Test Post Thread

[pacman281292]

VOTE: No lunch

UNVOTE: No lunch

testing tags...

326

random text

lol this is reverse

testing...

[ReaperCharlie]

[White "yabbaguy the Awesome"][Black "Someone Insignificant"][Result "1/2-1/2"] 1. e4 e5

We got bored so we drew, supposedly. :p

Anyway, quote to learn how to put the white/black players' names and the result in.

AWESOME!

AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME

WTF?!!!? YOU CAN NAVIGATE THROUGH THE MOVES?!

WHATTTTTTT

*dies of awesome overload*

[Porochaz]

red

blue

maroon

green

magenta

lilac

turquiose

Type 1

Type 2

Type 3

Type 4

Type 5

Type 6

Type 7

Type 8

[Porochaz]

Type 9

Edit:, there we go, didnt have to reduce myself to dulux color charts after all.

[pacman281292]

[White "You"][Black "pacman"][Result "0-1"] 1. f3 e5 2. g4 Qh4
Fool's Mate.
When you try to make a move after checkmate the board starts acting weird...

[ReaperCharlie]

Yep. My mind was just about blown when I found out there was a faster checkmate than the regular blitzkrieg.

Dam# that's still pretty awesome. Thumbs up for bring it up again. Shall we play?

[Triglav]

Testing avatar appearance.

[yabbaguy]

@pac: it seems a8 blinks when there's an error. Clicking it shows the error log, in which case you get something like "you can't do 3. a4 [because it's checkmate]"

[yabbaguy]

Odd. 5. Nd2 is ambiguous, yet it assumes Ned2.

1. Nf3 Nf6 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Ne4 a6 4. d4 h6 5. Nd2

[ReaperCharlie]

Hmm... interesting.

[pacman281292]

Yep. My mind was just about blown when I found out there was a faster checkmate than the regular blitzkrieg.

Dam# that's still pretty awesome. Thumbs up for bring it up again. Shall we play?

Bring it on!
I'll make the play thread right away. Pick a color

Also, as this is a test topic, testing what yabba said:

1. f3 e6 2. g4 Qh4 3. a3 a6 4. d4 h6 5. Nd2
1. Nf3 Nf6 2. Nc3 d6 3. d3 Nd7 4. Nfd2 h6 5. N2e4 Nd5 6. e3 N7b6
Well the chess tag seems to admit redundant references...

[ReaperCharlie]

It said K7b6 not just Kb6. HA!

[pacman281292]

It was meant to be that way (wanted to check if that kind of moves worked).
Thread is done. Go to Mish Mash and pick a color NAO!

[ReaperCharlie]

Done.

[yabbaguy]

N

7b6.

[ReaperCharlie]

*sheepish grin*

[yabbaguy]

Games that are like this don't deserve proper chess annotation.

1. g4 e5 2. f4 (?? WTF is this shit?) Qh4

[Mr. Flay]

This looks more like monospaced text, inline.

[ReaperCharlie]

This looks more like monospaced text, inline.

Oh, nice! Is there a blockquote version of that? I'd like to use it for making posts with long sections of formatted text in them ...like with

Code: Select all

 tags but without the scrolling? Is that possible?

[spoiler="Will it preserve formatting, such as indents?"][mono]--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER ONE
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was low in the sky, and tumbleweeds hopped across the ground like they owned the place. A solitary man walked slowly down a dusty street, the only one for miles around. The wind was at his back, whistling slowly through cracks in boarded windows, whining as it passed through the dead brown grass that poked through the wooden sidewalk. He walked alone, the wind whipping his black chaps around his tall, thin frame as he slowly trudged down the center of a old and worn out town. The setting sun glinted off his spurs, and his two silver six-guns gleamed in the failing light. This was a man apart from his world, tired of living a simple, dull life; a man who wanted something more than a drab brown existence surrounded by dust and monotony.

A sudden commotion arose, as a man burst from between the swinging doors of a nearby saloon, with a blushed face and a sore attitude. Two or three others silently followed him, waiting to see what circumstances would unfold before their tired eyes. A raised voice split the calm of the sandy desert air.

