• 1

    posted a message on Looking for Staff


    I have a home-server that's strong enough to hold 20 people. I am looking for one more person to be part of the team.

    I am looking for people who:

    - are over or is 18

    - are mature and determined to help

    - are able to speak English fluently

    - have moderation / administration experience (min. 6 months)

    * It's a 'plus' if you are skillful at building and/or at server plugins.

    If you are interested, message/add me on skype: styrofoam.cup

    Come visit:

    Posted in: Server Recruitment
  • 2

    posted a message on Twelve Days of Destiny


    When he woke up, he reached over for a golden nugget in the dark. His feet stumbled onto the cold and wet cobblestone ground, as he sat on a red, worn, and featherless bed. He tightly clutched the small golden nugget with his soiled hands and squinted his tired eyes, like a thousand pounds of coal slowly crushed together into a crystal clear diamond. Inside his mind, he could hear a vast volcano rupturing up, like an earthquake within the palms of his hands. As he released the golden nugget slowly from his stricken strength, the volcano faded away and his hands unwrapped with sweat. His large hands had been cleaned of the black dirt, and he slipped the golden nugget into the left empty pocket of his grey pants. He opened his eyes into the darkness, slowly waiting for the shadows to disappear, and then he saw himself, sitting alone inside a stone room.

    Outside of the stone room, footsteps came echoing through the iron door. A warder appeared into the open frame of the door. Three loud taps with a blunt stick knocked onto the metal door, and he glared at the man sitting on the bed.

    “Prisoner number 802,” the guard exclaimed, “Your time has come.”

    He closed the frame where he peeked through, and walked a few steps slowly from the door. After a few seconds, more footsteps echoed through the door and stopped in front of the door. The door clicked with a heavy key into the handle of the door, like the sound of metal grinding together. Finally, the heavy door opened slowly with ‘802’ in bold black ink on the front. Three prison guards stood in plain sight of the man, heavily armed with large iron swords and leather armor that was slightly darker than the corner of the room. They grabbed the man by his skimpy arms and slowly dragged him out of the cold room.

    He glared at the light colors of the windowed hall with his rusty miner's eyes. The prison guards took steps that sounded like smaller echoes at another end of a fallen oak log. The sound repeated and deducted its echo each time as they reached closer to the end. The man looked down at the tiled floor, seeing each tile fly down in front of his eyes like a falling vine, collapsing into a line forever until the sky followed down. The movement of the embossed tiles progressed his sickness, he felt a strange mixture of white and red hot liquid in his pale and thin chest. He began to imagine the square tiles curl into cones that covered the textured walls like he'd never seen before. The man was like a sick man with trypophobic fever, a never-ending pattern of irregular holes beginning to curl into his dark empty mind. Everything was becoming into slow pit of quicksand.

    -Chapter 1-

    I saw the vast city underneath my eyes and beneath the heating sun. It was inside my beating head; my curiousness of the only treasure I sought that lied between the soft sand and strong stone, but it always did in my stubborn mind. As I walked between two fine lines of colliding dunes, my skin became like the malignant sand as it swallowed my wrapped feet like a pit of freshly squeezed human blood. I didn't feel anything less than a drop of sweat in a pot of soil; dried up and desperately striving for a day of rain which I could continue to desperately strive for another. The deep steps that I took were swept away by the burning wind, off into slabs of sand in another traveled dune. I felt the heat beating against my dried eyes, like a fish grabbed by the tail, and swept across a floor piled with razor thin paper, feeling each sweep with a slit on my fragile bones.

    The air smelled like thin slices of beef topped onto a hot soup, and ripe gases of camel dung around the formidable walls. I didn't know what to think about the dung, but I felt my empty stomach growl for a good minute, until I reached for the sandy bricks of the golden bridge reaching to the gates of Nirima. I walked across. Crowds of travelers shoved and pushed me aside to rush inside into the city, then the gates closed and everybody who didn't make it went back to the other side of the bridge. I stopped in front of the gate, two dark-skinned men with large iron swords and leather armor on. One guard looked away, he looked like he didn't want to deal with anybody. The other guard stared at the me, then he inspected me, like a deadly vulture that was hungry for the steaming carcass of a dead. He uncrossed his baggy clothed arms, and walked in front of me with his head up high. His sword clinked against his boggling money pouch, and the smirk on his face looked like he was unimpressed of me, like I was just another lost foreigner.

    "It seems like you've had a good sun bathe out there." He sarcastically said. "Unfortunately, I can't allow you in with that.", he pointed at the side of my right hip, where both of my blades sheathed. "You're gonna need to give it to the authorities, but only if you wanna enter without dealing with problems." he added with a sinister smirk.

