Arm Slaves, from Full Metal Panic, are roughly eight meters tall.
Guymelefs, from Escaflowne, are the same size.
The Lambda Driver is a device which rewrites the laws of physics according to its operator's will.
Dornkirk's Fate Machine is a device which rewrites the laws of physics according to its operator's will.
The Whispered contain advanced knowledge buried within them by agencies unknown.
The Draconians of Atlantis had advanced knowledge which has since vanished to quarters unknown.
Coincidence?
===========

===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."

Someone's gone and done a rather spectacular Full Metal Panic music video using the song 'Edge Of The Earth' by 30 Seconds To Mars. I must say, it's an excelent match with superb editing skills. Go and see! I demand it!
Link! ^^
BTW: I went out and bought that album today. I think I might just steal that one line from 'Edge Of The Earth' for my character since he's one lucky SOB...
"It's not a matter of luck, it's just a matter of time."-NeoRaven
"I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe
Sponsored by Black Aeronaut Technologies -
Aerospace solutions for the discerning spacer.-NeoRaven

"I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe

Sponsored by Black Aeronaut Technologies -

Aerospace solutions for the discerning spacer.

I've finally gotten my Wikispace for Black Aeronaut Studios as fixed up as it's gonna get for now. I'll try and keep it updated.
There you'll find information about my stories, what parts I'm working on, and even some image links. Suggestions on how I can improve it are most welcome.
blackaeronaut.wikispaces.com
BTW: Bob, I think you might just be receiving chapter one of Guardian Angel in your email sometime in January. Now, I'm no big fan of the strictly ASCII style of presentation, but I do prefer to put my stuff into an easy and clean text with HTML tags so just about any web browser can read them. That okay with you?-NeoRaven
"I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe
Sponsored by Black Aeronaut Technologies -
Aerospace solutions for the discerning spacer.-NeoRaven

"I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe

Sponsored by Black Aeronaut Technologies -

Aerospace solutions for the discerning spacer.

given Doug's aversion to dealing with gods and all.... and conferring on himself the ability to do real damage to a god would, at best, piss them off... and it would be hard to figure out just what effect iit has, for that matter.
The song? Steely Dan's Godwhacker. The only effect is that Doug can feel his metagift working hard, and for the duration, immortals ... aren't.
ETA: Still, it would be very useful in, for example, a Buffy step circa the Glory arc. Or Highlander, I suppose.
ETA2: An immortal he played it around would probably recognise what was happening, though, so maybe Hexe could have told him what was going on and to never, ever use it again...
- CD still thinking on some more 'project a power' songs.That which does not kill us... has made its last mistake.
SERVO: Loook *deeeeply* into my eyes... Tell me, what do you see?
CROW: (hypnotized) A twisted man who wants to inflict his pain upon others.
" It's crazy to try to spell out all the mega-nooks and hyper-crannies of a Borg contrivance." - Doug Drexler
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

dunno if I've posted this here before, but it almost certainly was hosed in the Hacker attack from a while ago.
the drabble
***
HuAnn Jefferson swore softly from the back seat of the Lincoln Geomancer as she reloaded her twin enchanted automatic pistols. Meanwhile, the animated Tyrannosaurus skeleton gained pace by pace on the sport utility vehicle carrying the plucky UNICORN team.