"This is the last straw, you low-down, underhanded swindler! I know that you're cheating! Everybody knows that you're cheating! You have to be cheating! Turn around and face me like a man!" the discontent man yelled. But the silent man walking down the street didn't turn around, or even so much as flicker an eyelash. He just kept slowly trudging down the long road ahead, chasing the red sun that was setting in the distance.

"Stop right there, Harland!" the angry man yelled. "I'm warning you!" He brandished a pistol and pointed at the other man's back, but the man remained a pillar of apathy as he continued nonchalantly along.

The man with the weapon lost his cool.

"Deuce Harland!" the man yelled. "Turn around, right now!"

Deuce didn't turn around.

Bang! The man fired at Deuce, which flew slightly wide and clipped Deuce's left ear.

Deuce whirled around and let two bullets fly at the man and his friends. He hit one of them in the shoulder, and as he fell, he shot back at Deuce. Sparks flew from a rusted metal feeding trough as bullets pinged off of it. Dust flew up from behind it as Deuce hurriedly got up and scurried to a safer place of refuge. He dove behind the wall of a nearby saloon as bullets pockmarked its wooden shingles right next to where he lay. He rolled over and pulled his other gleaming silver pistol from its holsters, and then did some more shooting of his own.

Deuce Harland was new in town, and already there were a whole heap of cowboys out to get him. He'd done nothing wrong, in his own eyes. He'd just cheated and swindled hundreds of dollars out of just about every gambling man in town. The problem was, these gambling men were also drinking men, and intoxicated men are not reasonable men, and now there were at least ten of them after him at this very second. Luckily, the alcohol affected their vision and aim as well as their better judgement, and Deuce found it easier than usual to dodge their erratic gunfire.

Bang! Crash!

Deuce ducked his head into his shoulders as a large general store window shattered just a few feet away. Suddenly, time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time, and the shards of glass flying everywhere floated in mid-air. An extremely bright light blinded Deuce, and he held up one of his arms to shield his eyes. The light came from the middle of the dusty street, and suddenly Deuce shouted in pain as time sped back up and slivers of glass cut into his back and neck.

Boom! A loud sound like a thunderclap rocked the streets, and three figures appeared. One was tall and handsome, simply radiating warmth, happiness, and goodness. The second was shorter; a dingy, dirty individual, with a dark aura about him. The third was a mysterious figure clad in light, and seemed to be the source of most of the brightness flowing through the city.

Deuce instinctively shot at them. Being in the middle of a gunfight, he thought it only fitting for everyone but himself to die. Living to see another day and make more money was the usual objective he followed in nebulous firefights such as these. Unfortunately for him, he knew not what powers the three who stood before him possessed. Of the three figures, two ducked and dodged as soon as they realized they were being shot at. The third held up his hand and stopped the rest of the bullets in midair. As Deuce watched in awe and horror, his bullets slowed to a halt in front of his very eyes. Then the other two walked toward Deuce, baring their fists and brandishing whatever weapons could be found laying on the ground, such as a pistol from one of Deuce's enemies, and a large board that was once part of a roof awning. But when these two saw that the bullets had been stopped in midair, they too stopped in wonder. The tall one picked one of the bullets right out of the air and handed it to his companion.

"Holy crap, sweet!" exclaimed the shorter one.

"Stfu Charlie, don't forget that fag in front of us shot 'em at us."

"Aw whatever, Quimby, he can't hurt us anyway, he got owned by Cynzyk."

Still, Quimby charged forward at Deuce, and was nearly within striking range when he was tackled from behind by Charlie.

"Omg n00b! Get off of me!" yelled Quimby.

"Hold on a sec, retard." Charlie said. Then he looked at Deuce.

"Brb, lol." he said to him. Then he pulled Quimby a few feet away.

"Listen... he's harmless, he was just shooting at us cause he was scared. Look at his face, he's bloody freaked out."

