ell a long time ago i swore stupidly i'd stay till the end, at the time i thought that meant when the servers went down because there was nothing left and the saga and story ended. It's abundantly clear over time i grew bitter and tired of this place, and i'm certainly not the only one.

It's sort of like living somewhere you've been for a long time, and watching so many people in the neighborhood up and leave as it falls to pieces, sure people are here that are worth our time, but the landlords aren't worth jack ****. I've been a part of this game since the 'death' of morpheus event's just prior to our dear friend the assassins ordeal. I've had a wonderful time and truly poisoned myself with the quality that once was mxo. A long time ago this game had an unending story full of amazing and talented charachters and proved to be stimulating enough to almost pose a threat to my real life. Now i might as well call mxo bench sit simulator online.

I've been here a long time, and i've just gotten to the point where i have to stop it, i'm tired of paying someone to ignore me. I've not even been able to write anything the way i used to because i've just been so uninspired but what the story here has become, and i know people always have the mentality that it's up to us - but in truth if i wanted everything to be up to me i'd play second life. I want to write for a charachter or charachters in a play or story, not write the entire thing.

I could generate a list of people to thank or give nods to in order to part with sweeter words, but in truth i'm always going to be around, Darminian is my gaming name sake - i won't be abandoning it when i leave this place -and with the people i've encountered here i hope to encounter many more of you out there in other games and possible mmo's in the future. If you ever interacted with me in any capacity that was enjoyable then it was certainly felt both ways and appreciated.

The biggest thanks i have goes out to people who actually put their own time and resources into making this place better - the hardest effort with the least tools.

There's more that could be said but i think i'll end it on that note - thanks again for the good times for the most part.

~Darminian

-Mike

Because phrack got one.

Have a good one my dear.

~Darminian

Do i win?

First?

Anyways yeah this update sure is something.

~Darminian

 ======

GreyMountain looked at the others in disgust and chuckled. "Do you honestly think you're going to get into a club wearing THAT garishly pink outfit?" Grey shook his head and strode ahead of the rest down the puddle strewn street.

"Dude. These Gi's will get you in anywhere. And I swear, once you've worn it you'll never go out without it." Odj replied.

"Yeah. Just because you can't be arsed to get one, don't knock you a**." Darminian responded sharply.

On the horizon a large neon sign beamed out a fluorescent light. In large blue letters the words 'Club Janus' beamed down the block. Granted the J was flashing off and on, and the neighbourhood wasn't exactly in the best shape it had been in. But this club was the place to be. "I don't intend to be wearing such a god awful outfit when I try and hit on the supreme women we'll be seeing tonight." Said Grey, gradually distancing himself from the crowd.

"I bet you I'll get more action than you do tonight." Chortled Windfaller, raising Grey the finger.

"Ha. Yeah, while you may think that suit number looks good, it won't get anywhere tonight. These Gi's will be the life of the party. I might let you take some of the dropouts thought." Odj said, bursting out in hysterics.

"And what's with that silly beret Grey? You look...I dunno...you just look stupid." Retorted Darminian.

"Hey, don't knock the beret. Just cos you can't pull it off with that ridiculous metal head mask." GreyMountain said, feeling quite hurt. "I'll have you know this is a very fashionable piece right now."

"Yeah, fashionable for idiots" Laughed ExternalError.

"Shut-up baldy" barked everyone in unison.

The club approached. The hum of a nearby searchlight pierced the otherwise silent night. The further the group of Neonates got to the club, the more the bass from the club could be felt. A couple of women walked past the crowd, slightly tipsy. GreyMountain gave them a wink. The two women stopped, gave a disapproving look and turned to the 4 in pink. They giggled and started chatting to the guys.

"God-dammit." GreyMountain dropped his head despondently and marched to the club.

The queue for the club was huge. The red rope stretched for seemingly miles. Behind it stood hundreds of women in the skimpiest, tightest clothes imaginable. Interspersed were smartly dressed men laughing and chatting up the women. At the doors to the club stood 5 burly bouncers. Each more menacing than the last. Undoubtedly strong programs designed to keep all trouble out.

GreyMountain and other 4 took up their spot in the queue. A few ladies turned round and ogled at the pink outfits. The owners of the clothing just tipped their hats and smiled. "Starting to doubt the outfits now then Grey?" Smiled Ex.

GreyMountain snorted, "Just wait till I start to show my stuff off on the dance floor. Then you'll be sorry.

The 5 Neonates approached the doors. Odj nodded to the bouncers. "Evening gentlemen." Said one of the bouncers, as he unclipped the rope and motioned for the group to enter. One by one the group entered, until GreyMountain approached. A large hand was raised and pressed against GreyMountain's chest. Despite trying he couldn't move past. "Sorry sir. But the dress-code is smart and fashionable."

"Yeah. So let me in" Said GreyMountain, brushing down his shirt. "This is smart and fashionable, or have you suddenly become blind?"

"Sir, I advise you to stay calm. You're 'costume' is not acceptable for the club. We prefer people to take pride in their appearance." Replied the bouncer slightly sarcastically. A couple of women with long flowing blonde hair walked past. Their high heels clattering against the pavement.

"Costume! You call this a costume." Said GreyMountain angrily. "Why you..." GreyMountain punched the bouncer square in the jaw. The queue behind him gasped in astonishment. The bouncers face jarred to the right.

GreyMountain smiled with a sense of achievement. The bouncer shook his head and turned back to Grey. GreyMountain's smile disappeared. "Perhaps you can take a leaf out of your friend's book. Now they have the right idea." GreyMountain turned to Odj, Darminian, Windfaller and ExternalError. They all laughed and pointed at Grey.

The bouncer picked GreyMountain up by the scruff of his neck. With a flick of his arm, GreyMountain was sent hurling toward the curb. With a large thump he landed in the gutter. His four friends peered from round the door and laughed. "Have a good night. Don't pick up too many women Grey." Said Windfaller, managing to hold back the laughter and tears.

GreyMountain picked himself up from the ground. Taking off his now soaking wet jacket he mumbled to himself. "B*stards and their fancy Gi. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Crap, crap, crap." He brushed the mud of his knees before slowly walking back from where he had just been.

The club and its patrons carried on regardless. The 4 remaining Neonates went to the bar and ordered their beers. "To GreyMountain!" They all laughed, clinking their bottles together before downing the beer.

Darminian wiped his mouth and put his bottle back onto the bar. "Ahhh. Now then, I think it's time to start talking to the ladies. Excuse me boys." The other 3 raised their bottles and cheered.

Back on street level. In the cold crisp air a loud cry came from the horizon. "DAMMIT! Now I'm going to have to get a Gi."

GreyMountain looked at the others in disgust and chuckled. "Do you honestly think you're going to get into a club wearing THAT garishly pink outfit?" Grey shook his head and strode ahead of the rest down the puddle strewn street.

"Dude. These Gi's will get you in anywhere. And I swear, once you've worn it you'll never go out without it." Odj replied.

"Yeah. Just because you can't be arsed to get one, don't knock you a**." Darminian responded sharply.

On the horizon a large neon sign beamed out a fluorescent light. In large blue letters the words 'Club Janus' beamed down the block. Granted the J was flashing off and on, and the neighbourhood wasn't exactly in the best shape it had been in. But this club was the place to be. "I don't intend to be wearing such a god awful outfit when I try and hit on the supreme women we'll be seeing tonight." Said Grey, gradually distancing himself from the crowd.

"I bet you I'll get more action than you do tonight." Chortled Windfaller, raising Grey the finger.

"Ha. Yeah, while you may think that suit number looks good, it won't get anywhere tonight. These Gi's will be the life of the party. I might let you take some of the dropouts thought." Odj said, bursting out in hysterics.

"And what's with that silly beret Grey? You look...I dunno...you just look stupid." Retorted Darminian.

"Hey, don't knock the beret. Just cos you can't pull it off with that ridiculous metal head mask." GreyMountain said, feeling quite hurt. "I'll have you know this is a very fashionable piece right now."

"Yeah, fashionable for idiots" Laughed ExternalError.

"Shut-up baldy" barked everyone in unison.

The club approached. The hum of a nearby searchlight pierced the otherwise silent night. The further the group of Neonates got to the club, the more the bass from the club could be felt. A couple of women walked past the crowd, slightly tipsy. GreyMountain gave them a wink. The two women stopped, gave a disapproving look and turned to the 4 in pink. They giggled and started chatting to the guys.

"God-dammit." GreyMountain dropped his head despondently and marched to the club.

The queue for the club was huge. The red rope stretched for seemingly miles. Behind it stood hundreds of women in the skimpiest, tightest clothes imaginable. Interspersed were smartly dressed men laughing and chatting up the women. At the doors to the club stood 5 burly bouncers. Each more menacing than the last. Undoubtedly strong programs designed to keep all trouble out.

GreyMountain and other 4 took up their spot in the queue. A few ladies turned round and ogled at the pink outfits. The owners of the clothing just tipped their hats and smiled. "Starting to doubt the outfits now then Grey?" Smiled Ex.

GreyMountain snorted, "Just wait till I start to show my stuff off on the dance floor. Then you'll be sorry.

The 5 Neonates approached the doors. Odj nodded to the bouncers. "Evening gentlemen." Said one of the bouncers, as he unclipped the rope and motioned for the group to enter. One by one the group entered, until GreyMountain approached. A large hand was raised and pressed against GreyMountain's chest. Despite trying he couldn't move past. "Sorry sir. But the dress-code is smart and fashionable."

"Yeah. So let me in" Said GreyMountain, brushing down his shirt. "This is smart and fashionable, or have you suddenly become blind?"

"Sir, I advise you to stay calm. You're 'costume' is not acceptable for the club. We prefer people to take pride in their appearance." Replied the bouncer slightly sarcastically. A couple of women with long flowing blonde hair walked past. Their high heels clattering against the pavement.

"Costume! You call this a costume." Said GreyMountain angrily. "Why you..." GreyMountain punched the bouncer square in the jaw. The queue behind him gasped in astonishment. The bouncers face jarred to the right.

GreyMountain smiled with a sense of achievement. The bouncer shook his head and turned back to Grey. GreyMountain's smile disappeared. "Perhaps you can take a leaf out of your friend's book. Now they have the right idea." GreyMountain turned to Odj, Darminian, Windfaller and ExternalError. They all laughed and pointed at Grey.

The bouncer picked GreyMountain up by the scruff of his neck. With a flick of his arm, GreyMountain was sent hurling toward the curb. With a large thump he landed in the gutter. His four friends peered from round the door and laughed. "Have a good night. Don't pick up too many women Grey." Said Windfaller, managing to hold back the laughter and tears.

GreyMountain picked himself up from the ground. Taking off his now soaking wet jacket he mumbled to himself. "B*stards and their fancy Gi. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Crap, crap, crap." He brushed the mud of his knees before slowly walking back from where he had just been.

The club and its patrons carried on regardless. The 4 remaining Neonates went to the bar and ordered their beers. "To GreyMountain!" They all laughed, clinking their bottles together before downing the beer.

Darminian wiped his mouth and put his bottle back onto the bar. "Ahhh. Now then, I think it's time to start talking to the ladies. Excuse me boys." The other 3 raised their bottles and cheered.

Back on street level. In the cold crisp air a loud cry came from the horizon. "DAMMIT! Now I'm going to have to get a Gi."

(Brilliant picture provided by Endless Void.)

================================

A vile and thick fog filled the streets of mega city as pale moonlight clung to the outlines of shadows and illuminated the mist. Block after block of the city was completely deserted and empty save for the
silvery fog rolling around aimlessly, ceaselessly spreading. The street lights flickered quietly to themselves, as if silent resistance to the fog was slowly failing them as even their light did little more
then fall easily into the nothingness below. A trip down a small alleyway, not even a side street would yield the sight of two men outside a rough looking metal door, the first was pressed against the wall,
his arm held behind his back. The other held it in place with ease as his eyes looked over the door.

"This is it then?" The one staring at the door asked.

"Yes!" The other replied in agony his resistance only causing him more pain.

With his free hand he reached down and opened the door, and stared curiously at the door on the outside of a building that lead to the outside of another building. With a twist of his occupied hand he forced
his friend through the door and followed closely behind, closing the door after him. They emerged on a street facing a small city block, but behind them there was a seemingly endless ocean of grey nothingness.
Tree's and cars floating around at different heights, a pink and blue sky painted above them but below the city block was nothing - it seemed to float there aimlessly.

