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Someone else is quite welcome to have their own "Golden Raspberries" awards,

Ooh, ooh, me sir, pick me sir! I'll take that as a challenge. Between now and janurary (when I plan to begin my new awards) I shall think of the  most unprofessional, silly, jokey, and puerile awards ceremony, dedicated solely to the humourous side of AGS games. Some awards off the top of my head-

Most Comedy (intentional)
Most Comedy (unintentional)
Least comedy in a comedy game.
Least proffessional from a proffesional

etc, etc.

And none of the awards will appear in the database, nor harm the AGS awards' good name, to boot.

[Ninth fortnightly writing competition]

We had a good turnout last time, let's hope this trend continues with the Ninth fortnightly writing competition.

This bimonthly's theme is:

      The worst job in the world

Winners Announced!

1^st Is rock_chick

Joint 2^nd Are Obi and Krayy

rock_chick, go ahead and start the new competition.

Thanks guys!

I know it's not really my job, seeing as this is olaf's competition, but I'll just leave these here:



Quick 5 min job in paint, enjoy.

[Beneath a steel sky.]

I don't need an extension, just finished-

Beneath a steel sky.

Daniel Hurton

     Steve Coopers stared up at the blank ceiling, sighed once, and looked down, resting his head in his knees. It was completely dark that night, save for the thin, pale strip of light descending from the moon into the window. Steve silently asked himself what happened to him. Climbing on to the hard bunk with a thin matress, he uncomfortably lied there for several minutes, and waited for sleep to take him.
     What had happened was awful. Steve could think of nothing else throughout the day, the only thing ever on his mind were the events two months ago. He naively believed that he would be safe within his sleep, expecting to be freed from the hellish visions he constantly re-lived during the day, but alas, no. Sleep brought dreams, dreams became nightmares, nightmares of the most terrifying things that Steve had ever experienced. What was the worst of it? he asked himself. The worst of it was, every night he woke up screaming and sweating,horrified to the point of wetting the bed. He was ashamed of himself, and there was nothing he could ever do about it. Looking at his room's cold, steel walls, he knew people could hear him. He screamed himself hoarse, and all that he got was a brief pair of eyes, darting through the slot in the door, to see if he was sick, dying, or dead. This was the worst of it. There were people, people who knew what he was going through, and they didn't care.
     After a month in the place, he'd forgotten how he got there. He knew why- because of what happened, the deaths, the fire, the slaughter and the demons. But he didn't know how he got there. All he remembers know is what happened, and waking up in his room, with his head shaved bald and nothing but what looked like gray pyjamas to wear. The room itself was like a prison cell, only much smaller, with an inch-thick matress, a thin, itchy sheet for a bed, no electrics, not even a sole lightbulb, a tiny barred window, which only let in a sliver of light, a toilet (actually a bucket), and steel. There was always steel. The walls were steel, ice cold to the touch, the floors were steel, which pained Steven's bare feet as he trod across it, pacing the 6'x6'x6' cell. Strangely though, what bothered Steven the most - the ceiling was steel.
     As Steven woke again from his sleep to beads of sweat falling off his nose, having once again relived the demonic images, bloody, disgusting scenes and foul creatures he saw two months ago, he stared blankly at the metal ceiling. The angle of the window prevented Steven from seeing the stars. Some nights, before what happened, he would just sit outside and stare upwards, into space. During the day, he would gaze up at the clouds, happy in the knowledge that he was free- with no ties, and not bound by anyone, or anything. Then it all changed. He was put through the most violent day of his life, and just as he was beginning to recover, was imprisoned. He was no longer free, no longer able to do what he wanted. It had been six weeks since he had seen the sky. The nearest thing to sky he got now was the grey, dull, imprisoning ceiling. Steven began to cry, terrrified at the thought that he was forever trapped...
     Beneath a steel sky.

Wow, five entries so far, and one more promised from Jack... this looks good!

Does anyone other than Jack need more time? DanielH? TwinMoon? Akatosh? Anyone?

Damn! Lost track of time. Give me a day, I'll get it done tomorrow.

Disregard that, see below.

How big is the file exactly?

A large-ish 698 Mb. I couldn't download it at all last night, too many others downloading slows it down.

(apologises for double post in advance)

Bump for Update! The whole site was being redesigned, THAT'S why it was down Download it! DO IT.

Here!

I'm 99% percent sure they won't bother to do an English version soon, like that zak fangame.

The release has english subtitles, but they swore they'd release an english voice add-on pack some time after the main release... dunno, maybe they won't. I wouldn't mind that much though, as long as It's got the subtitles. It's not like it's a bad thing, at least it has english subtitles, they could have just released a german game.

EDIT: Meant to say, the download isn't on the site yet, but yesterday (from what I could decipher on the forums My german is non-existant) They maintained that today is the day, probably in the evening.

Me too... The site has gone down since I posted. Weird...

Clicky Linky

Here instead.

So... eight years' work culminating into today. I know it's not AGS, but is anyone else camping out waiting for the download?

[Never leave the character standing]

I vote for this thread to be stickied.

Never leave the character standing
Always have a clue to help them onto the next step, never let the Player ask himself
'Well I've done that, now what? Nothing is happening!'
Sublty lead the Plaer onto the next puzzle.

Fantastic to hear of a new Nelly Cootalot game, the only criticism I have is again, the black lines, and the character design. I like the faux 3d effect, but I much prefered Nelly in her old design (long faded pink dress, black frills, hair down) to the new design, maybe that's just me.

