Attention: All entries are due by Monday, June 11th. [which also happens to be my sister's eighth birthday]
The Lighthouse's Tale by Nickel Creek, accompanied by Rainy Mood Rain makes everything better.
Mantras by Richard B. Meyer as played by the Lewisville High School Orchestra
Eine Kleine Natchmusik by Motzart, played by the Lewisville High School Orchestra
Funny, this is almost like watching a hawk's nest on a secret camera.
I'm just vouching for the competition I run, because it's my bby, but I think that there should be some sort of category for best dress up creation. :x
The OOC Thread ══════════════════════════════ Story [TABLE="width: 950, align: center"] For many, many centuries, parents have woven the tale of a magical and wonderful man, a man in a red suit and a very white beard. On one very special night, this man circles the entire globe, giving out presents to the good children of the world who deserved it, and then leaving coal in the stockings of the children who were bad. This man, many have debated, is not real. Perhaps he was once real, a verylong time ago; the man St. Nicholas, and from there, the story evolved. Many say, these days, that the very special night that gifts were given has become a commercial event, a chance to earn profit,and many have seen chance in that and have taken advantage of it. Others have treasured the time as one for family and friends, for gathering, joy, and happiness. However, there is the night before this momentous occasion, the Eve. For years, perhaps centuries, no one knows, something very magical has happened on the Eve. A mysterious train that only a few handfuls ofpeople alive today have seen appears in the neighborhoods of children to take them on a journey, a journey to a place where only children believe in. To the day they grow up, they always believe and continue to urge their own children to believe, believe always. The powerful locomotive is dubbed The Polar Express, and every year on the Eve, it makes its journey to the North Pole to see Santa Claus. [/TABLE] [TABLE="width: 700, align: center"] • This is a PG-rated role-play, and you are among children, this is not a teenager kind of thing, all foul language will be kept at an absolute minimum, if existent at all. • There is absolutely no intense romance of any kind. Innocent hugs, kisses, small crushes at the very most. • No less than four sentences per post • If you have read all of the rules, please add on to your post, in #78a7a7, “Believeâ€. • No godmoddery is allowed • I will godmod to the RP's content to move things along, times will be continuously changing and only I will completely change and create major events • This roleplay requires dedication, because since it simply takes place over one night, I will not see it go unfinished. I will be contacting participants of said roleplay so we can get this done. [/TABLE] [TABLE="width: 700, align: center"] Train Conductor [played by Saxima] This is the man behind the Polar Express, he is the one who keeps the locomotive running smoothly and on time, he takes care of all of the children and tends to their needs as they come. He is a very sternman on the surface, but spend enough time with him and you'll find he's quite whimsical and kind. He firmly believes in the magic andwill stand by it. Santa Claus [played by TwilightBlader]The jolly old man himself, he won't actually make an appearance until towards the end of the role-play, and trust me – this RP will get to the end. Each year, one very special child will receive the first gift of Christmas, and this is for Santa to choose who he deems most worthy. [/TABLE] Opening [TABLE="width: 950, align: center"] On this night, one very special night to many children, a little girl lies in her bed, half-asleep. Many children are as she is, breathing slowly and silently, some actually sleeping deeply, others waiting for a sound they nearly thought they would never hear. The sounding of a man who travels the whole world in one night, handing out gifts to the good little boy sand girls, the sound of Santa's sleigh. Tick tock tick tock tick tock . . . The moving second hand sounded throughout a room of many colors, mostly blues and browns, with some oranges and pinks dashed here and there. Glitterin gstars hung from the ceiling above of different sizes and some of different shapes, and on the surrounding walls where shelves littered with various trinkets and snow globes and small toys and small stuffed animals. All of these differing objects were slightly illuminated by the only light source in the room, albeit a very small one. In the corner, just a few inches from the door, was a small andrather charming Christmas tree, decorated with ornaments of snowmen, ballerinas, snowflakes and