(Alternatively buy me one with points on my page.)
Releasing this minor version increment to fix a few things that were bothering me about 1.4.0.
- The "standard" and "realism" categories have been renamed "open" and "default" respectively and have switched places. The "default" category contains all sorts of rules and parameters in an attempt to create sensible results, while the "open" category is able to combine virtually anything with anything.
- Rephrased ALL THE VERBS for more natural results than the constant "is being".
- Done a lot of changes to the Fantasy and Sci-Fi categories to emphasize them more, though I'm open for ideas on how to expand them even further if anyone have any.
- Also keen to hear ideas for more verbs that could be squeezed in here and there.
The generator and you
While you can take the generator results as they are, I personally recommend taking them a step further. Think about how the scenario in the results could have come to pass, whether there's any way to build on them or even whether there's any way to make them better on your own. But if you want to just take the results literally, go ahead.
The generator and I
Polishing and improving this tool is a fun project and I'm open for any ideas or suggestions for ways it could be better. While I know my way around an ActionScript code, I'm not a professional coder and not an expert in the language. Still, I try my best. Writing a tool like this is still pretty sweet, right?
Thanks for the DD!
Style: "Do it an overly extravagant style, using your fingers dipped in paint."
10/10 would watch
Totally took that the wrong way.
"A buffalo washes a scarf
"A boat crashes through a camera"
"A ninja llama swears at a bison"
"A shaman yells at an arena"
"A bagel is transported by a tricycle"... Another interesting one I'd like to try doing something with though I have no idea what.
"An oven placed upon a steak" - I find this inexplicably hilarious.
"A spatula collides with a meteor"
"A desk hidden in a skateboard" - I think... I think I actually have an idea for this.
If I actually produce any of these things, should I link them?
"A geologist is excited by a bacon strip" - Do it in an overly extravagant style, using pastel.
I would totally accept this challenge, if I could actually art.
A disk placed upon a glass.
A farmhouse houses a pirate llama.
An alien drink just about to hit a satellite.
A space academy gets drawn toward a satellite.
A high-elf child becomes a zombie.
A zombie welcomes a half-orc baby.
I'm back, after... Uhhh... carry the two... A very long time! Time to make up a new story!
-A wealthy child dreams of being a developer
-A skillful teenager becomes a likeable programmer
-A violent game puzzles a disagreeable man
-A sturdy desk gets trashed by a broken programmer
-A polite kid chases a hallowed programmer
....Ok, this is gonna be a long one, but GO! (Had to do a hell of a lot of research to get names and games and places and stuff)
"You need to decide, Dean. What do you want to be when you're older?" His father looked him in the eyes, quite curious as to what he might say. "I already told you, dad." He stopped mid sentence and pointed to a picture on the far side of the room. "That again? Honestly, Dean. You're a smart young man and I know we have the money, but do you really think you can become a developer? You realise how much work that is?" His father stood up and walked to the door. "Son, I'm going to send your mother in to see if she can talk sense to you. When you've got a logical and realistic answer, come talk to me." (Geezuz, who stuck a frozen stick up this guy's ass?) "Dad..." The boy already decided. He had been in a private school from a young age. He always had high grades, he even took programming as a subject. (Pffffch as if any character I make can be that smart.)
3 years later... (That's a long time, in case you missed it.)
The boy had finally completed his matric exams. He had to choose a college."Dean." His dad walked in his room. "Father."(Geezuz, so formal!) Dean hadn't moved from his spot in front of the computer. He was typing away on some junior developing kit. "Dean. You know why I'm here." Dean still didn't look away, as he calmly continued and said - the thing he's probably said most the last 4 years - "My answer is still the same." Dean's father, instead of the normal argument, sat down on his bed and gave Dean a list. "Here's a list of colleges nearby. You can select one and we'll pay your entry fees." Dean was shocked. (Omigawd he's being reasonable!) He immediately turned from his computer screen and took the list. "Nearby? But.. these are miles away." Dean had flipped through the files. He looked at his father. "I know. Most of the colleges on the list are out of town. But down worry, We can buy an apartment flat for you." He stood and was just about to leave when his son called. "What made you change your mind?" Dean had a worried expression. (Because otherwise the story wouldn't progress, you moron.) His father had hesitated at first, but then, in a soft voice he said "You've shown your mother and I the past few years what a hard worker you can be. I decided to give you a chance because of that." Dean smiled. "I like this one."
