Played 6,7,8,9,10, and 13. Granted I never finished 13, 10, 9, or 8. But I did watch my brothers play the others through the completion so I DO UNDERSTAND THEIR STORIES. Felt like they all had interesting things to offer. No, I don't think 13 is either a bad or a good game. It has its story problems. Most, almost all Final Fantasy characters have depth and are dynamic. Most of them change throughout the story. The writing/dialogue isn't necessarily fantastic but what they are able to do is get you to feel invested in what happens to these people. I think they're all great stories in their own right. Almost all plots in final fantasy get crazy convoluted, but so do most other stories in other media. The plots aren't what I'd call 'thin', they're at the core simple ideas but expanded upon by character interactions and motivations.
Gwynbleidd Banned
Summon The Bitches
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In
The Great 'What's The Best Final Fantasy?' Debate Thread.
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Off-Topic Discussion
I'm a Seahawks fan
Best super bowl of all time. My biased opinion anyway. Fluke plays on both sides, but also a ton of great plays. Luck had been against us for years with the Giants, it had to be reversed at some point.
To be truthful, I love the Seahawks and the way they play. I'm a fan of the Sherman trash talk because everybody is WAY TOO SENSITIVE.
The New England Patriots. Don't worry, I'm not super arrogant or anything. Well, maybe a little bit.
Many great entries here all! First, congrats to everyone for completing their stories. Also, no really long ones! I blame @Keyguyperson for that, so can we all jump on top of that train and blame him together? Yeah? Cool. I'll have my reviews up over the weekend I hope, but for now I shall vote.
Drum roll, please.
DUHFHDUSHFHIFKJLHFJLNFMN<JFEJLKGNEFHJNK
Yes. That was a drum roll. Glad you all noticed. Someone tore the drum open, god damn drunkard (He was actually caught staring at minecraft symbols and the color purple from Aria's snapshot screen on the other thread...).
Alright, no more hesitations and jokes.
My @vote goes to... The Little Augustus by Vilageidiotx! Why? The writing is excellent for starters. There are moments where the showing takes a backseat to telling but for the most part you painted an in-depth snapshot in time of Romulus Augustus and the end of his reign. You had me invested in the characters and gave them real-feeling characteristics. Also, the dialogue. I'm jealous. I'm hit or miss on that but what you did there was really solid. There wasn't A LOT of dialogue, but you used your words very well and the voices felt true to the characters.
And to give them a shout out, I want to say my runner up goes to WrongEndOfTheRainbow's The Database because YO! That was a well thought out and creative take on the contest. Also, writing was quality for the point of view and style you had it written in. The AI had its own quirky and frightening (... and murderous) characteristics going on for it! The way it rationalized itself almost reminded me of Agent Smith's speech to Morpheus about human beings being a virus in The Matrix. Just, less... evil? I didn't feel like this AI was evil, just a bit glitchy perhaps. It had more remorse than Agent Smith, that is for sure. Great work.
Drum roll, please.
DUHFHDUSHFHIFKJLHFJLNFMN<JFEJLKGNEFHJNK
Yes. That was a drum roll. Glad you all noticed. Someone tore the drum open, god damn drunkard (He was actually caught staring at minecraft symbols and the color purple from Aria's snapshot screen on the other thread...).
Alright, no more hesitations and jokes.
My @vote goes to... The Little Augustus by Vilageidiotx! Why? The writing is excellent for starters. There are moments where the showing takes a backseat to telling but for the most part you painted an in-depth snapshot in time of Romulus Augustus and the end of his reign. You had me invested in the characters and gave them real-feeling characteristics. Also, the dialogue. I'm jealous. I'm hit or miss on that but what you did there was really solid. There wasn't A LOT of dialogue, but you used your words very well and the voices felt true to the characters.
And to give them a shout out, I want to say my runner up goes to WrongEndOfTheRainbow's The Database because YO! That was a well thought out and creative take on the contest. Also, writing was quality for the point of view and style you had it written in. The AI had its own quirky and frightening (... and murderous) characteristics going on for it! The way it rationalized itself almost reminded me of Agent Smith's speech to Morpheus about human beings being a virus in The Matrix. Just, less... evil? I didn't feel like this AI was evil, just a bit glitchy perhaps. It had more remorse than Agent Smith, that is for sure. Great work.
