Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'epic'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Announcements & Administration
    • Reference Desk
    • BZPower Q&A
    • BZPower.com News Discussion
  • LEGO Discussion
    • Bionicle Discussion
    • Bionicle Storyline & Theories
    • Ninjago Discussion
    • Hero Factory Discussion
    • LEGO Discussion
  • Creative Outlet
    • LEGO-Based Creations
    • Library
    • Artwork
    • Games & More
  • BZPower Discussion
    • General Discussion
    • Convention & Event Planning
    • BioniLUG Discussion
    • Buy/Sell/Trade
  • Affiliates
    • BS01/HS01
  • Non-LEGO Forums
    • Completely Off Topic
    • Off Topic Culture

Blogs

  • blogs_blog_1
  • blogs_blog_2
  • Bio of a BZP Admin
  • blogs_blog_4
  • blogs_blog_5
  • blogs_blog_6
  • What You Want Is Now
  • blogs_blog_8
  • blogs_blog_9
  • blogs_blog_10
  • blogs_blog_11
  • blogs_blog_12
  • blogs_blog_13
  • blogs_blog_14
  • blogs_blog_15
  • blogs_blog_17
  • blogs_blog_18
  • blogs_blog_19
  • blogs_blog_20
  • blogs_blog_21
  • blogs_blog_22
  • blogs_blog_23
  • Akano's Blog
  • blogs_blog_25
  • blogs_blog_26
  • blogs_blog_27
  • blogs_blog_28
  • blogs_blog_29
  • Wind's Weblog
  • blogs_blog_31
  • blogs_blog_32
  • blogs_blog_34
  • blogs_blog_35
  • blogs_blog_36
  • blogs_blog_37
  • It's a Blog
  • blogs_blog_39
  • blogs_blog_40
  • blogs_blog_41
  • blogs_blog_42
  • blogs_blog_43
  • blogs_blog_44
  • Star Blogging across the universe
  • blogs_blog_46
  • blogs_blog_47
  • Time Capsule of Teenage Musings
  • blogs_blog_49
  • blogs_blog_50
  • blogs_blog_51
  • blogs_blog_52
  • Toaraga's Toa-Bloga
  • blogs_blog_54
  • blogs_blog_55
  • blogs_blog_56
  • blogs_blog_57
  • blogs_blog_58
  • blogs_blog_59
  • blogs_blog_60
  • why isn't this blog so wide
  • blogs_blog_62
  • J.A.F. Team
  • blogs_blog_64
  • blogs_blog_65
  • blogs_blog_66
  • Bloghaku
  • blogs_blog_68
  • blogs_blog_69
  • blogs_blog_70
  • blogs_blog_71
  • blogs_blog_72
  • blogs_blog_73
  • blogs_blog_74
  • wrinkledlion's blog
  • blogs_blog_76
  • Lavender Blog
  • blogs_blog_79
  • blogs_blog_80
  • blogs_blog_81
  • blogs_blog_82
  • blogs_blog_83
  • blogs_blog_84
  • blogs_blog_85
  • blogs_blog_86
  • blogs_blog_87
  • blogs_blog_88
  • blogs_blog_89
  • Mount Coronet
  • blogs_blog_91
  • blogs_blog_92
  • blogs_blog_93
  • blogs_blog_94
  • blogs_blog_95
  • blogs_blog_96
  • blogs_blog_97
  • blogs_blog_98
  • blogs_blog_99
  • blogs_blog_100
  • blogs_blog_101
  • blogs_blog_102
  • blogs_blog_103
  • blogs_blog_104
  • blogs_blog_105
  • blogs_blog_106
  • blogs_blog_107
  • blogs_blog_108
  • blogs_blog_109
  • blogs_blog_110
  • blogs_blog_111
  • blogs_blog_112
  • blogs_blog_113
  • blogs_blog_114
  • blogs_blog_115
  • blogs_blog_116
  • blogs_blog_117
  • blogs_blog_118
  • blogs_blog_119
  • blogs_blog_120
  • blogs_blog_121
  • blogs_blog_122
  • blogs_blog_123
  • blogs_blog_124
  • blogs_blog_125
  • blogs_blog_126
  • stuff
  • BIONICLE Ain't Dead to Me
  • TMD's Creatively Named Blog
  • blogs_blog_130
  • blogs_blog_131
  • blogs_blog_132
  • blogs_blog_133
  • blogs_blog_134
  • blogs_blog_135
  • blogs_blog_136
  • blogs_blog_137
  • blogs_blog_138
  • blogs_blog_139
  • blogs_blog_140
  • blogs_blog_141
  • blogs_blog_142
  • blogs_blog_143
  • blogs_blog_144
  • blogs_blog_145
  • blogs_blog_146
  • blogs_blog_147
  • blogs_blog_148
  • blogs_blog_149
  • blogs_blog_150
  • blogs_blog_151
  • blogs_blog_152
  • blogs_blog_153
  • blogs_blog_154
  • blogs_blog_155
  • blogs_blog_156
  • blogs_blog_157
  • blogs_blog_158
  • blogs_blog_159
  • blogs_blog_160
  • blogs_blog_161
  • blogs_blog_162
  • blogs_blog_163
  • blogs_blog_164
  • blogs_blog_165
  • blogs_blog_166
  • blogs_blog_167
  • blogs_blog_168
  • blogs_blog_169
  • blogs_blog_170
  • blogs_blog_171
  • blogs_blog_172
  • blogs_blog_173
  • blogs_blog_174
  • blogs_blog_175
  • blogs_blog_176
  • blogs_blog_177
  • blogs_blog_178
  • blogs_blog_179
  • blogs_blog_180
  • blogs_blog_181
  • blogs_blog_182
  • blogs_blog_183
  • blogs_blog_184
  • blogs_blog_185
  • blogs_blog_186
  • blogs_blog_188
  • blogs_blog_189
  • blogs_blog_190
  • blogs_blog_191
  • blogs_blog_192
  • blogs_blog_193
  • blogs_blog_194
  • blogs_blog_195
  • blogs_blog_196
  • blogs_blog_197
  • blogs_blog_198
  • blogs_blog_199
  • blogs_blog_200
  • blogs_blog_201
  • blogs_blog_202
  • blogs_blog_203
  • blogs_blog_204
  • blogs_blog_205
  • blogs_blog_206
  • blogs_blog_207
  • blogs_blog_208
  • blogs_blog_209
  • blogs_blog_210
  • blogs_blog_211
  • blogs_blog_212
  • blogs_blog_213
  • blogs_blog_214
  • blogs_blog_215
  • blogs_blog_216
  • blogs_blog_217
  • blogs_blog_218
  • blogs_blog_219
  • blogs_blog_220
  • blogs_blog_221
  • blogs_blog_222
  • The Minimalist
  • blogs_blog_224
  • blogs_blog_225
  • blogs_blog_226
  • blogs_blog_227
  • blogs_blog_228
  • blogs_blog_229
  • blogs_blog_230
  • blogs_blog_231
  • blogs_blog_232
  • blogs_blog_233
  • blogs_blog_234
  • blogs_blog_235
  • blogs_blog_236
  • blogs_blog_237
  • blogs_blog_238
  • blogs_blog_239
  • blogs_blog_240
  • blogs_blog_241
  • blogs_blog_242
  • blogs_blog_243
  • blogs_blog_244
  • blogs_blog_245
  • blogs_blog_246
  • blogs_blog_247
  • blogs_blog_248
  • blogs_blog_249
  • Tales of Arizona Blue
  • blogs_blog_251
  • blogs_blog_252
  • blogs_blog_253
  • blogs_blog_254
  • blogs_blog_255
  • blogs_blog_256
  • blogs_blog_257
  • blogs_blog_258
  • blogs_blog_259
  • blogs_blog_260
  • blogs_blog_261
  • blogs_blog_262
  • Blog. BLOG! BLOOOOOOG!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • blogs_blog_264
  • blogs_blog_265
  • blogs_blog_266
  • blogs_blog_267
  • blogs_blog_268
  • blogs_blog_269
  • blogs_blog_270
  • blogs_blog_271
  • blogs_blog_272
  • blogs_blog_273
  • blogs_blog_274
  • blogs_blog_275
  • blogs_blog_276
  • blogs_blog_277
  • blogs_blog_278
  • blogs_blog_279
  • blogs_blog_280
  • blogs_blog_281
  • blogs_blog_282
  • blogs_blog_283
  • blogs_blog_284
  • blogs_blog_285
  • blogs_blog_286
  • blogs_blog_287
  • blogs_blog_288
  • blogs_blog_289
  • blogs_blog_290
  • blogs_blog_291
  • blogs_blog_292
  • blogs_blog_293
  • blogs_blog_294
  • blogs_blog_295
  • blogs_blog_296
  • blogs_blog_297
  • blogs_blog_298
  • blogs_blog_299
  • blogs_blog_300
  • blogs_blog_302
  • blogs_blog_303
  • blogs_blog_304
  • blogs_blog_305
  • blogs_blog_306
  • blogs_blog_307
  • The Serpent's Den
  • blogs_blog_309
  • blogs_blog_310
  • blogs_blog_311
  • blogs_blog_312
  • blogs_blog_313
  • blogs_blog_314
  • blogs_blog_315
  • blogs_blog_316
  • blogs_blog_317
  • blogs_blog_318
  • blogs_blog_319
  • blogs_blog_320
  • blogs_blog_321
  • blogs_blog_322
  • blogs_blog_323
  • blogs_blog_324
  • blogs_blog_325
  • blogs_blog_326
  • blogs_blog_327
  • blogs_blog_328
  • blogs_blog_329
  • blogs_blog_330
  • blogs_blog_331
  • blogs_blog_332
  • blogs_blog_333
  • blogs_blog_334
  • blogs_blog_335
  • blogs_blog_336
  • blogs_blog_337
  • blogs_blog_338
  • blogs_blog_339
  • blogs_blog_340
  • blogs_blog_341
  • blogs_blog_342
  • blogs_blog_343
  • blogs_blog_344
  • blogs_blog_345
  • blogs_blog_346
  • blogs_blog_347
  • blogs_blog_348
  • blogs_blog_349
  • blogs_blog_351
  • blogs_blog_352
  • blogs_blog_353
  • blogs_blog_354
  • blogs_blog_355
  • blogs_blog_356
  • blogs_blog_357
  • blogs_blog_358
  • blogs_blog_359
  • blogs_blog_360
  • blogs_blog_362
  • blogs_blog_363
  • blogs_blog_364
  • blogs_blog_365
  • blogs_blog_366
  • blogs_blog_367
  • blogs_blog_368
  • blogs_blog_369
  • blogs_blog_370
  • blogs_blog_371
  • blogs_blog_372
  • blogs_blog_373
  • blogs_blog_374
  • blogs_blog_375
  • blogs_blog_376
  • blogs_blog_377
  • blogs_blog_378
  • blogs_blog_379
  • blogs_blog_380
  • blogs_blog_381
  • blogs_blog_382
  • blogs_blog_384
  • blogs_blog_385
  • blogs_blog_386
  • blogs_blog_387
  • blogs_blog_388
  • blogs_blog_389
  • blogs_blog_390
  • blogs_blog_391
  • blogs_blog_392
  • blogs_blog_393
  • blogs_blog_394
  • blogs_blog_395
  • blogs_blog_396
  • blogs_blog_397
  • blogs_blog_398
  • blogs_blog_399
  • blogs_blog_400
  • blogs_blog_401
  • blogs_blog_402
  • blogs_blog_403
  • blogs_blog_404
  • blogs_blog_405
  • blogs_blog_406
  • blogs_blog_407
  • blogs_blog_408
  • blogs_blog_409
  • blogs_blog_410
  • blogs_blog_411
  • blogs_blog_412
  • blogs_blog_413
  • blogs_blog_414
  • blogs_blog_415
  • blogs_blog_416
  • blogs_blog_417
  • blogs_blog_418
  • blogs_blog_419
  • blogs_blog_420
  • blogs_blog_421
  • blogs_blog_422
  • blogs_blog_423
  • blogs_blog_424
  • blogs_blog_425
  • blogs_blog_426
  • blogs_blog_427
  • blogs_blog_428
  • blogs_blog_429
  • blogs_blog_430
  • blogs_blog_431
  • blogs_blog_432
  • blogs_blog_433
  • blogs_blog_434
  • blogs_blog_435
  • blogs_blog_436
  • blogs_blog_437
  • blogs_blog_438
  • blogs_blog_439
  • blogs_blog_440
  • Disty's old surgery
  • blogs_blog_442
  • blogs_blog_443
  • blogs_blog_444
  • blogs_blog_445
  • blogs_blog_446
  • blogs_blog_447
  • V1P2's Blog
  • blogs_blog_449
  • blogs_blog_450
  • blogs_blog_451
  • blogs_blog_452
  • blogs_blog_453
  • blogs_blog_454
  • blogs_blog_455
  • blogs_blog_456
  • blogs_blog_457
  • blogs_blog_458
  • blogs_blog_459
  • blogs_blog_460
  • blogs_blog_461
  • blogs_blog_462
  • blogs_blog_463
  • blogs_blog_464
  • blogs_blog_465
  • blogs_blog_466
  • blogs_blog_467
  • blogs_blog_468
  • blogs_blog_469
  • blogs_blog_470
  • blogs_blog_471
  • blogs_blog_472
  • blogs_blog_473
  • blogs_blog_474
  • blogs_blog_475
  • blogs_blog_476
  • blogs_blog_477
  • blogs_blog_478
  • blogs_blog_479
  • blogs_blog_480
  • blogs_blog_481
  • blogs_blog_482
  • blogs_blog_483
  • blogs_blog_484
  • blogs_blog_485
  • blogs_blog_486
  • blogs_blog_487
  • blogs_blog_488
  • blogs_blog_489
  • blogs_blog_490
  • blogs_blog_491
  • blogs_blog_492
  • blogs_blog_493
  • blogs_blog_494
  • blogs_blog_495
  • blogs_blog_496
  • blogs_blog_497
  • blogs_blog_498
  • blogs_blog_499
  • blogs_blog_500
  • blogs_blog_501
  • I'm Me
  • blogs_blog_503
  • blogs_blog_504
  • blogs_blog_505
  • blogs_blog_506
  • blogs_blog_507
  • blogs_blog_508
  • blogs_blog_509
  • blogs_blog_510
  • blogs_blog_511
  • blogs_blog_512
  • blogs_blog_513
  • blogs_blog_514
  • blogs_blog_515
  • blogs_blog_516
  • blogs_blog_517
  • blogs_blog_518
  • blogs_blog_520
  • blogs_blog_521
  • blogs_blog_522
  • blogs_blog_523
  • blogs_blog_524
  • A Golden-Red Horizon
  • blogs_blog_526
  • null
  • blogs_blog_528
  • blogs_blog_529
  • Blogarithm
  • blogs_blog_531
  • blogs_blog_532
  • blogs_blog_533
  • The Blog Below
  • blogs_blog_535
  • blogs_blog_536
  • blogs_blog_537
  • blogs_blog_538
  • blogs_blog_539
  • blogs_blog_540
  • blogs_blog_541
  • blogs_blog_542
  • blogs_blog_543
  • blogs_blog_544
  • blogs_blog_545
  • blogs_blog_546
  • blogs_blog_547
  • blogs_blog_548
  • blogs_blog_549
  • blogs_blog_550
  • blogs_blog_551
  • blogs_blog_552
  • blogs_blog_553
  • blogs_blog_554
  • blogs_blog_555
  • blogs_blog_556
  • Moon in the Water
  • blogs_blog_558
  • blogs_blog_559
  • blogs_blog_560
  • blogs_blog_561
  • blogs_blog_562
  • blogs_blog_563
  • blogs_blog_564
  • blogs_blog_565
  • blogs_blog_566
  • blogs_blog_567
  • blogs_blog_568
  • blogs_blog_569
  • blogs_blog_570
  • blogs_blog_571
  • blogs_blog_572
  • blogs_blog_573
  • blogs_blog_574
  • blogs_blog_575
  • blogs_blog_576
  • blogs_blog_577
  • blogs_blog_578
  • blogs_blog_579
  • blogs_blog_580
  • blogs_blog_581
  • blogs_blog_582
  • blogs_blog_583
  • blogs_blog_584
  • blogs_blog_585
  • blogs_blog_586
  • blogs_blog_587
  • blogs_blog_588
  • SeiclonatorZ (the blog about nothing)
  • blogs_blog_590
  • the transgender adventure
  • blogs_blog_592
  • blogs_blog_593
  • blogs_blog_594
  • blogs_blog_595
  • blogs_blog_596
  • blogs_blog_597
  • blogs_blog_598
  • blogs_blog_599
  • blogs_blog_600
  • blogs_blog_601
  • blogs_blog_602
  • blogs_blog_603
  • blogs_blog_604
  • blogs_blog_605
  • blogs_blog_606
  • blogs_blog_607
  • blogs_blog_608
  • blogs_blog_609
  • blogs_blog_610
  • blogs_blog_611
  • blogs_blog_612
  • blogs_blog_613
  • blogs_blog_614
  • blogs_blog_615
  • blogs_blog_616
  • blogs_blog_617
  • blogs_blog_618
  • blogs_blog_619
  • blogs_blog_620
  • blogs_blog_621
  • blogs_blog_622
  • blogs_blog_623
  • city burials
  • blogs_blog_625
  • blogs_blog_626
  • blogs_blog_627
  • blogs_blog_629
  • blogs_blog_630
  • blogs_blog_631
  • blogs_blog_632
  • blogs_blog_635
  • blogs_blog_636
