Here we go again. I'm back on a Buffy kick, and given the success of my
previous Sailor Moon, Dragonball, Tenchi Muyo and most importently Buffy fic searches (the exercise was worth it for McGregor's I Am What I Am alone,
especially the commentary version :-)), and given the the huge variety of experience and depth of knowledge of the subject of fanfiction here (and buffy
mentions aplenty), I was hoping for some more suggestions? What in your opinion are the best Buffyverse stories out there? And to make it easier/difficult,
This time with the caveat, Buffy/Xander pre-series seven fics, something I've had hardly any luck in finding. I'll start off with a few for a change.

http://www.geocities.com/melissa_rae.geo/brownie.html - The First Annual Brownie Bake-Off and Rootin' Tootin' Jamboree- by Pete Mellinger - Not a romance as such, but a very sweet B/W/X friendship fic set early seasons, from Joyce's
perspective.

http://archive.shriftweb.org/archive/27/sugarwater.html - Sugar Water - By Saz -
In his mind it had never played out like this. An author's take on Xander's thoughts during the Bronze scene in When She Was Bad. More angst then
Romance, but quite good.

http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memori ... filter=all
- I Am What I Am - m_mcgregor - Easily one of my favourite stories ever from any fandom,
McGregor takes the common 'Halloween' fic and spins it out into one of the most gripping, well written and ... well, GOOD fics I've ever read.
Don't let the 60+ plus chapters and somewhat haphazard organisation throw you, this is a MUST read. There's even a version with DVD-style commentary
where he notes down his thoughts on the story, characters and relationships in both his fic and the show itself that are very illuminating and surprisingly
enjoyable. Despite being Xander-centric, he goes to great lengths to make it believable, focus on how the entire scooby gang is affected and changed and not
wander into SuperXander!(although he admits to missing in one or two scenes:-) ) The plot - During the episode Halloween, Xander chose to dress not as a
Soldier, but as Himself. The spell effects him differently, by turning him into everything he's ever or will ever be. In essence, he remembers his entire
life, including the future, up until his death. Now the teenage bodied Zeppo is suddenly a much older and experienced (but not necessarily mature) man, and
has a chance to help the people he cares about, save some lives, and change the world. But will it be for the better... or worse?

So I was sitting there, thinking about all the Cool Stuff I wanted to do in Fenspace, and not really having a very easy time of it because a lot if it is
already done or too grand a scale or half a dozen other things. I wanted to start off light.

And somehow, this came out.

I'm not sure if I'll continue this -- I'm not sure if it CAN be continued, really, because (not to be all method here) what's his motivation?
-- but if nothing else it's a toe-dipping in the pool and a character/vehicle that can be an extra somewhere. I've got a vehicle write-up in the
works, as well. This is kinda an exploration of an idea I had for a particular quirk re: engine systems, with a healthy dash of 'what if?' thrown in.

So. Thoughts, everyone? I can take it, I'm a big boy.



----------------

Late at night, in the mountains, on a twisty two-lane ill-maintained highway, is not the best time to haul ass and reconsider one's priorities in life.

Actually, the top thought on my mind, as I down-shifted around the bend and gave my underpowered Ford Focus all the gas it would handle, wasn't the
typical "How did I get into this?" or the cliche "Oh my god, I'm going to die!", but rather, "Holy crap, this is at least five
times as exciting as it looks on TV!"

Behind me on the highway roared I-lost-count-how-many Arizona State Patrol cars, lights flashing, sirens howling, the whole nine yards. Any minute now I
expected a second chopper overhead if the police were watching the news tonight and a roadblock somewhere up in front.

"You'd think I *shot* someone," I muttered to myself, taking the second half of the shallow S-bend with much more speed than was recommended
by the SPEED LIMIT 55 sign leaning crooked at the side of the road. The tires chirped and sang briefly, but held, and I slammed the upshift home as I came
out. The wimply little four-banger under the hood was screaming its fool head off, not that I could blame it; despite what the ads imply, or the speedometer
seems to promise, getting a Focus up past 100 is no mean feat. Why *does* the speedometer go to 140? The car'd crap itself well before then...

... if you're using pure hardtech, that is. Lucky me, good ol' Lenny -- Lenny's my car, so named because I noticed that his turn signal blinked
in *perfect* rhythym with the song Freebird -- had just come from a four-day soak in a 'wavium bath. Unfortunately, I hadn't had any time at all to
test the systems, see what did what, that sort of thing... and aside from the nice little fact that my engine hadn't already exploded, I wasn't
noticing much of a change. Did it grip the road a little better, or was that just the brand-new Yokohama's I'd sprung for? Was the exhaust note a bit
deeper, or was that just my imagination? Lots of little details, none of which were helping me in my current predicament any, to wit: I was a wanted man. All
because I wanted to go to space. Those hard-nosed bastards!

Problem was (is?) that getting to space without Handwavium? It's *expensive*. Money and I were well acquainted with each other, but had been on the
outs more often than not; good ol' George wasn't going to solve this one for me by himself, and I didn't have enough of his friends around to make
up the lack. But hey, Handwavium made Wierd Science look like a documentary, even if you only believed half the stories. If I couldn't buy a ride on a
rocket, maybe I could build my own. For whatever reason, I wanted to do it on my own. Somehow it seemed like cheating to just ask around and hitch a ride, as
I'm sure many others had.

Getting the goo should have been the hard part. But I had an 'in', of sorts. A good buddy of mine owed me a very large favor after a night spent
in jail; I'd managed to cover for him with his C.O., which kept him from, at best, a stern talking-to, and at worst, a firing squad. So when a batch of
the stuff was found brewing in some poor geek's basement by the cops (it wasn't the only thing brewing, from what I hear -- you'd think he'd
have known better), they turned it over to the Air Force, all neat and tidy. And Gary managed to spoon a bit into his thermos and sneak it out the gate to
me.

Turning my POS four-door crapmobile into a starcar should have been *cake*, after that. Right?



