• What Are You Thinking? V. DUNCANFROST BE GAY
    2,002 replies, posted
[QUOTE=GyroburnerV2;17532982]I thought it was 4?[/QUOTE] Hell's Highway, GT5P, GTA IV, Fallout 3, Mirror's Edge, Killzone 2
-snip- Wrong thread. Sorry.
[MEDIA]http://ps3thevolution.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/conceptthunderdrop.jpg[/MEDIA] Better than [img]http://girlsofwar.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/prototype-20080424015233500_640w.jpg[/img]
I played prototype and it was pretty meh. Hohum, on par, mediocre.
But Prototype look more awesome than InFamous
106 new posts? oh that explains it :|
[QUOTE=Joxalot;17533134]But Prototype look more awesome than InFamous[/QUOTE] But inFamous is better overall.
[media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8u7px_GzWQ[/media] OF COURSE. Am I right? :smug:
[QUOTE=Dronaroid;17533154]But inFamous is better overall.[/QUOTE] I don't give a shit, I just want a PS3 :saddowns:
[QUOTE=Dronaroid;17533099][MEDIA]http://ps3thevolution.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/conceptthunderdrop.jpg[/MEDIA] Better than [img]http://girlsofwar.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/prototype-20080424015233500_640w.jpg[/img][/QUOTE] [QUOTE=Suttles;17533176][media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8u7px_GzWQ[/media] OF COURSE. Am I right? :smug:[/QUOTE] Yes. :smug:
Of course!
[QUOTE=Joxalot;17533197]I don't give a shit, I just want a PS3 :saddowns:[/QUOTE] I want a PS3 too. I have a 360 and a less than upgraded computer. My 8600 gt is dieing gracefully.
Want to play LBP online so much right now
[B]Damien's history: July 5th 2037.[/B] It was already 2am, and the sun had set hours ago, yet the air and ground still retained a balmy warmth that could only exist in the summertime. The warm summer breeze whilstling through the night made Damien more alert than the strongest coffee, as he exited the Parisian Mage's Club. Ever since his arrival in Hub, he had settled into a very stable routine. On weekdays, he worked 9 to 6 at Newman Industries, on weekends he would hang around the Mage's Club, practicing spells and rituals to further his understandings of the arcane, and at nights he would plug himself into a cyberjack, so he could play videogames whilst his body slept. He had made many friends at the Club; including Blaze, who had more of an interest in fire-based magicks than any other types. He stayed late that Saturday night, as he always did, to help an associate of his, a vortigaunt by the name of Josiah, to prepare a summoning circle for tomorrow's plane-shifting experiment. After using a binding incantation to protect the charged powders that comprised the circle, they agreed to call it a night, and headed off home. Strolling down Laszlow Boulevarde, Damien watched the aircraft high above flitter across the skies, their headlights creating a transfixing light show. "Such wonderful lights...", Damien thought. "That reminds me, I should probably get my Support guy up to Level 24 in Battlefield 2022...". His thoughts were derailed suddenly when he felt something bump into him, almost throwing him off-balance. When he looked around to see what had hit him, he saw a young Felan girl, almost a young adult, extremely distraught and out of breath. For a moment, Damien pondered why she looked so shaken, but a few seconds later, his question was answered. Looking down the alley where she ran out from, he saw a white figure running towards her, wearing pure white robes, and a silver skull mask obscuring it's face. He knew what faction bore such a garb. Instinctively, he stood in the figure's path, and the figure stopped in it's tracks, noticably aggravated by Damien's intervention. "Stand aside, brother, and let the work of the Lord be done!", the figure echoed. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?", Damien replied with contemptuous venom in his voice. "Claim the life of another innocent non-human, will ya? Well not today, [highlight]KLANSMAN![/highlight]". "You must understand, brother", the Klansman countered with a tone of ominous concern to his voice, "That my mission, and the mission of my bretheren, is for the sake of our species, and of the very Earth itself! By standing in the way, you potentially doom the fate of our race, YOUR race! As long as there is humankind is not alone on this planet, there will never be a future for the species..." Damien scoffed playfully at the clever justifications of this cold-blooded genocidal killer. "Such well-woven words... A man after my own heart.", he remarked. "But your clever