Musical-Mettaur

I claim this post in the name of Mexico! Viva la Mexico! EDIT: I also claim Whiteshade.

Known for enjoying good music, am I right?

I'm here to kick bum and chew gum. And I'm all out of bum.

Ninja! Arrrgh!

Known for being evil. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD8b-QpL0eo I'll move on to another song sometime soon.

Confusing, I can't really understand the meaning of it, and the words are hard to make out. When he isn't shouting himself hoarse, it's like he isn't even singing. But it does have some positive aspects. 6.5/10 Now check this out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD8b-QpL0eo

Please, you think you'll win? I just love crushing the hope out of others like this.. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD8b-QpL0eo I'm the fear that keeps you wake! I'm the shadows on the wall, I'm the monsters they become, I'm the nightmare in your skull! I'm a dagger in your back, An extra turn upon the rack. I'm the quivering of your heart- -A stabbing pain, a sudden start!

I'm known for references to music videos, most of the time. Other times, jokes, and long talks. I guess. I think you are known for...eating brains? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQfOO4wKrrA EDIT: Song starts about...1:15.

You lose track of the posts when you wisely decide to shut down for the night. I wish for someone to play my Choose your own adventure on this forum. And good night folks.

So yeah! Wanna hear this dream about my cat I had last night? Um...sure...when is somepony gonna untie us?! So, we were in this grassy field, and there was this jello lake, with lobsters dancing on it.. Oh Celestia, somepony untie us!

Known for rocking it out at a wedding.

Known for making good signatures? I dunno, I've been gone a long time. Known for not yet trying the choose your own adventure I set up in this Coloseum?

8/10. Again, I'm the guy who did the Mafia Games? Hello, anyone remember me?

I remember this guy. 8/10.

I like this person as much as I like this song; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD8b-QpL0eo And I really like this song. Really, ain't it grand?

Well, no time like the present to inspect your surroundings. You decide to inspect the ship...and starting out in the storage room in the bottom, you notice all the various explosives and swords stored by your bearded seafarer. It's impressive, scary, and intriguing all at once. You can barely start to list all the different ways this man has for killing his enemies. You slowly back out of the room, nervous that you will set something off. As you leave, you see the small machine that pulverized the rock is sitting near a pile of Red Guardsmen Hats. You leave it be. All that is really left for you to see are the private quarters. The Bane of the East is busy with the actual sailing of the vessel, and probably wouldn't appreciate you barging into his private quarters while he was busy. So all that is left for you to see is Alex's living space. The door has a "do not disturb" sign..but you feel the need to search like there is no tomorrow left for your life! And, you wanted to gauge the skills Alex really has. So, you quietly open the door, just as Alex is about to remove the hat...spinning around now, and grabbing the staff. Alex at first seems scared and shocked, but soon grows angry and glares at you, taking a red bottle from the robe belt and gripping it like an explosive. Alex holds the staff in a guarded way, and almost growls at you,"Get out. NOW." This is what you've been able to gather about Alex from the Guild Files and what you've seen (And this very scene is illustrated, from the field of vision at the door frame); So...what will you do now, Adventurer?

You approach the Bane of the East during the voyage in the middle of the Ocean, and ask him if it would be possible to purchase explosives before making it to the villages. The pirate laughs in a good natured way,"Haha! Oh me lil' wee one, we's in da middle of de ocean! We's get the explosives when we reach de land, aye?" Anything else to do while on your voyage? Talk to others, inspect things?

I actually think it looks artistic. TPAM is interested in the choose your own adventure I set up in this forum.

As the pirate shambles onto his own impressive yet small ship, to ready it for departure, you try to break the ice by asking their names. The mage trembles a bit, before stuttering,"A-Al-l-a-a-Ale-Alex-" The mage's voice echoes so much, you can't even tell if it's male or female. Well, Alex. Seems like a manly enough name. Better than Wally at any rate. The small mining...thing, doesn't respond. It just hops along to the boat for departure. As you and the mage board the boat, you approach the pirate for his name. He laughs in a friendly tone,"Ahaha! I'm da Bane o' da East! And I'm yer main cap'en, figh'er, and manliest man fer dis adven'tur!" He laughs again, then peers at you with the scrutiny of a drunken man. "And yer da booky worm whose knows so much'en abou'd culture and lang'uege, eh?" He claps you on the back, not noticing that it knocks you to the floor."Ahaha! Treasure be awaiting us! I'll just need yer help setting da "Sea Strider" to journey!" Well, there you are. The pirate calls himself the Bane of the East, and describes his skills as fighter and seaman. The name of the mage, what it managed to stutter out, is Alex, and is obviously a mage. The little mining thing...it's some kind of golem, or something. Well, you set sail with your eclectic crew, and there are three options available for journey. You do not randomly go on adventure, at least, your job doesn't include that. You take contracts from local guild halls, which may expire by the time you finish a different job. One- A mostly buried desert temple, probably with monster guardians set by the pharoahs. Two- Three villages, each with a haunted mansion, each more terrifying and deadly than the last. Three- Slave traders. The complaint the guild got was from the traders, but when arriving you could either help more escape or round up the escapees.

