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Yet Another Updates Thread |
Posted by: zojojojo - 11-23-2006, 02:20 AM - Forum: Archived Fanfic Recommendations
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the old thread was over 200 posts... that's way too much for my tastes...
Scion of Gryffindor and Bourne Again have new chapters up-Z, Post-reader at Medium
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If architects built buildings the way programmers write programs, the first woodpecker to come along would destroy civilization.
-Z, Post-reader at Medium
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If architects built buildings the way programmers write programs, the first woodpecker to come along would destroy civilization.
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BGC Bunny/Seed/Opening |
Posted by: Valles - 11-22-2006, 08:52 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
- Replies (27)
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JUNE 8, 2035
"GRINDTOWN" INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT
OSAKA, JAPAN
"Sylia, what's wrong?"
Sylia Stingray pulled herself out of her thoughts with a quick shake of her head and smiled at the woman who had become - to their mutual surprise - her closest friend. "Nothing. Just thinking about how quickly all this happened."
Nene sighed and carefully leaned her head back against one of the Knightwing's unpadded headrests. "I guess I understand. For years and years it was just us, and now, whammo, we've got 'expansion teams' all over the place."
"That's part of it, I guess. But... I owe all of you an apology."
The redhead made a face and reached forward to rap her gauntlet off of the other woman's helmet. "I was a kid, Sylia. God only knows what kind of mess I'd've made of things if you'd put me in charge of the entire computer system back then. Yeah, okay, you shouldn't've tried to do it all yourself, superhuman computer brain or not, but we've all done a lot of growing up since then. You don't need to mope about it any more than Priss needs to mope about all the suits she wrecked."
"I wrecked?" the singer said through the comlink from where she was leaning against the VTOL's landing gear. "Hey, while we're comparing repair bills, Little Miss Cyberpunk, let's talk about-"
"They're here," Linna said, cutting in against another chapter of the perpetual good-natured fued between the Knight Sabers' most and least agressive members.
The five armored figures that were landing on the roof where the Knightwing had set down were clad in armor very similar to the Sabers' own - as it should have been - but were still distinctively different. First and foremost, of course, there was the fact that one of them were quite unmistakably male, but other details large and small, from the design of their boots to the use of slashes of color on a drab background rather than solid shades, gave them a unified appearance all their own.
"So who gets to kill who?" Nene asked as she lifted her helmet on and sealed it in place.
Linna turned to look at her, though of course she couldn't see more than a dim profile from outside the one-way mirroring of the Knightwing's cockpit. "This is just an exercise, you know. No one is going to kill anyone."
The youngest Saber blew a raspberry at her.
"Red and Blue will work together to occupy Owl, Cobra, and Wolf. Green and I will seperate and eliminate Hawk and Tiger, respectively, before returning to support you." Sylia belted out the orders as the aircraft's cockpit opened to allow its two occupants to disembark. "Green, be careful, Hawk is-"
"I know, we've met before."
"Good." She stood and armed her suit's systems. "Knight Sabers, sanjou!"
This is ultimately supposed to be the Menagerie's story, not the Sabers', but our favorite girls will likely make cameos from time to time.
As to who the Menagerie are themselves, well, I know differing amounts about different members - the ones I have the most on are Hawk and Wolf, who are, well...
Hawk is, of course, one of the group's two close-combat specialists, and a good enough martial artist that she was living off of tournament prizes before she got pregnant with her daughter (who is, BTW, somewhere around sixish, and smart and precocious enough to seem anywhere between half again and twice that). Outside of the suits, she'd take Linna apart fairly easily, for comparison, although experience with that sort of fighting makes the odds both more even and weighted in the other direction in the situation described above.In between beating up psychotic boomers and taking care of her kid, she's fueding with her ex-husband and dating Cobra.
No, Owl is the resident male, along with being the team leader and the person who shelled out the Menagerie's starting capital. His suit is the only generalist design.
Cobra's a stripper in her day job. Owl's the only other one who knows that, though, and even he hasn't figured out that she's an escaped 33-S rather than a 50/50 cyborg with a blood disorder. She's one of the two shooters.
My earliest drafts had Tiger as being Jeena Malso of ADP fame, but on reflection I suspect it'd be best to scrap that... which'd leave the only fact we have being that she's the other close-combat specialist.