  • blogs_blog_637
  • blogs_blog_638
  • The Observatory
  • blogs_blog_640
  • blogs_blog_641
  • The Phylog 3.0
  • Apologies for Who I Was
  • blogs_blog_644
  • blogs_blog_645
  • blogs_blog_646
  • blogs_blog_647
  • blogs_blog_648
  • blogs_blog_649
  • blogs_blog_650
  • blogs_blog_651
  • blogs_blog_652
  • blogs_blog_653
  • blogs_blog_654
  • blogs_blog_655
  • blogs_blog_656
  • blogs_blog_657
  • blogs_blog_658
  • blogs_blog_659
  • blogs_blog_660
  • blogs_blog_661
  • blogs_blog_662
  • blogs_blog_663
  • blogs_blog_664
  • blogs_blog_665
  • blogs_blog_666
  • blogs_blog_667
  • blogs_blog_668
  • blogs_blog_669
  • blogs_blog_670
  • blogs_blog_671
  • blogs_blog_672
  • blogs_blog_673
  • blogs_blog_674
  • blogs_blog_675
  • blogs_blog_676
  • blogs_blog_677
  • blogs_blog_678
  • blogs_blog_679
  • blogs_blog_680
  • blogs_blog_681
  • blogs_blog_682
  • blogs_blog_683
  • blogs_blog_684
  • blogs_blog_685
  • blogs_blog_686
  • blogs_blog_687
  • blogs_blog_688
  • blogs_blog_689
  • blogs_blog_690
  • blogs_blog_691
  • blogs_blog_692
  • blogs_blog_693
  • blogs_blog_694
  • blogs_blog_695
  • blogs_blog_696
  • blogs_blog_697
  • blogs_blog_698
  • blogs_blog_699
  • blogs_blog_700
  • blogs_blog_701
  • blogs_blog_702
  • blogs_blog_703
  • blogs_blog_704
  • blogs_blog_705
  • blogs_blog_706
  • blogs_blog_707
  • blogs_blog_708
  • blogs_blog_709
  • blogs_blog_710
  • blogs_blog_711
  • blogs_blog_712
  • blogs_blog_713
  • blogs_blog_714
  • blogs_blog_715
  • blogs_blog_716
  • blogs_blog_717
  • blogs_blog_718
  • blogs_blog_719
  • blogs_blog_720
  • blogs_blog_721
  • blogs_blog_722
  • blogs_blog_723
  • blogs_blog_724
  • blogs_blog_725
  • blogs_blog_726
  • blogs_blog_727
  • blogs_blog_728
  • blogs_blog_729
  • blogs_blog_730
  • blogs_blog_731
  • in a hole in the ground, there lived a blog
  • blogs_blog_733
  • blogs_blog_734
  • blogs_blog_735
  • blogs_blog_736
  • blogs_blog_737
  • blogs_blog_738
  • blogs_blog_739
  • blogs_blog_740
  • blogs_blog_741
  • blogs_blog_742
  • blogs_blog_743
  • blogs_blog_744
  • blogs_blog_745
  • blogs_blog_746
  • blogs_blog_747
  • blogs_blog_748
  • blogs_blog_749
  • blogs_blog_750
  • blogs_blog_751
  • blogs_blog_752
  • blogs_blog_753
  • blogs_blog_754
  • blogs_blog_755
  • blogs_blog_756
  • blogs_blog_757
  • blogs_blog_758
  • blogs_blog_759
  • blogs_blog_760
  • blogs_blog_761
  • blogs_blog_762
  • blogs_blog_763
  • blogs_blog_764
  • blogs_blog_765
  • blogs_blog_766
  • blogs_blog_767
  • blogs_blog_768
  • blogs_blog_769
  • blogs_blog_770
  • blogs_blog_771
  • blogs_blog_772
  • blogs_blog_773
  • blogs_blog_774
  • blogs_blog_775
  • blogs_blog_776
  • blogs_blog_777
  • blogs_blog_778
  • blogs_blog_779
  • blogs_blog_780
  • blogs_blog_781
  • blogs_blog_782
  • blogs_blog_783
  • blogs_blog_784
  • blogs_blog_785
  • blogs_blog_786
  • blogs_blog_787
  • blogs_blog_788
  • blogs_blog_789
  • blogs_blog_790
  • blogs_blog_791
  • blogs_blog_792
  • blogs_blog_793
  • blogs_blog_794
  • blogs_blog_795
  • blogs_blog_796
  • blogs_blog_797
  • blogs_blog_798
  • blogs_blog_799
  • blogs_blog_800
  • blogs_blog_801
  • blogs_blog_802
  • blogs_blog_803
  • blogs_blog_804
  • blogs_blog_805
  • blogs_blog_806
  • blogs_blog_807
  • blogs_blog_808
  • blogs_blog_809
  • blogs_blog_810
  • blogs_blog_811
  • blogs_blog_812
  • blogs_blog_813
  • blogs_blog_814
  • blogs_blog_815
  • blogs_blog_816
  • blogs_blog_817
  • blogs_blog_818
  • blogs_blog_819
  • blogs_blog_820
  • blogs_blog_821
  • blogs_blog_822
  • blogs_blog_823
  • blogs_blog_824
  • blogs_blog_825
  • blogs_blog_826
  • blogs_blog_827
  • blogs_blog_828
  • blogs_blog_829
  • blogs_blog_830
  • blogs_blog_831
  • blogs_blog_832
  • blogs_blog_833
  • blogs_blog_834
  • blogs_blog_835
  • blogs_blog_836
  • blogs_blog_837
  • blogs_blog_838
  • blogs_blog_839
  • blogs_blog_840
  • blogs_blog_841
  • blogs_blog_842
  • blogs_blog_843
  • blogs_blog_844
  • blogs_blog_845
  • blogs_blog_846
  • blogs_blog_847
  • blogs_blog_848
  • blogs_blog_849
  • blogs_blog_850
  • blogs_blog_851
  • blogs_blog_852
  • blogs_blog_853
  • blogs_blog_854
  • blogs_blog_855
  • blogs_blog_856
  • blogs_blog_857
  • blogs_blog_858
  • blogs_blog_859
  • blogs_blog_860
  • blogs_blog_861
  • blogs_blog_862
  • blogs_blog_863
  • blogs_blog_864
  • blogs_blog_865
  • blogs_blog_866
  • blogs_blog_867
  • blogs_blog_868
  • blogs_blog_869
  • blogs_blog_870
  • blogs_blog_871
  • blogs_blog_872
  • blogs_blog_873
  • blogs_blog_874
  • blogs_blog_875
  • blogs_blog_876
  • blogs_blog_877
  • blogs_blog_878
  • blogs_blog_879
  • blogs_blog_880
  • blogs_blog_881
  • blogs_blog_882
  • blogs_blog_883
  • blogs_blog_884
  • blogs_blog_885
  • blogs_blog_886
  • blogs_blog_887
  • blogs_blog_888
  • blogs_blog_889
  • blogs_blog_890
  • blogs_blog_891
  • blogs_blog_892
  • blogs_blog_893
  • blogs_blog_894
  • blogs_blog_895
  • blogs_blog_896
  • blogs_blog_897
  • blogs_blog_898
  • blogs_blog_899
  • It's been real
  • blogs_blog_901
  • blogs_blog_902
  • blogs_blog_903
  • blogs_blog_904
  • blogs_blog_905
  • blogs_blog_906
  • blogs_blog_907
  • blogs_blog_908
  • blogs_blog_909
  • blogs_blog_910
  • blogs_blog_911
  • blogs_blog_912
  • blogs_blog_913
  • blogs_blog_914
  • blogs_blog_915
  • blogs_blog_916
  • blogs_blog_917
  • blogs_blog_918
  • blogs_blog_919
  • blogs_blog_920
  • blogs_blog_921
  • blogs_blog_922
  • blogs_blog_923
  • blogs_blog_924
  • blogs_blog_925
  • blogs_blog_926
  • blogs_blog_927
  • blogs_blog_928
  • blogs_blog_929
  • blogs_blog_930
  • blogs_blog_931
  • blogs_blog_932
  • blogs_blog_933
  • blogs_blog_934
  • blogs_blog_935
  • blogs_blog_936
  • blogs_blog_937
  • blogs_blog_938
  • blogs_blog_939
  • blogs_blog_940
  • blogs_blog_941
  • blogs_blog_942
  • blogs_blog_943
  • blogs_blog_944
  • blogs_blog_945
  • blogs_blog_946
  • blogs_blog_947
  • blogs_blog_948
  • blogs_blog_949
  • blogs_blog_950
  • blogs_blog_951
  • blogs_blog_952
  • blogs_blog_953
  • blogs_blog_954
  • blogs_blog_955
  • blogs_blog_956
  • blogs_blog_957
  • blogs_blog_958
  • blogs_blog_959
  • blogs_blog_960
  • blogs_blog_961
  • blogs_blog_962
  • blogs_blog_963
  • blogs_blog_964
  • blogs_blog_965
  • blogs_blog_966
  • blogs_blog_967
  • blogs_blog_968
  • blogs_blog_969
  • blogs_blog_970
  • blogs_blog_971
  • blogs_blog_972
  • blogs_blog_973
  • blogs_blog_974
  • blogs_blog_975
  • blogs_blog_976
  • blogs_blog_977
  • blogs_blog_978
  • blogs_blog_979
  • blogs_blog_980
  • blogs_blog_981
  • blogs_blog_982
  • blogs_blog_983
  • blogs_blog_984
  • blogs_blog_985
  • blogs_blog_986
  • blogs_blog_987
  • blogs_blog_988
  • blogs_blog_989
  • blogs_blog_990
  • blogs_blog_991
  • blogs_blog_992
  • blogs_blog_993
  • blogs_blog_994
  • blogs_blog_995
  • blogs_blog_996
  • Dr. Gerlicky's Miracle Diet
  • blogs_blog_998
  • blogs_blog_999
  • blogs_blog_1000
  • blogs_blog_1001
  • blogs_blog_1002
  • blogs_blog_1003
  • blogs_blog_1004
  • blogs_blog_1005
  • blogs_blog_1006
  • blogs_blog_1007
  • blogs_blog_1008
  • blogs_blog_1009
  • blogs_blog_1010
  • blogs_blog_1011
  • blogs_blog_1012
  • blogs_blog_1013
  • blogs_blog_1014
  • blogs_blog_1015
  • blogs_blog_1016
  • blogs_blog_1017
  • blogs_blog_1018
  • blogs_blog_1019
  • blogs_blog_1020
  • blogs_blog_1021
  • blogs_blog_1022
  • blogs_blog_1023
  • blogs_blog_1024
  • blogs_blog_1025
  • blogs_blog_1026
  • blogs_blog_1027
  • blogs_blog_1028
  • blogs_blog_1029
  • blogs_blog_1030
  • blogs_blog_1031
  • blogs_blog_1032
  • blogs_blog_1033
  • blogs_blog_1034
  • blogs_blog_1035
  • blogs_blog_1036
  • blogs_blog_1037
  • blogs_blog_1038
  • blogs_blog_1039
  • blogs_blog_1040
  • blogs_blog_1041
  • blogs_blog_1042
  • blogs_blog_1043
  • blogs_blog_1044
  • blogs_blog_1045
  • blogs_blog_1046
  • You're attacked by a Repair Nektann
  • blogs_blog_1048
  • blogs_blog_1050
  • blogs_blog_1051
  • blogs_blog_1052
  • blogs_blog_1053
  • blogs_blog_1054
  • blogs_blog_1055
  • blogs_blog_1056
  • blogs_blog_1057
  • blogs_blog_1058
  • blogs_blog_1059
  • blogs_blog_1060
  • blogs_blog_1061
  • blogs_blog_1062
  • blogs_blog_1063
  • blogs_blog_1064
  • blogs_blog_1065
  • blogs_blog_1066
  • The Fikou Web
  • blogs_blog_1068
  • blogs_blog_1069
  • blogs_blog_1070
  • blogs_blog_1071
  • blogs_blog_1072
  • blogs_blog_1073
  • blogs_blog_1074
  • blogs_blog_1075
  • blogs_blog_1076
  • blogs_blog_1077
  • blogs_blog_1078
  • blogs_blog_1079
  • blogs_blog_1080
  • blogs_blog_1081
  • blogs_blog_1082
  • blogs_blog_1083
  • blogs_blog_1084
  • blogs_blog_1086
  • blogs_blog_1087
  • Ye Olde Blogge
  • blogs_blog_1089
  • blogs_blog_1090
  • blogs_blog_1091
  • blogs_blog_1092
  • blogs_blog_1093
  • blogs_blog_1094
  • Icecrown Citadel
  • blogs_blog_1096
  • Obligatory Volcano Lair
  • blogs_blog_1098
  • blogs_blog_1099
  • blogs_blog_1100
  • blogs_blog_1101
  • blogs_blog_1102
  • blogs_blog_1103
  • blogs_blog_1104
  • blogs_blog_1105
  • blogs_blog_1106
  • blogs_blog_1107
  • blogs_blog_1108
  • blogs_blog_1109
  • blogs_blog_1110
  • blogs_blog_1111
  • blogs_blog_1112
  • blogs_blog_1113
  • blogs_blog_1114
  • blogs_blog_1115
  • blogs_blog_1116
  • blogs_blog_1117
  • blogs_blog_1118
  • blogs_blog_1119
  • blogs_blog_1120
  • A Nerd's Corner
  • blogs_blog_1122
  • blogs_blog_1123
  • blogs_blog_1124
  • blogs_blog_1125
  • blogs_blog_1126
  • blogs_blog_1127
  • blogs_blog_1128
  • blogs_blog_1129
  • blogs_blog_1130
  • blogs_blog_1131
  • blogs_blog_1132
  • blogs_blog_1133
  • blogs_blog_1134
  • blogs_blog_1135
  • blogs_blog_1136
  • blogs_blog_1137
  • blogs_blog_1138
  • blogs_blog_1139
  • blogs_blog_1140
  • blogs_blog_1141
  • blogs_blog_1142
  • blogs_blog_1143
  • blogs_blog_1144
  • blogs_blog_1145
  • blogs_blog_1146
  • Zahaki's Lair
  • blogs_blog_1148
  • blogs_blog_1149
  • blogs_blog_1150
  • blogs_blog_1151
  • blogs_blog_1152
  • blogs_blog_1153
  • blogs_blog_1154
  • blogs_blog_1155
  • blogs_blog_1156
  • blogs_blog_1157
  • blogs_blog_1158
  • blogs_blog_1159
  • blogs_blog_1160
  • blogs_blog_1161
  • blogs_blog_1162
  • blogs_blog_1163
  • blogs_blog_1164
  • blogs_blog_1165
  • blogs_blog_1166
  • blogs_blog_1167
  • blogs_blog_1168
  • blogs_blog_1169
  • blogs_blog_1170
  • blogs_blog_1171
  • blogs_blog_1172
  • oh god blog titles
  • blogs_blog_1174
  • blogs_blog_1175
  • blogs_blog_1176
  • blogs_blog_1177
  • blogs_blog_1178
  • blogs_blog_1179
  • blogs_blog_1180
  • Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum
  • blogs_blog_1182
  • blogs_blog_1183
  • blogs_blog_1184
  • blogs_blog_1185
  • blogs_blog_1186
  • blogs_blog_1187
  • blogs_blog_1188
  • blogs_blog_1189
  • blogs_blog_1190
  • blogs_blog_1191
  • blogs_blog_1192
  • blogs_blog_1193
  • blogs_blog_1194
  • blogs_blog_1195
  • blogs_blog_1196
  • blogs_blog_1197
  • blogs_blog_1198
  • blogs_blog_1199
  • blogs_blog_1200
  • blogs_blog_1201
  • blogs_blog_1202
  • blogs_blog_1203
  • blogs_blog_1204
  • blogs_blog_1205
  • blogs_blog_1206
  • blogs_blog_1207
  • Keratu's Blog
  • blogs_blog_1209
  • blogs_blog_1210
  • blogs_blog_1211
  • blogs_blog_1212
  • blogs_blog_1213
  • blogs_blog_1214
  • blogs_blog_1215
  • blogs_blog_1216
  • blogs_blog_1217
  • blogs_blog_1218
  • blogs_blog_1219
  • blogs_blog_1220
  • blogs_blog_1221
  • Language Of The Mad
  • blogs_blog_1223
  • blogs_blog_1224
  • blogs_blog_1225
  • blogs_blog_1226
  • blogs_blog_1227
  • blogs_blog_1228
  • blogs_blog_1229
  • blogs_blog_1230
  • blogs_blog_1231
  • blogs_blog_1232
  • blogs_blog_1233
  • blogs_blog_1234
  • blogs_blog_1235
  • blogs_blog_1236
  • blogs_blog_1237
  • blogs_blog_1238
  • blogs_blog_1239
  • blogs_blog_1240
  • blogs_blog_1241
  • blogs_blog_1242
  • blogs_blog_1243
  • blogs_blog_1244
  • blogs_blog_1245
  • blogs_blog_1246
  • blogs_blog_1247
  • blogs_blog_1248
  • blogs_blog_1249
  • blogs_blog_1250
  • blogs_blog_1251
  • blogs_blog_1252
  • blogs_blog_1253
  • blogs_blog_1254
  • blogs_blog_1255
  • blogs_blog_1256
  • blogs_blog_1257
  • blogs_blog_1258
  • blogs_blog_1259
  • blogs_blog_1260
  • blogs_blog_1261
  • blogs_blog_1262
  • blogs_blog_1263
  • blogs_blog_1264
  • blogs_blog_1265
  • blogs_blog_1266
  • blogs_blog_1267
  • blogs_blog_1268
  • blogs_blog_1269
  • blogs_blog_1270
  • blogs_blog_1271
  • blogs_blog_1272
  • blogs_blog_1273
  • blogs_blog_1274
  • blogs_blog_1275
  • blogs_blog_1276
  • blogs_blog_1277
  • blogs_blog_1278
  • blogs_blog_1279
  • blogs_blog_1280
  • bjork
  • blogs_blog_1282
