Has anyone heard, well, -anything-, from Don Granberry in the last few months?
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

Here's a somewhat obscure song:
The Phoenix
by Julia Ecklar
In a tower of flame in capsule 12
I was there
I know not where they laid my my bones
It could be anywhere
But when fire and smoke had faded
And darkness left my sight
I found my soul in a spaceship's hull
Riding home on a trail of light
And my wings are made of tungsten,
My flesh, of glass and steel.
I am the joy of Terra for the power that I feel
Once upon a lifetime, I died a pioneer
Now I sing within a spaceship's heart
Does anybody hear?
Before each morning's launch they know that
I am there
"To the soul that warms this vessel's hull,"
They say a silent prayer
I, fathership and spirit of the dream
For which they strive
For I am man at the hands of men
See us rocket for the skies
And my wings are made of tungsten,
My flesh, of glass and steel.
I am the joy of Terra for the power that I wield.
Once upon a lifetime, I died a pioneer,
Now I sing within a spaceship's heart
Does anybody hear?
My thunder rends the morning sky, YES!
I am here
Though lost to flame when I was man
Now I ride her without fear
For I am more than man now, and man
Built me with pride
I led the way, now I lead the way
Of man's future in the sky
And my wings are made of tungsten
My flesh of glass and steel
I am the joy of Terra for the power that I feel
Once upon a lifetime, I died a pioneer
Now I sing within a spaceship's heart
Does anybody hear?
Suggested effect: Doug "possesses" a spaceship, gaining full control over it as if it were his own body (which disappears for the length of the song). Very effective when used in small, maneuverable ships that can take advantage of his superhuman reflexes--like, say, a Firefly-class transport.
Since this could potentially be really powerful, some suggested limitations:
Doug would have to be inside the ship to merge with it. There would be an upper limit on size, depending on the magic power available (so no Death Stars or Honor Harrington pod dreadnaughts). Any damage the ship takes during the song would translate into wounds.
The song length is 3:35.

How do you go about getting every chapter of a story saved? Do you just save each individual webpage? Or is there some utility, either local or on FFnet itself?
Thanks.
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

