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Not sure why rest stops and such try to get me to use 1-ply toilet paper. I'm just gonna use twice as much anyway :P
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Bio
Yo! You actually are reading this bio! Wow! That's awesome! You should feel very proud of yourself, taking up your time, simply to read this bio, which I have constructed for you to read. You have no clue how completely validated I feel each time someone actually reads this bio. It certainly does wonders for one's self esteem, as you wouldn't believe how many people will look through my profile without bothering to read this fantastic bio, and yet, here you are. You, of all people, somehow still contain the willpower and determination to continue reading this bio. It must be as it was spoken in the prophecy, that those whom hold a place in your future will take the time to read your entire bio. That prophecy, of course, was nothing more than a lie. However, even this information doesn't deter you, does it? At this point, I'm truly not sure how you are still reading this. Could it be because you have sworn to yourself that you would finish reading this bio, no matter how boring or meaningless it might be? Or perhaps you are merely bored yourself, using this abnormally long bio as a way to take your mind off of some worldly troubles which you are currently afflicted in. It may even be possible that you are taking up a habit which I have performed many a time myself: you sit at your workplace with some sort of responsibility staring you in the face. Rather than facing this responsibility, however, you choose to ignore it entirely! You logged onto this website, whether it be on your computer, laptop, or smartphone, and somehow, with a surprising mix of luck and chance, you found yourself on my profile page, where you began reading my once seemingly innocent bio, and now find yourself in a snare that has hence lasted approximately 1,750 characters. Certainly a daunting number, don't you think so? I can only imagine that one such as you is asking, "Why is this person's bio so abnormally long? Where did he get this innate idea to waste not only my time, but his own, to write such an atrociously long bio for his profile page on this website? Well, truthfully, this bio came to being simply through an observation and a theory. While waiting for a response in a roleplay session, I glanced through my bio and saw that I had not yet written a bio. Thinking that it would be fun to give the majority of users and guests on this website some basic information about myself, I opened the tab to find that I could potentially type up to 100,000 characters. One hundred thousand characters! For one measly bio! I scoffed at the idea at first, but it truly intrigued me. I thought to myself, "What if I could somehow find a way to meet that maximum?" Surely, it would make me a king among the common masses of this website! Rumors would spread like wildfire of the man who had taken the time to type a one hundred thousand character bio! And I was not to use any cheeky tactics either. No copying and pasting, no images, no gibberish speak, merely me, taking the time out of my weekend to sit down and type a bio that was one hundred thousand words long! I decided at once to begin the journey and from there... Well, you know what happened from there. You've been reading it all, after all... Haven't you? You certainly weren't scrolling mindlessly through this masterfully created bio instead of taking the time to read and appreciate each carefully chosen word... Were you? *gasp* You weren't? How dare you! I take the precious time out of my day, nay, out of my week, to craft you a bio, a story, and you, with your absentmindedly scrolling fingers and your careless attitude, truly believe that you could scroll through this bio, perhaps check the end for some hidden secret and somehow avoid the full power of my rage? Oh, I'm sorry? Am I being too violent? Too aggressive? Too angry? You haven't even seen me angry!!! ...oh my. I'm so sorry. That truly was uncalled for. Can you... can you forgive me? Please? Oh, you will? Thank you, thank you so much! I'll make up for the mistake I've made, I promise! I'm just... shocked at what happened back there. Oh my, I'm starting to wonder if the pressure of such a large order is starting to get to me. Just look at me! Not only am I expecting myself to type out a 100,000 character essay, but now, you are too! Oh, don't try and deny it! After reading all of this waste of time, you know that you will only feel satisfied if I manage to somehow crank out 100,000 characters! Otherwise, such an endeavor would be merely pointless! There's got to be some way to appease both you and myself, some way for both of us to truly feel... happy. Wait. I think I just had an idea. I know this is going to sound crazy, but just hear me out. What if I type one hundred thousand characters... but I don't? Perhaps, I could write every last character in 5,000 character segments like this? That way, eventually I will have a 100,000 word bio and not go insane. Does that sound good? Great! In that case, FIRST SEGMENT COMPLETE!