"What the hell are we going to do, Crimson?" she asked the redheaded sorcerer beside her.
"Cant talk," he replied. "Busy." His fingers a blur, he picked out commands on the laptop in front of him. Several occult symbols flickered briefly across its screen like confetti and coalesced into a rapidly scrolling pattern. "Its going to take some time for me to code this spell. Try to hold it off for two more minutes."
"Just great," she muttered. "If Id known I was going to be fighting skeletons, I wouldnt have gone for the silver nitrate bullets."
"If shed known, she says," chimed in the driver, a fox chimera called Reynard. "If youd had your way, wed have been so loaded down with depleted uranium rounds that we couldnt airlift you with all the cargo carpets in the Army!"
"Shaddap, Reynard!" She gritted her teeth and took aim through the broken window behind her on the menacing skeletal theropod. In a mere second, she had the absolute certainty that her shots would have their maximum effect if she shot . . . NOW!
Twin cracks echoed as the guns fired, and HuAnn knew her shots hit exactly where they were supposed to hit. For all the good it did.
"Why the hell do these museums have to reinforce the display skeletons so much?" she asked of no one in particular.
Grinning, Reynard answered, "So that when atomic liches trade zombie slaves for powerstones, they can animate them and not fear their investment being reduced to dust by international antiterrorists bent on saving the world? Its just a theory Im working on."
Stony silence filled the sport utility vehicle as it zigged and zagged through the underbrush. Then Crimson unleashed a Rebel yell that nearly shattered the eardrums of the much-put-upon sharpshooter.
"Got it!" he exulted. "All I need to do now is execute it!" Softly, he began chanting.
"Checksum error [8A 33 56 F0 E4]. Clear [E9 00 12 BD 43]. Execute program 'DRAGON_SLAVE.MGS' [E8 C6 22 19 A . Return."
Magical energy began whirling about the sorcerer, sucking photons into a sphere of red energy floating an inch above the keyboard. Gingerly, he picked up the ball, turned in his seat and let it fly. It streaked towards the gaping maw behind them, and impacted. A blinding flash, a clap of thunder and a fine rain of plaster and mana-active polymer raining down on the Geomancer indicated the success of the spell.
HuAnn looked at both her companion and his laptop. Shaking her head in wonder, she holstered her guns.
"Where did you get that thing anyway?" she asked warily.
Crimson looked confused for a moment, then smiled softly.
"Why," he replied, "from the Sharper E-mage catalog, of course!"
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

Good Afternoon,
Bob -can I drop Crossroads off here, or do you need some more time?
Last year I did the first IST holiday special - This years has been started, but I am unlikely to finish it before the holiday - so here is the start. (the 04 story vanished in the crash)