This is something that I'm working on that I wanted a general opinion of. It's not particularly anime-inspired, but given all the talk of heroes on this forum, I thought it a good place to show it.
---------------------
His name was Champion, and he was the first to fall.
There is not a person on Earth who doesnt know about Champion. His first appearance was in North Texas, in Carrollton, a small suburb of Dallas, where he spent his early years working in cooperation with the Carrollton Police Department. His relationship with the police was so favorable that he went so far as to pattern his uniform during the 1980s after the coloration of their patrol cars: white and blue with a stylized C. Although he was dubbed Captain Carrollton by some of the more waggish members of the press, Champion proved himself time and again during the 80s as a hero.
For the early part of his career, Champion spent most of his efforts in the southwestern part of the United States. The rest of the country acknowledged his fame, but he was rarely seen in the large cities of the Northeast or the West Coast. That is, until the Branch Davidians incident.
Mount Carmel had already been surrounded by members of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms when Champion arrived. The superhero, already well known among the local law enforcement, wisely chose to push for a nonviolent resolution to the siege. Unfortunately, members of the command staff saw the hero as little more than a man-sized siege weapon. After trying several times to convince those agents interested in forced entry that he would not serve as their battering ram, he finally lost his temper and went out on his own to talk to the Branch Davidians. Being effectively bulletproof, Champion could get closer to the compound than any other negotiator.
The Davidians were extremely surprised to see the white-and-blue-clad figure walking up to their compound. They were doubly surprised when he reacted not at all to being fired upon. But they were surprised most of all when he knocked politely on the front door, and asked to speak with Koresh. The members of the church were understandably paranoid, but after Champion pointed out that he could enter by force that he had been given that ability by God and he chose not to, they let him in.
Champion later related that he had spent most of the time in the company of Koresh, who had explained to him why he had not surrendered, that he was waiting for a sign from God. Koresh explained to him that the FBI and BATF agents were denying his requests to speak with experts on the Bible. He explained that he was trying to find out what God wanted from him. Champion, who himself was a pious man (although of a different denomination of Christianity), promised that he would try to help. In a show of good faith, Koresh allowed Champion to see the public areas of the compound, to assure the hero that no one was being mistreated.
Champion spent the next weeks serving as the primary liaison between Mount Carmel and the outside world. He served as a voice of mediation between the federal agents and church members. It was at his urging that Bible experts were brought to speak with Koresh. It was at his urging that moderation and patience were the watchwords. It was through his reputation in the Southwest that most of the agents, who were natives to the area, listened to him. In the end, the Branch Davidians surrendered the siege. Several were jailed for assaulting federal agents and on firearms charges, including Koresh, but what might have been a massacre was avoided.
It was out of this event, and the resulting media exposure, that Champion became a national hero. The federal government became acquainted with him intimately over the next years, and his moderate and sensible manner made him an excellent hero for all sides of the political spectrum to rely on. Champion took his popularity cautiously, not giving in on his principles but still helping people when he could. He became, in the years after Waco, a public hero that everyone could believe in.
Through the 90s, Champion was the hero of the people. He was everywhere, providing his voice of reason when he could, and his strength and invulnerability when he could not. He was instrumental in developing relations with Aquus, bringing the strange elemental being into the public eye and helping it voice its concerns over oceanic pollution. He helped the FBI with militias several times during the 90s, preventing or minimizing the damage from domestic terrorism committed in revenge for Ruby Ridge or Waco. He was active overseas, aiding United Nations troops in Somalia and the Balkans. Again, in those tense and violent places, his voice of reason was just as powerful as his physical abilities. It was Champion who led the task force to arrest Milosovec, delivering the dictator to the steps of The Hague himself for the trial.
Moreover, Champion was the defender of the planet from outside threats. When the Fureons pursued Zhail (commonly known to the public The Starman) to Earth, it was Champion who stood next to his friend at Lagrange Point 6 and stopped the advance invasion force. When Nocturnes reconnaissance of the Carlsbad Deeps found an army of trolls, it was Champion who held them at a standstill until the Night Warrior could evacuate the State Park and summon help. And when the insidious Mad Doctor Jonathan Jacob Walker attacked Silicon Valley with his army of giant robots, Champion was there to turn back the foe.
Hero. Celebrity. Times Man of the Year. A&Es Biography of the Year. Winner of the Presidential Medal of Freedom and an Honorary OBE from the Queen of England. Champion was respected and loved by many. Even his long-time foes, both in government and crime, expressed respect for his moderation and reasonable nature. There were those who hated him not the least of which was the noted metaterrorist known only as Schreck but all who knew him, knew him to be a man of honor and good.
The details of Champions death are hazy at best. If the American government knows what happened, they arent talking. What is known is that, on January 6, 2000, an explosion ripped through downtown Little Rock, Arkansas, leveling four square blocks. Emergency workers, paramedics, and police all rushed to the scene, and were cut down by unknown enemies. Anyone entering the area of the disaster was killed, and no one could see what or who was doing the killing. With little choice in the matter, the police cordoned off the area and called for help.
Champion beat the National Guard to the command post set up by the Little Rock PD by about thirty seconds. He spent forty-five minutes discussing the situation with the police commander, the Mayor of Little Rock, and the Guard Commander. He spent fifteen minutes talking to the press. And then, at approximately four oclock in the afternoon on January 6, he crossed the cordon and entered the disaster area.
What happened next is a matter of public record; the news footage was run on CNN for several weeks, and has been analyzed was almost as much detail as the Zapruder footage of the Kennedy Assassination. Champion flew into the crisis area. He hovered through it slowly, at about the pace of a quick walk, scanning for survivors or indications of the cause of the explosion. Twice he retrieved the remains of a downed police officer or emergency technician and returned them to the barricades. His radio contact with the command post was clear and understandable. Champions tone of voice was calm, but concerned. At no point does he appear or sound to be panicked or unsettled.
Champions final conversation is also on public record, and has been analyzed as much as the video. Upon nearing the intersection at the center of the damaged area, he descended to the ground and began to look for some indication of the cause of the explosion. The following conversation occurred:
Champion: Command, I am approaching the intersection. Am descending to the street. Over.
Captain Thomas Veitch, Little Rock PD: Roger that, Champion. We can see you. Let us know if you see anything that looks like an explosive. Over.
Champion: Roger, Command. The street looks melted. Mustve been a high-temperature blast. Theres little charring, though. No device apparent at first glance. Over.
Captain Veitch: Roger, Champion. Keep looking. Over.
Champion: Roger, Command. Command?
Captain Veitch: This is Command, Champion. We read you. Over.
Champion: No sign of explosive or incendiary device in immediate vicinity of intersection. At least, not to me. Maybe the crime scene guys can find something.
Captain Veitch: Dont worry about it, Champion. Focus on securing the area. Over.
Champion: Roger, Command. Ill start with the bank. Looks like the windows were vaporized, rather than shattered. Interior is seared clean, Command. All wooden furniture has been charred into ash. Marble floors are covered in soot probably furniture and
carpet. No sign of any bodies. Just thats funny .
Captain Veitch: Say again, Champion. Whats funny? Over.
Champion: Footprints. In the marble. They lead towards the vault. Im going to see where they go. Over.
Captain Veitch: Roger, Champion. Be careful.

