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I always had the idea that once people get married it should be on a timed basis. Like, every five years they get their marriage license renewed or something like that. I mean, it's not in human nature to be with one person for that long. There should be some interest checks along the way. It'd prevent a hell of a lot more divorces. At least...in theory. :P

I voted no, but really it's yes and no. Anything in excess is bad for you and marijuana is no different. It's definitely not as destructive to your body as other drugs and not as immediately destructive as cigarettes. In moderation, weed use wouldn't necessarily be healthy but it wouldn't be that detrimental to your health either. I don't crave marijuana. You may have a moment where you're like, "I wanna get high." But it's nowhere near the way people get behind harder drugs. Hell, it's not as bad as people get behind cigarettes during a nicotine fit.

Berial crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently, ever so often peering around the corner of the alleyway for sign of Xane or soldiers. He was just supposed to scout. He should be back by now... He pondered, walking from end to end of the alley. He eyed the other three: Lucas, Poke, and Alastair; and pondered what they could be doing while they waited. Or if they should be moving to meet Xane. "There's no way he should be gone this long." Berial finally spoke. It was directed at no one in particular, but he still awaited a reply from someone. More to calm his imagination, if anything. The other students had dropped like it was nothing, so what was the difference for them?

Lucas did his best to stay calm, though breathing raggedly. He sat on a discarded air conditioning unit with his arms dangling loosely to his sides. He'd told himself he was going to be independent of Berial when they were underground but it was proving hard to live up to already. How could he steel his resolve when people that appeared stronger than him were shot down? The youth brought his left hand up and rested it on the hilt of his sword, his fingers making circles over the jewel in the center. It calmed him a little to know that he was armed. Though he wasn't as well adapted to swordplay as his brother, he figured he could continue using it in conjunction with his Telekinesis until the situation absolutely called for close combat. He raised his head when his brother spoke and surprisingly didn't find a lump in his throat. "Just be patient. He said he'd be okay, so let's have a little faith. We should wait a little longer and then go after him." Carving his own path, indeed.

Swords clashed and grinded against sheids as the battle raged on. The red sun raged heat upon the armor-clad warrior and his demon foes alike, yet they seemed undeterred by the harsh conditions. With a swift parry, the warrior ripostes and dispatches of an enemy, crushing another with a deft slash. He circles the last enemy and rears back to deliver the final blow when out of nowhere, a noise. The squeal of a hog and the crash of armor smashing the ground haphazardly. He turns his gaze to the side and sees an armored boar charging his way, tusks in position to kill. He rolls away, but into the path of the enemy and can barely raise his axe before he is impaled on the demon's spear. The warrior crashes to the ground on one knee and then falls over, fading into nothingness along with the 10,000 souls he held.

A bright "YOU ARE DEAD" flashes across the TV screen from Mason's suddenly ended game of Dark Souls.

"DAMN IT!" He exclaims, tossing the controller to the side on the couch. This isn't the first time he's died in this session and the point where his character spawns is very far fom where he died. "Con Clavi Con Dio" by Ghost plays moderately loud in the background, it's infectious riffs soothing Mason and bringing him to bob his head in tiime with the music. As he sighs and comes back to reality, he hops up from the couch and saunters over to the kitchen area to refill his humoungous metal bowl with another half-box of Fruity Pebbles. It was strange, Mason had no problem putting away abnormal portions of food but his size always stuck. He was 20 years old and a solid 150 pounds. Not bony, but he was definitely skinny. It switched between toned muscle and dead weight with his irregular exercise patterns and drug use. Ever since he started doing Leznaroth regularly, he'd been in pretty good shape though.

