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  Needing a song
Posted by: WengFook - 06-01-2006, 07:53 AM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play - Replies (2)

I am turning to the more knowledgeable people here for recommendations for a song which fits a situation...
which is being stuck millions of miles away from home.. space and other dimensions apply to this scenario Big Grin
anybody got anything? _______________________________
We are the swords in the darkness, the watchers on the walls. The fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn. The horn that wakes the sleepers. The shield that guards the realms of men. -The Brothers Black
_________________________________
Take Your Candle, Go Light Your World.

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  Need some copyright info...
Posted by: robkelk - 06-01-2006, 12:57 AM - Forum: General DW Chatter - Replies (4)

Writing a Drunkard's Stagger has one non-obvious problem: when I use music from the radio or suggestions from the group, I have to end off paragraphs in the credits with the phrase "Copyright holder unknown to me." I don't like doing that...
I've tracked down copyright information for a few songs on the Internet, but the "information wants to be free" mentality means this information isn't usually provided. (Spot the logical fallacy in play here.) In some cases, I managed to track down the performers' websites, but came up empty-handed.
Then I realized: If anybody has copyright information for music, then so do the regulars here. Who can help me with these songs?
(I've slipped in a few songs that I'm not using, and not listed a few that I am using, just to preserve a bit of mystery...)

"76 Trombones", performer unknown, from the soundtrack to "The Music Man"
"99 Red Balloons", sung by Gabriela "Nena" Kerner, written by Kevin McAlea.
"Break On Through (To The Other Side)", by The Doors.
"Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood", performed by The Animals, written by B.Benjamin/S.Marcus/C.Cadwell.
"Friends of Mr. Cairo", by Jon and Vangelis.
"Herculean Bellboy", by Young and Sexy. (This piece hasn't been discussed yet. I'm seeing it as a "Nodwick" song, one way or another...)
"I Am the Slime", by Frank Zappa.
"I Will Follow Him", by The Chiffons(?)
[Edit: No, actually by Peggy March. Bob and I both had this one wrong... It was released in 1963 by RCA-Victor, but I don't know whether they, she, or someone else holds the copyright.]
"I'll Play For You", by Seals and Crofts.
"Knock on Wood", written by Eddie Floyd and Steve Cropper.
"Montage", performer unknown, from the "Team America" soundtrack.
Edit: Copyright 2004 Paramount Pictures
"Nemo", by Nightwish.
"Over the Top", sung by Miki Matsubara, from the "Dirty Pair: Project E.D.E.N." soundtrack.
"Raining Again", by Moby.
"Rubber Band Man", performed by The Spinners, written by Linda Creed and Thom Bell.
"She's So Cold", by the Rolling Stones, written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.
"Stalin's Organs", by GWAR.
"These Dreams", performed by Heart, written by Martin Page.
"Working My Way Back To You", by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.
"You May Be Right", by Billy Joel.

-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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  Goggle removing conservative websites from it's search
Posted by: hmelton - 05-31-2006, 05:01 PM - Forum: Politics and Other Fun - Replies (4)

This is the Political half of a thread started in general discussion.
I've noticed myself that other search engines turn up more conservative sites than goggle.
I started weaning myself from Goggle when they caved to the chinese government and started to use Yahoo, but then yahoo caved to the Chinese so now I"m looking for another full time search engine.
www.riehlworldview.com/ca...a_dan.html
americanthinker.com/artic...le_id=5517

howard melton
God bless

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  because I've just seen X3, and needed to get this out
Posted by: Rieverre - 05-29-2006, 10:08 PM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction - Replies (8)

X3 ... well, it was a pretty good movie, but if I start bitching about it here I'll never stop.
Instead, a short ficlet set sometime around the second movie, with a character I've wanted to bring out for a while now.
Actually, I'm writing - or trying to write, at least - an original story with a chara who's been based off of this guy as the centerpiece.
In my defense, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Happens around the time of X2 or so.