Wolf is the oldest, the most cynical, and the most experienced at violence, being as she is, or was, a professional mercenary for most of her adult life. She's Russian, originally, and has a fairly serious hate on for the male species in general. Thinks Owl means well, but never turns her back on him. Besides being the other shooter, she carries the demolition charges.
Their suits were all designed using the RPG rules, and those familiar with same will likely recognize their mark.
The Hawk suit is capable of independant flight up to Skyknight levels, is unusually flexible, and is armed with a railgun on one arm, a three-shot plasma torch (aka, lightsaber) deployable from the other, and shock plates on heels and knuckles. Its helmet is shaped and painted to resemble a hawk's face.
The Tiger is slow, its only ranged weapon is a set of low-intensity plate lasers, like those seen in the 55 series boomers, and its close-combat weapons are limited to a series of Really Really Sharp claws on the fingers of its gauntlets, but it's very heavily armored and stronger by far than any of the other hardsuits - comfortably stronger than anything short of Largo's superboomers. Given proper tactics and a working knowledge of leverage, it's capable of quite literally pulling most opponents limb from limb.
Besides carrying arm-mounted railguns and a laser array in the helmet, the Cobra is also the Menagerie's electronic warfare platform. Its jammers deploy above the shoulders, on either side of the helmet, giving rise to its name.
The Wolf has half a dozen S-mines in either arm and a pair of large laser cannons mounted on shoulder armatures and stored along the back - they deploy below the arm, rather than over the shoulders, though.
You might've noticed I didn't mention the Cobra as having hypersensors - it doesn't. The Owl carries those, but aside from that and substituting railguns for the lasers, it's a fairly close copy of Sylia's later suits, right down to the flight capability.
As to why I'm posting here, well, partially it's just to get this down on record rather than cooking in my brain, but I'd also genuinely like input, ideas, and other commentary.
Heck, coauthors are welcome!
Ja, -n
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"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"
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Addventure attempts |
Posted by: CattyNebulart - 11-20-2006, 10:32 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
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I'm trying a branch of the addventure idea and since AFAIK most of the fanfiction authors whole like Nanoha are on this board I wondered if anyone else would want to make a contribution.
addventure.bast-enterpris...77721.html
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
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Into the pool |
Posted by: Sirrocco - 11-20-2006, 08:08 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
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In an attempt to motivate myself to write more, I'm dusting off an old story that won't be finished until it's epic-length. I'll post it in chunks. Feedback, especially concrit, would be appreciated. Feel free to throw out speculation. I may even respond to some of it. It's not fanfic per se, but it does make side-references.
EDIT: sorry about that, folks. I ran afoul of some bizarre nonprinting termination characters.
First block as follows:
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It had been a long bloody day at the office. I work security for transdimensional customs in this little metaplane I call home, and while we don't have as many folks coming through as, say, Deva, we are something of a nexus for a number of the anime worlds. On the good side, that means that we have enough traffic to give a serious boost to our economy, technospiritual development and reality factor without our culture being utterly consumed by outside influences. On the bad side, it's anime. The vast majority of anime planar travelers are either prone to violence or downright evil. That's where I come in. Customs separates the good from the bad, gets people adjusted to working on our terms, and tries to make sure that we don't get overwhelmed by any one thing all at one go. I'm one of the folks providing the much needed muscle for those efforts.
In any case, enough digression. As I said, it had been a long bloody day at the office. We had to repel not one but two attacks by tentacle monsters from two entirely different dimensions, and the second one spawned a bunch of parasitic larvae that took over an hour to clean up even after we finished banishing it. I had to break up a fight between a little pig-tailed girl and some feral guy with burning purple hands, and go straight from that to reasoning gently with a squad of moronic katana bishonen who had challenged one of the inspectors to a duel of honor. Finally, just to cap the day off, some blasted backwater's idea of a supervillain managed to sleaze the mystic wards long enough to teleport into the city at large. That last one involved some serious paperwork for the boss, and he expressed exactly how he felt about it at the after-action review. I hate it when we let the boss down - it's not like his job doesn't suck enough by itself. A long bloody day.
