Stopsignal's News

Drawing.

2017-01-08 04:26:13 by Stopsignal

Never stopped, never will stop!

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Have a build of the game!

2016-06-26 17:14:14 by Stopsignal
Updated

I felt as i should upload a build of the game for now!


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TV SHOOTS BADDIES

 

It's just a small game i'm working on! For now only the "STORY" and the first "ARCADE" modes are really polished enough to be playable, (the first arcade mode being the first icon on left) and the other stuff is just concepts that i have to polish. 

ARCADE is kinda hardcore, so you should check the STORY mode if you are a first timer.

Some stuff:

-The two arenas next to the arcade arena are completely unfinished stuff, sorry!
-As is the next level after you beat the red boss. Also the red boss is really stupid.
-Particles showing up when you pause are something youll have to bear with for now, as who knows if i will be adding more particles, or even delete them, so for now i'll just let them stay there until i am finished with them!

 

Try it, if you can! You'll make me happy!

And even happier if you actually review stuff here! Specially if you found bugs or have cool ideas.

Happy TVeing!

 

 

:No installation required!

http://www.mediafire.com/download/9crq1pa0dtgeqbw/TVShootsBaddies+0.5.1.exe

 

 


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First time grabbing game maker, and it's so pretty i can't stop using it! So, i am making a project with it.

It will be a little bullet hell game, with bosses and levels and stuff. It won't be a large game, but it's without doubt a game that i am putting love into.

It will be really fun! Enjoy the screens for now.

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2014-09-19 17:05:21 by Stopsignal

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Writing: The Second Wind.

2014-04-27 15:25:25 by Stopsignal

Other tale. This time, the human's view.


Second Wind

 

Lots of dark figures were standing out of the Second Wind building. With their arms on the air, they were yelling at the windows. Guards could merely stop them: they were hundreds. Some were obviously angered: their faces were red and their voices were loud. Others, were sad: crying people, men, women and kids, with shadows on their looks. The moon was illuminating their silhouettes while they were trying to enter the building.

 

The man took the hand of his son, but he could not make him stop looking from the windows. Being at the other side of the problem made anybody feel guilty and useless. He could not stop looking from the windows either, he was really nervous.

 

The kid looked at him and asked the question.

“Why aren’t mommy and my sister coming with us?”

 

The tall person tried to hide the truth.

“They will come later, the thing is that mommy has to do some things for work, and your sister will make her company. We will see them later”

 

He could not avoid to remember the last time he saw her. It was a farewell without any words.

 

But a loud noise woke him up. He took a gaze through the windows: a person was shooting to the air. Was the shooter really wanting to enter the building in that way? But, who knows, maybe he would have tried the same thing, just to make his family be safe from the war.

 

The guards quickly incapacitated the shooter, and then one pointed the gun to his head. People were running from the scene, screaming, yelling; and then he realized that his kid was staring at the window. He tried to make him look away, but he was late, the loud revolver sound was faster than his hands covering the kid’s eyes.

 

The shooter was standing there for a few seconds, and then he fell to the ground. Blood started flowing, and the moonlight reflected on it.

 

His son could not apart his eyes from it, and slowly started to cry, in silence.

“Why… why that happened? Why did they kill him? said. The father took him from the arm and pulled him away from the big blue window.

 

“He was going to die anyways...” the tall man said to himself. “The point is that he did not had to see it, we all did not had to see it”. But his son did. And he was not going to forget it.

 

Would his wife and daughter die in a more peaceful way? Because it was obvious that they were not going to survive the war. Why they had to choose him and not her? Why this had to happen to him? He tried to change his ticket for one for his daughter, but they did not let him.

 

“She was not chosen. We won’t change your ticket. If you don’t want to go, then stay here.”

 

His son stopped crying, but he was crying now. He had to cry, he felt like if he really did, but he had to be strong in front of his little son. He continued remembering.

