Vigor Mortis

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IC: VejmeqVejmeq addressed the one next to Nikaron, slightly raising a passive hand."Hello. I am Vejmeq, Toa of gravity."

Some sort of man who can't decide between black or white.

I think the perception of Death being an evil character stems from the very human fear of death. Evil things are thing we tend to fear, and this is also why darkness and such are also associated with being evil. For the majority of humanity, Death is the greatest fear of all. To cease to exist, to enter oblivion, and depending on your faith, not knowing what afterlife greets you.I for one would write of Death the way Terry Pratchett did: all he does is do his job. He doesn't kill anyone, he just arrives when they die and guides them off to whatever fate the gods have chosen for them.

An ad for a comic series. With your standard generic evil character.Followed by an alarmist quote of someone who is concerned that the LHC might destroy the world (despite the fact that such particle collisions occur billions of times each second inside the sun and throughout the universe, without ill effect).

Terribly Egocentric and Narcissistic.

Its an MSPA addict. Run for your lives.Ninja'dA terrible 404 joke.

Terry Pratchett is the Douglas Adams of Fantasy, to put it simply.The first book is called The Colour of Magic, if you are interested. It centers around the adventures of Rincewind, an incompetent wizard that knows only a single spell, and Twoflower, an incredulous tourist from the Counterweight Continent. The entire world is a flat disc, held upon the backs of four titanic elephants, in turn on the back of Great A'tuin the space turtle.

Well Death is a big character in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, which is a satire of everything in fantasy. Whenever Death speaks, he does not use quotations and TALKS LIKE THIS. He is probably the one character you will laugh at the most in the books, although he is never a main character. He even refers to himself as an anthropomorphic personification.

Autumn Leaves - Bob Holroyd.Those strings man... those strings.

Hello. I write a little bit for fun, and for me it's a new thing in general. I take a creative writing class, and am a member of my school's Lit-mag (I am also the only male that is part of it). I like writing, mostly because I am interested in what sort of things I can come up with. I intend to have a career in science (specifically Cosmology), but for me this is a nice hobby.The things I think about are more... abstract, I suppose would be the word. I'm more interested in emotions in their most basic forms than distinct, clear, realistic fiction. Oh I think much can be learned in realistic and non-fiction, but my eye is turned to fantasy and science fiction. But the sorts of things I think of are not quite science fiction and somewhat fantasy, so in general I call what I think of fantasmafiction.One concept of mine is called Treasure the Obscure. The main characters are not in any way human nor humanoid in form: they are condensed clouds of gas that evolved inside a dense Nebula. The only characteristic we can connect with is that they each have a single, luminous eye for seeing and have various "opposadendrites" that they use to manipulate objects with. Their names are not in any way human either, and go like Red who is Ponderous or White who is Curious. Each has a certain color of their bodies, and has an adjective attached to them that stems from what they choose as their death-quest. This is basically what they want to do with their lives after their biological purpose, having children, until they die. Some choose to go out and explore the Nebula, others wish to teach the young, and so on. Anyway, the story focuses on a single one of these entities that by mere chance and coincidence has the ability to hear radio waves. He does this for some time, until he hears something very peculiar. He hears the radio transmissions that came from earth thousands of years ago, and so the entirety of the book is based on him and others trying to understand humanity and why we do what we do. I came up with this because I wanted to see if I could try to understand humans from a non-human perspective, a sort of reflection on humanity.Another, distinctively more fantasy-esque, is what I call Dustworld. The entire world is a vast, unending flat desert that is constantly expanding over the Skin of Reality - the very bottom of the physical world. The great winds blow the dust ever outward, and dust periodically falls from the sky like rain. Everything in the world is made of dust, including all living things. There is, of course, rock and stone (very compacted dust). There is not one sun but hundreds, that roam the skies in unpredictable patterns, literally flying a hundred miles above the world. In this way night and day are unpredictable, and since each sun is a different color and of different luminosity you will always see a different sunrise and sunset. I have not developed this idea much, but I am thinking that some great event happens where humans find a way into the Dustworld.I have wrote a small bit of poetry too, but nothing worth mentioning. As for character development (since that is the subject being discussed now), I try to focus on a set of behaviors and predispositions that I want a certain character to have. Once I have these, I literally explain exactly why they have these traits by writing down their entire life histories. You never have to display this to the readers, it is simply for you so you can always have a very detailed picture of the sort of mind you have put into your character.

IC: VejmeqVejmeq nodded."I will accompany you. No doubt you will have need of me."

IC: Isiak"They do view Makuta as evil, yes, but they regard him and his minions almost as if neither of us will ever overcome the other. Rahi raids have been picking up quite a bit recently, and it appears as though Makuta is poised to strike us down. There is fear, but not enough fear to unite, and there is also too much, for now we distrust many of the strangers that wash up on our shores.

IC: Isiak"Doubtless Makuta has extended his powers far beyond what he possessed a hundred years ago, though. We lack unity, structure, organization, to mobilize such vast numbers of Toa in the first place. I would not really call it inches away. This is why we are here for Taipu: any information he can give us can lead us back to Takua, and then perhaps to the fate of the Mata."

