Keystone Gray
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Posts posted by Keystone Gray
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Sera, if I do go, I wouldn't mind rooming with you either, if that offer is still there.
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I tried. It involves some overcomplicated crap in which you need to go into your network settings and establish another network entirely. For some reason my computer wouldn't let me do it so I gave up after a full week. Don't go for wireless setups to the router, unless you plan on buying the original one from Microsoft... but that one costs 100 dollars. I think Microsoft intentionally made it difficult to do any other way.
If you want to try (your friend's computer might be compatible): http://www.overclock.net/faqs/104621-how-n...xbox-360-a.html
Needlessly overcomplicated, right? I wish it was just plug-and-play, but FFFFFFFFF.
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"It'll be the end of the world for you if you don't shut up." I lawl'd.
*Watches second video.*
Oh... Oh GOD... This is the funniest shit ever.
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Chuck Norris has nothing on this.
Say hello to Freddy.
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Bitchin' photos from your games go here. TF2 freezeframes, epic moments, anything awesome. Plaster it in this thread.
That's my final character for Fallout 3... I might post more pictures of her without her helmet on later, and maybe some stats if anyone is interested.
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Fairly educational! I should definitely submit this to the local college immediately, they could easily work this into their curriculum.
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Lucidius has always been one of those "for the lulz" types. He was in PSC the moment it was founded. I've known the guy for almost four years and if there's anything I've learned from dealing with him, it's that he stopped aging at 15. He's always been the way he is. Back in the day it was cool, he and I were real close friends. Sooner or later I outmatured him, realized he wasn't worth hanging with, and dropped him like a rock after he tried to start drama between me and my first partner.
Sadly, before all that, I ended up bringing him into Second Life. Got him started, payed for his furry avatar (which he still wears around, or did, before he joined Chaos). After I stopped being his friend, he joined 39th in an effort to get closer to me in some mere method, tried to see me. (He had some love interest in me.) He blew his chance when he came to Badnarik av flying with megaprims with nudie pictures of a couple Mercz members. Permaban't, estate-wide.
From 39th, he resigned and and grouphopped for a little while (I think) and ended up in PSC. The rest is, as they say, history.
We're on neutral terms now, sort of outgrew our differences and never really reconnected. He's still a total full-on "for teh lulz" goon, trolls Ordo in New Jessie, all that sort of thing. Pretty much a run-of-the-mill Chaos prick to everyone.
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a. Banned from SL;
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I'd be interested. I have a marker, my mask is in my garage somewhere so chances are I'll never find it. :p
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I stopped playing on the furry servers. Too many hypocritical whiners, the "WAAAAH, I'M SAD THAT THIS IS BROKEN, but you can't complain about anything you bitch about so stfu" sort of aristocratic fucks.
So now I play on the "TheTempest" cluster servers. :D The {pDs} clan is full of a bunch of nice people. :o
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TL;DR VERSION (of first post):
Contribute and you get promoted, do not contribute and you will not.
I build often, I work damned hard at other things though. Developers can contribute in pretty much any way a non-developer can. It's just another avenue, and you shouldn't feel compelled to pick up building or scripting for Ordo if you feel it's the only way to get somewhere.
I'm often asked, "Why have I not been promoted?" Everyone believes that, to contribute, you must be of rank or no one will listen to you. This is untrue. Anyone may contribute. Your ideas mean massive values to the officer corps, mainly because we do not have time to pioneer new initiatives, and they are generally so absorbed with maintaining tradition that they hold very little leeway in making revolutions in training, development, process, etc.
It is the ground troopers and the new people who see things for the very first time who give the greatest contributions, because as little value as they believe their opinions hold, the suggestions mean leaps and bounds to us. Don't hold back, look at how things are going and try to understand ways to fix problems that need fixing. Ask permission to help with them!
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I would like to forward a public apology to all of Ordo and the Merczateers for my recent outburst in Ordo coms. In a fit of stress unrelated to my comment, I made a few judgments of character of the leader of an allied military: Lurdan Huszar of the Merczateers. In doing so, I made mention of things I did not really mean, and made Lurdan falsely appear to be an untrustworthy individual.