"What is this place?"

"Heck if i know but i showed you where it is - can i go now?"

"What? - Oh yeah sure, i'm done with you."

The man's scream filled the air for only a short while as he plummeted into the grey abyss below, his features growing smaller and smaller until he could be seen no longer, Darminian brushed his hands and moved
towards the city block. After wandering aimlessly for a short while he came across an area similar to debir court - it's strange familiarity was upset by an even stranger feeling in his gut. He moved across the
court taking in the sights and sounds, there wasn't the familiar echo of traffic or people through the area, but it seemed so similar - the faintest footsteps could be heard close by - very close by.

A gloved hand reached into his coat slowly before flying out of it with a pistol in hand. As he looked to where he'd heard the steps the gentle wizzing of the shuriken cutting through the air caught him off guard as it planted itself in his thigh. Where his aim rested he'd barely caught a glimpse of a long strand of material at around head height zipping by the dumpsters quickly. He lead the target on and fired a few shots, ripping the shuriken out of his thigh he chased after the target. Where the shots had landed there was a piece of stray material - a headband of sorts. His attention quickly turned to his side and he saw the target flee through a nearby door.

Minutes later he was creeping up on the target along the catwalk of a warehouse - her frame was slender and she wore a traditional style gi, her headband was something out of an old ninja movie he inched closer, sure he'd not been detected when to his absolute surprise she'd spun on the spot and kicked him in the head, sending him toppling over the edge of the catwalk. His body hit the ground with a loud thud, as he groaned in pain rolling onto his back and staring upwards - before he'd even turned all the way over his eyes caught the woman falling through the air towards him - her knees extended to collide with him. In the last possible second he rolled to his side and watched her collide with the ground, her eyes turned to look at him sprawled on his back with his pistol pointed right at her - two shots rang out and she crumpled to the floor.

Getting to his feet he began to dust himself off as he watched the cloud of smoke show up and the body dissapear - in the same instant a wrecking ball of force collided with his back sending him across the floor, he turned in time to
see another female ninja of a different color standing before him - poised in a martial arts stance.

"what in the hel..."

The woman reached into her gi and withdrew a few shurikens aiming down at her target- when suddenly a black hole of code ripped itself wide in the wall of the warehouse and both parties stared dumb-struck at it - a long black tentacle
ripped forwards and gripped the ninja's leg dragging it towards the hole. She kicked and shoved and clawed trying to keep herself in place but to no avail as her frame was sucked into the blackness and dissapeared. There was a sort of slurping popping noise that emmanated from the wall before it seemed to pour itself from the brick and stone into a man's frame. Darminian looked on in surprise before it all started to make sense - the white haired individual with no eyes stretched out in a strange inhuman manner before licking his fingers lightly.

"Ah - here you are Darminian."

"Bottomless......what a.....pleasure?" He asked more then stated.

The void seemed to float more then walk towards him as he turned his head in another inhuman fashion a dark and  playful manner present despite the fact that he'd literally just consumed a code entity whole.

"I understand you're the man to see about kernel acquisition."

"Uh...yeah i know how to get them."

The void offered a hand to him while he was on the floor, the look of bewilderment of Darminian's face said volumes about the awkwardness of the situation, a moment passed before he accepted it, half expecting to come to the same fate as the ninja he'd just encountered.

"Do you think you could help me acquire one?"

"I...uh... tell you what - " He finally manged the cogs finally working again.

"You help me take care of this little ninja problem, and i'll help you deal with those oligarch code puppets."

Darminian spit out noting that in a cloud of smoke another ninja had arrived. The void turned with a sigh, before kicking the ninja into a pile of boxes just beyond the two of them.

"Very well human."

"Easy now bottomless - they seem to be getting stronger."

The two turned to watch as the same ninja emerged from the box with twice as many shurikens in it's hands.


======

The stuff you really care about!
======

Tommorow we will be farming a ninja box or two in Sati's construct before moving the entire group to the oligarch hide out to help anyone who wants a kernel get one - it's going to be sloppy and chaotic, but the goal is to get enough people on board to overpower the stupidity.

We'll meet up in the warehouse in sati's to start off with kuniochi box then move on to the construct where in which the team or hopefully teams will be recalled and an order of loot we'll be sorted out, i'll be staying until everyone has one or my eyes fall out of my head.

Yes endlessvoid will be making a cameo, no he won't be signing autographs. 

(Brilliant picture provided by Endless Void.)

================================

A vile and thick fog filled the streets of mega city as pale moonlight clung to the outlines of shadows and illuminated the mist. Block after block of the city was completely deserted and empty save for the
silvery fog rolling around aimlessly, ceaselessly spreading. The street lights flickered quietly to themselves, as if silent resistance to the fog was slowly failing them as even their light did little more
then fall easily into the nothingness below. A trip down a small alleyway, not even a side street would yield the sight of two men outside a rough looking metal door, the first was pressed against the wall,
his arm held behind his back. The other held it in place with ease as his eyes looked over the door.

"This is it then?" The one staring at the door asked.

"Yes!" The other replied in agony his resistance only causing him more pain.

With his free hand he reached down and opened the door, and stared curiously at the door on the outside of a building that lead to the outside of another building. With a twist of his occupied hand he forced
his friend through the door and followed closely behind, closing the door after him. They emerged on a street facing a small city block, but behind them there was a seemingly endless ocean of grey nothingness.
Tree's and cars floating around at different heights, a pink and blue sky painted above them but below the city block was nothing - it seemed to float there aimlessly.

"What is this place?"

"Heck if i know but i showed you where it is - can i go now?"

"What? - Oh yeah sure, i'm done with you."

The man's scream filled the air for only a short while as he plummeted into the grey abyss below, his features growing smaller and smaller until he could be seen no longer, Darminian brushed his hands and moved
towards the city block. After wandering aimlessly for a short while he came across an area similar to debir court - it's strange familiarity was upset by an even stranger feeling in his gut. He moved across the
court taking in the sights and sounds, there wasn't the familiar echo of traffic or people through the area, but it seemed so similar - the faintest footsteps could be heard close by - very close by.

A gloved hand reached into his coat slowly before flying out of it with a pistol in hand. As he looked to where he'd heard the steps the gentle wizzing of the shuriken cutting through the air caught him off guard as it planted itself in his thigh. Where his aim rested he'd barely caught a glimpse of a long strand of material at around head height zipping by the dumpsters quickly. He lead the target on and fired a few shots, ripping the shuriken out of his thigh he chased after the target. Where the shots had landed there was a piece of stray material - a headband of sorts. His attention quickly turned to his side and he saw the target flee through a nearby door.

Minutes later he was creeping up on the target along the catwalk of a warehouse - her frame was slender and she wore a traditional style gi, her headband was something out of an old ninja movie he inched closer, sure he'd not been detected when to his absolute surprise she'd spun on the spot and kicked him in the head, sending him toppling over the edge of the catwalk. His body hit the ground with a loud thud, as he groaned in pain rolling onto his back and staring upwards - before he'd even turned all the way over his eyes caught the woman falling through the air towards him - her knees extended to collide with him. In the last possible second he rolled to his side and watched her collide with the ground, her eyes turned to look at him sprawled on his back with his pistol pointed right at her - two shots rang out and she crumpled to the floor.

Getting to his feet he began to dust himself off as he watched the cloud of smoke show up and the body dissapear - in the same instant a wrecking ball of force collided with his back sending him across the floor, he turned in time to
see another female ninja of a different color standing before him - poised in a martial arts stance.

"what in the hel..."

The woman reached into her gi and withdrew a few shurikens aiming down at her target- when suddenly a black hole of code ripped itself wide in the wall of the warehouse and both parties stared dumb-struck at it - a long black tentacle
ripped forwards and gripped the ninja's leg dragging it towards the hole. She kicked and shoved and clawed trying to keep herself in place but to no avail as her frame was sucked into the blackness and dissapeared. There was a sort of slurping popping noise that emmanated from the wall before it seemed to pour itself from the brick and stone into a man's frame. Darminian looked on in surprise before it all started to make sense - the white haired individual with no eyes stretched out in a strange inhuman manner before licking his fingers lightly.

"Ah - here you are Darminian."

"Bottomless......what a.....pleasure?" He asked more then stated.

The void seemed to float more then walk towards him as he turned his head in another inhuman fashion a dark and  playful manner present despite the fact that he'd literally just consumed a code entity whole.

"I understand you're the man to see about kernel acquisition."

"Uh...yeah i know how to get them."

The void offered a hand to him while he was on the floor, the look of bewilderment of Darminian's face said volumes about the awkwardness of the situation, a moment passed before he accepted it, half expecting to come to the same fate as the ninja he'd just encountered.

"Do you think you could help me acquire one?"

"I...uh... tell you what - " He finally manged the cogs finally working again.

"You help me take care of this little ninja problem, and i'll help you deal with those oligarch code puppets."

Darminian spit out noting that in a cloud of smoke another ninja had arrived. The void turned with a sigh, before kicking the ninja into a pile of boxes just beyond the two of them.

"Very well human."

"Easy now bottomless - they seem to be getting stronger."

The two turned to watch as the same ninja emerged from the box with twice as many shurikens in it's hands.


======

The stuff you really care about!
======

Tommorow we will be farming a ninja box or two in Sati's construct before moving the entire group to the oligarch hide out to help anyone who wants a kernel get one - it's going to be sloppy and chaotic, but the goal is to get enough people on board to overpower the stupidity.

We'll meet up in the warehouse in sati's to start off with kuniochi box then move on to the construct where in which the team or hopefully teams will be recalled and an order of loot we'll be sorted out, i'll be staying until everyone has one or my eyes fall out of my head.

Yes endlessvoid will be making a cameo, no he won't be signing autographs. 

Now before all the happy go lucky naive morons jump in and make me ignite my flame thrower, don't be too quick to judge, i've decided to put aside my bias towards all the general problems i have with mxo and simply provide an opinionated view on the recent update/updates. Though i fear that the ice in hell may cause problems i may even have some positive things to say.

=

12.1 crits, new gear aswell as function construct

The new style of missions is a sort of win lose scenario, it's a desperately needed change to the archaic and redundant style of old what with the kill this, search this, upload this and blah blah blah. A special nicety rests in the value of forcing the players to actually travel around the city as opposed to gathering in one area where inevitably players will show up with half-thought out charachters to attempt deep and insightful rp that's as redundant as ever.

Despite my usual reaction to the majority of  'story' presented by rarebit this most recent view of the return of trinity aswell as the deeper insight into ghost is quite interesting. I really enjoy the concept of a man both supported and crushed by destiny, as a great philosopher it's interesting to see ghost confront silent inner demons while trying to maintain a general karmic positivity within the world around him. Though i see the grounds for it to turn into some horrible jerry springer like event nonsense in the future, there's a great deal of potential and cool story concepts that rest within it. It's also especially nice to sort of step back to a closer tie to the movies, as these wireframes and see through bubblegum people have sort of become annoying.

The cinematic was entertaining and intersting, though i stand by my past opinions that the quality should be better, and if it can't be then it shouldn't be something effort is wasted on, but all the same it was an interesting watch, and brought up some neat discussions and questions in faction chat. The arrival of two new 'oligarchs' is something i'm not crazy about but the whole oligarch story has been a little less then impressive to me, though i'm still following with more interest now but still not digging the bubblegum people.

In terms of the new NPC's, the functions are difficult especially as they work together, but ultimately i find them to be lacking in terms of interlock combat or a challenge, so much as one simply has to avoid the logic cannon of the second npc they'll inevitably fight. It's challenging especially solo but at least not impossible. The executeables are a fairly neat twist in terms of the usual enemies, i especially appreciate the different means people have tried and succeeded with in taking them down.

Moving forward in that light the new pseudo-construct downtown that houses the overides and serves as a sort of instance if you will is actually quite cool - granted it's nothing we've not seen before in terms of texture but it's neat that it's so high above the city and that it does have a sort of tactical necessity in order to complete it. The level 70 is quite a boss to be reckoned with especially now that everyone still seems to have more theories then confirmed efforts against it, taking one down is quite a challenge let alone dealing with his high level guard spawns. There's some neat little short cuts and helpful things you can do along the way that might not be intentional but are certainly fairly interesting in terms of planning and execution.Granted were still talking about farming, but when the effort is working to kill one guy as opposed to killing 500 it's a little more enjoyable albeit much more difficult.