  • blogs_blog_1283
  • blogs_blog_1284
  • blogs_blog_1285
  • blogs_blog_1286
  • ArtBLOGed
  • blogs_blog_1288
  • blogs_blog_1289
  • blogs_blog_1290
  • blogs_blog_1291
  • blogs_blog_1292
  • blogs_blog_1293
  • blogs_blog_1294
  • blogs_blog_1295
  • blogs_blog_1296
  • blogs_blog_1297
  • blogs_blog_1298
  • blogs_blog_1299
  • blogs_blog_1300
  • blogs_blog_1301
  • blogs_blog_1302
  • blogs_blog_1303
  • blogs_blog_1304
  • blogs_blog_1305
  • blogs_blog_1306
  • blogs_blog_1307
  • blogs_blog_1308
  • blogs_blog_1309
  • blogs_blog_1310
  • blogs_blog_1311
  • blogs_blog_1312
  • blogs_blog_1313
  • blogs_blog_1314
  • blogs_blog_1315
  • blogs_blog_1316
  • blogs_blog_1317
  • blogs_blog_1318
  • blogs_blog_1319
  • blogs_blog_1320
  • blogs_blog_1321
  • blogs_blog_1322
  • blogs_blog_1323
  • blogs_blog_1324
  • blogs_blog_1325
  • blogs_blog_1326
  • blogs_blog_1327
  • blogs_blog_1328
  • blogs_blog_1329
  • blogs_blog_1330
  • blogs_blog_1331
  • blogs_blog_1332
  • blogs_blog_1333
  • blogs_blog_1334
  • blogs_blog_1335
  • blogs_blog_1336
  • blogs_blog_1337
  • blogs_blog_1338
  • blogs_blog_1339
  • blogs_blog_1340
  • blogs_blog_1341
  • blogs_blog_1342
  • blogs_blog_1343
  • blogs_blog_1344
  • blogs_blog_1345
  • blogs_blog_1346
  • blogs_blog_1347
  • blogs_blog_1348
  • blogs_blog_1349
  • blogs_blog_1350
  • blogs_blog_1351
  • blogs_blog_1352
  • blogs_blog_1353
  • The Blaaahhhg
  • blogs_blog_1355
  • blogs_blog_1356
  • blogs_blog_1357
  • blogs_blog_1358
  • blogs_blog_1359
  • blogs_blog_1360
  • blogs_blog_1361
  • blogs_blog_1362
  • blogs_blog_1363
  • blogs_blog_1364
  • blogs_blog_1365
  • blogs_blog_1366
  • blogs_blog_1367
  • blogs_blog_1368
  • blogs_blog_1369
  • blogs_blog_1370
  • blogs_blog_1371
  • blogs_blog_1372
  • blogs_blog_1373
  • blogs_blog_1374
  • blogs_blog_1375
  • blogs_blog_1376
  • blogs_blog_1377
  • blogs_blog_1378
  • blogs_blog_1379
  • blogs_blog_1380
  • blogs_blog_1381
  • blogs_blog_1382
  • blogs_blog_1383
  • blogs_blog_1384
  • blogs_blog_1385
  • blogs_blog_1386
  • blogs_blog_1387
  • blogs_blog_1388
  • blogs_blog_1389
  • blogs_blog_1390
  • blogs_blog_1391
  • blogs_blog_1392
  • blogs_blog_1393
  • blogs_blog_1394
  • blogs_blog_1395
  • blogs_blog_1396
  • blogs_blog_1397
  • Koth Blog
  • blogs_blog_1399
  • blogs_blog_1400
  • blogs_blog_1401
  • blogs_blog_1402
  • blogs_blog_1403
  • blogs_blog_1404
  • blogs_blog_1405
  • blogs_blog_1406
  • blogs_blog_1407
  • blogs_blog_1408
  • blogs_blog_1409
  • blogs_blog_1410
  • blogs_blog_1411
  • blogs_blog_1412
  • blogs_blog_1413
  • blogs_blog_1414
  • blogs_blog_1415
  • blogs_blog_1416
  • blogs_blog_1417
  • blogs_blog_1418
  • blogs_blog_1419
  • blogs_blog_1420
  • The Lair 1421
  • blogs_blog_1422
  • blogs_blog_1423
  • blogs_blog_1424
  • blogs_blog_1425
  • blogs_blog_1426
  • blogs_blog_1427
  • blogs_blog_1428
  • blogs_blog_1429
  • blogs_blog_1430
  • Mishaps and Bubblewrap
  • blogs_blog_1432
  • The Sanctuary
  • blogs_blog_1434
  • blogs_blog_1435
  • blogs_blog_1436
  • blogs_blog_1437
  • blogs_blog_1438
  • blogs_blog_1439
  • blogs_blog_1440
  • blogs_blog_1441
  • blogs_blog_1442
  • blogs_blog_1443
  • blogs_blog_1445
  • blogs_blog_1446
  • blogs_blog_1447
  • blogs_blog_1448
  • blogs_blog_1449
  • blogs_blog_1450
  • blogs_blog_1451
  • blogs_blog_1452
  • blogs_blog_1453
  • blogs_blog_1454
  • blogs_blog_1455
  • blogs_blog_1456
  • blogs_blog_1457
  • blogs_blog_1458
  • blogs_blog_1459
  • blogs_blog_1460
  • blogs_blog_1461
  • blogs_blog_1462
  • blogs_blog_1463
  • blogs_blog_1464
  • blogs_blog_1465
  • blogs_blog_1466
  • blogs_blog_1467
  • blogs_blog_1468
  • blogs_blog_1469
  • blogs_blog_1470
  • blogs_blog_1471
  • blogs_blog_1472
  • blogs_blog_1473
  • blogs_blog_1474
  • blogs_blog_1475
  • blogs_blog_1476
  • blogs_blog_1477
  • blogs_blog_1478
  • blogs_blog_1479
  • blogs_blog_1480
  • blogs_blog_1481
  • blogs_blog_1482
  • blogs_blog_1483
  • blogs_blog_1484
  • blogs_blog_1485
  • blogs_blog_1486
  • blogs_blog_1487
  • blogs_blog_1488
  • blogs_blog_1489
  • blogs_blog_1490
  • blogs_blog_1491
  • blogs_blog_1492
  • blogs_blog_1493
  • blogs_blog_1494
  • The Blog which may or may not exist.
  • blogs_blog_1496
  • blogs_blog_1497
  • blogs_blog_1498
  • blogs_blog_1499
  • blogs_blog_1500
  • blogs_blog_1501
  • blogs_blog_1502
  • blogs_blog_1503
  • blogs_blog_1504
  • blogs_blog_1505
  • blogs_blog_1506
  • blogs_blog_1507
  • blogs_blog_1508
  • blogs_blog_1509
  • blogs_blog_1510
  • blogs_blog_1511
  • blogs_blog_1512
  • blogs_blog_1513
  • blogs_blog_1514
  • blogs_blog_1515
  • blogs_blog_1516
  • blogs_blog_1517
  • blogs_blog_1518
  • blogs_blog_1519
  • blogs_blog_1520
  • blogs_blog_1521
  • blogs_blog_1522
  • blogs_blog_1523
  • blogs_blog_1524
  • blogs_blog_1525
  • blogs_blog_1526
  • blogs_blog_1527
  • blogs_blog_1528
  • blogs_blog_1529
  • blogs_blog_1530
  • blogs_blog_1531
  • blogs_blog_1532
  • blogs_blog_1533
  • blogs_blog_1534
  • blogs_blog_1535
  • blogs_blog_1536
  • blogs_blog_1537
  • blogs_blog_1538
  • blogs_blog_1539
  • blogs_blog_1540
  • blogs_blog_1541
  • blogs_blog_1542
  • blogs_blog_1543
  • blogs_blog_1544
  • blogs_blog_1545
  • blogs_blog_1546
  • blogs_blog_1547
  • blogs_blog_1548
  • blogs_blog_1549
  • blogs_blog_1550
  • blogs_blog_1551
  • blogs_blog_1552
  • blogs_blog_1553
  • blogs_blog_1554
  • blogs_blog_1555
  • blogs_blog_1556
  • blogs_blog_1557
  • blogs_blog_1558
  • blogs_blog_1559
  • blogs_blog_1560
  • blogs_blog_1561
  • blogs_blog_1562
  • blogs_blog_1563
  • blogs_blog_1564
  • blogs_blog_1565
  • blogs_blog_1566
  • blogs_blog_1567
  • blogs_blog_1568
  • blogs_blog_1569
  • blogs_blog_1570
  • blogs_blog_1571
  • blogs_blog_1572
  • blogs_blog_1573
  • blogs_blog_1574
  • blogs_blog_1575
  • blogs_blog_1576
  • blogs_blog_1577
  • blogs_blog_1578
  • blogs_blog_1579
  • blogs_blog_1580
  • blogs_blog_1581
  • blogs_blog_1582
  • blogs_blog_1583
  • blogs_blog_1584
  • blogs_blog_1585
  • blogs_blog_1586
  • blogs_blog_1587
  • blogs_blog_1588
  • blogs_blog_1589
  • blogs_blog_1590
  • blogs_blog_1591
  • blogs_blog_1592
  • JMSOG's Strange Blog
  • Big
  • blogs_blog_1595
  • blogs_blog_1596
  • blogs_blog_1597
  • blogs_blog_1598
  • blogs_blog_1599
  • Space
  • blogs_blog_1601
  • blogs_blog_1602
  • blogs_blog_1603
  • blogs_blog_1604
  • blogs_blog_1605
  • blogs_blog_1606
  • blogs_blog_1607
  • blogs_blog_1608
  • blogs_blog_1609
  • blogs_blog_1610
  • blogs_blog_1611
  • blogs_blog_1612
  • blogs_blog_1613
  • blogs_blog_1614
  • blogs_blog_1615
  • blogs_blog_1616
  • blogs_blog_1617
  • blogs_blog_1618
  • blogs_blog_1619
  • blogs_blog_1620
  • blogs_blog_1621
  • blogs_blog_1622
  • blogs_blog_1623
  • blogs_blog_1624
  • blogs_blog_1625
  • blogs_blog_1626
  • blogs_blog_1627
  • blogs_blog_1628
  • A Blog in Oblivion
  • blogs_blog_1630
  • blogs_blog_1631
  • blogs_blog_1632
  • blogs_blog_1633
  • blogs_blog_1634
  • blogs_blog_1635
  • blogs_blog_1636
  • blogs_blog_1637
  • blogs_blog_1638
  • The Piraka Blog
  • blogs_blog_1640
  • blogs_blog_1641
  • blogs_blog_1642
  • blogs_blog_1643
  • Garreg Mach
  • blogs_blog_1645
  • blogs_blog_1646
  • blogs_blog_1647
  • blogs_blog_1648
  • blogs_blog_1649
  • Unspoken Words
  • blogs_blog_1651
  • blogs_blog_1652
  • blogs_blog_1653
  • blogs_blog_1654
  • blogs_blog_1655
  • blogs_blog_1656
  • blogs_blog_1657
  • blogs_blog_1658
  • blogs_blog_1659
  • The Island
  • blogs_blog_1661
  • blogs_blog_1662
  • blogs_blog_1663
  • blogs_blog_1664
  • blogs_blog_1665
  • blogs_blog_1666
  • blogs_blog_1667
  • blogs_blog_1668
  • blogs_blog_1669
  • blogs_blog_1670
  • blogs_blog_1671
  • blogs_blog_1672
  • blogs_blog_1673
  • blogs_blog_1674
  • blogs_blog_1675
  • blogs_blog_1676
  • blogs_blog_1677
  • blogs_blog_1678
  • blogs_blog_1679
  • blogs_blog_1680
  • blogs_blog_1681
  • blogs_blog_1682
  • blogs_blog_1683
  • blogs_blog_1684
  • blogs_blog_1685
  • blogs_blog_1686
  • blogs_blog_1687
  • blogs_blog_1688
  • blogs_blog_1689
  • blogs_blog_1690
  • Skrade's Log
  • blogs_blog_1692
  • Onaku's Blog Thingie
  • blogs_blog_1694
  • blogs_blog_1695
  • blogs_blog_1696
  • Between the Bookends
  • blogs_blog_1698
  • blogs_blog_1699
  • blogs_blog_1700
  • blogs_blog_1701
  • blogs_blog_1702
  • blogs_blog_1703
  • blogs_blog_1704
  • blogs_blog_1705
  • blogs_blog_1706
  • blogs_blog_1707
  • blogs_blog_1708
  • blogs_blog_1709
  • blogs_blog_1710
  • blogs_blog_1711
  • blogs_blog_1712
  • blogs_blog_1713
  • blogs_blog_1714
  • blogs_blog_1715
  • blogs_blog_1716
  • blogs_blog_1717
  • blogs_blog_1718
  • blogs_blog_1719
  • blogs_blog_1720
  • blogs_blog_1721
  • blogs_blog_1722
  • blogs_blog_1725
  • blogs_blog_1726
  • blogs_blog_1727
  • blogs_blog_1728
  • blogs_blog_1729
  • blogs_blog_1730
  • blogs_blog_1731
  • blogs_blog_1732
  • blogs_blog_1733
  • blogs_blog_1734
  • blogs_blog_1735
  • blogs_blog_1736
  • blogs_blog_1737
  • blogs_blog_1738
  • blogs_blog_1739
  • blogs_blog_1740
  • blogs_blog_1741
  • blogs_blog_1742
  • blogs_blog_1743
  • blogs_blog_1744
  • blogs_blog_1745
  • blogs_blog_1746
  • blogs_blog_1747
  • blogs_blog_1748
  • blogs_blog_1749
  • blogs_blog_1750
  • blogs_blog_1751
  • blogs_blog_1752
  • blog ehks
  • blogs_blog_1755
  • blogs_blog_1756
  • blogs_blog_1757
  • blogs_blog_1758
  • blogs_blog_1759
  • blogs_blog_1760
  • blogs_blog_1761
  • blogs_blog_1762
  • blogs_blog_1763
  • blogs_blog_1764
  • blogs_blog_1765
  • blogs_blog_1766
  • blogs_blog_1767
  • blogs_blog_1768
  • blogs_blog_1769
  • blogs_blog_1770
  • blogs_blog_1771
  • blogs_blog_1772
  • blogs_blog_1773
  • blogs_blog_1774
  • blogs_blog_1775
  • blogs_blog_1776
  • blogs_blog_1777
  • Generic Blog Name
  • blogs_blog_1779
  • blogs_blog_1780
  • blogs_blog_1781
  • blogs_blog_1782
  • blogs_blog_1783
  • blogs_blog_1784
  • blogs_blog_1785
  • blogs_blog_1786
  • blogs_blog_1787
  • blogs_blog_1788
  • blogs_blog_1789
  • blogs_blog_1790
  • blogs_blog_1791
  • blogs_blog_1792
  • blogs_blog_1793
  • blogs_blog_1794
  • blogs_blog_1795
  • blogs_blog_1796
  • blogs_blog_1797
  • blogs_blog_1798
  • blogs_blog_1799
  • blogs_blog_1800
  • blogs_blog_1801
  • blogs_blog_1802
  • This is my lawn
  • blogs_blog_1804
  • Adventures in Mushroomlandia
  • blogs_blog_1806
  • blogs_blog_1807
  • blogs_blog_1808
  • blogs_blog_1809
  • blogs_blog_1810
  • blogs_blog_1811
  • blogs_blog_1812
  • blogs_blog_1813
  • blogs_blog_1814
  • blogs_blog_1815
  • blogs_blog_1816
  • blogs_blog_1817
  • blogs_blog_1818
  • blogs_blog_1819
  • blogs_blog_1820
  • blogs_blog_1821
  • blogs_blog_1822
  • blogs_blog_1823
  • blogs_blog_1824
  • blogs_blog_1825
  • blogs_blog_1826
  • blogs_blog_1827
  • blogs_blog_1828
  • blogs_blog_1829
  • blogs_blog_1830
  • blogs_blog_1831
  • Sybre's Log
  • blogs_blog_1833
  • blogs_blog_1834
  • blogs_blog_1835
  • blogs_blog_1836
  • Cozy Coven
  • blogs_blog_1838
  • blogs_blog_1839
  • blogs_blog_1840
  • blogs_blog_1841
  • blogs_blog_1842
  • blogs_blog_1843
  • blogs_blog_1844
  • blogs_blog_1845
  • blogs_blog_1846
  • blogs_blog_1847
  • Diary of A Forgotten Man
  • blogs_blog_1849
  • blogs_blog_1850
  • blogs_blog_1851
  • blogs_blog_1852
  • Valendale's Reflections
  • blogs_blog_1854
  • blogs_blog_1855
  • blogs_blog_1856
  • blogs_blog_1857
  • blogs_blog_1858
  • blogs_blog_1859
  • blogs_blog_1860
  • Kranan's Floating Isle
  • blogs_blog_1862
  • blogs_blog_1863
  • blogs_blog_1864
  • blogs_blog_1865
  • blogs_blog_1866
  • Arcee's Garage
  • Time to put on a show...
  • blogs_blog_1869
  • blogs_blog_1870
  • blogs_blog_1871
  • blogs_blog_1872
  • blogs_blog_1873
  • blogs_blog_1874
  • blogs_blog_1875
  • blogs_blog_1876
  • blogs_blog_1877
  • blogs_blog_1878
  • blogs_blog_1879
  • blogs_blog_1880
  • blogs_blog_1881
  • blogs_blog_1882
  • blogs_blog_1883
  • blogs_blog_1884
  • blogs_blog_1885
  • blogs_blog_1886
  • blogs_blog_1887
  • blogs_blog_1888
  • blogs_blog_1889
  • blogs_blog_1890
  • Inverted Moon
  • blogs_blog_1892
  • blogs_blog_1893
  • blogs_blog_1894
  • blogs_blog_1895
  • blogs_blog_1896
  • blogs_blog_1897
  • blogs_blog_1898
  • blogs_blog_1899
  • blogs_blog_1900
  • Home of Titans
  • Detachment
  • The Archives
  • blogs_blog_1904
  • blogs_blog_1905
  • it's summer and we're running out of ice
  • blogs_blog_1907
  • blogs_blog_1908
  • blogs_blog_1909
  • blogs_blog_1910
  • blogs_blog_1911
  • Kathisma Library
  • Bean Does Stuff
  • A Wild Blog Appeared!
  • whispers from the pit