    I gave him a dishonored look, and slothly turned around for the vendors across the bridge. I felt enraged by the snarky attitude he'd given me, an attitude to receive from a corrupted guard. I wanted to kill him furiously in the middle of the bridge; in front of every man and woman, like a clawed beast of a deep wilderness. I felt a rush of blood through my veins, and the dark blood in my heart pumped quickly, like a bullet train powered by the most powerful nuclear energy. When I reached at the other end of the bridge, I quickly turned around and glared at the guard walking back to his stilted position. I felt it again, the heat of the sun bursting away my skin and organs, like a seared steak, ripping my flesh against the bricks of the bridge.

    A hand grabbed my firm right shoulder. I turned around with the reflection of blood in my eyes to see an elegant woman in a red robed hood and as I stared, my eyes quickly began to slowly dilate into a burst of blue like an opposite blossom in the mediate of a green spring. She let go of my relaxed shoulder, putting her small hands above her red hood and slowly putting it down like a blanket in a park, as she smiled with delightful green emerald eyes. Her elegant dark brown hair glistened in the flaming hot sun in lighter shades of brown, stringing equally in the air like a thousand kites flying above a sunset sea. Her existence made everything around feel like a cloud; perfect to see and hold in your arms.

    "I haven't seen you for months" she said delightfully. "Where have you been?", her lips sparkled like pink roses glossing in the spring, and her smile was perfect like the person she was. The entire market turn around to her, and stared like poor hawks.

    "I've been walking through these deserts." I replied, then I hesitated. "I haven't seen you in forever, too." and I smiled back with my enlightened eyes almost closed from my soiled cheeks. I didn't know what to exactly feel from her presence, but I knew that the warmth didn't come from the heating sun beating on my back. The warmth mysteriously came from her, and my heart didn't fill with rushing blood or intense rage anymore; it felt as if it flowed like a river running through endless miles of forest plains, and into a deep blue and beautiful ocean. Her voice soothed my rage away like the burst of a bubble. Her presence was lovely, like a summer day in a park with two melting blue popsicles. I didn't want to kill anybody in the middle of this sandy bridge anymore. I didn't want to feel like a beast and show every man and woman what I can do; not in front of Sarang, at least. I didn't know what else to feel in that moment.

    We walked towards the tall city gates together, and the guards gave us entrance. The dust within the walls blew towards us,and the sound of people rustled into our souls.

    -Chapter 2- [Work in progress]

    The long roads in every direction were filled with hooded civilians and sweaty vendors. Small buildings that were filled with hundreds of people ran along each road. I followed Sarang as she took my hand, and she walked towards the beautiful blue palace among the smoke of the city. As we slowly walked towards the palace, Sarang looked back at me and was horrified that I was very thin.

    "We should get something to snack on before we get to my home." She said. She looked around for a vendor, and there was a person selling the finest kebabs among the rest of the sellers. Its' rich smell of onions and sliced beef filled my nostrils, and the beef looked vigorously cooked with sparkles of salt spread evenly. I offered to pay for each kebob, I wanted to be Sarang's good friend. She was part of the royalty, but she was disguised. She didn't want me to buy it because she knew that I wasn't made of money, so she pulled out her pouch and told me that it was okay. Then, a thief ran by and snatched her purse. She gasped and yelled after him, then I sprinted for him through the busy streets and into an ally. When we got to the ally, he had nowhere to go, except climbing the impossible architecture of the walls. He climbed up very fast and I followed him from below. While he was running down a wooden plank between two buildings, the wooden plank broke and the man fell far onto the ground. He was critically hurt, but I took back the pouch and tried to help him. Sarang came and told me not to help him because he was a criminal and should be left to die. I couldn't say anything because he was a thief and Sarang was a royal princess, so we left him and I felt really sad for him. We continued going to the palace, which was not very far from where we were.

    We got to the palace without the food, but Sarang had ordered the maids to prepare a meal for a special guest. She wanted to show me her collection, but King Geamon wanted to see me again for a long time, so he came to get me. We walked around the courtyard garden and he asked me to do a favor for him. The favor was becoming a highly-trained fighter for the first reconnaissance of the Belirian Military. He said that the first reconnaissance would become a special force and be put into important missions. I hesitated, but I accepted his special offer because I wanted to become a better fighter whilst being around Sarang. King Geamon told me that training would start the day after, and that he was glad to have me part of his kingdom. We went down to eat with Sarang and the rest of the royal family. After the meal, I went to Sarang's room to see what she had to show me earlier. She said that she had collected pieces of fallen stars around the desert. She gave me a complete fallen star that she put together into a necklace, and then we talked about our adventures. I told her that I was going to be part of the first reconnaissance of the Belirian military, and she looked worried. Sarang knew that I was going to be moving into dangerous areas, where if I were to be caught, they would torture me and interrogate me for days. I told her that it would be okay, and we said goodnight to each other.

