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

Stropaholic, I think it is time for the next part...

Yep, I agree. We've now reached the limit of those who have sent in the forms... the others we are trying to contact but...OH WAIT.

Here's Klaus' form:

1) my emote would be the duck :\\/

2) Soft Ice Cream Vanilla and Strawberry Swirl

3) I don't wear shoes, because of an accident involving an airline bathroom, I still have this scar as a memory of that...

4) I would fall asleep and dream of cake. And force strop to share his.

5) "THIS IS FOR LITTLE BOYS WHO THINK THEY ARE GAY BECAUSE THEY GET BONERS SOMETIMES" <- thats right

6) .....wash?

7) You don't know the meaning of over 9000 half as well as me, Klaus the magnificent! Plus I own a genuine scouter and infact knows that it was originally only over 8000 but americans wouldnt be crazy enough about 8000 so they changed it to 9000. THE MORE YOU LEARN(I am dead serious about that fact)

Some time after the Opening Ceremony

A veil of dust hung over the library shelves, blanketing the rows upon rows of unread volumes, their contents a mystery, and likely to remain that way, for they were in such condition that if one were to pick them up they were likely to collapse into dust themselves. This was a corner of the Library & Archives where nobody, especially not the narcoleptic Kingryan, would ever tread.

Except one particular by the name of Cenere. With librarian blood flowing through his veins, Cenere somehow lived on the smell of musty books and faded carpet, so often, as an addict goes back to their syringe or as a hog goes back to its own excrement, did Cenere come back to the library, the one of a rare handful.

This time, though, as he shuffled past the shelves, musing on how the light filtered down to these dark corners, he noticed a darker-than-usual shadow. Peering further, he noticed it was moving. After wiping his glasses from the dust and grime that had accumulated, he saw...



...a familiar ninja horse sitting at a card table, tossing slips of paper into two bins.

Cenere coughed. "What are you doing, Strop?"

There was no reply for a moment, then Strop broke out of his trance with a startled whinney. "Oh! I'm... going through the registration forms." He ranted on: "Can you believe it? All these victestants are either boring, or they're crazy! I haven't come across a single set of answers that I would consider moderator material!"

Cenere was suddenly bombarded with unpleasant memories of having to process several hundred impatient people on a hot Summer's mid-afternoon with a headache while wearing a stuffy three-piece suit. He was then suddenly subjected to an overwhelming urge to throttle Strop, but figured he would probably die if he did so, and somehow suppressed it.

"Also, did you know that more than half the victestants don't wear underwear? I never knew we had such a high proportion of commandos in this town. Creepy."

"Better than what you- uh, so... what kind of answers would you consider mod material?"

Strop blinked. "I don't know."

Cenere facepalmed.

Now we would like you to post the information about your location!

Setting: The Tavern.

What Leon is doing there: Leon would be drinking (I doubt they sell
alcoholic beverages in the AG tavern, which is fine: Leon's favorite
drink is water.) and talking at people. This would include telling
stories of his adventures to anyone who'll listen (read: no one),
trying to sell jewelry, trying to start fights and hitting on
everything that smells vaguely female. After a few minutes, Leon would begin systematically talking to everyone in the Tavern, trying to find out if they need anything found, lost or killed.

----------------------------------

Boring or crazy? Sounds like the mods to me! 'Sept the boring part.

Location: the Amusement Park


'And I love to live so pleasantly, Live this life of luxury, Lazing on a sunny afternoon.'. I have everything I could ever want in my castle. Beautiful tapestries and painings adorn my walls but there is nothing quite like finding a quiet spot in the Amusement Park (as hard as that can be sometimes it is worth it). I've been listening to my Zen for the past few hours in the bough of this tree, the beautiul melodies running through my mind. At least the songs have taken my mind of that competition "thing" I signed up for. It has been weeks and I haven't heard a word. No, I can't think of that now; I just need to clear my mind and drift off intot he music. Luckily this tree is away fromt he hubbub of the city or the busier parts of the park, though I can still hear the faint roars from the jousting arena. But that is just about drowned out by the serene sound of the flowing river. The tree I'm in is very old (I'm pretty sure it is oak). Knots run up the park like eyes and the branches twist in and out of each other. Below me the flowers so trampled by some users look so pretty and bright while above me the glowing sun makes the clouds look iridescent. I love it here. I can see most of the city, I can (more importanly) see my house. Plus it is only a short walk away if I see anything untoward going on. Shame I can't see the amphitheate much (at least fromt his branch) I assume the contest.... no I have to clear my mind and just relax....

