Recent posts by Precarious on Kongregate

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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

Ruby Weapon.

 
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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

Hotels.com

 
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Topic: Forum Games / CURSIVE - Final vote: 7/24, 4 PM, UTC+3

[Grab Bag: Letter / Horror / Collusion]

********

(The following letter was recovered from an old cabin deep in the mountains. Its authenticity has not yet been verified, but there are no preliminary markers to suggest that it is a hoax.)

To Whom It May Concern,

I don't have much time left now. They are coming for me, as they have always been. You, Reader, whoever you are: with you I will share my final thoughts, my last moments in this place. For you I will bear all my soul, my hopes, my fears, my dreams. It is not long now, and this is all I have left. I've been alone for so long, scared for so long, that even in the face of death and more than death these words are cathartic. In these words, in this communication, I am reminded at last of my humanity, our humanity, of our disparate goals and dreams, our species' drive to make ourselves more and better than we have any right to be. And in this place of Darkness, as the end approaches, I thank you for reading these words, these words that are all that is left of me.

Some friends of friends had invited me on a camping trip to a cabin deep in the mountains, an hour's drive or more from even the smallest, most isolated berg. The road was rough and bumpy and unpaved, with dips and ruts and holes and loose gravel that forced Steve's car to the breaking point. It was dark by the time we approached the cabin, a deep, melancholy darkness that built up the lightless woods around is into a kind of monster. That total blackness was accompanied by nothing but the incessant chirping symphony of the crickets, scratching at the night; and the periodic sad whoooos of nearby owls, drifting by unseen on silent wings. Steve, Jen, and I entered into the cabin, the old floorboards creaking loudly. We lit a lantern, and conversed by that meager light, subdued by the weight of the woods and the night into near silence. I had just lit another candle when Jen suddenly groaned. She hadn't been feeling well lately, Steve told me; he'd take her into town, make sure everything was okay, and they'd return tomorrow. They were out the door in a minute, and then I was alone, alone with my lantern and my candles and the wavering candleflame, writhing as its own combustion slowly rent its fiery soul apart.

I stared unthinking at the candle for a long time, wathcing the wax slowly melt into shapelessness. I'm not sure when I first noticed the lights, flaring through the window. They were pale red and blue and green, so pale as to be almost white; they moved irregularly, tracing slow circles then darting suddenly. I stood up from the threadworn old couch, and gazed out the window. There were bright lights in the sky, dancing about, slashing suddenly from one horizon to the other. The chorus of the crickets seemed to have fallen away; in its place, there was a distant, almost inaudible hum that thrilled through me. The air was suddenly very heavy, almost tingling. My throat had become very dry, and my chest tight; I swallowed with some difficulty, then looked back up at the lights. They had come to a stop, hovering bright over the lake, lights on the black water. Overcome with sudden dread, I backed away from the window, away from the lights, and blew out my flames. Now there was nothing: just me, and the darkness, and the pale light streaming ghostlike through the window. I watched the window apprehensively for a time, finally the lights went away, and there was nothing but darkness. I fell asleep on the old couch.

I awoke the next day to the questioning chirp and whistle of birdsong. The sun had returned, Steve and Jen weren't back yet, so I passed the time by exploring the cabin. Cabin might not have been the best word; despite the lack of electricity, it was decently well appointed, or at least it had been once upon a time. There was some ornamentation to its design on the outside, and there were a number of rooms on the inside. The den boasted several leather chairs in addition to the couch, as well as a table and a large stone fireplace, surmounted by the head of a deer. Along the back was a faded painting of the lake, quiet and still and surrounded by pines. There were four bedrooms, as well as a crude kitchen and pantry, and a separate dining room. There was another sitting room as well, a bit dilapidated, but boasting two shelves loaded with books, and an old typewriter at a desk. Outside was an old well and a broken down old shed that seemed to remain standing for no better reason than it always had. None of this was especially unexpected, but the strange tracks in the dirt were. They were large and irregularly shaped; they did not resemble the prints of any of the usual forest animals. Suddenly the air seemed heavy again, and the distant sounds in the pine trees ominous, sinister. There too was a strange stone structure, seemingly blackened by fire. Perhaps it was part of a grill or cookfire once upon a time, but...there was something wrong about it. The charring seemed deep, thick, as though the stone had drunk in the blackness. Uneasy, I walked back into the cabin, and resumed my wait.

