Directory of Player-Created Content IV: A New OP

[Ever-Wandering Souls]

snip

That's writing! I have replaced your previous entry under the writing section, which read as follows:

Valentine Z
Gallery

World 2 – Denver State Hospital – Year 1980 (?)

Gwen propped a few boulders and went up to the air vent, in the hopes that she would not be chased by anything that is using this place. After all, how else would she explain the fact that a metal gate closed behind her without any apparent force or strong gales? Anyway, crawling along the miraculously clean air vents, Gwen made her way into one of the openings and dropped straight back to the corridor. She made her way to the right, which would lead her to the unlocked gate towards the Canteen.

As she walked past another cell, Gwen noticed something. Her motion sensors were picking up something. It was moving towards the door, then in a sheer display of strength, whatever was behind it broke the door. The commotion broke the silence of the corridor and with that, Gwen made a run for it towards the canteen and picked up a dull knife. It was not much, but it will have to do.

Readying herself for the fight, she stances herself and was prepared to fight whatever was the thing that was behind the door. It was a 5 feet tall humanoid, though not exactly human, as far as one’s concerned. It has a grey-white skin, covered only by torn overalls. Its eyes were bulging out of its sockets, though not bloodshot. Everything about this entity was black and white in terms of colour. Its head was bulging out, like a typical alien you see in those late-night TV.

“Come and get it, you bastard!” Gwen yelled out at the creature, with a knife in her right hand.

Description: (optional)

The Black Hole Incident has given one of our characters, Chief Aviator Gwen Tracer Hepburn “Fate” Ellen Trixie Caitlin Foxworthy Avril Verlene Eveline Celinda Sammy Wt. Oxton Arielle Lindall Leslie Allison, time powers. Actually, more of the fact that she was able to exist outside of time and space, and out of this game, more or less. (Those that came across my character in Forum 7 will know what I am blabbering about.)

As such, she will be going through and visiting several worlds, a third-person narrative on the adventures of Ms. Gwen. Topics and genres will vary from action and adventure, to some serious subjects (which I will try my very best to keep it serious), to sci-fi worlds from other game worlds. Basically, it will vary from down-to-Earth real-life worlds… to worlds from a literature or a video game that either everyone has heard about (or not). Some of the scenes are an accurate representation of the game/event, while at other times, it will deviate away to give something fresh of my own.

[Atheris]

Atheris
Fanfiction I've Wrote

Edgeworth hated art museums.

Despite how stuck-up, how rich, how snobby he appeared to be, he absolutely hated these places. They were so clean that he could see his reflection on the white marble, so polished that he could hear the click-clack of his shoes much more than in his office or at his apartment, and so stuffy that he was sure that if he stayed for more than five minutes he’d start having allergies. That being said, Edgeworth did enjoy some of the displays on show - he was looking at one in particular, some sort of cavalryman showing weapons to what he presumed to be a Roman Emperor.

“Royer is good, huh?”

Edgeworth nearly jumped out of his skin.

“What I wouldn’t give to see one of his original works, especially this one, in France. I once got to go to Le Puy-en-Velay with Athena, but she didn’t let me go into the museum.”

Edgeworth looked over to his left. Standing next to him was a blue-claden man, a soft smile appearing over his lips as he brushed back his spiky hair and adjusted his collar.

“Wright, what are you doing here?”

The lawyer chuckled.

“Can’t a man appreciate the finer things? You’re acting like I didn’t study art for three years,” Phoenix said, fiddling with the locket in his coat pocket before finally settling it. Edgeworth cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

“Yes, well, this is the last place I expected to see you.”

“I could say the same for you, Edgeworth. I never see you hanging up any art in your office, and judging from your facial expressions I don’t think you know what this painting is about.”

Edgeworth cleared his throat.

“O-Of course I do! See, that cavalryman there is displaying bounty from a recent conquest to the Emperor of Rome…” Phoenix held up his hand to stop him.

“That’s Vercingetorix surrendering to Julius Caesar. The title of the painting is on the pedestal, Edgeworth. Besides, it doesn’t take an eye for art to tell that the cavalryman isn’t from a legion.”