    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on Dear Amora
    [This piece of writing is based on a true story. It is a story which fills sympathy in some of us who've abandoned much time for video games]

    The humid surface of the black, leather chair and solid black wooden desk stamped the fingerprints of Evan's hands, slowly faded away by the cool air conditioner next to him. For sixteen hours now, Evan sat in the same spot playing video games, looking forward at his glimmering screen. The sound of the keyboard tattered across the room and rebounded back to Evan's ears, for which only darkness and the light of the screen filled the room. As the aluminum doorknob turned, the voice of Amora entered the room, a beautiful young girl who had the eyes of a blue guardian of the crescent moon.

    "Evan, you've been playing on that game for way too long, now.", Amora said frustratingly. She turned on the light, and took off the headset on Evan's greasy hair. "Did you hear me, Evan? I told you two hours ago that we're going out for dinner and you still haven't done anything."

    As Evan turned to her, he gave her a look for taking his green headset off his brunette hair. "I heard you the first time, and I told you I'm busy." he replied tiredly.

    Amora crossed her arms and stood next to Evan; "Look, I've had enough with this gaming and if you're going to keep this up, I'm going to become stressed out and-", a tear rolled down her face as she was speaking. "Evan, I don't have much time to spend with you.". She wiped her face with the touch of her fingers and sat on the bed behind Evan's chair.

    Evan looked at the floor with guilt, legs crossed in his chair, and hands slowly reaching down to his lap. "...I can't do anything about that, Amora...". He took off his glasses and placed his right hand into his face in sadness.

    "Remember when you used to play the guitar everyday? I loved to listen to you play, and I used to sing along with you. Why don't you play the guitar anymore? Why can't we be normal couples?" Amora asked softly. She placed her left hand on Evan's shoulder softly.

    Evan looked up at her in confusion, with a depressed look, he replied, "I don't know, I just have better stuff to do than guitar and singing, I guess.". Looking ashamed of himself, he moved Amora's hand off his shoulder and put the headset back on.

    Amora slowly brought her arm back to her hip and walked out of the room, and she softly closed the door on the way out.

    The next morning, Evan went out of his bedroom for food. He checked the living room and kitchen to see if anybody was still in his house. In the kitchen on the granite counter, he found a yellow sticky note that said "Please eat the pasta I made for you, I went home by myself. - Amora". Of course, Evan took the note, threw it away and went back to his bedroom to play more video games. In the hallway next to the window at the far end, Evan saw a long, black, and curved bag. He unzipped the bag halfway, and took a deep sigh. It was his acoustic guitar he'd never touched for months, with the red glittery heart sticker pasted on the fifth fret on the Spanish cedar fret-board. Once again, Evan had guilt in his heart, because of the memories he had with the guitar, how he loved to play the guitar for Amora. The smell of the guitar's neck smelt like Amora's strawberry and honey blossom perfume, which Evan had given her on their first anniversary. He thought about the time he'd spent with Amora, and decided to clean up his mess. Evan started organizing his soda cans from his dusty desk into the recycling bin, having a shower for the first time in twelve days, and cleaning his bedroom of odors and leftover food. He thought it was a good day to show Amora he could change himself for her.

    About thirty minutes of cleaning later, He wanted to write a letter of sincere apology to Amora. Evan went to his bedroom and cleared his desk of the keyboard and mouse, and slapped a piece of paper and pen onto his desk. He wanted to apologize of his lack of attention for Amora and the amount of trouble he'd caused in their relationship. Evan wrote about how much he wanted to change himself and become a better person with her help, and wrote a promise that he'd never abandon her like last night. It was perhaps the most mesmerizing letter he'd ever written in a long time; as him and Amora used to send love letters to each other every night.

    "Dear Amora,

    I've been thinking about what you said last night while you were at my house, and I've realized that our lifespan isn't as long as I thought, and I really wanted to say that I'm sorry for not spending enough time with you for awhile. I've been really selfish lately, and the internet community has really gotten me deep into my own world, a world which I can only imagine alone, but I wanted you, Amora Seriya, to be part of it, because I can't live a world without you. I wanna be a changed person, but I want to do it with you. I'll promise to never abandon you again."

    A knock on the front door was given, and Evan rushed to see who it was. As he opened the door, red and blue lights were flickering outside of his window. Two police officers in navy blue jackets were at the front of his doorstep, hats in their hands, and posture kept tightly tall.

