46
WDL Winter 2015 / Re: Week 2 - Map23 RAGECTF10 [Feb 2 - Feb 8] Discussion
« on: February 04, 2015, 03:07:44 PM »
this just in: map23's lift is a fucking broken mess
glad we got rid of 14
glad we got rid of 14
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47
WDL Winter 2015 / Re: Week 2 - Map23 RAGECTF10 [Feb 2 - Feb 8] Discussion
« on: February 04, 2015, 01:52:55 AM »
"The Head Has Spoken"
Chaos was erupting in the hallowed Halls of Judgement. For years upon countless years, men tested their mettle against each other in sprawling battlegrounds dedicated to the most primal of instincts, War. War has and always will prevail in humanity, so the original Judges felt it was prudent to funnel such urges onto a set of fields where people could either fight each other or an ancient species that once threatened humanity. However, one tribe had found a way to almost cheat the system, a system which has been in place for a long time. Such a transgression, while known to the other tribes as a possibility, had riled the councils and the battleground was voted to become disposed of in a manner befitting the wild chapodecima jaroslavus. I took it upon myself to visit one of the ancients to find a solution.
In his office were aging relics from a time almost forgotten. I circled around the room for awhile, before the host entered. He was decorated with the skulls of the fallen, all those whom he bested in battle. Of course, this world, you could live forever, and if you were slain, then you'd just come back. Some sort of alien technology, I reasoned. However, the skulls were of those who had great skill, but none were greater. Except one, but he now lives on an island retreat, having sex with the locals whom considered him a demigod owing to his 3 arms. The potent one, he was called. But no matter.
"Why have you entered my office without an appointment? I do not take kindly to disturbances of this nature. Speak, and speak quickly, for I have little patience for those who unearth me from my slumber," he declared.
"There's a problem with one of the latest battle arenas," I established.
"That matters not to me. They have long since forsaken me and my methods. And besides, I don't deal with the mortal realm and their petty qualms about capturing oddly shaped relics from an age long lost to the annals of time."
"As the Jeffersonian, I feel you're obliged to know that they're voting to borrow one of your features from your patented battle arena."
"Oh? I'm listening."
So there, I laid out the proposal. There was an issue with an arena, one where a stalemate could occur. It wasn't an easy thing to pull off, but it was an even harder situation to break. The Jeffersonian, last of his noble race, had access to ancient and semi-forbidden technologies. One was a transient shapeshifting technology, reknown to turn even the most hardened of Battle Marine steel to any sort of material, including, but not limited to, raw fires or toxic sludge. It was a brilliant plan, but one that was risky to pull off without a plan B. So, the Jeffersonian, in his infinite wisdom, opted for a simple theft of all objects in the battle arena that could hamper a counterattack to the capture of a relic. It was a flawless plan, as deemed by the Jeffersonian.
One Week Later
My travels to the Halls of Judgement yielded only a video capsule to show for my efforts. The head of the Council sent his emotionless proxy known only as "HatNub" to deliver the holographic news. Business as usual then. The Council head rarely ever shows himself personally, preferring to use his robotic companions to deliver final verdicts.
The Jeffersonian was waiting for the news.
"Have you any news of the council?" he questioned.
"Only this," and I handed him the capsule.
He quickly inserted it into a hologram player. An image that was glaring with reflected light from an overly polished scalp. An impressive feat, since the sun had already started to undergo heat death. I was somewhat taken aback, since almost no one had even seen the face of the Head Judge. He was grinning in an almost infuriating manner, dripping with venomous disrespect.
"Yo, ya fuckin jabroni! I hear people still had a glancing thought about ya, so here's what I'm gonna do about this. Ya see that idea you had, I thought about it, and then I decided that all yer ideas are shit, and we're just gonna scrap the arena altogether! I gotta hand it to ya, Kistus, yer lava floors idea made us laugh like hell. Peace out, homes. Maybe ya can be relevant some other time! Enjoy the care package included."
The hologram dissipated in a cloud of pure Rogainum. At that moment, the Jeffersonian caught what could only be described as ebola and powerful schizophrenia, as he started to bleed from the eyes and eat his own fecal matter. Such an attack means little to the battle-hardened immortals of the Arenas like us, but the insult will still sting as he resurrects. I shook my head as I realized the quibbling tribesmens' whines and cries have just overturned decades of established commandments. Without a glance backwards, I put my cloak back on and set off for the Arenas. The Judgement of the head of the councils was unquestionable. The tribes will have their wish. For now.