As he poured the mound of cereal into the bowl, he felt his phone vibrate and nimbly shoved one hand in his pocket to pull out his phone. He tapped the screen to open the message from Matt:

ya, it was ripoff anyway. sure i'll head over. gonna eat 1st tho. i'll be there in 15.​

​

Mason nodded and typed back sporadically:

very cool. put some pep in your step this stuff is worth it.​

​

After pressing Send, Mason reached in his back pocket and pulled out the bag of aforementioned 'goods'. It was called Blue Dream and Honeysuckle. Cost him 70 bucks for a half ounce. He rotated the sack between his fingers and smelled the greenery, it was strong. "Ahhhh," He sighed out, "Matthew better hurry or I'm gonna start without him, heh." And with that, he carried the bowl of cereal back to the table next to a gallon of milk and began breaking the plant down to the side.​

There's more but that's all I can think of.

Edit: Oh yeah, these too!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOdNMwTNNhA

Although they're not my No.1 favorite band anymore, I still wholeheartedly believe that The Beatles were the best band to ever bless the Earth with their presence.

GODDAMN THAT'S HARD. Uhhh...

For the moment, it's this:

For story reasons, it's probably just because the storyline hasn't actually moved that far. In real-life reasons, it's most likely cheaper for Square to keep using/adding onto the same character model. They do that in a lot of RPGs.

Not in the form that it's in, definitely not. I think the singing b.s. should've been an extra minigame to maybe do after the real story in Atlantica. I actually liked Atlantica in the first game and they probably could've done some cool things with the underwater combat in II. I just hope they bring it back in normal form in III.

Punk rock. The Ramones, The Dead Kennedys, Black Flag. Metal. Be it Thrash, Doom, Sludge, Death, Black, etc. It was all about expression. Expressing your emotions, your pains, your fears, and your deepest and darkest thoughts. People write it off as noise. Noise with unintelligible, meaningless lyrics. Just fuel for teenage rebellion, the occult, and devil worship. And you know what? They're right. One could could argue forever about the complexity and skill in the music. The meaning and true message of the lyrics. Bryan definitely could. But the underlying truth is that the music is all of those things. However, it's fans identify with the chaos. Millions of pained, angry, and lonely teens go unnoticed and don't have anyone to relate to. So they start with the music and find themselves happier, releasing stress just by listening to the things they wish they could say. Questioning parents, questioning school, questioning religion, and questioning life.

Ah, digression, the point was expression. And Bryan Mason Everett has no problem with expressing himself. Perhaps that's why the young man's room was in the ramshackle condition it was in. The bedroom he slept in was pretty big. A wide double bed, which Bryan was splayed across on his stomach, sat in the center of the room against the wall with a nightstand on either side. There were several band t-shirts strewn across the floor, discarded plastic from CDs and game wrappers, and the occasional Thrasher magazine. There were several posters rolled up on the walls: One of Black Sabbath w/ Ozzy, One of Sabbath w/ Dio, another of Slayer's Seasons in the Abyss album cover, and finally a huge painting of his Leznaroth persona, "The Gnasher", that another player had given him hanging over his bed, his two favorite skateboard decks depicting Thrasher pentagrams on either side. A Stone Cold Steve Austin alarm clock sat on the nigthstand to the right, declaring the time every hour with a spirited, "GET UP PUNK!"

Bryan lived in a 2-bedroom apartment his cousin, Blake, had allowed Bryan to use while he was in the Peace Corps. Blake had hit the state lotto for 8 million and set it up to where the rent and bills were automatically charged every month. It was actually suspected that Blake had gotten on the wrong caravan to his camp in Niger and had been kidnapped by child soldiers...so it was safe to say Bryan had moved in permanently. Bryan prefers to be called Mason now, he doesn't hate his first name, it's just his way of putting the past behind him. He and his parents had had a heated relationship throughout his teenage years over the music and his behavior, which is why he sought solace in moving in with Blake. Bryan also smoked a lot of grass. Blake was into free expression and whatnot so they never really crossed wires.