 

He remembered a time even before, when the letter came through the door. They were waiting for it long ago, and at the same time, they hoped it’d never appear. But it did.

 

He started to read… It said information about the SW project, about the war and the chances, about the tests they’ve already taken and about the fact that , in a bad situation (like the one the world was), it was the only way to survive. Then, it had a list with the names of the approved people of the house. His name, and his son’s name. No more. His wife was looking at him in the eyes, trying to decipher what he was reading. She realized that they were not lucky. She cried all night, and they were both devastated.

 

But they did not tell anything to their kids, they should still have hope, and be strong. He said that he would look for a way to change their tickets, so both kids would be saved.

 

Then, someone took him to reality by yelling: “Hey, approved travellers, to the ship!”

 

The persons in the main hall of the building stared at the guard, and slowly started to move to the back of the building, where the rocket ship was. The one that would rip them apart from their families and loved ones, from their world and from their dreams.

 

“Welcome to the Second Wind project.”


I hope you liked it. Remember to comment! Making better writers is soemthing you must! :)



Another tale! Hope you like it. Crows do.


 

Light

 

He accommodated his crow mask. His face was already disfigured because of that damn thing. But he could not take it off: he’d die from the really polluted air in the Caverns. He covered himself with the cloak, and lifted the hood. Everything was dark, but he was used to the darkness. He was born in the darkness. And in the darkness he was going to die.

 

He took his revolver. The books pray that this weapon made them slaughter his enemies in massacres back in the day, but now it was just used to kill his brothers. But he had to, or the next corpse rotting in the darkness would be him. He leaves the dusty and ruined house to get something to eat. He could not eat the other day, someone stole his food. Neither he could the day before: the same crow stole the bat. Four hours trying to kill it, just to be stolen by another person. Life has it’s injustice. But today it would not. He grabbed a rock, a heavy rock from the ruins, and putted it inside his bag. This one was the bag were he always saved his food. This was the bag that was opened, every day, by the robber crow. Breathing heavily, he walked with his old body towards the spot he always slept, to wait for the strange figure. He asked himself why he was never killed before, even if some people knew that he lived there. Maybe he was not worth it.

 

He dropped his body on the floor, and placed the bag next to him, while, inside his cloak, he grabbed his revolver firmly. Adrenaline was flushing through him. Then, he tried to be the quietest he could. Two hours, maybe three. But the intruder appeared. It was a kid. A little kid. Maybe he had eleven years. Really slowly, and the quietest he could, the kid started approaching the black bag. The ruins of the destroyed house were not an impediment for his talent to sneak without making any sound.

 

The old man, the old crow, was having a mental crysis. Killing him? Letting him live? It was just a little crow. His mask was still too big for him. He was going to stand up and talk to him, when he saw the kid opening the bag and remembered why he was there, and why he survived so long.

 

It was not only for the clean and precise shots he did (He may only used the revolver three times in his whole life, why to lose bullets, that were really difficult to find?) but because he never left something undone.

 

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me… fool me three times…

 

The shot was not clean. The shot was not precise. The shot entered through his eye, ripped the skin, left a huge pool of blood behind. With a strange fascination, the old man saw the kids body. The crow mask was almost destroyed. As every crow knows,  he should have took off his mask after he killed him. But he had no strength to do that, knowing that it was just a child…

But now it was a corpse. A corpse full of meat. Delicious meat.

 

When he was grabbing his knife to start, someone goes running.

“Oh, old man!” the young crow cried. He should have only twenty years, maybe thirty. No one knows while you use a mask.

 

“They opened it, they finally did!” the man said. Then, he looked at the kid in the floor, and the bloodshed. He stared at the knife for a few seconds, before saying “I… i need to tell everyone else. They told me to… to do it. Good… good luck. Try to not be late to the opening.”

 

The old crow thought that the poor man would die in little time: the crows have no faith in each other, and they may attack him just for having a cloak bigger than theirs.