Chaos was erupting in the hallowed Halls of Judgement. For years upon countless years, men tested their mettle against each other in sprawling battlegrounds dedicated to the most primal of instincts, War. War has and always will prevail in humanity, so the original Judges felt it was prudent to funnel such urges onto a set of fields where people could either fight each other or an ancient species that once threatened humanity. However, one tribe had found a way to almost cheat the system, a system which has been in place for a long time. Such a transgression, while known to the other tribes as a possibility, had riled the councils and the battleground was voted to become disposed of in a manner befitting the wild chapodecima jaroslavus. I took it upon myself to visit one of the ancients to find a solution.
In his office were aging relics from a time almost forgotten. I circled around the room for awhile, before the host entered. He was decorated with the skulls of the fallen, all those whom he bested in battle. Of course, this world, you could live forever, and if you were slain, then you'd just come back. Some sort of alien technology, I reasoned. However, the skulls were of those who had great skill, but none were greater. Except one, but he now lives on an island retreat, having sex with the locals whom considered him a demigod owing to his 3 arms. The potent one, he was called. But no matter.
"Why have you entered my office without an appointment? I do not take kindly to disturbances of this nature. Speak, and speak quickly, for I have little patience for those who unearth me from my slumber," he declared.
"There's a problem with one of the latest battle arenas," I established.
"That matters not to me. They have long since forsaken me and my methods. And besides, I don't deal with the mortal realm and their petty qualms about capturing oddly shaped relics from an age long lost to the annals of time."
"As the Jeffersonian, I feel you're obliged to know that they're voting to borrow one of your features from your patented battle arena."
"Oh? I'm listening."
So there, I laid out the proposal. There was an issue with an arena, one where a stalemate could occur. It wasn't an easy thing to pull off, but it was an even harder situation to break. The Jeffersonian, last of his noble race, had access to ancient and semi-forbidden technologies. One was a transient shapeshifting technology, reknown to turn even the most hardened of Battle Marine steel to any sort of material, including, but not limited to, raw fires or toxic sludge. It was a brilliant plan, but one that was risky to pull off without a plan B. So, the Jeffersonian, in his infinite wisdom, opted for a simple theft of all objects in the battle arena that could hamper a counterattack to the capture of a relic. It was a flawless plan, as deemed by the Jeffersonian.
One Week Later
My travels to the Halls of Judgement yielded only a video capsule to show for my efforts. The head of the Council sent his emotionless proxy known only as "HatNub" to deliver the holographic news. Business as usual then. The Council head rarely ever shows himself personally, preferring to use his robotic companions to deliver final verdicts.
The Jeffersonian was waiting for the news.
"Have you any news of the council?" he questioned.
"Only this," and I handed him the capsule.
He quickly inserted it into a hologram player. An image that was glaring with reflected light from an overly polished scalp. An impressive feat, since the sun had already started to undergo heat death. I was somewhat taken aback, since almost no one had even seen the face of the Head Judge. He was grinning in an almost infuriating manner, dripping with venomous disrespect.
"Yo, ya fuckin jabroni! I hear people still had a glancing thought about ya, so here's what I'm gonna do about this. Ya see that idea you had, I thought about it, and then I decided that all yer ideas are shit, and we're just gonna scrap the arena altogether! I gotta hand it to ya, Kistus, yer lava floors idea made us laugh like hell. Peace out, homes. Maybe ya can be relevant some other time! Enjoy the care package included."
The hologram dissipated in a cloud of pure Rogainum. At that moment, the Jeffersonian caught what could only be described as ebola and powerful schizophrenia, as he started to bleed from the eyes and eat his own fecal matter. Such an attack means little to the battle-hardened immortals of the Arenas like us, but the insult will still sting as he resurrects. I shook my head as I realized the quibbling tribesmens' whines and cries have just overturned decades of established commandments. Without a glance backwards, I put my cloak back on and set off for the Arenas. The Judgement of the head of the councils was unquestionable. The tribes will have their wish. For now.