IST Holiday 05

Forget it Naoko. Hes not going to do it. Simon said. Ive asked him. Youve asked him. We could try and get Cammy to ask him, but Im not sure shes willing to do that. Face it Virginia, theres no Santa Claws this year.
Simon considered his partner in crime for a moment. Naoko Yoshida. Ace computer maven, former Olympic hopeful gymnast, and busybody/manipulator supreme. She was in the midst of organizing the IST Santas Grotto, and had hit the inevitable Santa wall. Miguel Macho Santos, her normal Kris Cringle of choice had begged off for the second year running. The invulnerable masqederos wrestler had already committed to spending the holidays in Mexico with his grandchildren. This left a large, Santa-shaped hole for Naoko to fill, and she was making every effort to shove an unwilling werewolf into that hole. So far Thibor had resisted guilt, teary eyes and the almost unheard of offer of Naoko picking up a dinner tab. The werewolf was made of sterner stuff; or more likely, properly cynical of Naokos manipulative motivations.
Chief. Naoko said solemnly, her freckled, pixie features falling into a stoic mask. We shall never give up. We shall pester him on the beaches, we shall pester him on the landing grounds, we shall pester him in the offices, streets and hills. We shall never surrender until his furry, Slavic, backside is seated firmly in Santas grotto.
When did this become we? Simon asked rhetorically and then caught himself.
Okay, youre the Prime Minister in this ill fated escapade. Whats your plan?
I call it Market Garden. Naoko said with the same somber gravitas. Garden for the magical grotto, and Market for the price that will be paid if Thibor doesnt agree to do it.
Wait Simon cocked an ear. My ancestors They are speaking to me They say. Run Simon Bitterbuck Run far away Little Freckled Fox is about to do something that both of you will regret Take her with you Buy her dinner Find another Santa
I like the buy her dinner part. Naoko grinned. If I can pull this off without saying another word to Thibor will you take me to that German tavern he was talking about last week?
Not a word to Thibor? Simon considered. He was going to end up taking Naoko out anyway; making the bet wouldnt make a bit of difference, other than moving him slightly away from the blame explosion that would follow whatever she had planned. Done.
Simon. Cammy emerged from her office as if on cue. Would you be so good as to run through recent air traffic and security reports through Heathrow. Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary. Naoko, the Major has asked me once again to turn down your request. I know that it is an excellent cause, but he does not want a repeat of last years fiasco. As a personal favour to me, could you please stop pestering him.
Its okay. You can tell him hes off the hook. Naoko said. Ive lined up someone else.
Champion. Cammy smiled, delighted that the matter had been dropped with grace and dignity. Did Miguel change his plans?
No, hes still in Mexico. Naoko said. But Colonel Byrd agreed, so everything is good to go.
Colonel Byrd?!? Cammy was understandably distressed at the thought of their commanding officer in the role. Please tell me we are not talking about Colonel Jonathan Byrd.
He said he was chuffed about the idea. Naoko continued. How bad can it be?
Cammy tried to respond. Then she tried again. The words just werent there. That wasnt entirely true. The words were there, but it would take several volumes to properly detail how bad it could be. An entire library could be devoted to just how bad it could be and it would not even begin to fully describe, let alone capture the degree of malicious glee, off-handed savagery, and laddish, soccer hooligan cruelty that was the Colonel Byrd experience. With a quick shake of her head Cammy turned sharply and retreated back to her office.
And we have a winner. Lucky! Naoko announced as the display on the phone system indicated that Cammy was making a call. She spun around in her chair and pumped both fists in the air.
Naoko. Simon said carefully. What happens when Thibor ask Colonel Byrd about this?
He says that he understands, and will step aside for Thibor. Naoko said smugly.
You didnt actually ask him? Did you? For the first time in the conversation Simon seemed genuinely distressed.
Ill tell you over Rheinischer Sauerbraten mit Kartoffelklen und Apfelmus. Naoko said with no small amount of gustatory glee.
* * *
There. Cammy made a final adjustment on the beard and lightly patted the pillow that was bulging Thibors waist out to a more Santa-ish profile. You will be fine Major. Its only for a few hours.