arguments do not justify the genocidal carnage your association has spread throughout the country. I see through the illustrious lies you preach to your fellow man, for they are no more than deceitful veils of righteousness masking the primal hatred of anything not human that is the true driving force of your cause. Either leave this girl alone and rethink your life, or stay and get what's fuckin' coming to you..." The Klansman appeared to be losing patience with this interloper, blocking the path to his prey. Drawing a knife from beneath his robes, the Klansman issued a final warning. "You are in no position to question a Knight of the Klan, you foolish [B]BASTARD[/B]. Either leave now, and live your life, or remain here, and witness me pull your heart from your chest." This death threat caused a chill of fear to ripple down Damien's spine, but only for a split second. He then felt a new sensation, brought on by himself. Magickal energies coursed through his nerves, and arcane energies danced like flame across his palms, flowing like water between his fingers. His mind now swam with images, each one associated with a corresponding magickal effect. He was now in what he liked to call his "Casting Zone". And with psychic energies resonating around his vocal chords, he uttered three words, bathed in mockery and hatred. "[highlight]BRING IT, BITCH.[/highlight]". Both the emotion-altering vocal spell, and a sense of self-righteous indignation, caused the Klansman to lose his shit completely. With a scream of rage, devoid of all reason, he charged towards Damien, knife forward, his only intent focused on the demise of his antagonist. The next sets of events occured within the space of roughly 3 seconds. Second 1: Damien waved his hand through the air, compressing big quantities of space and matter into the palm of his hand. There was barely 18 feet separating him and the Klansman. Second 2: Damien closed his hand, holding the compressed space inside his fist, aiming his fist at his attacker. There was barely 3 feet between him and the Klansman. Second 3: Damien opened his fist, releasing the compressed space, and a thick wave of space, air, and psychic energy issued forth at supersonic speeds. There was now 50 feet between him and the Klansman. The blast forced the Klansman back with astonishing force, slamming him into a brick wall, knocking him out stone cold. A jubilant grin of satisfaction formed on Damien's face. "Thank you...", the young Felan said, still in shock by the events that had transpired. She had never expected to cross the paths of a wizard that night. But then again, she had not expected the Klansmen to perform a guerilla raid on her mother's apartment whilst they were hosting a cocktail party, either. Damien turned around, noting her light French accent and calico fur, as well as her cocktail dress. "It was nothing, Miss", Damien replied. "Just the work of a man who has nothing better to do on weekends but hang around the Mage's Club until nightfall..." He walked over to the body of the Klansman, slightly concerned over whether he had killed the poor deluded sod. Sure, Damien was willing to fight for the safety of others, but he wasn't a killer. He kept that side of him in the videogames he played. He searched for a pulse, and thankfully found one. "Oh thank fuck...", he sighed with relief. "It'd've been hell to pay for me if he were dead...". But now he was posed with a greater dilemma: what to do with the unconcious Klansman. He couldn't leave him there, he'd eventually come to and tell his bretheren, or even worse, the City Guard. But he couldn't kill him, either. Even if he could dispose of the body somehow, the Parisian CSI would probably track it down, and find evidence to link the Klansman's death to him. "Oh god...", he groaned with dread and sorrow. "I am so fucked..." The young Felan saw Damien's plight, and felt sorry for him. He had saved her life, and now he was destined for jail, or worse... Suddenly, an idea sparked into her mind. She knew someone who could help him with this, someone in her family. She walked over to her saviour, now sobbing over the prospect of jail time. "Excuse me...", she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think I can help you with this..." "I appreciate the gesture, Miss", Damien replied, with tears in his eyes, "But i'm not sure anything can help me now. I'm a dead man." "Actually, I think it can. I know someone who can make sure no-one finds this person", she countered. Damien suddenly felt a strong feeling within him. Something both wonderful and terrible. A