Product Groups

  • Premier Membership
  • BioniLUG
  • BrickFair Events
    • BrickFair Party Campaign (In-Person)
    • BrickFair Party Campaign (Online)
  • Parts Drafts
  • Merchandise

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Twitter


Instagram


Facebook


Discord


YouTube


Flickr


Skype


Website URL


LEGO.com Account


AIM


Location


Interests


Previous Username

  1. MAJOR JAMES KRANZ knew his wife well enough to be suspicious when out of the blue she told him that she was going on an extended trip to Japan. Perhaps it was the way she touched his hand when she told him. Perhaps it was because she had been born in Japan and he knew that this trip must have some special meaning she was withholding from him. Yet, what bothered him most of all was that she must have been thinking of this for a while, and yet had never told him about it. She traveled the world, but had always told him far in advance and come to him for second opinions. They talked through everything together. So something didn't seem right about this trip. Of course, he had no idea what it was, but he knew something was up. What was there that was so big that she couldn't tell him about it? There was one other thing. Since James was spending his time actively serving in the marines, he would have no time to take care of his daughter, Anne. She would naturally go with her mother to Japan, and take part in whatever it was she was up to. ---------------------- Discussion Topic 24601
  2. What are the glitches and such (whether they be good or bad) you have noticed in the Bionicle Flash games (and yes, I know MNOLG 2 was just one big glitch, but whatever). My favorite one would be that in Matoran Escape you can hold down the space bar (Switch Character) and while you hold it down you will keep switching, and you are invincible for the most part. For example, Zamor spheres go straight through you without doing anything. What ones have you noticed?
  3. Krayzikk