so on. Atop the tree was a glowing star,radiating dimly as to not torment the eyes of anyone who looked at it, especially not one sleeping little girl on the other side of theroom. In the bed, under a layer of orange and pink covers, was a mess of brown hair, trying to keep its breathing steady and silent, as to not deter its hearing. The covers were shifted slightly and the forehead of a young girl wasrevealed. She was only half-asleep, listening to the ticking of her clock and something that she was afraid she would never hear. The only words of “truth†that she had to go on was that of her mother and father, who had always, since she was little told her that he was real. He was a jolly old man who flew around the entire world in one night, and he gave gifts to all of the good children. But how could he do all of that? She had never seen him before, putting gifts under her Christmas tree. Mother always told her that he wouldn't come unless she was asleep – but how would he know if she were asleep or not? Tick tock tick tock tick tock . . . Maybe it was possible. As slowly and carefully as possible, the little girl turned on her side to look out the window, continuing to sit on her own thoughts. Just a few moments later, she could hear the coming of her parents voices towards her room. Quickly, just as she had done many times, the little girl fell into the facade of a deep and peaceful sleep, just in time for her door to meekly creak open. “Aw, look at her, already tuckeredout,†came the voice of her mother, “She's really excited for the morning.†Herfather sighed, “Yes . . . However, her excitement just doesn't like her up like it used to. She used to bounce all over the house before we could get her to go to sleep.†When came her mother's voice again, she could hear the frown, “Do you think it's nearly time?†“Every child stops believing eventually.†her father surmised with another sigh, “We can only hope that she'll dream for just a little while longer.†What were they talking about? The child tried impossibly hard to keep herself from making any sort of facial expression, and almost failed.She was caught off guard when she felt the soft and warmness of her mother's lips pressed gently across her cheek, and then her father'swarm and strong hand graced over her forehead, mussing some hair out of her small face. Just a few moments later, her door clicked close and she was left with onlythe ticking of her clock. Sometimes, it was a sound she would focus on to lull herself to sleep on the nights she was unable; other nights, it was a pest that wouldn't keep quiet when she wanted it to so she could sleep. Tick tock tick tock tick tock . . . Right now, it was helping her stay up. She wanted to see the man with her own eyes . .. Was he really real? A breath escaped her tiny pink lips and she relaxed once more. Only . . . . . . The ticking of her clock, it stopped. Her brown eyes opened and she sat up slightly, her elbow propping up her person, and then looked at the blue clock. The second hand was stopped on the twelve – it was 11:55. Just as she had noted the time, things began shaking. It was a subtle thing at first, hardly noticeable, then it grew and grew. The stars dangling from her ceiling began to shake nearly uncontrollably, she thought they were going to fall. Objects on the shelves began dancing around crazily, some making their way off of the edge. In a scare,she sat up completely and watched as things became chaotic in her room – she though there was an earthquake! Swiftly hopping out of her bed, she looked out her window to try and find the source of the near-violent shaking. Right as her eyes peered out the window, a blinding light shown from the snowy outside, causing her to take a few abrupt steps back, nearly falling onto her bed. The light flashed and flashed, and over and over again. An impossibly loud whistle sounded – and it sounded like that of a locomotive. She dashed out of her bed once again to get a better view out the window, and then she was it – a train, and a huge one at that. Gasping, the little girl turned on her toes and yanked her long white coat from the door knob and put on her slippers before dashing out the room and jetting down the stairs. As forcefully and quietly as she could, she threw open her front door to see the long, very long train pulling up down her snowy street. Her face grew into wonder and surprise, she had never really seen a train before in real life, and wondered why there was one off the rail tracks. Slowly, she ventured towards it. [/TABLE] This is now the point of introduction for only the in-train characters
This has just kinda been sitting in my User CP untouched or not updated for a long time . . . I thought it could use a good revival.