SHIFTING PERSPECTIVES

A Fenspace Tale

by Sofaspud



I didn't go into this blind. First thing I did was soak up as much info as I could from the 'net -- no mean feat, considering the current
administration's rabid fear of Handwavium in any form. Then I applied a Common Sense filter on what I'd found, throwing out the obvious falsehoods and
exaggerations -- even to my I-want-to-believe mind, some of the stuff was just too over the top -- and came up with The List.

Item 1: I needed a vehicle. Fortunately, cars seemed to be suitable, and there was this rustbucket sitting in my driveway...

Item 2: I needed Stuff: spacesuit-like stuff, sensor-type stuff, air-and-water-tank-type stuff, all that jazz. What I couldn't beg or buy I'd have
to build. Luckily for me, a lifetime spent chasing one hobby after another left me with a garage full of Stuff.

Item 3: I needed Handwavium and a suitable way to apply it to my car. That was the tricky part.

Actually, getting enough 'wavium to do the job wasn't the hard part. The spoonful Gary snagged for me wouldn't go very far. So I fed it. I
tried ramen (of which I had enough to sink the Lusitania, it seemed), but that didn't work so well. I went through other things -- I'd heard somewhere
it liked organic stuff, and sure enough, it did nothing with the gravel I threw in there -- and finally got it to start growing by feeding it, of all things,
the ancient bag of puppy chow that had been sitting in the garage since who-knows-when. I don't even know why I had it -- I must have dog-sat or something
at one point -- because I didn't have a dog. I've got nothing against dogs, I always wanted one, but my schedule had made it impractical. But hey, if
the goo wanted puppy chow, I'd get it puppy chow. Economy-sized bags from Wal-Mart -- nothing but the best for MY 'wavium.

While the goo was growing -- which took a few weeks and some SERIOUS kibble, lemme tell you -- I quit work and converted my meager savings to things I
thought might be valuable Out There. This was going to be an all-or-nothing roll of the dice. If it didn't work... well, I'd probably have had no
choice but to turn myself in and hope the jail cell was comfortable if I wanted to stay off the streets.

Using a battered Chilton's manual and a whole boat-load of burnt fingers, I wired in every gadget I could think of that I could lay hands on. A CB
radio and police-band scanner. My WiFi router. A cheap GPS unit. A laughable attempt at an air system -- a scuba tank and regulator mated to a
vacuum-cleaner-as-filter-unit. My old laptop, loaded down with every bit of useful software I could think of and with a epoxy'd connection to the tape
deck for tunes. You name it. By the time I was done, the dash resembled the aborted miscegenation of a Radio Shack store and a used car dealership.

"Dude, that is one FUUUGLY car," as my neighbor Tony put it, when I borrowed his back to help unload stuff.

When all was said and done, I set up a portable pool in my garage, driving the car into the middle before raising the sides. And then I dumped all the goo
into it, and spent the next four days in hip waders, a gas mask, and rubber gloves, scooping up buckets of the stuff and pouring it on Lenny, just like basting
a ham -- with more than a few hours spent inside slopping it all over THOSE parts, too, and sitting on a lawn chair hand-scrubbing engine components, and so
on. By day four the 'wave level had dropped to the point of near-uselessness, so I pumped what was left back out and into an ice chest for safekeeping,
hosed down the car a bit and sucked up *that* with a wet-vac (now that I think about it... what did the 'wavium do to the vacuum?), and in general cleaned
things up. Aside from being restored to factory condition (it appeared), not much seemed to have changed. Where were the thrusters? Flight controls?
Anti-gravity hubcaps? I mean, I expected *something*, y'know?

So, anyway. How'd all that lead to a merry chase through the hills? Well... you remember Gary? The guy who got me the goo in the first place? He
apparently had an attack of ethic-itis and reported me for illegal Handwavium use. I assume he claimed I stole it or something, I dunno. First I knew of it
was cops busting down my front door without so much as a by-your-leave. It could've been Tony, too, but I don't think he was bright enough to realize
what was going on. Regardless, SOMEone ratted me out.

So I ran. Yeah, I know -- can't outrun Motorola and all that. But I was in the garage anyway, examining the laptop (which seemed to be spending most
of its processor cycles on the "Dogz" screensaver after the goo bath; I was contemplating a reinstall). When a large man with a gun burst in, it
seemed the most appropriate thing in the world to slam the door, start the engine, and floor it.

I had prided myself on my near-perfect driving record and amateur racing awards. Now I could take pride in violating a slew of laws AND every driving
ordinance in the book in record time and at higher speeds than on the track. I drove on lawns. I drove on sidewalks. I drove in reverse down Main Street. I
drove -- briefly -- on an indoor basketball court (thankfully, it had double doors on both ends with no center post!). In short, I drove the cops nuts.

And all the while I was trying every thing I could think of -- "Fly! Flight systems: on! Dynathrusters are go! C'mon, you bastard, FLY!"
It didn't appear as though the 'wave had DONE anything, besides beef up the car a bit. There weren't any cool glowy bits, no freaky lightshow, no
billowing flames from the exhaust, nada. Sure, Lenny stuck to the road like glue, but that was the *problem*: I was after the skies.



I crested a hill and saw the lights of a town peeking through a gap in the mountains ahead. What appeared to be the Annual Highway Patrol Bake Sale and Lynch
Mob was clogging the road, judging by the red and blue parade of lights coming my way. Best guess, I had maybe two minutes before I crashed into their party.
I knew 'wavium had a rep for making things stronger, faster, tougher... but somehow I didn't think plowing head-on into a couple dozen highway patrol
cars would end in anything but tears.

I was pondering how I'd look in prison orange when I spotted a junction. It looked like a fire road -- it was graded, but not paved. It was also the
only way off the highway that I could see, unless I wanted to test my off-road skills on five-foot banks of loose dirt. Lenny was many things, but he
wasn't four-wheel-drive; I slammed a downshift to third, spun the wheel, and muttered a prayer as the tires screeched and the headlights revealed a cow
grate and enough loose gravel to make me wish I'd asked Santa for Superglue-coated tires.