Full Name: Ryan Daniel Phillips Age: 32 Gender: Male Height: 6'5" Weight: 235 lbs
Previous Occupation: Author
Likes: Video Games Running Rainy Days Contemporary/Jazz Music Tap Dancing
Dislikes: Dogs Seafood People who don't celebrate birthdays Nicknames Hip Hop
Fears: Death (necrophobia) Heights (acrophobia) Snakes (ophiophobia)
Personality: Ryan has always been a relatively easygoing person and can rarely be found in a bad mood. If he is approached by someone, then he will go out of his way to put them in a good mood as well. Unless they approach him, however, he can be a tad bit introverted, preferring the company of his own thoughts. He thinks that this is for good reason because he is a very intelligent person, and most of the time, his best ideas come from his own head rather than the input of others. He would never say so to anyone, but he considers himself to be one of the smartest people that he knows. He also has a very strong sense of what he believes to be right and wrong, taking a page from Shakespeare: "Mine honor is my life; both grow in one. Take honor from me, and my life is done."
Of course, a writer like Ryan knows that no character is complete without flaws, and he's got plenty. Due to his introverted nature, he has a tendency to be secretive and judgmental. he also can be very stubborn at times; once he makes a decision, he will stick to it until it is entirely obvious that he has failed. Alongside his intellectual nature is an almost immediate dislike of those who are uneducated. Ryan has developed a bit of an ego from his intellect, and while he is kind to others, he will look down on those who aren't as intelligent as him and oppose those who disagree with him. He constantly feels as though he needs to prove that he is capable of respect to others, which he tries to accomplish through reasoning and logic, making him seem cold hearted to those who are more emotional thinkers.
History: Ryan was born on February 3rd, 1984 and raised on the West Coast of the United States in San Francisco, California. His father was the founder of a small tech company, and his mother was a state attorney, and both of his parents encouraged Ryan from a young age to follow his dreams. Admittedly, he had it easier than most kids, but you had to have a rather large bank account to afford living in a city like San Francisco. Once he started school, Ryan almost immediately stood out from his peers. He seemed to learn almost everything in half the time that it took the other students in his class, and by the time he was 8 years old, his parents and the principal to move him up a grade level. In high school, most would've thought that he would've had trouble making friends, but his easygoing nature made him acquaintances of most of his classmates and a small group of close friends.
It wasn't until his junior year of high school that he actually decided that he wanted to be an author. His language arts teacher had given his class an assignment to write a narrative; he couldn't remember what the subject was if you asked him today. A trio of seniors who had failed the class last year and were retaking it knew that he was relatively smart, and they threatened him to write their assignments for them. Knowing that these kids would follow on a threat, he worked himself to the bone to write the essays for the three seniors, as well as his own. After the papers were turned in, his teacher told him that she knew that the three seniors didn't write their own essays and that he should be punished along with them for cheating. However, she told him that the four papers that he had written were the four best papers that she had ever read, telling him that he had a talent for writing. After that day, Ryan's heart was set on becoming an author. He ended up graduating as the valedictorian of his class, and he was given a full scholarship to go to the University of Iowa.
College was a new experience for Ryan, mainly because he had never been so far from home before. Still, he didn't let this stop him and instead developed a more introverted style, buckling down into assignments and essays rather than parties or bars. He learned quickly that while research was a must for any topic of writing, it helps a lot to balance it out with exercise, strengthening both the mind and the body. His combination of daily jogging and social isolationism helped him to earn a master's degree in creative writing and move back to San Francisco. However, once he got out of college, he quickly realized that being an author was much more difficult than writing a manuscript. He had to take on multiple part time jobs while submitting his writings to editors, who were very critical of his writing. After more rejected submissions than he could count, one editor finally accepted one of his works (ironically, an island survival story titled Dead Waters) and it quickly became a relatively popular book. It certainly wasn't on the New York Bestsellers list, but it was enough to kickstart his writing career. Since then, he has released two more books in what became an island survival trilogy and is currently working on a horror mystery novel based in Australia, where Ryan was traveling (by plane!) to get a first hand perspective of the culture. Unfortunately, he didn't quite plan on learning the culture of previously stated "bitch ass sharks." Seems like he'll have to improvise a bit.