Mason rolled over in bed, slumbering until his shift at the fast food joint he worked at. He didn't have to work until the afternoon, so he made a point of sleeping until then. Unfortunately, as if possesed with laziness-hating demons, the Stone Cold clock blared a screeching tone and yelled out, "GET UP PUNK!". What sort of sick, tasteless f***ing joke was this? Almost instantly his hand shot out from under the sheets and slammed down repeatedly on the nightstand until his fingers found the Stop button. "UGHHH! Damn you, Steve Austin!" He grunted, moaning as he pushed himself up and turned over on his back to sit up. 9:30 A.M....9:30...whose idea of a sick prank was this? He sat up and rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hopping up.

"Might as well get the day started." Mason said, pushing down Play on his iHome which subsequently began blaring the opening drum fill to "The Wolf is Loose" by Mastodon. The young man made a show of taking his shirt off while air drumming along, simultaneously sliding open his closet with his foot. A wide arry of dark, multi-colored shirts, ripped jeans, several shorts, and a pile of accesories filled the closet. All of this paled next to his Leznaroth costume in the center of the closet. It was pretty expensive, the armor wasn't cardboard wrapped with foil, it was low-grade plate metal. The eyes in the skull on the abdomen were hand-painted and made from real pearl. With the rent and bills paid every month, Mason's paycheck could go to pretty much whatever he wanted. He grabbed the Another Enemy shirt with the Reaper on it, a pair of camo shorts, and some black Converse with a spiked armlet to go with it. He laid them out on the bed and left the room to go take care of the morning duties.

-ONE PISS, TEETH BRUSHING, SHOWER, AND DRESSNG SCENE LATER-

Mason sat on his luxurious couch in the living room, devouring a huge mixing bowl full of Fruity Pebbles. The TV was playing Spongebob at an obnoxiously high volume. "Mmf...boored." He slurred through a mouthful of cereal. The boy picked up his cell phone and typed a text to send to Matt:

"yo, what's good matt? i heard you were too broke to buy the Yari looooool. hey man im boored and some doosh set my clock to wake me up early <_<. if you're not up brooding, you wanna come over and hang out until work?...i have 'theleaves'."

With a quick push of a button the message was sent off.

♦ Full Name: Bryan Mason Everett
♦ Nickname: Mason
♦ Title: The Gnasher
♦ Appearance: Mason
♦ Fantasy Appearance: The Gnasher
♦ Age: 20
♦ Race: Dark Elf
♦ Class: Battle Monk (Self-titled "Instrument of Evil")
♦ Weapon: Toothed Sword (In the picture.)
♦ Occupation: Fast Food (OOC)/Ritualist (IC)
♦ Personality: Although 20, Bryan exudes the teenage punk-rock/stoner attitude. He's a devout smart-aleck and most of his speech drips with sarcasm. Despite this standoffish buffer, he's actually pretty friendly. In real life, he dresses in mostly black and always has some sort of piercing or spiked accesory. He carries this over to his Leznaroth persona, "The Gnasher", who is a much more sinister version of himself that brings out the occultish, evil style of the music he listens to.
♦ Group: N/A
♦ Group Name: N/A
♦ Other: Bryan has a lot of cousins.

Lol not at all, it can be confusing.

Nah, that's not how it works. They're not working with a specific dev kit, they're building the game on a PC program and then porting onto the next gen systems. From there, they do the touching up for specific systems. These are titles early in the gen, so they'll prolly end up looking just on par with each other. I don't think we'll be able to see the performance differences in games until later in the gen or unless it's a first-party developed title.

I was wondering if that trailer was gameplay or not. Makes sense. At least it's real-time footage though. It looks good in the engine.

I just bought the first one yesterday, been wanting to for years. VS looks badass too. What are they adding in the Director's Cut?

I was really hoping by "accessible" they didn't mean making the game easier. It looks like the difficulty's been retained. Hype restored.

Lol to me, this game could be about Noctis embarking on a quest to murder the creator of pea soup. I just wanna beat people up and teleport.

This game is looking sooooo good. I just wanna know if Ground Zeroes and Phantom Pain are merged into one game or not.

The contextual moments in combat look insane. When he smashes the guys head on the cop car or that badass moment when all three of them team up on the Behemoth. The combat is looking to be deeper than I thought it would be.