    In The Shadows

    In the Shadows "It's what is in the dark. It's what is always in the dark." Chapter One On some days, the sea is calm and peaceful. On these days the waters could be navigated even by the most amateur of beings. Today is not one of these days. Today, the seas are as dark as night and the waves are as violent as an angered skakdi. And amidst the crashing waves, a small craft struggles against the surf. The craft is a light, agile vessel, looking more suited for races or days in the sun than ferrying passengers between Xia and Metru Nui. Which is exactly what it was designed for. The passengers of this vessel, desperate as they were, had payed it’s owner a large sum to bring them to Metru Nui, a fact they would soon regret.For the craft could not maintain it’s course for long. And indeed it didn’t, as the next wave was the worst yet, towering over the craft, more than three times the height of the boat. The crew and passengers of the craft braced themselves, knowing that nothing short of Mata Nui himself could stop this wave from colliding with them. And collide it did, capsizing the vessel. The sea claimed it’s prize, owing it to the stupidity of one being, who refused to make landfall on a nearby island.****************************************************************************************************The storm had already subsided and night had fallen when several cold, wet beings dragged themselves onto the beach. One stood abruptly and walked over to another. The first being drew back his arm and punched the other being when he attempted to stand. “This is your fault, Krayn! If you weren’t so bound and determined to have everything your way, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”The second being, now identified as Krayn, stood. “Oh really? If we didn’t have to get back to Metru Nui so quickly for your court date, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” The toa of fire heated up the water soaking him, forcing it to evaporate. A third being straightened carefully, before speaking.“Mrak is right Krayn, at least in this regard.” His tone indicated his anger, though his voice remained cold.“Oh really, Ern?” Krayn responded, openly displaying his anger. “We don’t know anything about this island, it was safer to keep going! I thought you liked logical decisions!”“Your decision was not logical. The logical choice would have been to stop at this island, and wait for the storm to blow over. That way, no matter what was here, we would still have a ship. This way, we are here regardless with no ship.”Krayn inhaled sharply, as if to speak again, but he was cut off when Faen entered the conversation. “Stop it, all of you. We aren’t accomplishing anything by standing around arguing.”“Yeah, listen to the turaga. You guys aren’t accomplishing anything except making the rest of us go deaf.” A sarcastic voice commented. Drin’s eyes narrowed. “Krayn, if you say what you are thinking about saying, I will personally render you incapable of ever speaking again.” Her tone left no doubt that she would carry out her threat.Ern sighed. “Alright, everyone shut up. Did any of the crew members survive?”“I don’t think so.” Faen answered.“Well, Faen was nearest to the crew when the ship went down, so she would probably know.” Drin commented.Ern nodded, accepting the information without a hint of emotion. “What have we got left for supplies?”Krayn interrupted before anyone could answer. “Wait, what is with this ‘we’ stuff?”Drin laughed bitterly. “Well, since we are all stuck here because of your genius plan, we’re gonna have to work together.”Krayn bristled. Ern spoke again. “My question still stands.”Mrak spoke quietly. “I think that we all still have most of our weapons, but we don’t have any food.”“Well, the thief would know!” Krayn said mockingly. Mrak flinched, an action rarely seen on a vortixx.“Alright, Krayn, shut up unless you have something helpful to say.” Ern looked thoughtful. “Well, we can’t do anything in the dark. So, let’s settle down for the night here. We’ll need to have somebody keeping watch at all times. I’ll take first shift. Drin, you take second.” The toa of psionics nodded. “And Krayn you have last watch.”The toa of fire protested. “What about Mrak and Faen? Why don’t they have to keep watch?”“So you really want a thief, and the elderly keeping watch over you while you sleep?” Drin said mockingly. “Another brilliant idea. You’re just full of them, aren’t you Krayn?”“That is enough, you two.” Faen cut in before further words could be exchanged. “Ern is right. This plan works the best.”Krayn snorted derisively, but lay down on the sand a little ways from the shore. Drin lay down a few feet away from him, and both Faen and Mrak did the same in turn. Ern, on the other hand, drew his katana and settled in for a long, long night.****************************************************************************************************Drin was the first to awake the next morning, stretching her limbs, she stood and took in her surroundings. The group had made landfall on a beach with a dense, forested area ahead. The trees were tall enough to block the view of all but the top of a mountain rising in the distance. So, this is likely a volcanic island. She cast around with her mind, in an effort to locate any sentient life, but if there was any, it was out of range. She sighed, and turned to wake the others. Krayn was already awake and ignoring her. Review Topic
  4. All righty, here I will be posting a story that I've been working on for the past week or so. I will keep working on the saga (this is only one of the stories in the saga). It is named Oklan (working name). As far as I know, it will be PG. If that changes later, I will notify you all. Here is the review topic. Chapter 1 Oklan opened his eyes, but shut them quickly when briny water splashed into them. No. The water didn't splash as much as it poured into them, as if it had been there first and was just filling a place that it should have been. He opened his eyes again. The salt water irritated his eyes and blurred his vision, but he was still able to see where he was. He was floating, submerged, in the ocean. He looked up and saw the sun sparkling above, probably ten or so feet. He swam up, and, bursting through the water, took a deep breath. It was only after he did so that he noticed that he didn't actually feel like he neededa breath; he had just done it automatically. He then looked down at his hands and noticed that they were quite wrinkled. I must have been in the water for a while, he thought. He looked around at the horizon and noticed the outline of an island about half of a mile off. He swam towards it slowly, saving his energy. After about fifteen minutes he turned around and floated on his back for a while. Once the sun had gotten too warm for his pale skin, he turned back over and swam again. He repeated this three times before dragging himself onto the beach. It itself was made of a slightly pink sand, while further up were many large rocks. Beyond that he couldn't see. He lay on the sand for several minutes before stiffly getting to his feet. As he walked on the sand, he realized that there were no footprints on the sand other than his. He walked towards the rocks, and, arriving there, started climbing up them. Oklan saw that up ahead was a rock that was quite a bit larger than the rest. He made his way to it and clambered up the side. Once he got to the top, he looked around at his surroundings. The ocean from which he had come seemed endless, though he doubted it was. On the pink-tinted beach he saw his lone set of footprints leading towards the rocks where he now stood. He turned around and looked on the other side of the rocks. It was primarily dense jungle, though he could see some small clearings of the trees in a few sections. No smoke rose from the jungle. Further out, he could see a mountain. The rock Oklan was standing on was hot from the sun and was burning his feet, so he carefully climbed down the way he had come. He clambered over the last few rocks before standing at the brink of the jungle. He parted a few bushes in his path while stepping into the lush forest. After the initial blockade of bushes, vines, and trees, Oklan realized that the jungle wasn't as dense as it had looked from the rock. There was enough room that he was usually able to move without having to push past anything. He walked for over an hour and the sun had started to slowly sink, darkening the forest. He walked by what seemed to be an impenetrable wall of vines when he felt a pull in that direction. He turned to face it, not sure what was happening, all the while feeling that he should try pushing past the vines. He tried parting them and found that he could do it easily. He walked through the vines. His vision blurred, then cleared all in the matter of a few seconds. He found himself in a surprisingly well-lit clearing. The light seemed to be centered on three small pools, not much more than dips in the ground. He walked over to them. One was filled with an opaque brown liquid, though nothing like mud. It was smooth and evenly colored, almost beautiful. When Oklan looked at the second, he thought it was empty. But then the light shifted and he realized that it was filled with the clearest liquid he had ever seen. The third was filled with a bluish-tinted liquid that was, like the second, very clear. Oklan was started when he heard a voice that seemed to come from everywhere. "Kyreth Oklan, you must choose from the three elemental pools before you. The first is Earth. The second, Air. And the third is Water." And then it was gone. Oklan was still trying to figure out where the voice had come from or who it belonged to when he noticed that light was pouring out from all three of the pools. He looked at them all again, more closely. Some small part of his mind called out for the water, so he went back over to it again. Small ripples went through the surface of the liquid when he got near it. "What do I do now?" he wondered aloud. The voice spoke again. "If you have decided, plunge your arm into the pool of your choosing." Oklan did so. A chill went through his entire body, followed by the feeling of something creeping up his arm. When he looked there, he saw that the water from the pool had started climbing up his arm. In a moment he felt as though he was , but not as though he had become it. It seemed as though the water had become him. A moment later, the feeling was mostly gone, though some small part of it stayed with him. When he looked into the pool, which hadn't gone down at all, there was no reflection of his face. He got up to look in the other pools, but found them empty. When he went over to the water pool again, it too was empty. Again he felt a pull, again, it was towards the wall of vines. He walked over to them and parted the vines before looking back longingly at the pools were, but found them completely gone. The ground had smoothed out and the area wasn't well-lit anymore. He turned again to the wall of vines and walked through.
  5. Here is the review topic for Oklan. Comments and critisism encouraged.
  6. OK, I had a [hopefully] great idea the other day - Why not write out the comics into a story-like style? So here I will be posting what I do of that. Now you may ask why I put them in Epics instead of Short Stories. I did it because I will (hopefully, if you guys like it enough) continue writing the comics. I will be posting them all in here. I will probably be posting them in half-comic sections. The review topic is here. OK, here is Chapter 1 (each chapter will be half of a comic). The island of Mata Nui was once a paradise – until the entity known as Makuta arrived, transforming it into a land of darkness and evil. The natives, called Tohunga, and their leaders, the Turaga, have waited and hoped for heroes who would conquer Makuta and save their home. Now their waiting has come to an end. Six mighty warriors, known as Toa, have arrived on Mata Nui. Each controls a force of nature – fire, air, earth, water, stone, ice. But to triumph over Makuta, they must gather the Kanohi Masks of Power, which give them greater skills, abilities, and wisdom. The more masks they collect, the more powerful the Toa become. Finding the Masks takes great courage, for Makuta controls the land, sea, and sky of Mata Nui. He also commands a host of terrible creatures known as Rahi, as well as the Manas, fierce predators with power that no single Toa can withstand… If the Toa hope to win, they must find the power of the Masks! Find the Power! Small crabs crawled around on a large metal canister that had recently washed up on a beach. It hissed slightly when some of them reached the top, frightening and scattering the crabs. In a moment, the front of the canister blew off. With it came a few white-tinted body parts, though they looked far from dead, along with a few pieces of the same color armor. The eyes of what looked like the head of whatever it had been started glowing a bright blue. The head was attached to what must have been the torso of the figure, of which one arm was still intact. The working arm groped around for its pair, then pushed it into place at the figure's shoulder. Thoughts came into the mind of the partly-together figure. I have slept for so long. my dreams have been dark ones. He attached one leg after another into where his hips were. But now I am awakened. He picked up a mask laying in the sand, one of the few remaining pieces of his body. He pressed it onto his face. Now the scattered elemens of my being are rejoined. Now, I am whole. He stood up, stretching his muscles. He glanced down at a white sword stuck at an odd angle into the sand. He leaned over and picked it up, getting a feel for its weight and balance. And the darkness cannot stand before me. *~*~* The being walked off the beach towards a valley filled with snow. As he walked, thoughts were racing through his mind. The evil on this island is about to learn that justice can be very...cold. He continued walking, but noticed something, or someone, in the very corner of his vision. My mask lets me see pathways not seen before--patterns of head--even through the rock. And I see that I have a visitor. He turn towards what he saw, a small figure hiding - or trying to hide in any case - behind an outcropping of snow-covered rock. "Come out, little one, before you catch a chill." the white figure said to him. The small figure, who also wore white and a similar mask, started running away. My new friend tries to flee, but a coating of ice beneath his feet will bring him sliding back to me, he decides. He swung his sword down onto the earth, sending a ripple of ice through the ground. "Stay," he commanded. "Yaaah!" the smaller figure yelled. Interesting, the larger figure thought. The power is in me. The sword is but the focus. "We have things to discuss." he said. The smaller figure was still tumbling in the snow and ice, but when he heard the other being speak, he made an effort to recover himself. "Who are you? And why were you watching me?" The larger white being demanded. "I...I am Matoro, a Tohunga. I saw you come ashore. I've been waiting for you." The larger figure leaned in closer to Matoro, who, in response, leaned in as well. "All of us here on Mata Nui have been waiting for you and the others. Now if only you can find the masks of power..." Matoro tried continuing to speak, but the other cut him off. "What 'others'? What masks?" Matoro told him, in the best way he could, about what he knew about him. When Matoro asked for his name, he automatically responded, saying "Kopaka". As soon as the words had left his mouth he knew they were true, but he wondered how he knew. Kopaka thought the entire time Matoro spoke. His tale is broken. Incomplete. But it is the tale told in my dreams, or close to it. I have been summoned--I and others--to challenge a mighty evil. To defeat it, I will need great power. The Kanohi masks will give me that power. Once Matoro finished speaking, Kopaka spoke again. "Tell me where to find these masks." "They are lost. Scattered. Hidden all over Mata Nui. Some are guarded by nightmare creatures...others hidden where no Tohunga could reach. Turaga Nuju, the village elder, spoke of a mask of shielding, hidden in the place of far-seeing." "'Place of far-seeing'? Your Turaga speaks in riddles." Kopaka turned away from the still-sitting Matoro. Matoro took the hint and got up and followed Kopaka. "I hate riddles." *~*~* The tracks they left were not left alone or buried by more snow. They were seen by a creature not unlike those Matoro mentioned. *~*~* The two of them kept walking until the valley opened up into a chasm of indeterminable depth. On one side of the chasm was a steep icy cliff, and on the other, absolute nothingness. Kopaka and Matoro stopped at the edge. “My people are planning an ice bridge to span this chasm—in your honor,” Matoro said. “Until then, I will make my own. I--” Kopaka started. A creature, the same one who had been tracking them for around an hour, charged up from behind them. “No!” Kopaka yelled. The monstrous creature knocked Matoro off of the edge. Right before he fell, he shouted to Kopaka. “Kopaka! Watch out!” Kopaka lept over the edge, grasping for Matoro's hand. After a few perilous moments, they grabbed each other by the arm. Kopaka pulled Matoro higher up and held him around his middle. “Don’t struggle! You’re safe now!”
  7. I was wondering what your favorite LEGO (or Bionicle)gift you have gotten was. I would actually say mine was the Episode 3 Star Wars Clone Walker thing from 2005. The reason? Because I got it in ~2009. Another good one was when I got Keelerak. What were yours?
  8. Hi guys, welcome to my Epic A Warrior's Tale. The main character of the story is Planachar, my Toa of Fire. Be sure to drop a comment or two! __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Review Topic: LINK Chapter One, Stranded He was lying on a beach. That much he knew. What had happened? How had he gotten here? Questions filled his mind. Then he remembered. The mission from the Turaga, the horrible storm, and the massacre on the beach. Anger and hatred filled his heart. He was helpless to watch as he watched his friends get butchered right in front him. He didn’t know what those things were. But they would pay dearly for robbing him of his friend’s lives. He got up and found his sword and shield. They were battered and dented from numerous battles. The Ta-Matoran insisted that they fix them. But Planachar refused. They reminded him of past mistakes. Mistakes that he would not make again. He set out on a mission. To hunt those things down. On his way through the jungle, he spotted countless masks that were scarred and pitted from weathering and those creatures no-doubt. He decided to set a trap for them. Gathering up as many sticks and leaves as he could, he strode out to the clearing up ahead. Soon. He thought My friends will not have died in vain. And with that, he built a fire.