__________________________________________________________________

I am very scared about the coming rounds but I hope this location is good enough. <runs>

Boring or crazy? Sounds like the mods to me! 'Sept the boring part.

Hooray for story format...I was bored.

Location: Cathedral

Moderator business, now leave me alone

After the introduction at the amphitheater (and filling out a ridiculous form with very serious answers) I went to a place where I was requested. Where could this be you ask?

"Why do those religous freaks want to see me?"

"Maybe they want you dead? I do rest inside you."

I stopped walking when I heard it say that, after all the Possessor never tried to help me before.

I smiled and said, "Or...or maybe they don't want you in control."

"Lies they all hate you, do not fall for their trap!"

I heard the fear in the Possessor's voice so I ran toward the cathedral as fast as I could.

As I came closer I heard it say, "STOP! Please! ... You give me no CHOICE."

At that my vision started to blur and I felt, drained, like I would never feel anything again. I had to stop it from stealing my streangth, so I stumbled into the cathedral. To find instant relief? No, I found 20 monks all staring at me with scorn on their faces.

"Speak demon! Why are you here, tell us before we kill you!"

I stuttered out, "Someone t-t-told me you sssent for me."

"None of us would DARE invite in the likes of you!"

I didn't know what to say so after much mumbling I said the first thing that came to mind (even if it wasn't exactly true), "M-moderator business, now l-leave me alone."

Why would someone make up a lie like that? Could it have something to do with the trials? No...I think?

They whispered to each other than the leader of them came up and said, "The only reason you are still alive is because if we killed you we would be breaking the commandment 'Respect all Moderators, Admins, and those they send.' now get away from the shrine of McNeely. I know it pains you anyway."

I managed to say, "The shrine does not pain me, in fact I am a strong believer in McNeely. The Possessor, or 'demon' is what is hurt. I am not evil I've just inherited, more than physical possessions from my ancestors," I thought I might as well take the trial here seeing as I am so weak, "Can you wake me when the trials start?" right before I passed out.

No to me there are some boring mods[...]

Location: Thoad's Hidey Hole
Full story:
I watched in awe as the fireworks burst in the sky and the music played. Carlie walked out on the stage and talked, with thunderous applause just by seeing her. I wasn't very impressed with her standing there. So I didn't really get why everyone roared. Must have been some brown-nosing. "That's not how the mod's will be picked this time, guys..." I thought, wanting to mumble it under my breathe. She said what she needed and Strop made an eyecatching flip onto the stage. "Showoff..." I mumbled, kicking some dirt.
Looking around at the completely full seats, I stared at the few different members who also were not able to get a seat, standing in the stairway or sitting on the floor of the stairs. People tracked in a lot of dirt.. He made a speech and let- "Hey! That's Cenere!" I randomly yelled, despite me being loud I'm pretty sure no one could hear me. Whether or not they were excited or just tuning the whole thing out.
I heard something about registration, and immediatly broke into a run towards the stage, jumping over people and falling down (getting trampled almost right after). I would feel bad for anyone who fell down and stayed down. Gotten into something of a line, I got to Cen, saying a greeting and happily taking the paperwork.. Filling out what I needed, I gave back back the paperwork along with a slip.
**SEE SLIP**
+++
"Finally, I'm registered for the Way of Moderation and I'm ready to... go back to boring AG life again...." sudden realisation that it could be several weeks until I was able to get to the first round. If there was one, that is.
After getting a bag of beef jerky from the market, I went to a special hidey hole for about the rest of the day. Located in the Residential area of ArmorLand, it was only acsessed via small tunnel near rank #213879. It bursted up in a smal, brightly colored clearing among haunted slum buildings. No sunlight was to be seen, though. I had brought a rare kind of mushroom only found near the otherworldly games. I had taken a glowing crystal made from the great art of programming and mixed it with mushroom spores. Making a "Glowshroom".
The Glowshrooms shined brightly as a few ghost accounts fluttered in between closed windows through the clearing. The clearing had a few bugs and snails, but otherwise not much life was to be seen. Probably because nothing liked teh ghost accounts that haunted this area. I strode towards the middle of the clearing, watering a little plant growing there. "This tree is going to make the cherry on top of the cake around here..." I said, smiling brightly.
Sitting down on the moist grass, I looked up at the buildings around me. Only a manhole-cover sized hole was in the mass, but that was only able to give light at a certain time of day. The glowshrooms were probably what was able to get most of the light the plant needed, but maybe I will open a bit of the hole in the ceiling of the clearing. "Peaceful...." I mumbled, laying down.