Oh gosh, GIMP . . . See, I used Photoshop CS5, and I haven't looked at the user interface of GIMP in so long, I wouldn't know how to write a...
First off, before I do tell you, I need to know what program you use, that way I can actually help you. [I was typing up a tutorial for you in a...
Username: Sophie (Saxima) Doll's name: Corallia Doll: Spoiler
Of course it was a taboo subject, anyone who was smart enough should know that. Like he said earlier, if you were going to talk about something that was near-strictly forbidden, then you should do it somewhere more private. In the middle of class, to ask about World War III, when Professor Daniels had specifically avoided it, was a bad time for its mention. Then again, it was a little surprising that Lex would be the one to mention it, or maybe not . . . And after that, he even pushed for more details, when he should have known better. In the beginning, they administrators had all given them a brief run of World War III, and that was that. What little information they had given was expected to be enough. And for most students, it was, but there were always going to be curious ones. It's not to say that Nix wasn't curious about it, it's just that he knew how to keep his head down and remain out of the very selective view of Mr. Blood and even possibly the extremely elusive Headmaster Rugall and obtain his information otherwise. "Will Professor Daniels please report to my office." came the voice of the Headmaster himself. Nix observed the professors's expression; he visibly swallowed. Poor guy, he was really a nice teacher too. The Headmaster's voice came onto the PA system once more , "Will Lex also please report to Mr. Blood's office for a routine examination. That is all." Translation: Lex needed to go in for a therapy session. Nix watched as the boy gathered up his stuff and solemnly left the class room. "Do you mind taking a look at my drawing?" one student asked the other. Nix was really no longer paying attention to much. When he zoned back in, ". . . so good luck with burning that." Why would you want to burn a piece of art? He glanced over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the work. Professor Daniels was saying "secretssecretssecrets . . ." and he seemed to be screaming at something, scared. He recognized Lex, only he had spiral eyes because he was being hypnotized by a watch, and then there were rows and rows of students, all with tape over their mouths and all wearing prison uniforms. He observed it just a little further. Frida was the one who had said to burn it and for once today, he agreed with her. He listened to what she had to say. "Let's go find out ourselves." she said. And then Lance spoke up, rejecting the idea. Alice replied. "Well then, if you four are done talking about things that could get us hung up in Blood's office or maybe even Rugall's," he began with a relaxed and hushed tone of voice, "Then I recommend that maybe we should all plan to meet somewhere later and talk about things where we are less . . . heard." Just a few minutes after that, the guards dismissed the students for lunch. Nix went outside to the artificial courtyard and spread his wings, flying up to the roof to eat where he usually did. There was a small garden that he tended to there, he was rather fond of plants. It was almost like his secret spot, but not so secret.
This was very lovely, you did a splendid job, Jayn ~ ♥ It was both terrifying and adorable at the same time. Well, I can't wait for Burgundy Souls, good luck with it!
I don't know, it looks a little humorous. I might go see it, depending on later trailers closer to the movie's release. Gosh . . . Only Disney.
Ahahahah, I've never seen that. That's hilarious. They should do that with the Old Spice dude.
Cool, looks pretty interesting. I just hope the gameplay is good as well.
Usually, I set the deadline about a week from the day the thread is posted, and then I put up the poll for voting.
It's a little depressing that the booths look pretty empty, but E3 this year didn't have many guests because of the many let downs that were shown. Those headphones look pretty great, I wouldn't mind having a pair.
Not particularly, no. Why do you ask?
To be honest, I never really thought about this much until I looked at this thread. A long time ago, there was something that I began to always say when things were looking rather grim, to reassure myself and my loved ones. "Everything will be alright." Nothing particularly intelligent, I don't pretend to be what I'm not, but this always seems to be the case. No matter what one is going through right at this moment, everything will be okay in the end, even if everything is horrid right until the curtain drops. In recent months, I've been noticeably saying it less and less, more things are starting to take a toll on my mind and body, but I still stand by it, even when all seems lost.