Quimby looked at Deuce's face, which was indeed quite scared-looking. Deuce was a steel-nerved fellow, quite sure of himself and the situations he got himself into, but when faced with the unknown, he lost all confidence. Charlie, having seen this, had lost his desire to mortally wound him, and decided instead to negotiate peaceful relations as a delegate from the 21st century.

"Hello there... we don't mean you any harm. We're quite incompetent with firearms ourselves. We just followed the shiny guy behind us here because he said we didn't have a choice. Really, we didn't mean to scare you." Charlie ventured.

"Who are you?" demanded Deuce tensely.

"I'm Charlie, and this is my hotheaded friend Quimby." said Charlie. "We're from what you'd probably call the future, and we don't know what is going on any more than you do. Luckily for us however, we apparently have considerably more intestinal fortitude when confronted with the unknown."

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped the cowboy.

"It means you're a little wimp." sneered Quimby.

Deuce ran at Quimby, attempting to injure him. But Charlie put a hand in front of Deuce's chest and knocked him down.

"Woah there buddy." Charlie said. He was about to cut Deuce down with a few choice words in defense of his best friend, and scold Quimby for exacerbating what was already a tense situation, but he was interrupted by a lightning crack that struck the ground not ten feet away. The sky immediately turned very dark and stormy.

"The time is at hand," said a deep sepulchral voice.

Quimby and Charlie quickly whirled around, only to gasp and back up a few steps in fright. A flaming, thundering Cynzyk stood fifteen feet tall behind them, and he looked angry. Quimby and Charlie cowered in fear.

"Events are now set in place which cannot be undone," boomed Cynzyk. And then he added, "At least by you."

And then Cynzyk disappeared in an electrically charged cloud of smoke and electrical flame.

Suddenly, a scream of terror was heard behind them, and they whirled around yet again, and again they saw a terrible sight.

Deuce Harland's hand was completely covered in black, as if he had dipped it into a can of paint. He looked in horror at his arm as the blackness spread up his wrist, forearm, and all the way to his shoulder. He cried out in pain as it reached his chest. As soon as it had reached his torso, its speed had doubled and it had quickly closed over the remainder of his body. Deuce was screaming in fear as only his head was left. As the darkness had reached every different part of his body, they had become stiff and motionless. In the same way, when his mouth was covered, the streets became eerily silent, even though his mouth was still open. Quimby and Charlie watched in silent horror as Deuce's eyes darted around in his last moments. Then the blackness covered Deuce entirely, his eyes dark pearls in his head, unseeing, unmoving.

"Dude, he's gone," said Charlie in awe.

"Good riddance." said Quimby, unfazed. The dark clouds above them thundered and rolled, and lightning cracked brightly through the sky, silhouetting the ghost town for a split second, leaving it darker than before. The already vicious winds picked up even more, and Charlie and Quimby had to brace themselves firmly in order not to be blown by the wind. The dark statue that was once Deuce Harland tipped violently. Charlie jumped forward quickly to catch the stone montage before it fell; eager to save Deuce some respect even in death. But alas, his movements were not quick enough, for even though his fingers brushed the object, it still fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. These remnants, being as dust, floated away with the wind, and all that was left was a small silver object.

Quimby and Charlie walked over to it and stooped down next to it. It was a card.

"Dude its a business card!" said Charlie, grabbing it as they both stood up again.

"For what?" asked Quimby.

"Shut up I don't know yet let me read it!" snapped Charlie nervously. And then he read it:

~THE JORAZIM~
PERFECT FOR DESTRUCTION AND MAYHEM
2932 7KOL, TB1139, PL.DEATH, CIARA
"Woah, destruction and mayhem, I like these guys!" said Charlie. But Quimby, looking at the bottom line, began to get philosophical.

"Judging by the sudden appearance of the card, and the mysteriously sinister nature of the Jorazim in our short meeting, and the sudden disappearance of Cynzyk, AND the untimely death of the reckless cowboy, I'd say that the last line on the card is definitely an address!" he proclaimed triumphantly. Charlie stared at Quimby for a second, and then replied,

"What does that have to do with anything you just said?"