Steve and Jen did not return that day. I claimed one of the vacant bedrooms as my own, gathered the thick quilts around me, and tried to fall asleep. Sleep did not come. I cracked open my eye, glancing at the shuttered window. No strange light seeped through the cracks; I took that as a good sign. But then I heard the howling. There had been wolves in these mountains, long ago; yet the species had supposedly been hunted to extinction in the region. Still, the howls rose up all around me, echoing throughout the starless night. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and pulled my blankets against me more tightly. The howling seemed to gradually draw closer, until it was all around the cabin, loud and frequent. After that, it slowly faded away, but it still took a long time before I drifted off.

The next morning, Steve and Jen still hadn't returned. I saw no other option; I was alone here, without any real way to communicate; my phone hadn't had any reception since we left that little town, and I had no way to charge it here. And for all I knew, something had happened on the way back in, or perhaps Jen was really sick. It was early enough that if I started in now, I'd reach town with plenty of time left in the day. I gathered some of my supplies and placed them in my backpack; I tied up my boots and began hiking back into town.

The road was as bad as I remembered it being on the way in, and soon I sweating fairly heavily. I slowed for a moment to wipe my brow with a handkerchief. I estimated that I had walked about two miles so far. I glanced down at the lake, placid and smooth in the basin below. The sun was out, and things seemed better.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a slight movement about a hundred yards back in the woods. I turned to look more directly, and saw nothing. Yet as I continued to walk, I continued catching snatches of movement, flickers that died away as soon as I turned to look more carefully. And then, it seemed that that slight hum from the first night, the one accompanying the strange lights that washed out the crickets, was about me again. I began to walk faster, and then, there before me, stood the cabin. I knew there was no way I could have gotten turned around; I had only ever walked in one direction, and had been careful to pay attention to landmarks. Plus, I had been following the road. But the hum seemed to be getting louder. And in the distance, I thought I heard a howl. With no better options, I entered back into the cabin, and bolted the door.

I immediately felt better. Yet as soon as I moved to unlatch the door, a sudden wave of nausea came over me. At last I stepped away, and prepared a small lunch in the kitchen. I then moved to the old study; with nothing better to do, I thought I'd flip through some of the old books.

What I found was strange. Some of the books appeared to contain handwritten records of God knows what: numbers and codes scratched down incomprehensibly into narrow columns. The last entry was dated more than 30 years ago. Other books were written in strange languages, one seemed vaguely Eastern European, another Latin, and another had markings that seemed akin to ancient hieroglyphics. Others were totally incomprehensible, strange loopy symbols that resembled nothing I had ever seen. Some of these books were annotated with various notes in the margins, but these notes were even more incomprehensible than the books themselves.

And then I came across a thin, leatherbound tome. I cracked it open, and there on the first page, was what appeared to be a personal note. In an old script, it read:

I am sorry. If you are reading this, whoever you may be, I am sorry. This is their work, and you shall come to understand it better with time. All of us, they made us help them, and now you are here. They made us help them.

I am sorry.


I stared at the note. The air again seemed strangely heavy, charged. Caught in the space between anger and terror, I rammed the book back into the shelf.

And pulled closed the shutters about every window, and bolted every door, and sealed every way into the cabin.

And waited for night.

This time there were scratching noises all about the house, rattling steely hisses that seemed to slide off the walls. These scratches continued for maybe twenty minutes as I lay motionless under my covers, refusing to look out and praying silently under my breath.

