Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • You didn't run with scissors, though.

    • Actually, I just have really deep pockets.

    • I have relatively deep pockets. Nothing to write home about, though.

      ahem Back on topic...

    • No, you don't understand. It's like... a super power. My pockets could fit the Empire State Building in them. If I could just pick it up...

    • Quote

      You didn't run with scissors, though.

      No, but I did have a hammer...

      Anyway. I have been thinking, and I just wanted to caution everyone that I might not be ready with a teaser by next thursday. It just depends on how everything works out. After all, you only get one chance to make a first impression, and I didn't want to ruin it by releasing too early.

    • waits with face glued to the screen, anticipating teaser

    • Okay, time for today's update! I added the next mission in a storyline, including a 2800 character whopper of a desc, and refined some other mission things. I also shot my mouth off unfairly at Cosmic Nuisance, so I'd like to apoligize again. It wasn't right of me to do that.

    • @shlimazel, on Sep 13 2007, 03:57 PM, said in I'm well into developing a TC....:

      Okay, time for today's update! I added the next mission in a storyline, including a 2800 character whopper of a desc, and refined some other mission things. I also shot my mouth off unfairly at Cosmic Nuisance, so I'd like to apoligize again. It wasn't right of me to do that.

      Apology accepted. Sorry for any inconvenience or annoyance I may have caused. 🙂

    • Back in the hinterlands of space, a star went nova. It wasn’t such an important one to history, except that around it flew a globe called Earth.
      Sol erupted.
      The gasses of Jupiter were torn and ripped by flaming wind,
      The mighty trees of Mars, grown over decades of sweat and toil, burnt to cinders in an inferno of plasma wind,
      The songs and works of the Earth, a beautiful world of many thousands of gleaming cities, were gouged apart with untold brutality, bathing our home with death winds and wiping our home from existence’s slate.
      The race fled.
      Aboard just five hundred proud ships kilometers long, 100 billion humans fled in terror from the sun god’s celestial wrath.
      Flying at hundreds of kilometers per second, the wall of solar plasma screamed towards the last of our race.
      Some wept.
      Some prayed.
      Some killed themselves.
      And some, some brave few, set their jaws and plunged to the line, ready to fight the stars themselves for themselves, their kin, and their race.
      The ball of fire plunged onward, a ravening glimpse into the maw of death.
      The ships sliced through space in what was to be their first and final race.
      And then against all odds, the engineers eked out more, more, more speed.
      The ball of fire dropped behind them.
      It faltered,
      It fell,
      The ravening hound of plasma death howled as it ran out of food.
      It began to devour its tail,
      It imploded upon itself,
      And then they cheered, and cheered, and cheered, knowing that they had looked death in the eye. 
      They knew little of their future, they’ve mourned for their past. The curtain closes, for the race survives.
      
      ---------------------------------
      
      The Present
      
      The galaxy is so vast that the vastness of known space is tiny.
      We explore.
      We exploit.
      We survive.
      The merchants control space. Their marines enforce their laws. The exceptions are the worlds controlled by inter stellar governments.
      Pirates loot merchants, merchants hire mercenaries, and mercenaries kill pirates. It’s a vicious cycle, but to survive in space you must enter it, one way or the other...
      
      You can’t be happy on your homeworld. You know what riches await the brave, you think you know what awaits the hasty.
      Perhaps you are greedy.
      Perhaps you are bored.
      Perhaps you are stupid.
      But in any case, you bold. No one enters space without boldness. And some who thinks themselves bold find out to the contrary...
      This is the year 3349, February 22nd, and you have just entered space. Your actions may change the course of history, or you may penniless. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive.
      But remember this. 
      No captain plays the game of life without a stacked deck, for in this game you play to win.
      So go. The universe awaits you...
      Captain.
      

      This is the introduction text for my TC. It may be revised soon, so this is not totally final.

    • @shlimazel, on Sep 14 2007, 06:44 PM, said in I'm well into developing a TC....:

      Back in the hinterlands of space, a star went nova. It wasn’t such an important one to history, except that around it flew a globe called Earth.
      Sol erupted.
      The gasses of Jupiter were torn and ripped by flaming wind,
      The mighty trees of Mars, grown over decades of sweat and toil, burnt to cinders in an inferno of plasma wind,
      The songs and works of the Earth, a beautiful world of many thousands of gleaming cities, were gouged apart with untold brutality, bathing our home with death winds and wiping our home from existence’s slate.
      The race fled.
      Aboard just five hundred proud ships kilometers long, 100 billion humans fled in terror from the sun god’s celestial wrath.
      Flying at hundreds of kilometers per second, the wall of solar plasma screamed towards the last of our race.
      Some wept.
      Some prayed.
      Some killed themselves.
      And some, some brave few, set their jaws and plunged to the line, ready to fight the stars themselves for themselves, their kin, and their race.
      The ball of fire plunged onward, a ravening glimpse into the maw of death.
      The ships sliced through space in what was to be their first and final race.
      And then against all odds, the engineers eked out more, more, more speed.
      The ball of fire dropped behind them.
      It faltered,
      It fell,
      The ravening hound of plasma death howled as it ran out of food.
      It began to devour its tail,
      It imploded upon itself,
      And then they cheered, and cheered, and cheered, knowing that they had looked death in the eye.
      They knew little of their future, they’ve mourned for their past. The curtain closes, for the race survives.

      I like this part.

    • Thanks! I listened to some Halo 2 music while writing this, and it got me in the mood.

    • Okay, time for today's update! The above is what I did today. Not nearly as much as I'd hoped, but it's still good.

    • Some typos.

      But in any case, you are bold. or maybe But in any case, you bold the dangers of space.

      Hmm.. I caught some while I was reading it but now I forget. Remember, proofread your work.

    • Yes, you very bold. You a bold space captain. 😉

      I'll fix that.

    • I love turning nouns and adjectives into verbs.

    • Calvin: I like to verb words.
      Hobbes: What?
      Calvin: I take nouns and adjectives and use them as verbs. Remember when "access" was a thing? Now, it's something you do. It got verbed. Verbing weirds language.
      Hobbes: Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding.

    • It sounds like you were trying to be poetic, a sort of free-verse prose poem. I don't know if that's your intention, but I had the misfortune of reading lots of poetry last semester, and that's what it reminds me of. And to be blunt, it needs a bit of work still.

      I think it's also worth pointing out that the Sun isn't capable of going supernova.

    • @joshtigerheart, on Sep 14 2007, 11:48 PM, said in I'm well into developing a TC....:

      I think it's also worth pointing out that the Sun isn't capable of going supernova.

      Why's that? Is it too small or something?

    • Yeah. If I remember correctly, it has to be a red giant or a star around that size to be capable of going supernova. On top of that, it has to be at the end of the star's life, aka how it dies. The Sun would just collapse into a brown dwarf or something (I don't remember exactly), but it would be something like over a million years before it even comes close to that.

      I probably should do a little bit of research and refresh my memory on the subject...

    • According to Wikipeda, the sun will turn into a Red Giant and then a White dwarf within the next 10 billion years.