The London Times reports that al Qaeda is specifically targeting Christian children for kidnapping. The children are then sold into domestic slavery and the sex trade, with al Qaeda pocketing the profits.
www.timesonline.co.uk/art...24,00.html

Some time ago I read a story where Harry Potter became the first male Slayer. He trains with the female slayers during the summer and when he returns to Hogwarts, finds Luna to be a new Slayer in need of training.
A side-plot has Oz teaching Remus how to master his inner wolf.
It was a decent story, but I foolishly didn't bookmark it. I thought I was a FFN story, but quick search there didn't find it. Can anyone give me a pointer?

I swear, it started out as an ordinary "power song" post. But my muse wanted it written fic-style, and I started to just sketch it out, but she wanted me to play fair with tactics, and then... Well. See for yourself. Or just skip down to the actual song lyrics...

I slipped over the top of the ridgeline like a stalking snake, slow and silent and flat on my stomach. Between my field and and digital camo I'd traded in my usual leathers for, I was fairly confident I couldn't be spotted, but while the opposition might not have any metatalents, they were among the best at their chosen trade. And this mission was too important to take even the most minimal avoidable risks.
So I took it slowly, averaging something under a foot per minute, until my head was high enough to take in the view. I had an good view over most of the target zone, a narrow river valley that was almost a gorge, just like the map and brief had predicted.
Of course, the opposition had good maps, too, and knew what good overlook positions were good for. They hadn't had time to seed every potential spot with remote sensors (probably), but it there was no chance they didn't have them all under the best observation they could manage. Which is why my helmet and goggles were matted to eliminate reflection, and I was moving like molasses in January.
My spot wasn't the best --no point in being obvious-- but it was good. Still, the range was a good two thousand meters, and my eyes aren't *that* good. I took my time, conscious of the mission clock ticking in my brain, and picked out the most likely positions of their ambuscade; the spots *I'd* have chosen in their shoes. Then I slipped back behind the crest of the ridge as slowly as I'd come, and began working my way sideways. What I was about to do called for a certain type of position, and I'd picked out three candidates on my way up. I squirmed towards the one with the best sightlines, crept up to just below the crest, and rolled over on my back. I triple-checked to make *sure* my external speakers were off, and called up the song that was the reason I was here.
Then I waited, as my ears filled with the hum of an over-driven amplifier, and I felt my magegift begin to whisper quietly to itself.
That's one of the reasons I don't use this song very often: it takes its own sweet time to 'power up.' My few experiments with trimming the opening instrumentals to 'cut to the chase' didn't quite qualify as backlashes, but the headache lasted for *hours.* I guess it comes from the part of my personality that makes me such a good kitbasher -- even now, I couldn't help but feel a certain thrill watching all the parts materialize out of thin air and move into position, interlocking like a finely-machined puzzle into a long, darkly gleaming shape of polymer and steel, with hint of oil.
I don't know what it is, really -- I've had various gun geeks who've seen it call it everything from a Dragunov to a Walther 3000 to at least three different models of Barret. What I can say is that it's a long gun, scoped and suppressed, has a bolt action and magazine feed, and is as accurate as any rifle ever made.
Of course, I have to admit it's a bit of a cheat.
At the 33sec mark, the vocals kicked in and the rifle completed itself with a final well-oiled "click." I cycled a round into the chamber and rolled over to snake my way up into my chosen shooting position.
I've never had a really strong opinion one way or the other on firearms -- oh, when I was young, I learned the basics like most American kids, and I enjoyed it well enough, but I never felt really *passionate* about it. And once my metatalent kicked in, handling a butter knife was risky enough, much less a firearm. Besides, my talent usually gave me better, more finely controllable options.
Still, there were situations where the opposition had teleport blocks, and energy detectors, and telepathy screens, or sometimes just too darn much luck, and the only option is to fall back on more old-fashioned methods, as perfected in a place called Stalingrad.
Not that I'm above using my unique advantages for all they're worth, though.
My chosen firing position had foliage that covered me as a came head-and-shoulders over the ridgeline, seating the rifle butt against my shoulder and snugging my cheek against the stock as my sights settled onto the first target position I'd picked out below. The scope, as always, was zeroed to the range I was expecting to shoot at and set at a zoom level that struck the best balance between field of view and magnification.
My first target was, as I'd expected, a sniper in full ghillie suit partway up the far side of the valley, stationed to watch for someone like me. Even through the scope, it took me a couple seconds to resolve the difference between him and the moss-covered log he was covering behind -- this guy was good. I settled my crosshairs between his shoulders, let my breath trickle out slowly, and the recoil caught me by surprise as I saw him twitch -- somehow, he'd seen me just before I fired.