Location only:
"Finally, I'm registered for the Way of Moderation and I'm ready to... go back to boring AG life again...." sudden realisation that it could be several weeks until I was able to get to the first round. If there was one, that is.
After getting a bag of beef jerky from the market, I went to a special hidey hole for about the rest of the day. Located in the Residential area of ArmorLand, it was only acsessed via small tunnel near rank #213879. It bursted up in a smal, brightly colored clearing among haunted slum buildings. No sunlight was to be seen, though. I had brought a rare kind of mushroom only found near the otherworldly games. I had taken a glowing crystal made from the great art of programming and mixed it with mushroom spores. Making a "Glowshroom".
The Glowshrooms shined brightly as a few ghost accounts fluttered in between closed windows through the clearing. The clearing had a few bugs and snails, but otherwise not much life was to be seen. Probably because nothing liked teh ghost accounts that haunted this area. I strode towards the middle of the clearing, watering a little plant growing there. "This tree is going to make the cherry on top of the cake around here..." I said, smiling brightly.
Sitting down on the moist grass, I looked up at the buildings around me. Only a manhole-cover sized hole was in the mass, but that was only able to give light at a certain time of day. The glowshrooms were probably what was able to get most of the light the plant needed, but maybe I will open a bit of the hole in the ceiling of the clearing. "Peaceful...." I mumbled, laying down.

A Day In An Aristocrats Life(1st Person):
Well this is just great. Every single person in this town is staring at me! Might as well just fly, but then i would draw more attention to myself. Well I guess I should stop at the Armor Bank to get some points to do some stuff around here. There doesn't seem to be much. I should check out the games they have here. It's basically the only thing I know
"Well that was quick" i muttered. I was standing in front of a Medieval styled bank. It looked a little old. I walked in. The place was kind of dead. No one was here except for like one teller. I walked up to him "Um... Sir? What do you require of the Armor games Bank today?" He said. He seemed very frightened. "Hmm I would like some Armor points." I said not trying to worry him. "Well what is your name?" "Gametesta" i said with a proud tone. The teller rolled his eyes. "Well let me run that through the system....... Wow you have a lot of armor points! Like almost 9000! Rank 72! Must be nice living in Aristocrat's way!" He said in astonishment. I was puzzled. How could i have that many armor points? I just got here. "Err how again do you earn Armor points?" I asked. "Well yyou can earn then by commenting, rating games, posting in the forums, creating a game, and writing a merit." Ah now i get it. The rating game thing. That is why i have so many. "Oh um thanks. I will see you later i think." I then left hurriedly, but grabbed a map on my way outside. I planned on going to Aristocrat's way.
When I finally got there it wasn't very crowded. It was very noisy and loud though. People arguing everywhere. I had a hard time finding my place. When i finally did it was very new compared to the others. A big number 72 on the door. It was strange, instead of a doorknob there was a large but thin hole. I stuck my sword in it and opened the door. Cool. I walked in. It was like a hotel suite, but it smelled vacant. It also had a shower, mini fridge, a bed a T.V. and a lot of other common day appliances. And everything seemed to be fitted for my special needs. "Well this is a nice little place." i said to myself. I guess I'll just take a nap and maybe I will wake up and this will a still be here.....

(Place chosen: Aristocrat's Way)

Location: Manta's Underwater Mansion on Aristocrat Way

I had returned from the amphitheater (after submitting my very soggy registration form...) to my village. I opened my mailbox and peered inside.

What I found were two letter. One was a plain white one, the other, an ominous black envelope, embroidered with purple laces.

I decided the white one was just spam anyway, but I get the most interesting spam. So I opened it. Apparently, I had been chosen to deliver a package filled with millions of British Pounds to... Milwaukee? More specifically, "U hav been chosed to delver tihs pakageto milwalkee. when u arrive, u wil recieve 10% of its contents."


A few pieces of rubbish spewed out at me after I was done reading. I just crumpled it and disposed of it in the trees. Next I retrieved the black envelope. I had never seen a letter the likes of this, so, my fishy curiosity piqued, I ripped it open and grasped the letter that rested inside.

It seemed to be stuck. I pulled harder. Still wouldn't budge. Using about half of my strength (that would suffice), I pulled it out without stopping, and what came out was... shocking, to say the least.

