I was wondering if there was any intrest in one. I used to run these on occasion, it's very simple. A basic plotline is come up with. Then everybody starts with a narrative of their "character"'s actions within the narrative. Essentially, the only rules is you alone are allowed to control YOUR characters actions, and you can't "godmode". Other then that, as long as you've got an imagination, sky's the limit.

I tried starting a similar thing in this thread here. However, no one seemed interested in that thread, so...I kinda doubt they'd be interested in what you're proposing. Maybe I'm wrong, perhaps they will be, but then I'd be curious to know why they weren't interested in my thread.

You are one of the top Problem Sleuths in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hard boiled tonight.

What will you do?

I'll waste him with my crossbow!

Erhm...no...that's...not it. It's much more similar to what Parabollus was talking about.

It's a sunny day in the superunknown. I get up in the middle of the day and, the first thing I have to do, like every day, is to comb my beautiful black hair. I mean, black is the only color my hair can have, how else am I able to express my despair and sadness but through my stylish, long, black hair.
One.
Two.
Three little combs.
Four.
Five.
OH NO! MY COMB BROKE! I CAN'T BEAR THIS WORLD ANYMORE, I HAVE TO QUIT. So, like any good, emotionally stable boy who just had his life shattered, I hope to my computer and log into my favorite forum, informing all of my friends that, yes, THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE STRAW BROKE THE CAMELS BACK. I just can not take it anymore, that was my favorite comb. I am sure my friends will understand that now I want to end it all.
Okay, posted, and ooooh, so much attention, I love it, I need it I CRAVE IT! Man, this is good. I need more of it. Screw suiciding, I'll become an attention whore! But...I won't tell them, nyahahaha. I do so like pity for my poor, poor ego.



THERE, WHO WANTS TO CONTINUE NAOH?

Oh that's perf-No.

I'll just have to update the rules to ban lonely socially inept men that are overcompensating for something.

Mods anywhere, since there's an obvious lack of intrest, might I request a lock?

Why do you not want to participate in your own game? D:

It is a midsummer night's eve, and all is quiet. I scale the wall of the compound, intent on finding my victim. I am one of the few assassins capable of dealing with such an insane person. He has almost singlehandedly brought the allied countries of this world to their knees, over and over again does he crush the wills of all that would stand in his way. I slink along the dark granite walls, ever watchful, ever vigilant. As I pass by one of the compound's many doors, it opens and I'm forced to jump away into the shadows, lest I be seen.

A giant lumbering monstrosity exits from the door, and I gasp unintentionally, whispering, "It is one of his Lolcat minions..."Fear wells up inside of me and I fight not to let it control my actions as I walk instead of run away. I look up upon the compound and through a single window is a gleaming light. 'That must be his lair!' I think to myself. My task is almost done.

As I prepare to climb the wall, a screeching roar can be heard, I turn around quickly to find myself face to face with one of his Lolcat Monstrosities.

"CAN I HAZ A CHEESBURGER!" it screams viciously at me, intent on driving me insane. It lunges towards me and I dash to the side. It attempts to slash at me with its claws but I duck beneath them, kicking it in its lolcat balls as I dodge between its legs. While it's doubled over, I leap onto its back and begin slamming it in the back of the head, over, and over again.

"CAN I HAZ, CAN I HAZ, CAN I HAZ, CAN I HAZ" it begins to mumble as its thoughts become muddled because I am so furiously pounding upon its brain. As it collapses, I wipe the viscera from my face and hands and return to the task at hand. I unsheathe my grappling gun and shoot it towards the roof, and it catches, hanging taut. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I idly wonder if it is an omen of things to come. Scaling the roof, I finally get to the window, and in a quick move I break through it, rolling across the carpet before standing abruptly, a dagger in my hand. Where my victim had been a moment ago, he is now gone. Anticipation floods through me as I hear a voice behind me.

"Sneaky bitch is sneaky." It says. I whirl around to face this man that has almost destroyed the world two times over, I turn around and I stare him right in the eyes.

"Parabollus." I whisper furiously. He smiles a dark dark smile, filled with dark dark thoughts, and the promise of lolcats.

"Yes! It is meme--I mean me." He begins to cackle, and I run at him, he must be taught his lesson! Time slows as he pulls out a gun. It is like an assault rifle shotgun, but bigger and scarier. This must be the weapon I have heard he carried. I am told that he calls it "Zenobia." He begins to shoot it at me, over and over, vicious metal slugs slinging through the air at me. My muscles tense as time seems to slow down. My back contorts as I bend over backwards, my arms at my sides as dozens of bullets shoot overhead, as I watch beneath them, my legs bent at an unnatural angle.