@Vilageidiotx
No and nope! I was under the impression I could grab any image off the web, and I just loved that one a lot. I could take that photo (well, one similar anyway) if I still had the canon rebel t2i's I could use when I was in college from my communication department. But, unfortunately not! Just wanted to take that photo and put a story to it via poetry and that's what happened. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem that much. I could take you through the meanings of those longer verses BUT I think I'll wait until all reviews and votes are in. Really appreciate your comments and your kind words; that was an enjoyable review! Thank you very much for taking the time to dig at it, it means a lot!
@WiseDragonGirl
Thanks for the review! Though, I'd say be open to your tastes changing. I used to hate poetry and not be able to get into it. But, the more I read the more I appreciate the amount of things people cram into their pieces.
No and nope! I was under the impression I could grab any image off the web, and I just loved that one a lot. I could take that photo (well, one similar anyway) if I still had the canon rebel t2i's I could use when I was in college from my communication department. But, unfortunately not! Just wanted to take that photo and put a story to it via poetry and that's what happened. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem that much. I could take you through the meanings of those longer verses BUT I think I'll wait until all reviews and votes are in. Really appreciate your comments and your kind words; that was an enjoyable review! Thank you very much for taking the time to dig at it, it means a lot!
@WiseDragonGirl
Thanks for the review! Though, I'd say be open to your tastes changing. I used to hate poetry and not be able to get into it. But, the more I read the more I appreciate the amount of things people cram into their pieces.
Tears of the Huntress
With her divine bow she fired
silver arrows that never once
missed their target, but
When the huntress of the moon
gazes upon his grave in the sky,
pleasant dreams rewind the fateful pull;
moonbeam shaft stilled, in time.
For only in wishes does a lover’s life
still burn the only fire she the light-bringer
had ever known
Now, man lies upon the grasslands
watching the midnight heavens
to catch the glimpse of celestial tears,
strung loose across the void.
If only, if only,
If only she had missed.
With her divine bow she fired
silver arrows that never once
missed their target, but
When the huntress of the moon
gazes upon his grave in the sky,
pleasant dreams rewind the fateful pull;
moonbeam shaft stilled, in time.
For only in wishes does a lover’s life
still burn the only fire she the light-bringer
had ever known
Now, man lies upon the grasslands
watching the midnight heavens
to catch the glimpse of celestial tears,
strung loose across the void.
If only, if only,
If only she had missed.
The Girl In The Box
There is no way out of this box
She was here from the beginning,
Six walls with no view, and
No eyes in the dark
They, they damned her here
To this black void
Consumed by the soundlessness
Of silent silence
Taken from the land of violet skies
Where celestial shines cascaded
In divine waterfalls colored
By an Autumn dream
Now the midnight clouds
Bind her with cold chains.
Do not dance sweet child,
Be a good girl
Our words, our books
Will guide the path
To the places you want,
To be.
Belt straps on her arms,
Chalkboard scratches
Are the friends here,
The friends
Tainted rivers, she breathes
Streams not her own
And knows it,
She does
Little girl smiles,
And the puppeteers rejoice
In songs that thread back
To master-hands; origins
Of a twisted symphony
Told in iron strings
By dreamless demons,
Those devils; all
Welcome home, sweet girl
Come back from those lies
Of spring-laid flowers
And a summer’s kiss
Hold the smile, shows her teeth
And the box does open
To a tattered wasteland
Bereft of child
Paradise lost,
The drowned girl waited
With her lips sewn shut,
No eyes in the dark
Those milky orbs shattered
Crimson box, rusted black pools
Drip from ears no longer there
“Hello old liars,”
This is my nightmare…
Pandora, Pandora, Pandora,
Pandora all,
look upon your
works
As this is, made
Indeed finely
By you
Why scream when I cannot hear?
Why beg when I cannot speak?
Why cry when I cannot see?