Amazingly, Lenny held the line without much fishtailing. I rattled over the cow grate and down the road, sending a plume of dust billowing behind and
making rocks skip like hail off Lenny's undercarraige. In the rearview mirror I could see the first two cruisers following me, though they were much more
sane about making the turn. Then they were lost in the dust, except for the dull flicker of their lights and of course the howling cacophony of the sirens
that I'd been hearing for the past forty-odd minutes.

Right, then. It was time to lose the cops, or pack it in and go to jail. I put my foot down all the way, taking it past any reasonable speed and all the
way into oh-god-I'm-gonna-die. Lenny seemed to top out at about 130 on the dirt road, which was more than fast enough for me. I was bouncing around like
a bingo ball in the tumbler and seriously considering which direction to aim if my dinner made a bid for freedom. I didn't dare take a hand off the wheel
long enough to roll down the window, so it was a debate between my own lap and the instrument cluster.

There was a dip, which I didn't have time to avoid; the headlights revealed nothing but the other side for a moment, making my heart spasm just a bit,
then we hit the bottom (and Lenny hit his bottom; it was a sharp reversal and he dragged on the ground) and started back up. I had *just* enough time to
register the old and faded "DEAD END" sign at the top of the dip as it flashed past. Then?

Oh, THIS is what Evil Knievel must have felt like, I thought, as the wheels left the ground. The other side of the dip... wasn't. I mean, it was a
canyon, at the bottom of which I thought I could just barely begin to make out a muddy trickle of water in the scant moonlight.

That's about when my brain went on vacation and my body went on autopilot. I was along for the ride, but wasn't behind the wheel, if you get my
drift. The first thing one does when faced with a long drop into certain splattering is tense up. Oh, boy, did I tense up. I tensed up so well that the only
sound coming out of my mouth wasn't audible to human ears, I bet; I know I was screaming, but I couldn't hear it. My hands were firmly clenched on the
wheel, my feet were stapled to the floor. The engine screamed as the load was taken off and the wheels could spin free; the speedometer zoomed to the end of
its arc so hard the pin should have bent. Lenny seemed to hang in midair, turning with agonizing slowness as the greater weight of the engine overbalanced the
car and pitched us straight down. The headlights cut through the dark and revealed a rocky excuse for a canyon floor, with an artistic daubing of sluggish
water for effect.

Then the engine coughed and the tires chirped and caught. Suddenly we were accelerating faster than thirty-two feet per second per second; I screamed again
-- "YYYAAAAAAAAHHHH!!" -- and instinctively pulled back on the wheel, which of course didn't move.

But Lenny did.

It felt like bottoming out of a steep hill -- hell, it behaved like a hill, to the point that Lenny even bounced a bit on his suspension -- and the nose
pitched up and away from the by-now-very-close creek below. The engine chugged and began to stutter; I watched myself downshift, just like you did when
climbing a hill on the ground, and Lenny happily complied, accelerating smoothly up the invisible slope we were climbing and away from the dark ground
below.

Apparently concluding that I would live, my intellect chose this point to return to my body, and I spent the next few minutes in a strange blend of
exhiliration -- hot damn, I was fucking FLYING! -- and twitching, shuddering adrenaline shock -- hot damn, I'd nearly become a Jackson Pollock
painting!

I was still a bit out of it, to say the least. My only sane thought was along the lines of "I shouldn't be driving like this", at which point
I pulled over to the side of the road and braked to a halt. I was *that* close to turning off the engine when something went *click* and I realized that
shutting Lenny off would probably be a Very. Bad. Idea. He didn't seem to mind idling at 300 feet, though, so I left the engine on and put him in
neutral, then spent a few minutes getting my breathing back under control, wiping off sweat, checking for soiled undershorts, that sort of thing. Y'know,
the usual.

I was just getting back to normal when a brilliant shaft of light speared Lenny like a bug and nearly made me fail the underwear check. Belatedly I
realized that hanging around up here, with the lights on and all, was akin to waving a big sign saying "PLEASE ARREST AND/OR SHOOT ME"; sure enough,
the light appeared to be coming from a helicopter, though I couldn't tell if it was a newsbird or the cops -- or the military, for that matter; we
weren't all that far from Davis Monthan AFB, among other places. The chopper swung alongside, keeping that dazzling beam pinned on Lenny, and the rotor
wash did nothing more than make him rock a little from side to side. The the loudspeaker cut in:

"Attention! You in the, uh, flying car! Land immediately! You are under arrest!"

Hoping like hell that Lenny had come out bulletproof, I ignored the chopper for the moment and hunted around on the instrument panel. For some reason
I'd thought I'd be 'cool' and had wired the controls for the various extra bits I'd added into a Knight Rider-style light-up push-button
grid. My stenciling skills weren't up to spec, though; it took me a couple minutes to find the button labeled "SCNR". I pushed it and
immediately winced, turning down the volume on the radio as it erupted into a babble of voices. I waited until it cycled to one that seemed to be between the
helicopter and somebody on the ground, then dialed that in to the C.B., lifted the mic, and crossed my fingers.

Hey, I may not know a lot, but I do know that C.B.'s don't operate on police freqs, okay? I was hoping the stories I'd heard about Handwavium
were true.

Apparently, they were. The C.B. -- a cheap digital Radio Shack model -- accepted the frequency without complaint. I held the push and said, in my best Hey
Mah Ah'm A Trucker voice,

"Nah, I don't think so. I just outran what, twenty? Thirty? of your best... I ain't going down there to give you boys another
chance."

There was an amazing amount of silence for a few moments. Then a new voice cut in:

"Unidentified aircraft, this is Lt. Jameson, USAF. You are in violation of United States airspace. Identify yourself and accept escort to ground or
be fired upon. Be warned that we have you locked. You have thirty seconds to respond."

Well, crap. I craned my neck looking around, but let's face it: the human eye is just not meant for identifying aircraft at night. I considered
engaging in debate with the Air Force pilot -- the cops had dropped a few slots on my Important Things list when the military showed up -- but decided it
probably wasn't worth it. I'd heard the stories. They might not actually fire on me, but then again... I'd rather be moving if they did.

And now that Lenny was up here, there was no way in hell I was just going back down.