Location: Control Room -> Outside Control Room Interacting With: Harold @Beefydork Jessica @FacePunch Mood: Embarrassed Jack couldn't help but look back at the fight with a touch of regret. He thought of everything that he could have done to avoid the situation. I could've dodged the punch, avoided the plasma cannon properly, maybe even just stayed on the sides and watched the others fight. Of course, instead he gave the entire room the sort of atmosphere found only in cheery places like prisons or mental hospitals. He was well used to feeling out of place among others, but making others feel uncomfortable made him feel... well, uncomfortable. Luckily for Jack, Jessica seemed to be well prepared for situations like this and spoke up quickly. He was thankful that she gave the offer of breakfast. Yeah, forgive me for forgetting to mention that I already ate. He was about to respond when Harold spoke up, trying to convince him to eat with them. As he spoke, Jack thought of how lucky he was to have walked into the control room with these two. He knew that a good chunk of students at the school, Mayweather and Delphina alike, would probably never talk to him again after a display like this. Worse, some of them might even encourage it. Jack looked at the two waiting for a response and replied, "Yeah, I could use a bit of breakfast. I've been starving all morning." In reality, Samantha's breakfast was churning in his stomach from revulsion over his last fight. Harold's right. There's a difference between fair fighting and cruelty, and it's pretty obvious which category that that fell into.
Jackson walked towards the doors leading out of the control room, but something kept him from leaving. He felt like something had gone unsaid. Oh right. It's me. I'm leaving something unsaid. He took a deep breath before continuing, "Um, I'm sorry about that, by the way. I don't really know what happened back there. It's never happened before, and I honestly hope it never happens again." If it ever happened again, then he knew that the witnesses might not be so accepting, and Jack didn't want to be known as some cruel person. Still, it felt better to clear the air, even it is was only momentarily. To try and calm himself down, he did a little trick that he had picked up when he first discovered his powers. For a moment, he slowed down time to a crawl and began breathing normally. Just like when air stopped moving when he stopped time, the travel of air slowed whenever he stopped time. With this information, he knew that by focusing on his breathing, it would have the same effect as breathing into a paper bag. He knew that to the others, he must have looked like he was hyperventilating, while in reality, his breathing was actually slowing. When he felt somewhat calmer, he returned time to its regular passage and gave Harold and Jessica a small smile. "Well, I'm ready whenever you are." He said as he walked outside of the building to begin walking to the cafeteria.
Currently in Diagon Alley, from Ollivander's to Madame Malkins' Robes
Interacting With: Charlyn [@KathleenCuthald]
Taking another moment to take in the view of Diagon Alley, Cam couldn't help but smile. He was still amazed at the prospect of how such a small population of wizards, hidden among the masses of regular people, were able to fill the street with life. It made him feel as though he was part of some tight knit community of magic users. It's awesome, even just to think about it. He thought back to merely a few months ago, when his definition of magic had been hiding yourself from everyone else, much like his mother did. Well, they were still all hiding from the Muggles, but at least they were hiding... together. Thinking of his mother, Cam was brought out of a sort of daze as he remembered his job. He hadn't been able to convince his mom to let him shop by himself for school supplies, but they had agreed to split the shopping to save time. She gave him a handful of coins, which she said would be just enough for him to buy a wand and some school robes; she told him that she would handle the rest. Personally, he hoped that he would have some money left over. His mom had told him about her favorite types of wizard candies when she went to Hogwarts, and he intended on trying a few.