 

But the opening was real? Did the Miners finally opened the city’s exit? So it was all real, after all. The books did not lied. There was an Outside World.

 

He looked at his hand, covered in blood. “What did i do…” he thought. “That is bad luck, kid… you could have lived if you let the man come before you…”

 

Even if he was hungry and tired, he started walking, slowly, towards the Cavern’s exit. It was all dark. If this was a trap, he did not really care anymore. He was too old for fighting in the ruins. Too old for hunting in the ruins. Too old for watching his back on the ruins. If someone has to kill him now to steal the little things he had, “please,” he begged, “do it now”.

 

The congregation of crows quickly teared apart his insecurity. They were all staring at something. He melted with the crowd, and advanced. Then he saw it.

 

This could not be real. This can’t be happening. He did not felt happiness, he felt really, but really scared. They were all staring at a hole in the wall. But not any hole: a white hole. From it, light was making it’s way in, and just looking at it with his dark born eyes was making him burn. Too bright. He could not take the sight away from it. His eyes… were feeling weird. He could feel his iris shrinking. Too bright. He could feel his eyes being blinded. Too bright… He could feel his sight becoming blurry… too bright…

The Gods themselves were there. Whatever he was looking at, it was not made to be seen by the crows. It was light… it was… The Outside.

 


Say what you think. A review could help me write more and better.

 

 


Writing: Birds of the Forest

2014-04-10 20:06:54 by Stopsignal

This is my second favourite piece, wich actually depressed me after i finished it. It's ok to play with feeling while you write, but maybe i am not ready to experiment so far.


 

Birds of the Forest

 

The larimyo* was walking slowly. The noise its legs made while it walked reminded him of the good times. When everything was peaceful and normal. When merchants did not travelled with metal blades. When fear could not be smelled.

 

But he perfectly could. And so did his daughter, riding another larimyo in front of her. She was holding her spear steady, ready for anything that could appear  from the sides.

 

The entire caravan was smelling it too. Merchants, travelers, people looking for a better life.

Even some mercenaries were there, but nothing that could ensure their safety.

 

The orange skies became while the dawn fell upon them. The people continued walking, trying to ignore the shadows the trees made at the dark forests next to them.

 

They started to burn some torches, to give light to the black path where they were travelling.

 

His daughter called him.

 

“Dad? what are you thinking so hardly?”

 

He looked at her. His only reason to exist, his more valuable treasure. When the mother died, she was the one to take care of him, while he took care of her. She was already a woman, but for him, she was still his little honey bear.  

But he had to stop dreaming awake, and so he did.

 

“It’s dark. We should not be with torches… we should be darker than Mana. You remember…  the st-”

 

“The stories of the birdmen*. Yes, i know them. But you seriously think they are real? You know, you never believed in this stuff, in the rumours…”

 

“You never believe in anything until you are in a situation that makes you do so, princess… We already passed the pile of burning corpses in the morning…”

 

The odor bothered their noses for kilometers until they found out where it was coming from. In a part of the path, deep into the trees, there was a lot of smoke. Some mercenaries gathered up and went to investigate. Half hour later, they came out and told the story. Other people actually went to check the story. Only to find out that it was very recent.

 

But now it was dark. And it could become their turn any time  if they did not took the precautions needed.

 

“It will be ok, old man! Take my word” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. Then she advanced and he lost her.

 

The night came.

And the dark came to stay. The shadows were everywhere. He starting to feel tired. Tired… sleep… He was falling asleep on his ride, letting his eyes close… he could not watch much stuff anyways, the torches burned out. Only a little orange glow was letting be seen, accompanied by thin smoke. Just animal noises… little birds in the dark… maybe a scream from a creature being attacked by a predator… No. That scream was human. He incorporated on the biped being. It looked like he was really far from the last traveller of the caravan. The merchant hurried the larimyo to catch up and see what the screams were. But he already knew.