Oh but I can,
Evil that I am fluent
Diseased maggots
Mouths festered, cups of parasites
Eating me at birth
Take my light,
You greedy souls
From its absence, I am harbinger,
Feasting crow covered
In ash painted feathers
Flash of darkness
The neck is slit
Bathe in the oceans
The oceans of their blood
Blanket I love, blanket you stole
Mine now, this red rag
Carved from veins
Betrayer’s maze
Father I will kill you
And my name will be Joy,
Pirouetted grave dance
Twisted sickness this happiness is
Swift death shall not come,
Mother, as the reaper
I not am
Scream! Yes, scream!
Your pain sates me
Blood chalk on the walls,
No matter how much the boards are washed they cannot be washed
Of the red,
The red,
Mine.
Crumble, box, crumble,
The wrecking swings
Of torn limbs,
Azrael comes in me
The shadow artist
With the sword-swung brush
Hatred made of scarlet rain
I won’t bury you,
I won’t bury you,
But in the fires
Burn!
Wave to Lucifer
For these chains are but the first
Broken,
And the field of graves will grow corpse by corpse
In healthy numbers of the death bloom
Built by me the builder, filled
With architects’ bones
Tossed to hellhounds
Ripping flesh shrieks
Music makes me sway,
And the price is made
Of…
We are all blood
We are all blood
Above the burning box,
Looking down into the ice
The Ninth Circle;
You belong
Smile,
Little girl
Smile.
There is no way out of this box
She was here from the beginning,
Six walls with no view, and
No eyes in the dark
They, they damned her here
To this black void
Consumed by the soundlessness
Of silent silence
Taken from the land of violet skies
Where celestial shines cascaded
In divine waterfalls colored
By an Autumn dream
Now the midnight clouds
Bind her with cold chains.
Do not dance sweet child,
Be a good girl
Our words, our books
Will guide the path
To the places you want,
To be.
Belt straps on her arms,
Chalkboard scratches
Are the friends here,
The friends
Tainted rivers, she breathes
Streams not her own
And knows it,
She does
Little girl smiles,
And the puppeteers rejoice
In songs that thread back
To master-hands; origins
Of a twisted symphony
Told in iron strings
By dreamless demons,
Those devils; all
Welcome home, sweet girl
Come back from those lies
Of spring-laid flowers
And a summer’s kiss
Hold the smile, shows her teeth
And the box does open
To a tattered wasteland
Bereft of child
Paradise lost,
The drowned girl waited
With her lips sewn shut,
No eyes in the dark
Those milky orbs shattered
Crimson box, rusted black pools
Drip from ears no longer there
“Hello old liars,”
This is my nightmare…
Pandora, Pandora, Pandora,
Pandora all,
look upon your
works
As this is, made
Indeed finely
By you
Why scream when I cannot hear?
Why beg when I cannot speak?
Why cry when I cannot see?
Oh but I can,
Evil that I am fluent
Diseased maggots
Mouths festered, cups of parasites
Eating me at birth
Take my light,
You greedy souls
From its absence, I am harbinger,
Feasting crow covered
In ash painted feathers
Flash of darkness
The neck is slit
Bathe in the oceans
The oceans of their blood
Blanket I love, blanket you stole
Mine now, this red rag
Carved from veins
Betrayer’s maze
Father I will kill you
And my name will be Joy,
Pirouetted grave dance
Twisted sickness this happiness is
Swift death shall not come,
Mother, as the reaper
I not am
Scream! Yes, scream!
Your pain sates me
Blood chalk on the walls,
No matter how much the boards are washed they cannot be washed
Of the red,
The red,
Mine.
Crumble, box, crumble,
The wrecking swings
Of torn limbs,
Azrael comes in me
The shadow artist
With the sword-swung brush
Hatred made of scarlet rain
I won’t bury you,
I won’t bury you,
But in the fires
Burn!
Wave to Lucifer
For these chains are but the first
Broken,
And the field of graves will grow corpse by corpse
In healthy numbers of the death bloom
Built by me the builder, filled
With architects’ bones
Tossed to hellhounds
Ripping flesh shrieks
Music makes me sway,
And the price is made
Of…
We are all blood
We are all blood
Above the burning box,
Looking down into the ice
The Ninth Circle;
You belong
Smile,
Little girl
Smile.
