myOtaku.com: Black Mage TBow

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1987-09-26
Gender
• Male
Location
• wherever you go, there you are...
Member Since
• 2004-05-13
Occupation
• what did you call me?! NUKE to you!!
Real Name
• Black Mage T-Bow, duh...

Personal

Achievements
• graduated high school, created a Final Fantast table-top RPG, dropped atomic bow on a game boy color and broke it
Anime Fan Since
• '98
Favorite Anime
• Hellsing, Trigun
Goals
• publish RPG, get into Full Sail, graduate from Full Sail, start a career with SquareSoft (yes, SquareSOFT! Fuck Enix!!)
Hobbies
• ninja-ing about, playing video games, NUKEing shit
Talents
• baseball, piano, math, dropping bows, NUKEing shit

myOtaku.com: Black Mage TBow

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

www.ctrlaltdel-online.com...
Don't get the wrong idea, this isn't mine.

Twas the the night before Winter-een-mas, in one darkened arcade,
From the back came a glow, of a game being played;
The power-ups were mighty, the top score was near,
The gamer grinned wide, for Winter-een-mas was here.

As gamers 'round the world waited with anticipation,
Huddled in groups by their favorite game station;
The lone arcade gamer, with his eyes lit up brite,
Beat the high score at the stroke of midnight.

Then from the other machines, there arose such a noise,
The gamer startled and spun, clutching his coins;
As the arcade lit up, the gamer swallowed his fear
And watched as the spirits of Winter-een-mas began to appear...

Surrounded by light, they hovered in mid-air,
Such breathtaking beauty, he could not help but stare;
He knew them of course, all gamers did
And one by one, recognition sit in.

The spirit of action and adveture, the platformer great
A hero by name, and an alpha by fate;
With a whip or a gun or whatever may be,
Nothing stands in his way, with a princess in need.

Along side him he saw, a rather peculiar lad
Quiet by nature, with a desire to frag;
First person shooters are his field, his sole expertise
And no one is better, at bringing n00bs to their knees.

And he couldn't mistake, with his many bruises and scrapes
The one who beats his opponents into interesting shapes;
It's the spirit of fighting games, and that's the reason he drools,
Too many blows to the head, and kicks to the jewels.

Be it a surprise zergling rush, or skilled micro-management,
Through the fog of war, he saw the spirit that could handle it;
Empires had risen and had fallen, under his sole command,
There was just no disguising the real-time stratagy fan.

There was the spirit of the racing genre, looking ready to start,
With his goggles and racing gloves, and speed in his heart;
In a plane, or a boat, or just a fast automobile,
He's always at home when behind some sort of wheel

And as everyone does, when the vixen of roleplay he saw,
The arcade gamer had to kneel down, to pick up his jaw;
With her mana and hit points, and ten-sided die,
Many fall under her RPG spell, and never know why

And last but not least, the patron of sports games
Ailed by an old football injury, or that's what he claims;
Yard by yard and inning by inning, year after year,
They say he loves winning... almost as much as beer

They spoke not a word, but went straight to their labors
Moving quickly and quietly, without waking the neighbors;
They spread Winter-een-mas joy, and when they were done,
These spirits flew off, for seven days of fun

They took to the sky, with a whole world to travel,
And gaming spirit to celebrate, to reach the last level;
But as they departed, the lone gamer heard them exclaim...
HAPPY WINTER-EEN-MAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD GAME!
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