Looking back at the painting, Edgeworth had to acquiesce. Vercingetorix, as he remembered Wright naming him, certainly didn’t look the part of a Roman; he had golden armor and a leather tunic, a large mustache and long hair gracing his head. The taller prosecutor looked down at the pedestal that Wright mentioned. Vercingetorix Throws Down his Arms at the Feet of Julius Caesar, Lionel Royer, c. 1899. Hm. It certainly was a fine painting.

“What always struck me as odd about this particular piece is that the sky behind the Romans is brighter than the sky in Alesia, but I guess that can show that the Romans brutalized the town during the siege - but the thing is, the Gauls didn’t use castles like the Medieval Europeans, so it’s rather anachronistic, I suppose. This is from 1899, which is after the Franco-Prussian war, so it’s obviously supposed to be an appeal to French nationalism. One of my favorite paintings. Did you know Vercingetorix is still considered a French nationalist symbol?”

Edgeworth struggled to find his wording, before clearing his throat again. “I… I did not. I’m no expert on history, especially before the modern era…”

“Oh, you should see Athena go on and on about European history. She’s fun to talk about this sort of thing with. I was going to bring her, but she went out on the town with Trucy." Phoenix sighed, brushing his hand through his hair. "I love this piece, certainly a fine example of late 19th century nationalist romanticism. I'm sure some may call it classicist, too, but I feel like with its nationalist undertones it's much more fitting to call it romanticism, especially at the turn of the century succeeding 1871. If I could afford it, I'd hang it up somewhere in the office.”

Edgeworth was visibly confused. He always thought of Wright as some sort of "uneducated country bumpkin" (Miss Fey granted him that vernacular after Galactica's trial), mostly because of the way he performed in court, but hearing him talk in such a dignified manner left Edgeworth speechless, and he felt the embarrassment flow from his stomach to his cheeks. Resetting his glasses, he pondered over the conversation. What was he going to say next, that Larry knew more about art than him?

“Of course, Larry knows more about art than me.”

Edgeworth choked, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his forehead.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the restroom.”

He could hear Wright laughing as he walked as fast as he could out of that conversation.

Description: (optional)

(THE ABOVE FIC HAS NO SPOILERS)

I write fanfiction. I know I already have a factbook about it, but some people don't go into them and I want people to be able to read my stuff (if they want to, obviously) without having to go through my profile to do so. I'm actually currently working on a rather large project, so if you're interested, I have an Archive of Our Own account where I post all of my fics.

[Anollasia]

Hey if you're still editing this, I'd like my writing to be taken off the list. I deleted my poetry factbooks.

[Sanghyeok]

[Submission]
Category: Writing

文明七年 The Seventh Year of the Bunmei Era (1476)
This entry was written after during yet another looting of Kyoto, the Oomiya residence was burned down.

My face stretches into what some might call a smile. It's the kind of smile one might make as the student, hiding their inner terror when a teacher assigns yet another ridiculous writing assignment. Or perhaps, the smile one friend may give to another, trying to assure them that, yes, their awful cooking is edible. And maybe the smile one shows when they are too tired to cry, too angry to live, and too stressed to speak.

I know it, because all three of those are my experiences.

Those three experiences gave me the same face, same expression. But they are very different experiences, each of them. Our understanding of medicine thus far claims it is the physiological response that leads to emotion. If that is the case, why did those different emotions all give me the same physiological response? The response of a fake, empty smile on my lips.

I do not know, and I may never know.

And even so, I wish to know. Again and again this last two and a half centuries, I have found myself facing the same abyss. I still remember the first time I felt this way, when my little sister perished before she had even reached a year of age. That time, my mother comforted me. And then again, when my parents left this world. That time, my friends comforted me. But as the generations came and left, there were no more people who can tell me "it will be alright."

"Everything will be alright."

I am still as selfish, and childish as ever. I know it because it is true. But even so, even so....I still wish to hear those words.

"Everything will be alright."

Like the child who woke up after an evil dream and seeks to know that they are not being pursued by demons or being cast into a fire, I want to know, I want to feel, I want to understand.

"Everything will be alright."

But I am not. I am not who I was. I have changed, already, so many times. I will continue to change, as is nature of human....or whatever I may be.

Back in the Ashikaga School, I learned a most interesting story. It was tale from the faraway land of Greece, which explains a ship that is replaced, plank by plank, until there is not a single part of the original left. Philosophers debate: is it still the same ship?