Bother. Thibor grated from behind the huge white beard. It was not the word he normally would have chosen, but it was the only one that he was allowed to use under the circumstances. Another eight hours of screaming, crying, urinating, defecating, gurgling, and drooling; and that was just the parents. It could be worse. Thibor let his gaze fall to Cammys short red elf boots, following them up her lithe, smoothly muscled legs, to the insanely short hem of her bright green Santas Little Helper skirt. Cammy caught the lecherous gaze and pulled the skirt back down from where it had ridden up again.
I do wish that whomever designed this outfit had exercised restraint and sewn a more appropriate hemline. Cammy said.
Is true. Thibor nodded sagely. Two inches higher and it could have been belt.
Okay. I think everything is ready. Naoko bustled in. Cammy frowned. Naokos skirt was several inches longer than hers and nowhere near as tight. You look great Thibor! Lets hear your laugh.
Paris, Britney, Christina. Thibor rumbled, his pillow belly shaking.
Not again. Naoko rolled her eyes. Its supposed to be Ho! Ho! Ho! Oh Very funny.
Ho! Ho! Ho! Thibors grin seemed far more genuine now. Is better?
It will do. Naoko said. Do you have the gifts ready?
Right here. Thibor gestured broadly to the bag that was set up next the throne. His hand caught the top and knocked it over, scattering several brightly colored packages across the floor.
Honestly Thibor. Cammy bent down to pick up the packages, stuffing them back into the sack. Do be a little more careful.
I love this season. The food, the presents, the snow. Thibor said. There is nothing like pure white covering on field of elf.
And what is that supposed to mean? Cammy blushed and tugged her skirt back down; suddenly aware that bending over had sent her skirt up far higher than proper decorum merited, revealing her knickers in the process. Five days to Christmas and already vying for the naughty list are we?
Nice list is vastly overrated. Thibor said. But am Santa, so cannot stay on naughty list - am sure that there is escape clause.
Very well. Cammy managed to grin through the blush. But if you try to use the When I think about you I touch my elves line, I will personally fill your stocking with coal and then beat you to death with it. Are we understood Major?
Affirmative. Thibor returned the grin and then turned on Naoko. Is Colonel Byrd unhappy at losing seat?
Nope. Naoko shook her head, sending the small jingle bells at the end of her long elf-
hat ringing. He said something about wandering down to the pub and becoming the Ghost of Christmas Pissed.
Will scare Dickens out of Marley. Thibor observed, collecting a groan and a wince from his audience. And no holiday footy and Guinness for Tiny Tim. So what is in sack?
The usual. Naoko said. Toys, games, gift certificates. Everyone was really generous this year. We even managed to score some really good corporate sponsorship.
I noticed signs on way in. IST Santas Grotto brought to you by Virgin. Is very Christmassy. He considered for a moment. Am sure that if was at little stable in Bethlehem, there would be large sign next to manger. Is also saying brought to you by Virgin. Oh, and is sign on donkey saying Virgin Mobile.
Its okay Naoko. Cammy said soothingly. Hes almost done.
And what is it with Joseph? Is carpenter Has virgin, has wood. Okay. Am ready now. Thibor settled into the throne like chair. We who are about to deal with children salute you.
* * *
You know, hes really quite good at this. Naoko sidled up to Cammy. Across the room Thibor has a young, blonde child perched on his knee. He was grinning. She was grinning. Everyone was happily ensconced in the warm glow of camaraderie and the Christmas spirit.
Well, it is a learning process. Cammy said with a fond glance at Thibor. You can teach an old dog new tricks, but it is not easy. Thibor is actually quite fond of children, and dealing with them, and I would wager that he actually enjoys playing Santa. That being said, the idea that he likes all of this is so completely alien to him that he denies it at every opportunity. Hence the rather ritualized ill temper and sarcasm prior to the start of this undertaking; but as you can see he does rise above it admirably.
You rotten little bitch! Thibor was on his feet, fully transformed from man to werewolf. He backhanded the little, blonde girl with all his strength, sending her across the room and through a cinderblock wall. Cammy gaped appalled until she noticed that the hilt of an overlarge hunting knife was protruding from Thibors other arm, the blade driven entirely through. With a grimace Thibor tore the knife free and dropped it on the floor. Blood continued to drip from the wound which refused to close over. That meant silver.
Oh bother. Cammy felt a cold fearful hand grip her heart. Vampires lived in fear of the Big Bad Wolf; but there was something that even the Big Bad Wolf feared. Naoko.