Demonbane Ltd.
presents
Just a hack.
a ficlet in the X-Men movieverse.
disc: Marvelverse, in any of its incarnation, is not mine. If it were, I'd have kept it less convulted.
---
I hop out of the bus, drop to the ground, and roll.
It's not exactly my chosen mode of exiting that means of public transportation, but it works in a pinch. Especially when some moron is getting his kicks in by throwing cars around.
I try not to let this sort of thing get me down. Not that it's par for the course, not really, but it's also nothing all that special.
Oh, the girl who just went through the parked SUV and made quite an impression on the concrete wall of the ...
I peek around the hood. Ah, bank. Gotcha.
... building it was standing next to? You'll laugh, she calls herself 'Impact'.
Real name? Oh, come now, you didn't expect me to actually tell you, did you?
Anyway, she's alright. She's had ... maybe not worse, but comparable. Walked away without much trouble. She's what you'd call a mutant, though some prefer meta-human. Freak is an all-time favorite as well, but they never say it to her face.
No, not because she's cute. That doesn't quite work all the time. She's short. Red-haired. Green eyed. Has freckles. Couldn't be more Irish if she painted herself green and started threading clovers through her hair.
Me? I'm just a bystander. Really. Would these eyes lie to you?
Hmm ... yeah, alright, so they would.
My card says 'Ethan Thane, Thane Consulting'. Appropriately ominous, I suppose.
I'm in antiques.
Funny thing is, I don't really fancy history all that much. You could say I learned through osmosis.
Oh, she's up again.
I duck down low and half crouch, half crawl behind the sedan that had been tossed our way a moment ago, and is now leaning against a bent streetlight.
Imp just grabbed a chunk of concrete the size of her fist - meaning not very large - and tossed it back at the moron.
Yeah, I call her Imp. She hates it. She calls me worse things.
No, there is no sexual tension. Trust me on this. She's just a good friend.
Well, you could ask why there is no sexual tension, but I wouldn't tell you. If I did, I'd have to kill you.
Mr. Moron - what, you expect me to actually call him by whatever moniker he's gotten himself when he's doing something as blatantly stupid as tossing around automobiles in front of a shopping center on a busy day? - just got hit by a chunk of concrete traveling at slightly better than Mach One. She's getting good at that.
What? Right. Imp's power, ability, whatever, is something that somebody with far too much time on their hands once called 'para-psionic' ... like those peeps who can move stuff with their minds, only not. Not _what_, exactly, is a tricky question.
The answer boils down to her being able to control the kinetic energy of objects, including her own body, among other related things.
When she hit that wall, she spread the 'impact' energy over a wide enough area that she didn't go through the wall, and nearly nullified her own body's kinetic energy and inertia.
See what I meant when I said she didn't get hurt?
Anyway, Mr. Moron is reeling ... which is weird, since, oh, the chunk of concrete should have gone clear through his chest at that speed, flesh and bone or not.
What, you think Imp's overdoing it?
Right.
The sedan I'm hiding behind is leaking. The road under it is already stained red. I think there's someone still alive in there, but they won't be for long.
I'm not a doctor, you see. Even one of those wouldn't be much good here. First aid I can do. Pulling people out of cars doing sardine-can impressions and healing with a touch is about as beyond me as it is beyond me to not trail off on tangents during monologues.
Am I being blase about this? Perhaps. Or I'm just jaded.
Dead people don't really impress me much.
It dates back to a colorful childhood.
No. I didn't grow up on the streets. I wasn't an
orphan. My parents didn't abuse me. I didn't get ... well, okay, I may have gotten into a few fights here and there, but that's pretty much par for the course for everyone, isn't it?
My father was an archaeologist ... again, no. He did not have an old hat, and neither did he own a bull whip.
And save me the trauma of remembering the cat-o-nine-tails I found when I was going through my folks' bedroom. Oh. Too late.
Ahem.
Yeah, omitting that incident, it was a good life.
We traveled a lot, and I did like going on digs with my father. It wasn't really the history, it was more the fact that we were going to strange and exotic places and meeting strange and exotic people.
No, my mother was not, in fact, a covert operative of a government agency who'd lost her memories and upon regaining them was being hunted by every agent in the country and had to kill them all because she didn't want to be silenced.
Get. A. Life.
She used to be a biology teacher. Sadly, yet another occupational choice that didn't appeal to me whatsoever. I've never flunked a biology test in my life, though, so it must count for something ...
... although considering the fact that, by anyone's standards, I've pretty much cheated my way through school ... well, take that as you will.
So, yeah, we traveled a lot.
You're probably wondering what it's got to do with me
not being bothered by the blood, the screams, the ... you get the idea.
I'm getting to that ...
... though first, I'm ducking the return fire.
Looks like Moron's up again. Sweet merciful Mary on a pogo stick, they make them tough on this side of the pond.
Or they're importing Russian supersoldiers.
One of those two.
No, I'm not religious. I just tend to swear by it a lot.
I continue the interrupted trek, ducking random incoming debris that Our Boy Imbecile is throwing around in an attempt to make Imp become one with the pavement. To
little effect.
Kinetic energy. May seem trite, no?
'Can take a pounding and throw shit real fast sort of gal, huh? What's so special about that?'
Well, sweet-cheeks, she can make herself inertialess and make every twitch of the toes catapult her from zero to sixty in a second. And beyond.
Right now, she's bounding around like a demented, leather-jacketed, hiking-booted grasshopper.
I have a love/hate relationship with the movie 'Sixth Sense'.
Random thought?
Not really.
See, I can sympathize with the kid.
That's right, I'm 'meta' myself. Mutant. Whatever.
And no, I do not see dead people.
At least, not only those.
I'm wearing gloves right now. I usually do. Cotton, not very thick, let the skin breathe and all, and make life a whole lot easier for yours truly.