The refresh rate isn't too painful which is nice, but the npc's have a sort of tendency of bugging out and unintentionally patrolling the area, also the random people who run through and pull the mobs can really easily mess the group up. As fun as the construct is there's a whole lot of potential for griefing. Also there are a few things that bothered me - there doesn't really seem to be a way to stop additional spawns from the executeable, it was theorized he coudln't do it in interlock but craftyzee and his team myself included who farmed several kernels can confirm the best way to do it is take him out asap - as is usually the case.

What also bothered me was that the same consumeable (the runtime anti-overide) which is credited as stopping enemies from spawning additional support on you and apparently/allegedly worked on danielle wright does not work for the executeables. I understand that it's a different update, but either it should specifify it only works for wright or it should work - i think it would be more interesting if the patches had more ties to one another - like say you could get some of the stuff you needed to farm enxt update in this one or at least tools that could help you. Also the logic i'm inclined to apply is that it prevents oligarch programs or bodies from spawning additional support on me. If it works on wright, why wouldn't it work on these ones, but this is a rather minute detail. I'm only really upset as i got my hands on 10 of them, only to find out they don't work.

===

And thus we move to the swag - the loot- the quested after items that most of us will acquire much sooner then we logically soon, or we'll crave so long and hard that the final achievement of said item will leave you unfufilled. Moving forward -

Pheonix items - All in all, i'm not really impressed, i mean i'll admit i don't know how long it takes to make clothing in game, but i do know that if i've already seen it you're going to have a hard time convincing me it took a lot of effort. I have the pheonix shirt and i'm really unimpressed granted not surprised, but i have the time to grind and i figured i'd try it before knocking it. The gear is clearly for lower levels, but aside from the buffs the general look or appeal is just not there for me - granted that's subjective but a lot of people seem to share the same sentiment.

The beret - It's a pretty good item, accuracy and dmg can do no wrong, not to mention it looks cool, and it's got the SSR logo as a few people really wanted to see in game, i can only imagine should the ssr trend continue we'll wind up with swat stuff, but i stand by i hope it's done in pieces so the farming can be extended without being redundant - i know that statement sounds rediculous but i'll come back to it.

The earing - The fact that you need to run through the missions twice irks me, i don't mind farming things from the same people but literally re-running the same mission over again i think is blatantly unappealing and bluntly an effort of just taking up time, it could be argued it's there to make you take a second look at the missions but i can tell you it's raining when it might not be if you catch my drift. The item looks good on females but i've yet to see a male where it was animated properly not to mention looked less then rediculous. Again subjective, i managed to trade mine to someone so who knows.

The boots- Basically retextured boots already in game they look kind of cool but for the level of farming required and the fact that you need a friend in the org or an alt i don't really have the desire but if you've got a lupine fetish or RP one then why not, it goes well with the earing i suppose.

The shirt - Again it strikes me as an item prodominantly for females as it just doesn't look very good on males, it's your taste and your clal but ultimately i fail to find the appeal in this shirt......well actually i failed to find the appeal in this shirt till i saw nicks wearing it.

Finally:

The skull cap - I don't really get why anyone would want this on it's own, i mean not only is it outwardly a pain to farm but it doesn't really look good or serve a logical purpose, even the collector wearing it sort of shows you why you shouldn't bother. But if your after the header you need it so by all means.

The mask - A fairly cool object actually, it's a skin tight cut out that doesn't show your eyes which is a nice change from most of the gear, it's also nice to have male face masks as like many other things we'd been told it couldn't be done. I hope to see eventually a male ninja mask as it would practically be the same thing as the header with the eye area simply removed so the flesh could show through.

The header - This item is very unique and cool but if your on vista its a bit more difficult to appreciate, effectively it's not so much a mask or headgear as it a direct skintight entity that covers your whole head and face in black, it leaves your neck exposed but if you pair it with the commando jacket it looks like the way you've wanted it to look since the commando gear dropped back when.

Now approaching the problem's previously eluded to but delayed - in order to actually get the high end gear -

The earing needing two .2 completion tokens is just sort of lame, i mean if he'd made it like 5 overide traces or something that's fine, but literally making me re-run the same mission back to back when i'll have to do it again and again if i want the new gear anyways is not only tedious but frustrating, if you go for all the loot by the time you finish you can practically re-collect the missions word for word phase by phase.

For the header and mask your required to produce the 10 shells, and 1 kernel, aswell as 1 mission .3 completion token per piece.

So not only do you have to run all 3 missions twice, but you need to farm two overide traces which a lot of people felt impossible to get one. Aswell as 20 function fragments which isn't impossible but rather tedious on top of the continual mission grinding but for the beret even - you need to farm 10 just to get to the third mission, and then additionally need to hand in another 10 for absolutely no other reason then to draw out the entire ordeal. I do appreciate the whole trading in two halves for a whole and liked what the header is, but it's undeniable the amount of work and coordination it takes to get one. But in the end, if you have the time you can get what you're after.

=============================

=============================

Christmas update -

(i'm only writing about the newest stuff, not the snowballs or snowmen, or party hat stuff, that's all unique and fun in it's own capacity but we've also had it the past few years.)

The snow is always a nice touch and refreshing in terms of reminding me of the winter playground of the constructs i can no longer access. The vendors are a nice touch, cake is always welcome provided i'm eating it or female RSI's are. And we've even got new clothing this year, the word new has a sort of sour esque twinge to it as again technically the only real new clothing in game in terms of the chrismas update are the boots - which a lot of people don't really like the look of. Personally i picked up a red pair for the sheer rediculousness of them. As i don't have a female RSI i didn't bother with the gi's but to be honest i would have gone after a male bathrobe for the comedic value and was sort of saddened when i learned the picture was a joke. That being said the concept of recoloring old gi models doesn't exactly strike me as fresh, but it's just my opinion.

As i said earlier, i don't know what it takes to edit or change or add new clothing to the game, but when only the texture has changed it becomes a lot harder to convince me that it takes a great deal of time. I really like all of the male shirts despite the fact that they too are that sort of "coca-cola" new, where it's still coke but it's ....different. I've wanted a red and black shirt vest combo - and apparently i'm not the only one. The problem with cool looking clothes in game is that pretty soon everyone is wearing them, and that whole individual class, grace and beauty of a vibrant and different world fades a little. Ultimately the craving for new cool shirts isn't a negative, but in truth we just need waaay more.

One problem with the shirts however, is the interior collar color glitch, if you throw on say the black shirt with white tie combo it looks fine as just the shirt, but put a jacket over it and the interior collar of the shirt around your neck takes on the color of the tie and it can sort of hurt the look your going for. Granted it's rather finiky, but it's merely a truth - if you don't care you probably didn't even farm the shirts.

The snow globe shades didn't really interst me, they were unique and different and a few people grabbed them, but a lot of people didn't seem impressed, i can't say i'm going to argue i wasn't intersted enough to go after them, but they looked like the awakened shades painted white with stange arms on them.

That about summarizes the new content on the winter side of things, still a lot of new stuff to come out in terms of clothing, but nothing too different then what we've already seen. I can't say i don't want to see not only more stuff but more different stuff - but i will say anything is better then nothing.

========

In closing, i've got to say i've been rather impressed with this super update as a whole, though i also fear it may have spoiled us since it was technically two updates in one, come 12.2 with only the new criticals and maybe some other super secret rarebit projects which could still be enjoyable, there will still be undoubtedly less to do, thus i fear the super farmers who i have to classify myself as one will burn through it and then wollow in area chat about how bored they are. This is where the events come in - but for the sake of maintaining the attempted unbias in this post i'll refrain from talking about live events, what they could, should and will be.

There's a lot of neat stuff to get out of this update, and the new system despite it's damage to the live events most of the max level's crave is a neat twist to motivate players to do just a bit more then grind ceaselessly, the level of fun and interaction and planning that went into the overide/oligarch construct almost reminded me of the old days and seeing my faction mates get excited about the tactical execution of things was great too.

I think in the future the next crits should focus a little less on farming and maybe a little more on searching and travelling, really get people to make use of the things they've forgotten about like datamine and the constructs around them, and movie spots and places downtown or in westivew. Also show off some of the stuff that a lot of people still don't know about. You'd be amazed how many people don't know where digger is let alone how cool his spot is.

I also think if the missions need to be re-run over and over there should more benefit to actually doing that, put in messages and hidden stuff that the players might not catch the first time, such that playing through them again won't be so painful - or better still avoid making them re-run the same missions over and over. Also i know it's been mentioned and produced before but putting in an ocasional hidden collector or un-annouced collector who gives out different stuff not even for the sake of buffs but maybe unique looks - leave them around to be discovered eventually but i think rarebit shouldn't be afraid to try wacky and different stuff, if you become to clingy to an arch-type stuff get's old and brittle, but if you try to keep things fresh every now and then you might get really lucky.

All in all, i'm rather impressed - i just hope the meetings which i intend to 'behave' at in the near future don't put me off.

~Darminian

I picked it up but it doesn't work well with my RSI as such im looking to trade it for something of value, as such not info, let me know if you might have something i'm interested in - i'm willing to take overide fragments.

~Darminian

                                                                                         -0700-
                                                                                      -Old zion-
                                                                                -breifing room A7-

Phrack and the other officers stood to the side of the room looking over reports and information coming in from operatives all across the system, reports of sightings and conflicts, the winter chaos making things no easier this time around. While the majority of were flipping through the numerous reports, Phrack was looking over the troops being debriefed in the room before him.

Captains of the Pluribus Neo group and some other underground Zionist captains were also present, listening to the man on the elevated platform explain the situation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as previously theorized the BIP is tied to Trinity. More evidence has surfaced, indicating that the BIP program is, in fact, or is related, to the former Zion operative. No doubt you've all heard of her and the stories - the IRS database is still one of the most noteworthy jobs pulled off to date. What some of you might not have known she was the only other person to have ventured to Machine City with Neo - they were very close, enough such that the possibility of her pressence is of great interest to us. Many rumors existed concerning her fate, several consisted of reports that she was in fact deceased. The mystery concerning her and this program is as confusing as it is intriguing."

"Moving forward - the recent confrontation between Ghost and presumably Agent pace in the presence of the BIP has got the city up in arms. A security feed from the building where everything went down
has been leaked to the general awakened populace, and like before it still seems to be a race to find and communicate with the BIP."

Darminian paced back and fourth as he spoke looking over the captains, it had been a while since they'd all gathered so formally and gotten straight to business. Aracher nodded to Odj who was in the
process of tweaking a nearby terminal, which resulted in a large monitor coming to life and displaying the security feed. His attention turned away from Odj and towards Darminian.

"We've still got no perfected means of tracking the BIP, that doesn't leave us with many options." Aracher spoke.

"Ghost didn't seem to have any problems tracking her down." External piped in over top of a report he was reading.

"If the BIP is in fact Trinity then it would make sense Ghost has an edge in terms of knowing her moves." Grey spoke this time as chatter began to run through the group of captains, rumors of failed romance, and drama ect. - all of this amplified by the fact that on the screen Pace had a weapon aimed at Ghost as he stood between her and the BIP.

"Listen up!" Darminian broke through the chatter and silenced the room.

"Ghost is our best bet in terms of tracking down the BIP, however his closeness to Trinity also makes him a target on several front's - as such our two priorities are the location and support of both parties. If it is in fact Trinity then we need to speak to her as soon as we can - she's the only one right now who might be able to tell us anything at all about Neo, also her pressence in the system has a means of renewing the concept that perhaps the One is in fact still alive as many of us believe. I'm not going to delve into the semantics of faith but I will say today is not a day to lounge around
we've got some work ahead of us, kids. Also, two complications have entered into the mix."

Darminian motioned to the monitor and on screen to white flashes erupted yielding the frames of two new Oligarchs.

"We don't know anything about them yet, but it's safe to assume they're here for the BIP and they're going to cause some problems, hopefully their presence here hinders the machines enough to give us the edge in finding and supporting Ghost and the BIP."

"Ah crap, not more of them." One captain chimed in.

"Seriously, how many of these bastards are there?" As did another captain.

"Apparently there aren't as many as initially thought but an exact number is uncomfirmed, there are plenty of theories, but the only fact is they are dangerous and they have an 'agreement' with the machines. They all also seem to want the BIP, not that that's news."

"So are we calling it the BIP or Trinity now?" Windfaller piped up.

"Call her whatever you like so long as were all on the same page." Darminian replied.