"Quite obviously, my friend!" said Quimby. He read the last line on the card. "2932 7KOL, Terrain Barracks 1139, Planet Death, Ciara System. Mhm."

Charlie punched Quimby in the stomach. Oof!

"Stfu! You're just making that crap up!" Charlie shouted.

"No, really," sputtered Quimby. "I read about all different systems on the internet, and Ciara is the second most prominent system, following Suli."

"What... the deuce..." said Charlie, and was about to punch Quimby again when suddenly the card began to glow in his hand. It got brighter and brighter, with beams of light shooting out of it, as if escaping from it after many long years of imprisonment. Quimby and Charlie were frightened by a sudden maniacal laugh, deafeningly loud, as if it came from right between them, or even from the card itself. Charlie quickly dropped the card and they tried to back away as fast as they could, exchanging nervous glances with each other.

Suddenly, the card violently disintegrated, sending tiny silver shards everywhere at rapid velocities. Pieces of the glowing shrapnel ripped into Charlie and Quimby, tearing through their flesh and bone like thousands of small knives. Taking most of the blast, Charlie screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Quimby also grunted in agony as he tried to shield his body from the blinding explosion, and was thrown from his feet as well. He carefully stood up, and walked slowly to Charlie, who was also struggling to stand.

Suddenly, Charlie cried out again as his hand began to glow. Then a crusty layer of matte black began to spread over his arm. Quimby quickly took in this situation, and realized a few things, some more obvious than others: First of all, the same thing was happening to Charlie that had happened to Deuce. Secondly, he rapidly concluded that this fact was directly related to Charlie having come into direct physical contact with Deuce, however briefly, as he'd tried to stop the statue from falling. And thirdly, he realized that Charlie, quickly meeting Deuce's fate, was about to die. And then he flashed back to reality. Charlie was screaming bloody murder. Quick as a lightning flash, Quimby (being of course an uberl337 ninja) pulled out a shining ninja sword. His motions blurred to the human eye because he was so fast (and l337). He drew the sword from it's sheath, raised it high above his head, and brought it down cleanly through Charlie's arm. Charlie howled in anguish, first from the immediate pain, and then from realizing that his arm had just been chopped off. Charlie's arm flew a few feet away from him; blood spewing in gouts from both the severed limb, and from Charlie's massive wound. The severed arm was quickly covered in black, and the wound was cauterized, or frozen, or both; either way, it stopped bleeding quickly. On the other hand, Charlie was screaming in agony at his pain, and was losing blood fast.

Quimby (being a cop as well, and therefore knowing everything pertaining to anything) quickly ripped his clothes to fashion a tourniquet to place upon Charlie's gushing wound. After he had successfully applied it, the bleeding nearly stopped, but Charlie had already lost a lot of blood, and Quimby was bleeding quite badly himself from his shrapnel wounds. They both needed to get to safety and medical attention post haste.

The sky was growing darker, and thunder could be heard in the distance. A light rain began to fall as Quimby and Charlie set off through the barren wasteland of whatever world they were in. Seconds dragged into minutes, and minutes dragged into hours, as they traveled through the land that lay beyond the ghost town they had originally appeared in. It was covered in ruins, as if a bombing had taken place nearby.

As they trudged on, Quimby noticed that although he had attended to Charlie's wound efficiently, he was still losing a lot of blood. Charlie also noticed this as he began to grow faint and stumble back and forth as they traversed the treacherous terrain. After another few hours, he finally collapsed. The rain beat down fiercely now, as he slowly fell into the mud. Quimby was at his side immediately, and as soon as he discovered that Charlie was unconscious, he threw him over his shoulder and pressed on with grim determination. The wind and rain were merciless as Quimby carried his best friend hour after hour through the desolate wasteland that lay sprawled out before him. Charlie was in a perpetual cyclic state of passing between consciousness and unconsciousness, and was losing more blood with every minute. Quimby was exhausted.

Finally, Quimby found an old abandoned house, and trudged slowly to the front door. He took Charlie off of his shoulder and stood him up next to himself. He then bravely knocked on the door, loudly and crisply.