Back when I was a kid, my parents thought I had an eating disorder. Then they thought that there was something wrong with my stomach. Then ... well, it took until I was three, but things seemed to settle down.
You see, getting impressions of what the exact moment of death of what I was currently eating looked like may have been an educational experience, but it was one I sure as hell could have done without, thankyouverymuch.
I think I was three when I stopped that, though I still got impressions whenever I touched something, and I tended not to be a very tactile child when it came to playing with other kids my age.
Going to dig sites ... well, touch an old sword. Walk over an area where executions were held. That sort of thing.
They call it psychometry. Every person leaves some sort of impression, call it a psychic trail, on whatever it is they're touching. I can apparently tap into those.
And more. But that was something I found out later.
Ouch. That had to hurt.
Imp just pushed off a fifth story window, plowed though an airborne Mini - damn shame too, it was the classic model - and planted a set of brass knuckles right on Moron's jaw.
Damn, that should have taken off the head, judging by the amount of force she was using. The big lug reeled, but that's about it.
I was almost there.
Anyway, I pretty much grew up with history. And soon learned to shut up about some things that people see as historic fact, but which really aren't.
I'll tell you this though, Jean d'Arc made plate-mail look good.
My family, by the way, is not dead. They were not murdered by terrorists - we missed getting fragged by a bomb once though, which I didn't think was very cool, even at the time it happened, much to the puzzlement of my classmates from there and then - or burglars, or shot down in the streets.
Dad's gotten a lecturing spot at Oxford, mom's writing articles for a womens' mag ... oh, the tragedy of that. It pains me so.
Shyeaaaah.
Me? I did a quick tour, got a degree in archeology - which I basically cheated my way through, really - and at the tender age of 21 win most of my bread with identifying and proofing antiques.
Most.
Oh. Great. They're down to hammering one-another in-close.
Heh. Guy's still not going down, but he isn't hurting Imp any either. He hasn't caught on yet, it looks like. Well, so much the better.
Imp isn't actually feeling more than a few light slaps from what he's doing to her. Still, he isn't slowing down any, so it's a fair bet that he can do this for a while longer than she can.
I met Imp a while ago. Has to be ... more than four years now, actually. I'd gotten into college early, and you can preach to me about dishonesty as much as you want, mates. Imprinting and assimilating psychic impressions isn't quite as hard as it sounds, meaning that I do actually know all the material. Unfair? Yeah, maybe.
I may lie, I may cheat, I may steal, and maybe on occasion kill, but it's all for a good cause.
Self preservation.
Or I'm just lazy. One of the two.
Imp once dubbed me 'Hack'. It fits. It stuck.
She bumped into me. Well, no. Actually, she trashed her bike, did a limp flip through the air, and crashed helmet-first into my stomach.
Amazingly, it didn't hurt.
Either of us.
One thing led to another, and ...
Shit. Moron's caught on, ripped a sheet of aluminum plating from a van's side, and is trying to use that to cut her.
I give a shout to get his attention.
He tries to swat me with it.
My strength isn't enhanced. Neither is anything else.
I _have_, on the other hand, been wearing a prayer-bead band around my left wrist for the past six years. It's somewhere between four to four hundred and fifty years old. Belonged, originally, to a shaolin monk.
I stole it.
Deal.
It was of better use to me than it was in that pawn shop, though what it was doing there I have no idea. By now, I wear it more out of habit than need. The impressions are pretty much hardwired into my brain and muscle memory.
I hop up, brace my gloved palm on the sheet of aluminum, and vault over the top.
Then I plant both feet on the Moron's shoulders and balance like that.
How?
I fucking know kung-fu, ya?
And yeah, my head's a pretty messed up place. Some things got there by themselves, some things didn't.
Most, though, I pulled, prodded, and put there on my own.
To telepaths, I'm a walking, talking, ticking bomb in a people suit.
They call me 'Nightmare'.
I use my teeth to pull off my left glove, slap the palm of that hand into the middle of his forehead as he's raising his own hands to slap me off from my perch, and give him a taste of the things I pulled from the old dagger most people believed belonged to a cult of some sort, but which I know was the personal favorite toy of one Torquemada.
Then I'm on the ground, a little disoriented - this sort of crap always takes a bit out of me - and Imp's there, and lugging me away.
Yeah, not smart, being around this mess when the cops finally show.
Or the government goons.
Whatever the hell the President of this Stateside Asylum is doing with the current 'anti-mutant' policy he's got going doesn't have him very high on my list of favorite people.
Still, we've got a job, so we've pretty much obliged to stay here and do our frigging best, no?
It's Imp's job, to tell you the truth. I'm mostly just along for the ride, though there's a big fat commission for this sort of thing that she pays me too. Hey, friendships come and go, but money is forever.
I think I said that out loud, because she just slapped the back of my head. Well, at least the stars are going away now, and I can more or less walk.
A few weeks ago this girl, who'd been on a trip overseas at the time, disappears.
Normal case, it seems like, right?
Well, disappearance was Stateside. Only lead was her backpack, found by the local coppers and feds.
Imp, thanks in part to me, and in part to her own skills, has more than a bit of a reputation for finding things that aren't easy to find, and people who've gone under.
Missing Girl's family's pretty well off.
So, here we are.
We got here, talked to some people, looked over the pack.
Should have expected this, really. Girl's as normal as Imp or myself.
Meaning an extra angle, and a somewhat more narrowed down field for our search.
Then, when we were on the way to get our rental car and start some serious work, this idiot with a chip on his shoulder shows up and starts tossing things around, squishing people left and right.
Karma's a bitch.
What can you do, though?
Well, it doesn't look like we're going to be bored on this job. If we get out of it alive, that is.
But hey, I think we can hack it.