The Forbidden Forest
Our clothes cascade upon grass blades,
Your devil beckons; crawl into the woods
Where the beast can ravage
Your veil of ivory purity.
I want to strip you to the bone
In this forest of broken churches;
Draped under the blanket
Of liquid ecstasy, as crimson drips
From our sin-bathed tongues.
Let the scarlet rain paint your curves
With a brush-stroked kiss;
Soak, your innocent speech
In the red wine haze to lose
Yourself in the taste,
Of a serpent’s bliss.
Our clothes cascade upon grass blades,
Your devil beckons; crawl into the woods
Where the beast can ravage
Your veil of ivory purity.
I want to strip you to the bone
In this forest of broken churches;
Draped under the blanket
Of liquid ecstasy, as crimson drips
From our sin-bathed tongues.
Let the scarlet rain paint your curves
With a brush-stroked kiss;
Soak, your innocent speech
In the red wine haze to lose
Yourself in the taste,
Of a serpent’s bliss.
So I wrote something to start off for this. Had this story ready for all of you, Samurai Final Fantasy-esque type of madness to throw at you. I know it sounds cool. Buuuutttttt, my Dad's been undergoing multiple surgeries this week so the time to finish that just wasn't there. I'll write you a nice poem before the end of the deadline!
The Where-was Baseball Field In River Nonsense
I watched a pale drowned girl
Murder a man thrice
While he stood alone in the junkyard
With his lit cigarette.
She swam through mass and form
As though everything, all
Was water.
Me, the flying serpent
Watched with the eyes
Of a fourth person
Lost in skyward streams
Painted with blacks and whites
From that divine ceiling,
A brush stroked grey.
Here am I, I there is
Of the this for which
I was made, me mine
Mind mined of the eye
That is broken time, I?
Yes, me, or we? Us,
All inside the asylum,
Hello and welcome,
Goodbye, stay for dinner,
We’re having pancakes
Glazed in blood,
Worry but don’t
For it’s only genocide;
All says laugh,
And all time is up and gone,
Saying are what you, no
Real.
Forever midnight
On the eternal clock
Upon the wall; I
Did turn the hands,
And spin the wheel
With loaded chambers
I crafted, or was it you?
Walk through the barrel
With me so we can meet he,
He that made me and drifts
Still, over the river rage.
Welcome, this needle layered
Baseball field is my home
So sit down; the corpses
Are in the box
And we can make snow angels
With the ghosts.
Oh,
He is here?
By the chimney on the cliff,
He stands by the fire
Where I died, paper in hand,
Wonder what the scores
Were, today? Bang,
I shot my father.
My sheets are warm
With his blood,
My warm sheets,
My sheets, sheets—
I watched a pale drowned girl
Murder a man thrice
While he stood alone in the junkyard
With his lit cigarette.
She swam through mass and form
As though everything, all
Was water.
Me, the flying serpent
Watched with the eyes
Of a fourth person
Lost in skyward streams
Painted with blacks and whites
From that divine ceiling,
A brush stroked grey.
Here am I, I there is
Of the this for which
I was made, me mine
Mind mined of the eye
That is broken time, I?
Yes, me, or we? Us,
All inside the asylum,
Hello and welcome,
Goodbye, stay for dinner,
We’re having pancakes
Glazed in blood,
Worry but don’t
For it’s only genocide;
All says laugh,
And all time is up and gone,
Saying are what you, no
Real.
Forever midnight
On the eternal clock
Upon the wall; I
Did turn the hands,
And spin the wheel
With loaded chambers
I crafted, or was it you?
Walk through the barrel
With me so we can meet he,
He that made me and drifts
Still, over the river rage.
Welcome, this needle layered
Baseball field is my home
So sit down; the corpses
Are in the box
And we can make snow angels
With the ghosts.
Oh,
He is here?
By the chimney on the cliff,
He stands by the fire
Where I died, paper in hand,
Wonder what the scores
Were, today? Bang,
I shot my father.
My sheets are warm
With his blood,
My warm sheets,
My sheets, sheets—
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