After deciding that getting a wand would probably take less time than getting the robes, Cam decided to go buy his wand first. His mom had only let him look at and use her wand after he had received his acceptance letter. She had taught him only a few basic spells, but she figured that any advantage he could have over the other students was a good thing. Either way, he would obviously be able to cast magic more efficiently with his own wand, so he headed towards Ollivander's, which he had been told was the wand shop. He entered the shop, taking note of how it appeared generally less busy than the rest of the stores. Then again, I'd imagine the only people who shop here are first year students like me and the occasional klutz who broke their wand. He stepped up to the counter, where the man behind the counter was just finishing completing the purchase of another wand. He briefly wondered how the store's prices were regulated, being one of the only stores where students could buy wands. Still, he stepped up to the shopkeeper, who Cam could only assume was Ollivander himself.
Speaking up to the man, he said, "This is where we buy our wands, right?" His question was returned with a smile and a response. "You are correct, young man! Now I can only assume that you are here to buy a wand yourself?" Cam already didn't like Ollivander much, talking down to him as though he was a simpleton. He responded with a smirk, "Really? I thought that I was making it obvious that I was here to inquire about purchasing airplane tickets to Dubai." However, the sarcasm from his remark seemed to slide right off of Ollivander like butter. "Of course, of course! As much as I'd like to help you, perhaps you should go to school before you go on vacation, and for that, I would most certainly recommend a wand. Now then, tell me a little bit about yourself." Cam decided to lay off of the wandmaker for now; whether or not he liked him, he needed a wand from the man. He gave a little spiel of his life to Ollivander. "Well, my name is Cameron Ramsey Jr., I'm eleven years old, my mother's family is magical, not my dad's, and I have a cat named Ginger." He wasn't sure how this information would make any difference as to which wand he used. Of course, he saw that Ollivander was really only paying partial attention to his speech. I knew he was looking for something else! Maybe he's looking at my physical features, or he's analyzing our conversation to find out who I am. Of course, Ollivander gave no other clues to his methods, instead excusing himself to the back to look through his stock. He brought out one of the many and presented it to Cam. "Ebony, with a dragon heartstring core, 12 inches long. I think this should work just fine, but you should probably test it out." Cam tentatively picked it up from the counter, not sure what would happen. He held it in his right hand and gave it a small shake and watched the tip produce a small light. "That's it?" He couldn't help but feel disappointed with the minor display. Suddenly, he noticed that the wands displayed on shelves also began to light up until eventually, every wand in the store was lit. Did I do all of that? After a few moments, the lights all faded into nothing. It was as if nothing had ever happened. However, Cam could tell that the wandmaker had noticed, and he had a smile on his face. "No matter how many kids come in here, it warms my heart to see their faces when they first use their new wands." Indeed, Cam felt astonished at how he was able to perform magic like that. I never thought that I would be able to do magic in the first place! Giddy with excitement, he paid for his wand and ran out of the store as fast as he could.
With one task crossed off of his list, Cam walked down the street to Madame Malkin's Robes, where his mom had told him to buy his robes. He wondered if he should have gotten his robes first, considering how less exciting it would be compared to buying his wand. Still, there was nothing to do about it, so he entered the store, where he was greeted with row upon row of robes of different colors and styles. He saw a rack of robes that were able to change color based on the wearer's mood. Thinking to the list he had received with his acceptance letter, he wished that the uniform at Hogwarts was somewhat more lenient. He looked around for Madame Malkin, but there was no one behind the counter. Rather than wait around for her to show up, he decided to browse the store. Who knows? Maybe I'll have enough money left over to buy myself a fancy robe. He honestly doubted it, but the thought gave him incentive to look through the store. He saw that for the most part, the store was lacking in kids his age. Either they've all bought their robes already or they're buying candies or something instead. I can't stand procrastinators. However, he did see one girl who looked like she might be in her first year as well; she looked about his age, and held the same amazement in her eyes that he was certain lingered in his own. Cam figured that it couldn't do any harm to talk to her, at least until Madame Malkin came back from wherever she was in the back of the store. He approached a rack adjacent to the one she was browsing, saying, "This is insane, isn't it? All these wizards and all this magic in just one street. It really puts everything into perspective, don't you think so?"