Champion: UNH!
Captain Veitch: Say again, Champion?

Captain Veitch: Champion, this is Command. Respond.

Captain Veitch: Champion, this is Command. Please respond.

Captain Veitch: Champion, this is Captain Veitch at Command. Please respond.

Captain Veitch: Where is he? Champion, if you can hear us, please indicate.

Captain Veitch: Shit. Hes not responding. Now what?

Approximately twenty minutes after the command post lost contact with Champion, the vigilante known as Nocturne (sometimes called the Night Warrior) appeared in the command post. No one had seen him pass any checkpoints and there is no indication of his presence in any media record until he exited the command post and entered the disaster zone, accompanied by four National Guardsmen carrying assault rifles. It took the five of them ten minutes to reach the intersection, and they were unhindered. It took them another ten minutes to enter the bank and find Champions body. Preliminary examinations showed that Champion was not breathing and had no pulse.
The world mourned the passing of Champion. His death prompted a massive crackdown on crime, with heroes like Nocturne and The Hunter exposing every criminal organization to light while Doctor Tomorrow and The Starman examined Ground Zero. Champions invulnerability made a regular postmortem examination impossible, but Tomorrows superscience allowed for something approximating an autopsy (although Champions body was not actually cut open). The scans of the corpse showed no apparent cause of death. There was no tissue trauma, no broken bones, no sign of organ failure, there wasnt even hydrostatic shock. Champion just stopped living.
The funeral was the largest that anyone had ever seen. Larger than Princess Dianas, larger than President Kennedys, it included celebrities and statesmen from every country. People made pilgrimages to the grave during the month surrounding the funeral. Champions family came forward, revealing his identity to the world, and the world helped them with their grief. Even the paparazzi were silent; such was the love the world had for their fallen hero.
Forty-seven super-powered villains surrendered to law enforcement in honor of Champion, including Dr. Megaton, who turned himself in to the Director of the FBI at the funeral. The Maniac arrived at the doors to Bellevue three days after Champions funeral, coherent for once, and managed to stay inside for a record 73 days, before his meta-insanity overcame the drugs he was on and he tore a hole in the wall and escaped. Over the next three months, 578 members of various crime syndicates across the world, from the Mafia to the Columbian cartels to the tongs of Hong Kong, were arrested, convicted, and imprisoned due to the efforts of heroes and police alike. The FBI unraveled no fewer than four plots to commit acts of terrorism against American citizens. Interpol found another three in Europe. But no one, not even Nocturne, found anything that led them to Champions killer or the parties responsible for what became known as the Little Rock Disaster.
As time passed, the investigators still forged ever on, searching for new clues. The public at large, however, mourned for Champion, and then moved on with their lives. The other superheroes of the world continued as they had, believing the tragedy to be an isolated event.
A belief that would soon be proven to be terribly, horribly wrong.
Ebony the Black Dragon
Senior Editor, Living Room Games
http://www.lrgames.com
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