I again tried to walk into town the next morning, but this time, I only walked a mile before the cabin reappeared. I decided to examine the grounds more carefully; I walked down to the lake shore, stared out over the surprisingly peaceful waters. The lake was so smooth and still that it seemed a mirror, reflecting back the woods and mountains all about it. I walked back up the hill toward the cabin, and noted the strange stone structure again. I looked at it more closely. At the distance, it vaguely resembled an altar. I shuddered.

The black that had worn its way into the stone had seemed to have the stench of old blood.

I noticed there was a strange diagram on the altar. As I approached, I looked down into the cracks, and saw slight movement. A pulsating, bulbous black mass, undulating just out of reach, swelling thick and then decompressing. I stumbled back. I returned to the cabin, locked it up tight again.

There were lights again that evening, pale beams that shone through the cracks underneath the doors, and through the boarded windows. And the howling was back, proclaiming itself to the night.

Each day thereafter, I tried to follow the road back into town. And each day, it took less time before I found myself staring at the cabin again. My nights were filled with fear as strange sounds and smells gathered about the cabin, rasping and gasping and gaping as they circumnavigated my bulwark against the dark. As the weeks passed, my supplies ran out, and I turned to the dehydrated meals in Steve's and Jen's bags. It was while I was searching through Steve's stuff one day that I found his wallet; it seemed strange to me that he hadn't taken it with him. The usual stuff was there: credit cards, a driver's license, some badly worn dollar bills, faded and wrinkled. And a note.

I took out the note, unfolded it, and read

I'm sorry, [REDACTED]. They made me do it. They make everyone do it. All works against you now. The day, the night, the sun and moon and stars. All conspire against you. Even me. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

My lips felt dry. I dashed outside, tried to run up the road...and crashed directly into an invisible wall. There was no visible indication that anything was there, but the barrier seemed impassable and indestructible. I returned, dismayed to the house.

In the months that followed, it seemed harder and harder to leave the cabin. I should have run out of food long ago, yet there always seemed to be a little more. I took to writing in the study, recording my fears, my dreams, my memories, like the time when [REDACTED] took me to [REDACTED], as a child, and the bright lights shone through the darkness, and she held my hand and told me it would be okay. And when in the soft snow outside [REDACTED], they held me in their arms and told me they loved me, that they would always love me. Forever.

It was last night that they finally got inside. I heard, saw the bolt on the door coming undone. I knew it was time. And then I saw, for the first time, a hidden latch in the den. I pulled it open, found a secret basement under the house. I quickly pulled the trapdoor shut, and locked it tight. I stood their in the musty smelling darkness, totally silent, totally still. I heard dragging, heavy footsteps above, heard a strange moaning, heard distant howls. There was the sudden, sickening stench of rotting flesh. Sick with fear, I stood motionless, until finally the sounds and smells moved away.

This morning, the cabin was surrounded by fog. I cannot even leave the structure; the invisible barrier is at the door. The books in the study are no longer alien; they all read the same now. We did it, they read. We brought you here. We built the cabin. The town. We made the woods, and they made the lake, and the stars, and the sky. They made us do it. They made us. And we're sorry.

When I was a child, they took me to the doctor once, with a terrible, burning fever. Doctor [REDACTED] held me up, took my temperature, told them to keep me safe. I tossed and turned in my bed that night, sweating. And [REDACTED] told me that [REDACTED], and that that would never change.

When I was in high school, I met [REDACTED], and I loved her, and she loved me. I'll never forget you, [REDACTED], she said, and she kissed me, and all seemed right in the world. And then she moved away, to a far off city, and the world was a little sadder and grayer than before. It seemed to rain every day, a steady gray rain that sapped the streets of color, and made them soft and slick and blurred. The cars sped by, all but invisible in the rain, leaving only the red glowing ghosts of their lights, fleeing into the blur.