Another 5 years later... (Eww, Dean is old now....)
Dean was standing outside a building. (Which building you ask? Read further and you'll know, idiot.) The building which he waited for most of his life to stand before. He had finally graduated college, and is now a programmer. Liked and respected for being a main programmer and developer in the best game ever (No, not Deadpool, unfortunately.), Call of Super League of Warcraft: Assassin's Mortal Ocarina of Final Street Theft 4, a First Person Shooter Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Strategy-based game, (Or FPSMMORPGSBG for short. Yeah.) Where you play as Ash Ketchum, a super saiyan from planet Namek who uses his powers as a Spirit detective to defeat Hollows in order to protect the digital world from the fire nation, with your side-kick, Mario, a dragonborn from planet Sera who is part of an organisation called SeeD, to help stop the T-virus from spreading and turning everyone into giant mutant turtles. It is a very successful game and everyone with a XWiiPlayUboxStation platform is playing it. (Crossovers, crossovers everywhere.) All but one man in particular (Screw you, one man in particular.) enjoys the game, and thinks it is the best thing ever made. This disagreeable man thinks the game is too violent and confusing (Hell, Isn't violence what makes games great?) and has tried to sue the game's developer, ActiRockGearHeadSquareSoftIgo Entertainment Studios, which Dean is a main programmer of. (That means it's bad news for Dean.)
Eventually, the man stops trying to sue the company, seeing that he won't go far. The company, however, despite Dean's efforts, sees it as his fault, as he is the main programmer. The company call his to a meeting and says he needs to take some time off the job, while they decide if they should fire him or not. Dean feels broken inside. When he gets home he befalls into rage. He starts trashing his apartment. He threw his favourite desk out of the window. (Poor desk!)
Two days later... (Omigawd, dem time skips..)
Dean is walking to the train station, where he sits on a bench next to a man about his age and his son, who looks about 8 years old. The man had stood up and left as soon as Dean sat down. "Nobody recognises me anymore... And those that do probably hate me." Dean mumbles to himself under his breath. "I'm nothing but hollow. I'm empty. There is nothing for me anymore." Dean said once again, closing his eyes. (Jeez Louise, he's like a sad old man. Oh wait...) Suddenly a tap on the shoulder had disturbed him of his thoughts. The man and his son was there once again. The boy had looked at him as if he'd seen him before. "Are you Mr. Dean Corrigne? (Pffffch, what a gay surname. N-Not that gays aren't awesome, but... Umm... Hehehe.) The programmer for the game everyone is talking about?" Dean nodded, and the boy held out an icecream for Dean. "Please don't be sad Mr. Dean. You're very talented." Dean had smiled when he heard those words, but realised he was late for his train. He ran to get to the train. The polite boy had followed him, telling him that he had forgotten his icecream. Dean smiled and told the boy he should keep it. Dean had boarded his train in time, and as he sat dawn, he thought... "How the hell does that little kid know me? He is, like, eight or something? The game we developed clearly has a Rated M sticker on it. Damn, kids these days!" (Didn't expect that ending, didja?! But seriously. Kids these days.)
Well. That was fun. And totally didn't take four hours to write. Hahaha. Why would you think- Oh Goddamnit, my jokes are terrible.
I think my day is now complete
A coyote wonders at a ornate chair.
A leather apron placed on a lether apron. (Is that a glitch?)
The child flicked one pointed ear at his chattering companion, the royal jester of his father's court. He was tempted to just morph into his alternate form, a coyote, a run off to escape the incesant noise. At least high-elves could morph, unlike witch elves and the like.
He raised his head, fixing a friendly smile on his face when he aw the beginnings of a town market. His stomach rumbled at the scents of early morning bread and sweet maple syrup. Then the jester's annoying voice broke through his thoughts and he turned with a forced smile at the jester.
"Well, we ae arrived at your destination, though not my own, good jester. I bid you well and a long life beyond our parting," the elven child said. He turned away, leaving the older elf to stare as he morphed into a sand-colored coyote and ran away.