@smarty0114 What?! How dare you suggest something like that! Allow me to berate you for such inappropriate behavior while buying these cartons of rotten eggs... It's for an entirely different reason, I assure you!
But yeah, in all seriousness, that sounds like an awesome idea!
Yeah, Diagon Alley seems like a good place to start. The place will be packed with students, so we'll get a chance for characters to meet before all the magic starts.
Location: Control Room Interacting With: Harold @Beefydork Jessica @FacePunch Mood: Calm -> Enraged -> Embarrassed Jack couldn't help but smile at Harold and Jessica's comments. He knew that stopping time was unfair, and it was probably a bad habit otherwise to depend on it. Sometimes it surprised him how much you could learn from others. Still, he responded to them both with a grin, "Yeah, it is a pretty cheap tactic, but fighting fair is just so boring, you know?" He kept his seat as he watched the other two finish their fights. Well, I can only imagine it takes guts to take a sword to the head or dodge freaking lasers! They both seemed like they had been training their whole life; Jack couldn't help but be impressed. "Wow! You two are, like, masters or something. I could use some training from people like you." He only had some basic martial arts training that he had taken when he first came to Mayweather, but it was clear that students were expected to focus on using their powers, an unfortunate setup for a kid like him with no combat abilities. Still, he was determined to find a way to utilize his powers in as many ways as possible. Deciding that he had recovered enough to go another round, he headed towards another of the AI's to begin another round.
He approached one of the machines, which he still was in awe of, and set its difficulty level. Eh, I'm not too sure I can trust myself with red. With that said, he set the AI's level to orange while listening to Harold's question. "So, have any other plans for today?" Now that was a question that Jack needed to think about. These two made good company, but no matter who was in the control room, he had no desire to stay in here all day. He decided that the best idea was to keep his options open so that he had a chance to either stay at home or go out, depending on how he felt afterwards. "Well, coming here to train was really the only plan that I had made today. I suppose I could actually, you know, do something, but I'm not sure." He knew that it sounded like he was being divisive, but... well, that was precisely what he was being. Oh well. He got into a fighting stance and prepared to fight the AI, which had just finished reassembling. He noticed that it had an impressive arsenal, not quite as threatening as that of the red level AI's, but it still had a small plasma cannon attached to its right wrist. Definitely not a force to be reckoned with. "Alright, let's get this party started," Jack muttered to himself as man and machine prepared for round two.
The bot certainly took the offensive, coming in with a straight left jab to the face. This time, however, instead of stopping time, he slowed its passing until it crawled like a turtle in quicksand. Like a mammoth in a tar pit. Like a... car... without fuel. What? Metaphors are hard. Putting aside terrible uses of figurative language, he dodged the punch with relative ease as its speed was effectively cut in half. He knew that while time was stopped, any hits he delivered would be delivered with more velocity and, thus, more damage, so he hit the machine with a right hook. He appreciated the fact that it's exterior didn't feel too much like metal as its head was knocked back by his closed fist. As time returned to its natural flow, the AI stumbled back before apparently remembering the plasma cannon on its wrist. Damn, I was hoping it'd just forget about stuff like that. Nevertheless, it made haste in aiming its wrist cannon towards Jack, who, ironically, didn't even have the time to stop time. Instead, he rolled to the side to narrowly avoid the burn of the ammo. It was easy to forget that it wasn't shooting real plasma; that would just be dangerous. As he got to his feet, he turned to face the machine with a new determination on its face.
Which was briefly met with a metal fist.