48
DoomLeague.org News / Re: ATTN: Week 2 Map Change
« on: February 03, 2015, 11:10:57 PM »
after testing, that stupid fucking gimmick is shitty but can also be handled with some coordination
rescind your votes unless you're just completely brainless
edit: since i may need to explain my reasoning, here's how you can handle the dumbfuck tele camp gimmick:
1) grab enemy flag to ensure they do not capture it
2) find a safe place to use rockets to suicide
3) 3 man rush them quickly, with steady aim you'll be able to take out the flag carrier, or grab rockets and just spam them to death. grab armors always
4) recover flag before it automatically returns
its not going to be easy to deal with, but this is the fucking wdl. shape the fuck up
rescind your votes unless you're just completely brainless
edit: since i may need to explain my reasoning, here's how you can handle the dumbfuck tele camp gimmick:
1) grab enemy flag to ensure they do not capture it
2) find a safe place to use rockets to suicide
3) 3 man rush them quickly, with steady aim you'll be able to take out the flag carrier, or grab rockets and just spam them to death. grab armors always
4) recover flag before it automatically returns
its not going to be easy to deal with, but this is the fucking wdl. shape the fuck up
49
DoomLeague.org News / Re: ATTN: Week 2 Map Change
« on: February 03, 2015, 09:47:47 PM »
what a joke
dont change a map, ESPECIALLY NOT MIDSEASON
everyone has played this map and knows how to work it
map20 has a similar exploit that can occur (slime sneaky path, just rocket people down before they can even get to you), but that can be done with a single person
dont change a map, ESPECIALLY NOT MIDSEASON
everyone has played this map and knows how to work it
map20 has a similar exploit that can occur (slime sneaky path, just rocket people down before they can even get to you), but that can be done with a single person
50
WDL Winter 2015 / Re: Week 1 - Map20 ZDECTF2-01 [Jan 26 - Feb 1] Discussion
« on: January 31, 2015, 07:14:02 PM »
GPS teamspeak during most of the match
51
WDL Winter 2015 / Re: Winter 2015 Draft and Season predictions
« on: January 20, 2015, 10:54:53 AM »
why do people think i hate anyone on the internet
zakken might be a dingus but i dont really give a shit
whoever picks me up i will play video games for
zakken might be a dingus but i dont really give a shit
whoever picks me up i will play video games for
52
WDL Winter 2015 / Re: WDL Winter 2015 Signups
« on: January 03, 2015, 02:15:46 PM »
name: legion
place: usa
contact: conan the barbarian fanfiction subreddits
regular availablity: we'll see
place: usa
contact: conan the barbarian fanfiction subreddits
regular availablity: we'll see
58
WDL Summer 2014 / Re: Week 1 - Map07 ZDCTF07 (Jul 7 - Jul 13) Predictions
« on: July 11, 2014, 04:57:17 PM »
"They Called It Map07"
I died.
It's not like it was a huge surprise, I lived and breathed the life of a video gamer. Weighing in at over 300 pounds, my heart gave out when I was 32. Heart disease, my doctor warned. But who thinks they will die at 30? What a huge mistake. I believed that I could be the best at a video game, but I ended up being a low elo scrub who couldn't even gank my lanes, or shoot people without twitching my aim 90 degrees to the side. But I had a fun time doing it.
But now, I'm dead. I appear to be in a room of some sort, in a line. No big deal, I've always wanted to see the other side. I try to ask the person in front of me what's going on, but he doesn't answer. It's as though everyone is in some kind of trance. I look to the person behind me, but nothing is there.
The wait is eternally long, and I am not using that term lightly, considering the circumstances. But now, the wait is over, and I finally get to learn what happens.
I talk with a man in a white suit, who is not wearing any shoes.
"Hello. It's time for your judgement," he said.
"O-ok," I answer, scared and nervous.
"You have lived a life of nothing worth noting. You have two options. One, you may choose to do penance, cleansing yourself of your sins and earning an eternal trip to paradise," he said, unfaltering.
"A-a-and the other choice?" I managed to stammer out.
"You may go directly to hell, living there for a 1000 years of life and torment, or until a time can be determined that a re-judgement may be issued."
"What's the penance going to be like?" after considering for a while.
"It will be a short, but intensely unpleasant experience to give you clarity. It will be of an activity you already know, but from a new perspective."
"I'll take it," saying it with as much courage as I could muster.
"Are you sure? It will be extremely frustrating."
"Yes."
I then woke up in a room with a single computer, and a chair. There was no note, no obvious sign telling me what to do, so I just did what comes naturally. I turned on the computer, and immediately, I was bombarded with a chat box. It appeared to be IRC. While highly obsolete, I decided to roll with the punches and check it out. Suddenly, I was being asked by a person named "Smakken" to practice with a team. Sighing with relief, I said yes, and joined the server.
This is where everything went horribly wrong.
Hitting the accept button brought me to an odd game, the likes of which I hadn't seen in a long time. My team joined the red side. It was a game of Capture the Flag! I knew this game! I told myself it would be no problem, and I started setting positions for the team. I told Smakken to play defense, and my other teammate named "ZdeZoom" to play middle, while I ran to capture their flags. Seemed simple enough.
However, after grabbing an armor pickup, and running to the middle, I was gunned down by two people. I shot at them, but my shot appeared to actually go through them. Whenever I hit them from the same distance, I only saw one pellet hit from my shotgun.
That's ok, I thought. Better luck next life! So I ran to the middle again, and actually made it in their base. I quickly and expertly ran through a player's bodyblock and put a good number of walls between us, but it wasn't enough. I tasted the bitterness of defeat again, but I gritted my teeth, and kept at it.