"As for dealing with the new Oligarch's, like before they are to be handled with extreme caution, they've proven themselves to be devious and manipulative as well as dangerous, learn what you can as fast as you can. The more we know, the better our chances." Darminian spoke before looking to the monitor.

The final frames of the security feed show the lupine operative fleeing the scene. Phrack spoke this time, having more detailed experience with Ookami then most were aware of.

"For anyone here who doesn't know, that's the Merovingian's lapdog Ookami - which mean's the Merv's are going to be on the same page as everyone else, if not moreso - they're going to be after the same parties and no doubt trying to manipulate the two new complications we've got on our hands. Don't forget that if this thing is Trinity, the Merovingian may feel he still owes her for the stunt she pulled in Club Hel, when last they met. Zion operatives are going to be in full-force support of Ghost and any of them with faith in regards to the One are going to be especially interested in the latest happenings. As per usual, support them where possible and necessary but don't forget our focal points. As for the machines - we're going to be warring with them all the time, anyway, so this is just another excuse - like Darm said - they'll probably have their hands full trying to keep the visitors from tearing the city apart while hunting, so now is the best time for us to operate." He paused a moment staring across the group of them assembled, a refreshed aura within the room in terms of motivation in interest, the silent fear behind the officers in terms of how long it might last.

"I want you and your crews to spread out across the Matrix and do whatever you can to learn as much as you can about what's happening. I want you to locate Ghost and the BIP, chances are if you find one, you'll find the other. I want special attention paid to the International district - there's been an influx of activity down there recently and we need to know why. You're all competent operatives so let's get out there and get this taken care of. The sooner, the better." With that, Phrack turned and headed back inside the office beyond the briefing room, after several minutes the room was empty save for the officers discussing the latest developments.

====

"What do you guys think?" Phrack asked, looking over the other Rank One's, in terms of all that had unfolded, as per usual the surface was simple - the most recent business with the BIP and everything else happening, but as always the past lurked beneath the surface, every step and movement, every intricate detail that followed the life line and actions of the group. He was stoic and quiet in contemplation while looking over his officers.

"You already know what i think." Darminian replied.

"You don't think it's her then?"

"I'm not saying it's not possible, but we have to accept the fact that as it stands there's no way of knowing for sure, everyone who is familiar with the One is familiar with the path and steps of him and those closest to him. I'd like to believe it is her for what it means, what it could mean, but I have to voice that it's still not confirmed yet."

"I'll grant you it's not one hundred percent, but if anyone would know, Ghost of all people would." Phrack replied to his doubting Thomas. Externalerror and Aracher were in quiet discussion concerning the
militaristic standpoint of the group and what it meant to support and protect the two parties. There was an electricity to the looming combat ahead, the two were hardened warriors with little to no fear of
death or pain, a disturbing result of a world turned so cold, yet their strength was a pillar.

"Whatever happens, we'll be able to handle it, blood or bullets. If this really is Trinity, we'll protect her." Ex spoke aloud.

"Agreed - we owe it to Neo to do so anyways, besides I'm always happy to spill Merv and Machine blood." Ex and aracher seemed to nod and chuckle - always ready for battle.

"Archangel?"

"I believe it's her Phrack, and this might just be the break we've been waiting for. If it is, she can lead us to Neo - if anyone could find Neo or save him it's her. She has before, she can do it again." Phrack nodded silently contemplating the priest's words.

"If she can lead us to Neo, then I don't doubt that every one of us will do whatever is in our power to protect her and do what we can." Archangel spoke again.

"I agree." Phrack replied.

The group grew silent in contemplation over all the "if's" and possibilities unfolding around them, soon after even they left the room, Phrack and Darminian stayed discussing the courses of action to take from there on.

===

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300026963

Are caused by these:

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300026696

That is all.

~Darminian

For year's we've been given database related excuses as to why content couldn't be implemented or changed or added - reasons why changes that were seemingly simple weren't so easily accomplished, but after weeks of searching i've discovered the truth, the secret your not supposed to know about.

Why are there so many problems with the mainframe in mxo?

It's simple - mainframe goblins!

So remember that next time something can't happen in game, it's the goblins fault!

~Darminian

Hello fellow coders, this idea came to me the other day, and although i expect never to see it, i figured i'd put it out there if for nothing else to talk about how much nicer things would be if we had it, sigh longingly and then jack out and go play another MMO or do something constructive - in any case here we go:

If you've gotten to that point like i have where you decomp anything and everything you find for the sake of having it in your library, you might have noticed how difficult it's become to locate individual pieces of clothings, both from a buff standpoint and or a fashion stand point. How much easier would it be if there were filtering means built into the code analyser tool that allowed you to search through your library with key words or points, running a search would then list off all the items that met your desired key word and display only those pieces of clothing. It could be as advanced as searching for:

"armored" "level 26+" "male"

to find male armored clothing level 26 and up.

or as simple as:

"black"

In order to find everything and anything of that color regardless of level.

The applications of these filters work both from the RP side of charachter customization and clothing layout, the pvp realm of trying to find the best buffs for stuff. If implemented it would be undoubtedly shotty, but if it had the ability to run a search just for certain segements of item strings or pieces of items strings to match with the search it would be interesting.

Just a thought.

=== 

Why not right, not like too many other ideas here get implemented, so have at it.

Practical or essential? Nope.

Necessary? Nothing in a video game is necessary.

Interesting? I think so.

~Darminian

At first it only seemed to happen because i was playing in windowed mode, but now it's happening constantly, each and every screenshot i take comes out almost completely black, or at least the majority of it is black and maybe some of it is visible along the border of it, any ideas?

EDIT

The fix is to disable anti-aliasing, this thread can be deleted or w/e now thank you Tsusai and co.

~Darminian

I'm looking to move some funds from recursion to syntax, if you'd like to do the inverse please PM me.

~Darminian

When everything has been peeled back, when all the additions are torn away and all that is inconsequential - all that could never matter is ripped from the bottom up. You are left with the truth, the undeniable unequivocal truth. What you really are beneath it all, it's a sight many could never truly find, let alone be able to look upon freely. To do so could mean the very end of everything they'd ever convinced themselves to be truth, to be knowledge.

He sat atop the Dawei sculpture in quiet contemplation - there were no sunglasses hugging his head, no brawlers gloves, no weapons strapped to the interior of a coat he'd not brought with him. Even his feet were bear, he was but himself and the light Gi attached to his frame. The grey clouds above lightly pelted the earth below as rain drops swelled and fell, each randomized piece of logic within their specified place telling them where to fall, where to land and what puddles to make. His eyes were closed as he sat, the droplets colliding with him, his spiked hair falling flat to the light impact of each drop.

=

Enlightenment.

Enlightenment is a process in which one grows more aware of the falsifications in the world around them, where one does not become stronger or more powerful, but more aware. To be aware of that which isn't, and which cannot - in order to see past it. Enlightenment cannot be obtained externally, it is within one's self, that the journey must be made.

One must not seek the falseness of the world around them, but rather the falseness of themselves. To peel away the world around you, is to leave you with nothing but your own created falsifications, but to remove yourself of that which is untrue within - is to force the world around you to yield unto you it's truths.

It is not as simple as destiny or pre-ordained fate, nor as simple as cause and effect - within this place we define our realities and subsequent unrealities, it is within this world that our continual steps forward slowly become steps backward.

If each and everyone one of us is incapable of fault, then the mistakes made are not learned from, they are doomed to be repeated.

=

The rain intensified slowly, more and more of the drops coming now, more hungrily seeking those dry spots and removing them. It collided with the pools of water below and was almost loud enough to hide quick and light foot steps moving towards the monument.

=

Purpose.

Purpose is the guiding hand of a so-called fate, but fate doesn't govern how purpose exists, or how we find it how we lose it. Without purpose, one loses their sense of things, their sense of self within a place such as this. This is a world built upon purpose, upon the point of existence - the why, reasons behind everything.

A place for every book, and every book in it's place. I've fallen off of the shelf.

Choice, control, fate or freewill - those who seek are lead to believe that each and every choice is already made - it is not for us to make the choice, but to understand it, to understand the why of it. I've found more questions then choices, more falsifications and nonsense then guidance, more circles then paths, more lies then truths. In the midst of this chaos it is the world I've chosen to blame for such, and in doing so forgone the very essence of what enlightenment is.

To be surrounded by lies and to be without purpose is not the fault of anyone, but the one who allowed it to happen in the first place. To have abandoned enlightenment for comfort, for ease - to have forfeited the very path so many swear to walk.

I am without purpose in this place.

I have stopped searching for enlightenment.

And I have lost the means to find these things.

=

"Then what is it you will do?"

The wingless angel's voice broke the noise of the rains assault on the water below, his tone as calm and cool as the droplets that slowly crept down his face.

"If I knew I doubt I'd be sitting here." He replied calmly, his eyes still closed, his mind batting thoughts and philosophies around in his head.

"Perhaps you would."

"Purpose is an interesting thing to speak of with you, especially since the Halborn incident."

"I still protect that which matters most Darminian."

"Is she truly gone Seraph?" He asked his tone not nearly as cold as it had grown over the years, his vividly unusual blue eyes now opening to stare into the round dark shades of the ancient seraphim.

"I cannot say."

His eyes closed again as his head lowered slightly, a bizarre mood had descended with the rain, and he was more unsure now then he'd been when he'd been drawn to this place of contemplation. As his mind mulled over the philosophical fragments he'd buried deep within his own consciousness so long ago, once again the seraphim's voice broke it.

"You no longer know yourself like you once did, I know longer know you like I once did."

His head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing at the man in the open white coat, his thoughts racing at his comment.

"I must apologize Darminian."

"For wha-" His sentence had only half escaped his mouth when the Seraphim's legs had shot out from beneath him where'd they been crossed and sent Darminian flying off the sculpture. He tumbled back off the edge and plummeted to the ground below, he landed within the large pool of water with a large splash and rose to his feet wiping the water from his eyes in time to see the seraphim leap down into the same pool of water and barely disturb it's surface.

For a long while the two merely stood within the pool of water, their eyes upon one another, the trees surrounding them, the wind picked up as the rain continued to poor. With the slightest of nods they charged at one another, volleys of strikes and kicks were sent back and fourth as they leapt to and fro, ducking and dodging sidestepping and weaving. For a time the sounds of their clothing being whipped around in the wind was indiscernible from the sounds of their blows moving through the air and the tactile parry's and combinations.

After a series of strikes had missed the seraphim, Darminian adapted the combo with an unorthodox kick - but the seraphim was too fast and easily caught him by the ankle and flipped him forward using his own momentum. Once again he found himself on his back beneath the water, he got to his feet and stared down his opponent.

"You are too distracted."

The two circled one another the rains descent growing faster and harder. Again the subtle nod played intro to a war of blows - the two of them constantly switching styles and tact in order to try to throw off the other. The seraphim's strikes to quick too flawless to counter all of them- his movements as fluid as the water surrounding their feet.

"You cannot find your path in this chaos."

Darminian caught a heavy blow to the chest and growled as he lunged forward and threw a heavy right hook his opponents way, the momentum carried him in a half circle as the seraphim ducked the blow and countered with a sift kick into his back once again sending him into the cold water beneath them. The water soaked him through and through, washing across his face as he pushed himself off of the ground, his head breaking the surface he spit out the water in his mouth and wiped it getting to his feet.

"There is no path to find, were all just following."

"Then you must break away."

"There's nothing to break away to - it's all the same!" Darminian snapped back charging the seraphim, his blows more hostile now, more vicious, they began to strike more rapidly, his speed increasing - the seraphim's visage still calm and collected but even he began to move more rapidly, occasionally one of them getting air born to avoid a blow or try and land one. Another failed attempt at an obscure punch was followed by a blow from seraph which sent him sliding backwards but still on his feet.

"Then find something that is not the same."

"I can't!" Darminian roared once again rushing his opponent, unleashing a flurry of kicks followed by a roundhouse which forced the seraphim to back peddle a few feet. He raised his guard again and Darminian did the same, the two of them switching stances.

"Why not?" The seraphim questioned - running forward into a kick that collided with Darminian's forearm - as he touched down again a fierce exchange of blows took place -this time with less speed and more power. The force from their blows and blocks sending cuts across the top of the water and through the rain that fell through the air. "Because -" Darminian belted out as he kicked off of the seraphim's guard and leapt backwards onto the ground behind him.