Back then, when teacher asked, I told him: of course not. Although many in our civilization claim something must have an "essence", I disagreed. Materials are merely materials, an objects being and nature must come from the material itself. If a ship is replaced gradually, it is of course no longer the original ship. After all, if Chang'an has the Imperial Palace remade, can we say it is the same essence of the city which existed before? It would not even be Tang's, never mind Qin's Chang'an!

Or so I thought.

Yet I look at myself today, and realize the wisdom of teacher's words. Everything I know has changed. People, of course, are the fastest to go. Even those who lived the longest were gone in under a century. Memories, too, grow darken with each passing day. I can still see the colors and sights like yesterday, and for this I am glad my mind has always been clear. But other things are slowly fading away: scents and sounds. The buildings and natural beauty of this place were the last, but now they too have been lost. Burned, looted, and razed. The only thing I can bring with me forever are emotions. The only thing that is the same are those memories, and emotions.

And now even my emotions are gone.

I have always hated my weakness of crying; during childhood the slightest injury or misfortune could leave me in tears. Mother said it was fine; I came from a noble family, and outside of the public life I could express my emotions freely. But even so I hated it, for what good is a crying to do? I hated myself every time the tears left my eyes, streaking across my face and falling onto the tatami. I hated myself every time my nose became stuffed, and I found it hard to breathe as I gasped for breath and let out my inner emotions at the same time. I hated myself every time I curled onto the floor, with the pain in my mind extending to my heart, and them my stomach. I hated it so very much....

And now I miss it.

Last night, when the family residence burned down finally and the flames reached the sky, I could not cry.
This morning, when the sun rose and shone upon the ashes of where it once was, I could not cry.
Now, I sit down writing this, and I still cannot cry.

I wonder if, I have lost my ability to feel?
I wonder if, I have lost what humanity I had left.
My heart desires this answer, though I may never know.

A short journal entry I wrote from Oomiya's perspective in the year 1476, over 300 years after her birth. Here she details her feelings on the destruction of Kyoto and her family residence.

[Ever-Wandering Souls]

Hey if you're still editing this, I'd like my writing to be taken off the list. I deleted my poetry factbooks.

I am! Though I've been putting it off for bit, admittedly.

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Added, though your gallery link went dead in my delay.

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Added!

[Sanghyeok]

Hey if you're still editing this, I'd like my writing to be taken off the list. I deleted my poetry factbooks.

I am! Though I've been putting it off for bit, admittedly.

snip

Added, though your gallery link went dead in my delay.

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Added!

Thank you!

[The Three Palins]

Oh, very heaven! I just found Arts & Fiction!

I'll be honest: when I first saw the name and wred the description, I immediately thought "Farts and Diction" and passed it by. Not for me, I thought. Or probably anyone, I thought, as I went on to check out the scene on General.

But after my current hundred-and-something posts in General (and none in Moderation, praise the moderation) I got a bit bored. So many one-liners with wit that escapes me. Some decent essays, yes, but then some philistine would take them apart, and try to smash every little piece. So discouraging for aspiring writers!

Oh for the days of critics who had the decency to "critique" in a consistent style. Along with child porn and government surveillance (which we foolishly allowed onto our internet to combat the child porn), I would say that the potentiation of critics is a terrible blight on an otherwise seraphic means of human communication. No offense to dogs, or other non-human minorities who share our internet.

Could I ever have been so broad-minded without that very internet; no, of course not. Could I ever have found a more awesome, awe-inspiring and awkward medium to express myself in words? An audience even?

But that's enough. I have introduced myself well enough and my first original work will be posted when I have finished writing it. Of course, finishing comes after starting, so I must not raise expectations too high lest the writer's block gets a head start on me. If the writer's block gets around the block on you, it's like another runner lapping you in a long footrace. Just a bit dispiriting.

But I will deliver. I will write a comic piece about aircraft carrier design, and Amaterasu cast me into eternal darkness if I do not.
Disclaimer: I am accustomed to living in a hole in the ground, drawing my water from a bore I dug myself and subsisting on mushrooms. Therefore I don't have much to lose from being cast into darkness.
IF I have dropped this in the wrong thread, well that would be everyone else's fault. There should be an Introductions/Newcomer chat thread, because any ... nah, I'm being a dick posting here, and I know it. I just don't know where else it would go, and I'm not that massive cuntdick who would start a whole new thread. I'll move it anywhere it's meant to be, and heal the wound, also spoiler most of it.