So yeah, I get out to my car at about 7. It's a nice set of wheels - dark blue Saturn. It's not too expensive, it looks nice, it handles great, and gets good mileage. A few years old, but still hanging in there. Does what I tell it to, without fuss. Nice car. I pat it in a friendly fashion and murmur a few appreciative words to the inhabiting spirit, settle into the driver's seat, and head off down the road. The radio is playing Leonard Cohen, the traffic is moving at a fair clip, and for a brief, shining moment I start to unwind.
Then everything comes to a screeching halt, I nearly crash into the car in front of me, and I wind right back up again. Curses enough to curdle the blood of the unborn roll through my mind. I spin the dial over to news, and my day gets that much worse. The nice lady on the radio is talking about some freak that looks like a supervillain. He's running rampant through a few of the major interchanges, tossing bolts of chaos lightning. He's done a ton of property damage, shot the commute all to hell, and given a few elected officials headaches with his telepathic demands. Literally. Apparently he isn't good friends with the concept of fine control in his psionic powers. The best part about it is that apparently he's the guy who sleazed through Customs just a few hours ago. Wonderful! What a glorious cap to a glorious day. I hate being the thin black line some times. He doesn't seem to have killed anyone yet, but still.... I hate being the thin black line and failing.
So one of the superforce strike teams gets called in, and they manage to send the guy running and then give the highways makeshift repairs. They tried to run him down, but apparently his stealth powers are pretty good and he gave them the slip. With that mostly dealt with, the traffic mostly clears up, and It only takes me about two hours more than normal to get home. By the time I pull into the driveway, I'm done with the ugly little cycle of frustration, depression and self recrimination this sort of thing always sends me into, and now I'm just tired. I perform the parting ritual with my car - not well, but I'm sure she understands, and make my way up to my house. My hearth spirit greets me, and I ask for her report.
"Well, Domitor, there are the traditional monthly bills come in. Nothing out of the ordinary, and everything seems to be accurate. I can deal with those myself, if you would will it"
I nod and gesture assent-with-thanks
"You have a number of neighbors who have contacted you with respect to some disturbance at the highway interchanges earlier today." She notes my reaction. "I can appear to have lost those, if you would will it."
I wince, and gesture assent-with-thanks. It's nice to have an assistant who's willing to look incompetent from time to time. I already feel bad enough about the whole thing. I don't need anyone else jumping on my back about it.
"Finally as per your standing orders, I have given sanctuary to a young lady, who is now asleep on the couch."
Huh. Well, that's unusual. I give her formal dismissal, bow, remove my shoes, and enter. I figure that anyone sleeping on the couch isn't all that time critical, so I take a while to change out of the traditional plain black suit and thin black tie into a somewhat more comfortable worn blue jeans and flannel. I don't do well with normal social interaction while in uniform. It always makes me feel like I should be intimidating someone.
Once I've taken care of that, splashed some water on my face, and in general made myself feel a little less official and a little more human, I head down to deal with the new waif on the couch. I detour through the kitchen and snag some cheese and crackers, then into the living room...
...where I do my best pole-axed steer impression for a few moments before finding my way to a chair and remembering to breathe again.
She's not just any young lady, she's a mahou shouju. She's one of those cute little girls with mystic powers, who wear magical sailor suits with thematically appropriate accessories and fight against evil and wrong. She's maybe all of seventeen, and right now she's sleeping on my couch.
I just sit there and watch her for a while. Her chest rises and falls gently with each breath. Her face is angelic in slumber, and for a short while she seems to have found peace. That can't be common in her line of work.
"Hearth spirit."
"Yes, Domitor?"
"If anyone troubles her, destroy them utterly. Contact me regardless of success."
"Yes, Domitor."
"Dismissed."
I get up, carrying the miraculously unspilled cheese and crackers, and go back into the kitchen. No need to wake her. It's been a long and tiring day, after all. I'll just eat my snack and make an early night of it.
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Plot... sorry, Character Bunny |
Posted by: robkelk - 11-20-2006, 02:59 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
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Came up with this one while giving this year's AC-Cubed Fanfiction panel. I may use her somewhere, but if anyone wants to grab her first, feel free...
Her family name is Suu. She's a top achiever in school; she's consistently in the top 5% on test scores and in athletics. She's kind, pretty, and witty. She's got a secret, but it's one that complements the secrets of the protagonists rather than putting her in conflict with them. Her given name is Mariko, but her friends - and everyone wants to be her friend - call her "Mari".