This is a choose your own adventure for the whole community! You start off with three adventurers, and as the game progresses you can gain more or lose some by the way of mistakes and traps. The group starts in a wetland by the ocean. But I'll get to that in the story then. You follow the tour guide throughout the swamp, noting the indigenous species of mushrooms and porcine animals. The vines hang from the trees, poised almost as if to throttle passerby who dare trespass on their sacred soil...bah, you always bathe things in drama. No need to get jumpy this early on. First you actually get an assignment at the Adventurer's Guild, then your mother hears you are soon to go on a grand adventure! So she kicks you out of the house, and says "Don't come back until you bring me some grandchildren!". You never expected something like this. Your job at the desk was just fine! But now this stooped man is bringing you to a dingy looking shack by the water, with a creaky and broken dock by it. You wouldn't doubt that the boat moored to the docks has been so for at least a decade; the barnacle growth along the mooring rope supports your thoughts. Well, you reach the shack, and there are three figures beside it. One is a pirate if you'd ever seen one, with an eyepatch and a...small treasure chest on his three-cornered-hat. He has a thick beard and sideburns, and laughs as he does fancy maneuvers with his katana. He also appears to be inebriated. The second figure is a bit short to the ground. It's a small orb, maybe a gnome or a head with feet? It's obscured under it's bright mining helmet, but the glowing eyes are focusing on an ancient and giant boulder. In a flash, it whips out a pickaxe and pulverizes the rock. Maybe it's one of those new golem things? And the third appears to be a wizard of sorts. You can't see his...her...face at all, or any shape to it's body. It wears a blue robe with no decoration, and thick brown gloves of leather. A light blue scarf is wrapped around it's collar, further giving shadow to it's face. It also wears a large, conical hat with a wide brim. It's features are totally hidden, save for the glowing eyes which nervously dart back and forth. A belt is secured around the hat, above the brim, to fasten the over-sized hat to it's masters head. How do you approach your party of adventurers?