But it just went on. Shot at once and immediately killed from a distance that seemed infeasible for a sawn-off shotgun.
And on. Ran straight into someone in the only choke that accesses the enemy base, and died with the armor pickup.
And on.
For eternity.
But then, eternity ended.
Or, so it seemed. What actually ended up happening was a teamchat after the game, where Smakken said "Good job team, they didn't score any!"
I told him that we didn't score any either, but he just shrugged it off with a simple "Better luck next time!"
Then, suddenly, a new game started, and I was delegated to play the same position. Again, the same issues plagued the team. But the length of the game got longer.
And the next game got longer.
I finally learned what I had really chosen.
I had chosen the true torture, the penultimate torment.
Because hell eventually would have ended.
This didn't
god save me
I died.
It's not like it was a huge surprise, I lived and breathed the life of a video gamer. Weighing in at over 300 pounds, my heart gave out when I was 32. Heart disease, my doctor warned. But who thinks they will die at 30? What a huge mistake. I believed that I could be the best at a video game, but I ended up being a low elo scrub who couldn't even gank my lanes, or shoot people without twitching my aim 90 degrees to the side. But I had a fun time doing it.
But now, I'm dead. I appear to be in a room of some sort, in a line. No big deal, I've always wanted to see the other side. I try to ask the person in front of me what's going on, but he doesn't answer. It's as though everyone is in some kind of trance. I look to the person behind me, but nothing is there.
The wait is eternally long, and I am not using that term lightly, considering the circumstances. But now, the wait is over, and I finally get to learn what happens.
I talk with a man in a white suit, who is not wearing any shoes.
"Hello. It's time for your judgement," he said.
"O-ok," I answer, scared and nervous.
"You have lived a life of nothing worth noting. You have two options. One, you may choose to do penance, cleansing yourself of your sins and earning an eternal trip to paradise," he said, unfaltering.
"A-a-and the other choice?" I managed to stammer out.
"You may go directly to hell, living there for a 1000 years of life and torment, or until a time can be determined that a re-judgement may be issued."
"What's the penance going to be like?" after considering for a while.
"It will be a short, but intensely unpleasant experience to give you clarity. It will be of an activity you already know, but from a new perspective."
"I'll take it," saying it with as much courage as I could muster.
"Are you sure? It will be extremely frustrating."
"Yes."
I then woke up in a room with a single computer, and a chair. There was no note, no obvious sign telling me what to do, so I just did what comes naturally. I turned on the computer, and immediately, I was bombarded with a chat box. It appeared to be IRC. While highly obsolete, I decided to roll with the punches and check it out. Suddenly, I was being asked by a person named "Smakken" to practice with a team. Sighing with relief, I said yes, and joined the server.
This is where everything went horribly wrong.
Hitting the accept button brought me to an odd game, the likes of which I hadn't seen in a long time. My team joined the red side. It was a game of Capture the Flag! I knew this game! I told myself it would be no problem, and I started setting positions for the team. I told Smakken to play defense, and my other teammate named "ZdeZoom" to play middle, while I ran to capture their flags. Seemed simple enough.
However, after grabbing an armor pickup, and running to the middle, I was gunned down by two people. I shot at them, but my shot appeared to actually go through them. Whenever I hit them from the same distance, I only saw one pellet hit from my shotgun.
That's ok, I thought. Better luck next life! So I ran to the middle again, and actually made it in their base. I quickly and expertly ran through a player's bodyblock and put a good number of walls between us, but it wasn't enough. I tasted the bitterness of defeat again, but I gritted my teeth, and kept at it.
But it just went on. Shot at once and immediately killed from a distance that seemed infeasible for a sawn-off shotgun.
And on. Ran straight into someone in the only choke that accesses the enemy base, and died with the armor pickup.
And on.
For eternity.
But then, eternity ended.
Or, so it seemed. What actually ended up happening was a teamchat after the game, where Smakken said "Good job team, they didn't score any!"
I told him that we didn't score any either, but he just shrugged it off with a simple "Better luck next time!"
Then, suddenly, a new game started, and I was delegated to play the same position. Again, the same issues plagued the team. But the length of the game got longer.
And the next game got longer.
I finally learned what I had really chosen.
I had chosen the true torture, the penultimate torment.
Because hell eventually would have ended.
This didn't
god save me
59
WDL Summer 2014 / Re: Week 1 - Map07 ZDCTF07 (Jul 7 - Jul 13) Predictions
« on: July 11, 2014, 03:23:29 PM »
whoever picked this map can go fuck themselves
seriously
seriously
60
WDL Summer 2014 / Re: WDL Summer 2014 Sign-ups
« on: June 16, 2014, 04:02:08 AM »
legion
us
irc
upon request/prior notice
us
irc
upon request/prior notice