That was fun.
ETA: to fix formatting.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

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  Has This One Ever Come Up?
Posted by: David Lewis - 05-29-2006, 09:04 PM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play - Replies (2)

I realize this one is unlikely to exist in Warriors World as it's about the Classic DC comics character The Flash (2 - Barry Allen rather then Wally West, Jay Garrick or Bart Allen), but it's worth a look. To quote Wikipedia, A song by the band Jim's Big Ego on their album, "They're Everywhere". The song portrays Barry as a tragic character, whose perception of the world is so accelerated that all of reality appears to proceed at a snail's pace, causing him to gradually slip into depression. The band's front man, Jim Infantino is the nephew of Flash co-creator Carmine Infantino who provided the cover art for the same album.

The Ballad Of Barry Allen - Jim's Big Ego

I've got time to think about the beauty of a thousand variations,
Of the beating of the wing, of a hummingbird suspended
In the aspic of the world,
Moving slower than molasses,
As I'm off to catch the girl, who is falling off the bridge
And I'm there before she knows it,
I'll be gone before she sees me
Got my hand around her waste,
I pull her back to safety
By the time she knows what's happened
They'll be someone else who needs me
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
(Time keeps dragging on)
(Time keeps dragging on)
I've got time to think about my past,
As I dodge between the bullets
And my life was so exciting
Before I got this way
And how long ago it was now
I never can explain
By the clock that's in the tower
Or the one that's in my brain
And I'm there before you know it
I'll be one before you see me
And I'd like to get to know you
But you're talking much too slowly
And I know you wanna thank me
But I never stick around
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And you say that time keeps rushing by
It seems so slow to me
And you see a blur around you fly
But it takes too long
It seems so slow to me
(Time keeps dragging on)
I wish I'd never gone into my lab
To experiment that night
Before lightning flashed around me
And time changed speed
Now I've gotta try to be so patient
'Till calamity will strike
Because when things change in an instant
It's almost fast enough for me
And I'm there before you know it
I'll be gone before you see me
And do you think you can imagine
Anything so lonely?
And I know you'd really like me
But i never stick around
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
And on
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me
And you see a blur around you fly
It takes so long, It seems so slow
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me (Time keeps dragging on)
You complain I'm gone before you blink your eye
But it takes so long, It seems so slow
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me (Time keeps dragging on)
And wanna be there while you laugh or cry
But it takes too long, It seems so slow to me
Time keeps dragging on
Time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
In power terms I think this would grant Doug super speed or time dilation to Flash-levels, with the possible side effect of causing him great depression. That an the time difference to him would cause a single use of the song to last for days to his perspective.
You can download the song for about a dollar at the band's site www.bigego.com/index.php?...isplay=327
This is a very cool smooth song, and it really highlights for me the dark side of having superpowers, the alienating effect they must have. The lines "I'll be there before you know it, I'll be gone before you see me and do you think you could imagine anything so lonely?" Always gets to me. However the song isn't a depressing mess or anything, the catchy pop beat has endeared it to me forever, plus the fact that it references a superhero other than superman gives it huge points. I highly recommend it for fans of the flash or comics in general. For a buck it's more then worth it.
(A site with a brief description of the song and character) www.grabbingsand.com/word...ys-ballad/
(Review of the album with emphasis on the song)
www.comictreadmill.com/CT...000341.php

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  Pride Goeth (HoMM3)
Posted by: katreus - 05-29-2006, 12:05 AM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction - Replies (4)