"W...what?" Jack turned to face a mirror hanging on the wall. Sure enough, a print was forming on his face. He'd probably have a black eye for the next few days. For some reason, the thought brought an unexplainable rage with it. Stupid machine! You think you can show me up? Think again. He moved towards the machine, which was charging another shot from its plasma cannon. He knew it would never get the chance as he approached. As it prepared to launch a blast of plasma, Jack delivered an uppercut to the gut, quickly following it with a jab to the head. He felt as though time had slowed somewhat, but at this point, he was just running on full adrenaline. He followed his attack up with a strong kick to the kneecap, forcing the AI down to one knee. This was swiftly followed with him grabbing it by the neck and slamming him to the ground. It attempted to counter with a jab to the face, which Jack easily dodged as he pinned it to the ground. Finally being in a position of advantage, he showed that damn machine who was boss and delivered a strong left jab to the face. And another. And another. And another. And ano-
Enough. His own voice crossed through his thoughts like the voice of reason. Looking down at the bot, he realized that it had deactivated at least a few punches ago. "What the hell was that?" Jack muttered to himself. It wasn't like he had never taken a hit in the control room before. This was different, like he had lost himself once he got punched. He looked over to the mirror once again, as if it hadn't really happened, but his eye was quickly bruising. That had actually happened. He honestly couldn't tell whether Harold and Jessica had seen him; maybe he could just ignore it? "Well, that's gonna leave a mark," he said with an embarrassed laugh to the others. Even he wasn't sure whether he was talking about his eye or the AI, which was thankfully being carted away for reactivation. He went over and leaned against the wall of the control room to try and clear his head.
Location: Control Room Interacting With: Harold @Beefydork Jessica @FacePunch Mood: Calm -> Exhausted It was quite clear that none of these three were too skilled in the social niceties and such, but Jackson felt delighted that he was actually able to continue a conversation. At least when he was talking to Harold and Jessica, he seemed competent at it... almost. He listened as Jessica answered his question, returned it. and then asked, "Uh, why don't we head inside?" That would probably be a good idea. We certainly won't be required to talk this much while we work. "Sounds like a good idea," Jackson replied, walking through the doors into the actual control room.While he walked inside, he answered, "As for your question, Jessica, you'd honestly never catch me in here unless it was on my schedule, but this morning, I forgot that it was the weekend. By the time I realized, I was already almost out the door. I decided to see whether I could study with a teacher or something, but, lo and behold, every classroom was locked. I just figured that the control room was better than nothing." He recalled the events of his morning with a shrug.
Jack smiled as Harold stated, "I don't mind working on my socializing skills." Perhaps that was what made them so comfortable with talking to each other. They were all terrible at talking to other people. It was honestly ironic, and it brought a smile to Jack's face. "Yeah, I could always use a bit of work, you know, talking to other people." He thought of how he really didn't know many of the people in this school too well and how many people he's never really talked to. Perhaps I should try to get to know some more people around campus. Still, it would be rude to leave, and somehow, he actually felt like working in the control room today. Instead, he walked towards one of the AI's programmed for fighting and settled into a loose stance. The machine took this as a signal to begin and came after him.
Just as it was about to land a punch on him, Jack focused and felt time once again stop around him. Everything fell motionless, including the AI that he was fighting. An obvious combat advantage. For this reason, Jack felt that combat in the control room was highly unbalanced, but it was simply how his powers worked. Besides, he knew that he was ever attacked, he didn't plan on fighting fair. So, Jack got to work, delivering multiple punches to the face and stomach, chops to the neck, and finishing the display with a kick to the groin. Beginning to feel a pressure in the back of his head, almost nagging him, "Quit messing with the laws of physics!" he decided to let the world work its magic and let time pass again. As he expected, the AI functioned as any human would and was knocked out immediately from a sensory overload as every hit Jack had delivered appeared to hit the machine at the same time. Typical. "You know, you'd think that artificial intelligence would be a bit more... intelligent." he said with a laugh. In truth, most of the training that Jack did in the control room was to do with lengthening the amount of control he had over time and how long he could hold it for. Still, he imagined that the others would be in some sort of combat training while they were in here, and he didn't want to give them any reason to feel uncomfortable. Using his powers for combat, however, made him drastically weary, so he sat in the corner of the room and watched Harold and Jessica train while he caught his breath.