Now, the challenge is to (a) keep the readers from realizing for as long as possible that you've literally added a Mari Suu character to your story, and (b) get rid of her without it looking like an obvious set-up...
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Full up again! |
Posted by: His Lovely Wife - 11-19-2006, 10:28 PM - Forum: The Legendary
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The legendary is Full Up again. As per an earlier message, I kicked Frankie Fallout so we have 1 space. And I have removed Fae Wree Tail. She now runs Cross Roads - The Legendary - Beta Team. It's avaialble for Alts.
Should we be changing the 120 days to something shorter? Should we be restricting the number of toons a person has in The Legendary? Is there an easy way to solve this? I realize there is talk of the 75 aqccounts in stead of toons thing, but is there a date for it?
Anyway, Beta Team is available. All I wanted to say. Next time one of the Triumverate is on we should talk coalition.
-Cindy
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Goodbyes and Hellos |
Posted by: His Lovely Wife - 11-19-2006, 09:19 AM - Forum: The Legendary
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Well, I did get permission from Drenivian first, but I 'kicked' Onyx Razor, inactive 118 days, from The Legendary.
BUT......
Please welcome our latest addition, Stephnie Jenova, played by @ Horned Dragon. Great RPer and you should meet Horned Dragon on Infinity. Really Cool Toon.
Welcome!
-Cindy
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Passing Torches (plus challenge) |
Posted by: SkyeFire - 11-19-2006, 06:39 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction
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My Muse must have gotten into the amphetamines again, or something.
Over in the Recommendations thread, someone mentioned the post-EW Gundam Wing fic "Manifestations", here at www.fanfiction.net/s/2226187/1/
Which I opened up and began reading. Barely halfway through the first *page*, I hit this bit:
Quote:
The sight of the dead machine had been enough to make her feel sick. The thought of Heero climbing out of that, and making it back to the underground safe house was all she could take this morning. The search had been on for nearly thirteen hours now and no other survivors or bodies had been recovered. They had sketchy reports of around twenty-five people unaccounted for, but Relena was beginning to suspect that perhaps those few people had managed to sneak off during the confusion and had chose to avoid relating to the world that they were still alive. Part of her could understand that, and empathize with those who wished to move away from war as someone else entirely
The young man in front of her had made a declaration last night that would no doubt end his life, as he had known it. Heero had sworn that he would never be forced to kill again.
And that, right *then,* is when the bunny up and bit me on the...
And, anyway....
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Heero Yuy snapped awake without moving a muscle, or changing the rythm of his breathing. Even his heartrate barely altered.
He could tell that it was late, quiet, in what was obviously a hospital. And he had awakened because--
"Hello, Mr. Yuy."
--there was an intruder in his room. One who knew he was awake.
Tactically, feigning sleep or attempting an attack by speed alone were poor options. Heero elected to open his eyes and sit up slowly, smoothly, non-threateningly. The intruder was seated in the small hospital room's single chair, legs crossed, hands empty and in view, to all appearances casual and at ease.
That is, if one ignored his eyes. If one had not had the kinds of experience that gave Heero those same eyes, and the ability to recognize them in others' faces, no matter how well they were hidden.
This man was dangerous. Deadly in a way that only Heero, his fellow Gundam pilots, and a very few others were. Lethal to a degree where such fine distinctions as "hostility" and "intent" became essentially meaningless.
"You've recently made a commitment," the other man said levelly. "A commitment to never be forced to kill again." He drew out a moment of silence between tham. "You realize that will be a difficult vow to keep."
Heero saw no need to reply to the obvious, as his visitor had seen no need to belabor the equally evident subtexts layering that statement.
"You are not the first to walk this path," the man continued. "Others have gone down this road before you, with varying measures of success. And failure." He stood, nonthreateningly as Heero had, allowing the younger man to match his movement. Standing, they faced each other in the dim silence.
"I have brought you a tool, which you may find helpful." The man's hand moved in a smooth arc, grasping something that had not been there a moment before and tossing it underhand to Heero--
Who caught and half-drew the sheathed katana before he caught his reflex. Something in the blade caught at his conscious attention, and a tiny shock of startlement ran through him as he realized the cause. He looked at his visitor with a raised eyebrow.