I wanted to see the world. I wanted to visit London, Paris, Rome. Someday, I said, someday I will see [REDACTED] in the cathedral, and bear my soul. And someday I'll see [REDACTED] again, and kiss her again, and all will be as it was meant to be.

The lights have returned, bouncing off the fog, illuminating the smoky haze in pink and light blue, and a pale, sickly, deathly green. There are sounds in that fog, sounds that should not be, sounds that echo ever closer, ever closer.

I don't have much time left. I want to tell you the things that matter, the things about you, the things about me, the things about all of us. I want to tell you about how I laughed as a child, how the grass seemed so green, and the sky so blue, how every cloud was a castle and a dragon, how I sailed a toy sailboat on the pond, how sweet the candy was, how glorious the Christmas tree, how beautiful the fireworks. I want you to know, even if I don't. Because I don't remember [REDACTED] anymore, or [REDACTED]. To tell you the truth, I don't even remember my own name. It's been a year and more since I came to this place, and they have finally come for me. All of them. In no way do I apologize for this letter. I am not them, and will not be them, and will never be. I want to believe that we are more than that, that those that collude against what we strive to be and dream of and search for will never vanquish us. I want you to know, Reader, that I love you. I love you and I thank you for being human, for being you, for reading this letter, for being here with me at the end. They are here, the lights are at the door, the howling is in the house, the shuffling on the stairs. They are here. But as long as you read this, I am not alone.

Goodbye.
 
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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

Do you have a map? I’m getting lost in your eyes.

 
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Topic: Forum Games / Chat Games Thread

Impromtu: The Wild Card

Winner: BestMte

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

Finally, the finals draw to a close, and what a finale it was! After a titanic duel, only one player remains standing.

By a score of 2-1,

ActiveUnique is our champion!


Congratulations AU; you’ve provided us with some incredible performances throughout the tournament, as well as some incredible art; at last, you get to cut down the nets. Congratulations also to our runner up, Ben_B, a multiple-times champion who has been as phenomenal as ever throughout the tournament and will no doubt win again in the future.

It was an especially close final round, with AU and Ben splitting W&S and Sierra, and Rogue Soul ultimately being decided by a score of 3-2. How dominant were these performances? Check the All-Time lists for William and Sly or (Rogue Soul) Treasures Hunt for an idea.

For winning the tournament, ActiveUnique will be taking home 100 Kong points (thanks to IAmTheCandyman and Kongregate for making this possible!). Ben will receive 75 points for his efforts. Our two other semifinalists, Machu and Nuck will receive 50 and 40 points respectively for their fantastic work throughout the tournament. Lastly, Wishie will be receiving 20 points for beating the odds and winning the #1 Draft Pick event.

I’ll leave this open for a couple days for comments from our competitors and observers; feel free to let me know all the things I did wrong! I’ll have a longer wrap-up post to discuss various things about the tournament. For now, once again congrats to AU; hope everyone had a good time!

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

And the finals draw to a close. Congratulations ActiveUnique!

Wrap up coming in a bit.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

One hour to go!

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

Just a reminder to the two of you that there’s a little less than nine hours remaining. Good luck guys.

 
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Topic: Forum Games / CURSIVE - Final vote: 7/24, 4 PM, UTC+3

Still Running

a sequel to LethalMutiny’s Stand Up And Run



I awoke to a cracking retort, the echoing bang of a car backfiring. Wrenched from my slumber, in that sudden blurry borderland between waking and dreaming, I thought it was gunfire. “Is it 0600 already?” I quietly whispered to myself.

My mouth tasted foul, rancid. My head throbbed. I shifted uncomfortably on my ratty, tattered bed, and cautiously opened my eyes. I immediately clenched them shut; the sunlight lancing through the blinds was achingly bright, piercing. Like shrapnel. I buried my head in my pillow for a moment, groped blindly for my bunkmate sleeping on the floor. I felt the bottle, that familiar foggy glass, cool to the touch, sloshing with a cloudy, bitter-tasting amber liquid. I sat up with my last, best friend, and took a long drink.


