Let's Read Let's build a city fit for all codexers - The Wagie Cage

[GrafvonMoltke]

If you've got a street that goes up a hill, it's got to be Rue d'Incline.

Not yet, but I am planning on putting a prison on a mountain side. Can we really call a road that leads to a prison incline? Yes, yes we can.

I don't understand why you used me. That looks nothing like me, it doesn't act like me, and I express myself nothing like that.

And I don't drink cappuccino. It's mocha latte, always.

What are you talking about, looks exactly like you

I did try and account for this discrepancy in story. I blame Lutte.

Couldn't you have done this in a GOOD game like SimCity 4?

State five ways that SimCity 4 is better.

We definitely need a Whiners Alley that leads nowhere

Interesting.

At least have the fucking decency to take fullscreen screenshots. My god.

I will take it under advisement.

Thanks for all the love guys! The next chapter's gonna take quite a while because I have some pretty serious plans for it, and as such I'm going to have to give some serious recalibration to my asset list. I do have a small something planned to fill the void, though.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1335402493

I think we all know where this is going.

EDIT: Also I'm putting this in: https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1915726197

Not because it's what I want, but because I know it's what you weebo degenerates do.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

You have two more posts to make this entertaining or I'm going to vote kick.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

You have two more posts to make this entertaining or I'm going to vote kick.

This ain’t ur gaycord, fagit.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

Not off to a good start. One more.

Some ideas to make this shit fun:

Make Maxie a central character.

Make all Maxie loyalists important characters.

Remove all traces of GrafvonMoltke and the others. There's no money to be made there.

As his legal representative and drug dealer keeper awayer I will require you to pay $250 each time Maxie is mentioned or his likeness is used. This is a valuable license, so if you want to hold it then you gotta show it.

Now get to work. Mr. Maxie will be expecting something nice tomorrow.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

Spoiler

You

Spoiler

are

Spoiler

welcome.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

I'm going to save you and cut you some mercy because I found a Chef Boyardee beefaroni way in the back of the cupboard when I thought I had none. I'm in a good mood.

For me to help you, we must approach this with honesty. You don't know what you're doing here. You had some pictures here and wanted to use them. Your plot is asinine, it's nonsensical, and worst of all it's boring. Viewership is down 300% and this is the third episode. What we need is a hard reboot, some radical changes.

Here's what you're going to do: first you're going to delete Cities Skylines off your computer. This game sucks, it looks like shit, and you clearly are at war with your Print Screen key when the time comes for a screenshot. It's inefficient, it's obsolete.

You're going to download SimCity 2000. First you're going to familiarize yourself with the way it works, I expect this will take a limey like you about six days (it'd take me like six minutes but that's neither here nor there) and then you're going to create your first city. It will be named NEO MAX. Maxie will be leader, I will be the best goddamn baseball pitcher and highly accomplished salsa dancer this side of the East, and you can sprinkle in some other Codexians as you see fit.

If a fire starts it's because of Crispy's senile incompetence. Hence him being called Crispy. He burns things to a crisp. Heh. Haha. I'm writing that down.

If alien invasions happen, it's Liberal/Thor Kaufman/Greta/the other treasonous whores that deny their hood roots.

Make Latro a Christ-like figure in the anglo ghetto. He will be a second season antagonist. We call that "foreshadowing" in the business.

Jenkem will be a deranged ratman-like creature that dwells in the sewers. He is kept nourished by the blood and flesh of innocent women and children by his caretaker/male nurse, you, GrafvonMoltke, who has since gone rogue from the Kalin Memorial Hospital after Dr. Citizen rejects your homosexual advances by revealing he is in four marriages with four Russian women models of high social standing. Maybe when you do Jenkem's speech you can stress how he has an absolutely debilitating lisp. I'm thinking something like Danny DeVito as Penguin in Batman Returns, but far uglier and repulsive and less successful.

Yeah, yeah I like that. lights cigarette

Anyways I saved this shit. Now shake my hand.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

Sounds like you've already planned, written and finished your own story. Hope you have luck finding a publisher!

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

Just do it, dickhead. I don't have the willpower for this LPing business. I have a team to pitch for.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

So I've got some time so here's a detailed run down of your points.

