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| [Story] Land Theft Auto |
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Posted by: Acyl - 03-07-2007, 07:26 PM - Forum: Fiction
- Replies (5)
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This is technically not a work in progress. I've unofficially shelved this while I finish...other things. I'll probably get back to it at some point, though. I'm just not certain when that point is. Eventually.
However, I've had this stuff sitting idle for a couple months. So I figure I might as well share. It's an origin story for the Island and its crew, and a bit of a writing experiment. Think heist or caper movie, based mostly around dialogue. I was trying for a quick, breezy style...dunno if it works, but...
Land Theft Auto
* * *
It's a rule of the universe. Or if it ain't, it should be:
The best ideas are always hatched in the wee hours of the morning. Marinate in alcohol for better results. Add cigarette fumes for taste.
Oh, and paper napkins. Can't forget the paper napkins. Need something to doodle on, after all.
Eric Zhu was doodling, drawing on a napkin with thick, bold strokes. It was something he did almost instinctively, as natural as breathing. He thought - and he drew.
The lines were formless, abstract, but he was on the cusp of something. He wasn't sure what, but he could feel it. Then the tip of his pen stabbed through the napkin, ink soaking through the thin paper.
"Overseas," Eric said, "overseas."
The others at the table turned to look at him.
Will raised his glass, holding it up in salute. "What's this," he asked, "some kind of new greeting?" He grinned, matching the Cheshire Cat emblazoned across his t-shirt, except with a scraggly beard instead of whiskers. His teeth flashed in the dim light.
"Catchy," Matthew quipped, hefting his own drink, "a merry overseas to you too."
Eric snorted. He balled up the ruined napkin, tossing it aside. Grabbing a fresh one, he resumed his doodling, this time at a more leisurely pace. "No, no. Overseas. That's the solution. Look, all the big governments are cracking down on goo mods, right?"
"Ri-ight," Matt drawled. He puffed on what was left of his cigarette, then arched a brow. "Your point?"
"Point is," Eric continued, "it's damn near impossible to do any 'wavium projects anymore. Nothing large-scale. Not in the States, anyway. Or the UK, or Europe, or even Singapore. Most developed nations have a stick up their...well. You know."
"Can you blame them? They're afraid," Will replied.
"Of what? There isn't..." Eric shook his head, "...forget it, we've gone over this. But that means to do anything, you need to go elsewhere. Overseas."
"Hmmm," muttered Matt, "somewhere the handwave paranoia hasn't hit yet. I guess..."
Will shrugged. "China?"
Matt laughed. "You're kidding. Sooner or later, they're gonna have a communist cow."
"Yeah," Will said, "but corruption. There's so much corruption. Once you get out of the cities, in the rural areas..."
"Nah," Eric interjected, "too risky. But corruption's right. Inefficiency, bureaucracy, somewhere the government can't get its act together."
Matt frowned, grinding his cigarette stub into the ashtray. "South America?"
"Africa," Eric murmured, "Kenya. Nigeria. I don't know. No anti-wave legislation, cheaper labour, low property prices..."
Will recoiled, nearly dropping his drink. He set the glass down firmly on the table, then gave his friend a strange look. "Property? What do you wanna do, build a condo in space?"
Eric flicked his fingers, spinning the pen around,. With his other hand, he took a sip of beer. "Close," he said, "a shopping centre."
Matt folded his arms, his expression one of disbelief. "A mall?"
"And hotel too, I suppose," Eric mused, "there's demand. Or there will be."
Ignoring their stares, Eric went back to his drawing. A few moments later, he clicked the pen shut and slid the napkin across the table.
The other two leaned over, studying the crude picture.
"An island," Will said.
Eric corrected him. "A floating island."
Matt rolled his eyes. "How drunk are you?"
"Obviously not enough," Will proclaimed. He stood up, waving grandly. "BARTENDER!"
* * *
"I'm telling you," Eric insisted, "it'll work."
He winced, holding the phone away from his ear. Once the tirade died down, he put it back in place, though not without a certain amount of hesitation.
"I take it," Eric replied, dryly, "you disagree."
The voice on the line let him know just how much otherwise, in excruciating detail.
Eric closed his eyes. He cupped a hand over the receiver, so his partner-in-conversation couldn't hear him sigh. Or count, quietly, to ten.
"Look, Ginnette," he pleaded, "I'm serious, okay? I'm not kidding, let's get that clear. I've really thought about this."
He listened, as she gave a critical analysis of his thoughts. A very critical analysis.
Finally, he managed to get a word in edgewise, cutting in when she paused for breath. A brilliant move of verbal ju-jitsu, perfected by long practice.