"THERE IS NOTHING TO FIND! His shout filled the park and the sky seemed to explode within the same moment the lightning breaking through the black cover. His frame ripped across the water towards the seraphim - but in the same instant it was off the ground, his feet running along the side of the sculpture and in the final feet of it he leapt into the air and began a deadly descent towards his opponent.

His fist collided with the ground beneath him as a tremendous splash of water shot out from around him. The park was dark now, leaving enough faded light to illuminate the area he was in, the lighting that pierced the cloud cover yielded the remainder of the area, he was alone, kneeling in the muck beneath the surface of the pool. His chest rising and falling rapidly as he sought air to fill his lungs as he spoke quietly.

"Th....there's nothing here......nothi...nothing left.....nothing that matters."

He rose to his feet in the midst of the down poor, the storm overhead, and simply stared out across the park, the water having completely soaked through his gi, and flattened his hair.

So as much as it annoys me to post one of these without being a dark realist about the probablity of improvement let alone any bitter sarcasm -

In the mission logs where the important dialogues are stored, it would be greatly helpful if the closest hardline to the objective the operator informs you of could be copied and pasted into the log, everytime i miss it i have to check my map and guess and blah blah blah - considering how already painfully arduous and bloody repetitive the missions are, it would be a lot nicer to not have to break from the mundane zombie like trance im in while mishing to have to check.

~Darminian

The man doesn't believe in phone booths or cars, you can figure it out, the hell if i have any idea what his game is, but just chatting with him for 5 can flip you out.

Drebo is what he goes by down there.

A small wearhouse just on the border of richland in the crumbling dristricts of westview, a man paces back and fourth beneath something - adorned in a strange outfit with a helmet with a painted visor.  

Commitment.

You see that's what it's really all about, people these days don't want to commit to anything, they don't want to be evil, or do things that people don't agree with. No one can really commit to a cause and follow it without straying from the path or wandering off the road that lies before them. People are so bloody pro-peace sometimes they forget that too much peace means your a doormat for the guy who is anti-everything.

The only thing worse are the warmongers who tell you that peace is what they are fighting for, cause then you get two armies that don't just believe they know what's right, but are willing to kill and die and do terrible things for what they've been lead to believe.

People can't commit to themselves cause they are too busy giving in to other people, people, beings entities, AI's. Were all on the same bloody boat that's being ripped apart by the tide and sinking fast. And then there's complacency, my god - were all quick to act but the problem is were all waiting for the time to act - or acting like those little things we do on the side really matter. Sure they matter to us - but do they really matter?

Does any of it really matter?

I don't, you don't, this doesn't - no one is going to know what this is.

The bloodied body suspended upside down from the cieling of the small wear house shifted slightly. It stirred and moaned, as it tried to see past the crimson slipping over it's face at who it was speaking to.  

"Why....why are you doing this......."

The man in the painted swat mask continued to waltz around the hanging focal point, as he tapped the baseball bat in his hand against the palm of his other hand.

The why, an interesting point to tangeant on, I could go into cause and effect, and what you've done to wind up here, why i'm doing this to you, but let's say there is no why. Say this is completely random - in a system of control how can anything be random, a bullet that riccochets, a coin toss, the way the wind blows, if it's all controlled then perhaps something else has controlled your pressence here.

Perhaps this is where you were destined to wind up, that's the problem with destiny, if it's set in stone people are destined to fail, if it's changeable then it's not really destiny is it? Perhaps you can change your current posistion, perhaps not.

It's now that he reaches out with the blunt instrument to poke the man hanging upside down and dripping onto the floor. 

You know the saddest thing about people these days, is that they only react, they don't anticipate. Oh well, batter up.

"What - no - please please no don't!"

Some screams go unheard for a few minutes within the decaying district, and then only the sound of something splashing against the floor and sound of footsteps moving away.

Me.

Me, me, me, me, me.

~Darminian

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300012365 

History as it were.

====

The dreams had returned, it had been about a week since he'd once again found himself drowning, choking on the black tar-like substance that surrounded his entire body. He had found himself in alley-ways and dark corners of the old city chasing whispers and voices that remained body-less. Blurred images and scattered fragments of eventsm dreams and memories seemed like the scattered ashes of a body strewn across his mind. More times then they could count his cries would wake her and even the others on the ship as he tried to fight the goo. They'd even found him wandering the ship in a comatose like state, whispering inaudible things and speaking nonsense.

It was this evening that things changed, he sat within the tea house he always went, and sipped lightly at the green tea. The restaurant was empty and the weather outside was drizzly and grey. He rubbed his eyes and sighed aloud as he leaned back into the chair, his coat draped across the back of it. His mind felt cleaved in two, he couldn't place what had been happening to him, these strange thoughts that seemed to stockpile in his head, but scatter when he tried to collect them. He breathed in deeply to the aroma of the tea in front of him and opened his eyes, he surveyed the room around him and his eyes caught a strange crack in the wall.

He stared at it for a while before he noticed it seemed to almost pulse, considering how often he came to this place, he was surprised by it's pressence, getting to his feet he moved towards the wall and stared into it. It looked familiar, this strange dark pulsing hole in the wall, and he raised a hand to it. Peeling away at it slowly, the wall paper ripped a little and some of the plaster from the wall fell to the ground - and then more - the crack began to grow and the wall started to crumble,  the cracks extended outwards from their origin, like twisting roots that crawled across all the walls and the cieling, he could only watch transfixed on the growing lines that began to widen. The veins in the cieling seemed to swell and within a moment burst - spots across the room exploded as the goo poured out of ceiling and the walls - immediately the floor was covered and tried to move towards the door - something gripped his leg.

He stared down to the shallow goo that was slowly rising, it was ankle deep and covering the floor of the room, but to his own horror an arm covered in the black substance emerged and gripped his leg, he shook violently and began to kick at it as he looked around the room and took in some more detail - the roof was completely black, and was oozing down the walls, every surface that had changed to the syrupy tar now writhed and moved on its own as shaking and shivering bodies and limbs moved within the confines of the liquid. More and more arms emerged and sought to hold him down, each and every one of them slowing his movement, his panicked and desperately searched the room, his eyes fell upon the window and he did his best to move towards it. Now knee-deep in the tar his fingers slipped over the cracks and edges of the window trying desperately to budge it or open it, he yelled at it and banged on the window uselessly as the tar ozzed down over the wall covering it, he slammed his fists into the muck over and over and froze as he sensed something behind him.

Turning towards the center of the room, he froze - a torso seemed to sit more elevated then the rest, it's body hunched forward on it's knees, slowly the back arched and a head emerged from the viscous liquid surrounding him and filling the room. He watched as the goo seemed to peel from it's face and the black details of it bearly came into sight. Vague outlines of lips and a nose, no hair was present but the liquid hadn't left the top of it's head. The goo dripped off it's face and outlined a brow- underneath it, the dark liquid stained skin spread and yielded two milky white eyes without pupils, it's mouth opened to an unhuman size and it screeched loudly, so loudly he covered his ears with his hands and grit his teeth. More arms and bodies emerged from the room as the figures reached out and grabbed him, the thick tar staining his white shirt as a wall of bodies seemed to grow out of the muck now up to his waist, more and more of the blank faced screeching things reached out to him and soon he felt him self forced under. Kicking and screaming against a dead mass of thick liquid and bodies pressed against him, on top of him, weighing him down beneath the surface. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but eventually he screamed and when his mouth opened the oil flooded in, filling his lungs.

He screamed out loud, his hands clasped to the side of his head, and in the same moments he'd found himself buried he found himself on his knees in the dirt, a dark wasteland around him, the ruins of a city that once was, the broken and decayed world around him causing sharp pains to run through his mind - he'd been jacked in, he'd been in the matrix. His breathing was heavy and he collapsed into the dirt, his fingers clawing at the ground beneath him, he ripped up part of his sleave as he gasped with his head against the ground and his eyes fixated on the plugs in his arm. He shivered on the ground as he rolled onto his back, coughing and spluttering, his body trying to force the goo from his lungs that wasn't there. His head seemed to pound as he was sure it filled with a humming that almost caused his eyes to go back into his head, he forced his head upwards and grunted as he looked above him to see a hovercraft descending slowly. Every moment he lay there was agony and all he could do was watch as the ship landed and the ramp came down, the light from inside the craft seemed to singe his retinas as he closed his eyes and tried desperately to make them focus. Two people descended the ramp of the hovercraft, he could only make out their outlines as he tried to move.

He felt himself being grabbed and dragged up the ramp and felt his fingers bouncing along the metal ramp as he tried desperately to stop his movement, to regain control, the people dragging him passed words he could bearly undestand as he passed out.

"Think he's still going to be any use to us?"

"We'll see what Marble thinks."

....

Prop items:

books, files, doccuments - It's been suggested countless times but it would be a lot better if we could modify the prop items so that they could actually come to mean something or have some kind of data to them, have it readable only in the details and one doesn't even have to make them luggable, the problems that could ensue would be having them flood the game en-masse but if they aren't luggable problem solved, moreover it could be neat to have some random books filled in by the dev's with maybe some hints, tips pointers ect. - also would be a cool means of having literal in game tutorials or pseudo treasure hunts whatever strange ideas come to mind for the sake of entertainment or RP, it would just be nicer because the data could be more then just 'playing house' per say. Just allow the players to edit the text via 'details'. Can't be any harder then editing the text of your own background.

Cell phones - It would be very cool if you could use the cell phones to place anonymous calls, not easily done, but if we can build player bots to serve as network sources of intel and data updates, it would be fairly easy to have an anonymous call relay that would simply re-route calls to their desired location but keep them secret, and for the sake of harassment - the dev's could easily check to see who said what as to avoid drama of harassment anonymously. Could also be a cool thing for the LEC's to do, because if rarebit were to do it, you'd never know if it was part of an event or just some player based RP. And we all know that what we don't know is always more interesting then what were sure of. Payphones could work the same way i suppose.

tape recorders - could generate an in game log that would be indesputeable, this isn't something i necessarily want to see, but it would be neat all the same, we already have an in-game log option, but it would be cool to generate an in-game file that recorded area chat and could be handed around.

A means to generate copies of these items would also be impressive. 

Masks/Disguises - in an untraditional sense, allow the user to change both their name and appearance to say that of a random charachter (blue pill, exile, agent ect. ect) they wouldn't be used to affect combat, level could stay the same it would just be a means to allow players to RP different roles for events, lord knows it would make things a lot easier and give us a chance to fight 50's without having to roll a new char who has to be killed off for an event. If necessary give it some kind of icon to notify people that it was a player as to stop LEC impersonation. Heck even if the names didn't change it would still be workable - lord knows rarebit can give players disguises till they log out or reconstruct, why not give the ability to the players for the sake of RP.

General:

a hacking system - as things don't tend to really change up around here, it becomes clear events that require computers or terminals or mainframes hacked are going to happen again from time to time, as such it would be nice if some kind of system were to be generated to represent the actualy hacking. Whether as a series of questions or riddles or math problems or even (though it won't ever happen) some kind of visual mini-game esque ordeal, i just think its a bit redudant and stupid to keep doing them when really all it is, is someone loading coder and standing by a terminal cause it looks like he's typing.

katanas - albeit requireing a huge change to the system, it would be nice if perhaps they were consumeable like the exile codes (silver bullet, holy water, stake) - just as a means for extra stylish dmg or better still if there was a way to have it as a finishing move. I thought having a perp katana would make me happy but now my desire to cut people is on overload.

fedoras - a certain facial type - (the same as mandarin the contact) causes a texture glitch in the fedora where a piece of the head is exposed, i'd like this fixed, i can't wear fedoras because of it, call me OCD but i play on high detail to avoid that BS.

change in the shape and style in the world around us - i get its supposed to be 1999 for a year but things are sort of getting old, same buildings, same people, same useless npc's that do nothing like the guy in tabor and the gal in the abandoned subway, the bluepills all look like crack heads and the vehicles all just keep doing what they are doing, westview is left to rot but never actually gets worse or better and things just start to feel stale.

different types of clothing that didn't require group work or hours of farming to get.

Some more emotes for other situations, i'd still love to see a /robot, maybe it's not matrixy but the hell if it isn't funny. I wouldn't mind a /takebooster or what not, some new moods would be nice too, also if they could change some of the struts behind certain moods things would be better, it's really hard to find a mood where you look good standing still and don't look like a *CENSORED* walking.