Make Maxie a central character.

This is going to happen, but probably not in the way you want.

Make all Maxie loyalists important characters.

Once again, going to happen. But not the way you want.

Remove all traces of GrafvonMoltke and the others. There's no money to be made there.

No.

As his legal representative and drug dealer keeper awayer I will require you to pay $250 each time Maxie is mentioned or his likeness is used. This is a valuable license, so if you want to hold it then you gotta show it.

Go get a job you cheap fuck.

Now get to work. Mr. Maxie will be expecting something nice tomorrow.

Stop pretending you still speak for Maxie.

I'm going to save you and cut you some mercy because I found a Chef Boyardee beefaroni way in the back of the cupboard when I thought I had none. I'm in a good mood.

Shit in, shit out.

For me to help you, we must approach this with honesty. You don't know what you're doing here.

Duh.

Your plot is asinine,

Duh.

it's nonsensical,

Duh.

and worst of all it's boring.

Cool story bro.

Viewership is down 300% and this is the third episode.

Maybe I'll sprinkle it with Maxie vocaroos, sure that'll be a hit.

What we need is a hard reboot, some radical changes.

No.

Here's what you're going to do: first you're going to delete Cities Skylines off your computer. This game sucks, it looks like shit, and you clearly are at war with your Print Screen key when the time comes for a screenshot. It's inefficient, it's obsolete.

No.

You're going to download SimCity 2000. First you're going to familiarize yourself with the way it works, I expect this will take a limey like you about six days (it'd take me like six minutes but that's neither here nor there) and then you're going to create your first city.

No.

It will be named NEO MAX. Maxie will be leader, I will be the best goddamn baseball pitcher and highly accomplished salsa dancer this side of the East, and you can sprinkle in some other Codexians as you see fit.

No.

If a fire starts it's because of Crispy's senile incompetence. Hence him being called Crispy. He burns things to a crisp. Heh. Haha. I'm writing that down.

If alien invasions happen, it's Liberal/Thor Kaufman/Greta/the other treasonous whores that deny their hood roots.

Make Latro a Christ-like figure in the anglo ghetto. He will be a second season antagonist. We call that "foreshadowing" in the business.

Jenkem will be a deranged ratman-like creature that dwells in the sewers. He is kept nourished by the blood and flesh of innocent women and children by his caretaker/male nurse, you, GrafvonMoltke, who has since gone rogue from the Kalin Memorial Hospital after Dr. Citizen rejects your homosexual advances by revealing he is in four marriages with four Russian women models of high social standing. Maybe when you do Jenkem's speech you can stress how he has an absolutely debilitating lisp. I'm thinking something like Danny DeVito as Penguin in Batman Returns, but far uglier and repulsive and less successful.

Christ, Jenkem really triggers you, doesn't he?

Yeah, yeah I like that. lights cigarette

Please don't cream yourself in my thread.

Anyways I saved this shit. Now shake my hand.

Spiders don't have hands.

Just do it, dickhead. I don't have the willpower for this LPing business. I have a team to pitch for.

Your team is dead, just like you'll soon be.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

Your team is dead, just like you'll soon be.

I'd dribble you so hard I'd get me a trading card. ON GOD.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

 

[Malamert]

EDIT: Also I'm putting this in: https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1915726197

Not because it's what I want, but because I know it's what you weebo degenerates do.

BUT CAN YOU LOOK UP THEIR SKIRTS?

 

[The_Sloth_Sleeps]

My only complaint so far is the main characters lack of diversity.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

Chapter Two - Deleted Scene

The Grand Opening of Prosper Park is a great hit, and the party has been going on for a while now. The Mountain Dew had already sold out, and the Doriro's stocks are dangerously low, but nobody seems to mind all that much. The promise of a new day is more than enough for these ships in the night. Also, heroin is plentiful

An awkward figure shuffles back onto the stage.

GrafvonMoltke:
Hello, err, everyone. Hello? Can I just have your attention for one second.

He isn't very good at this. Public speaking has never been his forte.

The crowd slowly quietens down. They listen intently.

GrafvonMoltke:
So there's a need, errrr, for some naming of, erm, our newest avenue.