Yo! You actually are reading this bio! Wow! That's awesome! You should feel very proud of yourself, taking up your time, simply to read this bio, which I have constructed for you to read. You have no clue how completely validated I feel each time someone actually reads this bio. It certainly does wonders for one's self esteem, as you wouldn't believe how many people will look through my profile without bothering to read this fantastic bio, and yet, here you are. You, of all people, somehow still contain the willpower and determination to continue reading this bio. It must be as it was spoken in the prophecy, that those whom hold a place in your future will take the time to read your entire bio. That prophecy, of course, was nothing more than a lie. However, even this information doesn't deter you, does it? At this point, I'm truly not sure how you are still reading this. Could it be because you have sworn to yourself that you would finish reading this bio, no matter how boring or meaningless it might be? Or perhaps you are merely bored yourself, using this abnormally long bio as a way to take your mind off of some worldly troubles which you are currently afflicted in. It may even be possible that you are taking up a habit which I have performed many a time myself: you sit at your workplace with some sort of responsibility staring you in the face. Rather than facing this responsibility, however, you choose to ignore it entirely! You logged onto this website, whether it be on your computer, laptop, or smartphone, and somehow, with a surprising mix of luck and chance, you found yourself on my profile page, where you began reading my once seemingly innocent bio, and now find yourself in a snare that has hence lasted approximately 1,750 characters. Certainly a daunting number, don't you think so? I can only imagine that one such as you is asking, "Why is this person's bio so abnormally long? Where did he get this innate idea to waste not only my time, but his own, to write such an atrociously long bio for his profile page on this website? Well, truthfully, this bio came to being simply through an observation and a theory. While waiting for a response in a roleplay session, I glanced through my bio and saw that I had not yet written a bio. Thinking that it would be fun to give the majority of users and guests on this website some basic information about myself, I opened the tab to find that I could potentially type up to 100,000 characters. One hundred thousand characters! For one measly bio! I scoffed at the idea at first, but it truly intrigued me. I thought to myself, "What if I could somehow find a way to meet that maximum?" Surely, it would make me a king among the common masses of this website! Rumors would spread like wildfire of the man who had taken the time to type a one hundred thousand character bio! And I was not to use any cheeky tactics either. No copying and pasting, no images, no gibberish speak, merely me, taking the time out of my weekend to sit down and type a bio that was one hundred thousand words long! I decided at once to begin the journey and from there... Well, you know what happened from there. You've been reading it all, after all... Haven't you? You certainly weren't scrolling mindlessly through this masterfully created bio instead of taking the time to read and appreciate each carefully chosen word... Were you? *gasp* You weren't? How dare you! I take the precious time out of my day, nay, out of my week, to craft you a bio, a story, and you, with your absentmindedly scrolling fingers and your careless attitude, truly believe that you could scroll through this bio, perhaps check the end for some hidden secret and somehow avoid the full power of my rage? Oh, I'm sorry? Am I being too violent? Too aggressive? Too angry? [b]You haven't even seen me angry!!![/b]
...oh my. I'm so sorry. That truly was uncalled for. Can you... can you forgive me? Please? Oh, you will? Thank you, thank you so much! I'll make up for the mistake I've made, I promise! I'm just... shocked at what happened back there. Oh my, I'm starting to wonder if the pressure of such a large order is starting to get to me. Just look at me! Not only am I expecting myself to type out a 100,000 character essay, but now, you are too! Oh, don't try and deny it! After reading all of this waste of time, you know that you will only feel satisfied if I manage to somehow crank out 100,000 characters! Otherwise, such an endeavor would be merely pointless! There's got to be some way to appease both you and myself, some way for both of us to truly feel... happy.