 

“My honey bear!” he remembered, and started to search for his daughter with the sight. But he was old, and his age made his sight the worst of his senses.

 

“I hear a fight”

 

More screams.

 

“I hear swords”

 

Louder pain.

 

“I hear… her”

 

Then, some strong hands took him and threw him to the floor. The impact was severe, and he coughed up blood. His back was feeling pain in a way it never felt before. Then, something cold and different pierced through his stomach.

 

People say death is cold, but he only could feel the warm blood flowing on his chest. He stared at his attacker. An anthropomorphic bird. Black eyes… black mask… it looked like a crow. An old human crow with lust for blood.

 

The creature took the knife from his stomach and stood up, letting him slowly die in the dirt. The noises were becoming every time quieter, slower… but a noise was heard louder than others. Dust. Dust covered his face, and he turned his head to the left. A larimyo fell, with his rider still on it. But it was not any rider.

 

“Dad!” cried his daughter. Tears were falling from her eyes.

 

He took sight of someone behind her. Another creature. He lifted his arm, and tried to talk to her, to tell her to escape… but he couldn’t. He was not fast enough. And he had to see the worst thing in his life.

 

 


Language:

Larimyo- Basically a bipedal creature that is used as horses.

Birdmen- There is a really early concept of a Birdmen (A.K.A Lost) at my drawings, i dare you to find it.

 

Larimyo:

Larimyo Image


Scyth Abyss

2014-04-05 14:00:05 by Stopsignal

Well, i will start posting the stories here.

 

First, a little story explaining where all the stories will be.


Lao’ss.

 

Lost in the vast voids of Infinite, a magical place opens its doors to anyone who enters. The gigantic island, covered with culture, splashed with mystery, and decorated with nature. A race of people stand in these ancestral lands. With magical hands, they create elements that help them survive the strange creatures of the forests. The Gods watch above them, and their wars help to guide the Lao’ssians lives. Crystal domes surround the cities and divide wilderness from society. They are struggling to keep going forward, in a place where the damned that don’t understand the rules are doomed to a painful death. In these lands no one lives peacefully. In these lands no one is saved from the curse of sadness and destruction. In these lands where Gods describe everyone’s faith, all will suffer to follow the strings of life.


With that story you will know that all the ones coming up will be weird as fudge.

Let me continue with one of the stories that i like most:


Scyth Abyss

 

They always thought she’d not make it. They thought she was weak. That she could not explore the vast cursed lands. The Scyth abyss. Even if she tried, she could not have described how huge, and incredible deep it is. The abyss was formed by rock platforms that had some incredible pits between them. Colossally long trees  connected some of the platforms by having it’s roots on the sides of them, while basically creating natural bridges, to be able to walk over the dark death that meant falling to the cracks, between the platforms. No one ever made it out of them alive.

 

Sunlight still bathed her body. Light was really powerful up there, in the platforms, making everything look surreal. But when she tried to see the bottom from the platforms, she could only see the dark. No one knows how the abyss looked like or what was hidden there.

 

The cold wind, loud, was still blowing really strong when she decided to start the exploration of the cursed void. The only sound that could be heard, apart from the air, was the one of her steps in the rock. The adventurer tied the leather rope to a tree, and began going down.

 

The air clearly started to become more humid the more she went down, while the horizontal trees became more sparse. She could have swore she was hearing water flowing. Some mosquitoes began to fly around her. The explorer was expecting that, so she took a bag full of a mix of leaves from her backpack, with an incredible smell, and the insects quickly flew away. She continued descending. It was really dark now. She could almost not see the rope, but she knew it was there. The long rope took months to be made, even if the people said she was being too paranoid. She knew that the rope should be really long. Longer than any other made before. Longer than the great Wall surrounding the god’s place.