This is my first huge mistake in Ordo and I certainly plan to keep it as my last, as I have seen what mistakes of this caliber can potentially lead to. In my libel, I tossed aside one very important thing in my mind, and this is something that I implore all of you to keep well to heart: They are our allies. No matter how far our stressful days go, they are not stressful enough to allow us an excuse to go way out of our way to make someone look unreasonably conniving on no proof or proper grounds like I did. Sweeping statements such as the ones I made are dangerous, no matter who makes them.
With that said, the Merczateers are there to help us and support us. The alliance that the groups of the Iron Symphony have made has helped us through countless experiences with people whose goals were directly aimed at destroying us whether that be as an alliance or as an individual group. We'd do the same for them. We've been a wing of support for one another, and surely we will continue to be so long as we continue to be respectful; you can not have trust without respect.
We have long transcended our roots of spite even as other groups in the Second Life military community hold onto their hate, and we're lucky to have an alliance free of them. The Iron Symphony prides itself of being there for one another, and our goals are generally within the realm of accordance. Protection of our ideals is, above all, most important to our alliance.
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... Wut.
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Are there any Titan scripters who want to hop on this? They're pretty much done modelwise.
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The syringes I do believe are 10 or 11 prims each (Yeah, ouch), and I think there are 12-14 of them. I'll send you a copy of one, Anly, and I'd appreciate any help. :3
Keller, the axes are all yours if you want to give them a try. I'll drop the textures on you, let me post a link here.
EDIT:
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A project I'm working on. I've got the models and the sounds down entirely. All these weapons need is a scripter and animator.
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Syringe Gun
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Prims: 230
Rounds: 40 syringes
Used by: Medic
Other info: None
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Blutsauger
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Prims: 95
Rounds: 40 syringes
Used by: Medic
Other info: None
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Bonesaw
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Prims: 54
Rounds: N/A
Used by: Medic
Other info: None
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Ubersaw
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Prims: 47
Rounds: N/A
Used by: Medic
Other info: None
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Rocket Launcher
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Prims: 58
Rounds: 4
Used by: Soldier
Other info: Reloads one round at a time.
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Shotgun
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Prims: 37
Rounds: 6
Used by: Soldier, Pyro, Heavy, Engineer
Other info: Reloads one round at a time.
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Makarov
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Prims: 33 (Almost throwable. >_>)
Rounds: 12
Used by: Scout, Engineer
Other info: None
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Wrench
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Prims: 24 (You can count them in the screenshot. :D)
Rounds: N/A
Used by: Engineer
Other info: None
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Balisong (AKA Spy Knife)
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Prims: 11
Rounds: N/A
Used by: Spy
Other info: GENTLEMEN
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Electro-Sapper (AKA Engineer Piss-Off Device)
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Prims: 23
Rounds: N/A
Used by: Spy
Other info: Since the intended role of this tool is impossible in Second Life, I was thinking it could be a throwable electric grenade that shoots out arcs of electricity that kill on impact, and then it explodes after a few seconds. Could be used to lock off doorways for a small bit of time.
More in development, I'll post them as I update them.
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[19:27] Keystone Gray: RUN, QUICK. GET OUT NOW! While you still CAN!
[19:27] Kitsy Bunnyhug: ?
[19:27] Keystone Gray: Gunau is going to offer you candy. D:
[19:28] Keystone Gray: He's like Nanao except there is no age limit. :<
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Imperator Aryte Vesperia rode atop a tank with a sniper rifle in his arms. He signaled the driver to slow down, and realized that although he was close enough to take the shot on his most despised enemy, he had no ammunition. He stated loudly to all in the vicinity, "Is there anyone kind enough to lend me a .50 BMG round? I seem to have forgotten my ammunition for hunting."
Suddenly, the Right Hand man of Imperator Vesperia's intended target walks up from the bushes and says, "Well of course, good fellow! But may I ask, sir, what is it that you intend to hunt with a tank and an anti-materiel rifle?" Imperator Vesperia replies, "Wabbits."
The Chaos Imperialis general smiled in understanding. "Certainly! Enjoy your hunt." Imperator Vesperia thanked the man, and payed him in awesome points* and smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my hunt." He very skillfully levels his sniper rifle and sights his target, uttering those sacred words...