Welcome to your new member. I'll call for a vote in a week or so, and leave if I'm not welcome.

[Ever-Wandering Souls]

-snip-

Excuse me sir, this is a Wendy's directory to galleries of player-created content.

[Swissmas]

Swissmas
A Final Vision (Remember Forever)

I’m in a rather unexpected place. I am dead, yet I do not see the afterlife I had seen all of those years ago. Instead of a vast, dark plain with black soil and gray skies, filled with roaming souls, I am in a seemingly endless, empty space that is surrounded by a pink haze or mist with no obvious chemical composition. This world is completely foreign to me. Even the afterlife is more familiar than this place. I almost wonder if this space I am in exists outside of time and space. If this is the case, however, then why the pink haze? I have been floating in this space for what has felt like minutes now. Everything is silent, nothing moving other than myself---my soul. Am I truly dead then? Have I somehow survived the bullet to my head? It is not likely, but it could be a possible explanation as to why I have arrived in this space rather than the afterlife. There is nothing here other than the haze.

Description: (optional)

This is a short story apart of a much larger plot line that I don't really have the time and motivation to write out on paper.

[New Vihenia]

United Federation of New Vihenia
Gallery

Description:

Basically contains my art, mostly military vehicles, aircrafts and such

[Fashiontopia]

Fashiontopia
Gallery

Description: (optional)

I'm releasing a new song called "Dancin' Like Nobody" on February 4th which details both a positive and negative experience with a girl you're dating at a party.

"Dancin' like nobody loves yuhhh!"

Be sure to visit my personal blog journey on the song here on Nationstates.

See signature for socials.

[Heloin]

Odder request but could my example image be changed to this

I've been cleaning out old reference photos and drawings and the old example I provided is too close to someone else's style for my personal tastes. Thank you.

[Ever-Wandering Souls]

3/18/2021 - Updated Heloin, Added United Federation of New Vihenia, removed Victoriala II due to broken image links.

Did not add Fashiontopia or Swissmas due to CTE. Sorry, I'm slow.

Topically, I'd be willing to pass on this OP if someone else was interested in actively maintaining it and could be trusted to do so...I spend a lot less time on this site than I used to, and I fear I'll be a worse and worse steward going forwards =P

[Soviet Progonya]

Soviet Progonya
Gallery

Description: Medic from TF2

The sample is a drawing of TF2 medic. I draw a lot of video game art and I'm also an animator (my channel is linked on my DeviantArt).

[Dawhia]

Dawhia
Gallery

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJsFs2pqDRs

Description: My latest single from my black metal project

So I play guitar and do the vocals in a one man black/depressive suicidal black metal band. Here be my latest single i put out a few days ago.

[Hustlertwo]

I guess this would be for Writing as much as anything else; interactive fiction straddles the line neatly between a story and a game, with elements of both.

The Half-Baked Principality of Hustlertwo
The Parenting Simulator

[img]<<DIRECT%20IMAGE%20ADDRESS>>[/img] (or other type of sample including text or a link)

Description: (optional)

This is a 191,000 word (they never updated the total from when I added a small Pandemic Parenting segment last year) interactive fiction story, similar to the old Choose Your Own Adventure books. It's my second IF published by Hosted Games, and definitely my most successful.

I have another HG title, Nuclear Powered Toaster, but if we're just doing one here I imagine I'd limit it to Parenting. It's a better story and a better-selling one to boot.

[Nolo gap]

not sure how this thread is supposed to work, but all my visuals are /user/themnax on fur affinity (same as for cameroi which is also me)

[Diarcesia]

Diarcesia
Stardust of the Zealous Expedition -Stardust Crusaders-

Stardust of the Zealous Expedition-Stardust Crusaders-

I did not expect that Diarcesia would have lots of Dr. Pepper in their stores! Ehehe, I'm sure he will be pleased to see me bring a pack of them later.