Crrreeeaaaakk! BOOM!

The door fell inward and slammed to the floor, creating a huge cloud of dust, as if the door hadn't been opened in years.

"Guess nobody's home. What a surprise..." thought Quimby, and he dragged Charlie inside, and collapsed.[/mono][/spoiler][b]Preview edit:[/b] Sad panda shakes his head "No" sadly..

[Mr. Flay]

[quote="ReaperCharlie"]I'd like to use it for making posts with long sections of formatted text in them ...like with

Code: Select all

 tags but without the scrolling? Is that possible?[/quote]Investigate the [pre] tag - it's a block-level version (whereas [mono] is inline).

Granted, it won't word-wrap.... it's just an implementation of the [url=http://www.w3schools.com/tags/tag_pre.asp]<pre>[/url] tag.

[ReaperCharlie]

Spoiler: Testing again (this time with pre tags)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER ONE
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was low in the sky, and tumbleweeds hopped across the ground like they owned the place. A solitary man walked slowly down a dusty street, the only one for miles around. The wind was at his back, whistling slowly through cracks in boarded windows, whining as it passed through the dead brown grass that poked through the wooden sidewalk. He walked alone, the wind whipping his black chaps around his tall, thin frame as he slowly trudged down the center of a old and worn out town. The setting sun glinted off his spurs, and his two silver six-guns gleamed in the failing light. This was a man apart from his world, tired of living a simple, dull life; a man who wanted something more than a drab brown existence surrounded by dust and monotony.

A sudden commotion arose, as a man burst from between the swinging doors of a nearby saloon, with a blushed face and a sore attitude. Two or three others silently followed him, waiting to see what circumstances would unfold before their tired eyes. A raised voice split the calm of the sandy desert air.

"This is the last straw, you low-down, underhanded swindler! I know that you're cheating! Everybody knows that you're cheating! You have to be cheating! Turn around and face me like a man!" the discontent man yelled. But the silent man walking down the street didn't turn around, or even so much as flicker an eyelash. He just kept slowly trudging down the long road ahead, chasing the red sun that was setting in the distance.

"Stop right there, Harland!" the angry man yelled. "I'm warning you!" He brandished a pistol and pointed at the other man's back, but the man remained a pillar of apathy as he continued nonchalantly along.

The man with the weapon lost his cool.

"Deuce Harland!" the man yelled. "Turn around, right now!"

Deuce didn't turn around.

Bang! The man fired at Deuce, which flew slightly wide and clipped Deuce's left ear.

Deuce whirled around and let two bullets fly at the man and his friends. He hit one of them in the shoulder, and as he fell, he shot back at Deuce. Sparks flew from a rusted metal feeding trough as bullets pinged off of it. Dust flew up from behind it as Deuce hurriedly got up and scurried to a safer place of refuge. He dove behind the wall of a nearby saloon as bullets pockmarked its wooden shingles right next to where he lay. He rolled over and pulled his other gleaming silver pistol from its holsters, and then did some more shooting of his own.

Deuce Harland was new in town, and already there were a whole heap of cowboys out to get him. He'd done nothing wrong, in his own eyes. He'd just cheated and swindled hundreds of dollars out of just about every gambling man in town. The problem was, these gambling men were also drinking men, and intoxicated men are not reasonable men, and now there were at least ten of them after him at this very second. Luckily, the alcohol affected their vision and aim as well as their better judgement, and Deuce found it easier than usual to dodge their erratic gunfire.

Bang! Crash!

Deuce ducked his head into his shoulders as a large general store window shattered just a few feet away. Suddenly, time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time, and the shards of glass flying everywhere floated in mid-air. An extremely bright light blinded Deuce, and he held up one of his arms to shield his eyes. The light came from the middle of the dusty street, and suddenly Deuce shouted in pain as time sped back up and slivers of glass cut into his back and neck.

Boom! A loud sound like a thunderclap rocked the streets, and three figures appeared. One was tall and handsome, simply radiating warmth, happiness, and goodness. The second was shorter; a dingy, dirty individual, with a dark aura about him. The third was a mysterious figure clad in light, and seemed to be the source of most of the brightness flowing through the city.