"Boom. Headshot."
*Awesome Points! Redeemable at any Vesperi'os cereal stand for 3 free boxes of cereal for one awesome point. Non-transferrable.
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"I think it's for you."
I lol'd.
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I slay newbies in my spare time.
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[12:43] Tuomy Boa: Ordo Administratum (High Command) and Warrant Officer Nivanglus Aya has been banned for repeated harassment, and now the attacking of Mercz. Enlisted.
Labeling allies as heretics and killing them in our own sim, none the less, will not be tolerated. Do not remove the ban.
- Leyten
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It was dark and cold. I was crouched in the mud, deep behind enemy territory. My Thanatos had crash landed. I had survived, but my co-pilot was dead. She didn't have a chance; her pod was smashed, and she was grinded to a fine paste 40 meters back.
It was raining. Knowing that the guerillas would come investigate for survivors, I knew I had to hoof it to anywhere, but couldn't stay there. The rain was my best friend and my worst enemy; it would mask my scent... and make it easier to hide. But if they brought an experienced tracker, I would have been easy to follow. Footprints in the mud are good indicators. Looking through the jungle, I could spot beams of light. Good, I thought. They're inexperienced. I knew I had to act quickly, and I bolted into the brush.
A few shouts were sounded, but none in my direction. They came from the crashed craft, and were muffled from the pouring rain. I looked back. Binoculars out. I hooded the front lenses so the rain would not obstruct my view, and peered through the jungle foliage. The lights were gracing the once beautiful craft's wings, the owners of those beams a mere meter away from their demise. I spoke my late co-pilot's name under my breath alongside a brief apology, and reached for a detonator on my belt. There were four hostiles surrounding the Thanatos.
A good catch.
The craft exploded. I turned and ran quickly, dodging branches. I could suddenly hear the shouts behind me, getting closer and closer. One of them had spotted me. How, I didn't know, but it did not matter. I was on the run, deep behind enemy lines, with the enemy closing in. I reached for my belt again, and grasped my only grenade. The flipswitch on the top was set to incendiary. A bad choice in the rain. I flipped it to fragmentary, pulled the pin, held the spooned grenade tightly in one hand and kept the pin on the finger of my other. It was my own personal Alamo in a can.
The rain slowed, but didn't stop. This was bad. The mud would not be obstructed, and thus it was easier to track me. I kept my hold on the grenade, kept running, could still hear the voices behind me. I told myself to not look back, said it under my breath quite a few times. My radio was smashed in the crash; there would be no calling for backup this time, no calling for an evac, no ability to rally at a LZ because there was none. I was on my own, MIA, presumed KIA. The only person I could rely on was myself. Suddenly the voices got quieter. Endless jungle surrounded me in each direction, and even though the Guerilla Rebels owned this territory, I knew they couldn't possibly keep up with me. I had not been fighting in the field for the past few days. I had them beat on stamina, and I used this to my advantage.
I found a river. The current was strong, and it was apparently three times higher than its normal saturation. I wouldn't dare wade through it. It was relatively quiet now, I could rest myself a bit before continuing. I panted strongly, regained my breath. My tongue brushed the water from the fur around my lips. I hunched over. I looked down at the pinless grenade, sighed, fitted the pin back in, and then tossed it upstream. It didn't explode, and so I went to retrieve it. It was still in working condition. A good thing, because I needed every bit of munitions I could get my hands on.
The rain picked up again, which implored me to move faster. A brief check of my fluorescent wrist watch showed me that it was 2 AM. I sat in the mud, rain dripping over my uniform and soaking me. No doubt I'll contract some malicious bacteria from this, I thought. Or a virus of some sort. I needed to get myself out before the effects of such a thing could happen. I knew this was damned near impossible; the enemy owned this territory for a hundred miles in every direction. I was downed, alone, issued with a single submachine-gun, a sidearm, and no more than 90 rounds. A quick inventory of all equipment I had on me revealed that I actually had the submachine-gun, no sidearm, no sidearm mags, and only a single magazine for the MP9. I also had my combat knife. I had foolishly forgotten to scavenge Duplicarius Rawley's body for extra munitions, and what's more is that I lost a lot of gear as the jungle tore at my equipment during the run.