That's another reason I tend to avoid using this song. I'm a soldier -- I'm prepared to kill if I have to. I've done it. But something about sniping, as much as it makes sense pragmatically, is just a bit too cold-blooded for me. Too... impersonal. Listen to me -- next thing you know, I'll be blathering about honorable combat and issuing formal challenges on the battlefield. Although, it sure *would* confoozle the heck out of the bad guys....
My round left the muzzle doing a shade over Mach 2, and I started cheating. For the first thirty-plus meters, it was still within my talent's effective radius, and still under my control -- I could feel the trajectory taking shape, project it out through gravity and turbulence, see where it would end, and tweak it to within millimeter accuracies. The first shot really didn't need it -- my aim had been spot-on. But I was already coming to bear on the next target, and the rest of this engagement would have to be snapshots.
A mortar team with good overhead cover -- one down, one ducked fast enough. I pegged a round into the tube and moved on.
A periscope, looking for me over the top of the well-concealed foxhole. I put a round through the upper mirror, and another into the machine gunner casting about for a target in the next hole over.
Then something went *zing!* through my field, close enough to my head to make me fumble my next shot, even *with* the cheat -- the sniper on *my* side of the valley, who'd been blocked by terrain, had somehow made my position, despite my flash and sound suppression, and gambled that I didn't have a partner across the way. He'd thrown himself arse-over-teakettle down the slope, fetched up against a boulder (that *must* have hurt), and taken a darned credible snapshot at me. Without my field, he might had taken my head off. But as it was....
I cycled the bolt again and swung back to where the periscope had been, and sure 'nuff there was an officer or noncom who'd crawled out of his hole and was peering around the base of a tree with a pair of binocs that were barely out of the grass. I took the time to shoot out both lenses just as an object lesson, and then I saw the antiarmor missile arcing up, over, and down in my direction.
"Ohhhh, you *wascally* wabbits," I sang out as I got my legs under me and kicked off, throwing myself over the edge just before the missile hit five feet from my position with a hollow WHUMP. But now I was doing "The Man From Snowy River," except without a horse, and *boy* did that jumble of rocks look unfriendly....
I spent the rest of the engagement hiding in the rocks, playing "I'm Alive," and generally grousing about my lot in life while the assault force I'd been opening the door for rolled up the riverbed and wiped out the rest of the opposition, in a stiffly-fought but inevitable fight. Then I walked out to say hi to the boys I'd shot and compliment them on how much they were improving. Nice thing about my rifle -- it throws what I *want* it to throw, even if the projectiles violate the laws of physics. Like supersonic rounds that sting like heck, but don't actually do any harm. The boys got to use live ammo, but they *were* nice enough to replace their grenades, mortar rounds, and missile warheads with smoke rounds.
And that's how I ended my third week as an assistant guest instructor at the JSOC Special Tactics Combat Training School. Next week, we'll start on the "Counter-Metatalent Methodology" field exercises -- I can't *wait.* The boys've been getting a bit cocky this week, and it's time to remind them who the Big Rabbit is on this campus.
FILTER - Hey Man Nice Shot
I wish I would've met you.
Now it's a little late.
What you could'a taught me;
I could've saved some face.
They think that your early ending was all wrong.
For the most part, they're right;
But look how they all got strong.
That's why I say
Hey man nice shot.
Good shot man.
Thats why I say
hey man nice shot.
good shot man.
CHORUS:
A man has gun,
A man has fun,
Nice shot!
Now that the smoke's gone;
And the air is all clear;
Those who were right there;
Got a new kind of fear.
You'd fight and you were right,
But they were just too strong.
They'd stick it in your face and
Let you smell what they consider wrong.
That's why I say
Hey man nice shot.
A good shot man.
Thats why I say
Hey man nice shot.
What a good shot man.
CHORUS X4
Oh nice shot man!
I wish I would've met you,
I wish I would've met you,
I wish I would've met you,
I wish I would've met you;
I'd say nice shot!
Similar to "White Wedding," in that it supplies Doug with a sniper rifle optimized to his situation, which throws whatever ammo he can imagine, even if its behavior is inconsistent with the laws of ballistics and physics. Aside from their impact behavior, though, each round has to 'play fair' with Newton and Tartaglia after it leaves his AOE, which means that sufficiently bad wind conditions or unanticipated interference can still push the round off course.
The magazine provides ammo-of-choice for as long as the song lasts (just over 5 minutes for the standard track), after which the rifle dissipates, as do the remnants of the bullets.
The rifle does not finish assembling until the vocals kick in, and attempts to use shortened versions of the song consistently fail with mild backlash-ish effects -- apparently Doug's Inner Gunsmith *likes* piecing together his gun every time.