While cleaning my room, I recently found a story I had written several years ago. I revised it, but I'd appreciate any C&C. This is the first part of it. In particular, the original version had basically no description of the various characters. Reading it now, are you getting a sense for the various characters? Can you see them? Should I add more description? Less? Also, is this an interesting start? Would you want to read more of this story? Yes, no, why?
Thanks. [Image: smile.gif] Again, any C&C is greatly appreciated.
--
Disclaimer: All the characters, with the sole exception of Taryn and her company, is of 3DO, the makers of Heroes of Might and Magic III.
The fly glided into a perfect landing. Its antennas quivered as it contemplated the great mysteries of the universe namely, whether or not the blood would gush forth, hot and full of vitality. Folding its wings back, it settled itself, adjusted its position, and extended its utensil, as a diner would prepare for a meal. A moment later, the fly died an ignoble death.
Tkeshins arse! Whose idiot idea was this? Taryn grimaced as she shook the fly guts off her hand then glanced backward to assess her companys status. Seeing the all clear signal from her lieutenants, she turned back. At six feet tall, she towered over many a man (to their dismay) and her broad shoulders enabled her to carry the heavy armor of a cavalier when she wore it anyway. Ring mail was hot and heavy especially when there was not a cloud in sight, and Taryn had compromised by wearing a leather jerkin. Her dirty blond hair spiked out beneath a battered helm and dark green eyes slid sideways. As she took in her companions calm composure, she muttered and irritably swiped at the sweat beading on her forehead.
The person in question stared ahead, head covered by a heavy, brown hood and form almost swallowed in the cloak attached to it, but sharply defined cheekbones, fairly dark complexion, and dark brown eyes made up the profile. Adela was somewhat infamous in Erathia for her past record as a battle cleric who contributed her skills only prior to a battle, preferring to conduct diplomacy instead. With the start of the war to liberate Erathia and establish its borders though, every potential commander was needed, and shed been placed in command of the Whitestone garrison for some time before being sent to help establish the border against aggressive neighbors.
Taryn, as a mercenary captain, had even been on the opposite side a number of times but the one side shed never been on was the side of the Deyjan necromancers. Leo and Co.s ill-fated venture with Deyja was a warning to all mercenaries. Necromancers gained troops by raising the dead; if you were the sole living company amongst that ilk well, Leo had never been known for his intelligence.
You are paid for this, Adela pointed out. Unlike
Us heroes. A sneer was palpable in the voice. The Eminent and Most Noble, Most Stalwart, and Most Loyal Lord Haart, lately nicknamed Lord Bastard in Taryns thoughts, thrust his horse between the two riders with Sir Christian at his heels. Lord Haart had wavy red-brown hair cascading around his face to his shoulders. His face, the object of girls sighs all over Erathia and more recently, a lovelorn poets verse, was patrician and his eyebrows loomed over his black eyes. A silver circlet and a large topaz adorned his brow.
Likewise, Sir Christian also wore a circle, although of bronze, with a diamond-shaped area to mark the middle of his brow. His overall appearance, though, was rugged with shaggy red hair, a thin mustache, and a beard, reminiscent of the time he spent as a frontiersman. Sir Christian was actually the better general, his battlefield tactics being feared throughout the world, but Lord Haart was nobility, a distant relative to Queen Catherine, and his service to the crown of Erathia, despite recent rumors of ties to a necromantic cult, has been exemplary. To not put Lord Haart in command would have been an insult not only to Lord Haart but potentially to Her Majesty, Queen Catherine.
Farking politics.
We do this for the glory of Erathia and her majesty, Queen Catherine. A mercenary scum like you has no sense of tactics or strategy, much less any concept of honor or loyalty.
Taryn stiffened but made no comment.
Lord Haart. Sir Christian. Adela bowed slightly in her saddle. An awkward silence followed. When it was clear that Taryn refused to greet him, Lord Haarts eyes narrowed.
His voice cold, he said, Im surprised your company has survived with your lack of manners, Captain. I suggest you brush up on them if you wish your hiring opportunities to continue in Erathia. The words hung in the air. After a moment, Lord Haart nodded curtly and continued forward to the head of the column with Sir Christian.
Adela let loose a sigh and eyed Taryn.
Ill be more polite tonight.
The march continued.
***

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  Harry Potter and the Screwed Up Life
Posted by: Aleh - 05-28-2006, 10:37 PM - Forum: Other People's Fanfiction - Replies (11)

Okay. I posted the first half of the first prologue below, for those of you who read it. This is the second prologue; it's not perfect and I'm not completely satisfied with the ending, but you take what you can get.
Oh, and regarding the situation with Rei... what's actually going on and what her adoptive father thinks is going on are two very different things.