GrafvonMoltke:
Nobody likes the, um, current name. So-

They've had enough of this already. Get to the bloody point!

GrafvonMoltke:
I wanted to throw it open to you, erm, guys. Democratic choice and all that. Suggestions?

Conveniently unnamed heckler no.1:
Jagged Avenue!

Conveniently unnamed heckler no.2:
Geralt Prospect!

Conveniently unnamed heckler no.3:
Josh Sawyer's Sordid Love Nest!

Conveniently unnamed heckler no.4:
I'm a Jew!

Conveniently John Romero-shaped heckler:
John Romero's about to make you his bitch!

Everyone laughs at the last suggestion. Well, he thinks, the people have spoken.

The next day, it is so decreed.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

zzzzz

 

[baud]

State five ways that SimCity 4 is better.

well, for one there's no ingame twatter at least

 

[ERYFKRAD]

zzzzz

There is no need to be upset.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

BUT CAN YOU LOOK UP THEIR SKIRTS?

I’ve only just realised that in order to get the camera fully to ground level you have to install a camera position mod. It’s loaded and imma check it out this morning. Keep you posted.

My only complaint so far is the main characters lack of diversity.

Wot u talkin' 'bout. The diversity of this story is the diversity of the very codex itself. We've got anglos, kwans, pollacks, brazillian trannies, slavs of all stripes and beaners by the bucketload, and soon we'll get a healthy dollop of Germans and Scandinavians too. Very diverse cast.

well, for one there's no ingame twatter at least

I kinda like the cringy in-game twitter. Very minimalistic way of giving feedback. Also you can very easily just switch it off.

There is no need to be upset.

He'll be even more upset when he sees how he's going to be portrayed.

 

[Generic-Giant-Spider]

I'll sue.

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

I had originally said that I'd get Chapter Three done today, but it looks that it's absolutely nowhere near completion; making a slum look like a slum in sparkly Skylines takes some real work.

In the meantime, I give you a sneak preview of the Battle of Beanertown.

 

[Storyfag]

This is all quality product Herr von Moltke. Keep it up.

Special kudos for your absolutely Faustian interpretation of lukaszek. You're sure that contract for potato power wasn't signed in blood?

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

Sorry for the lack of progress on this guys. A combination of real world commitments, Trudograd's release and the ever-expanding scope of this chapter of the LP have all come together to ensure that this one won't be released anywhere near soon. If the picture before was a teaser, though, consider this a full-on trailer.

Chapter Three Preview - The Battle of Beanertown

Spoiler

Sunday, 21st of September, 2042. St. Proverbius Church, between Globohomo Central and the dilapidated shacks and shanties known as Beanertown.

In the tropical heat of New Codexia, a modestly-sized church sits nestled between pretty suburban houses and a small shopping precinct. Its spires and steeples point triumphantly outward into the sky, as if to reach up to God himself in his heavenly realm. It's the Lord's day, almost lunchtime. As life buzzes around the church, the people coming and going, a congregation gathered within its walls hums its own tune.

The church is alive with the sounds of holy scripture: a fiery sermon delivered by the Padre himself. The people packed in amongst the cramped pews listen attentively, hanging on the preacher's every word.

Father Pedro, the conveniently un-avatared priest:
God? What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us. Just a stranger on the bus. Tryin' to make his way home?

The crowd murmurs its approval. At the back of the room, a cloaked woman starts chanting, swaying back and forth.

Father Pedro, the conveniently un-avatared priest:
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers. Just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care. Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.

The message reaches the huddled masses squeezed within the crowded aisles like a warm glove greets a shivering hand on a cold Irkutskian morning. The crowd is a mish-mash of various groups, most of whom live in the slums to the west rather than the cosy detached houses to the east. Slavs, Brazilians, Mexicans. The downtrodden peoples of Codexia.

Despite the preacher's invigorating words, he sweats profusely under his clergical garments, looking down at the freshly-printed piece of paper lying on the pulpit's lectern. Thank God nobody has noticed that he has been reciting nothing but song lyrics for the last twenty minutes.

Father Pedro, the conveniently un-avatared priest:
Lord give me a sign. I really need to talk to you Lord. Since the last time we talked the work has been hard. Now I know you haven't left me.