Had this scribbled up during a moment of inspiration sometime last week. Have a poke. The previous 'part', if it could be called that, is here:
p087.ezboard.com/fdrunkar...=266.topic

----
Disclaimer: The usual applies. I own none of the characters, places, etc. The HP 'cast' belongs to
J.K.Rowling. Drakengard, where the initial idea of the Pact was taken from, belongs to ... umm. I forget.
Not me, anyway.
AN: Initially, I wasn't really going to write any follow ups to Bound and Determined. The credit for making my brain go the extra length and come up with this ficlet goes to Crys. As always, C&C is welcome.
----------------------------------------------------------
Demonbane Ltd.
Presents

Solitude

follow up to a HP AU ficlet
by Griever
---

Thumping beats.

Silence, with the gentle fluttering of distant sounds serving to make it not less, but more intense.

Not true silence, then.

He knew there was no such thing as true silence. There wouldn't be, until he breathed his last.

The heat was an enveloping experience, like a layer of soft and moist silk running across exposed skin.

The hiss of air as it left his lungs, then as it entered again, did not break the stillness. It composed
itself into it, becoming as indistinguishable as he hoped he was.

And then there was the rush. Underbrush stroking his flanks as he felt motion, eyes locked on the running
form, its smell filling his nostrils and the heat it gave off helping him follow even as the escapee dashed
through the cover provided by the thicket of the forest floor.

The sound, or rather vibration, of bounding steps.

From the soles of his feet, he felt them. With his ears, he heard the
rustle of approaching prey.

He waited.

Still.

Composed.

As much a part of the background as the tree his back was propped against.

Rustle.

In an instant, the rush of motion was discarded, or should that be exchanged?

Relayed sensation, relayed sight, relayed hearing was pushed aside, as his own senses stretched.

His lunge wasn't even much of a lunge.

Step.

Turn on the balls of the right foot.

Feel the vibration.

Hear the startled prey over the sound of his own, finally accelerating hearbeat.

The shaft felt as if it were an extension of his hand, even as said hand was pushed forward.

Blood splattered.

The heartbeat slowed, and another fluttered, its beat hiccuping for an instant and then going ...

Still.

Composed.

Breath.

In.

Out.

Embrace the link and see the prey as something other than a melange of coppery tones, fur, fear and anger
stink, and meat.

Once, this would have seemed barbaric. Now?

It was simply his nature.

He was past denying his nature.

/Good hunt, little serpent./

***

The fire crackled. Once, he would have said 'merrily'. Now it was merely comforting.

Stars above, though he could not see them.

Being blind had its drawbacks.

The meat was surprisingly tender, give how fresh it was, but that likely had to do with preparation. He'd
been more than a fair cook before, and merely had to adapt. Suprsingly, smell and touch made up for lack of
sight, though the link and his Pact Partner were more than ready to provide that in those first weeks.

The smell of cooking meat, as the boar spun on its spit, flesh already prepared and simmering. The noises of
life around them.

The warmth of the fire, an odd comfort. Doubled by the link. A pleasure he was glad to share and have shared
with him. His Pact Partner enjoyed the warmth. Unsurprising, given his serpentine nature.

Winter was coming.

Oh, it was still far off. And yet, he could feel it, feel the cycle of death and rebirth, the river of life.
Its flow altered, surged, dwindled, but continued on. It was fascinating to contemplate, really ... shame he
had little time for idle contemplation these days. Surviving was a chore in and of itself.

Ironically, it was also, he was coming to realize, one of the best times he could remember having.

Perhaps, because it was so unlike anything he'd ever experienced that it was trivial to let himself go, lose
himself in the sensation, and forget ...

And he had things in his memory that he'd rather forget about.

A healing balm for a torn soul.