  9. At a press conference earlier today, Sony confirmed the Playstation 4, as well as several launch titles. The company has expanded heavily on the concept of social gaming--most notably, they've added a live stream system in which you can stream your game screen, receive comments from friends, and even let a friend take over the controller remotely temporarily. The console will have 8gb of RAM and a secondary chip dedicated to downloads. This will allow downloads to continue after the system is put into a low power mode. The low power mode also allows for games to be continued exactly where you left off. The game will not be quit when entering the low power mode so the session is preserved. The Dualshock 4 controller now includes a headphone jack and an LCD touchpad, as well as Move capabilities and a "Share" button. The share button will bring up a video recording of the previous 15 minutes played, from which you can clip desired sections or separate individual screenshots for uploading to video sites and social networking sites, respectively. Basically, lots of improvements. We have no visual on the console yet, but more will be unveiled in the coming months. Discuss rumors and such here. -SK
  10. Now I know I'm going to get a lot of critisim for this epic but this is my fanon story. So tell me what you think of the story. Oh..and also I'll be posting a new chapter every week, just for convieniece so you can know. A Hero Rises
  11. Special thanks to Shattered Mask Productions for this banner. Note from the author: The series of epics that I’ll give you will tell why I’m called The Forgotten One A Hero Rises Review Table of Contents: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Prologue 100,000 years ago… In the outskirts of an ancient city, lies a forest that few people venture into. Here we find a Matoran camp set up by a group of nomadic Ta-Matoran. Their chief calls them all to the center of the camp where a fire burns. The chief’s name is Mathez. He bears a bronze Kanohi Kualsi, with a warrior blade on his left hand and a fire/ lava ball combination. A daring yet companionate leader, “My fellow Matoran,” he says in a booming voice. “On this very night, he left our shattered city to seek a new life. So tonight, let us celebrate with the memorial of our fallen brethren and continue to have peace and prosperity for all.” As they all cheer and party, one Matoran walks the outside the border of the city. “I get no respect from my fellow Matoran, and now they want to party. Not even a thank you for what I do, just so we can stay alive. What kind of a leader is Mathez trying to be?” His name is Kathis. He’s the tribe’s blacksmith. He bears a Kanohi Arthron with two flame staffs. He’s always seems to get little to no respect from the other Matoran. He feels more at home wandering the border of their camp, wondering what may be out there. Due to his armor, which makes him more agile, they always call him “Long Legs” every time someone comes to his hut. “Every day, I wonder if there were any survivors of the attack, if any one searches for us.” Someone comes up behind him and says, “I always wonder the same thing too.” He turns around to see Mathez, his leader. “Mathez, I didn’t hear you coming.” “It’s all right; I won’t punish you for going out here at night.” He looks at him in amazement, “You won’t?” “No. I know how you feel ever since our city fell. We lost a lot of brothers and sisters back then; but that’s all in the past. Rejoice yourself and come celebrate with us.” “Okay.” They start walking back to the city. “By the way how long did you know I was going outside the camp?” “Ever since you started.” As near the border of the camp, they see something fall from the sky. Kathis spots it first. “Look, a shooting star.” Kathis says with amazement. “If it’s a shooting star, then why is it coming down to the planet?” A loud roar rips through the sky. As the “star” comes down with a crashing boom. The sound can be heard for miles away, as the pair hurry to the camp. The “star” crashes down on a plateau just twenty miles from the Matoran. As the Matoran reach the square, they break the news to the entire tribe.
  12. This is a talkback for the epic We Are Young, which I initially wrote taking inspiration for the theme "Being the Oldest Child" from my blog entry about NEWTs. In many ways, this is my testament to everything that high school was to me, and to the song "We Are Young," which has turned into an anthem for one of the best years of my life. It's also uses characters and a setting I invented for a short story I wrote in my freshman year. The nostalgia factor is high, and I hope that I can regularly write about everyday things over the course of the plot I have set out for this. I can't guarantee that this will be long, and this was intended to be a short story at first, so we'll see how it turns out. Meanwhile, enjoy short, easy to read chapters and a slice of that good old thing called life. 24601
  13. Chapter 1: Rob Macker NO ONE WAS ALLOWED TO WEAR HATS IN SCHOOL, NO EXCEPTIONS. Exception: Rob Macker. Yes, my friends, he was simply that cool. He would walk into class with a Twin Cities cap on, and while perhaps the teachers had motioned to indicate their objection when he was a freshman, by the time that first year was over they stopped even thinking about it because it was hard to imagine Rob without his hat, and they had to agree that he was indeed quite cool. Everybody knew it. People who had never met him knew it. The formula for coolness and success started with athletics, for which Robert covered all the bases, starting with baseball in the summer, cross country in the fall, basketball in the winter, and sprinting for the track team in the spring. After that came good grades, great parents, a nice house that he could invite friends over to, and plenty of friends to invite over. You might now suspect that this is a story about how in spite all of these things Rob still had some deep internal problem, that underneath it all there would be something depressing to talk about. This is in fact a false presumption. He was happy with what he had and stood as one of the rare few who lived a very good life. His senior year thus far was awesome, and though he knew he would miss it sorely once he went off to college, at least it wasn't the climax of his life. No, the real problem in this story belonged to someone else. The first scene for this story takes place in the workshop, where Rob was fixing up a blown out engine. It wasn't homework, but a hobby. He always had an interest for this stuff and had leaped ahead in it, figuring that working with engines first would give him a head start in understanding some of the intuitive basics when working with engineering. It was a nice upgrade from Legos. Yet, it was more than just a hobby. This was what he did before cross country practice in order to earn money. His leather jacket was hanging up on the rack and he was wearing stained coveralls. His running clothes were nearby. This would have to be quick. It would start in five minutes. He began unzipping his coveralls. Ruby, the new girl who came in a two weeks after the start of school, came into the workshop. She had long, dark brunette hair that was always held up by a red ribbon and conservative attire, although the nice girl image didn't conceal her quirkiness. "Oi! 'Ello, guvna!" "OI!" replied Rob, except louder, and more zealous. "Whatchya dooooin'?" she asked. "Finishing up," said Rob. "Same stuff as I'm always doing here. The real question is, what are you doing around here?" "Oh, I'm just asking for help with my American History," she said. "Let me guess. You're currently covering colonial times, and you're at around the founding of Georgia, or just maybe at the French and Indian War." "I'm at the French and Indian War," she said. "And a ton of other stuff. The book keeps talking about crazy things on the home front and it goes into ridiculous detail. I just need a study partner, and you're...really smart." Rob grabbed his running shorts and hopped behind the car, where he changed out of sight. "That's very nice, but I have a college Calc II test coming up that I have to study for, and I'll be off in a few minutes to get running. At the front of the pack. There are plenty of other smart people out there, especially people who are already in your year. If I recall, my brother, Craig, looked through the book I used last year and just about memorized the whole thing. His genius in the area can only have increased now that this is his second time through." Already, he was changed. He got out from in front of the car and jogged past Ruby to get through the other area of the shop and to through the class room and through the locker room and out into the hallway. It was a confusing and odd setup. This was hands down the weirdest place in the building, but then it was also the oldest. Ruby ran with him. "Hey, wait, will you be hanging out after school? I really need somebody's help. Any of your guys will do!" Rob stopped for a moment and faced Ruby, looking over her. He took off his hat and placed it on her head. "I'll be hanging out with friends after school, and you're going to hang out with us, if only to give me back my hat," said Rob. "I simply cannot hang out without my hat." "Do you sleep with this thing on, Rob?" she asked. The way she was looking up at him was just so comical, in part because she was officially The Girl in Rob's Hat. That title would change anyone presence considerably. "As a matter of fact, I do," said Rob, and he ran off. Talkback
  14. Here is the review topic for my epic. I'd like some criticism etc and whatnot. Obviously this is non-cannon, and follows my own storyline that veered off from the two Old Republic games, with an interesting twist. Epic here.
  15. Link to Review here! Star Wars: Rise of the Dark Lords Prologue The year is 3,955 BBY. Twenty three years after Darth Revan disappeared into the Unknown Regions of space. After Darth Malak was defeated by Revan, and Revan disappeared, the title of Dark Lord remained untaken. That is until Darth Veldrin, A student of Revan, took to power. Darth Veldrin ruled right after Malak and his reign last for twenty years until he was betrayed by his own son, Darth Vith; who ended his father’s life.Darth Vith took his father’s place as Dark Lord. Darth Vith continues to hold the remains of the Sith Empire Revan forged. But the Empire was greatly weakened by the Republic and is all but scattered; few Sith show themselves on planets other than their own. But someone is coming. A new Dark Lord who will unite the Sith, and bring chaos to the galaxy. Chapter One: Into the Void Cemeron did not need too concentrate as he piloted his starship: the Ebon Hawk. Flying was like second nature to him, it did not require much thought. His old Dynamic-class freighter had been through quite a bit in the passed years. It had survived dangerous happenings like spice runs and space battles. But Cemeron trusted his vessel with his life.As he navigated through space he avoided incoming asteroids with delicate skill. His brow furrowed as the rocky outcroppings race past his ship. It seemed that they almost grazed the blast-glass before him; which protects him from the void of space beyond.He wasn’t far from the red world of Korriban; however, he had miss-judged a few hyperspace calculations and ended up further from the planet as he had wished; landing in an asteroid field.But asteroids did not really bother Cemeron; he was a veteran pilot and well versed with space travel. Cemeron’s dark eyes widened with shock as his ship started to shake wildly. Asteroids jumbled in a crazed sort of semi-dance, outside the Ebon Hawk. He had never seen them move like that in his entire life.He flicked random switches trying to stabilize whatever was causing the strange motion. Suddenly all the stars seemed to black out; consuming Cemeron in pitch black darkness. Likewise, the Ebon Hawk groaned and lost power, shaking even more then before.Cemeron’s droid companion stumbled into the cock-pit. “Query: What’s going on?” he said in his synthesized voice; which was hinting frustration.In return Cemeron grinded his teeth. “I have no idea HK, but this does not look good…” his words trailed off as the space around him lit up with radiant energy. Purple plasma shot out in all directions, melting asteroids in micro-seconds. Cemeron watched as more purple plasma formed lightning type tendrils that sliced through rock and metal like lightsabers to flesh.HK-47 was an old droid. He stood about six feet tall and was covered in orange and red armored plating. He had two glowing red eyes, a helmet looking face and a thin remotely human, orange plated body. HK had come with the ship, which Cemeron had bought from an alien dealer on Tatooine some years ago.The alien dealer had told Cemeron that the ship was ancient and had been through tons of battle. According to the dealer it had once belonged to Darth Revan, and the famous Jedi Exile.Cemeron had bought the ship because of the Darth Revan part. Cemeron had fought alongside Revan in the Mandalorian wars and respected him; that and the ship was supposedly the fastest in the Outer Rim region.HK-47 watched in what seemed to be fascination. Moments after, all the remaining asteroids shot forward toward where the purple plasma seemed to be emanating. Cemeron gasped in horror as he finally realized what he was looking at. The looming purple mass of electricity and swirling plasma was actually a giant black-hole. It seemed to be a tear in space itself; and Cemeron knew he was powerless against a force that powerful. Already his ship was moving steadily closer to it. He frantically flipped switches, trying to get the Ebon Hawk to power up, but it was useless.The world around Cemeron seemed to slow around him; his ship was a tiny ant compared to the massive disk of energy. All that could be heard was the crackling of plasma and the shuddering of metal.He accepted his fate and turned to his droid. “Strap in and shut-up.” he said darkly.HK’s robotic limbs whirred as he clanked over to the co-pilot’s seat and sat down. He fiddled with the seat-belt. “Statement: Yes master, meat-bag-sir” he replied sarcastically for a droid. Cemeron slammed his fist into the control panel. “Blast it all! I came to Korriban to learn to be a Sith and all I found was a giant death trap!” he said letting his anger pour out. He directed his anger toward the Jedi. Cemeron hated the Jedi because a Jedi had slaughtered his wife.Cemeron’s blast-glass frosted over and blocked out the epic view beyond. The angered Sephi looked into the tiny icy crystals reflecting his face. He was a haunted looking individual. Cemeron had long white hair, pulled into a smooth pony tail that fell down his back. He had a square jaw, and a crooked nose, that gave him a warrior's appearance. He had the customary long pointed ears of the Sephi, which differed them from humans.Cemeron stood at 6’4’’ and weighed 210 pounds of muscle. He had a sleek, but well toned body; one that was hardened by military service. His chest back and shoulders are quite scarred from battles.He turned away seeming disgusted that the face he was staring into, his own, would never get revenge. He was never going to become a Sith and destroy all those that had ruined his old life. An eerie purple glow filled the ship, and energy crackled everywhere, Cemeron looked as the tiny hairs on his arms stood on end. He cried out as the energy grew hotter, and more powerful, almost blinding. I’m going to be boiled alive! He thought before his mind-overloaded, and could no-longer comprehend what was going on around him.The Ebon Hawk disappeared into the deaths of the black-hole. A few moments after it was consumed, the portal seemed to shrink, and collapse in on itself; before it finally ceased to exist, in a flash of white light. All that it left behind was nothingness, just empty space. The stars winked back to life, revealing where the asteroid field once was, not even the pebble sized rocks had survived the black hole, nothing was left... Chapter Two: Crash-landings Never Feel Good HK-47 had been through his share of crashes before, so this was nothing new to him. His memory banks recalled crashing on the unknown world of the Rakata, Telos, and Malachor IV. His red eye beams snapped to life and his mechanical head swiveled. HK took in the surrounding cock-pit without saying a single word. The glass before him was cracked and broken, and a man sized hole dominated it.HK noticed that Cemeron was not present and his seat lay unbuckled; like usual. Shuddering pipes stuck out of the broken wall panels and lights turned on and off. Dark smoke poured from somewhere within the ship and electricity crackled over broken machinery. There was a metallic scream then a loud clunk as T3-M4 flew into the cockpit; sparkling with electricity and spewing droid-parts.HK tried to unbuckle himself to help his astromech droid companion, when he discovered his left arm was nothing but a sparking nub. The rest of his arm had been sliced right off and lost among the other scrap metal; that was now the ship. HK let out the closest thing he could to a sigh, and used his right appendage to free himself of his bonds.HK banged T3-M4 on his dome head before climbing out of the cock-pit. He slid down the front of the ship sliding right through a fire and singing his bottom. HK landed on the ground and a cloud of red dust plumed into the air. HK locked onto Cemeron’s position. He laid in the dirt a few feet away from the ship, submerged in a mound of red earth. HK clanked over to his master and poked him with a metal finger. “Commentary: Master, are you still functional?” he asked without emotion.Cemeron saw the face of Chrystal, his wife. She was smiling widely; her large red lips reflecting the bright twin suns of Thustra. Cemeron knelt by her and caressed her right cheek. Her skin felt cool to his touch and he hungered to hold her in his arms. He smiled for the first time in a long time; it was good to be back home. He looked away from her beautiful face; to stare at the scenery around him. He was standing on a tall balcony overlooking a glistening lake and fields of green. It felt like he had not been back in many years, but it still felt of home.Chrystal rubbed against him, her body soft against his own. Her angelic voice broke the silence. “What worries you?” she asked.Cemeron shrugged. “Something just feels… wrong” he admitted.Suddenly he felt a horrid pain in his back, like someone shoved a metal pole into his spine. He cried out and his eyes flashed to Chrystal. “Commentary: Master, are you still functional?” she asked in the voice of HK-47.Cemeron’s eyes snapped open and he groaned. His body hurt all over, almost like the ship had fallen atop him. He could feel his warm blood gushing out of several areas of his body; wetting the dirt around him. He tried to push up with one of his arms but searing pain shot through him and he fell back down into the dirt. He turned his gaze to his arm and froze, his arm was twisted horribly and one of his bones stuck through his skin like a knife. Cemeron feared he was going to bleed to death, he called out, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “HK, yes I am alive. Go get the Med-kit before I bleed to death!” he groaned.Cemeron looked down to see his arms slashed apart all over, huge pieces of glass sticking out of his skin. He moaned and then felt like he was about to puke. Suddenly the air left his lungs as he was lifted off the ground. He looked down and realized that he was somehow levitating. He struggled and looked around for the source of what had just happened. All he could see was the world around him. It was strange and ghostlike. The sky, dirt and rock were all red. The clouds whizzed by at alarming speeds; changing into strange shapes and writhing about, the strangest part was that they were pitch black. There was no sun, only a strange black ball of energy that seemed to move around of its own accord.A distant speckle of blue light slowly approached. As it drew nearer, it seemed to appear the shape of a humanoid; it was hard to miss as it was a stark contrast to all the red and black. The figure seemed to be floating above the soil, and it winked in and out of existence. But suddenly it seemed to take solid shape and features. A massive man stood before Cemeron, his gloved hand outstretched as if he was holding Cemeron up with his own fist.The stranger wore an ancient set of golden, spiked armor that was crusted with the blood, of what Cemeron assumed were enemies. He wore a matching tall helmet type contraption that made him over eight feet tall. He was huge and built like a Wookie. The man had two dark brows and beneath them never-ending glowing red eyes. He wore a small oiled black beard and a menacing grin. He looked Manock-**** crazy. Cemeron could not look away from his eyes; those eyes; they seem to lead into another universe…he thought.The armored figure spoke his voice chilling Cemeron to the bone. It sounded ancient and full of dark power. “At last you have come… We have been waiting for you Cemeron, for some time...” he said ominously. Cemeron felt a strange tingling sensation throughout his body and his pain ebbed and finally dispersed, replaced by a faint itchy feeling. Cemeron dropped from the air landing on his knees; he instantly went into a fighting stance, ready for anything.