"Okay, Lenny... you ready for Round Two?" I said to myself as I flexed my fingers and got ready to move. He didn't respond, of course --
though I imagined an eager note to his engine growl, and smiled to myself.

Then I floored it. The tires screeched and skidded as I peeled out on thin air, and only truly caught as I shifted into second. By third the speedo was
pegged at 140 -- and we were still accelerating uphill at about a forty-degree angle, judging by the seat of my pants. The radio squawked -- Lt. Jameson again
-- but I ignored it and kept the hammer down.

Lenny topped out at just over really-really-fast -- the air howling past his frame was so loud I was starting to worry about bits falling off, or for that
matter, hitting a pigeon or something equally stupid. I hunted around for the dangling altimeter -- I'd scavenged the wristwatch type from a skydiver
friend of mine -- and held it up; I was only a couple thousand feet up at this point. The Air Force jets, wherever they were, were hassling me by radio but so
far hadn't upped the ante as far as I could tell, and the police chopper was way behind and struggling to keep up. I pulled back again and held it until I
felt the tires begin to slip, then pushed back down a bit; we ended up heading for space at about a 70-degree angle, which meant (I did some rough calculations
in my head) I'd pass beyond breathable air in, yikes, really soon. I hit the cruise control button and made sure the windows were all rolled up, then went
hunting for the scuba regulator.

Which was nowhere to be found.

Ah, hell, I'd left it on the bench in the garage. Along with the wetsuit, facemask, and other assorted spacesuit-type Stuff. Sonofa....

Well, there was no help for it. I prayed to the gods of Handwavium -- whoever or whatever they were -- that Lenny was up to the task, and hit the button on
the air conditioner panel that made it recycle cabin air instead of sucking air in from outside. While I was at it I shut off the scanner, but left the C.B.
on -- I didn't care what the cops were saying, and I figured Mr. Air Force would have to give some warning before he fired.

Do you know how pretty it is when you break through clouds on a moonlit night, and they spread out below you like a blanket covering the world?

Soon enough, I'd passed beyond (at least) 30,000 feet, and no ominous hissings or creaking or crackings or groanings were reaching my ears. The air
seemed fine, too. The jets -- two of them, at least -- were having a hard time keeping up with me. Rather, they were having a hard time slowing down with me;
they'd settled on a sort of follow the leader game, with me as the leader and the two of them taking turns coming up behind, blowing past, and looping
around again. Jameson's threats had taken a plaintive note by this point and I was starting to feel a bit sorry for the guy; I just bet you he was going
to get chewed out but good when he landed -- "And you couldn't even stop a FLYING CAR?!?" -- but he was obviously either reluctant to fire or not
allowed to. Thank god. I didn't want to know what a missile would do to Lenny (or me!).

Lessee here, at *least* 200 miles per hour, 50 miles to space -- though I wanted to go farther, of course, but just getting free of Earth's atmosphere
was a wonderful start -- meant... dammit, I should have paid better attention in school. I punched up a calculator on the laptop and plugged in the
numbers.

Well hey, lookit that. A nice relaxing 15 minute drive, or thereabouts.

While I was occupied with that I realized I was violating even MORE laws, because I hadn't even bothered to check to see if I was flying through
commercial air lanes or anything like that. Details, it's always in the details.... Seeing as how there was no way for me to check at this point, I
simply hoped I'd be out of the way and tried not to think about imitating a bug on the windshield of, say, a 747.

Mind you, I'd notice it about as much as the bug -- "Huh? What the-*splat*" -- but there was nothing to be gained from dwelling on it.

Somewhere around 50,000 feet (best guess based on guesstimated speed and time, the altimeter having pegged out at fifteen -- yet another thing I hadn't
thought through fully), Jameson and his wingman broke off, with a final message about not returning to US air space. I was tempted to reply with something
witty, but let the chance pass by on account of not being able to come up with anything witty while I was busy staring at the amazingly clear sky and the stars
winking at me ahead.

After a while I noticed that, while Lenny's engine growl was steady and just as loud as ever, the sound of air screaming by had lessened. It was
growing quieter by the minute, and behind me the Earth was starting to take on a round shape instead of being the only thing visible. I checked the time: just
over 12 minutes from when I'd told the 'copter crew to kiss my ass (figuratively speaking).

At about the eighty-mile mark (and why didn't I think to use the trip odometer? Duh!), Lenny's engine started coughing and sputtering again. I
downshifted -- it seemed the thing to do, based on the engine behavior -- and the tires grabbed again and we accelerated. I didn't know how fast I was
going, but I knew, by the way I was pressed into the seat, that it was a good deal faster than before.

Up ahead, the Moon... and Fenspace.

I'd made it.

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

http://cityofheroes.wikia.com/wiki/Sara ... Task_Force

it's a beast, but.. it's the Shard!

2:30pm EST start time, Sunday
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Figured I'd try something a little different. Behold, the collection thread wherein you post one-offs, shorts, and snippets. Discussion in individual
threads, however.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Doing another reread of the entire manga, and I got to trying to figure out what happened when, especially in the Days of Yore.

ETA: Starting another sweep, beginning mark II. As before, any contributions would be appreciated.

The Diarium Ejis is turning out to be a lifesaver here. Thanks, Nodoka-chan!

------

15th-16th century?

• Evangeline Athanasia Kitty (?) MacDowell born, turned to a vampire at the age of ten
  

• Evangeline's castle built in the "Dark Lands/Continent" (Mundus Magicus? Africa?). The entire area is later moved into a Resort
  bottle.
  

• Founding of Mahora Academy and Library Island.
  

• Evangeline visits Japan for the first time; learns Aikido from the art's creator Morihei Ueshiba
  

• Aisaka Sayo murdered
  

• Nagi Springfield born? (see 1978)
  

• Nagi Springfield wins the MahoraFEST Tournament at the age of ten? ("twenty-five years before," "the same age as his son")
  

• Bellum Schismaticum ongoing in Mundus Magicus (starting date uncertain). Ala Rubra involved in identifying and exposing the manipulators behind the war,
  "Kosmoentelechia."
  