Those of us who came back from Vietnam came back changed men. There were things we carried back with us: mementos of that benighted place, bullet casings and boots and bandages. We carried back our wounds, limps and scars and the phantom pain of limbs that never learned they were ghosts. But most of all we brought back memories, of what we had lost, cast away, left behind. And so we left behind the innocence of youth, and the friends of youth, and carried back across those silent waters guilt and loneliness.


I was supposed to work today. I had secured an odd job with an auto shop, although that wouldn’t last long. Such jobs never did. A broken down old vet, wrinkled, with trembling hands—there was no need for someone like that. Especially one with alcohol on his breath. And inevitably, I came in drunk, or not at all, and was then informed not to come in again. I bounced from job to job, motel to sleazy motel, adrift with no friends except my bottle. There were, after all, fewer of us now: Anderson’s old war wounds had finally carried him off, O’Houlihan went to sleep one night and never woke up. Monroe’s liver gave out, Joey just disappeared. And Jepson Purcell?

He drove right off a cliff. The newspapers said it was mechanical failure, but I knew better.

My old commander was still at the forefront of my mind as I slowly rose, trembling. I wasn’t going into work today. I wasn’t going anywhere. I walked over to a weathered old dresser, scratched and scuffed. A brother, I thought to myself, almost as battered as me. I opened a drawer, and lifted out a revolver. This wasn’t some keepsake from ’Nam, I had parted with those things long ago. But it would do the job all the same. I loaded a bullet into the chamber, raised the barrel to my temple, and closed my eyes.


I heard another loud bang outside. The Restful Waters Motel was in a bad part of town, it was all I could afford. That dim cacophony of shrieks and shattering glass was hardly new; still, I lowered the gun for a moment. Maybe I wasn’t as ready as I thought. I ran my fingers along the cool steel of the barrel, sensed its solid, insistent weight. I was still lost in thought when I heard a voice intrude into my room, frightened, desperate.

“Help!”

I pulled up the blinds and looked across the street, through an old chain link fence. There, limping—staggering really, his eyes filled with pain and his face twisted with fear—was a young boy. He had clearly been shot in the back of the leg. What he was doing in that part of town, I had no idea—he was dressed too nicely to be from the area, but that hardly mattered. He was so young, young the way we had been before the war, our lives ahead of us. I saw movement in the distance, heard shouts, laughter. The years, the booze, the self-loathing fell away.

The boy needed me. Doug needed me.

I ran out into the morning sun. The young man could run no more, and was dragging himself along in the dirt and grease and glass, tears in his eyes. I loped over, looped around the fence, helped him up. He looked at me, quite startled.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Please, sir,” he stammered. “They’re coming! They…”

“We need to move. Can you walk?”

He tried to put weight on the leg, and collapsed again. I knew what I had to do. I had done it once before. I picked him up on my back and carried him. By God, I carried him.

I took off into that urban jungle, the forests of ’Nam transfigured into low dives and warehouses, rust and corrugated steel and asphalt. The enemy was all about us, as I carried him down one alley and the next. He was heavy; as the adrenaline wore off, my muscles began to ache; I stumbled as we passed through an old industrial park. I had no idea where we were. After several minutes like this, we stopped to rest; my body could do no more. The boy and I huddled together behind an old, burnt out car, blackened by fire and age. We listened.

I could hear our pursuers talking, laughing, drawing closer. My companion was clearly in pain; his face was pale, tears running down his cheeks as he bit his lip to stay silent. His leg looked bad. There was no way he’d be able to escape them on his own. And there they were, four of them, guns out, glee in their eyes. There was only one option.

I stood up, felt my finger against the cold trigger. I pointed the old revolver in the direction of the tallest of the four, and squeezed.

I fired. They did the same.