“Where am I?” he asked.The powerful man replied. “All will be revealed in time,” he cackled. “time… what is time, really? It does not truly exist; just a simple concept, a delusion…” he trailed off.“Who are you?” Cemeron asked.“Ah yes. I am Naga Sadow. Welcome to the Shadow Realm, or commonly The Void” Naga said.Cemeron had known of Naga Sadow, he was credited as one of the most powerful Dark Lords ever. He bowed right away.“That is impossible you died long ago.” he said.Naga Sadow chuckled. “Yes I died once, as did we all. That is how we came to The Void. Except for you of course, you came through the Black Hole we created.” he said. Cemeron stood.“We?” he said.Naga Sadow nodded. “All of the greatest Dark Lords and other sith ended up in The Void. This place is within the Force itself. It is the embodiment of the Dark Side. When a sith becomes one with the Force it is here that they appear.”Cemeron could not believe what he was hearing: Is this really true… Could I be dreaming? Or dead? He thought bitterly, unable to accept this fate. Naga Sadow as if he head Cemeron’s thoughts shook his head. “No, you live. That is for sure. We need you Cemeron; you see, without you and our teaching, our ways will slowly die, consumed by the Jedi; the force would become horribly unbalanced. You are the only hope of our ancient ways. We must form you into the new Dark Lord; if all our deeds are to not be forgotten” he said.Cemeron shook his head. “There already is a Dark Lord. Darth Vith.” He said.Sadow nodded. “Yes, but you are the one we seek. If Vith stays in power than the Empire will continue to crumble until nothing is left. You must stop him, you must rekindle the Dark Side.” He said. Naga Sadow put a gloved hand on Cemeron’s shoulder.“Out of a galaxy of souls, it was you that had the greatest urging, the greatest hatred for the Jedi. We have never felt anything like you before. Your force powers are so immense, they rival even mine, but you can only access a smidgen of your full potential. You could become the greatest Dark Lord that ever lived, and you will. Now swear loyalty to me and the rest of the Dark Lords and you will take your first step toward your true destiny!” he said his voice rattling the ground beneath Cemeron.Cemeron knelt before Naga Sadow. “Yes master, I swear loyalty to and the Sith.” he said, his voice full of dark passion.“Good... Good! Now rise; from hence forth you will be known as...” Naga Sadow replied.Naga Sadow then closed his red orbs; revealing his black eyelids. He seemed to meditate for an instant before finishing. “Darth Void!” he said.Cemeron felt a burning above his brow as he felt strange symbols appearing on his face. Cemeron stood; I’m Darth Void now… he thought. He looked to Naga Sadow; who then put a hand on Cemeron’s brow. “Now we must go…” he said.There was a flash of turquoise light and they were gone from where they stood. HK-47 finally emerged from the ship and looked around awkwardly. “Annoyed observation: Master? Where are y--” suddenly he too disappeared, letting the medical-kit drop too the red sand…
  16. This is the review page to my epic I wrote several years ago titled The Elementals....All comments and questions can be placed here. I'll be sure to post links to each section of my story. Thank you! part #1:http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=7347&p=440299 part #2:http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=7900&p=475897 part #3:http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=7900&p=478668 part #4:http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=7900&p=479229
  17. Author's Note: This was based upon an old story I wrote when I was a kid. This serves as another reboot to the story of the Gunsmith, and a chance bring back some old characters I haven't used in a long time. The Reganade Chronicles: A Prodigy Table of Contents: Chapter 1: Prices to Pay Link to Review: http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=8045 Chapter 1: A being with dark red and gold armor ran through the forest under the blackened skies, with two white moons and numerous, shining stars providing their light to guide the way of those traveling through the night. Running for his life, the mysterious being used his control over fire to light his path, helping him see better. He wasn’t a being of earth, and thus, was not given the ability to see perfectly fine through the night. The being was what the people of his world called a Toa, a heroic being blessed with control over a certain element, along with a mask known as a Kanohi to grant him access to more powers to aid him in battle. His name was Tahukama, a powerful Toa of Fire. He looked back to see if what was chasing him was gone or not. Sadly for him, the beasts chasing him continued to pursue the Toa. Thinking quickly, he created two spheres of golden flames in the palms of his hands, and quickly came to a halt. He faced the charging beasts and threw the hot balls of fire at the monstrous beings, hoping to stop them in their tracks, giving him enough time to escape. To his luck, the beasts in the front were hit by the fireballs, and caused them to combust into flames. The stopped chasing the Toa, and halted the whole pack while they panicked. The beasts weren’t exactly the most intelligent of monsters. The Toa sighed in relief and ran off while the chaos ensued; he had to find his potential prodigy. However, the leader of this pack of beasts took note of the Toa escaping, and growled with rage. The pack leader tossed aside the other members of the pack with his mighty strength, and followed the mighty warrior, whom was already far away from the distracted pack. The Toa of Fire made his way out of the forest and found himself at a sandy shore, with the dark blue waters crashing down onto the beach. He saw it, his boat, it wasn’t that big, but large enough to hold two Toa and some previsions. He sighed in relief when he saw the sight of the small vessel. He ran towards it, only to be stopped when a huge beast pounced upon his back. The Toa of Fire was slammed into the golden sand, hearing the sound of a snake hissing. The hissing came from the monster that just pummeled him. He turned his focus on the monster and recognized the terrifying beast, “Barok…” Tahukama muttered, “That name no longer has meaning, I am known as Bonar, fool,” the monster known as Bonar hissed. He placed his claw on the beast on the head of the warrior and shoved it into the sand. The Toa squirmed, trying to get free from the monster’s tight grip, and to stop having so much weight on his back. “It’s no use brother, Darix wants your head,” Bonar said as his used his claw as a vice on the Toa, slowly crushing it. The Toa, though in pain, managed to draw out his sword and sliced the free claw of Bonar, causing the beast to scream and hiss, letting go of the Toa. Tahukama quickly got to his feet and ran off to the boat. The monster hissed as he grabbed the claw and stuck it back to his wrist, with cables and skin reconnecting together to reattach the claw that was cut off, “Nice try Tahukama, but blades won’t work on me,” Bonar said with a menacing chuckle as the armor and skin on his unusual large lower arms stretched and opened up, as two twin axes came from the skin and bone of this beast, one from the left, and one from the right. They came out with some sort of fluid covering them, dropping to the sand with the heads pointed to the ground. He grabbed the axes and hissed as he charged at the Toa with great speed. The Toa of Fire faced the blunt side of the sword to protect him from the swinging axes. Though the sword protected the Toa, the force of the axe caused him to lose his ground and send him flying a few yards away. He grimaced as he got up slowly, using his sword to help him up. But he wasn’t given a chance to recover, as Bonar started to charge again, axes still in his claws. The Toa of Fire quickly jumped away from the monster at the last moment before they would make contact, and rolled away to the water, quickly getting up, and sharply turned towards the beast so his back was never facing the monster. After all, scars on the back are a swordsman’s shame, “Trust me, and heed my words,” Tahukama said as he slowly inched towards his boat, “This, “evolution” as you and your kind call it is nonexistent, it isn’t evolution, its corruption, not moving forward,” “You see though, we were once renegades, hungry for power, and now we have it,” Bonar said, “We have achieved powers beyond our wildest dreams,” “At what cost?! Becoming these… mutations?! Experiments? Just for power? Barok, this power is artificial, it will come back to ruin your life,” Tahukama stated, “MY NAME IS NO LONGER BAROK!” Bonar growled, releasing a ear-piercing roar, “I am Bonar! Leader of the Virus Mutants! I can kill a Toa such as you in a matter of minutes!” “Well,” Tahukama chuckled as he was almost at the boat, “I’m afraid you statement is false, as you see, I’m still living and breathing,” “I don’t need your snarky remarks Tahukama!” Bonar yelled as he charged at the Toa. But luck and fate were being kind and merciful for the Toa of Fire, as he managed to cast off, moments before the monster made it towards him. As the monster made it to the water he went to a full stop. His mutation had made him unable to swim. He looked at the water and then watched the Toa of Fire sail off, while the monster hissed and then growled yet again, “I curse you Tahukama to the deep and chaotic parts of Karzahni!” Bonar yelled to the Toa sailing off. Tahukama heard the beast yell at him, but all he did was give a hardy laugh. He rowed his boat out into the sea, while the moons and stars provided some light, not as much as the two suns, but it was enough to help him keep an eye out for any obstacles. He sighed, the past 10 years had brought to much change… his whole team was disbanded for two reasons. One reason was because some of them died, while the rest, like Darix and Barok (Or, Bonar now), had become mutations, lead by his old co-leader, Darix. Too much had changed, at one point, he and his team treated each other like family, now, the rest of his team mates that were still alive, wanted Tahukama dead. He couldn’t keep escaping death, he had to find someone to take his place. Three days pass… Meanwhile, on a small, relatively unknown island, an auction was going on. This island was home to thugs and pirates, and home to the black market. What was being auctioned? A Toa of Water, a White Ash bear (extremely hard to come by), a Toa of Stone, and a Ta-Matoran who was unlucky enough to be a part of an invasion in the Southern Continents that happened not a few weeks ago. The Ta-Matoran’s name was Zacax. He was minding his own business in his blacksmith shop when some rogue Toa came and invaded the small village and kidnapped several matoran who were already auctioned off two days ago, leaving him left. The auctions here on this island went to ways. If you were sold, that’s luck, but if no one buys you, you get killed and your armor is placed on the black market or smelted into metal. His body shook, causing the sound of metal clanking. His feet were cuffed and so were his hands, with chains that were attached to the cuffs and attached to the platform. The Toa seemed calm on the outside, though this was simply a cover to hide their fears, and the white ash bear was growing antsy and wasn’t comfortable being held back by chains. “Alright then,” a voice said to the crowd. The voice belonged to a rogue Toa of Iron, who walked onto the stand with sacs of widgets and gold tied to his waist, which you could hear the sound of coins and metal shaking and swaying in the bag as he walked, “These are our last items for auction. Two Toa, a White Ash Bear and the last Matoran from one of our recent raids, let’s start with the rahi,” The ash bear roared in rage when it was pointed out. “A rare beast we found in the icy regions of the Southern Continents,” the Toa said as he gestured his hand to the white Rahi, “Do I hear 500 widgets?” Zacax gulped when he saw the multitude of hands and claws reached into the sky for a moment. He turned his head and heard the sound of laughing coming from the rogue Toa. Well…this is gonna be good… The matoran thought. In only a matter of minutes, the price was raised to a whooping 15,000 widgets. After that mark, no one else would raise the price any higher, and the bear was sold to a green and gunmetal Skakdi, he was the one who raised the price to 15,000, and apparently had the cash to pay the price. “Now, how about this fine lass?” the rogue Toa of Iron asked as he gestured to the Toa of Water. By the end the price was 20,000 and the Toa of Water was sold to a Toa of Fire. Then, came the time auction off Zacax, “Next, this small Ta-Matoran of Fire! We found him in a blacksmith shop so might be of use! Do I hear 100 widgets?” the Toa of Iron asked, The crowd was silent. Usually, the last Matoran to them was worthless if he was the last one left, despite the information given to them by the one auctioning him or her off. The poor matoran only shakes even more, he didn’t see a single hand raise up. Until, he saw a small hand in the air, “100 widgets! Going once… Going twice,” the Toa of Iron said as he waited for more response. But after a minute of waiting, no one else responded, “Sold to the cloaked…eh…person!” The Toa of Iron said as the cloaked being approached the platform. The cloaked being handed the Toa of Iron the money, while some Skakdi undid the chains and cuffs that prevented the Matoran from escape. To be honest, Zacax prefers being sold as a slave to being turned into scrap. The cloaked being grabbed Zacax's wrist and pulled him off stage. The cloaked figure lead the Matoran through the crowd, who were now bidding on the final "item" of the day, the Toa of Stone. The being made it to a reasonably sized boat, it had no sail, and seemed to run on some source of energy. The cloaked being looked at Zacax and grabbed the matoran's right arm with both hands and tossed him aboard the boat. The blacksmith known as Zacax fell flat on his face as he made impact with the boat, his entire body felt loads of pain as he tried to stand on his feet. The cloaked being lept onto the boat with such grace and landed on the main deck, showing no sign of pain, nor were the legs bent. "W-who are you?" Zacax asked as he managed to get to his feet. The cloaked being took off the coal that concealed her identity, as she revealed herself as a beautiful Toa of Lighting, "My name is Toa Akora, Toa of Lightning," the Toa revealed herself as, "You are my newest slave," The Matoran gulped, "Great... Uh... Where are we going to?" Zacax asked nervously, "Back to my home," she said as she walked to what appeared to be a trap door. She opened it to reveal the brig of the ship, and quickly went to grab Zacax by his arm, and proceeded to toss him into the brig and shuts the trap door. The room was dimly lit by a single torch, it had a few puddles and cob webs, and seemed to go on and on, despite the ship not being that big in size. He gulped in fear, wondering what would come to his life next.
  18. All right. So this is the review topic for the Madness and Mayhem epic.EDIT: Due to my absent mindedness, I forgot the crucial words. Can someone edit it for me?OK, so this may be seen as me trying to hang on to someone's coattails, but this was already written some time ago in a fit of boredom.And it's set in an alternate universe, although some basic mechanics are the same.So, here's the main epic.First chapter, part one is up.
  19. Friar Tuck vs Microsnipe Joske Nimil, Toa of Fire vs Utu, Toa of Ice and Mark Bearer of Fear Place your wagers!
  20. Welcome to the Story Submission Topic for the Expanded Multiverse, the noncanon collection of fan-created content intended to be freely available for any fan to use. This topic is where you can link to stories you have written involving the Expanded Multiverse. Either taking place in it, or using characters/objects/etc. from it.Note that anything you submit in this topic is submitted as fanon freeware to the Expanded Multiverse, just as if you had entered a contest. Any characters or whatnot in these stories won't get into any guides we'll produce or anything, but you still give up exclusive rights to the content, for the record.Here is the old Story Submission topic on the archived forum (auto-logout warning); go there to read many older fan-submitted stories!NOTICE: If you have finished a story, please post again to let us know it's done; finished stories will be linked in the new Official EM Reference Topic, here!
