Baby_Drop_Kick, The Reader

Member Since

3/26/2018

Last Activity

7/8/2019 11:25 AM

EXP Points

60

Post Count

9

Storygame Count

0

Duel Stats

0 wins / 0 losses

Order

Architect

Commendations

0

Permanent Profile Info

Born 2002 so work out my age ya dumb (insert appropriate insult). Live in New Zealand, to Hobbit town AWAY!!! Reading and writing is kinda sorta maybe pretty meh. I actually have a social life so I’ll be on once a week-year. My sexuality is oppressive apparently *cough* CoG *cough*. Upon Gods Holy Purifying Fire, the grand finale! I can’t add a photo as I’m rich enough for an iPad Pro but not for a laptop... or I’m just an idiot.

Profile Update (Basically Shit posting Whatever I feel like):

After two years of exile from this site I’m back! Well, back for maybe an hour or so. Nothing to report about my life, with one exception. Fuck Steve. I’m like a dwarf or a feminist who know how to use the internet, I can hold a grudge. So once more, Steve can die in a hole of obscurity with me and we can slowly starve to death.

Love BDK

Recent Posts

BDK’s Mental Retardation on 7/8/2019 11:25:43 AM

Hello Everyone! 

BabyDropKick here. After my two year long, self imposed exile, I have come to the forum to say one thing.

 

Fuck you Steve.

That is all, carry on with your lives.

 

Love BDK


My Creative Writing piece on 3/28/2018 12:58:11 AM

Since I recently just typed to another reply that’s very long, This reply will be shorter. Thank you for your criticisms, personally I find them very helpful. I’ll try to put the technics in my future work although I’ll probably slip up at times.

Again thank you for your time.


My Creative Writing piece on 3/28/2018 12:49:38 AM

 

First off, I have read your whole reply and accept some of your criticisms such spelling errors, grammar and punctuation and others (but be mindful that I didn’t copy paste as my actual work was done by hand). First off this is a creative writing piece so it doesn’t have to follow a character arc or plot line. I know a story should have conflict or something to resolve but the guide lines set were that the creative writing piece has to at least have 300 words but no more than 600 (teachers have life’s apparently) so it would have been difficult to add, so I did pretty much make a backstory. In this story it is merely describing a 1800’s, Victorian England, coal working boy. 

 We can agree that the kid has a crappy life, that the crappy story is your personal opinion (that you have a right to have) and that the story is set in the 1800’s, England. 

Thank you for your opinion and criticisms (some of which I will take into consideration in the future) and thank you for taking the time to read my creative writing piece.

I have edited this down a lot as my first reply came off as whiny.


My Creative Writing piece on 3/27/2018 5:48:05 AM

Yeah New Zealand English standards are pretty high during high school. Almost everyone gets not achieved or achieved first try. This is actually my first resubmission, about a high merit or low excellence. The story is a bit wordy for my taste but my first try had wayyy to many “I”s in them for sentence starters.


Your Superpower of Choice? on 3/27/2018 4:50:03 AM

Everyone thinks so big with their super power. Personally I’d go for a ease of life super power. The power of a microwave! But not just any microwave (this is the actual power) the ability to turn food into their ideal state! Imagine a rotten, moldy banana *BANG* a perfect yellow banana. Soggy leftover lasagne *BANG* a freshly cook lasagne. A heap of random ingredients *BANG* a delicious Caesar salad. And if we take a superhero world, no one would want to fight me! Would you want to fight a person who can serve you delicious food at the drop of a hat? I think not.


My Creative Writing piece on 3/27/2018 4:40:29 AM

Suggested by Mayana to give writing a short story a shot, here is my English internal exam creative writing. About 450 words.

I keep my head low as possible, tucked cozily  into my tattered coat. Taking a few quick steps down the cracked, moss filled brick stairs. Darkness surrounds me with a few streaks of light piercing the smog overhead.

Turning to walk down the street, sighing as I pass stores and vendors. Planting my hands against the freezing store windows to see the new items. There is one item that always catches my eye. A gorgeous mahogany yoyo; waxed and polished to a mirror shine. It would’ve been a great 8th birthday gift.

Suddenly, The great chimes of Big Ben ring through the air and its happy melody makes the day a little brighter. A little merrier, I jaunt down familiar and comforting streets. There’s one street in particular that mummy stays at night. She talks to different men and they’ll usually enter an inn nearby. Later finding out that “The Red Light” inn was a place for unsavoury acts. It explained why Mummy was a barbie doll when she leaves and a ragged dog when she’s home. Sometime black and blue sores cover her body but she always has a few pounds after.

The soft thump of my boots against the cobblestone, lost in thought. 

“CRUNCH!” Broken away, I cast my eyes at the ground, to see a poster. Tentatively lifting the poster, sounding out the word “S-serve your Nation, Serve the Empire!”. A proud lion gazes, standing upon a rock. Tears well in my eyes, as my face boils red.

 

Fathers face flashes in my mind. Waving on top of a boat. The façade of a smile disguising the worry and dread emanating from his eyes. I could see it. Never returning from his grand adventure, his valiant quest on to the unknown continent of Africa. Struck down by some filthy savages. I wipe away the tears that flow down my face.

 

Returning to my walk, starting to whistle a tune. A lullaby that I sang to my sister. That was before the sickness that corrupted her, before it stole her innocents, before it destroyed my beloved sister: Polio is what stole and changed her. I would do anything to see her smile again.

 

I puff out an enormous sigh; a white cloud streams out. Slowing my walk to a crawl arriving at my destination. No matter how many times I see the great foundries that spew black mist, I’m stunned by the sheer magnitude of them. A lone familiar harsh voice cries out “Thomas your late! Hurry up and grab your pick!”.

Lifting a pick that leans on a wall and diving into the abyss of the coal mine. With all it entails the blisters on my hands, the aching pain in my back, the burning coughs it causes but it affects me not. For I have felt a worse pain. The loss of a happy caring father, who loved his country greatly. Knowledge that your mother would trade her body to save your own. Finally a sister that you played with, laughed with, whose heart will never grow. This is my life, a life all too common for me and many; many others.

So yep this is it. Give your thoughts and any advice.


G’day on 3/26/2018 2:52:33 PM

Thanks for your encouragement.

However, as my recent English reports say “Great potential, but lacks execution”. Plus the scripting is another beast to face, probably learn it during the holidays... maybe.


G’day on 3/26/2018 2:49:41 PM

Thanks, I’ll probably write a review during the weekend, when I’m bored out of my mind. Where I would rather instantaneously combust than wait any longer.

My experience with CoG is interesting, as I’ve read about 80% of Hosted and Choice of games but omg the forum is the most “Tolerant” site! A bastion of “Freedom” of sexuality (but ideas and speech? Oh no, what do you think this is? Western culture?). All in all, I’ll explain if asked.


G’day on 3/26/2018 8:25:06 AM

Yep I have no idea what to write. Just saw everyone else do this so might as well be a sheep and follow along. Came across this site, thought it was pretty good, decided to make an account. Not going to make any story games as I’m still in High School so I still have a lot to learn about writing/scripting. That’s about it, cheerio love.