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Postby theleaf » Sun Jul 28, 2002 6:18 pm

Okay, in this post I want you to describe your other body.
Okay, that probably didn't make much sense so I'll go into more detail. Imagine yourself, not you, the person in the mirror but you, the person in the adventures (Obviously you'd need an imagination for this task). Like me for instance, I don't really like my body the way it is much and because when you enter these other worlds in text adventures, role playing games etc. You have to have a physical body in that other world, generally people stick to their basic body in the real world but with slight differences. I want you to describe the general other-world body you make for yourself.

Mine:

You see a young man in front of you. He appears to be in his early twenties and has the demeanor to match. He has rather rugged good looks with messy dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. He stands about 6 feet tall and is pretty muscular and well built. He appears to be human from what you can see but even though you can't pinpoint it there is something about him that would suggest otherwise.

(Okay, I know I'm not very good at writing and that probably wasn't a very good description but why don't you lot have a go?)



Edited By theleaf on 28 July 2002 at 21:32
"Bye!"

"Seeya!"

"Thanks for the mint."
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Postby Woodfish » Sun Jul 28, 2002 7:20 pm

I really picture myself (as I look in real life) in games where your character isn't important to the plot, and you don't get a description of yourself or something.

I know that wasn't a proper answer by the way, but at the moment I don't feel like writing. :8



Edited By Woodfish on 28 July 2002 at 20:33
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Postby Mystery » Sun Jul 28, 2002 7:31 pm

Before you stands a young woman, in her late twenties. Her long light brown hair drapes over her shoulders, slightly curling at the tips. She appears to be fit, but her shape hides behind a dark, floor length robe; twined at the waist with a silken azure colored scarf.

Her steel blue eyes look up, toward you, but you cannot read her mood. She is as much a mystery as that of the universe. You wait for her to speak. Her lips part, only to close, not uttering a single word. You had hoped to hear her the sound of her voice, but that too, remains a mystery.
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Postby Mut » Sun Jul 28, 2002 9:04 pm

You see before you a man in his mid-twenties. He has long, jet-black hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail. His eyes are a dark brown, with a small hint of ... is that crimson? He wears a long black overcoat, unbuttoned to reveal a tight leather jacket and snake-skin pants. Though not appearing overly muscular, you get the idea that he could hold his own in a fight. Perhaps it's because of the hardened look in his eyes, or the squareness of his jaw. More than likely, though, it's because of the two gold-plated pistols strapped to his belt. His eyes narrow as he scans the area, alert to everything, and you quickly look away as he turns his gaze onto you.



Edited By Mut on 04 Aug. 2002 at 01:34
R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson (1937-2005)
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Postby Mercury » Sun Jul 28, 2002 9:36 pm

..



Edited By Mercury on 06 Aug. 2002 at 12:54
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Postby Superplonker » Thu Aug 01, 2002 11:21 am

You see before you someone who looks just like Brad Pitt.
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Postby Slayerized » Sat Aug 03, 2002 12:05 pm

I don't know about that, but here's the description you'll get if you'll look at yourself at the project I'm currently working on, "The World Is Just Too Much".

"Well, here I am. Daria Morgendorffer, international superspy extraordinaire. Not enough that I can't seem to open this oyster of a world I live in, now it's my job to save it. No, really. It was in the job description."

Yup.
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Postby Mercury » Sat Aug 03, 2002 12:17 pm

..



Edited By Mercury on 06 Aug. 2002 at 12:55
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Postby The Mad Monk » Sat Aug 03, 2002 8:46 pm

>in

You enter the room and are immediately almost bowled over by a man, apparently in a big hurry. He is in his late thirties, and is dressed in an odd, silvery coat and a pair of deerskin pants. Upon his face are the traces of a beard. He doffs his battered fedora to you, hoists up his pack, and continues on to the east.

>e

You follow the man to the east. As he strides quickly through the convieniently appearing forest, a thief drops from the tree above him and demands his money. The man withdraws from his odd coat a nasty-looking serrated dagger, and the fight is on. The thief dodges the man's lunge with the dagger and pulls from his belt a dagger of his own. Steel flashes in the beams of light penetrating the canopy of trees above until the thief bashes the dagger from the man's hand with the butt of his own.

>attack thief

You throw yourself at the thief from behind, striking him squarely in the back with your shoulder. He falls, and the man scrambles to regain his blade. You sit on the thief's chest, smashing him in the face with your bare hands, until he punches you himself. You topple backwards, dots of light dancing in your eyes, but still coherent enough to see the man drive his dagger into the chest of the supine rogue.

>stand

Attempting to climb to your feet, you fail miserably, but the man walks over and helps you up.

>thank man

He shrugs and gives you a little smile. "Typically, the policy out here is 'every man for himself.' Seeing as how you helped me, though, I figured I could make an exception."
In related news, Kenneth Ham reveals that he knows precisely squat about fossils. Film at eleven.

That's Poodle's lovely avatar up there...
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Postby T. Mulkerrins » Wed Aug 14, 2002 10:14 pm

The sight that presents itself to you as the door opens, can only be described as somewhere between a giant, wild bear and a fat smelly tramp. With short, grubby hair, that looks like it lost a fight with a lawnmower, a huge, hulking mass of ponging flesh and hairy arms scratches its belly as it takes a swig from a beer can, or a puff on his cigarette. Wearing faded blue jeans, with the ends of the legs frayed, and a black, short sleeved t shirt, with a skull and crossbones on the back, surrounded by the words 'Rocket from the crypt', he shuffles around the room barefooted. He pays very little attention to you, apart from the occasional learing glance and shows no sign in wanting to engage you in conversation (which you are very relieved about, as the pong is very over powering.) :0
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Postby En Kerklaar » Thu Aug 15, 2002 5:05 pm

You see nothing special.
Why can't you eat soup in the Matrix? Because there is no spoon!
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Postby Mystery » Thu Aug 15, 2002 5:10 pm

LOL :p
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Postby ds490 » Thu Aug 15, 2002 5:59 pm

Oh, dear god...what is that???

(or)

You see an abnormally short boy, about six years old, with messy blonde hair. He stands beside his doll named Hobbes, a mischievious grin dominating his face. He wears a red and black striped shirt and black pants.

(or)

You see me.
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Postby The Mad Monk » Sun Aug 18, 2002 12:25 am

You forgot to mention that Hobbes is a tiger doll...
In related news, Kenneth Ham reveals that he knows precisely squat about fossils. Film at eleven.

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Postby Lancer Sykera » Sun Aug 18, 2002 12:55 am

You see nothing special.


Oh no, we're playing a MUD with someone who doesn't know how to use the description command, nonetheless that it exists. :8
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