surge of one of the universe's most powerful illusions - hope. "Really?!", he exclaimed with hopeful despair. "You know someone who can get me out of this mess?". She pulled out her mobile phone. "Very much so, monsieur." She dialed a number, and a few seconds later, a voice at the other end spoke in a French dialect. She replied in the same language, and hung up. "He'll be here soon", she declared. The air started to take on a strange, electrical feel to it, and an eldritch glow started to appear near one of the garbage disposals. An otherworldly hum resounded there, and a sense of displacement seemed to warp the fabric of reality around it. Loud electrical sparks resounded in the vicinity, and a noticable echo-ey crashing sound heralded the teleportation of someone into the area. "Here 'e is", the girl announced. "My brother George." Damien caught sight of another Felan, a young male, similar to the girl he had saved. His attire was a huge contrast to his sister's attire. He wore ragged camoflauge clothing, and had a maroon bandana wrapped around his head. He looked as if he had been fighting a long war, and looked pretty much equipped for a full-out commando mission. "Ah, Chloe!", he proclaimed, his voice heavily accented. "Eees good to see you alive an' well. 'ow's mother?". Chloe looked away, her face filled with regret. "They took her", she said mournfully. "The Klansmen raided her apartment, about 20 minutes ago. I barely escaped with my life..." A look of horror dawned on George's face. "Mon dieu... They took her?! I-I-I can't believe eet! Eees impossible! We 'ave to save her!" "It's too late, George", Chloe said with despair. "She's probably at the Cathedral by now, being prepared for whatever sick evils they 'ave planned." To be continued...?
[QUOTE=Limerick;17533230]I want a PS3 too. I have a 360 and a less than upgraded computer. My 8600 gt is dieing gracefully.[/QUOTE] I have an iPod touch :colbert:
[QUOTE=Smirnoff Joe;17533243][B]Damien's history: July 5th 2037.[/B] It was already 2am, and the sun had set hours ago, yet the air and ground still retained a balmy warmth that could only exist in the summertime. The warm summer breeze whilstling through the night made Damien more alert than the strongest coffee, as he exited the Parisian Mage's Club. Ever since his arrival in Hub, he had settled into a very stable routine. On weekdays, he worked 9 to 6 at Newman Industries, on weekends he would hang around the Mage's Club, practicing spells and rituals to further his understandings of the arcane, and at nights he would plug himself into a cyberjack, so he could play videogames whilst his body slept. He had made many friends at the Club; including Blaze, who had more of an interest in fire-based magicks than any other types. He stayed late that Saturday night, as he always did, to help an associate of his, a vortigaunt by the name of Josiah, to prepare a summoning circle for tomorrow's plane-shifting experiment. After using a binding incantation to protect the charged powders that comprised the circle, they agreed to call it a night, and headed off home. Strolling down Laszlow Boulevarde, Damien watched the aircraft high above flitter across the skies, their headlights creating a transfixing light show. "Such wonderful lights...", Damien thought. "That reminds me, I should probably get my Support guy up to Level 24 in Battlefield 2022...". His thoughts were derailed suddenly when he felt something bump into him, almost throwing him off-balance. When he looked around to see what had hit him, he saw a young Felan girl, almost a young adult, extremely distraught and out of breath. For a moment, Damien pondered why she looked so shaken, but a few seconds later, his question was answered. Looking down the alley where she ran out from, he saw a white figure running towards her, wearing pure white robes, and a silver skull mask obscuring it's face. He knew what faction bore such a garb. Instinctively, he stood in the figure's path, and the figure stopped in it's tracks, noticably aggravated by Damien's intervention. "Stand aside, brother, and let the work of the Lord be done!", the figure echoed. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?", Damien replied with contemptuous venom in his voice. "Claim the life of another innocent non-human, will ya? Well not today, [highlight]KLANSMAN![/highlight]". "You must understand, brother", the Klansman countered with a tone of ominous concern to his voice, "That my mission, and the mission of my bretheren, is for the sake of our species, and of the very Earth itself! By standing in the way, you potentially doom the fate of our race, YOUR race! As long as there is humankind is not alone on this planet, there will never be a future for the species..." Damien scoffed playfully at the clever justifications of this cold-blooded genocidal killer. "Such well-woven words... A man after my own heart.", he remarked. "But your clever arguments do not justify the genocidal carnage your association has spread throughout the country. I see through the illustrious lies you preach to your fellow man, for they are no more than deceitful veils of righteousness masking the primal hatred of anything not human that is the true driving force of your cause. Either leave this girl alone and rethink your life, or stay and get what's fuckin' coming to you..." The Klansman appeared to be losing patience with this interloper, blocking the path to his prey. Drawing a knife from beneath his robes, the Klansman issued a final warning. "You are in no position to question a Knight of the Klan, you foolish [B]BASTARD[/B]. Either leave now, and live your life, or remain here, and witness me pull your heart from your chest." This death threat caused a chill of fear to ripple down Damien's spine, but only for a split second. He then felt a new sensation, brought on by himself. Magickal energies coursed through his nerves, and arcane energies danced like flame across his palms, flowing like water between his fingers. His mind now swam with images, each one associated with a corresponding magickal effect. He was now in what he liked to call his "Casting Zone". And with psychic energies resonating around his vocal chords, he uttered three words, bathed in mockery and hatred. "[highlight]BRING IT, BITCH.[/highlight]". Both the emotion-altering vocal spell, and a sense of self-righteous indignation, caused the Klansman to lose his shit completely. With a scream of rage, devoid of all reason, he charged towards Damien, knife forward, his only intent focused on the demise of his antagonist. The next sets of events occured within the space of roughly 3 seconds. Second 1: Damien waved his hand through the air, compressing big quantities of space and matter into the palm of his hand. There was barely 18 feet separating him and the Klansman. Second 2: Damien closed his hand, holding the compressed space inside his fist, aiming his fist at his attacker. There was barely 3 feet between him and the Klansman. Second 3: Damien opened his fist, releasing the compressed space, and a thick wave of space, air, and psychic energy issued forth at supersonic speeds. There was now 50 feet between him and the Klansman. The blast forced the Klansman back with astonishing force, slamming him into a brick wall, knocking him out stone cold. A jubilant grin of satisfaction formed on Damien's face. "Thank you...", the young Felan said, still in shock by the events that had transpired. She had never expected to cross the paths of a wizard that night. But then again, she had not expected the Klansmen to perform a guerilla raid on her mother's apartment whilst they were hosting a cocktail party, either. Damien turned around, noting her light French accent and calico fur, as well as her cocktail dress. "It was nothing, Miss", Damien replied. "Just the work of a man who has nothing better to do on weekends but hang around the Mage's Club until nightfall..." He walked over to the body of the Klansman, slightly concerned over whether he had killed the poor deluded sod. Sure, Damien was willing to fight for the safety of others, but he wasn't a killer. He kept that side of him in the videogames he played. He searched for a pulse, and thankfully found one. "Oh thank fuck...", he sighed with relief. "It'd've been hell to pay for me if he were dead...". But now he was posed with a greater dilemma: what to do with the unconcious Klansman. He couldn't leave him there, he'd eventually come to and tell his bretheren, or even worse, the City Guard. But he couldn't kill him, either. Even if he could dispose of the body somehow, the Parisian CSI would probably track it down, and find evidence to link the Klansman's death to him. "Oh god...", he groaned with dread and sorrow. "I am so fucked..." The young Felan saw Damien's plight, and felt sorry for him. He had saved her life, and now he was destined for jail, or worse... Suddenly, an idea sparked into her mind. She knew someone who could help him with this, someone in her family. She walked over to her saviour, now sobbing over the prospect of jail time. "Excuse me...", she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think