*Reserved For entry*

Hmmm.... 3d to 2d point 'n' click conversion.....

SOMEONE MUST DO THIS TO MONKEY ISLAND 4, FOR GREAT JUSTICE.

[SIX BLOODY YEARS AGO!!!!]

Don't know about you guys, but I've been waiting for the arrival of Rise of the Hidden Sun since I came to AGS, but it has been vapourware since it went into production SIX BLOODY YEARS AGO!!!! Remaining to this day, lost in the mists of time.

*Nostalgia mode on*

Being a colossal fan of games such as Monkey Island (okay, so I wasn't old enough to experience the games when they first came out, but my brother was, and when I got a chance to crack at the Monkey Island series I was hooked), I enjoyed looking the games up on the interweb (still do, to this day). Perusing through the google results for 'Monkey Island Easter Eggs', I found articles on adventuregamers.com About Rise of the hidden sun. Those articles lead me here. So really, I have Rise of the hidden sun to thank for pairing me with AGS. This was about one-and-a-half years ago, and for a while after finding ROTHS, I realised- this is the Duke nukem Forever of Adventure gaming. Monkey Island 5 is going to come out before this. However, This article written not long ago, confirms that the game is still moving. But, no release date in sight. I'm dissapointed that the game that brought me to AGS is probably never going to be played.

*Nostalgia mode off*

:'(

I think the yellow of the walls is too bright for the scene, a darker, less saturated colour would set the whole 'abandoned' feel better.

[Go Home]

Here goes...

Night.

    It was a Tuesday, and as James worked hard into the night, he glanced at the clock- 21:00.  That instant, his boss, in a cheap suit knocked on his door and announced- 'It's nine, James.  Your shift ended an hour ago.  Go Home' James always was a workaholic.  He put some files back in a drawer, hit the off button on his computer, and casually walked out of the office.  He gave a brief ‘goodbye’ and a wave to the secretary, Sarah, and opened one of the large glass double doors, underneath the huge Wilson & Co. sign, and began the kilometre walk home.  Despite the fact he could take the bus, or his car, or even his bike, James always walked.  He always enjoyed seeing the city at night.  The sky was quite light- despite the sun having long since set, and it was quite warm, despite being the height of winter.  It was always quite bright at night along the streets.  The roads were always busy, so headlamps always filled the road with a yellow-white light.  Lampposts lined the streets in pairs, giving a bright orange colour to the scene, and the buildings, which always had lights in their windows.  Finally, the stars and moon were often glowing upon the city.  This cacophony of lights was always beautiful in James' eyes, after a long day's work, it relaxed him.  Soon after he stepped onto the street, he noticed the lights were different.  Faded somehow, as if the colour was washed out.  He shrugged it off, it was probably just him being tired, he told himself, and continued home. 
    He stopped again, a while later.  He had just noticed, out of the corner of his eye, an entire building’s lights cut.  Must be a power surge, he unconvincingly told himself.  After what felt like walking a marathon, he looked at his watch.  The spindly glow in the dark dials told him midnight.  Midnight?  James asked himself aloud.  He was normally home by half-past nine!  While he was wondering why he was not home yet, he found the answer- he was lost.  A brief survey of his surroundings proved he was in a part of the city he had never been before- but he was sure he knew the city like the back of his hand.  As a disturbing shiver ran down his spine, James collapsed onto a park bench, tired.  Looking out onto the road, James began to notice that there were fewer cars than normal.  Usually, he could expect the road to be packed by motorists to the point of traffic jams during the day, and not a whole lot better at night.  Suddenly, James felt sick, painfully sick.  He looked across the road.  Faintly, under the dim lights of the lampposts, he could see the name of the building across the road- Wilson & Co. James knew the company worked 24/7, so why are all the lights off?  Not only were those, all the lights off, in the whole building, the whole Street, the whole town.  The only way to see was through the amber light of the faded lampposts, and the one or two cars that drove by.  No, he told himself.  Only the lampposts.  Glancing at his watch- 00:30, he realised not a single car had passed for ten minutes.
    Very suddenly, James was immensely tired.  He could barley stand, and fell painfully onto the hard bench.  Barley able to move his suddenly exhausted muscles under his own seemingly immense weight, he began to fall asleep.  Shortly after, though, he used all his strength to tear his body into an upright position.  Out of the corner of the eye, one pair of lampposts flickered, and faded into black.  Incredibly distressed, and terrified, James turned to face the opposite way.  Another pair fell to darkness, and another, a fourth, and a fifth.  Soon, the only light was emanating faintly from the lampposts on the opposite side of the road, and directly above the bench.  The opposite lamppost died, and James was left scared, and paralysed by both fear and tiredness.  As the amber light above him became weaker, it faded to red, and was soon consumed by the ominous black fog of the night.  Tiredness overcame James, and he collapsed asleep, never to wake.

    It was a Tuesday, and as Sarah worked at her desk, she glanced at the clock- 22:00.  Great, she told herself- she can go home.  As she told the boss of her departure, pushed a large door open, and left, she saw a young man in his twenties across the street, in a suit.  She told herself that looks like James, but could not be, and crossed the road.  As a car flew past the bench, its fog lights illuminated James’ face, and Sarah’s worst fears were confirmed.  The police arrived, and a post mortem was performed on the James’ body, but to no avail.  All they could tell was that he died around ten minutes after leaving work that day.  Cause of death- unknown.

I'm ready to upload my Entry! Yay! Does anyone have suggestions for a decent free file upload space? It's just going to be an eyesore written out here. (844 words)