• Late September?: Ala Rubra rescues Asuna from captivity. Bellum Schismaticum brought to an end; Ostia destroyed. Nagi kills Kosmoentelechia's leader
  in an extremely short fight.
  
  
  

• Nagi Springfield passes through the town of Hecates in Mundus Magicus.
  
  
• Ryomen Sukuna no Kami escapes its prison and is resealed by Nagi and the Elder of the Kansai M.A.
  
  
  

• March 17: Zazie Rainyday born
  
  
• April 4: Kasuga Misora born
  
  
• April 21: Alleged birthdate of Kagurazaka Asuna (aka Asuna Vesperina Theotanasia Entheofushia, Royal Princess of the Dusk)
  
  
• May 10: Miyazaki Nodoka born
  
  
• May 12: Yotsuba Satsuki born
  
  
• May 15: Kakizaki Misa born
  
  
• May 26: Okochi Akira born
  
  
• June 1: Akashi Yuna born
  
  
• June 9: Shiina Sakurako born
  
  
• July 5: Yukihio Ayaka born
  
  
• July 14: Hakase Satomi born
  
  
• August 18: Saotome Haruna born
  
  
• October 21: Murakami Natsumi born
  
  
• November 12: Nagase Kaede born
  
  
• November 16: Ayase Yue born
  
  
• November 17: Tatsumiya Mana (Mana Arcana?) born
  
  
• November 21: Izumi Ako born
  
  
• December 1: Chao Lingshen born (allegedly)
  
  
• December 6: Narutaki twins born
  

• Nagi Springfield (known by this point as the Thousand Master) subdues the Dark Evangel, subjecting her to the Infernus Scholasticus curse
  
  
• January 10: Asakura Kazumi born
  
  
• January 17: Sakurazaki Setsuna born
  
  
• January 29: Naba Chizuru born
  
  
• February 2: Hasegawa Chisame born
  
  
• March 3: Kugimiya Madoka born
  
  
• March 7: Sasaki Makie born
  
  
• March 16: Kuu Fei born
  
  
• March 18: Konoe Konoka born
  

• Nov. 25: Birth of Anna Yurievna Kokolova (Anya)
  
  
  

• In Istanbul, Asuna teaches Takamichi the basics of kanka.
  
  
• Nagi Springfield and Fate Averruncus "defeat each other" in Istanbul. Nagi is presumed dead.
  
  
  
• Gateau Vandenberg is killed.
  
  
• Asuna's memory erased; Asuna, Albireo, and Takamichi move to Mahora Academy
  
  
• Takamichi spends several years practicing kanka and martial arts in Eva's Resort, prematurely aging himself. Albireo, apparently injured, becomes
  Librarian of the Island and has not been seen in the flesh since.
  
  
• Birth of Negi Springfield.
  

• Late winter/early spring (Negi is approx. five): Person or persons unknown (presumably Kosmoentelechia) summons Graf Wilhelm Josef von Herrmann and an
  army of lower-ranked demons to attack Nagi Springfield's hometown. All residents save Negi and Nekane are petrified (Anya is away, boarding at
  Meridiana). Nagi appears and destroys most of the army; Wilhelm and the slime sisters are bottled up by Grandpa Stan. Negi and Anya are permanently moved to
  Meridiana in Wales.
  
  
• Negi enters Meridiana Magic Academy, throws himself into study and practice.
  

• Late in the year?: Lingshen Chao enters Mahora Academy; first record of her existence ("two and a half years" with the class before the 2003
  Festival)
  

• January 3: Karakuri Chachamaru assembled.
  
  
• April 1: Karakuri Chachamaru brought online.
  

• August: Negi graduates valedictorian from Meridiana Magic Academy; manga begins.
  

• February (?): Negi arrives at Mahora Academy and becomes English teacher for Mahora Girls School Class 2-A. Hilarity ensues.
  
  
  
• March 30: Headmaster informs Negi of his "final challenge." Near sunset, Negi seals away his magic for three days to avoid temptation. Late
  that night, the Bakarangers +1 Expedition descends into Library Island, discovers the Book of Melchizedek, and runs afoul of a trap that sends them to the
  Illusionary Reading Room in the depths of the complex.
  
  
• March 31-early April 2: Bakaranger Expedition studies hard.
  
  
  
• April 2: Escape from Library Island. Class 2-A takes first place in the finals. Negi is hired as a regular English teacher.
  
  
• Third year of middle school begins; 2-A becomes 3-A.
  
  
  
• Albert Chamomile arrives at Mahora.
  
  
  
• Evangeline attacks Negi.
  
  
• April 20: Shopping for the class trip.
  
  
  
• April 21: Asuna's birthday.
  
  
• April 23: Class Trip day 1. 3-A takes bullet train to Kyoto, visits Kiyomizu Temple; multiple acts of sabotage by Chigusa Amagasaki. Night: Amagasaki
  attempts to kidnap Konoka, assisted by Fate Averrucus's ministra Tsukuyomi; foiled.
  
  
• April 24: 3-A in Nara; Nodoka confesses to Negi; Kazumi discovers Negi's secret and attempts to expose him, fails, is "recruited" by
  Chamo-kun. Night: Operation Lip Scramble; Nodoka makes a Pactio w/Negi.
  
  
  
• April 25: Free Activity day. Negi and Asuna make a run for the Kansai M.A. headquarters, battle Kotaro with Nodoka's assistance. Tsukuyomi attacks
  Setsuna and Konoka at Cinema Village. Afternoon: both groups converge at KMAHQ. Night: Chigusa assaults the estate with the aid of Kotaro, Tsukuyomi, and
  Fate; final battle ensues. Chigusa and Kotaro captured, others escape.
  
  
• April 26: Final day of the trip; visit to Nagi Springfield's house; rest, relaxation, embarrassing photographs. Return to Mahora.
  
  
• April 27 (Sunday, day after return): Negi asks Evangeline to take him on as a disciple. After altercations, Eva puts off her decision until next
  Saturday. Evening: brief love potion incident.
  