Never going to happen, but amusing all the same:

vehicles- not even driveable - but say for example - retexturing the benches - wrap a car around them and let people sit in them, or even feature them on a track to move around, i've always appreciated the concept of a small meeting in the back of a limo. It would also be nice to even be able to jump on vehicles and sit on them or as stupid as it may sound imagine a chase and shooting match on the roof of cars while running - difficulty is cars are different for every individual as for bluepills.

constructs - the means to create our own constructs, to prevent a flood of them leave them to people with the insane amounts of money, purchase buidlings, textures, ect. ect., and posistion them as we see fit in a pre-rendered amount of blank space, the problem really just becomes implementation aswell as the overall set up of the 'world' - though it would give us a means to fill up the constructs hardline section.

a means to edit clothing colors, textures and buffs like was promised ages ago.

Random collectors-  npc's put in for a limited amount of time, or even just put in silently and offer the players unique items for a variety of different objects and items forcing them to go across mega city and prove they've got a knowledge of the world around them for special gifts and rewards. It would encourage exploration aswell as give players something to do. High end gear asking for box stuff and high level npc creston drops, or low trade stuff like the chopper key souvenir that to my knowledge doesn't do anything. Make them have a quanity of trades, so that only a set amount of stuff can eb given out - either way just a really neat way of distributing unique items and giving people a chance - while still keeping it rare. It's the mystery of hunting as opposed to how long will it take to farm.

The return of global events, an events team, or implementation of more competent LESIG with more power.

===========

That's about all i've got that hasn't been beaten to death or flogged post mortem, save for the katana bit - if you agree or dissagree by all means say so, and if you have some keep 'em comming, eventually they'll pick one at random and do it half-assedly.

~Darminian

WTS:

1 SSR Swat helmet - place bids now.

2 - Raeder's earpieces - place bids now.

~Darminian

The heavy black coat clung like a cape to the chair he sat in, the aroma of tea filled the air as he sat alone in the tea house in Sai Kung. The code drenched shades lay on the table next to his cup as he leaned back in his chair staring up at the ceiling. Beyond the roof of the building the sky, was a dull grey as the clouds seemed to merge above like a pale canopy. Drops of rain made the clouds swell before they escaped on mass assualting the world below.

As he allowed himself to take in the gentle aroma he stopped, a subtle yet unforgettable aroma had entered the air, his mind tried to place it but didn't need to as the sliding rice paper doors opened. The race to process was a tie between the brightly colored dress and the curvacious hips of the pale skinned vixen. The succubai's crimson hair and tight clothes were almost distracting enough to overlook the weapony she carried. However it was not her scent that he'd picked up, but rather that of the one she was escorting. Clad in black, with a funeral veil, the woman gracefully waltzed across the threshold and towards his table. Another deadly piece of eye candy entered the room from the door behind him - again a tie between weapons and 'ballistics' in the race for awareness. 

The woman in the veil lighly pulled the chair out across from him and gently sat down, though difficult to see, her eyes were upon him - staring into his own. Like the guards she had with her, there was a duality to everything about her- her eyes especially. Soft and chocolate brown, how easy it was to confuse that warm color, to allow it to convey that comforting, alluring softness - that well devised perfect illusion to hide how truly sharp and piercing they could be. An irony in light of his own eyes exposed completely, the abnormal blue of them no longer captured behind the shades he always wore. The moment he truly felt the sharpness from her eyes meeting him he reached for those shades, his fingers were inches from them when she broke the silence.

"Don't." Her tone managed to convey the order as more of a request, more of plea a need a desire, when in truth it was all part of a game, that's all she had now perhaps, compared to what she once did, these games that keep her from allowing the wind to sweep her away - his mind raced with every thought and every concept as his hand recoiled slowly. His composure remained steady, body language unphased but his face yielded the annoyance- his eyes yielded the annoyance. Walls can breed complacency, when one is knocked down, a person may not be able to handle what lay behind it. So much off a single word - an eternity in this thought process, this game of chess masked in a simple tea party.

"This one going to cause any trouble mistress?" The succubai standing behind him had made the inquiry, a closer inspection of the trench hugging his chair had opened her eyes to just how many weapons were strapped to its interior.

The veiled head cocked slightly, her eyes still meeting his, as she smiled softly, the tiniest shape gripping those lips, perfect and soft lips that had met so many so maliciously. A smile from so many others would mean nothing more than such, but from her - it was enough to make him want to pistol whip her, to see that mouth without a smile, break through the mask.

"Are you going to be any trouble Darminian?" The softness of her french accent clinging to her words like wings, letting them float so softly making them light and relaxing, easing down his guard, trying to soften him. He reached down gently and picked up the cup, lifting it to his lips he paused a moment- without any subtlety he looked her over head to toe. The dark veil that covered her face beneath the dark hat was a new twist - his eyes moved lower noting the same cut of her dress the wide straps on her shoulders that lead the eye down to her chest, it was a darker black to go with the Veil and just as dangerous. The side of his mouth barely moved enough to display a subtle smirk above his raised cup as he spoke.

"You never know."

Behind the veil her grin widened as she waved her hand, her escorts nodded and stepped out of the room closing the doors behind them. It was appreciable to have regard for formality despite the fact that the rice paper provided no privacy. He filled another cup in front of his guest and continued to subtly analyze her every action, her every movement, her every breath.

"Are you surprised to see me here?" Again the softness in her words masked the venom flowing through them, the infectious taunts and provocations that screamed but weren't phrased.

"I knew someone from that circle would wind up here sooner or later, though i expected it to be a lot more violent."

"My husband does not know i'm here, i merely wished to speak to you myself."

"About what?" He replied his words taking a sharper edge, though the illusion he crafted was of stone, the coldness and roughness, the stubborn and unmoveable - she could get under his skin - she knew it as did he. So often did he manage to dissociate himself from emotion and yet encompassed within her was the means to analyze and absorb it - to extract and extort, to belittle to control. A dangerous truth he'd come to realize was that unlike so many others in this place, she was one of the few who threatened him, who could unbalance him - and so unlike his usual nature he had no desire to play with the flame, only to stomp it out. Again his thoughts drowned him as an eternity of contemplation passed before she spoke again.

"You..." Her reply was so simple, yet an encompassment of his distaste, beneath the table his fists clenched, so strange this effect she brought with her, how with so many others self control was always easy - but with this one - how the beasts roared within his mind but still he maintained - saved face - kept the mask in place.

"You've been driven to chase after this man, to follow him, to risk your life and so many others to 'save' him? - Yet he is not in a posistion to be saved, not in need of rescue. But still you hunt, still you are driven to chase - what motivates you to do that?" The longest she'd spoken thus far, but it landed with a resounding impact. Clear cut her desire to analyze, to break down the walls and see who was behind the masks. It was clear to him now that this wouldn't be a game of shot for shot, but rather of cat and mouse.

"Boredom." Sarcasm is always a last bastion of hope to erect the walls of stone that keep him, to push back the eyes that pry and the words clasped by wings that attempt to get past him.

"Of the rumors i've heard of you - it is interesting you take on such a strange sentiment."

"Dare i pry?"

"Only amongst the women - i've heard you're a bit of .... un loup?"

The mask slipped to reveal that grin, that sadistic smile that could hug his lips when unmentionable thoughts came to mind. A moment passed before he realized that she noted the grin curiously, it faded as soon as he spotted it.

"Gossip is a dangerous thing." He replied, taking another sip of tea before letting the cup give way to the same subtle smirk he'd been wearing before.

"I see..." She trailed off on purpose, her words relayed a sense of confusion but in his mind it was a coin toss between her taking the hint, or seeing the animal within. 

"And of this man you are chasing, you care for him a great deal i think..."

"He's like a brother to me."

"And what about the brother you once had?"

His smirk vanished as his teeth clenched, his brow tightened and he took in air through his nose to calm himself, allowing the aroma of the tea to calm him - but her perfume was like fire in his nostrils- his self-control waning as a fist began to shake beneath the table. He let the air slip from his lips as his teeth released, his hand stopped shaking and opened as he composed himself. The vein she had struck had almost proven to be fatal.

"You're playing a very dangerous game right now, be careful."

"Every game here is dangerous, though few play as well as i, you're quite a player yourself."

That smile sickened him as he shifted in his seat.

"Not by blood." She addressed a thought he'd not spoken of and it sent a chill down his spine.

"What?"

"Code." This time it was her that looked up and down, taking in the scene that was his atire, his posture - his hair, everything and yet her gaze looked so much deeper, into the very strands that represented him within this place.

"That is what formed your past brotherhood, and it is what forms his bond now."

"His bond? - You mean the deal he cut?" She didn't say a word but simply extended her hand across the table, palm up, as the delicate fingers spread. The two waited, both aware of what the other wanted, but both aware of what would happen.

"Don't be afraid."

"I like my secrets the way they are."

"Then i won't share with you mine."

She motioned to get up from the table when he reached across the table and let the tips of his fingers contact her hand, she sat back down and waited as his palm reached her own. Her skin was soft, not as warm as he'd expected, her fingers turned his hand and slowly drifted across his palm.

"You'd enjoy my flesh wouldn't you?" She asked with that same smile, those same looks and thoughts that worked one way but did so much more, dug so much deeper.

"You'd have to ask- mon loup." He replied as he stared down watching her hand atop his. The instant hers crossed his own his head and eyes pounded in agony, everything whirred by as memories ripped through his mind, timelines and events that had occured from his life within zion to life he'd lead before- the different walk of life with the man he considered a brother - flashes of anguish and hatred and pain and sorrow - flooded to the surface as his head began to throb, it wasn't the events that he felt but rather the emotions of those events - siphoned from him - a japanese styled dojo - anguish beyond words and rage a palpable rage that lead to burning crimson - a loathing a hatred - a flash and the table between them seemed to splinter as she stumbled back - he leapt across the ruined table and forced her to the wall a hand at her throat.

The smile had vanished, a look of surprise caught between delight and fear left her face almost blank - the two guards burst into the room and pointed their guns at him. He breathed heavily, his whole body aching, his head feeling as though it'd been ripped in two.

"*CENSORED* you." He forced out as his chest rose and fell rappidly. She was speechless, the guards yelled but didn't fire- not within the proximity of their mistress. Gently she reached up and tugged lightly at the hand around her throat - he let her remove it but not easily. He walked back towards the table and picked up his coat shaking it free of the dust from the table. He pushed his way past the guards and out the rice paper doors. She seemed frozen in place as her gaze was blank, she mouthed words she couldn't speak and moved to the table.

On the street he tightened the collar of his coat as the rain beat down, he began to walk slowly down the street when her voice reached him - she'd called his name - aloud of all things. He turned and she walked towards him slowly - shaken to both of their surprises - she extended a hand towards him, in which the code drenched shades sat.

In an attempt to convert to station access i was advised to cancel my account to remmedy a technical problem, i was granted time on it until the date it was suggested that i renew my account for station access over the 3 month recurring plan i have for MXO. Well my account expires tommorow and the truth of the matter is i don't really know if im going to re-sub.

I guess this could be a good-bye thread, but im sort of just putting it out there, i've come to realize that this place has changed a great deal from when it first started, not just management and story and depth, but also the community. Hell, even i've changed within this place - i've become so jaded and biased and aware of all the problems behind the story i used to love it becomes strenuous to stay in charachter or to not tear people apart for their mistakes. But i guess it's because i maintained misslead ideals about what the players here were entitled to, i mean i always wanted to involve myself in and enjoy a story as deep and as alluring as the matrix, i wanted to find that same feeling that i was exposed to in the first movie - but time and time again it's been proven to me my expectations of this game and sadly even the community have changed. Not to mention, it's almost physically painful to watch the first movie or any of them for that matter anymore.

I've come to terms with my realization that not only am i an elitist, i'm also an egotist. I think after my 3 years of playing here i'm entitled to a lot more then some people, i think anyone whose put time, money and effort beyond that of just a consumer of the game, beyond someone who just plays for pvp or what have you - people who are currently content - is deserving of more then they get. I think elitism is a reduced context is brilliant because it motivates people to strive to add to the game in the way of doing better and being smarter. In the elitist sense of things, morons aren't the majority at your LET meetings. But i guess once again the idea that people who take away from the matrix experience deserve less then those who add to it- is completey rediculous.

Every player needs to be treated the way right? Once again a game mechanic driven world vs. the story of a world where no one was ever spoon fed. You never get handed the answers - someone shows you the door, you put the work in. But maybe what i want in this regard is impossible, i've heard LESIG and even rarebit is trying, and i can't say they don't make the effort. I can say personally most of them don't fufill my expectations, but i'm not as hostile as i used to be - as i understand that it's harder then most people think - but i also understand it's not impossible.