Again, amusing irony. His soul was not really torn anymore, rather, it had been stretched somewhat. Mixed
with that of another, not merely due to the mark left on his brow.

Here, in this forest, without other here save for the scaled bulk of his Pact Partner, he was finally
discovering the meaning of what it meant to do more than merely exist.

He felt alive.

/How poetic, little ssserpent. Ssshould we get you sssome bark, so you can keep the ruminationsss
pressserved for posssterity?/

He was also learning the fine art of sarcasm ... from a beast that was, or had been, the king of all it
surveyed. Or the slayer. In a way, it was one and the same, really.

"Title it 'Ramblingsss of an insssane Dark Wizard' or whatnot, and sssell millionsss of copiesss?" He
replied, though his voice wasn't really needed for communication in this case. He was equally comfortable
with both methods, to tell the truth, but vocalizing his thoughts often helped him order them appropriately.
"Tempting offer."

If one of those who'd known him previously had been able to hear him speak those words (and understand them,
since he was hissing rather than speaking at the moment), they would have scarcely recognized him.

It was a dramatic change he'd undergone, especially for a period as short as two months. At least, that was
how this would be understood by others. In truth, the changes had occurred far earlier. As the Pact was
made.

Assimilating them, though, that had taken a bit of work.

He was not, in the strictest sense of the word, mature. Not as a human being would understand it. The
Basilisk, though, was old. Far more intelligent than it had been given credit for. And of a mindset and
morality that was alien to that which was commonly in place among humankind.

This, though, worked both ways, as did most things about the Pact.

And even as the alien ideas were taken into the mind of the erstwhile Gryffindor, the king of serpents had
been forced to deal with an influx of his own.

In the end, they were both a little less than they'd been before, and at the same time a little more.

A sum of their parts, first. And now more.

Winter was coming.

The insistent little nagging voice of instinct spoke up again, still quiet, yet nagging. Not something he
would willingly ignore. It was, after all, correct. Summer would give way to fall, would give way to winter.

If nothing else, his Pact Partner had taught him to not only live in the moment, but to also look ahead.

And it was somewhat startling just how far ahead a being that was, for all intents and purposes, the oldest
sentient creature he'd ever encountered, could look.

The immediate future didn't require anything of him ... but beyond that, ever so slightly beyond that, they
would need to move.

/We linger here for reasssonsss of our own, little ssserpent. You know thisss./

The giant serpent moved, surrounding he youth, coiling itself underneath his legs and around his torso,
resting its head - well, part of it at least - on top of one of his shoulders. It was, the boy knew, one of
the benefits the Basilisk saw in their Pact. A heat source that moved with it. For a cold blooded creature
this was something of a luxury.

"Where would we go, then?" he didn't glance over his shoulder, but the intent was clear. As things stood,
they were too deep in the forest to still see the lake and castle they'd ventured from, and the boy knew a
return would be rather difficult. Were he to desire it.

It was a possibility, however, and if nothing else, the Pact had taught him to always examine his
possibilities.

/Elsssewhere./

"Big help," replied the boy, the tone of his hiss matching the smugness that the one his Partner had given
contained. And the sarcasm.

This was not an unimportant issue, for either of them, though. The Basilisk could sleep, but his Partner's
body was not yet ready for hibernation, even with the less obvious changes wrought by the powers unleashed
as the Pact was forged. Possibly, it would never be quite ready for the Sleep.

There were things, the king of serpents could sense, that lurked within the boy. Desires and wants, that -
while dormant now, suppressed to make room for learning this new way of life - would eventually make
themselves know.

The boy knew this as well, though not on an entirely conscious level.

Still, planning aside, some things were best dealt with one step at a time.

There was still some time left to take that particular step.

Both Pact partners shared this awareness, and decided to deliberate further during the coming days. Right
then, though, the night was too enthralling to let go of, and boy and serpent soon sunk into the depths of
slumber.

They slept.

***

The book's contents were far from what most considered legal. At least, far from what most wizards would
consider legal. Or good.

It was one of the things that they had taken from the Chamber. At first glance, nothing special. At second
glance, nothing special.