  
• April 28: Negi asks Kuu for training in kung fu. Bowling night.
  
  
• April 30, morning: Makie finds Negi practicing kata. Eva takes exception to Negi training under multiple masters, issues challenge for next Sunday.
  
  
• April 30-May 2: Intense training for both Negi and Makie
  
  
  
• May 3, early morning: Disciple test passed. Makie attends rhythmic gymnastics preliminary match, passes. Afternoon: Library Expedition Club discovers
  clue in Nagi's map of the island.
  
  
• May 4, morning: brief expedition to Library Island ends in dragon encounter.
  
  
• May 5: Evangeline's magic training begins; Negi and Asuna quarrel.
  
  
  
• May 8-9?: Vacation at Ayaka's island resort. (Mahora seems to have a longer Golden Week than the rest of Japan.) Team Negi-bozu begins to coalesce.
  
  
  
• Fate releases Wilhelm and the Slime sisters, ordering them to take Negi Springfield out of action. Kotaro Inugami, being held in the same prison
  facility, overhears some of this and escapes as well, aiding Team Negi-bozu in the ensuing battle.
  
  
• June 3: Negi records a letter to Nekane.
  
  
• June 5: Preparations for MahoraFEST 2003 begin. Kotaro transfers into an unspecified school in Mahora.
  
  
• June ?: 3-A decides (after much dithering and silliness) to put on a haunted house for the festival. Sayo's existence revealed over three goofy
  nights.
  
  
  
• June 14: Asuna and aged-up Negi go on a practice date. Hijinks ensue.
  
  
• June 17: Negi begins to schedule time with his students for the festival. Schedule almost immediately becomes physically impossible to fulfill.
  
  
• June 19: Mahora magic teachers recruit Negi for World Tree patrol. Negi "rescues" Chao from the ninja nun brigade, insists on taking
  responsibility for her. Chao gives Negi the Cassiopeia Mk. I. Nightfall: World Tree begins to glow; MahoraFEST 2003 officially begins.
  
  
  
• June 20: MahoraFEST Day One.
  
  
• June 21: MahoraFEST Day Two.
  
  
• June 22: MahoraFEST Day Three.
  
  
  
• Summer vacation (first half): training from hell in the Resort Complex
  
  
• August 9: the ninja-nun squad arrive in Mundus Magicus
  
  
  
• August 12: Ala Alba travel to England
  
  
• August 14: Ala Alba and accidental stowaways transported to Megalomesembria; Fate Averruncus and allied forces destroy all major worldgate complexes; Ala
  Alba etc. are scattered around Mundus Magicus. Yue lands in Ariadne and is immediately cursed with amnesia.
  
  
  
• August 15: Negi and Chachamaru rescue Chisame
  
  
• August 16: Kotaro finds Negi's group; Yue is admitted to the Mage Knight school in Ariadne
  
  
  
• August 19: Eva is bored; Ayaka demonstrates astonishing communication skills w/Zazie; Negi's group arrives in Hecates
  
  
• August 21: Negi's group reaches Granicus, meets Kazumi and Sayo, attempts to rescue Natsumi, Akira, and Ako from debt-slavery; Negi and Kotaro enter
  the Granicus prize-fights; Takamichi and Mana arrive in Megalomesembria shortly before the worldgate decays completely
  
  
• August 22: Negi and Kotaro's first tournament match; Negi announces himself as "Nagi" to the world
  
  
• August 29 : Yuuna and Makie are working as waitressses in Tempe Terra; Negi and Kotaro have won 13 consecutive victories; Jacobus Lacan arrives in
  Granicus
  
  
• August 30: Kagetarou attacks Negi; Negi's right arm is severed in the fight; Lacan intervenes
  
  
• September 1: Negi awakens after reconstructive surgery; letter from Asuna and Setsuna arrives; Tsukuyomi discovers A&S
  
  
  
• September 2: Kazumi, Chachamaru, and Sayo leave Granicus on a round-the-world search mission; Negi begins training under Lacan; Dark Magic is
  discussed
  
  
• September 3: Lacan demonstrates Eva's darkness magic, nearly killing himself
  
  
• September 4: Negi activates Eva's scroll; Nodoka acquires Comptina Daemonia in partnership with a party of
  adventurers; Kaede and Konoka, dragon hunters, meet up with Setsuna and Asuna, likewise
  
  
• September 5: The search party locates Kuu; Granicus group receives mail from search party, dragon hunters, and waitresses
  
  
• September 6: Negi awakens after two days of mental torture combat; Fate Averruncus and associates
  arrive at the ruins of Ostia
  
  
  
• September 9: Nodoka acquires Auris Lectans, leaves adventurers and heads for Ostia; Kazumi recharges Chachamaru;
  Yue is embarrassed; poor Chamo-kun is freezing
  
  
• September 10 (?): Yue and Colette win the Ariadne 100-km broom race
  
  
• September 14 (?): Yue and Colette depart for Ostia; Asuna's group is 40 km west of Ostia, Asuna catches sight of ruined capital
  
  
  
• September 29 (?): scheduled opening of the Ostia Memorial Tournament
  
  
• September 30: Team Negi-bozu battle Team Fate (?) in Ostia; Fate's real name revealed
  
  
  

When I was writing the first draft of 'Boarding Action' I started wondering just what the squads escorts were, and I remembered something I'd seen on Discovery a while back.  The XCOR EZ Rocket, a prototype rocket powered aircraft.  Thus was born the idea for the F-101-EZ.  There's a lot that isn't nailed down right now, for instance I'm not entirely certain who'd be the best people to make the things (I have at least one idea), or if the model number's even close to being done the 'correct' way, or if the Fen involved even care about that.
She's a small 'fighter' craft built for OGJ and the Boskone War. The basic chassis is 'Waved from modified Rutan Long-EZ kits based on the XCOR EZ rocket mods.
(As an aside, I wonder what happened to XCOR during the 'Wave?)
I've added some pictures of the EZ Rocket at the bottom.