Okay, let's set things straight. I don't have amnesia, magical or otherwise. That's how these hero story things start, right? Well, I'm no hero either; I'm a minion. You could call me a demon, lizardman, imp, or gremlin, but if you're polite you'll call me Zap. I don't know the technicalities of it and don't care either, but I think I'm some sort of subspecies of gremlins or imps, but that ain't important. I just don't feel like spilling my past out on the first page. So yeah, you can tell I survived my later detailed adventures if I wrote all this, right? Sorry, gets way more complicated than that. I suppose we should go to the start, with dear old Mr. Grayson, or as the defeated called him, the Seventh Overlord. So, all our tribes got split up, and usually us Blue Healers are free pickings for over-ambitious birds or mega frog...things? But our ability to restore life to the dying or very recently dead balances out our fragile nature. You see, this is one of the few things I know well. For lack of a better, scientific name, like imp or gremlin, because getting it wrong might offend some people, gremlins- whatever. Let's just call us minions. Everyone already does that. Well, we can heal and seal. What does that mean? We can take your soul, slowly drifting from it's body, slap it in the face, shout at it, and shove it back in your cooling body. Then we heal whatever is causing you to die, and there you go, good as new. Since we die so easily, it's good to have that ability in our species. Most other minions don't deal in magic, so they're much more hardy. Like Stench, he's a Green and thus immune to poison, but this makes alcohol little more than water for him. Or water with fruit juices. Damn it, I always get distracted. The point is, the Brown Fighters, who I like to call bone headed weapon whirlers, lent us a "squad" of thirteen Browns. Those guys can wrestle wolves and lions together and not get a scratch on their muscles. You could sharpen a sword on their sergeant's teeth, but he'd probably shove your own arm through your appendix in return. Want to know why it's important our tribe got the protection of these muscle-maniacs? I finally got some free time. To me, that was a foreign concept, and I explored it. Eating slowly, napping, reading, napping, just...swimming! And not in fear from a giant hydra either, just regular swimming! With protective "fire teams", I spent less time reviving dolts who wandered into a sheep pen and more being my own...minion. I promise, this is going somewhere. So, I was scouting this path with Corporal Gloob...yeah, the Browns like to organize. Us Blues organize too, but they're more...ultra organized. No matter how mixed up their platoons are, they always manage to shape up into individual squads and fire teams. Even when you throw in different sub species, we get ranks and placements. But when we form up with Browns, they tend to assign us something low level. I'm a little late on this warning, but I tend to wander in my storytelling. And everything really. Gloob used to say I'm just slow, but I'm not. I just focus on everything at once. So, me and the Corp were scouting this path to find a new home for the Blues and our protection, but we found something entirely else. Usually this is where the hero with memory loss finds something that strikes him familiar, right? Like his magical weapon, nun-chucks or glowing sword, or maybe even an apparent ally/friend, eh? Well, sorta close, I guess. This guy was a living magical weapon. And I don't mean a golem either. No hebrew life prayers, and he wasn't made of clay. No, this was something that churned my gut, made me gulp, and could possibly mean an end to my free time completely. This guy was...a hero. I could tell right then, as I stepped back from the wounded hero I gave him a good look. Ramshackle armor, runic giant axe in his loose fist; the eyes of a destined bloodline hero tend to glow brightly, like a flaming torch, when they cast magic or are just real pissed. His eyes were closed as far as I could see. He had this big 'ol helmet over his head. A hero is bad news for minions like me, almost all the time. Either option A, they attack us minions on sight assuming we're "dastardly, evil spawn of hell, who deserve a good thinning of numbers!" (And believe me, I'll tell you about that later.) or option B, in my opinion worse than A. The hero turns out to be a bloodline Overlord and takes command of us. They can be good or evil, but almost always they end up taking over the land surrounding their start-off territory. Sadly, for us minions, many past Overlords just sweep us forward in a tide of leathery flesh and scavenged weapons. So, while Gloob poked him with a stick, I considered my options. We could jump him while he was down and steal his gear, maybe sell it in that human town nearby. Or we could help him and hope for the best. As I flinched at my own thoughts, my face took on a "wandering" expression, as Gloob called it, and I realized my third and safest option. I could just leave him. I could abandon this ticking magical time bomb the Corporal was so intent on poking to anger. We could continue our mission, find a nice wetlands to set up in. But this is where my conscience stabbed me in the back with a guilt dagger. No, a guilt...claymore. This warrior had a big 'ole gash in his guts. And at this stage, no human or Keidran could heal him without killing themselves. But me, I could. I looked at my webbed claws, pondering this newfound feeling of guilt. Should I really give up our secret existence in Mekkan for one stranger? Us healin' minions can help a bloke if he's still mostly in one piece, and no pieces were missing as far as I could tell. But whatever did the slash was crude in design, and poisoned. Maybe stone, used by a Keidran? Made more sense, those beast people were attacking humans randomly more and more often. But that was no problem to me, he just had one wound in his torso. I could still save him, in fact, he might just be a town guard! He might not even be a hero, just a guard...a really big guard...that didn't look anything like Templar. His soul was an inferno of power, definitely a hero. Damn. Damn. Damnity darn damn! Us minions, we were new to this Mekkan place. But hero or not, this oaf would owe me. Yeah, good excuse, right? I shoved the Corporal aside and struggled to force the confused soul back into it's body. Then I plunged my claws in his gut slash and the blue sparks flew out, healing and knitting things up, even vaporizing some dirt on his large intestine. I just about finished when the brute started throttling me. See? What'd I just tell you? Save a hero, get choked to death, real heroic gratitude. The Hero's eyes popped open. They weren't bright due to his almost dying, but glowed like embers, or coals. As he started throttling me, good Corporal Gloob started stabbing the choking arm. When his eyes opened, he stopped wringing my neck to knock Gloob into a nearby tree. I went and healed the stabs, almost without thinking. At that, he released me. So, a grateful hero? Well...first time for anything, I suppose.

Well, I also enjoy Fallout, Warhammer, Doctor Who, and rock an' roll. I got some great ideas to spread, I'm a writer as well. I'm hoping the community will give me feedback on writing that is not pony related?