"There's a niche," he said, talking quickly, "it'll work. There's an opening. There's need. There's demand. It'll work. There's already God knows how many people out there, and there'll be more. Anti-wavium laws won't stop it. Hell, have you seen the forums? There's a bunch of folks planning to colonise Mars! MARS!"
Eric kicked his shoes off. He sat cross-legged on the sofa. Wincing, he endured the harsh rebuttal. He gripped the phone tighter, his voice rising a notch.
"Gin, Gin, no, no. Don't you see? They're heading into space in all these small craft. SMALL craft. Small. That's the point. Limited room, cramped quarters, not much food or water. You see the problem? People'll need somewhere to resupply. Or just get out and unwind. That's why I---"
Annoyed, he shook his head, not caring that Ginette couldn't see him.
"Because it's something I can do," Eric told her, "something WE can do. Besides..."
He hesitated, then flipped a mental coin and went for it.
"Besides, it'll be fun."
Eric smirked, as Ginette made a particularly cutting remark. She'd stopped with the protests - she was now into mere sarcasm, which meant he had her, totally and utterly.
"Uh-huh, the guys are on board. Will thinks it's cool. Matt thinks it'll turn a profit. I don't know about that, but hey. That's his thing. And yours, I guess. But do you WANT to be an office drone for the rest of your life?"
Pause.
"Mm-hm, your mother probably WOULD have a heart attack if you followed me into space. So...isn't that a good enough reason?"
Eric grinned.
"Yeah, I am. Like a fox."
* * *
"Obviously," Eric said, a week later, "the first thing we need is money."
Will rubbed his chin. "Not handwavium?"
"With enough cash, that's no problem. But we NEED money. If we pool what we've got, it's a fair sum, but..." Eric trailed off, then sighed, shoulders slumping. "No. Construction costs. Officials to bribe. We need more."
Will smiled. "Didn't you say it'll be cheaper in Nigeria?"
"Well, yeah," Eric answered, "but still expensive. I ran the numbers..."
"Didn't you fail math?"
Eric gave his friend a nasty glare. "So did you."
Will held his hands up, in a gesture of appeasement. "Ancient history."
"No," Eric retorted, "you aced history."
Will chuckled. "Always loved the humanities."
His muscles tense, Eric continued to pace. Will's office wasn't very big, meaning he had to keep turning every couple of seconds...or risk ramming face-first into a wall. That said, he was vaguely considering just that - slamming his had into a solid object.
"Money," Eric grumbled, "that's the problem."
"Aren't you rich?"
"I'm a freelance consultant," Eric snapped, "what do YOU think?"
Will shrugged. He seemed calm, in contrast to his restless friend. Patient, composed, and not hyperventilating. "Isn't that the world's largest growth industry?"
"Ha-ha," Eric groused, "funny."
"Thanks," Will said, "I thought so."
Breathing a sigh, Eric flopped into a chair, one of the two Will kept for visitors. He curled up, hooking his ankles round the chair legs, bowing his head.
Then he froze.
Slowly, Eric looked up, eyes narrowing. "Alright, talk."
Will blinked twice, meeting Eric's suspicion with a look of pure innocence. He held that look for a few long moments...before breaking into laughter.
"Well," Eric complained, "I'm glad you're having fun at my expense. Now, share the joke, please?"
"Sorry," Will apologised, "you're just so...intense."
"It's a skill."
"I bet. But you can relax. Doctor William Kao has the cure for what ails you."
Eric gave him a nasty glare. "You're not a medical doctor."
"Ehhh," Will replied, his manner that of a man far above such mundane facts, "mere technicalities, technicalities. What I am...is a man...with connections."
"You're a freaking TEACHER."
"True," Will acknowledged, "but that means I have students. And one of mine...might have the solution to our problem. You'll like it. It involves 'wavetech."
Eric frowned. "You trust this guy?"
"Sure, he's one of my best students."
"Really. What's his major?"
"Law. Takes a thief to be a thief."
"What's he doing in YOUR class, then?"
"I'm a cool professor."
"And that's why you'll never get tenure."
-- Acyl
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| In the Pirkinning |
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Posted by: SkyeFire - 03-07-2007, 07:18 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
- Replies (2)
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Does it still count as fanfic if it's film, rather than text? Oh, who cares!
www.legaltorrents.com/index.htm
Search for "Pirk"
It's almost like the B5/ST aspects of UF, just... parodied. Wildly. They squeeze in a reference to every Trek series and movie ever made.
Oh, and everybody dies. But in funny ways.