•  belly mounted coil gun
• 2 hard points for missiles, one per wing

•  Wing Span/Area: 26.1 ft (7.9m) / 81.99 ft2 (7.62m2)
•  Canard Span/Area: 11.8 ft (3.6m) / 12.8 ft2 (1.19m2)
•  Total Wing Area: 94.8 ft2 (8.81m2)
•  Length: 201.4 in (5.12m)
•  Height: 94.5 in (2.4m)
•  Cockpit Width: 23 in (0.58m)

•  MINI cooper Mk I    - 1132 kg
•  Fiesta Mk6             - 1096-1178 kg
•  Peugeot 206            - 1025-1145 kg

• Go Speed Racer, Go!  The EZ-Rocket was a racer, and that's how the builders of the F-EZig  thought of her.  The F-EZigs like to go fast and they like to fly, one that's been in the hanger too long will give  every impression of sulking.
• [should there be more class quirks, or should we leave them  for the individual ships?]

• For historical reasons the throttles have specific labels for max thrust and engines off (loud and quiet).  [These are the EZ Rocket's only actual  throttle settings]

It's funny what you'll think about to distract yourself at times like this. I finish my last equipment check, my fifth since we launched from the
Warsie 'blockade runner'. And, after making sure my spare magazines are secure, think back to the argument between the Lieutenant and the quartermaster
when our kit arrived. That was when the Lieutenant found out that certain liberties had been taken when filling out our unit's equipment orders.

Apparently the QM felt that 9mm parabellum was a little anemic and shifted a few letters around on some of the forms. The end result is a logistics headache
for our unit and the H&K MP5/10s most of us are currently carrying. The Lieutenant's still acting a little frosty towards the QM, not that he deigns
to notice. One supposes an AI can install some decent filters when he wants to.

The argument and the decedents it spawned among the military and gun otaku over caliber and chambering really drove home to me just how damn geeky we Fen are.
As aggravating as it can be, I think I like it that way. But then again, I'm just as weird as the rest of us.

The sudden deceleration of the waved ambulance turn LAC we're riding in jolts me against the restraints and back to the present. In the cockpit Auger flips
the door lights to amber, meaning we're almost to our targets. A pair of converted busses hanging in space a million klicks from nowhere.

One of them is a waved tour bus some gondolier had been using to run 'Dane tourists out to Mars. They'd managed to get a mayday off before they were
jammed. The other was a school bus at one point, and is now the reason for the mayday. The Black Hats had jumped the tour bus and were in the process of
looting her of

everything valuable, which was probably her passengers and crew based on the rumours we'd heard.

We slam to a stop, the magnetic grapples on our underside latching onto the Black Hat's bus. The door light switches to green and we pile out of the
doors. Time is against us now. The Black Hats have known we were here since our escorts hit their pickets, but now they know where we're going to be
coming from. Their refusal to

respond to any of our hails is worrying too, either they aren't worried, or they've done something they figure will make us disinclined to take
prisoners.

While Grey and Fosters pack the breaching charge around one of the bus's windows Hammer and I grab the collapsable airlock on the back of the LAC and haul
it down to the hull. I brace myself as Hammer signals that the lock is secured and Grey punches the detonator.

The window blows inwards, and then the pressure equalization sends the shards back into our faces. They bounce off of our armour as we lunge through. Hammer
spins towards the rear of the bus, and I tumble through the shift in AG plains after him turning towards the front. There are two Black Hats there,
un-helmeted and bent over

a computer system.

My momentum spoils my aim somewhat and my first burst mostly shreds electronics. A couple of rounds from my second catch one, the 10mm/Auto punching through
his flight-suit easily. He falls back, blood bubbling from his mouth as his friend turns to face me.

I spot the large pistol in his hand as it comes up and let my momentum carry me across the aisle and into the dubious cover of the seats. A couple of shots
blow large holes in the seat-back in front of me and then Fosters hits the deck. He settles things with his 12 gauge, the FRAG-12 round makes a mess out of
the front of the bus, and the remaining Black Hat.

I lever myself out of the seats, narrowly avoiding getting tangled in the manacles. The Lieutenant and Anders are rushing the door with me hot on their heels.
We storm through the hatch and run straight into the first prepared Black Hats we've met so far. Thankfully there aren't that many of them. Most of
the school bus's space was for prisoners, not troops.

Ten minutes later it's all over. Grey, Hammer and the sole surviving gondolier are in the LAC being rushed to the 'blockade runner' and her
surgical bay. Meanwhile the Lieutenant and I are trying to calm the terrified 'Danes and trying to figure out what happened. From what we can understand
the gondola had had an AI, and he'd managed to get into the Black Hat's systems after he got the mayday off. Probably why they didn't know we were
there 'til we knocked. There wasn't much left

of him if the state of the bus's hardware was anything to go by. The Black Hats hadn't taken his success calmly.

I place my armoured gauntlet on what's left of his housing for a long moment. Then I move to help the Lieutenant coax a young woman out from under her
seat. I unlatch my faceplate and try to smile reassuringly.

"Ma'am, it's over, you're going to be alright," I say.

She looks up, terrified, shrinking back into herself.

This war can't end fast enough.

This is a story that's been knocking about in my hindbrain for a while now & infecting my dreams. Not very long, but it's kind of an interesting character sketch with a little bit of fantasy kicked in for flavor. Enjoy. --Mal

...specifically, the In Nomine forum over on the Steve Jackson Games boards. (It didn't have any new traffic for a few days - somebody had to start something.)

http://forums.sjgames.com/showthread.php?t=40781]Which anime would Superiors watch?

Quote:Here are my thoughts on what anime various Superiors would like.

Some of these shows (marked with asterisks) haven't been licenced for North American distribution yet, so you may need to get a Region 2 DVD player and turn to one of the Japanese DVD-export businesses on the Internet before you can watch them. (I prefer CD Japan, myself; they're pricey, but they don't deal in bootlegs.)

Quote:Blandine: Tiny Snow Fairy Sugar. It doesn't matter who you are, you can still reach your dream... or help someone else reach hers.

Christopher: Aishiteruze Baby.* It's good to have a major child character act the way a child really would act, for a change. (While Aishiteruze Baby isn't licenced in North America yet, the manga has been completely translated.)