I can help you with this..." "I appreciate the gesture, Miss", Damien replied, with tears in his eyes, "But i'm not sure anything can help me now. I'm a dead man." "Actually, I think it can. I know someone who can make sure no-one finds this person", she countered. Damien suddenly felt a strong feeling within him. Something both wonderful and terrible. A surge of one of the universe's most powerful illusions - hope. "Really?!", he exclaimed with hopeful despair. "You know someone who can get me out of this mess?". She pulled out her mobile phone. "Very much so, monsieur." She dialed a number, and a few seconds later, a voice at the other end spoke in a French dialect. She replied in the same language, and hung up. "He'll be here soon", she declared. The air started to take on a strange, electrical feel to it, and an eldritch glow started to appear near one of the garbage disposals. An otherworldly hum resounded there, and a sense of displacement seemed to warp the fabric of reality around it. Loud electrical sparks resounded in the vicinity, and a noticable echo-ey crashing sound heralded the teleportation of someone into the area. "Here 'e is", the girl announced. "My brother George." Damien caught sight of another Felan, a young male, similar to the girl he had saved. His attire was a huge contrast to his sister's attire. He wore ragged camoflauge clothing, and had a maroon bandana wrapped around his head. He looked as if he had been fighting a long war, and looked pretty much equipped for a full-out commando mission. "Ah, Chloe!", he proclaimed, his voice heavily accented. "Eees good to see you alive an' well. 'ow's mother?". Chloe looked away, her face filled with regret. "They took her", she said mournfully. "The Klansmen raided her apartment, about 20 minutes ago. I barely escaped with my life..." A look of horror dawned on George's face. "Mon dieu... They took her?! I-I-I can't believe eet! Eees impossible! We 'ave to save her!" "It's too late, George", Chloe said with despair. "She's probably at the Cathedral by now, being prepared for whatever sick evils they 'ave planned."[/QUOTE] Where did you copy/paste that from?
Smirnoff Joe, see the PM I sent you. [editline]02:01PM[/editline] [QUOTE=Suttles;17533263]Where did you copy/paste that from?[/QUOTE] He made it.
[QUOTE=Suttles;17533263]Where did you copy/paste that from?[/QUOTE] No copypasta: all my own work. :clint:
So I was reading about the G20 meeting and came across this: [release][B]SECURITY:[/B] Thousands of protesters were expected during the week of the Summit, which was classified as a National Special Security Event. Security was coordinated by the United States Secret Service, working in conjunction with the Pittsburgh Police. It is estimated that 4,000 police officers were requested, and the city currently only has 900 police officers. The Pennsylvania State Police committed more than 1,000 officers for the downtown event, including SWAT, helicopter, mounted, undercover, bicycle and motorcycle officers. Allegheny County had 75 officers specifically trained by and embedded into the Pittsburgh Police Bureau for the event since June. New York City and Baltimore also committed some officers, as well as Pittsburgh suburbs. Some officers from Chicago traveled to assist, taking vacation days from their department. All officers, regardless of department, were under the command of the Secret Service for the event days.[8] Chinook and Black Hawk helicopters, armored Humvees and crews of U.S. Army soldiers, as well as 10 25-foot boats with M240 machine guns from the Coast Guard, were on hand in the event of large-scale violent protests or a terrorist attack.[/release] Woah.
Damien has psy powers? The fuck? What's that btw Joe? Like writing stories? Write about me using a technologic armor and fighting demons
Ees impossible!
I fucking love this show.
[QUOTE=Joxalot;17533343]Damien has psy powers? The fuck? What's that btw Joe? Like writing stories? Write about me using a technologic armor and fighting demons[/QUOTE] Shut up or I'll fry your brain. :downs:
:byodood:
Joe should write about my adventures talking about how I save Facepunch from 4chan as my alterego, Super Isaac.
They are already fried
:banjo:
[QUOTE=Smirnoff Joe;17533273]No copypasta: all my own work. :clint:[/QUOTE] :downsbravo: Awesome.
I'm gonna go play some Evil Genius.
[QUOTE=Dronaroid;17533384]Joe should write about my adventures talking about how I save Facepunch from 4chan as my alterego, Super Isaac.[/QUOTE] And how you woke up after that
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