Zenobia clicks empty and I lunge at Parabollus, as I meet him in battle he backhands me, and I fall to the ground, blood dripping from my lip. He grins again, and I pause. An idea. I jump back up and grab onto Zenobia, ripping it from his grasp.

"No!" he screams, "Nooooooo!!!!!!!", he roars once more. "LEAVE ZENOBIA ALONE!" Parabollus screams as his eyes begin to tear up, and his hands begin to shake. With a deft movement, I throw the gun out of the window. The depth of his rage is unknown as he runs at me, screaming "I AM GOING TO ROUNDHOUSE KICK YOU SO HARD!" As he bears down on me, I recognize his Crouching Tiger, Hidden Chuck Norris style, and an age old adage comes to mind. "Who would win in a fight between Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee?" I realize my only salvation and quickly shift my stance into one capable of withstanding a Chuck Norris roundhouse. I prepare to retaliate with the Bruce Lee curse. Death by Misadventure!

With a primal scream I launch myself at Parabollus, my hands curled into pincers and the stance causing my 24 pack of abs to bulge against my stomach.

"Waa-taaaahh!" I scream as my hand comes into contact with Parabollus' tremendous kick. We are both thrown back by a sonic boom, myself against the bookshelf, where the book "How to use the uncontrollable Emotions of depression in forum warfare" falls onto my lap. I sit dazed as I realize that Parabollus has been flung out the window.

I limp over to the window, and see his twisted body far beneath. With a sigh of relief, I slump against the wall. Unfortunately, I fail to see the twitch of his arms, and how his eyes turn red as he begins to breathe in and out deeply. Kuuuhhhhhhh-khhhhhhh, kuhhhhhhhhhh-khhhhhhhhh, kuhhhhhhhh-khhhh.....

So about that Astraea? Hot piece of ass. And I had my hands all over that 24 abs already, I tell you. She's a tiger in bed.

Just as long as I'm not a crouching tiger. I don't do that sort of thing Ash.

Don't worry, you know that we only did the latter part of crouching tiger, hidden weiner.

The thing about nuance is that it's supposed to be nuanced. You know, witty and funny because you're not exactly saying something.


I don't think the word 'wiener' is nuanced. ANYWAY GUYZ, THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE SERIOUS NARRATIVE GAME TIME.

I told you, I prefer blunt and direct. Like our dirty sex last night. Uhuh.

Please don't get me forum banned, Ashteru.

Edit: Yeah, let's get a lock in here, mods. Before this trainwreck wrecks any more trains.

I hear a loud rumble from outside my office, gunshots, the whole works. I look around my office for a brief moment, a small desk and a chair, gun sitting right out on the middle of the desk, a safe, and a large urban mural on the far wall. Cost me a small fortune to put it in, but I really feel it spices up the place. Also, a coffee machine. Feel particularly hard-boiled tonight, I decide to open the door and see what the ruckus is all about instead of the normal cowering under my desk. As I attempt to open the door, something seems to be blocking it or it seems to be stuck. Pondering for a moment, I grab a large brick off my desk attempt to shatter the glass that made up the top part of my door. Instead, it dislodged the paper that was the part that I thought was glass. I quickly grabbed the piece of paper and put it in my inventory. There seemed to be some numbers on it, but I ignored them for now.

However shall I escape from this room? I realized I could shoot the door open with my pistol that was on my desk. I go to grab my gun and find a set of keys. The whole leaving a gun out on the desk seems rather reckless, doesn't it? I pick up the keys and try them on the door, but the gun doesn't seem to fit the lock. I put the gun and brick in my inventory. I suddenly realized the numbers must go to my safe! It go up to my safe, attempt to put in the numbers, and... the safe comes off the wall, revealing a painting behind it. I remove the painting from the wall and reveal a safe behind it! I use the numbers to unlock the safe, but before I can open it and reveal its contents, the phone rings.

I leap across the room and answer the phone on my desk. It was a dame who needed my help to solve some weird puzzles. I told her that I sympathized, but I also had to deal with my own weird puzzle crap. I hung up the phone the flung it out the window, onto the ground several stories below. To conserve power, I unplug my window, turning the outside landscape darker than it was. I place several shards of the broken glass into my inventory. I finish opening my safe to discover a slingshot and a collapsible ladder. I remove the window from the wall after placing the slingshot in my equipment, the glass shards automatically equipping themselves as ammunition. Carefully, I plug the window back in and place in on the ground. I slowly lower the ladder out of the window and climb out after it, finding myself outside the building my office is in.

I run inside the building, take the elevator to my floor, and find a large bust of Snoop Dogg to be blocking my door. I ponder where the noises have come from and ponder where these noises could have come from.

I love this thread.

Well, SOMEONE needs to control their character or someone else needs to start a new one.