Well, we have to start from something. He was worried that he has to resort to paying exorbitant sums during our stay here to get his hands on them. See, he is on a trip to the Panhepisteer... ahh... the Panepistimium Hylvobrigian for a brain science presentation. It's such a complicated topic! But I'm slowly and steadily comprehending the basic concepts in the more than ten years of him and his colleagues, my friends, explaining it to me, again and again. I can't believe more than ten years passed since we met! Time flies fast, doesn't it? What a wonderful decade it has been, seeing them smiling from ear to ear makes me very, very happy! I hope this lasts forever, and I know this is not a dream at all.

There he is! I see him walking along the street. "Galatea Crossing", the sign says in English. My cheeks flushed a little at the symbolism, even if nothing will come out of it...

He is carrying a huge sack. I don't know why he has it with him. It's out of place in a busy foreign city. Perhaps they're specialty snacks and beverages he bought? He's smiling when he sees me. And I enthusiastically waved my hand.

"Hi, Okarin! Tutturu!~ I brought some Dr. Pepper!"

"Oh, you did! You are a lifesaver!"

I waited for him to cross the street to my side. He's sweaty... that sack must be very heavy. It's like he is Santa Claus, hehe.

"You know, it is not as expensive as I feared. I was able to save some money for chicken tenders as a snack."

"More like the first of two dinners, you glutton. Keep it up, and your clothes won't fit you anymore."

"Oh, I see. That would be bad if that is the case. But I've been eating lots and nothing happened to me yet."

We hailed a taxi to Arcesius's Peripheria station. I was amazed on their bullet-train system. Our hotels are in Hylvobrigia, but we are able to cover the more than 350 kilometer distance from there to Arcesius and back again in less than two hours total of travel.

The return trip is quiet with the exception of the occasional passengers walking the aisle and the continuous hum of the train. It's already dark, and I can't help but look at the sky. It was clear enough to see a lot of the stars and the band of the Milky Way spanning across much of it. For some reason, the constellations and the layout of the stars are very different from back at home. I wonder why.

And then suddenly—

"Argh... uhhh..."

Okarin has a sudden headache. Both of his hands clutch his head as if struggling to reorient himself. "Okarin!" I call out of concern.

He catches his breath after a few seconds, and soon after calms down. And yet, I could sense that in front of me is a drastically different person, like he has lived a lot more days in the space of an instant, not all of them good. He looked at me.

"Mayuri..."

And then he rummages the sack he has brought with him. "The number... it changed," he mutters. It doesn't make sense what he means by 'numbers'.

He turns to me again and asks me a question out of nowhere.

"Mayuri, check the internet. Is a certain 'Amelia Guildford' a gold medalist in the current Winter Olympics?"

He seems agitated and the request has a sense of urgency in it, so I quickly comply.

A cursory search shows the results. "Yes," I tell him.

His worried look is instantly replaced by relief, and he hugs me really tightly. It is definitely out of nowhere, but as his hostage, I do not mind.

Once he lets go of me, he smiles really wide and begins to laugh maniacally.

"Ha."

"Haha."

"MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The other passengers throw dirty looks at him and the train conductor chides him into keeping his voice down. "Sorry," he answers the conductor in an English accent that stood out from the others. And me? I do nothing: he is always like this, and I always like seeing that part of him.

He takes out his phone and put it by his ear. "Operation Laufey has been a success. Astraea Crnčevic did not attain a high enough score for a gold medal. It might seem insignificant, but her being a gold medalist set forth a chain of events that would spell the end of the world as we cherish it. The mischievous ways of the Organization knows no bounds nor honor. And once again, they have been thwarted by the bringer of chaos and the destroyer of the world's system. The mad scientist of madness, Hououin Kyouma! El. Psy. Kongroo."

Description: (optional)

A Steins;Gate × Diarcesia IC fanfic? Or an RP?

Why not both?

[Huaren Gongsi state]

https://imgur.com/gI7hzB1
Might register for the directory soon but I need to work on more gun models first for this nation, example above is a JMZ-04N PDW
(also I can't use IMG, "It was not possible to determine the dimensions of the image" error)

[Diarcesia]

https://imgur.com/gI7hzB1
Might register for the directory soon but I need to work on more gun models first for this nation, example above is a JMZ-04N PDW
(also I can't use IMG, "It was not possible to determine the dimensions of the image" error)

Add .png to the url for the embed to work

Code: Select all

[img]https://imgur.com/gI7hzB1.png[/img]