The space-battle animations are actually Really Darn Good, considering the the source. And... is it just me, or is their Ivanova a *perfect* dead ringer (persona-wise, not appearance-wise) for the Real Deal?
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| One player's RP experiment. And another's. |
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Posted by: Acyl - 03-07-2007, 03:36 AM - Forum: The Legendary
- Replies (1)
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From the official CoH boards.
A poster called AmazingMOO has written something about his experiences RPing a transgender character, and the reactions other players had to it. I believe he was trying to explore transgender issues, and attitudes towards them.
Link: Project Star: An Experiment in Roleplaying
(It isn't mentioned in the thread, but the writer is a married man, if it makes any difference)
I mention this because...it's a pretty thought-provoking piece of work. Interesting.
But I'm also referencing this here... to share what another player (Ripcord) posted in that thread. Something that...frankly floored me. Ripcord shared a screenshot, and discussed their own character exploring similar themes.
I was thunderstruck by the sheer artistry in Ripcord's character bio, and the amazing work with the character creator. Truly a brilliant costume. But SO SO WRONG, DAMNIT, JUST WRONG.
-- Acyl
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| Practicing Life |
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Posted by: Valles - 03-07-2007, 02:05 AM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play
- Replies (3)
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I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly youre wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 youre on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Five for Fighting - 100 Years
The power I see coming from this is sort of like that of We Didn't Start the Fire, in that it compresses a lot of perceived time into a little objective time, and that it allows a person to experience what it shows as though they were the ones there... but instead of being fixed events as felt by those who lived them, this is a projection of a possibility - that is, anyone affected thinks that they've been snatched out of their first lives and dropped into a newborn body, which they then spend the next hundred years living in before dying and 'restarting' in their original body.
A helluva theraputic tool, if nothing else.
Ja, -n
===============================================
"I'm terribly sorry, but I have to kill you quite horribly now."
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| Kent State in Warrior's World |
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Posted by: DHBirr - 03-06-2007, 11:37 AM - Forum: General DW Chatter
- Replies (13)
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There's a question -- not really important, but it's been nagging me for a while now. A reference in DWII seems to indicate that the U.S. never got into the war in Vietnam/Cambodia/Laos. Toward the end of Chapter 3 he compares the Knight Sabers' hardsuits to other local products:
Quote:
every other battlesuit that I'd seen or read about here had been a huge thing that reminded me of the old walkertanks from the French-Indochina Conflict of the 1960s
So what I've been wondering is: what, in Warrior's World, ticked off all those students to produce the demonstrations that led to the Kent State shootings? What differing cause led to a near-identical result (including a near-identical protest song by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young)?
-----
Big Brother is watching you. And damn, you are so bloody BORING.
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| Fox On The Run |
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Posted by: Kokuten - 03-06-2007, 07:58 AM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play
- Replies (3)
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Fox On The Run - Various.
Deadsy - Fox On The Run (3:22) Wrote:Fox On The Run lyrics
I
don't wanna know your name,
cause you don't look the same,
the way you did before.
OK
you think you got a pretty face,
but the rest of you is out of place,
You looked all right before.
Fox on the run.
You scream and everybody comes
a running.
Take a run and hide
yourself away.
I say on the run.
F-foxy,
fox on the run
and hide away.
You
ya talk about just every band,
but the names you drop are second hand.
I've heard it all before.
I
don't wanna know your name,
cause you don't look the same,
the way you did before.
Fox on the run.
You scream and everybody comes
a running.
Take a run and hide
yourself away.
I say on the run.
F-foxy,
fox on the run
and hide away.
F-foxy,
fox on the run.
You scream and everybody comes
a running.
Take a run and hide
yourself away.
I say on the run.
F-foxy,
Fox on the run,
and hide away.
