Tasteful meanderings of an interstellar swordsman?

Tacky maybe, but promises to be vastly entertaining.

• 28Mar 08

  Subentry 2: The declaration

  Stop using my Blog to hold conversations with one another you bags of lol.
  • Posted Mar 28, 2008 9:10 pm PT
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• 26Mar 08

  Entry 2: The Natives grow restless.

  It seems that the natives don't entirely understand my manner of humor. I made some sly comments last night in regards to the leader. Rather than forming any sort of discourse with me about my playful banter, the followers of Knight turned rabid. one of them, especially, was chomping at the bit to come at me. He impotent rage was quickly quelled when he was informed that I was merely joking, and that Knight was laughing at my humorous jokes.

  It does seem, however, that there are some sensible members here. A Dragoncub wandered up to me and was friendly enough. Though I do believe I'll wait on making any sort of decisions on forming close-knit friends with these people, especially the ones with pointed teeth and that might have a taste for flesh.

  I've noticed that these people also do something they call roleplay. They take turns pretending to be other people and tell a story. This isn't entirely new since we do something like this where I am from, but the manner in which they approach it is most unnerving. Rather than writing their story in any serious form, they type in basic speak. Dialogue is portrayed with the speaker's name first, actions are simply interjected. It is more like reading a play than a story. Where lies the narrative? The prose? The flowing descriptive text that gives the world they are playing in life? They play pretend in a dead world without light or sound or structure. Everything is flat and blank save for the players, and even they way they interact is staggeringly limited.

  Perhaps I can contribute to these people and show them how it is done where I come from. They may enjoy it and adopt my methods, or they may rejects it outright. Either way I feel I should show them something different. Even if they dislike it, it's always good to be exposed to new things.

  We shall see.

  Marcelino

  --The Blackguard

  • Posted Mar 26, 2008 1:51 pm PT
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• 25Mar 08

  Inital Entry

  Entry 1: The Crash.

  I've arrived in a strange place. The natives call this place GameSpot. I call is terror incarnate. The natives speak, what initially seems to be English, but after spending any amount of time with them, I quickly realized that the speak some bastardized form of the language. While my people end their sentences with a period, the natives seem to use the word "lol" to act as a period. Almost as if they feel the need to make the end of their statement audible.

  I don't know if there is anyway for me to repair my ship, but I must leave here sooner or later. I fear that if I stay too long I will be assimilated into the culture of these people, and find myself unable to escape. I have already been adopted by a tribe. They call themselves Union's, but they are really nothing more than glorified mobs ranting about idiocy. The Union that adopted me call themselves TSP. I can only assume it's an acronym, but knowing these people they might well have just thought the letters sounded pretty together. I suppose that, given enough time here, I will create my own Union. I've already begun to draw followers.

  The leader of TSP is known to me only as Knight. He seems a fool at times, but well meaning. I don't know what to make of his minions, they seem loyal enough, rising up to defend Knight when I mock him with banter.

  I don't know what to expect from these people. They are strange and faceless. They are brilliant but inane. I fear for the worlds outside of this one, for if these people ever escape they might well doom us all.

  We shall see.

  Marcelino

  --The Blackguard

  • Posted Mar 25, 2008 2:20 pm PT
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