People rattle on and on about how great the community here is, and to be honest i don't see it anymore - i think the community is considered good because we all interact, but if you stop and analyze the interaction i think you can really see how hostile and bitter and angry we are. And yes i'm heavily included in this, but looking over the people who two-facedly defend the game when skimming of the perks of their posistions, looking at the people who complain and roar about items of all things that don't matter, the ideology that we'd rather fight amongst ourselves for stupid prizes and completely overlooking how stupid the story gets or how much depth it looses.

People have told me perhaps i should just take a break, but i worry if i do take a break i won't come back to the game. And believe it or not part of me still wants to be here, every so often i find myself that piece of gold that travels downstream and doesn't slip through the strainer. Every now and then a moment comes that's actually enjoyable, but these moments have been comming more few and far between - and all the elements around these moments sort of just make it harder and harder to keep looking for gold as it were.

No i don't really care about cinematics, and no i'm not bothered by the idea that mobius and beta hj are given out, what bothers me in the second situation is that you can't classify that as new content, but i know somewhere someone is. And in regards to the cinematics, i'll never complain about something that can reduce the Dev workload- as long as it increases their productivity in regards to adding to the game elsewhere like in the events department.

I'm inclined to go on about Chadwick and the likelihood of improved events in the future, and even how god awful this anniversary was - but i think i'm done whining and moaning for now - i've been doing it fo so long anyways. Part of me wants to say that today will be like an observation period, like some kind of last redeaming chance, but even if today was fantastic tommorow would be what?

Chances are i'll resubscribe just becuase SWG doesn't want to work on my computer- but before i segway into the uselessness of the SOE online support i'll stop myself and wait to see if the adoring public runs to tell me how i'll be missed and if they can have my stuff.

Yes i have a shitload of goodies, and no you can't have any.

~Darminian

Another dark night in the city, the grey sky strewn across it like a transparent shroud, the wind was calm but loud echoing through it but stirring nothing from it's place. The shrill cry of the siren filled the alleyways around it as two men lifted a stretcher into the back of the van and secured it in place. One of them climbed into the back and closed the doors, the other moved back around to the front. The red and blue lights danced along the brick walls as the vehicle pulled out of the alleyway. As the light moving lights crept along the walls for a moment a level of fire-escape was illuminated in the red light and a figure in black stood with his hands on the railing, a white stick with a crimson tip stuck in his lips.

The ambulance's cries fill the city streets as it tears it's way toward the general hospital. Back on the fire escape a ground up cigarette butt rests on the rail. The driver's eyes are glued to the road as he inclines his head and shouts to his partner.

"How's he doing?"

"Not good, he's lost a lot of blood, I've barely got a pulse."

"*poop*."

"Yeah, I'm watching the clock."

The driver lets out a sort of grunt and shifts his hands on the wheel, the sweat's built up on it, last run of the evening and he was hoping it wouldn't end on a sour note. Can't win them all he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes for what seems a second and opens in time to swerve to avoid a near head on collision with a car that hadn't moved far enough to the side.

In the back of the ambulance his partner leans over the man on the stretcher, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Don't worry, I'm getting you a second chance." His attention seems to drift as he places a hand on the man's shoulder.

"We all deserve a second chance in this place." He reaches down to a small pouch beneath the bench he sits on, unzipping it, his hands slowly remove the cap on hypodermic needle with a strange sort of silver liquid within it.

===

The ambulance screeches to a halt, and the wail of the siren falls to a whispered echo, the driver bolts out of the front seat and rips open the Back doors for his gaze to be met by a look of disappointment from his partner.

"*poop*."

"I'm calling it. Time of death 3:15." He sighs as he picks himself up off the bench and helps the driver lift the stretcher out of the ambulance and begin to cover its load with the bag. After the bodies been dropped off the two of them are sitting on the cement edge of the floral arrangement outside of the hospital. One of their hands still stained with dry blood as he lights a smoke. The driver pats him on the back and gets to his feet - he shrugs and begins to walk away, he tosses a sideways glance and the words "Just another day in mega city Al." To his partner and continues to walk on.

Al lets out a sigh and stares down at his blood stained hands, shaking his head he gets to his feet and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes falling on the swoop sneakers worn beneath the misene pinstriped pants. Sneakers and dress pants, he should figure it out but doesn't. His eyes move up across the suit enclosed by a leather trench and finally rest on the bizarre green armless shades that tightly hug the nose of the man before him. The spiked hair helps him put it together.

"Crap." He says as the cigarette falls from his lips.

"Got a light Al?" Darminian asks him.

            He stands at a threshold, the endless white on either side of him, the door in front of him the same as all the others, and yet not what rests beyond it. Like a meticulous scan he goes over himself, the weapons clinging to his coat, the bits and blades tucked away in differing spots. He twists his neck to release the cracking noise as he reaches up to adjust his collar and straighten his tie. A hand slips into a pocket of the black pin striped pants and withdraws the strange data-tap like device. The small monitor blinks and stutters as strange icons seem to revolve and fall into puzzle like places drawn for them, a minute passes before they all come into place and he manages a slight smirk.

            Pocketing it, he inhales calmly before extending a hand towards the handle and turning it slowly. The door doesn't so much open as it seems to fall away and he finds himself at first drowning in bright light before he feels the floor rip out from beneath him quickly and another replace it. He pivots on the spot looking around, his eyes bound around the room wildly before coming to rest on the man before him. The room is large; its white marble similar to the halls he'd been in pillars jut from the floor to the ceiling, suits of armor cling to the walls to his sides. Behind him two grand doors stand clung together. The center of the room holds a large and grand scale fountain, no statues, but the marble and intricate designs on it depict angels and devils in combat.

            The man next to the fountain grins at Darminian as he flips a coin into the water. He's dressed in a dark black bed robe, it's trim has fuzz edges, the interior is similar to silk, he grins at the stranger flipping another coin out of the elongated black nails extending from his hands, his skin is pale, almost reptilian, his hair is jet black with streaks of white randomly throughout, it's slicked back and the greasiness of it complements the thin goatee that clings to his chin below thin and pale lips. His face is thin and bony, his eyes a sickening yellow, the pupils black with the faintest dab of white in the center. He lets the rest of the coins slip from his bony fingers and pyramids his hands regarding the being before him. The thin lips part and yield a grinning set of fangs as he tilts his head curiously.

Have you come to play?

Darminian arched a brow as he strafed to the side slowly, his eyes not leaving the one in front of him.

Have you?

You could say that.

His pants matched the house coat in their leisurely dressed down style, and what really through the image were the slippers on his feet.

Excellent, I love games, don't you?

The gloved fingers toyed with the hilt of a pistol on his side, as his left hand clenched itself into a fist, his knuckles popping lightly. He stopped moving just short of one of the suits of armor and gripped the butt of the gun tightly, watching the man in the house coat.

Depends on the game I suppose.

Mm, well we'll find out as we go.

The smile as if not disturbing enough, took on a more sinister turn as the pyramid hands interlaced and he cracked his knuckles and turned to head toward a flight of stairs leading to a smaller set of twin doors.

You know why I'm here I trust.

I do indeed, you aren't the fist, you won't be the last.

The man replied as he continued up the stairs. The click of the hammer being drawn back on Darwinians gun stopped him in him on the stairs but he didn't turn.

We going to do this the easy way?

All in good time, all in good time - you've yet to pass the first part of the game.

As Darminian took aim at his leg something heavy gripped his wrist - a suit of armor had clenched his wrist, and held a mace above his head. The fingers of his left hand hugged the hilt of his first pistols brother, the shot barely left the barely when it collided with the suits weapon knocking the arm back and freeing Darminian from his grasp. He turned towards the stairs trying to take aim only to throw his torso back and right dodging a broad sword by inches. His right hand crossed over his chest to let loose hell on the suit with the blade, his left did the same in the direction of the one with the mace who had moved forward.

            He watched the suits spark and vibrate with every shot as he emptied the roaring brethren into the armor. The guns fell silent and a second passed before he threw himself forward, spinning in mid air, the coat flew out wildly around him as his body hit the ground the momentum allowing him to slide along the floor - the brothers screaming out with what they had left at a third suit of armor that had moved behind him. The third suit staggered backwards and collapsed as the slides of his weapons moved backwards and stayed there. He looked up in time to see the fourth suit craning over him with a two handed axe. It collided with the ground where his head had been as he rolled across the floor in front of him and got to his feet, the mace in hand.

As the suit raised its axe again the mace flew through the air and collided with the helmet sending both the weapon and part of the suit flying. He collected the pistols from the floor and slapped in two new clips, placing them back in his coat. He walked up the steps towards the doors.

They never choose the easy way.

Name your price.

~Darminian

Oh I can't wait, can't to have a new playground to run around and do nothing in, broken promises and useless efforts. I've been nullified and it's not for a lack of trying, I sit here stabbing the keyboard with angry fingers trying to make sense of this growing seething rage and all that becomes clear is my desire to hurt, to maim to break.

You don't need to see it my way, I'm not closed minded, but open your damned eyes, you wretches, you leeches, you vermin, I'm sick of the people that detract and take away that vomit on the very thing I cherish, I wish to water this wilting flower with your blood, in my mind the words of so many fall uselessly to the floor amidst lack of effort and oversight of the gifts and power they've been given.

Perhaps you don't care, but there are armies that do - people under the radar who would sleigh for your positions, sleigh for your power, and you insipid greedy children who suckle from the beast until they are fat and useless and leave us with a twisted smile on your lips, oh how I wish suffering upon you - to have so carelessly spit in the faces of those who depend on you - who look up to you. Those of you who seek no power, no change but solace in the face of corruption complacency and uselessness, there are so few of you whom I respect, and the higher the chain goes, the less my respect comes, how I loathe this. How I loathe my love of this empty place - hours spent walking, wandering and worst of all hoping. Having hope that it will change.

Hope is the quintessential first step towards FAILURE - and that's something so many of you know about. Your open doors have lead to your down fall, your stupidity breeds more of it, and your lack of desire to change things, to disrupt things, to cause waves makes you pawns, makes you useless, expendable. Should you not rise to your job, you should not rise at all, but no this is far from your faults, consumers all the same, ones who looked for help then sought to be helpful - now fallen silent and grey.

The fault rests with the highers who preach that it's not their fault, and that we should change things, that we should put fourth the effort to change things, to do that which we can to aid them, something so many try and yet watch them - like snakes diffusing your arguments, sliding away from points they themselves don't change don't try don't answer, just slip out and away. How much fire burns my tongue as I rage, how easily I could spit flame in regards to the venom on their lips - at the tips of their fingers.

There won't be justice here, there won't be, and each and all of us have their breaking point, only so many shoves can be tolerated before one eventually realizes he'd rather go out as an excessive negative thinker then be surrounded by mindless masses with open mouths ready to fellate those whom seek to give us less and less - those that bray and beg and whine like the lap dogs they wish to be for any sign of favor- and better still to see them not get it - there is some satisfaction that comes from the uselessness above.

How unrequited my love is, yet how shared it is by so many, we are worshipers of a god that walks on us without knowing. No knowledge of it's power, it's worth it's abilities and it's responsibilities - and for this it's worth is nil, it pains me - makes me sick, the venom from them fills my fists and I seek to smash them, the slight sarcasms bottle the sheer rage that inevitably explodes forth ready to expose every flaw to attack every weakness, only to see the end lies in this monolithic entity that corrupts our homes, that ruins what we have and we stand and watch as were forced away, silenced, corrupted, reduced or watch our power fade our voices fall to deaf ears. Too long have we remained silent, and yet this changes nothing, this is an outlet for a fire that could burn for years, and has been burning for years.

How I regret this place, how easy it is to say that in spite of so much else, how tired I am of those that don't deserve it, don't recognize what they are doing and how impure how irrelevant they are. So many wonderful and amazing things in this place, none of which come from those above who taint it.

And she, a being of my affections, she has the ability to tell me I'm not better, how I care for her opinion but how wrong she is. We may pay to be here but some of us pay more then the fee on paper, and not all people are created equal, not all of us are deserving of the same treatment, and you all recognize it. Look to your strengths, compare them to those who have those weaknesses and ask yourselves if you deserve the same things in that department - has your mastery your skill - your work not entitled you to more?