David: Any team-sports anime - Eyeshield 21, Princess Nine, and so on. Disparate individuals come together, and they accomplish what none of them could hope to do alone.

Dominic: You're Under Arrest! It may be less than serious at times - in fact, it's downright frivolous at times - but it shows law-enforcement forces in a positive light.

Eli: He's more interested in the creative process than the end result, so shows about making entertainment (such as Animation Runner Kurumi, Comic Party, and Smash Hit!*) are on Eli's watch list. Although he always has a few minutes to look at the shows that put disparate elements together in creative ways nobody's thought of before, like Oh Edo Rocket*...

Gabriel: "Righteous vengenance" is a common anime trope, so Gabriel has quite a few shows to choose from. But Chrono Crusade gets the Christian symbolism mostly right and has demons as the bad guys...

Janus: Lupin III. Lupin and his cohorts blow into town, shake things up by grabbing some valuable trinket out from under watchful eyes, then take off to repeat the process somewhere else before the law can grab them - what a perfect depiction of his Word!

Jean: Appleseed. The amount of effort the story's creator spent on getting every detail of the science right is commendable.

Jordi: If he must watch anime, Jordi finds Wolf's Rain - with its animalistic characterization of the wolves - least objectionable.

Khalid: Sailor Moon. She grows to have faith in herself, and that faith is what lets her win her most important battles.

Laurence: Revolutionary Girl Utena, if only for the swordfights.

Litheroy: Revelation has little time for fiction. Detective Conan isn't too objectionable, though, since the plots involve investigation.

Marc: Kamichu! This is almost a case of Choir trumping Word, but Yurie's solution to the problem of the mere presence of a poverty spirit appeals to both of Marc's major facets.

Michael: There are so many - the "band of warriors fighting together against all odds" is another common anime trope. But Zipang shows that even sound tactical planning backed up by powerful weaponry is only as good as the warroirs who use those tools of War.

Novalis: Legend of the Forest. "Why" should be obvious. (Although she sees a lot of herself in Risky Safety...)

Yves: The protagonist spends the entire series making amends for her own mistake, growing in ability and power while not losing the purity of her soul, and supporting other people as they strive to be the best and brightest that they can - what's not to like about the unedited Card Captor Sakura anime? Shame about the dub, though...

Zadkiel: Aishiteruze Baby.* Protecting someone involves so much more than just keeping her alive, as this anime shows so well.

Alaemon: That's a secret. (But Innocent Venus keeps so many secrets, it's incomprehensible...)

Andrealphus: Far too many to list here, and much of the list would probably be blocked by the forum's anti-profanity filter anyway. (If you're really interested, see the "Hentai Primer" on my website.) But not Legend of the Overfiend and its ilk. Andre can't see any point to killing humans while using them for pleasure; you can't use them again if you do that. Titles like Teacher's Pet are much more to Andre's liking... especially when Andre gets to be the teacher.

Asmodeus: Dominion Tank Police. They set the rules, and everyone else has to live by them.

Baal: Zipang. Massively-overpowering weapons, backed up by good tactics - what's not to like?

Beleth: Jungle wa Itsumo Haré Nochi Guu (released in North America simply as Haré + Guu). Turning the commonplace into horror by adding just one element makes for such a delicious waking nightmare... and it's presented in a way that the talking apes will watch it willingly!

Belial: Grave of the Fireflies. It's about the firebombing of Tokyo, right?

Fleurity: Anything with strong primary colours, which means almost any preschoolers' anime. They look so vivid when you're, like, stoned, man...

Furfur: Legend of Black Heaven. Hard Rock Saves Space! It even says so on the box!

Haagenti: You'd think they eat small meals in Japan, going by anime... -yawn- While Haagenti doesn't have a favourite show, there are a few characters whose appetites impress even Gluttony; Lina Inverse in Slayers and Son Goku in Dragonball are two of the more obvious ones.

Kobal: Princess Tutu. All that striving, and what does the lead character get for it? And just who gets the happy ending? That's one Hell of a punchline! Kobal has no idea why everyone else thinks this show is serious...

Kronos: No anime drives home the inevitability of Fate quite like Gall Force does.

Lilith: Moon Phase. It's all about helping that little girl become and remain Free, right? The prices that other people pay for that character's freedom were their own choices.

Malphas: There's far too much of the Japanese "solidarity" mentality in anime for Malphas' liking. But the second episode of the direct-to-video version of Magical Girl Pretty Sammy has a pleasant "be yourself no matter what" subplot.

Mammon: Neon Genesis Evangelion. Not for the anime itself - Mammon thinks that broadcast television shows interrupt the ads too often - but for the horde of collectables marketed along with the series. Nobody really needs a Rei Ayanami character figure, let alone a set of Rei figures in the dozens of different poses and outfits that have been available over the last decade. But as long as collectors keep buying them, Mammon profits by the Essence they give up in their search for "just the right one" or a complete set.

Nybbas: He loves them all. They're Media, baby!

Saminga: M.D. Geist. Everybody dies. If he must watch something that somebody else likes, then Gunslinger Girl - there's just something attractive to Saminga about brainwashing normal people to become assassins.

Valefor: Lupin III. Lupin and his cohorts blow into town, shake things up by grabbing some valuable trinket out from under watchful eyes, then take off to repeat the process somewhere else before the law can grab them - what a perfect depiction of his Word!

Vapula: Gunbuster. Some real science, some plausable pseudo-science, and some technology that does the job with only a few minor side-effects like destroying a noticeable chunk of the galaxy... and that tech is essential to the story. In Vapula's opinion, the people in Gunbuster are almost incidental.

I've heard about DW on and off again for a while (2003 or so), but I never got around to reading it 'till now.

Doug's an awesome, awesome character.

I've been reading fanfiction since 1995, from Undocumented Features originally, and I kinda went from there.

It's a neat, cozy community here. Though I was wondering if anyone has heard from Darren "Twister" Steffler. I fondly remember Twisted
Path...

Anywhoo, take it easy, guys and gals