Bonkle

It's a sudden appearance of a few spambots. "Tightening the rules" isn't going to stop spambots from signing up and ignoring the rules they can't read. It happens on every forum on the internet from time to time.

I wasn't sold on Super Character until he said he could play the guitar. I like a well-rounded individual like that.

^This! Love the way my character has been portrayed, I hope he was doing a good job in the maint. hall 03.

How will Gangster Tahu's appearance affect the Windows Media Player skins economy?

Absolutely top tier. Keep it up.

I got a Brutaka last spring missing a few parts and spent the summer hemming and hawing over the various $6 tube listings and ended up skipping, really regretting it now, lol.

This is incredible, wow. Thought it was a photograph at first glance.

Hello all, hopping back in after a very amateurish stint years ago. We'll see where this goes I guess

IC - Degrees of Uncertainty (Kultax; staggering through Nokama Port) It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. How are you? I hope you’re well. I’m beginning to have to accept that something is hopelessly wrong. I feel like a statue. Like someone cut my nose off. I think you told me once that everything is a cycle. I think this was meant to be comforting, that an end is also a beginning. Right now I think that it means every moment is indistinguishable from any other given enough time. I’m not sure where in the cycle I am right now. I’m not sure it matters. I wish I could remember your name.

An attempt will be made Name: Kultax Species: Toa of Air Gender: Male Description: Average height for a Toa, with an athletic build hindered by somewhat bulky armor. An aura of confused misery radiates from the man. Shambles along in scarred and pitted armor that was once a bright green, but has in turn been bleached by the sun and covered in a veneer of soot and dirt and grime, now somewhere between the shades of dying grass and the pale yellow that marks some dawns. Dark rings are a permanent fixture around his watery and glazed blue eyes. His Arthron is missing one of its fins and a section of the "mouth", exposing part of his own tired frown. Notably, while it is a much deeper shade of green than his armor ever was, it is visibly colorful and likely not as old as the rest of his equipment. Powers & weapons: Control over air and the winds. Wears a Kanohi Arthron and carries a broadsword. It once glowed a fierce blue when in use, but has lost its luster. Weaknesses: Paranoid, distrustful, insomniac, borderline delusional. A poor fighter who has come to rely too heavily on his mask and elemental abilities. Alignment: True neutral. History: Kultax was once one of those rare souls who drew pleasure from simply being alive. He made friends everywhere he went and was always willing to give anyone a chance. He nursed not-so-private dreams of being a great hero and was perhaps far too willing to put his life on the line to help others. Being a heedless fool, even a well-intentioned one, rarely ends well, though. Kultax's nearsightedness meant that he inevitably brought a few wolves in with the sheep, and even created some enemies out of genuine allies. The enthusiasm started to become an act of denial more than anything real, and he only grew more stubborn as the persona slipped. After turning away many long-time friends, his self-destructive behavior culminated spectacularly in an incident where he deliberately trusted a very dangerous individual to spite the instincts and wishes of a team he'd found work with. When this person inevitably turned on him, so too did his team, leaving him for dead after the explosive battle he had to fight alone. Broken physically and mentally, and no longer able to lie to himself about what he or the world were like, he became an aimless wanderer, just waiting for something to happen to him. Personality and traits: Paranoid, distrustful, insomniac, borderline delusional. Kultax treats most situations as one who is aware they're in a dream but can do nothing to affect it would. While not overtly hostile, he has a very hard time taking anyone at their word and will react with suspicion and a cold disposition. At the same time, he is an open book; everyone else is just as aware of his intentions and desires as he is, which is to say, not at all. Perhaps buried somewhere is a glimmer of the bright-eyed optimist he once was, but in what ways this manifests remain a mystery.

The fact that I do not and have never had the urge to be a completionist in any way and just buy and MOC the small handful of things I really like.

A mushroom prepared for the harsh realities of winter.

Did Rock Raiders, Spyrius, Bionicle. Lack of UFO and Insectoids hurts the heart

Your holy grail is whatever you want the most. There is no "should".

Once something is close enough to pass through the skin, it enters the black hole in your chest that formed from the self-destructive weight of the questions that are at the end of their lives, as old as anyone has ever been, but also just as young as you. "Who am I?" "What is the meaning of life?" which invariably means, "what is the meaning of my life?" It is said to teach is to learn. How can you teach something only you will ever truly understand? With that in mind, how can you ever truly learn what you know? Suppose you are trying to describe a friend to someone else. You can use the words most of us would use; loyal, kind, funny (for some of them). You could very well go far, far beyond that. But what that friend is to you is something that can never be articulated fully because no one else is you. To anyone else that friend is just another person, or perhaps their friend, not yours. Once something is a part of you, you can only be and feel it, never know it, because the black hole questions will never stop sucking you in. I can describe my childhood home to you, can draw a blueprint for you. I can tell you that my room was blue and had a window looking out on the street, and right outside was the staircase that led down to the front door. I can even tell you how that scared me as a child because on nights when I couldn't get to sleep and heard things going bump I'd imagine some axe-wielding madman would kick in the door and come right up and chop me to bits first. But I can never make you understand what it was to me, what it was to live there. It's in my bones, not my head. If I break off a piece of me and give it to you, it will wither and die. I could, however, tell you in no uncertain terms what the home of someone I know is. I might not remember how many chairs are around the kitchen table or what color the walls are, but I could tell you what it's like to be there, what's on the air. How it feels in that house. That place is nowhere near the event horizon. This trick works for people, too, and the further they are from you the sharper the image is. I can tell you more about a stranger passing on the street from the way they walk, how they carry themselves. What they wear and how they speak, what's in their eyes. Do they grimace or just roll their eyes when they step in that puddle? When I look at my dearest friends the lens is blurry with love and years of memory. The woman opposite me in the waiting room is a neon sign. We grasp and flail through our lives and anything we manage to grab ahold of is brought in close, too close, lost and kept forever. You will never stop asking who you are, but people on distant and lonely planets of their own are putting together the puzzle of you. The further from your reach they are, the bigger the piece they've got. You may stumble through darkness, but know that in the telescopes of unseen strangers, in untarnished clarity, the real you burns.

Sold The 1st Shadow some figures, great guy to deal with. Paid promptly once we worked out a deal and was very friendly and communicative throughout.

I'm not up to date on the drama nor do I care to be but "we don't stand with her, though we'll continue to profit off of her works because it's convenient for us" is a lame response regardless of where one "should" fall on this issue. Grow a spine.