Nearly ten years had passed since I had suddenly found myself in charge of the screwy ex-orphanage that I called a home. The sun rose, illuminating the golf-course that we called a front yard and lit up the post that used to hold the sign for the place before I gave up and decided to just adopt the six misfits, only to find the papers already filed. The light crept into the living room, where the photos showed the various types of mischief that a group of crazies such as ourselves could get into. Harry Potter was there, of course, tucked into his bed in his room on the second floor, but not for long. His oldest brother was awake and was demonstrating the rather surprising effectiveness of a technique he called the "hot foot".
Harry awoke with a start. Rekka snickered, extinguishing the ball of fire that he had in his hand.
"You think that's funny?" Harry asked, extending his now-glowing arm at his brother, who was promptly drenched.
"Are you up yet?" I asked from downstairs, where I was flipping some bacon for Gaara's breakfast. "We have a busy day today."
"Just a minute," two voices called, knowing that I wasn't to be annoyed from personal experience with my more... creative punishments.
Five minutes later, the whole family was seated at the dining-room table. "So, father, what do you have planned for today?" Rei asked after swallowing a bite of her cereal.
"Well," I replied, taking a second to form my response, "first, we're going into Tokyo; there's a new Naruto tankoubon out, and you know how Gaara gets when that happens."
Rekka shuddered, probably remembering what happened when he had torched one of Gaara's manga. He'd had to take laxatives for weeks to get all of the sand out of his colon. No one messed with Gaara's Naruto collection... or stood between him and anything he planned to add to it.
"After that, we're going to be visiting a zoo in England; there are some people who I want Harry to meet... or perhaps that should be 'meet again'."
Harry looked up at that. "Who?"
"Your relatives," I answered.
Robert stopped eating. "Why on earth would you want Harry to meet them?" he asked, his tone showing his contempt for the people in question.
I looked around the table and noticed that most of my kids seemed to agree with Robert's assessment, although Toushirou seemed to understand. "Because Harry needs to know," I said, suddenly rather tired. "I've told him what kind of people his so-called blood family is, but the one time he met them, he was too young to remember it. What's more, there are people who will want to put Harry back with them, and there's a chance that one of them will try to tell him that they're 'not so bad' or somesuch." Seeing my family's looks of disgust at that last bit, I decided to continue. "I'll fight that, of course," I reassured them, "but first-hand knowledge of the family in question will help Harry see through that kind of argument."
Toushirou gave me an odd look at that last bit. "Argument?" he asked, questioning my word-choice.
I shrugged. "It wouldn't be a lie strictly speaking," I responded. "The person in question actually manages to be more navely trusting than Nuku-Nuku, and would honestly believe it when he said that."
Somehow, that description of Albus Dumbledore actually managed to weird my family out.
"Look," I said, "we don't even know that they've turned out like they would have had Harry stayed with them. There's a chance that they've turned out to be less... oh, I don't know..."
Robert chirped up. "Xenophobic, racist bastards without a shred of human decency?"
Gaara smiled. "Morons who would have fit in perfectly with the Nazis?" he added.
I frowned. "Actually, no," I corrected. "The Dursleys actually had several valid complaints with the so-called Wizarding world. It doesn't excuse what they would have done, but I suspect that they simply displaced that onto Harry, then rationalized their behavior. I have to wonder how they've turned out without him there to take their frustrations out on. Regardless, they weren't fascists, so Gaara's description isn't accurate, although Robert's was rather uncannily so."
By this point, Harry was scowling fiercely into his Lucky Charms.
"Look at it this way," I finished, "if they turned out that way anyway, the zoo has a nice snake exhibit."
Considering the evil grin that suddenly graced Harry's features, I knew that I had said the right thing.
-------------------