Deuce instinctively shot at them. Being in the middle of a gunfight, he thought it only fitting for everyone but himself to die. Living to see another day and make more money was the usual objective he followed in nebulous firefights such as these. Unfortunately for him, he knew not what powers the three who stood before him possessed. Of the three figures, two ducked and dodged as soon as they realized they were being shot at. The third held up his hand and stopped the rest of the bullets in midair. As Deuce watched in awe and horror, his bullets slowed to a halt in front of his very eyes. Then the other two walked toward Deuce, baring their fists and brandishing whatever weapons could be found laying on the ground, such as a pistol from one of Deuce's enemies, and a large board that was once part of a roof awning. But when these two saw that the bullets had been stopped in midair, they too stopped in wonder. The tall one picked one of the bullets right out of the air and handed it to his companion.

"Holy crap, sweet!" exclaimed the shorter one.

"Stfu Charlie, don't forget that fag in front of us shot 'em at us."

"Aw whatever, Quimby, he can't hurt us anyway, he got owned by Cynzyk."

Still, Quimby charged forward at Deuce, and was nearly within striking range when he was tackled from behind by Charlie.

"Omg n00b! Get off of me!" yelled Quimby.

"Hold on a sec, retard." Charlie said. Then he looked at Deuce.

"Brb, lol." he said to him. Then he pulled Quimby a few feet away.

"Listen... he's harmless, he was just shooting at us cause he was scared. Look at his face, he's bloody freaked out."

Quimby looked at Deuce's face, which was indeed quite scared-looking. Deuce was a steel-nerved fellow, quite sure of himself and the situations he got himself into, but when faced with the unknown, he lost all confidence. Charlie, having seen this, had lost his desire to mortally wound him, and decided instead to negotiate peaceful relations as a delegate from the 21st century.

"Hello there... we don't mean you any harm. We're quite incompetent with firearms ourselves. We just followed the shiny guy behind us here because he said we didn't have a choice. Really, we didn't mean to scare you." Charlie ventured.

"Who are you?" demanded Deuce tensely.

"I'm Charlie, and this is my hotheaded friend Quimby." said Charlie. "We're from what you'd probably call the future, and we don't know what is going on any more than you do. Luckily for us however, we apparently have considerably more intestinal fortitude when confronted with the unknown."

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped the cowboy.

"It means you're a little wimp." sneered Quimby.

Deuce ran at Quimby, attempting to injure him. But Charlie put a hand in front of Deuce's chest and knocked him down.

"Woah there buddy." Charlie said. He was about to cut Deuce down with a few choice words in defense of his best friend, and scold Quimby for exacerbating what was already a tense situation, but he was interrupted by a lightning crack that struck the ground not ten feet away. The sky immediately turned very dark and stormy.

"The time is at hand," said a deep sepulchral voice.

Quimby and Charlie quickly whirled around, only to gasp and back up a few steps in fright. A flaming, thundering Cynzyk stood fifteen feet tall behind them, and he looked angry. Quimby and Charlie cowered in fear.

"Events are now set in place which cannot be undone," boomed Cynzyk. And then he added, "At least by you."

And then Cynzyk disappeared in an electrically charged cloud of smoke and electrical flame.

Suddenly, a scream of terror was heard behind them, and they whirled around yet again, and again they saw a terrible sight.

Deuce Harland's hand was completely covered in black, as if he had dipped it into a can of paint. He looked in horror at his arm as the blackness spread up his wrist, forearm, and all the way to his shoulder. He cried out in pain as it reached his chest. As soon as it had reached his torso, its speed had doubled and it had quickly closed over the remainder of his body. Deuce was screaming in fear as only his head was left. As the darkness had reached every different part of his body, they had become stiff and motionless. In the same way, when his mouth was covered, the streets became eerily silent, even though his mouth was still open. Quimby and Charlie watched in silent horror as Deuce's eyes darted around in his last moments. Then the blackness covered Deuce entirely, his eyes dark pearls in his head, unseeing, unmoving.