  21. The Chronicles of Karzahni book one: Duel of Destiny Karzahni stood on a hill, observing his vast realm. He shook with anger with the memory of the events of the day before. He and his brother, Artakha, had been informed by the Great Being Angonce that they were to do battle over a Kanohi mask of great power. He had been shocked, as had Artakha, that the Great Beings would ever ask that they fight, but the mask was apparently a prize worth combat, and the winner would receive it. So he and Artakha had readied themselves for battle, both prepared to prove that they were the better of the two, and to achieve the coveted Mask of Creation. The battle was ferocious, with both himself and his brother hesitant at first, then going at each other with all they had. Karzahni himself had been the one to strike first, though not physically, he had activated his mask power, and given Artakha a vision of losing the battle, with Karzahni as the victor, and Artakha left behind in shame. After the vision had reached the point where the Matoran respected and trusted Karzahni and despised Artakha, however, Karzahni wasn’t sure what would come next, and the vision became less and less believable. It wasn’t long after that before Artakha realized the illusion, and returned his mind to reality. Then, the fight was on. Karzahni began swinging his flaming chains, while Artakha charged, swinging with his blunt, yet powerful and threatening warhammer. Karzahni at first managed to dodge a few of Artakha’s swings, managing to strike Artakha with his chains when he had the opportunity, but Artakha had become tired of this, and now began swinging with deadly accuracy. Karzahni knew that he could not match his brother in physical strength, so he tried even more desperately to evade Artakha’s attacks, and weaken him by slashing him with his chains. Karzahni’s desperate tactics were unsuccessful, however, and Artakha quickly closed the gap between them, finally landing a hard blow on Karzahni’s leg as Karzahni tried to dodge. This was the beginning of the end of the fight. Karzahni spun around and put up a furious resistance, but it was over, Artakha struck again and again, with Karzahni on the ground, trying to roll out of the way, and failing. Karzahni had taken some serious damage, but wasn’t ready to give up that mask yet, he kicked Artakha’s legs out from beneath him and slashed Artakha’s face with his chain while returning to his feet. Karzahni began furiously hacking at his brother with his chains, the fight was personal now, it was no longer just about the mask, it was about him, and Artakha, Karzahni wasn’t going to let Artakha leave when he surrendered, he was going to kill him. Artakha saw the look of madness filling Karzahni’s eyes as Karzahni relentlessly struck again and again with his chains. Artakha knew that Karzahni was angry, furious, and he knew that he had to save himself, he wondered if he would be able to beat Karzahni when he was like this. Artakha also worried that, in order to win, he might have to kill Karzahni. Karzahni was blindly slashing and hacking now, roaring insanely. Artakha wasn’t sure what had driven him to such an uncontrollable state of rage, but now that this was happening, he needed to fight back. Karzahni, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking about any of this, he was just thinking about how Artakha had been privileged with creative talent and abilities, while he was gifted with nothing. He was thinking about how Artakha was stronger than he, and surely the Great Beings must have known this. They had wanted Artakha to win, he was sure. Now, Artakha had gotten him onto the ground, rolling around in the dirt, trying to dodge his hammer, he wouldn’t stand for it! With these thoughts of anger, hatred and fury swirling around in his mind, Karzahni ripped and tore at Artakha with his claws and chains, reaching out with the power of his mask to terrorize Artakha with the most nightmarish vision his mind would allow, and his mind would allow for some pretty freaky things. Artakha fought back, resisting the vision and using his advantage of strength to force Karzahni back, so that Artakha would have room to return to his feet. Karzahni began screaming with rage, at this, and increased his attack with his chains, and with his mind. Karzahni’s mental attack, now, was so strong that for Artakha it was entwined with reality, making it difficult to focus, to understand what was going on, and to fight. Artakha took a desperate swipe with his hammer, and the hammer impacted Karzahni’s torso, sending him flying a few feet back. Artakha returned to his feet just in time to be able to defend against Karzahni’s attack, as Karzahni charged forward once again, claws slashing, chains flailing. Artakha deflected his attack, then kicked him back, as Karzahni came charging once again, Artakha performed one of his most devastating maneuvers, he did a full 360 degree spin for momentum, and brought his hammer up as he reached the point where he was facing Karzahni once more. The hammer connected with Karzahni’s jaw in one of the most powerful uppercuts ever to be performed in the Matoran universe. Karzahni was sent flying upward and a few feet back. Karzahni landed with a thud in the dirt, and before he could stand, Artakha ran forward and performed another move, similar to the one he had just used, but this time, he brought the hammer down on Karzahni versus bringing it up toward his chin. Karzahni crashed to the ground, struck by Artakha’s hammer, just as he was beginning to stand. Karzahni,managed to move into a sitting position, his rage now entwined with fear, and Artakha struck him in the chest with the hammer, sending him flying. Karzahni scooted himself back, trying to escape his brother’s hammer. Karzahni was now shouting at Artakha, “Stop! No! Aaaggg-ugh. I surrender, I surrender!” Artakha stopped, hammer held over his head in preparation for another strike. Angonce walked over from where he had been watching a couple hundred feet away. He held out the Mask of Creation to Artakha, and announced, “You are the victor, and have fairly won the Mask of Creation and the right to wear it. Take it, and use it wisely.” Artakha held out his hand and received the Kanohi. Angonce then turned to Karzahni and spoke, “You have lost, you may now honorably return to you realm.” With that, Angonce walked away, and that was the last of him Karzahni ever saw. Karzahni had returned to his realm, and that’s where he stood now. He sighed, he knew it was pointless to constantly remember things of the past that brought only hatred and anger to his mind, but still, he thought, someday, I will have my revenge, and my brother shall pay. Karzahni turned away, and began stepping down the hill, the time for his revenge was not yet, and he knew that it may be a long time before he could have his vengeance, and in the meantime, he had made his realm a place for Matoran to come to be repaired, so repair them he would, and he would do so to the best of his ability for the thousands of years to come until he could have his revenge.________________________________________________________________________________Comments, critisizm, and such all greatly appreciated.Review topic
  22. Cute, funny, and heartwarming, the timeless love of Lois and Clark has entertained generations of readers and viewers and provided the definitive example of the archetypal conflicts and challenges of love between humanity and its champion. There have been many interpretations on the meaning of such an affair; this is but one. For its surprising relatability and fantasy-like charm, but above all for its uncompromising humanity, it has reached many people and stayed in their hearts. It is therefore this author's way of celebrating over seventy years of love by creating his own take on the timeless tale. He hopes you enjoy reading it as much as he enjoyed writing it.24601
  23. On The Planet's Roof LOIS SCURRIED DOWN FROM THE ROOF. Some heads turned. Everyone seemed to notice her excitement, save for Clark, who was too busy working on his economics article to take note. She sat down in her desk directly across from him and typed on her computer with a satisfied smile. The rapid sound of keys filled the otherwise silent room for a full minute...........Clark finally looked up. "Lois, do you want me to proofread your work?".........."What? No," said Lois. Of course not. This was too good for anyone to see until she was done...........Clark leaned over the desk space between them. Lois stopped smiling and glared at him. "I've never seen you so enthusiastic to work. Wasn't your normal typing rate forty words per minute last I checked?"..........Lois let her hands rest. "Clark, you'll find out later. Let's just say I scored gold on something.".........."On the rooftop?"..........Lois eyed him. Clark was the most mild-mannered reporter she knew, and yet there was no one else on Earth more frustrating. Although she could tell that the curiosities of other reporters had been piqued the moment she entered the office, only Clark seemed to have the guts to press any questions...........She held her tongue for a beat, or rather, her lower lip, which she tucked under her upper teeth as she eyed Clark. "Yes, on the roof." No point in denying that much..........."You must have seen something pretty incredible," said Clark..........."Yep. Sure did," said Lois. She returned to her typing, yet she maintained eye contact with Clark in some sort of staring contest..........."Whatever it was, given your spelling problems, which are already terrible, you're probably going to misspell half your words at this rate," said Clark...........Lois briefly broke the staring context to look down at her screen. Sure enough, half the words were underlined in red squiggles. Bullocks. "I have spell-check on my side," she said..........."You might still want some peer revision," said Clark..........."Nope. I have Chief to do that for me," said Lois, almost bursting at this point as she switched from the defense to her normal prideful state. Clark only responded with the facial equivalent of a shrug...........From the other end of the office, editor-in chief Perry White rang out "Don't call me 'Chief!'"..........Lois and Clark looked around and froze for a moment. As animation returned to their bodies, they turned back to each other and for a moment, neither saying nor expressing anything. Then, in unison, they laughed...........When Clark regained his composure, he sighed and returned to his work. "I admire you ability to multitask, by the way."..........Lois smiled to herself as she continued to write her article at top speeds. For whatever reason - she didn't understand why - it wasn't a smirk, but a real smile, the same she had felt come to her eyes when she was on the rooftop. "Thanks," she said...........When she glanced up, Clark was back at his work, adjusting his glasses and reading over his economics report. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled, or at least tried. Suddenly she was struck at how sad he looked. "It's just something I wish I could do better."..........Clark returned to focus, but Lois was almost certain she saw him give something of himself away. She knew it was none of her business, but she was a reporter. She took note on everything. Clark was more complex than people gave him credit for. Most people were, as a general principle. Lois stopped typing as new curiosities popped into her mind. Her article could wait...........She averted her eyes away from Clark now and opened up a new document, the one where she kept a list of all her unanswered questions. She typed a new bullet point: "What makes Clark sad?" She saved and exited. The document that was mostly red squiggles returned to the front of the screen...........The sound of clicking keys that filled the silence now belonged to Clark..........."Hey, Clark, do you have any friends?" asked Lois...........Clark stopped typing. "I have my mother, and when I was in high school I had a friend named Pete Ross.".........."No, I mean friends right now.".........."Well I have you, Lois." He said it with a straight face..........."You have got to be kidding me!" said Lois. "I'm terrible to you. I'm a brat. I treat you like nothing.".........."You're a greater hero for me than you give yourself credit for," said Clark. "You're all those things, but you put up with me all the same. Whenever you have a rant, you come to me first. And let's not forget, we make an awesome team. Remember when we investigated to see if Lex Luthor was twisting the arm of Senator Jennings?".........."Clark, the only reason I took you with me was because Chie - " she caught herself and cast a glance to Perry White's office, "Because Perry think we're perfect. That, and you tripped and ruined everything for me. Some team, huh?".........."Well, to my understanding you were pushing the boundaries of honest reporting anyway," said Clark. "And you admitted as much."..........Lois lifted a paperwieght and feigned a toss at Clark. He flinched. "Yeah, well I still would have had the ultimate story.".........."Even better than the one you have right now?" asked Clark...........It was now Lois's turn to flinch. "You changed the subject on me.".........."I did?".........."Yes, Clark, you did, and it was totally a reporterly thing to do," said Lois..........."Sorry. I should get back to my own article," said Clark..........."Wait, you can get that thing done in two minutes flat. How fast can you type anyway?".........."Over nine thousand, when you're not looking."..........Lois chuckled, cuaght off guard. She didn't expect Clark to be the type of person to make that kind of reference. "Okay, how about when I am looking?".........."Four hundred words per minute with ninety-eight percent accuracy," said Clark..........."See? So at that rate you could get your boring business article done in a few minutes, plus a few extra just to organize your thoughts, but you're a genius anyway so it shouldn't take too long. I can't imagine you'd be a busy person," said Lois...........Clark looked like he was struggling for a response. In the end, he said nothing, just returned to his report..........."No, don't you do that to me," said Lois. "Clark? Clark! C'mon, let's just talk. What do you say to visiting Mickey's Diner?" When he looked up at her she realized what she had said. "No, not as a date. Don't let that enter your mind. As a friend. As a coworker, because that's what coworkers do.".........."Lois, no need to be defensive. I asked you there the first day I met you, remember? I understand," said Clark...........That was right. Lois remembered sitting across from him and sharing with him her ambitions. He had sat there, eating his food, taking it all in, and every once and a while threw in his little bits of Midwest wisdom. Now that she thought about it, he had been awfully nice to her. Maybe it was time she returned the favor..........."Well, it's a little more than that. I met someone recently, someone with a heart of gold, someone kind, and he's sort of inspired me," said Lois. "I want to be more like him, and this is the sort of thing he would do.".........."'Whatever you do for the least of these you do unto me?'" quoted Clark..........."Uh, yeah, I see your reasoning there," said Lois. "He would totally like you, by the way.".........."I'm going to pretend I have no idea who you're talking about at this point," said Clark with a wry smile...........Lois closed her tight and scrunched up her face. "Stupid...I can't believe I gave myself away there." She let her face relax and took a deep breath. "Yes, I guess I might as well share that with you, anyway. We're friends, after all, like you said. And Clark?".........."Yes?".........."You can proofread my paper when we get there."..........Clark smiled with his eyes, but then his eyes went completely out of focus. "Sorry, Lois, something just came up. I have to go! Sorry!" He turned off his computer and jolted out of the office, leaving his roller chair spinning and Lois surprised. What was with that Clark Kent?..........Lois rested her cheek on one hand and sat there for a while, staring into the distance. Her thoughts occasionally shifted back to her article, but Clark returned to her mind again and again, so much so that it surprised her. He was an odd character, but maybe it was worth accepting Clark as her friend...........Then something came to her. Her journalistic instincts came back, and she opened up her bullet list again to add her latest question..........."What's with that Clark Kent?" Review 24601
  24. Tales of the Wanderer When your world has fallen, what do you do? Do you lie down and die,or keeping going? I choose to keep going, but if a record isn't kept, then why bother right? As we all know, history is written by the victor. And if we lose, then someone should know the truth of what happened. My name is Scott, but I think I'm getting ahead of my self, so I'll start at the being. I was born into a world of heroes and super-powered people. Too bad they were all dead by the time I was born. Here, some of greatest hero teams are dead. The Avengers, Fantastic Four, and the X-men, to name the big ones. When the Phoenix came back, it went crazy, killing most of the superheroes around. That was a year before I was born. I lived a normal life, sort of. I was a social outcast, even in kinder garden, and I didn't mind it at all. The first month, nobody would talk to me during play time, and to this day, I'm still not sure why. I wasn't mean or anything, but that's beside the point. By the time the second month rolled around, we had a new kid. He was already enrolled, as I learned later, but he had been really sick, and couldn't make it to school. I walked up to him and said hello to him. He said hi back, and we sort of became friends, seeing as he was the first to talk to me at this school besides my sister, and she barely spoke to me anyways. We told each other are names. His was Blake, and mine Scott. The two of us were a pair that was hard to separate, as we would only talk to each other, and the teacher, that was it. By the start of middle school, I had started to develop a crush on Blake's sister, Leixe. I was working up the nerve to ask her out when Blake's powers came in. He always like wolves, and that was what he shifted into, a Grey wolf. He mauled one the kids who picked on him within an inch of his life. I'll admit, I was a tiny bit afraid, but then forgot about it after about three seconds. My friend had Super-powers! That was awesome in so many ways. For one thing, no one would bother us, as they didn't want to run the risk of being mauled by Blake. It was hard for him, and I like to think I helped him deal with it, at least a little bit. While Blake was dealing with his powers, mine were coming in as well, but mine were much more subtle. I was a Techno-path, and I didn't quite know it yet. I was building computers a lot, and had become my school's unofficial tech support. I didn't mind it one bit. It was fun showing up all my teachers, it really was. During all this, I did ask out Lexie, and she said yes. It was an awkward few days till we worked it out. He'd maul me if I broke Lexie's heart, and I would of asked him to if I did anyways, so it all worked out. Now, I do have a sister, Sarah, and she had powers as well. Hers though, made her a target for everyone to make fun of. She had a pair of wings, and looked like a cat-person. A lot of the nerds at our School called her a Khajiit, or the Dragonborn, it deepened on which one you talked to. She started to go cold, emotionally. Maybe if I'd payed more attention to her, she wouldn't of been put into the place were she is now. There is one thing I remember, about a month before we moved. It was the end of the school year, so summer was starting again, and the sunset was amazing from the roof of the apartment building I lived in. The four of us, me, Blake, Sarah, and Lexie were up there, just talking about anything. Then I said “We should leave home when were all old enough. Be like the X-men, out saving the world and all that.” Blake then said, “ Will need a name for our team then.” “How about Bad Company?” Lexie said. She always had good ideas. “Isn't that a song, or was it a band?” Sarah asked. “Both.” Blake then pulled out his Ipod, and started to play the song Bad Company by the band Bad Company. We all liked the song, and went with the name. “ Bad Company, till the day we die!” we all shouted out. To bad we wouldn't get the chance to be Bad Co., at least not for a long time.Review TopicEdit: Link to the review topic added in.-Wind-
  25. This is a review topic for The Immortals. Ths has nothing to do with the Henry Cavill movie of the same name (in which case, here's my review: it sucked), but a little epic I decided to start. At first I thought I was going to do a short story based off of a scene and inner dialogue I had in my head a couple of days ago, but the point that I wanted to get to needed more building up to it so I stretched out the story into several chapters. Either way, hopefully I can express some of the feelings I've been having lately in such a way that this resonated with readers.24601
×
×
  • Create New...