Harry Potter and the Screwed-Up Life

Prologue Two

by

Aleh
-------------------

Two hours later, Harry, whose evil grin had faded into a smirk, was sitting in the back of a taxi with Rei and Robert. I was sitting in front, having left Gaara, Rekka and Toushirou with Nuku-Nuku, and reading a manga.
"Now, Robert, Harry," I said, having come to a decision, "remember -- behave yourselves. I don't want anything... odd... happening unless I start it."
"I'm not going to do anything," replied Robert, "honestly..."
Unfortunately, I didn't believe him. The problem was that screwy things happened all too often in our family, and, well, they were normally just part of life, but I wanted to at least give the Dursleys a chance, and the usual chaos that followed us around was a bit much at times, even for us. Once, Robert had come home from school with a group of three tenkaijuu -- the ancient variety; I still don't know where he found them, as the heavenly beasts aren't talking. Another time, Rekka had managed to get lost in Konohagakure after getting there through a closet on the third floor of our house, something that was quite an accomplishment, given that we live in a two-story building and that Konohagakure is apparently in a parallel universe. Incidents like that had become an almost routine fact of life amongst our little band of screwed-up nutcases, even disregarding the more common 'disturbances' such as kidnapping attempts, assassination attempts, or serial rapists. On the other hand, the kids weren't the only ones with screwed-up lives -- the kids had started jokingly calling my so-called love-life the "demon-of-the-month club".
But today, nothing was going to go totally insane. Today was a day for normalcy. Okay, so maybe not Dursley normalcy, but what passed for normalcy in our rather messed-up lives. Today, no pedophiles would teleport in while I wasn't watching and try to rape Rei. Today, no alien brain-snakes would try to take me as a host. Today, no demons would show an allergic reaction to Harry's breakfast cereal. Today was going to be a perfectly normal day in our rather messed-up lives, a beacon of calm amidst our daily chaos. And if I actually believed that, I could probably convince myself that I could turn a profit buying a quitclaim deed to the Brooklyn Bridge. Still, one could hope.
While we rode, Robert complained to Harry. He didn't like cars very much, a side effect of being able to change his feet into rocket-powered roller skates capable of outpacing just about any "normal" land vehicle. Unfortunately, this was around as normal as it got for us; as much as I loved my adoptive children, I wished the chaos would calm down a little.
It was a bright, cheerful Saturday, and the zoo was packed with families. Given my luck, I wasn't entirely certain that all of them were human, but as long as none of them were trying to suck out my soul, drink my blood, or otherwise harm me or mine, I really didn't care. I bought all of us except for Rei chocolate ice creams at the entrance; she prefered lemon sorbet.
I had the most normal morning I'd had in a long time. I was careful to keep an eye out for the Dursleys, remembering what Skuld had told me about this trip. By lunchtime, Robert was starting to get tired of the animals and Harry was looking forward to the reptile house. We ate in the zoo lunchroom, and when one of our neighbors, a fat, blonde-haired kid, threw a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream, we all had a bit of a chuckle.
I should have known that it was too normal to last.
After lunch, we visited the reptile house. Rei didn't like it much, given her tendency to avoid dark places, but it wasn't dark enough for me to have trouble seeing her, and there weren't any overly-dark corners for a would-be rapist to drag her into. A large variety of lizards and snakes were on display, and Harry seemed particularly interested in a rather sociable boa constrictor with whom he was carrying on a conversation. Robert, meanwhile, was taking a look at the chameleon exhibit, and Rei was latched firmly to my side.
"Don't worry, Rei," I reassured her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I won't let anyone try anything. Why don't you take a look around?"
Rei just shivered and tightened her grip. It was at that moment that a rather ugly middle-aged woman approached me.
"Rather shy, isn't she?" she asked, turning a sympathetic eye towards Rei.
I sighed and tightened my grip on Rei's shoulder. "I really wish it was that simple," I answered. "Ordinary shyness I can deal with, but rape trauma is on a completely different level."
The woman's eyes widened. "You mean..." she paused for a moment as the realization set in. "The poor dear..."
I shook my head. "They weren't successful, but even the attempt is traumatic enough for a young girl, don't you think?"
"Oh, my, yes," the woman agreed. "From the way she's acting, I take it it was fairly recent?"
I frowned. "Well, the latest incident was... around a week ago, actually, so yes."
The woman's eyes widened further. "The latest incident?" she asked, startled.
At that point, Robert, noticing Rei's behavior, abandoned the chameleons and came back to us. "Come on, Rei," he said, pulling Rei off of me, "no one's hiding in the shadows... and if they are, Dad'll just chop their bits off."
Seeing Rei starting to take my earlier advice, I focused my attention back on the woman who I had been speaking to.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"Rei," I said, letting some of my exhaustion show, "seems to attract perverts like a magnet."
Just then, a bit of motion drew my eye as a spectacularly overweight blonde kid knocked Harry to the side to get a better look at the snake Harry had been chatting with. I moved to intervene, but was interrupted by the six of us -- me, my kids, the woman I had been chatting with, and the fat kid who turned out to be her son -- being kidnapped by alien xenoproctologists. Some days, it just doesn't pay to get up in the morning.
-------------------
The damned xenoproctologists were more trouble than they were worth. After Rei panicked and tore a hole through their ship with her AT field, the idiots were stranded on Earth and had taken to referring to her as "she-who-must-not-be-probed" in hushed tones when they thought I couldn't hear. Of course, stranded as they were, they had no place to stay while they awated rescue, and it wasn't like a group of four Roswell Greys could just stroll into the local Motel Six and rent a room, so I wound up offering them the cupboard under my stairs to use until their superiors could send a rescue party. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, thanks to the screwed-up physics of my house, and a cubic mile of space was far more than they deserved... even if the area was infected with really cute little eight-legged rabbits that bred like the eternally-pregnant legless furballs that had taken over the pantry.
Edit: Added that last paragraph. It was originally intended to be the start of a third prologue, but it fit in better here.-- This message brought to you by Ely Lilly, makers of SeraFem: Happy Pills for PMS.
[Image: Aleh.jpg]