Knowing the habits (and available hard drive space) of the website's maintainer, this Megami magazine image of Peorth and Belldandy, promoting the second TV season of AMG, should be available until the end of the month... but I wouldn't risk counting on that. So if you want it, grab it now while you can...

-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

Well, I know I haven't been keeping up with the schedule for the FATE/Change Dusk and Rogue Bunny threads, and unfortunately, it looks like I'm not going to improve much in the immediate future. Partly this is due to the fact that I've just replaced my computer's old, damaged video card and have yet to get over the fact that I can once again play, well, anything, but a bigger factor has been my discovery of an opportunity to bribe Aishuu/Lady Quicksilver into returning her work, Renaissance, to her active list... since that fic has been one of my favorites ever since I first read it, you can imagine that I've jumped at the chance.
How's it going? Wellll...

...and two unrelated concepts from completely different Steps suddenly pop into view holding hands, and I go "wow, I can do something with that".
I had one of those moments on my drive home from work tonight.
Rei Ayanami, meet Horcruxes. Horcruxes, meet Rei Ayanami.-- Bob
---------
I loot faster. -- Peggy Schroeck, D&D game, in response to a crisis situation that arises while she's searching the bodies of four recent opponents.

I was NeoRaven, but I finally managed to get a new eZborad ID. Hey all. Hopefully I'll be able to get my fic up off the ground sometime soon here.

(Dry your eyes, dry your eyes, dry your eyes, dry your eyes)
Dry your eyes and quietly bear this pain with pride
For heaven shall remember the silent and the brave
And promise me they will never see the fear within our eyes (my eyes are closed)
We will give strength to those who still remain
So bury fear, for fate draws near
And hide the signs of pain
With noble acts the bravest souls
Endure the heart's remains
Discard regret that in this debt
A better world is made
That children of a newer day might remember
And avoid our fate
(Prepare for battle)
And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be your light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winterborn
Without denying a faith is come
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winterborn
Hold your head up high for there is no greater love
Think of the faces of the people you defend (you defend)
And promise me they will never see the tears within our eyes (my eyes are closed)
Although we are men, with mortal sins, angels never cry
So bury fear, for fate draws near
And hide the signs of pain
With noble acts the bravest souls
Endure the heart's remains
Discard regret that in this debt
A better world is made
That children of a newer day might remember
And avoid our fate
(Prepare for battle)
And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be your light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winterborn
Without denying a faith in God
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winterborn
And in the fury of this darkest hour
I will be your light
A lifetime for this destiny
For I am Winterborn
And in this moment I will not run
It is my place to stand
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands (bloodied hands)
Within this moment
I am for you though better men have failed
I will give my life for love
For I am Winterborn
And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be the light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winterborn
Without denying a faith in Man
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winterborn
And in my dying
I'm more alive than I have ever been
I will make this sacrifice
For I am Winterborn
-- CrXshadows, Winterborn (This Sacrifice)

-- Bob
---------
For Jor-El so loved the Earth, he sent his only begotten son...

One thing that I've noticed about Fujishima's solo works is that they appear to be interconnected. It started in a contest announcement, where You're Under Arrest's Miyuki and Natsumi prayed to win the contest and Belldandy (not yet from Oh My Goddess) told them they weren't eligible...
Since then, Oh My Goddess's Belldandy and Keiichi have shown up in a Christmas story in the You're Under Arrest manga, You're Under Arrest's Natsumi announced the drag-race meet in the third episode of the Oh My Goddess OAV series, the Super Seven that You're Under Arrest's Sena drove (set c. 1995) shows up again in eX-Driver (set c. 2115), and so on.
Is this something that Bob and Chris are noting (or were even aware of) in DW V / OMB II?
On the plus side, it opens up a few new subplot possibilities. On the minus side, it enlarges the cast significantly...

-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

Because I feel like it.
Well, see, I was wandering through the TV Tropes site, and I got to thinking about all this self-inserts that we've got going 'round here.
And, okay, yeah, I'm putting off working on F/CD.
Anyway, all of the 'shinobi-Nates' - TGNH, Seven Substitute Shinobi, F/CD - use more formal speech patterns than you'd really guess seeing their dialog written in English - in short, keigo. Both they and that poor sap currently working for SEARRS use watashi, always. Yes, both I and they know that 'manly men' don't do that. That's the point.
For the latter, with the mentioned exception and one other, he mostly talks the same way Canon-Tate does... that other exception is that, by the time the 'second OAV' starts, he's switched to using kisama to Sister Yukariko, though I know that I haven't shown them interacting yet.
So, what about Katsu, or Rikou? Or, for that matter, Doug?
Ja, -n

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"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"