Wait. I think I just had an idea. I know this is going to sound crazy, but just hear me out. What if I type one hundred thousand characters... but I don't? Perhaps, I could write every last character in 5,000 character segments like this? That way, eventually I will have a 100,000 word bio and not go insane. Does that sound good? Great! In that case, [b]FIRST SEGMENT COMPLETE![/b]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Yo! You actually are reading this bio! Wow! That's awesome! You should feel very proud of yourself, taking up your time, simply to read this bio, which I have constructed for you to read. You have no clue how completely validated I feel each time someone actually reads this bio. It certainly does wonders for one's self esteem, as you wouldn't believe how many people will look through my profile without bothering to read this fantastic bio, and yet, here you are. You, of all people, somehow still contain the willpower and determination to continue reading this bio. It must be as it was spoken in the prophecy, that those whom hold a place in your future will take the time to read your entire bio. That prophecy, of course, was nothing more than a lie. However, even this information doesn't deter you, does it? At this point, I'm truly not sure how you are still reading this. Could it be because you have sworn to yourself that you would finish reading this bio, no matter how boring or meaningless it might be? Or perhaps you are merely bored yourself, using this abnormally long bio as a way to take your mind off of some worldly troubles which you are currently afflicted in. It may even be possible that you are taking up a habit which I have performed many a time myself: you sit at your workplace with some sort of responsibility staring you in the face. Rather than facing this responsibility, however, you choose to ignore it entirely! You logged onto this website, whether it be on your computer, laptop, or smartphone, and somehow, with a surprising mix of luck and chance, you found yourself on my profile page, where you began reading my once seemingly innocent bio, and now find yourself in a snare that has hence lasted approximately 1,750 characters. Certainly a daunting number, don't you think so? I can only imagine that one such as you is asking, "Why is this person's bio so abnormally long? Where did he get this innate idea to waste not only my time, but his own, to write such an atrociously long bio for his profile page on this website? Well, truthfully, this bio came to being simply through an observation and a theory. While waiting for a response in a roleplay session, I glanced through my bio and saw that I had not yet written a bio. Thinking that it would be fun to give the majority of users and guests on this website some basic information about myself, I opened the tab to find that I could potentially type up to 100,000 characters. One hundred thousand characters! For one measly bio! I scoffed at the idea at first, but it truly intrigued me. I thought to myself, "What if I could somehow find a way to meet that maximum?" Surely, it would make me a king among the common masses of this website! Rumors would spread like wildfire of the man who had taken the time to type a one hundred thousand character bio! And I was not to use any cheeky tactics either. No copying and pasting, no images, no gibberish speak, merely me, taking the time out of my weekend to sit down and type a bio that was one hundred thousand words long! I decided at once to begin the journey and from there... Well, you know what happened from there. You've been reading it all, after all... Haven't you? You certainly weren't scrolling mindlessly through this masterfully created bio instead of taking the time to read and appreciate each carefully chosen word... Were you? *gasp* You weren't? How dare you! I take the precious time out of my day, nay, out of my week, to craft you a bio, a story, and you, with your absentmindedly scrolling fingers and your careless attitude, truly believe that you could scroll through this bio, perhaps check the end for some hidden secret and somehow avoid the full power of my rage? Oh, I'm sorry? Am I being too violent? Too aggressive? Too angry? <span class="bb-b">You haven't even seen me angry!!!</span><br>...oh my. I'm so sorry. That truly was uncalled for. Can you... can you forgive me? Please? Oh, you will? Thank you, thank you so much! I'll make up for the mistake I've made, I promise! I'm just... shocked at what happened back there. Oh my, I'm starting to wonder if the pressure of such a large order is starting to get to me. Just look at me! Not only am I expecting myself to type out a 100,000 character essay, but now, you are too! Oh, don't try and deny it! After reading all of this waste of time, you know that you will only feel satisfied if I manage to somehow crank out 100,000 characters! Otherwise, such an endeavor would be merely pointless! There's got to be some way to appease both you and myself, some way for both of us to truly feel... happy.<br>Wait. I think I just had an idea. I know this is going to sound crazy, but just hear me out. What if I type one hundred thousand characters... but I don't? Perhaps, I could write every last character in 5,000 character segments like this? That way, eventually I will have a 100,000 word bio and not go insane. Does that sound good? Great! In that case, <span class="bb-b">FIRST SEGMENT COMPLETE!</span></div>