Father Pedro, a kind yet somewhat clueless man, is not the regular priest at St. Proverbius. Most of his time as a junior priest at the church has so far been spent fetching water for the regular priest, Father Fluent, and the occasional charity drive down amongst the poor of the eyesore to the west. When Father Fluent was called away last moment on "business", the responsibility for Sunday service naturally fell to the junior priest, even though he had no practical experience of doing so.

His first step was to go to google.

Father Pedro, the conveniently un-avatared priest:
You are the strength that keeps me walking. You are the hope that keeps me trusting. You are the light to my soul. You are my purpose. You're everything.

Still, no-one seems to mind too much. The assorted slavs and favella-dwellers don't speak English as their first language, and not many of those in the crowd seem to recognise the lyrics. Some don't understand anything at all.

Father Pedro, the conveniently un-avatared priest:
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold and she's buying a stairway-

The heavy wooden doors at the church's main entrance suddenly swing inward violently, as if slammed open by God himself. The assorted band of rag-tag rogues and killers that now stands in the doorway certainly haven't been sent by God, or by any other divine entity.

Conveniently un-named gangbanger no.1:
Ey, holmes. Check out these chingados.

The gang of vatos saunters slowly, menacingly, into the church. These bad hombres are all armed to the teeth with automatic weaponry, and their eyes glisten with malicious intent. Red-turbans rest snugly on their bald heads. A number of them grab their crotches provokingly. The female parishioners blush and turn away silently.

Conveniently un-named gangbanger no.2:
Do me a solid, lady. Give this a good tug for me.

The gangbanger snarls as he passes one especially unfortunate female. She looks down at the floor, defeated.

As they make their way up to the pulpit, it becomes clear that these guys are in charge now. The new law around these parts. Whoever was in charge before is now no longer in this position.

One especially malevolent delinquent from this posse licks his lips, looking pretty loco. He steps in front of the pulpit, addressing the utterly bewildered Father Pedro. He is by now completely flabbergasted, staying absolutely silent as he is unable to process the events unfolding before him.

The loco one speaks.

Latro:
Latro, baby!

He extends his arms out wide, as if to greet the preacher as a treacherous brother. His arms outstretched, his eyes are full of the vision of Christ.

A man in a trucker's hat and a windbreaker barges to the front of the crowd, intent on confronting the man.

Conveniently un-named parishioner no.1:
You fellas can't barge in here. This ain't bean person of colour heaven.

One of the bad hombres blows his shoulder apart with a warm embrace of 12 gauge buckshot. It seems to the congregation as if the hombre never took his hand off his crotch the whole time.

The loco vato ascends the stairs to the top of the pulpit, pushing poor Father Pedro out and down the stairs as he goes. He lands at the bottom with a dull thump. His backside will surely be sore tomorrow.

The red-turbaned hombre addresses the crowd.

Latro:
Chicanos i chicanas, you listen to this white boi too long. He fills your head with poison, and you get soft, hombres.

The crowd gasps as one of the eses grabs Father Pedro by his hair, using his kalashnikov as a pointer to indicate that he is indeed the source of the moral rot inside their heads.

Latro:
The LOS ALDOLPHOS run this town now. The casas and the slums, they all belong to us now, chingados. Anyone who don't agree, end up like that white boi over there.

He gestures in the direction of the twitching corpse of the man in the trucker hat, dead from blood loss.

Latro:
Let all them know who's the boss. Let our names ring in the city streets! Vamonos, muchachos!

The gangbangers round up the mass of congregants, sending them back to their hovels and homes. Father Pedro, not so fortunately, is chained ad loaded into the back of a surplus Mexican army truck.

The loco one, remaining in the church, stares up at the statue of Christ, crosses himself, and leaves with the others.

The Los Adolphos run things in Beanertown now.

 

[Rean]

Awesome!

 

[GrafvonMoltke]

So three weeks ago I promised Chapter Three to you guys. Sadly, it didn't happen, mostly because it's gonna be absolutely HUGE. So, I've decided to split Chapter Three into two parts and release Part One today. Yes that's right, TODAY!!!!

GET HYAEP YOU GOYZ!