Combat prowess or writing skill, masteries of your own craft - the ego's are all their, but egotism and self-knowledge are completely different. It's human nature, even machine those which can do more receive more. Those more apt, are more tested, those that are superior get treated better. It works that way in life, regardless of how we like to kid ourselves it doesn't.

So understand that this road some of us walk, and many have walked before leads to an end which many have already found, but it's been a long time coming, and there is always more on the horizon.

I've vented this way long enough for now. I pity this keyboard at the receiving end of my blows.

~Darminian

That is all.

~Darminian

I have the following at level 50:

M = male

F = female

M shielded maroon
M shielded black
M shielded forest
M shielded purple
M shielded red

M armorerd purple

F shielded purple
F shielded forest
F shielded black
F shielded maroon

F armored purple

10 names.

10 names and quite a little bargaining chip.

Always work to be done.

=====================================================================

She moved teasingly slow, a true vixen at that, the tight one piece dress she wore slid listless to the floor as she stepped out of it, fully exposing the curves of her body as she leaned over the desk, arching herself to show them off.

He chuckled lightly, watching her every move.

She toyed with the radio, some kind of slow jam, he couldn't really hear it as he watched her drop her *CENSORED* to the floor and bring it up slowly.

Slow it down baby, slow it down.

She turned and drew a hand up along her thigh and up along her back, her lip held between teeth as she smiled staring back.

He grinned too, watching her turn around slowly.

She slowly waltzed, a sexy strut forwards along the floor, letting her hips swing side to side, her hands crawling up from her waist up her front, along her neck and flipping her hair.

That's good right there.

Her hands moved behind her back slowly reaching for the clasp.

That's the money shot.

Darminian said aloud as he squeezed the trigger, the bullet tearing from the barrel of the rifle and spiraling toward its target, the fingers just reaching the clasp as the bullet tears through the window, cracks forming from its entry. The curvy vixen now able to show off her brains too - or at least how well they serve as wall paint.

A man leapt from the couch in the room and ran to girl on the floor. He paused for a moment - his vision leaving the body and looking up to the window. The second shot rang out and left his body lifeless as it fell to the floor, next to the girl.

Darminian packed up the rifle and headed down the fire escape, the metal clanking the only sound that he could hear, his feet echoed as they met the ground, he pulled out his phone and dialed the operator as he continued down the alleyway.

 ===================

Eight to go.

Too long have we of the spiked hair and tall forehead group gone with the holy and ruined hats known as fedoras. No more i say, no more. Brothers and sisters let us rise to ask:

Can someone please fix this simple texture glitch, absolutely drives me nuts.

~Darminian

((More self indulgent, irrelevant NR RP, enjoy if you can bring yourself to read it.)) 

It was a newly mangled pile of steel and ash, the remnants of what had been the old cradle of civilization. The smoke wafting upwards filled the enclosed broken city with a darker tone, and the buzzing of the tentacled beasts in the sky was bone chilling. The sea of debris laid parted and washed out, acres and acres of littered wastes - and there as if insects to a corpse, the sentinels writhed and squirmed, picking and sifting through the wastes, as if in search of something. Perhaps survivors, perhaps .... Something more.

Peering down across the wreckage he marveled at the sight, the chaos draining him of his ability to speak, months ago this had been home. He let out a sigh, noting a bland sort of truth, outside of their well known capacity to create, the machines capacity to destroy was just as evident. Their semblance to humanity painful in regards to the wreckage below, a difference in way of cold efficiency and disillusioned perfection. Then again - emotion blinds us all in different regards.

The ragged clothes clinging to his frame, resembled a sort of rotted away poncho, his head wrapped as well in the black clothes, exposing only his eyes. A gentle hand landed upon his shoulder and a warm voice despite the cold brought him to his senses.

‘Darminian we need to keep moving, were right out in the open, and with the patrols as is, I doubt we'll be able to get too far in.'

He looked back at her and nodded, moving his gaze from her to Staje positioned nearby inspecting a piece of building that had collapsed, the glowing weapon humming slightly in his hands. The clothing they all adorned like a shabby homage to the new latex outfits everyone had become so fond of. His gaze shifted to Jahleel and Hawnt - beckoning the two over he gave them orders to secure the access point and watch for their return.

‘If were being swarmed shut her down, we can't afford to have anything breach, the field would probably still get them, but better safe then sorry.'

‘On it sir.' Hawnt replied as he and Jahleel tore off back towards the broken pipe they'd drug themselves through for what seemed like hours to get here.

Darminian watched them move off awkwardly, one holding the shells, the other holding the launcher. He turned his gaze back to the two still with him. Beckoning them, the three moved deeper into the wreckage dead silence amidst the sounds of fire, and the hovering of drones.

Homes, bridges, security stations - everything was completely mangled, they took up a position just south a few clicks of what used to be a main bridge in Zion, now broken and turned into a sort of ramp to nowhere.

‘What is it were looking for anyway captain?'

‘Depends on what's out here really, right now my curiosity has got the best of me, and I figured you guys could use a little field work. As for what we can find, I want know why the sentinels are still sticking around - if they are going to just keep patrols running here or establish something.' He looked between the two of them, the moment turning from briefing to discussion as Liv changed her view from Staje to Darminian.

‘What about Lock? - I mean if he's here are we going to help him or?' She asked.

Staje spoke up - ‘I say we help him by giving him a lesson about treating EPN with respect. But that's just my vote.'

‘Well I doubt we'll find him - if the machines haven't killed him, he's off in some hidey hole much better then this. He's too slippery to have just been taken out of the picture, and the ego boost he gets from being the ‘commander' isn't something he is just going to want to pass off like this.'

‘Agreed.' Staje spoke out, as Liv nodded. ‘Now in regards to anything specific were looking for - survivors, supplies and purpose.'

‘Purpose?' Liv said aloud - ‘You mean why they destroyed this place?'

‘Probably to send us a message about their power, and what they think is ‘inevitable' Staje scoffed as he replied.

‘Well whatever it is, I want to see if it's so simple or if there is more to it - you two and I know that things happen around here for more then just the reasons on the surface. Now let's scope out some more of this sector and head back, being this far away isn't safe.'

Three shadows skulked along the tortured landscape, strange intervals and awkward movements, lead them through the seemingly twisted labyrinth towards a collection of buildings smoking but still partially intact, a metal door ajar enough for them to slip inside. Inside the rooms were a mess, the contents of the rooms flipped upside down - easy to see they left in a hurry. Darminian motioned to the door they had come through and Staje moved towards it, weapon in hand he kept a lookout.

Liv and Darminian crept forward through the darkened home, trinkets and strange things were scattered across the floor, and a doll on the floor - ragged and rotted seemed to paint a picture in the back of his mind as his eyes moved to a door closer to the back of the room. The two moved towards it quietly, each step agonizingly slow as the humming and crackling of fire outside the buildings set a terrible sort of white noise. He nodded and her fingers gripped the edge of the sliding door and she pulled it open slightly.

The busted broken emergency lights sparked and flickered randomly, at first but yielded enough light to the room, amidst stacked and built up furniture, beyond that was what appeared to be a trembling mass of flesh. He inched closer, the weapon not shaking in his hands, not moving. The light flashed again and he could see them - a woman and two children, a boy and a girl.

He scanned the room frantically - it was just them, there'd been a flash of relief but it had passed immediately.

‘Why the hell are you still here?'

‘We..... Missed our transport to new Zion..... We were waiting for the next one when the machines attacked,  my husband told us to stay here and he'd go and get help and...... and .' The woman sobbed as the children huddled to her tried to comfort her.

‘Well we've got to get you guys out of here.' Darminian beckoned Liv into the room and her expression was the same as his. Almost blanked completely out of the surprise - ‘We need to get these three out of here, and I don't know how well stealth is going to work.'

‘What are you thinking then?' She asked looking up at him.

‘Distraction, extraction.' He replied calmly.

‘You don't mean.....'

‘Get these kids back to the tube, I'm going to stir up the squids - that should be enough trouble to get you guys back.'

‘Darminian - you can't it's too risky you' - She stopped when she saw the look in his eyes, she didn't need to be told that he was giving orders not making suggestions to know he couldn't be persuaded.

‘Go.'

She nodded beckoning the mother and children to follow her into the room where Staje was keeping watch over the door. There was a dead silence that hung in the air as they stood at the broken door. Liv and Staje didn't look  amused, the woman and children seemed just phased out and Darminian fiddled with the weapon in his hands.

‘I'll buy you guys as much time as I can, but I don't know how much I can give you if I still want to make it back in one piece. Just make sure you guys book it.'

Staje could only nod and tighten his grip on his own weapon.

Liv on the other hand looked worried, she stepped towards him, up close - very close. ‘You better make it, or I'll kill you.' She said without even the trace of a smile.

Darminian nodded, as he moved towards the door.

‘Good luck captain.' Staje spit out as Darminian began to clamber across the broken part of the door. Darminian cracked a slight smile and through himself over it, and into the wreckage illuminated by fire yet again.

((more to come....maybe.))

~Darminian

Enough said, make me an offer.

The room was covered in blood, empty casings, and bone fragments. The furniture was destroyed, windows shattered and walls ridden with bullet holes. He sat inbetween what used to be a desk and a the body of someone who currently resembled melted swiss chese.  In front of him were some smoking weapons coated in blood. His head inclined towards the ground, his hands resting on his knees, gripped tightly in the black leather fingers are the two silenced fm-900's.

There's a splintered pile of wood that used to be a door in the center of the room, and three other dead bodies in the room, one's half sticking out of the door, the remains of the door behind him painted with his insides, the other two sprawled out on the floor in pools of their own blood. On the floor he breathes heavily, he sucks in a large breath of air, as he slides up the wall his back never leaving it till he's on his feet. He spins around on his heels and walks backwards along the broken door, as he gets to the edge of the door a shotgun from the floor sucks in the smoke from it's barrel and flies towards the body in the door. The paint on the wall of blood and bone fragments peel off the wall and funnel into a solid object as the skin wraps itself around the now visible exiles head. The bullets exit his face closing the wounds as they fly towards the magnums and the casings jump up from the floor and into the chambers. The body of the exile spits out the bullet and sucks the blood from the wall behind it in like a sponge. The door behind splinters back into a solid piece.

Darminian whips wildly to his left and as a large cabinent behind him comes back together, the doors going back on the hinges and the several holes around the large one in the center fill themselves with the full non damaged wood of the same color. As several shotfun pellets fly across the room floating by darminian by barely an inch, the blast sucks itself into the gun and the exile seems to *CENSORED* the weapon as it falls to his side. Darminian weaves again and steps back across the door, moving backwards. The pools of blood around the other dead bodies are sucked into them, weapons slide across the floor and into their hands as they seem to slump back up in some sort of twisted resurected movement. Casings jump from the floor back into Darminian's pistols aswell as the two near him, one on his left in a chair next to a table, one on his right sitting in the couch. 

The bulletholes in the walls seems to spit out the bullets and close their mouths behind them as a hail of criss-crossing lead flies by Darminians RSI. The shots start off sporatic and terrible and get more accurate as bullets fly from their bodies into Darminian's guns. Their faces turn from expressionless, to pained to angered as their guns refill fully and darminian moves back across the door and out into the hall. The two exiles in the chairs place their weapons down near them. The splintered door flies up from the floor in a cloud of dust, and for a moment light shines through the unbelieveable amount of holes within it. The swiss chesed fellow slides up the wall and stumbles forward, closing the bulletholes in the wall behind him and sucking up his own blood, as he seems to flail his libs forward spitting bullets out of his torso and face back through the holes in the front door, into the twin clamors Darminian has in front of the door.

His hands move awkwardly and fast as he collects the bullets for his smg's through the door, and lets his left hand drop to the side. With his right he seems to take back knocks made upon the door, the smg's fall to his sides and he stands perfectly still in front of the door.

"noops on si ereht."  

He sucks in a deep breath slowly and exhales sharply.

~Darminian 

This is a pretty weak image that in the end i only really liked the shades however - i wanted to see some more of those black and white shots that rarebit has become accustomed too.

Ftr though -

This image was made in paint though, so i deserve super points.

~Darminian

Perhaps you've seen what's going on behind the curtains of mega city, perhaps you have your finger on the pulse of the subteranian hearbeat of this our city of sin, and the world behind it. Perhaps you know more about a world we don't see then that which we do.

I'm looking for the tower, perhaps one of you out there can help me.

~Darminian