I looked down the muddy river, from upstream to down. Sat on my rear, wrapped my arms around my knees, and flicked my ears free of water to listen. Not a pindrop, spare the rain. I was almost quite literally up shit creek without a paddle.
I didn't sleep, as much as I needed it. Too often through that night, I was reliving the moments before the crash in my mind, wondering if there was anything I could do to avoid it. The missiles came too fast. I probably couldn't have dodged them if I tried. What was supposed to be a quick air raid and a snatch-and-grab of a VIP became a hell for me. The mission was a success. Julia Rawley and I had become casualties. Minor deaths for the greater good. We knew what we had signed up for. The only difference is that Rawley wasn't getting the chance I got. At the moment, I was glad she didn't; she was pretty lucky to not have to experience what I'm experiencing.
She was a good trooper. Passed her training with lukewarm results, but did alright, and eventually improved. She was always eager to get herself up in the air for real experience, and she was always in the combat simulator. She loved the guns. Jules could peg a tank to the ground using nothing but a scope, thermals, and a rotary cannon from half a mile away. All of her training, her experience, her talent and ambition were thrown away hastily to a single missile. She had extensive survival training. She didn't need it.
We were providing covering support for a special ops team. Intel from the brass had come in and gave us the location of a defector, a VIP who had a lot to answer for. Who it was and why was not important to us. We went in low and silent, using the valleys for cover, with two support craft (NE-087 and TH-102) in front of and behind the dropship. In the span of four seconds, we flew upwards over the plateau that hosted a small enemy compound, the dropship spurted out six drop pods, and we swung back down into the valley. For the next few minutes we artfully dodged and evaded enemy aircraft.
Pickup time. The Invictus team reported mission successful and requested an evac. We provided a quick sweep of remaining ground targets - Rawley performed as expected - and the dropship reported cargo collected. And then we were off, NE-087 providing proper air cover support. Our craft gained altitude and dropped speed, coming up above and behind the recently-scrambled enemy fighters. They were eager to take us down. Rawley opened up, her cannon spinning, and the enemy aircraft sputtered explosive shards before falling down to earth. We cheered, and the dropship quickly picked up speed, preparing to exit the atmosphere with NE-087. Suddenly and without warning, we were targetted and shot down. We did not see our attacker. I'm assuming it was a SAM. I still don't think it matters.
We completed our mission. My debrief ended up being a hot-foot through intense jungle with no hope for survival. Rawley's debrief, a dirtnap. I missed the kid... but there was nothing I could do for her. She gave her life for duty, and an improvised funeral pyre was the least I could do for her... and at least she took a few of the bastards with her. She died with the craft she loved best, doing what she enjoyed most.
Rest in peace, girl... and wish me luck.
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To be continued.
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I agree with Kristian; the problem with having people having different rounds is that it will be difficult to determine who is who on the battlefield. We generally fight unorganized enemies with very little effort put into the creation of their weapons. Their bullets are bright, edgy, badly textured, badly made. You may not notice it, but you are able to determine the team designation of a hostile just by the rounds they fire.
Now consider putting a radical into the mix of extra round colors. Consider the enemy is using a bright yellow bullet (as most are apt to do). One person with a bright yellow round in one of our weapons is going to confuse our teams. I'm all for individuality in armor designs and pretty much anything else if properly cleared, but if it diminishes our raid teams' abilities to define targets, I'm against it.
Also, please don't cite the Terra HUD, not everyone has one, and even still, it's probably the most unreliable piece of equipment in laggy situations.
EDIT: I'm not against customizable gun colors; my point is that bullets should be standardized.
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He once muted me for being in Ordo, and he used to be a friend of mine. He hates Ordo. But just be polite to him and his mannerisms may change, his hate is unfounded; he decided to mute me when I questioned him on why he hates Ordo so much, meaning he is unsure where his spite comes from. No doubt it's been planted in his head by Dark Svenska and the rest of the Chaos goons. If we're polite, he may shape up.
Old School: Persecutus Plan Sheet
in General Discussion
Posted
Oh neat, history. *Readread*