A Literary Tour of Kughii's Mind

Welcome to the Ga-Koro Marines faction page
 
Hello everyone, Kughii here supporting this blog page and updating as needed to give a correct and current look at the faction's structure, members (with wiki or profile links), tactics, and history (when needed).
 
 
Alright. Lets talk GA koro marines faction.
 
Current incorporated PCs:
 
Captain Iraira
Voutok
Suran
Bane of No Isles' character(s)
Legolover 360's character
Rallin
Mussiki
Possible divisions (suggest better names.)
 
Mariners (protects coastline and ocean by vessel)
Coastals (protects beach)
Sentries (protect city itself)
Merfolk (cover operative unit)
 
suggested ranking system:
Captain
Lieutenant(s)
Sergeants
Privates
Recruits/Rookies

Reboot (noun)
 
An act of turning off and restarting a computer system.
 
Something that has been restarted or revived.
 
A vanguard of sunlight broke through the shutters, yellow warmth casting itself across the bed.  Reinforcements crashed through in the shouting of merchants and artisans preparing their stalls for the rush of expected business. Warm sheets were pulled back sloppily, the comforter half-strewn across the wooden floor.  A glass pill bottle on the nightstand spun in slow circles, casting rainbows of light on the faded ceiling.  One of its occupants tumbled off, only to be crunched underfoot in the a sound of grinding powder.  Floorboards showed their age in meloncholy groans with each sleepy footstep the red and orange toa took towards the door.  In the closet were piles of T-shirts.  So many T-shirts they pooled out like an ameba searching for assimilants, swallowing up the rest of the room except for where a small footpath held them at bay.  Walking down the stairs to the main floor, she leaned heavily against the wall for support, a single hand held tightly across her face. 
 
The living room wasn't much better.  Last night's dinner was fermenting in the pottery vase by the foot of the stairs, its to-go boxes stacked on the coffee table like a mini-pagoda to the Great Being of fast-food BBQ.  
 
"Uag.  Head,"  She groaned before flopping into the couch face down, sending dust billowing into the light from the downstairs window.  Exhaling, the toa let out a whining sigh and rolled around to stare at the ceiling.  Her dream crawled back slowly as she made shapes out of the paint job. 
 
"Anja that brakas..."
 
---
 
Sometime after, here was a knock at the door.  She blinked slightly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. A client today?  Not moving an inch, she yelled out in the post-intoxication spree of her night off; "I don't got no customers today!  Go on and skat.  Come back during business hours!"  
 
There was a pause.
 
"Fraxn now don't be bashin," An all to familiar voice rapped.
 
He'd come back.

Hello all!  
 
I'm in a grand debate with myself right now.  Should I begin to write a Bionicle epic?  I would LOVE some thoughts on this idea.  Also, I would be writing from the perspective of one of my current RPG characters, probably flushing out their backstory and time out of the game.  Please leave a suggested character, as well as your thoughts on an epic by Kughii.
 
Oh, almost forgot, what GENRE would you like to see?
 
--Kughz

See the Comments section for the REAL discussion of what's going on, but here's my information up top.
 
"IRL is an incredible MMO."
 
Some people complain about lag, occasional poor visuals (a problem I have with the graphics myself, but in-game items helped), a corrupt currency system, etc...  However, my Player Character is absolutely fabulous, thanks to the incredible multi-skill sets and infinite class combo systems.  
 
I'm a warrior specializing in tactics and I've been able to ramp up on feats for sword, dual sword, knives, and spear, learning axes and exotic weapon skills, as well as gardening, sewing, writing, and home ec.  Being a bard as a secondary class really helped since I got to learn music beyond simple singing and now have the "composer" specialty class unlocked, as well as "saxophonist."  
 
What are you?
 

Well I'll be a Ga-matoran--

I actually DID come back to the party.  