OOC: I think the same, but we will have to do our best without that 2001 feeling. At least the BZRPG is set in Mata Nui.IC: Isiak"Well it wasn't quite a nova blast, by the standard qualifications. I don't know, I just... fizzled out. As for Taipu, allow me to explain."Isiak hefted up his violin and placed aside his dagger-pointed staff."Certainly you know the tale of the Toa Mata and their disappearance for a hundred years."He struck a long note with the bow, pulling it softly against the chords."The Chronicler's Company were six Matoran that fought at the battle at Kini-Nui while the Mata entered to fight Makuta. Needless to say, they did not come back out. Their importance is that they were the last people on the island to see the Chronicler himself, Takua. If Takua could be found, some insight as to the fate of the Toa Mata could be given. I have also heard rumors that the six may know something besides what transpired at the battle, though I am at a loss as to what."Isiak pulled the bow back and forth twice, before steadily straightening it out to make a long oscillating whine."Taipu is one of the Chronicler's Company. And so we are here now, waiting."

IC: Isiak"I don't know. A cave-in was about to happen, which would have killed several dozen had I not pushed my powers far beyond what I had ever used before. I saved them, and awoke as I am now."

OOC: Thank you.IC: IsiakBeat-five, one. One two-one.Isiak nodded solemnly. "You are still a Toa, and have much time to find what is there for you, what you shall do to protect and be just. I am finished."Beat-five, one. One two-one."I was a just Toa. I protected and saved many. Yet I was not there to save my fellow Toa friends. They died in the siege of Ta-Koro, some decades ago. Do you know where I was? I was a protective escort in a ship that was leaving Ta-Koro to send goods to Ga-Koro. The sailing was as sweet as bright red fruit, the sea as peaceful as the plains. I idled and sat back, and I lost all of them."Beat-five, one. One two-one."And here I am now. Withered, songless, waiting. Don't cast yourself away for past ignorance. Don't become me."

IC: Isiak"We have no way of knowing if someone is inside right now. We can't just barge in also, I know my brother Whenua would not appreciate such a thing. We wait for a sign."With that, he grunted as he bent his thin arm behind his back, and Isiak pulled out his precious violin. He peered at its pale wood, its sleek form, the strings that were as tight as the day he fastened them. On occasion it became damaged, a scrape one day and a chip the next. In such occasions, he would tirelessly spend weeks repairing it to perfection. The violin was him, he was the instrument.The violin was also his past, all of his misgivings and failures and triumphs and aspirations, all were entwined into the wood. It pained him to remember that there was a time when he could hear none of the song. Yet when he could now, Isiak found that he could not hear his own song.Did I deserve that Toa stone? Surely someone else could have done a far better job of saving the innocent and exacting justice. Oh I did help when I could, but the fact that I lived long enough to be a Turaga hinders all of that. They say a Toa becomes a Turaga when his destiny is finished. And so I am dead weight in this world, without a song of my own. I should have died by their sides. I abandoned you all. I am sorry, Qathek.These thoughts, so familiar to him, struck a new line of inquiry in Isiak's thought. Lowering his violin, he faced Shohu, and asked,"My friend, I am curious. What circumstances were you made into a Toa?"

IC: IsiakIsiak sighed a belated breath."Let's not have that again, my friend."As he listened for something to indicate if there was someone inside at all, Isiak was overcome by a sense of wrongness, that something was amiss.OOC: When you are ready, Tuck.

IC: IsiakIsiak and Shohu arrived in front of Taipu's house, attempting to peek a cursory glance through the windows, but were covered in shades."Here we are my friend, let us proceed."Isiak hobbled on his two weak legs and his staff to the door, and rapped the door several politely loud times."Hello? Is anyone home?"

IC: Isiak Upon hearing the Toa that shouted across the square, Isiak made to walk past him. Just as he was about to pass the Toa, Isiak slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, amplifying the sound greatly using his own meager sonic powers great enough to cause ringing in the ears. Before the sound could escape, he made it much quieter, so that only he and the Toa heard it. "You are in the part that cares not for loud strangers, which coincidentally is all of Onu-Koro."

IC: Vejmeq Vejmeq stood stoic during the conversation, unmoving and passive. Nikaron turned to ask another Toa something, and so Vejmeq decided to speak with the Toa. In words as plain as virgin paper, he said "I am Vejmeq, Toa of Gravity. You have met my companion Nikaron."

Go for it.

OOC: Yeah I saw that, but you asked anyway, and so I am going to RP us leaving. IC: Isiak Despite the large echoes and wretched clanging that Shohu had made, no voice Matoran or otherwise answered it. For all intents and purposes, it was empty. It would appear that no one is present. Perhaps we should go to his hut, and see if Taipu is there. I suppose we should have thought of that first, rather than come here.

You may add it. However, if you wish to expand it, I shall expand it myself. As for modifying it, tell me what you would want modified. Well really the custom part of that would be 'sonic the hedgehog heads', so yes I suppose.