I felt a sudden shock of pain as the bullets tore into me. I stumbled back, put my hand to my chest and saw it was wet and red and sticky. I gasped, and felt my lungs fill with blood. The world about me became dim, but I willed myself to look up. One of the gangsters lay motionless on the ground, dark blood pooling under him. The other three were running away. I looked down at the young man, a boy really, and saw gratitude. And then I saw no more.


(Two days later, as a young man named Doug Springden convalesced in a hospital room, the local newspaper ran an obituary for an old man named Dennis Fernandez, 64. “Mr. Fernandez was a veteran of Vietnam,” the paper said, “and a hero.”)

 
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Topic: Forum Games / [Competition] Badge Bonanza Day 6: Catch up day

 
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Topic: Forum Games / [Competition] Badge Bonanza Day 6: Catch up day

EDIT: And Maverick as well.

 
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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

Syringe pit.

 
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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

The Canyonero.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

THE NUMBER 1 DRAFT PICK: The Results!

The following ten players were selected, in this order via random number generation on my twitch account. A few of you even got to see and hear it happen!

MyNameIsNothing, Whazashmup, ActiveUnique, qwertyiopazs, Wishie, Kragnir, ShawnerSSS (twice), Holy2334, MachuPichu.

Shawn actually had two chances in the final selection, as his numbers came up on generations 7 and 10.

Each player was assigned a number based on when their number was drawn (MNIN had 1, Whaz had 2, etc.). And our lucky #1 Draft Pick was…

WISHIE! Congratulations, you are the #1 Draft Pick, and will receive 20 points from Kongregate at the conclusion of the tournament.


Thanks to anyone who listened in, and I hope you’ll keep following this thread as ActiveUnique and Ben_B battle it out over these last few days.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

The #1 draft pick about to start at twitch. Good luck everyone!

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

LONGORANGEHAIR 1 (138)
LouWeed 9 (139-147)
MachuPichu 10 (148-157)
mikerspd 10 (158-167)
MyNameIsNothing 3 (168-170)
Nuck_Chorris_ 12 (171-182)
occooa 1 (183)
Pigjr1 6 (184-189)
Pokerpo 3 (190-192)
qwertyuiopazs 7 (193-199)
Ratchet1999 1 (200)
RuroKen 3 (201-203)
SamsterSamster 1 (204)
sddsdd 3 (205-207)
ShawnerSSS 8 (208-215)
SilentSand 5 (216-220)
Thorene 1 (221)
viper11475 1 (222)
Whazashmup 8 (223-230)
WiiPlayer113 6 (231-236)
Wishie 2 (237-238)
x0cELoTx 7 (239-245)
Xavion3 1 (246)
xxerox 3 (247-249)
Yayer 4 (250-253)
zAlbee 8 (254-261)

The first number next to your name is the number of points you earned during the tournament. The number in parentheses is the number you want me to hit with RNG. For example, if the range were 1-9999, and I selected 7000, you would win if your numbers in parentheses were, for example, (6993-7004). The actual range used will be 1-261, inclusive.

I will generate 10 numbers between 1 and 261. The players who have numbers selected will then face off in a final 1-10 RNG—the number selected there will determine the #1 draft pick.


Points were earned the following ways:

Everyone received one point for validly entering the tournament. Everyone who submitted a score in all three qualifier games received a point. My 12 favorite Papa’s Creations (LouWeed, Pokerpo, WiiPlayer113, Bluji, haych2, Blizzard2000, Ben_B, DaddyNZ, qwertyuiopazs, mikerspd, Nuck_Chorris_, ActiveUnique—I think I ended up overemphasizing pizza creations with these 12, but what can you do) received a point. Everyone who submitted a score in all three seeding games received a point. Everyone who earned a 1-seed (Whazashmup, Ben_B, BestMte, ShawnerSSS) received a point.

Every time you beat my personal best in a game, you received a point (up to 14 points for Hippolyta, summit, Vector Conflict, run.don’t.stop, Run 3, Diamond Hollow II, Die in a carpet fire, Snakes on a Cartesian Plane, Coptra, Dino Run : Marathon of Doom, Soap Bubble II, Clarence’s Big Chance, Focus (Original), and Focus (Insane)).

