Tacky and Moon can even react, Strop jumps into the fray. He pulls out his ninja stars and fells three trolls in one swoop. But they keep coming. Without any delay, he twirls out the Banhammer with a heavy thud.
The trolls falter for a moment, but then lunge with all their mindless fury. Like the ninja he is, Strop flips and twirls, cleaving the Banhammer through throngs of Trolls. After a multitude are sufficiently banned, the rest flee, screeching obscenities. Strop pants slightly and sheathes the Banhammer. "Annoying little things."
After everyone is calmed down, Strop swiftly leaps up on a table and shouts. "Attention!!!" His authority as a moderator is unquestionable.
"Strop, you're alive!" A random user shouts. There's a smattering of applause, but Strop silences them.
"As you know, something terrible has struck the Armor Games Kingdom. The moderators have been taken." There's a collective gasp, though most already knew. "ArmorGames cannot function without our Moderators. We need to get them back. But I can't get them back myself." A ripple of murmuring echoes through the Tavern. Strop clears his throat. "I'm putting together a team. Tacky and Moon are included." He grumbles a bit at the end. Suddenly there's an outburst of talking, and users swarm to where Strop is standing with requests to help find the Moderators. "We're only accepting those qualified." Strop yells over the crowd.
Tacky and Moon watch the clamoring from the other end of the room. "Should we help him?" Tacky asks lazily, still tired from the battle with the Troll.
"Nah..." grins Moon, stretching her wings.

After a few hours of selection, Strop tiredly picks out TO BE DETERMINED. He looks at the eager faces, most of them relatively young. "I hope you know," He says wearily, "that this will be the most difficult journey of your lives. Just be prepared. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes. Pack your things for a tough trip." He pauses, and a pained expression crosses his face. "Know that some of you might not return."

Tacky and Moon race up the stairs of the AMW Dorms, Wolf walking behind them with heavy steps. They throw the door open to their room and start throwing things into backpacks. Moon picks up a bag she always keeps handy for things like this, containing a number of weapons and some stealth clothes along with tons of t-shirts and jean shorts. She zaps it with a random spell and makes it float in the air behind her. Tacky throws in a little locked box as well as two sets of simple clothes, some snacks, and a pair of sneakers for non skatable areas.
"What's that?" asks Moon curiously, her pack floating closely behind her.
"Oh, you remember...Ernie lent us his death ray? One use only." Tacky closes her pack and opens the door. "Ready, Moon?"
"Aren't I always?" She replies in a sarcastic but honest tone. She uses a tranformation spell that turns her oversized bag into a slim bookbag and throws it over her shoulder.
They arrive at the Tavern, where they are met by Danny, otherwise known as Dannydaninja.
"No way." Blurts Moon excitedly.
"Yes way." Strop sighs. "We don't have a lead, so...we're going back in AG time. To look for some clues. This here's going to be our programmer."
Danny smiles brightly and Moon and Tacky, then punches some buttons on a small device and weaves a few codes through the air, opening a deep rift in supposedly empty space. "Let's go." The group is ready to go through, when...
"Wait!! Wait!!" Supa, pack messily assembled, stumbles into the Tavern. "Can I come?"
"Didn't I already turn you down?"
"Please." Supa pleads. "Pleeeease?"
Strop sighs. "All right." And the team steps through the portal, into the unknown.

Wow, that's pretty awesome! Nice job on the story so far.

Can't wait for there to be more *Waits impatiently for his character to be included in the story*

TO BE DETERMINED

Does as idont does.

I assume TO BE DETERMINED holds some deep, profound meaning?