Fox on the run,
and hide away
Fox on the run,
and hide away
[fades]
Fox on the run,
and hide away
Fox on the run,
and hide away Sweet - Fox On The Run (3:27) Wrote:I don't wanna know your name
Cause you don't look the same
The way you did before
OK you think you got a pretty face
But the rest of you is out of place
You looked all right before
Fox on the run
You screamed and everybody comes a-running
Take a run and hide yourself away
Fox on the run
F-foxy, foxy on the run and hideaway
You-you talk about just every band
But the names you drop are second hand
I've heard it all before
I don't wanna know your name
Cause you don't look the same
The way you did before
(repeat chorus)
Converts Doug into a "Strange Attractor", with a focus towards combat. All combatants not allied with Doug will auto-target him on all attacks initiated after the start of the song. Doug is provided with a moderate (~70mph) runspeed increase for the duration of the song. AOE are affected, the intended center of effect will be Doug. All other field/combat abilities remain unchanged
The country version of this song has no affect. Wire Geek - Burning the weak and trampling the dead since 1979Wire Geek - Burning the weak and trampling the dead since 1979
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| Planet Death |
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Posted by: HoagieOfDoom - 03-06-2007, 06:50 AM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play
- Replies (5)
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"Dead Heart In A Dead World"
by Nevermore
from the album Dead Heart In A Dead World
5:05
---
To see the last survivor fall
To see their bastards sons against the wall
To see the emptiness as we decay
I see the world is dead, I am betrayed
Dead heart in a dead world
Dead heart in a dead world
This rotten hole that I call home bled dry again
This lesion marked upon my soul
Left an empty hanging man
Across the fields, into the sea
To find the light from within
Out of this lake I've tried to crawl
I think I'm there and then again I fall
Again I fall
Burn your gods and kill the king
Subjugate your suffering
Dead heart, in a dead world
We must remember wounds so deep
Take time to heal
And sometimes though we struggle still
Life seems surreal
Emotions turned to cold dead wood
Can still have life once more
The door that slammed upon your heart
Torn away, torn away
Burn your gods and kill the king
Subjugate your suffering
Dead heart, in a dead world
Burn your gods and kill the king
Subjugate your suffering
Dead heart, in a dead world
Dead heart, in a dead world
---
Power: Over the course of the song, whatever world Doug happens to be on literally dies. For the duration, Doug is emotionless towards everything.
The only possible time where I can envision Doug using something like this would be on a world that has lost all hope of recovery or that is about to be subjugated by an evil something-or-other. In those situations, the "merciful" death of everyone on the planet would need to outweigh the consequences of not using it. Furthermore, if Doug does have this, it would probably be under tighter lock and key than "Chickasaw Mountain" because it totally suppresses any emotions he may have, and thus taking away the decision to turn it off.
I don't see this ever making it into a story or game session, considering that it makes for an automatically bad ending unless someone can forcefully turn off his helmet or whatever other source is playing the song.*********
Touched By His Noodly Appendage
www.venganza.org
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| The Beginning Of A Little Something |
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Posted by: Bob Schroeck - 03-06-2007, 05:51 AM - Forum: The Legendary
- Replies (4)
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I don't have a title for this yet, nor is it much more than the opening, but I do have a direction in mind. I'm just not finding a lot of time to work on it at the moment. I decided I would share, though, just to show folks that I am working on some of the many shared-world projects that I am allegedly a part of here.
Enjoy.
Minuet asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.
I said yes, of course, without thinking about it. How could I not say "yes"? Min's kind of like the big sister I never had.
But maybe I should've thought about it first. Because now I have a big problem. I'm sixteen years old and my parents don't know I'm a superhero. There's no way I can show up at what's going to be Paragon City's wedding of the year, in the freakin' bridal party yet with, what, half a dozen other superheroes, get my picture taken, show up in the papers and on television, and not have my folks wonder -- why did these big important superheroes include their little girl in their wedding, and just how does she know them?
I'm going to have to show them the invite that Min promised to fake up for me, after all, so they know I'm really invited. There's no way around that, not if I want to go. But my parents are far from dumb. They'll connect the dots. Oh, they won't recognize me -- the transformation magic hides my identity from everyone except witnesses to the change -- but when they can't find me in the wedding photos, they'll know I'm someone in a cape.
And there are only so many slender, perky 5-foot-2 teenaged blondes in the Legendary.
I spent an entire duty shift at our base talking to Alastair about it. Alistair's not been around as much as he used to be when I was just starting out -- now that I'm clearance 36 and the leader of almost 80 other superheroes I guess he figures that I don't need nearly as much hands-on guidance as I did when I first got my sword. Mostly these days he seems to like hanging around with Gil MacHeath, who's one of the two or three members of the Legendary besides me who can actually see Alistair. (I don't complain because, honestly, Alistair is a bit of a nag at times, and weirdly enough the two work together well.) But somehow he always knows when I need someone to talk to about stuff I can't go to my folks for, and sure enough, I'll turn around and find a penguin waiting for me.
Yeah, a penguin. Other magical girls get cats, or ferrets, or weird little blobby things that live in their cell phones. I get -- got -- a penguin.
An invisible penguin.
With a British accent.
(You know what's sick? After everything I've been through in the last year-plus, Alistair's probably the most normal thing in my life!)
Wow. That looks shorter than it does in Courier.
-- Bob
---------
Visit beautiful Boston, proud successor to Seattle as
"City Most Scared Of Its Own Shadow
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