Everyone who made the Final Four received a point. Everyone who correctly answered one of my three challenges (the regional locations, the alternate for Termina, and the Final Four location) earned a point for doing so, up to three total. Ferrish (for his musical suggestion) and ActiveUnique (for his drawing) received a bonus point each for their additional participation.

Obviously, this is weighted in favor of your participation in this tournament, but because these points merely give you a string of numbers, everyone has a chance in the actual RNG. I hope you’ll all listen in at 6 pm EDT when we find out our Draft Pick, and I hope you’ll all continue to watch as our two finalists continue to battle it out for the LSM2 title!

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

COUNTDOWN TO THE NUMBER 1 DRAFT PICK!
http://www.twitch.tv/precariouskong

Just a reminder that the #1 Draft Pick Selection will be in about an hour. Which lucky draft pick will shake hands with Commissioner Precarious? Well, here are your chances:


ActiveUnique 18 (1-18)
AdeebNafees 1 (19)
anachorete 4 (20-23)
awein999 6 (24-29)
back2000 5 (30-34)
Ben_B 18 (35-52)
Behemoth542 3 (53-55)
BestMte 9 (56-64)
Blizzard2000 6 (65-70)
BLOODYRAIN10001 1 (71)
Bluji 5 (72-76)
CalmWaters 4 (77-80)
CptCmer 4 (81-84)
DaddyNZ 7 (85-91)
Darkboy5846 6 (92-97)
dragonc0 7 (98-104)
dragonrider1234 3 (105-107)
Ferrish 5 (108-112)
hamuka 3 (113-115)
haych2 3 (116-118)
Holy2334 3 (119-121)
JimmyCarlos 3 (122-124)
JoshDragon 2 (125-126)
Kadleon 4 (127-130)
Kragnir 6 (131-136)
levak2 1 (137)

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

The #1 Draft Pick Update

The #1 Draft Pick RNG will take place tomorrow, Wednesday July 16, at 6 pm EDT (a little more than 24 hours from now). I will once again remind everyone that everyone is eligible for this, and Kong points will be awarded to the winner, so please pay attention, and good luck!

 
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Topic: Forum Games / The List(current round: Hard boss fights)

Xylem.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Rage & Grace, 42nd Kongregate Tournament. First Team Competition. Round 1 IS UP( Wonderputt, Mutually Assured Destruction)- Special Draft, Kreds' Prize

Hipe is back! Hype!

 
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Topic: Forum Games / [Competition] Badge Bonanza Day 6: Catch up day

MoneySeize is the perfect confluence of difficulty and anticipation. Because Bonus X is basically out of reach without collecting the other coins, yet is incredibly easy, there’s an extended sense of excitement and euphoria once you actually finish level 40.

This also remains the most excited I’ve ever been about finishing a badge. Map Pack was a harder platformer, but all I felt there was relief, not joy.

EDIT: Turtle points out that I could have said “coinfluence.” I’m disappointed in myself. :(

 
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Topic: Kongregate / [Tournament] Lousy Smarch Madness 2 -- Congratulations ActiveUnique!

Here are links to AU’s videos:

Focus (Insane Mode)

Focus (Original Mode)

Clarence’s Big Chance


Originally posted by Bluji:

Is there a link to your Twitch somewhere, Prec?

http://www.twitch.tv/precariouskong. I’ll do the Draft Pick tomorrow (Tuesday) evening, unless someone really wants me to hold it on a different day.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Rage & Grace, 42nd Kongregate Tournament. First Team Competition. Round 1 IS UP( Wonderputt, Mutually Assured Destruction)- Special Draft, Kreds' Prize

 
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Topic: Forum Games / Chat Games Thread

CG lives!

Impromptu Returns

Winner: Woon1957