    "Are you, Evan Woods?" asked one of the police officers.

    "Y-yes, I am Evan.." he replied. He let the door open as he stood straight with the letter in his hand, and when the officer told him what happened, his hand clutched the letter.

    At the cemetery, Evan stood straight above the gleaming coffin, within the leafless trees and cold temperature, holding red roses and a crumpled letter. As tears rolled down his face, he'd realized how much grief was placed around the people he truly cared about. The cold cloudy sky blew Evan's black tie and brown hair towards the coffin, and the pedals of the roses fell onto the coffin. Pedal by pedal, Evan regretted the last words he'd said to her. He regretted neglecting her attention, her love, and her careness.

    Evan stood over Amora's tombstone. It'd said, "Amora Seriya - 1989 - 2014. Victim of cancer who died in a car accident, may her soul be in peace.". There was a long, black and curved bag on Evan's back, and an unread crumpled letter in his right hand. Evan sat down next to the tombstone, placed the letter next to the dead roses, and unzipped the long black bag. Slowly placing his fingers on the frets, he strummed the rosewood acoustic guitar in a very emotional tune. As he strummed more decently, he opened his mouth, and started singing Amora's favorite song. As Evan closed his eyes, the dead rose pedals fell and the wind blew Evan's hair towards the yellow sky.

    "I'm sorry." Evan softly cried, as the warm tears rolled down his cheek, chin, and unto the ground of brown leaves. He closed his eyes and the red roses fell out of his hand.

    Rest in peace; May 25th, 2014

    If you like the story, please comment or green arrow it. Story may be improved.
    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on Grimeel the Traitor
    Another ender-like story. If I could list all the ender stories I've read so far, there'd be a whole new forum for "ender stories"

    For the writing, you've done well on spelling, but you're not providing enough detail or explanation about sorts of information, such as Oscar. I'm not sure what to think about Oscar and his personality, neither on Grimeel.

    Please keep writing, and refine your skills as usual.
    Posted in: Literature
  • 1

    posted a message on Sleeping Foot's Multiversal Art Shop [OPEN]
    iDiamondGirl, your drawing has been completed and shown on this topic for greatness!

    Here is the alternative link: http://i.imgur.com/lgjHSCB
    Enjoy your new drawing!
    Posted in: Art Shops
  • 3

    posted a message on Confession Thread
    I just turn on the sink...

    to sound like I'm washing my hands. :Skeleton:
    Posted in: General Off Topic
  • 1

    posted a message on Steve's Tales - Lots of stories in a topic!
    Hmmm... "The Second Steve", a basic story; not an in-depth plot.
    Where is Steve's brick house? What does Steve look like? What is Red Steve building his house with?
    There are some parts of your content that need to be defined clearly.
    "I was a very good friend of him, but one day...", a sudden transition of event in a sentence can easily confuse a person or cause a twist of mind.
    When a dialogue or quote appears, you shouldn't use a hyphen before a text, instead, you should use quotation marks wrapped around a speech or dialogue; "Hello, my name is Steve. What's your name?" I said.

    So you should work on adding more details to your text, perhaps adjectives could be useful to describe Red Steve's shirt. Give a good reason why it's red, so the reader knows what the shirt represents.
    Posted in: Literature
  • 2

    Age 16
    WI, United States

    Daily hours
    2-4 hours

    What spot I want
    Graphical Designer

    What I can do to help the server
    Just as any other graphical designer, I'm willing to put my skills in use. This includes creating advertisement banners, video editing, and animation. video editing and animation would take more time to finish than editing photos. It'll be my pleasure to be part of the administration, as well.

    Why should you employ me
    I have adept knowledge of using creativity on the computer and I have the ability to take responsibility for almost everything.

    Other info
    I've been playing Minecraft for four years now, and to be honest, it has been awfully boring without anything new to do. As my signature says, I'm a music producer/DJ, so any simple tracks you want for a video can be made by me without paying for copyright.
    Posted in: Server Recruitment
  • 1

    posted a message on What would life be like without the Internet?
    Open for a long adventure....

    In the non-internet world...

    There lived people who were hard working, royal, and physically fit...

    Everyday of their lives, they'd go outside and play with their friends...

    No cell phones or computers, no trolling and no video games...

    Everybody, beautiful and smart...

    The world would be nearly perfect.

    Posted in: General Off Topic
  • 4

    posted a message on Stop. Just Stop.
    Quote from Minicraftz

    How are these guys flaming you? Your being very ignorant, and you're probably gonna see that word as "flame" too.

    Posted in: Discussion
  • To post a comment, please .