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  And another AMG image...
Posted by: robkelk - 05-28-2006, 08:01 PM - Forum: Drunkard's Walk V: Another Divine Mess You've Gotten Me Into - Replies (3)

Presumably from the new season of the TV series; definitely on that server with a short retention time.
Looking at this, I have to wonder what she's taking apart...
(Edit: Link changed to a un-fuzzy copy of the image, still on the same server)

-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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  Showdown
Posted by: TheTwisted1 - 05-28-2006, 07:54 PM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play - Replies (7)

I wonder what Doug's powers would do with this Lemon Demon song:
Old Godzilla was hopping around
Tokyo City like a big playground
when suddenly Batman burst from the shade
and hit Godzilla with a Batgrenade
Godzilla got pissed and began to attack
but didn't expect to be blocked by Shaq
who proceeded to open up a can of Shaq Fu
when Aaron Carter came out of the blue
and he started beating up Shaquille O'Neal
then they both got flattened by the Batmobile
but before it could make it back to the Batcave
Abraham Lincoln popped out of his grave
and took an AK47 out from under his hat
and blew Batman away with a rat-a-tat-tat
but he ran out of bullets and he ran away
because Optimus Prime came to save the day
this is the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny
good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see
and only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
this is the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny
Godzilla took a bite out of Optimus Prime
like Scruff McGruff took a bite out of crime
and then Shaq came back covered in a tire track
but Jackie Chan jumped out and landed on his back
and Batman was injured, and trying to get steady
when Abraham Lincoln came back with a machete
but suddenly something caught his leg and he tripped
Indiana Jones took him out with his whip
then he saw Godzilla sneaking up from behind
and he reached for his gun which he just couldn't find
'cause Batman stole it and he shot and he missed
and Jackie Chan deflected it with his fist
then he jumped in the air and did a summersault
while Abraham Lincoln tried to pole vault
onto Optimus Prime, but they collided in the air
then they both got hit by a Care Bear Stare, oooh
this is the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny
good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see
and only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
this is the Ultimate Showdown...
angels sang out in immaculate chorus
down from the heavens descended Chuck Norris
who deliver a kick which could shatter bones
into the crotch of Indiana Jones
who fell over on the ground, writhing in pain
as Batman changed back into Bruce Wayne
but Chuck saw through his clever disguise
and he crushed Batman's head in between his thighs
then Gandalf the Grey and Gandalf the White and
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail"'s Black Knight and
Benito Mussolini and The Blue Meanie and
Cowboy Curtis and Jambi the Genie
Robocop, the Terminator, Captain Kirk, and Darth Vader
Lo Pan, Superman, every single Power Ranger
Bill S. Preston and Theodore Logan,
Spock, The Rock, Doc Ock, and Hulk Hogan
all came out of no where lightning fast
and they kicked Chuck Norris in his cowboy ass
it was the bloodiest battle the world ever saw
with civilians looking on in total awe
and the fight raged on for a century
many lives were claimed, but eventually
the champion stood, the rest saw their better:
Mr. Rogers in a bloodstained sweater
this is the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny
good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see
and only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
this is the Ultimate Showdown...
this is the Ultimate Showdown...
this is the Ultimate Showdown...
of Ultimate Destiny
--Lemon Demon, "The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny"

-The Twisted OneEverything is holy, even the nuclear bomb.
--Zodiac Mindwarp "Elvis Died for You"
"If you
wish to converse with me, define your
terms."

--Voltaire

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  A Song to Avoid for the Utena Step
Posted by: TheTwisted1 - 05-28-2006, 07:51 PM - Forum: The Game Everyone Loves To Play - Replies (6)

Here's one you don't want to see in the Utena Step:
Oh you, you're so hard to get to
Oh you, you don't wanna play
You were no better before
I sent a letter before
I sent a dream to last night
From the end of the world.
Oh you, you keep me hanging round & round & round & round
Oh you, look at the trouble I've found
You were no better before
I sent a letter before
I sent a dream to you last night
From the end of the world.
I saw you last night, but you couldn't answer
You were a lonely little sidewalk dancer
When I woke up I could not stand it
You were gone, but I got to hand it to you.
Dream to you last night
From the end of the world.
Oh please, if this is a game I wish someone would win
Please, just let her fly to be upon the wind
You were no better before
I sent a letter before
I sent a dream to you baby last night
From the end of the world.
You were no better before
I sent a letter before
I sent a dream to you baby last night
From the end of the world.
I sent a dream to you baby, last night
From the end of the world
I sent a dream to you, babe
From the end of the world.
I sent a dream...
To you baby...
From the end of the world.
--Electric Light Orchestra, "From the End of the World"
-The Twisted OneEverything is holy, even the nuclear bomb.
--Zodiac Mindwarp "Elvis Died for You"
"If you
wish to converse with me, define your
terms."

--Voltaire

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