"Dude, he's gone," said Charlie in awe.

"Good riddance." said Quimby, unfazed. The dark clouds above them thundered and rolled, and lightning cracked brightly through the sky, silhouetting the ghost town for a split second, leaving it darker than before. The already vicious winds picked up even more, and Charlie and Quimby had to brace themselves firmly in order not to be blown by the wind. The dark statue that was once Deuce Harland tipped violently. Charlie jumped forward quickly to catch the stone montage before it fell; eager to save Deuce some respect even in death. But alas, his movements were not quick enough, for even though his fingers brushed the object, it still fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. These remnants, being as dust, floated away with the wind, and all that was left was a small silver object.

Quimby and Charlie walked over to it and stooped down next to it. It was a card.

"Dude its a business card!" said Charlie, grabbing it as they both stood up again.

"For what?" asked Quimby.

"Shut up I don't know yet let me read it!" snapped Charlie nervously. And then he read it:

~THE JORAZIM~
PERFECT FOR DESTRUCTION AND MAYHEM
2932 7KOL, TB1139, PL.DEATH, CIARA
"Woah, destruction and mayhem, I like these guys!" said Charlie. But Quimby, looking at the bottom line, began to get philosophical.

"Judging by the sudden appearance of the card, and the mysteriously sinister nature of the Jorazim in our short meeting, and the sudden disappearance of Cynzyk, AND the untimely death of the reckless cowboy, I'd say that the last line on the card is definitely an address!" he proclaimed triumphantly. Charlie stared at Quimby for a second, and then replied,

"What does that have to do with anything you just said?"

"Quite obviously, my friend!" said Quimby. He read the last line on the card. "2932 7KOL, Terrain Barracks 1139, Planet Death, Ciara System. Mhm."

Charlie punched Quimby in the stomach. Oof!

"Stfu! You're just making that crap up!" Charlie shouted.

"No, really," sputtered Quimby. "I read about all different systems on the internet, and Ciara is the second most prominent system, following Suli."

"What... the deuce..." said Charlie, and was about to punch Quimby again when suddenly the card began to glow in his hand. It got brighter and brighter, with beams of light shooting out of it, as if escaping from it after many long years of imprisonment. Quimby and Charlie were frightened by a sudden maniacal laugh, deafeningly loud, as if it came from right between them, or even from the card itself. Charlie quickly dropped the card and they tried to back away as fast as they could, exchanging nervous glances with each other.

Suddenly, the card violently disintegrated, sending tiny silver shards everywhere at rapid velocities. Pieces of the glowing shrapnel ripped into Charlie and Quimby, tearing through their flesh and bone like thousands of small knives. Taking most of the blast, Charlie screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Quimby also grunted in agony as he tried to shield his body from the blinding explosion, and was thrown from his feet as well. He carefully stood up, and walked slowly to Charlie, who was also struggling to stand.

Suddenly, Charlie cried out again as his hand began to glow. Then a crusty layer of matte black began to spread over his arm. Quimby quickly took in this situation, and realized a few things, some more obvious than others: First of all, the same thing was happening to Charlie that had happened to Deuce. Secondly, he rapidly concluded that this fact was directly related to Charlie having come into direct physical contact with Deuce, however briefly, as he'd tried to stop the statue from falling. And thirdly, he realized that Charlie, quickly meeting Deuce's fate, was about to die. And then he flashed back to reality. Charlie was screaming bloody murder. Quick as a lightning flash, Quimby (being of course an uberl337 ninja) pulled out a shining ninja sword. His motions blurred to the human eye because he was so fast (and l337). He drew the sword from it's sheath, raised it high above his head, and brought it down cleanly through Charlie's arm. Charlie howled in anguish, first from the immediate pain, and then from realizing that his arm had just been chopped off. Charlie's arm flew a few feet away from him; blood spewing in gouts from both the severed limb, and from Charlie's massive wound. The severed arm was quickly covered in black, and the wound was cauterized, or frozen, or both; either way, it stopped bleeding quickly. On the other hand, Charlie was screaming in agony at his pain, and was losing blood fast.