This blog is now reopened with the celebration of my purchase of lifetime premier!!!  I look forward to a grand celebration of writing, music, comedy, and general Bionicle artistry.  I will attempt to insert purple prose, the moving lines of literature often attributed, as is the case in many old English novels, of causing the reader, a young, quizzical being with a passion for plastic toys, to fall into a brainless stupor and in so doing eliminate my reader base AS OFTEN AS NEEDED.  As a blooming writer, my attempts at prose will vary very vivaciously.  

As for comments:  Please, no discrimination, hate-mail, or general slander.  This is a place to savor, critique, and otherwise help improve the fruits of my labor.   No writer got better without a stern reader-base.  

Thank you, in advance, for your rough appraisals of my works.

The world runs on time?  No, I don't think so.  The world runs on MONEY.  In reality, the world runs on neither time nor money, but on it's own schedule of cycles, regardless of the "hour" or revolutions of the planet.  The Sun will come up each morning (unless you're living in the poles) and the moon will come out each night.  Somehow, humans have stuffed the magic of this world into a box.  This box has no detailed facets.  It's just a box.

This box has a sticker on the top with a sign that reads; "money."

Somewhere, someone ships "the box" to someone else.  That person then ships to another person.  Everyone touches the box.  Everyone opens it, looks inside, closes the lid, tapes it back up, then ships it to the next person.  No one touches the contents.  Everyone pays to see them. What makes the world go round?  The sights, or the passing of money?

If the world was what made the world go round, the box would sit open for all to see, people removing and replacing the contents in equal exchange.

Yet the world is sealed in its box.  People pass the box for money, hoarding the entirety of the world for their own amusement, but not touching for fear of lost "value."


What makes your world go round?

I made a connection in my mind many years ago when I played "Dress up" at a late friend's home: High heels = falling on face.  A few years ago I saw a woman walking down a city street in stilettos and made connection no. 2: tall heels do NOT equal sexy.  (Well, I made this connection back when I fell on my face, but that's another story...)  Somehow, women have decided heels are the wheels for trapping men.  Somehow, men are dumb enough to think the same.  Then again, when has the male portion of our race ever NOT been quixotically lacking in the brain cavity of the skull?


What do you think?  Again, trolling, flaming, hazing, razing, and ransacking my comments section is absolutely FINE, but on one condition: Use MUST leave a word and definition (plus form of speech), and you MUST be dramatic!

Okay, that was two reasons, but shoes come in pairs, right?

Sitting somewhere between reality and perplexity.  Wait, that was a fragment, right?  Let's try to fix that, shall we?  (Ugh.. this voice sounds terrible.)

Take TWO:

Sitting between the fixed perplexities of reality and the variable inconsequential laws of nature, I type frantically with no theme in mind.  I could gripe at my lack of readers, my inability of writing, or the fact homework makes the world look like an unwelcome plane of existence.  Ugh.  Go figure, I'm procrastinating. I spent the day speaking the same things other people spoke last year, answering questions last year's test takers answered, and am now about to perform the same math problems of my senior peers. Amazing how I am learning the same things as everyone else a year before me today. Tricky variables of my life; ridiculous fixed issues of my existence.  How fantastic.

TAKE THREE:

I'm not being very funny am I?

... No, but I DO smell coffee!  

Velcome to my Vorld!  Or, at least the confines of my boundless mind. Somewhere between the smells, sights, sounds, tastes, and fission reactions of creativity lays a golden gem of written language.  I attempt to tip toe quietly past that.  

If you have flaming criticism, trolling to perform, or other shananigans (spelling, who cares about shpealing?), please leave them in the comment section BELOW with a joke or new and interesting word (with definition and type of word -- adj, v, noun... -- thanks) attached.  I will feed off your literary inefficiencies as a zombie leeches off a brain.  In other words, your work will become--

--MINE.

This Journal is to act goofy, read goofy, and otherwise enjoy the public release of my literary constipation.  

Enjoy.
--Kughii