Get everyone else out of here! Get them out now!
How much is that doggy in the window? The sing song voice rang up from the hole in the wall. A pair of bright blue eyes, a shock of blonde hair, and a deep, blood red cloak were visible. The one with the waggy tail. How much is that doggie in the window? The doggy Im going to impale!
Bonnie Hood. Cammy moved into the line of fire, ready to try and draw Bonnie away from her target. She had read the file as well as gone over the pertinent information with Thibor. A Scottish immortal, suspected to have been born in 1533. The same year that the church excommunicated Henry VIII and Ivan the Terrible rose to power. Not a good year. Not a good year at all. Although she might look like she stumbled out of a particularly Disney production of Grimms fairy tales, Bonnie was an almost peerless monster killer, utterly mercenary, completely insane, and to top it all off, supremely powerful. The limits of her abilities were unknown and almost unclassifiable. The only clue to the limits, was an epiphany Thibor suffered when watching anime with Uriko and the rest of the team. He had said that her powers were that of a little blonde girl in a monster anime; Super strong, resilient to damage, with infinite, customized weapons, and the disquieting ability to appear and disappear like the monster in a spam-in-a-cabin movie.
I saw Bonnie shooting Santa. Bonnie hopped out of the hole in the wall and dug a hand into the wicker basket she was carrying. She dragged out a Scorpion machine pistol and unleashed a long burst at Thibor. The werewolf managed to dodge out of the way as bullets chewed up the walls around him. Cammy moved in on the other side, sliding across the floor and then kicking up, knocking the gun from Bonnies hand.
Oh! Not nice. Bonnie wailed. She glanced down at Cammy and pointed a finger. And now no one will marry you!
What?! Cammy managed, kipping up to her feet. The answer hit her. Her skirt was at her belt again. Why a Scottish girl would be mentioning a Japanese predilection for the display of undergarments was quite beyond her. Why are you trying to kill Thibor?
Hes a bad dog. Bonnie said with enough smiles and dimples for a legion of Shirley Temple imitators. And someone is paying me a lot of money to kill his ass dead. Ill be able to get a nice present for Granny, a new bone for William, boots for Arthur and John and if there is a little leftover, maybe something special for me.
But what about all the kids who wont get their presents because you killed Santa? Cammy asked. While Bonnie was talking she wasnt shooting, or worse.
Oh no! Bonnies big eyes welled with tears. Those poor little ones. I know, Ill use some of the money to buy presents for them too. Then everyone will be happy happy happy. Thanks lady!
Champion. Bonnie ran off in a flurry of skirts, petticoats and spent bullet casings. Cammy pursued. It was impossible. Despite moving in a light, skipping, gait, Bonnie was actually pulling away from her. As Cammy rounded a corner in pursuit she was brought up short by a net that stretched across the whole of the corridor. She slammed into it and found it wrapping around her. In moments she was bound helpless and struggling on the floor.
There. No chasing Bonnie when Bonnie is out killing nasty old wolves. The short blonde psychotic waved a foot long knife at Cammy. If you do, Bonnie will give you a lot more scars on your pretty face. Oh yes she will.
As Bonnie turned to skip away, Thibor dropped down from the ceiling tiles, landing in front of the blonde. Without pausing he kicked her under the chin, sending her flying into the air. He spun into her with a punch that drove her into the wall with enough force to shatter the concrete. Bonnie slumped to the ground.
Dont worry about me. Cammy protested as Thibors claws made fast work of the steel cables of the net. Just get out of here.
Here boy! Get the stick! Get the stick! Bonnie was back on her feet, waving a stick of lit dynamite in her hand.
No. Is not wanting the stick. Thibor said.
Come on. Bonnie urged as the fuse burned lower. Get the stick boy.
No. Thibor was adamant on the point.
Get the fucking stick! Bonnie exploded with rage, tossing the dynamite at the werewolf. Cammy moved in batting the dynamite back towards Bonnie. Bonnie bent to pick it up and then decided against the plan. She slammed her basket down on the dynamite and then hopped on top of it. There was a muffled boom and the basket jumped a foot off the ground with Bonni clutching the handle like the saddle of a bucking bronco. She landed heavily on the ground, her tiny feet kicking at the air.
Where oh were did my little dog go? Bonnie looked around at the empty corridor. Oh where, oh where could he be? With his tail chopped up and his head torn off, Oh where, Oh where could he be?