Quimby (being a cop as well, and therefore knowing everything pertaining to anything) quickly ripped his clothes to fashion a tourniquet to place upon Charlie's gushing wound. After he had successfully applied it, the bleeding nearly stopped, but Charlie had already lost a lot of blood, and Quimby was bleeding quite badly himself from his shrapnel wounds. They both needed to get to safety and medical attention post haste.

The sky was growing darker, and thunder could be heard in the distance. A light rain began to fall as Quimby and Charlie set off through the barren wasteland of whatever world they were in. Seconds dragged into minutes, and minutes dragged into hours, as they traveled through the land that lay beyond the ghost town they had originally appeared in. It was covered in ruins, as if a bombing had taken place nearby.

As they trudged on, Quimby noticed that although he had attended to Charlie's wound efficiently, he was still losing a lot of blood. Charlie also noticed this as he began to grow faint and stumble back and forth as they traversed the treacherous terrain. After another few hours, he finally collapsed. The rain beat down fiercely now, as he slowly fell into the mud. Quimby was at his side immediately, and as soon as he discovered that Charlie was unconscious, he threw him over his shoulder and pressed on with grim determination. The wind and rain were merciless as Quimby carried his best friend hour after hour through the desolate wasteland that lay sprawled out before him. Charlie was in a perpetual cyclic state of passing between consciousness and unconsciousness, and was losing more blood with every minute. Quimby was exhausted.

Finally, Quimby found an old abandoned house, and trudged slowly to the front door. He took Charlie off of his shoulder and stood him up next to himself. He then bravely knocked on the door, loudly and crisply.

Crrreeeaaaakk! BOOM!

The door fell inward and slammed to the floor, creating a huge cloud of dust, as if the door hadn't been opened in years.

"Guess nobody's home. What a surprise..." thought Quimby, and he dragged Charlie inside, and collapsed.

Preview edit:

No dice. Whitespace formatting is still not preserved (other than newlines). Actually, I like it even less than the tag... the font setting for is cooler.



Is there any kind of tag (besides

Code: Select all

 which does it perfectly) that preserves whitespace? My only problem with [code] is that it turns into a scrollbox if it goes beyond a certain length. Is there a way to turn that off?

[Mr. Flay]

Huh. I thought you were talking about horizontal whitespace. I have no idea why it's not preserving newlines... will look into it after D*C.

[ReaperCharlie]

No, I think it's preserving newlines, I just don't think it's preserving horizontal whitespace (i.e. Spaces/tabs before a line).

Code: Select all

 does it perfectly, I just hate the scroll bar.

[StrangerCoug]

Sample anchor text

[animorpherv1]

Mario

&

Luigi

:

Bowser's

Inside Story Mafia!

The Story starts in Toad Town, where lots of Toads have recently been afflicted with the Blorbs!

"Dad?

YEEK!

" A Child Toad, when he sees his father with the Blorbs.

Princess Peach then calls a meeting, sending a message to the Star Sprites for help!

"HELLO YELLO!" Starlow, the Star Sprite representative says as she enters the meeting, late. Then, not knowing how to cure it, she joins the meeting.

"The Doctors are stumped, the Star Sprites useless, now who de we turh to?" Toadsworth asks.

"Well there IS someone we can count on, by boogity!" Toadbert replys. Then, Mario and Luigi entre the meeting.

But then, Bowsers enters the meeting! He starts out acting 'nice' but it quickly turns into a fight. Mario wins, and Bowser gets chucked into Dimble Wood forest. There, he sees a hooded figure who offers him a "Lucky Shroom"

"Do not have worries for detals! No, do not have the worries! Have the Lucky Shroom of Tastiness instead!" Bowser thens snarfs down the 'Lucky Shroom' and he becomes a giant vaccum! Somehow, he makes it back into the meeting and vaccums everyone in the castle! He then falls asleep.

Who is the one who has done all this? Will Mario, Luigi and Bowser be able to defeating him?