"That sword was once the property of perhaps the greatest assassin the world has ever known. Without a doubt one of the half-dozen deadliest men of his entire era, and quite possibly -the- deadliest. That, however, is not the sword he used to kill."
Heero waited.
"No. What you hold is the sword he used -not- to kill, after making a commitment much like your own. After laying down his assassin's blade for the final time, upon the completion of his overarching mission."
A tiny vibration, like a resonance, seemed to touch Heero lightly in a way he could not have quite described. His eyes returned to the blade, despite the tactical risk of such an action.
"In the end, he could not keep that vow completely unbroken. But he did so sufficiently enough that -he himself- remained unbroken. He found a balance, between the assassin he had been and the man he desired to be." The visitor's mouth quirked slightly. "Rather like the harder and softer steels that make up the blade you now hold."
"A stick can kill. So can bare hands," Heero stated, his voice empty and colorless. "A reverse-blade sword is at least as lethal."
His visitor nodded, acknowledging the point. "Indeed. After all, he might as well have used the back edge of a normal sword, with similar effectiveness. But the sakabatou is not simply a blunted length of steel -- it was his symbol. His icon, if you will. A touchstone always at his side, where his assassin's blade had once resided -- a weapon that, in its very use, prevented him from forgetting his oath."
A tiny tremor shook Heero's hands, which he found disturbing. Even more disturbing was the way his hands moved apart without his express command, drawing the sword fully free of its sheath and bringing it to mid-guard. A shaft of moonlight through the (dangerously exposed, sniper threat) window, running down the blade like a drop of quicksilver to evaporate off the chisel-pointed tip.
"I hope you serve each other well," his visitor said elliptically, and turned towards the door.
He was almost there before Heero struggled past the anomalous paralysis in his vocal chords. "Who...? -Why-?" The minute edge of desperation in his voice was dangerous, revealing a vulnerability, but... his need (he should not feel -need-, -need- was dangerous, making one vulnerable and manipulateable) for the answer outweighed the risk.
He should have been disturbed by the hasty ease with which he revealed this weakness, but the part of him that should have cared seemed... numb. Distant. No longer completely attached....
His benefactor paused in the doorway for a long moment before turning around. "His name was Kenshin Himura, and he was a good friend of mine. Before he died, we spoke at some length about other individuals I knew of, his... comrades in peace, you could say, who might need assistance of a... sempai, so to speak." He smiled crookedly in the pale moonlight. "He made arrangements for it to pass into my hands, in time."
He turned to move through the doorway, but was caught by Heero's voice again.
"And you?"
"I?" his benefactor replied slowly, without turning. "I... am a traveler from an antique land." He stepped out the door, around the corner -- and was no longer in the hallway. Heero knew that with utter certainty.
It would be some time before a chance remark from Duo would lead Heero to the literary reference, and the layers of meaning behind it. But for tonight....
He moved the hospital bed and adjusted the curtains until he no longer provided an easy sniper target, but could still see the moon. He raised the back of the bed into a near-seated posture, tucked the sword beside him... and slept more peacefully than he could remember.
In his dreams, a small girl and her puppy came to him, again, but this time in a field of flowers rather than a waseland of rubble and fire. And this time... he was happy to see them again.
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So... There are some really powerful parallels between where Heero is at the end of EW, and where Kenshin is immediately after the climactic battle of the Bakumatsu. I never thought of this before, but when it hit, it hit like *lightning.*
Challenge: there have to be other iconic artifacts that could well serve new caretakers. Heroes who could do justice to Captain America's shield, or Excalibur, or Raging Heart, or the Nautilus (the Blue Water version), or John Henry's hammers. All that's needed is some self-insert character to play PanDimensional Express.
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*POOF* goes the schedule... dammit... |
Posted by: Logan Darklighter - 11-16-2006, 10:47 PM - Forum: The Legendary
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I knew this was coming, but now that I'm out of training classes at my job, my schedule has gone from a normal 9-5 Mon-Fri schedule to a 3 PM - 12 AM Wednesday through Sunday schedule. So other than on Mondays and Tuesdays I'm going to be more or less completely unavailable except for the graveyard schedulers.-Logan
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"This kind of thing tends invariably to devolve into the kind of "No, Nakajima, THIS is true power!!" argument that only really works if you're yelling it from the cockpit of a giant robot . . ."
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