Since I was mostly speed-reading the end of HBP (since I was getting thoroughly disgusted) I'm not as solid on the latter parts of the book.
I'm reading some post-HBP fanfic, and I'm wondering - I've seen a couple people say R/Hr happened near the end, but *I* don't remember it, and I don't have the book with me to check.
Did I just miss that bit, or what?--
Christopher Angel, aka JPublic
The Works of Christopher Angel

I'm working on the third chapter at the moment and I could do with a little help. One of the ideas I've been working on is a steadily escalating tension between the protagonist and the staff at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the initial confrontation with Professor McGongall after the first flying lessons, has gotten out of hand and I'm not sure if I can salvage it or will have to ditch it.
I'd appreciate your input. The confrontation as it's written at the moment is as follows:
---------------------------------------------------------

Padma shook her head as Michael sat down opposite her. Shes right, Hal, she told him. You and Malfoy are always fighting I heard you punched him on the Hogwarts Express as well. You cant just go on doing that the Malfoys are a very old family and theyre very powerful.
Whats he going to do? Michael asked. Get his dad to have my dad fired from his job or something? Might be a teeny bit difficult.
But think about the points youll lose Ravenclaw if you keep fighting youre being really selfish.
Michael glared at her. Im being selfish? he asked incredulously, leaning forward over the table. Youre perfectly okay with Malfoy getting away with being a theiving bully as long as he doesnt bother you but Im being selfish. And Professor McGonagall reckons it takes two to fight so we should just leave him to get on with it. No wonder Voldemort got away with all this crap evidently no one was willing to stand up to him in case there was a fight or someone docked them points. Gryffindor courage doesnt seem to go very far, does it?
His voice had been rising steadily as he spoke and silence had fallen over the Hall after Michael snarled the name Voldemort.
Five points from Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall snapped. A great many wizards and witches died fighting the Dark Lord, Mr Potter. Among them your parents.
And you seem intent on making sure no one does fights back again, Michael snorted, rising from his seat to face her. Since you evidently seem to think no one should stand up to a bully and a coward, oh mighty Head of Gryffindor.
Professors will deal with such matters, she said flatly, approaching him. Now sit down or you will cost Ravenclaw even more points.
Michael put one foot on the bench and shoved his dishes back so that he could sit on the table. Really? he asked sarcastically. Professors will stand up for their students and make sure they arent bullied? Maybe you should ask yourself, Professor McGongall, why didnt anyone go to you? There were more than a dozen students witness to Malfoybeing a theiving git, half of them from your house. But how many told a Professor? Apparently none of them. Do you have any idea whey they might not have any faith youd do anything? Maybe they think youd slap them down like you just tried to do me.
There was a cough from the high table and McGonagall turned to see Albus Dumbledore looking at them through his glasses. Detention, she hissed, eyes bright with anger. My office, immediately after dinner.
Ill be there, Michael replied coldly as the Professor stalked away. No Quarter, NO QUARTER! You damn well earned your fate.
Give Harrington our compliments; we're sorry you are late.
- No Quarter, Echoes Children
D for Drakensis

You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.

Who are the people in your neighborhood,
In your neighborhood, in your neigh-bor-hood.
Oh, who are the people in your neighborhood,
The people that you meet each day.
Gives Doug a general knowledge of residents/businesses of the area in which he is residing, within roughly 10 minutes walking distance.

Went to a party the other night
All the ladies were treating me right
Moving my feet to the disco beat
How in the world could I keep my seat
All of a sudden I began to change
I was on the dance floor acting strange
Flapping my arms I began to cluck
Look at me...I'm the disco duck
(Ah get down mama, I've got to have me a woman, ha ha ha ha ha)
Disco, disco duck
(Got to have me a woman)
Disco, disco duck
(Oh get down mama)
Try your luck, don't be a cluck, disco
(Disco)
Disco
(Disco)
Disco - disco - disco disco duck
(All right)
Disco disco duck
(Ah get down mama, oh mama shake your tail feather, ha ha ha ha ha)
When the music stopped I returned to my seat
But there's no stoppin' a duck and his beat
So I got back up to try my luck
Why look it's the disco Duck!!
(Everybody's doin' the)
Disco, disco duck
Disco, disco duck
Try your luck
(Wave to me)
Don't be a cluck
(I'm so happy to be here)
Disco
Thank you duck
Disco
For gettin' down
Disco disco disco
Thank you so very much
Disco duck
(You're welcome)
Disco Disco Duck
Try your luck, don't be a cluck, disco, disco, disco...

Disco Duck, Rick Dees (1976)
Transforms Doug into a little white duck. The sailor suit is optional (and definitely disclaimed by Disney), as is the ability to disco-dance.
(Why did I come up with this, all of a sudden? Well, Randy Bachman has a weekly radio show Saturday evenings on CBC Radio 1, and this week the show's about novelty songs. This is one of the ones he's played...)

-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