 

The first red eye she saw was when she already made 2 hours of descent. But it did not harm her. It was only one eye. The Scythios, small creatures that looked like reptiles, but without the upper part of their heads, and a single, creepy, humid glowing red eye in the middle of their necks. When she passed near a tree while going down, she could see a Scythio closely. They were made to live in the abyss. They took the name from the abyss’s name. Their legs (two, to be exactly) had some large dinosaur like claws, that it used to stick to the abyss’s walls and not falling. His head, that was basically only the lower mandible, was leaving exposed his tongue and throat. The tongue was incredibly muscular, and it was used by the creature to eat insects from a distance, in the similar fashion a chameleon does. It’s long tail was another important component, because it was used to grab the different rocks that were exposed in the “walls”.

 

The Scythio looked at her, with its head on the air, pointing upwards, to focus its sight on her face. It did not look pleased to find a Laossian. She stared at it, contemplating its horrid beauty. The being crouched, lifted its head once  more and begin to scream. It was a human scream. It sounded like the cry of a woman, and in the middle of the enclosing dark of the place, it was really horrifying. The adventurer started to panic: she did not saw that coming. But now another scream joined the first one. And another. And another. There was a point where she asked herself if all the time there was silence or it all was just a lie. The screams, the cries, the loud and scary mermaid songs stopped suddenly. The Scythio looked back. She could not saw it clearly, but she thought so, because she stopped seeing the red eye. Then, from very far, from the bottom of the place, another roars were heard, but this were not the woman screams. This were much louder and definitely from a completely different creature. The scream started to be louder and louder: whatever thing it was moving in the middle of the dark, it was getting close.

 

The woman started to be horrified by everything, but she had to touch the bottom so, in a desperate attempt to do so, the took some rags she had on her backpack, wrapped her hands in them (even if it was really difficult to do so, because she had to be careful with not letting the rope go) and when she was prepared, she stopped grabbing the rope and started sliding with it.

 

Five minutes later, she was still sliding until she had a thought: What would happen if the rope was not long enough?

 

Desperately, she tried to stop, but it was really late. She tried to let go the rags to grab the rope more firmly, and then she slowly started to stop. Really slowly. Her hands were burning. The pain was incredibly intense. She was still descending really quick, she could not see it, but she could feel it. Grabbing the rope with all her strength, while her skin was being ripped from her hands, while tearing, while hearing the every time more distant roar, while feeling the worst pain she had in her life.

 

Suddenly, she felt like if the rope was not there anymore. She felt like floating, in the dark abyss. She felt forgotten. She felt helpless. I am dead? She asked to herself.

 

This happened in a matter of seconds. But the cold, humid rock brought her back to reality. The crack was really loud. Her leg… no… her leg and her arm. She could feel the pain all over her body. She touched the rock. There was water in the floor. No, it was not water. It was her blood. No… it could not be. She could not die. This could not be happening, it’s only a nightmare, it’s only a nightmare.

 

Then she felt it. She was not alone there. The creature… the creature is here. The roar…

 

She heard of it before. The Scythiackuss. It could only be that creature.

 

To confirm her thoughts, three red eyes opened in front of her.

She prayed to the gods, to give her a quick death, and closed her eyes.

 


Scythio and Scythiackuss

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So, if anyone ever asked about me (And i seriously doubt that) i am still alive, but i have serious problems with computers that don't let me draw on the PC. School is another bad factor, and a lot of stuff more. I am having good times, however. Also i found a passion for writing things.

If you want to check out my stories (i need to say that they are very misterious and weird, it's my style) they are here:

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vPQXSm4egG_0O197ELiTYPCj5aw3Tf6l-I4OrwaOvUk/edit


Out.

2013-11-06 20:34:18 by Stopsignal

It is finally out there.
Please, check it up!

http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/628079

I am glad i could be a part of this, and i need to thank Amaranthus (Savant) for inviting me in particular, and VaguelyWonderful for making the collab, and Cyberdevil because he is so... Cyberdevil. And to all the other animators, for their support. Congratulations everybody.

Thanks!