He stopped once he had travelled a few minutes, then sat... only to yelp when something was thrown down in front of him. It was a chair, very beautifully carved, made from mahogany, which even as a prince he had never touched, with skill that only a talented master could possess. Several men, crudely dressed and even more rudely laughing, backed up and left. A bottle shattered at his paws when one man, the obvious leader, finished his alcohol and threw it behind him.
The prince coyote shook one stinging paw, picking a small bit of glass from
between his toes and licking away the blood. He couldn't morph until he was freed from the stinging transparent bottle shards.
He glanced at the chair, marveling at the rare power which had shaped thismasterpeice
"That chair has a tale sealed inside," a creaky voice murmured. The coyoye prince limped as he turned, seeing an old leather-faced man with a shock of white mane tumbling down his muscular shoulders. He wore an apron made of actual leather, bulky against this elder's figure.
The high-elf became himself once again. "Would you care to tell this story to me, elder?"
Sorry I made two comments. I'm on a mobile device, and it doesn't work right sometimes.
- A planet shines on a dueling arena X
- An orange gets carried by a unicorn X
Now let's try to make logical sense of this.... Hey i know! Let's make it harder for me by making it my little pony related! Go!
It was the night of the great magic duel and many ponyfolk were gathered from across the land. Some unicorns were munching on cookies, enhanced with a spell to make their magic stronger. The duel was held at exactly midnight, and it was getting darker by the second. The full moon hung high above them, shining with it's soft ivory glow, a sign that their beloved lunar princess was watching. The "Mare in the Moon" had been long gone from the celestial body, only a few craters forming the shape of the alicorn's head were any proof she had ever been trapped there. From what I could see, I was the only pegasus gathered here this night. One mare was holding an orange with her magic. I wonder what it could be for? Perhaps it is there in the case that she should need to use a transfiguration spell. Everything is getting silent as the moon reaches its highest point, and stops. The unicorns in red ready their horns in an attack stance. The unicorns in yellow do the same. The duel has begun.
Wow.... that... that was better than I thought I could do.... -runs off to try my hoof at a fanfic-
I imagine the moment:
skier: ??!! wtf
-A meteor gets outrun by a doughnut.
-A Dragon gets robbed by a mop.
-A buffalo learns to be a pack of raisins.
-A boy meets is curious about a buffalo
Time to make a logical statement (I'll try to anyway...)
One day while a photographer was in his office looking through photos he had taken, his son had rushed into the room to show him his art project. It was a sculpture of the Milky Way, perfectly arranged. He even had a meteor on the side of the sculpture.
The photographer was so impressed with the sculpture he wanted to take a picture of it. Unfortunatly his quick movment knocked his doughnut off the desk, and hit the meteor, which then broke off. They fell one the ground, the doughnut just seconds before the meteor.
The boy was heartbroken that his beautiful project had been broken, and without thinking he had thrown his father with the sculpture, the stars breaking on the photographer's head. The boy ran out of the house and passed his favourite clothing store, "Dragon", which sells men's clothes as well as accesories like watches and piercings. The boy was standing outside when a gang stopped next to the entrance with their bikes. The one in front, who looked like their leader, had the word "MOP" tatood in big bold letters on his chest. He had taken out a handgun, entered the store, cocked the gun and BAM! The boy ran for his life. Fortunatly he had escaped the grasp of the man approacing him.
The gang called the man who had ran towards him "Buffalo." Are all these their actual names or just really bad nicknames they got off some Internet generator? Anyway, The man had a black turtleneck coat, with a hoodie to cover his eyes. He looked exactly like those guys from the band "Pack of Raisins." Good music, I should really buy their CD. Too bad they split up. The boy looked at the man and said, "You're the guy playing the guitar for POR, right?" The man stopped chasing him and grunted. "I wish, kid, but that's history. Me and the band had some problems. I'm through with them, I'm part of the Morbid On Play now. These guys rock. Get the New Album, Death to Dragons, only $59.99." The boy had shed a tear. "That's amazing." The man turned around and started to walk back.
Alright, WTF just happened? What did I just do with the last half an hour of my life? WHAAT?!
That was really awesome thing! Sorry for taking so long to respond to it, hehe, but stories like that just make the time put into writing this thing so way much more worth it!