As I jerked, whatever was inside flew out, spiraling over my head, knocking me down to the gravel. A petite piece of paper fluttered down and landed on my chest. I scanned it through.



I didn't remember having an Uncle Urchin... But, hey! 3,000 AP! That put me in the top 100!

As I turned around, I saw whatever had flown out of the letter was a large box. I opened it, next thing I know, I'm inside of an underwater mansion. I wandered outside to find myself on Aristocrat Way. While I didn't quite understand the mechanics of what had just happened, I didn't question it.

Anyway, it dawned on me that it could be weeks before the next round of the Way of Moderation started... darn. I had absolutely nothing else to do but rest inside my new mansion. With a mini-fridge in every room, 10 bedrooms, one for each nap I took, a training facility to hone my kickboxing skills, and an aquarium with every marine creature I could or couldn't imagine.

Life was good.
*************************************************************************************

Hmm... kind of... long... but I have nothing better to do (besides homework, American football, riding my bike...).

Anyway, hope that's sufficient. Sorry about the atrocious mousewriting on my picture.

Parsat would have liked to be anywhere else besides the place he was in. Below him he could hear the organ starting, its notes faintly reaching the heights of his tower.

If it wasn't for his sadistic landlord, in fact, he might not have needed to take this extra job as a bellboy in the cathedral steeple. In fact, he didn't know what was in his mind when he applied for it. The bell was so large and ponderous that he couldn't merely pull the rope to ring it, he had to half-climb the rope to get it to ring. Not only that, but he was slightly afraid of heights, and although the railing was sufficiently high to block a nasty fall it still made him queasy.

At least I'm a prettier sight than the previous bellowner. That guy was butt-ugly, he thought as he sat under the shadow of the enormous bell.

Location: Wilderness

"Okay... What have we in store this time, oh wild... Er... Wilderness?" There was Frank, crouched under a large oak, it's shadow concealing him from any who wight wander by. He noted in his mind the strength and angle of the wind.
"Coast appears to be clear, for the time being..." Frank slowly rose, detaching himself from the shadows of his hiding spot. He stepped carefully over the tripwire he had set, and looked around. Just then, the ground around him rose up and changed shape. He was standing in what appeared to be an office building, with a large pane of glass on one end.
"Strange... I have this sudden urge to run through that window... Well, go with the flow, I suppose." Frank ran as fast as he could, lifting his arms up and shattering the glass on contact. He fell down a story or so, rolling onto his back. Standing up and dusting himself off, he gazed at his surroundings.
"Looks like somebody went overboard with the grayscale... Oh well. Not as bad as getting stuck in that old train car with those zombies." He looked up, staring at the monotone sky. As what looked to be some sort of aircraft passe overhead, he felt that surge of adrenaline again.
"Time to go, then." Frank ran to the end of the roof, managing to leap across a gap to the next. And he was off, propelling himself faster and faster, up, down, and through the dull buildings.
"This seems awfully easy... Between this and the colors, I'm starting to get drowsy..." As Frank mused to himself, he failed to notice the bomb dropping in on his position. With a sharp whistle, it fell only two feet in front of him. Frank came to a skidding halt, stopping himself nearly an inch away.
"Well... That's just not nice. Who would drop a bomb on this place? It's so... Bleak... Never mind. Off, again." And so it was. Though, it ended shortly after. Frank made a desperate leap, nearly making it up the seven or so feet he had to reach the next rooftop. Nearly. He landed on his chest, slowly sliding off the ledge.
"No... No... No no no no no-" He slipped off, plummeting to his fate. It just so happened that his fate was only three meters from where he had entered the strange world. Frank appeared ten feet above ground level, landing on hard soil with a thunk.
"N- Oof... That's gonna leave bruises..." He turned over on his back, wiping dirt from his face.
"Well that wasn't fun..." Frank stood up, dusting himself off.
"Nothing broken, I hope..." He poked his ribs, testing the strength of each one as he went down.
"Nothing there..." He shook his legs and arms, and again, felt nothing.
"Well, then, nothing to worry about... I hope... My, look at the time... I'd best be off to my hunting spot before dark."
Frank strolled off, securing his longbow and quiver on his back.
--

Hope that's good enough. If needed, I'll redo.

Wheeee it's getting off the ground!!!

which confuses me as to why neither would be mod material

Crimson might even beat Cenere for the award of Most Humourless. Then again Crimson might be forgiven for that since Strop is erratic on that count and Cenere... well Cenere just generally disapproves lolol.