But, really, he did not really glance. Fingers moved, tracing and feeling the paper, the ink, and the subtle
flow of energy that preserved the tome past what the materials it had been created from could possibly
handle.

It was old.

It was also not, strictly speaking, anything even close to being a key to ultimate power.

That was alright with him.

Ultimate power was, as far as he could tell, overrated.

He was perfectly willing to settle for moderately impressive power.

And he'd be perfectly content with a place to live, a meal to fill his stomach every day, and being left
alone for now.

The first was only useful as a means towards the second, really.

Again, ironically, the so called king of serpents had priorities that ran much along the same lines. A
symbol of ambition, perfectly willing to shrug the mantle away and immerse itself in selfishness.

Though, again, ambition could be interpreted in many ways.

He was perfectly willing to settle with life as his current ambition.

Though the differences between life and existence were something he'd become well aware of, especially
lately.

He had his magic, still. In a way, it was actually easier to wield now. He could almost 'see' the flows as a
spell was woven into being. He imagined that, with practice, the words could become unnecessary. With
practice, though. And patience.

He knew more of patience now than he'd ever known before. Not merely fearful waiting, or anxiety suppressed,
but true patience.

He would learn.

He had time.

He was young, still.

And there was the faintest possibility that he would remain so for quite a while ...

/Mossst likely, little ssserpent. You will not end before I do, I will not end before you do. The Pact hasss
asssured that./

So he worked. Practiced.

Some things came easier, some were more difficult, but this caused surprisingly little irritation.

/There isss nothing to be concerned about. We, each of usss, are different. We learn differently. Ssso
doesss your breed. You know thisss. It isss the nature of life itssself, diversssity./

The studies were not rushed. Rather, they were thorough. Learn something, attempt to master it, only when
you cannot continue can you move on.

Very much like the hunt, the boy noted.

Time passed.

Fall came.

They moved.

And other things were set in motion by this, as well.

Things that they would come to be aware of.

In time.

***

He knew the name of the town ... or, perhaps, had known it. He'd read it upon entering. It wasn't all that
important though, in the long run, so he'd not committed it to memory.

Winter had come.

He felt slightly sluggish, though. The cold, while also invigorating, was having a dual effect.

Surprisingly, it had the opposite effect on his Partner. The serpent slithered, its scales on the snow,
something that would have been impossible for the cold blooded creature to do normally.

The Pact was sharing, on roughly equal terms, after all.

The house was small, on the outskirts of the town, out of the way. A good place for contemplation. Solitude,
he would have said before, but there was no true solitude possible for him. Not anymore. Not ever again.

One of the things about the Pact that he saw as a definite advantage.

He missed the hunt, to be honest, but it was not the place for it. Nor the weather. His Partner could and
did still seek out prey, but that also happened on a more sporadic basis.

A few carefully planned out actions had made acquiring their current lodgings a possiblity, with little fuss
standing in the way of things.

Sometimes, magic was very useful.

He did not play with the mind, really. Oh, a bit of added confusion about an issue here, a slight nudge
there ... subtle, nothing as obvious and glaring as those clumsy memory charms Lockhart had been so fond of.

People looked, people saw, but they simply ... wrote it off as an oddity. Ignorance of the modern world. It
was present, had been present for some time. He merely ... capitalized on it. No big thing, really.

Though, to be honest, there really wasn't much he could do about people not noticing his Partner. On the
other hand, he didn't need to do much to that effect, since the king of serpents was insidious and stealthy
when there was need.

And time passed.

Winter crossed its midpoint.

Books were read, and things were learned.

But fate has a way of nudging things sometimes.

***

He sat.

In darkness.

Light wasn't really a concern for him any longer. He'd learned to work around the Price the Pact had
required, by virtue of said Pact's other aspects.

It was a little known fact that snakes were deaf. In the traditional sense of having no real 'ears', at
least. They perceived vibration, yes, but actual sound was something of a mystery to them. The hissing of
Parseltongue paid little heed to actual words, more to the vibrations of the voice which were carried by the
speaker's innate magic.

The ability to 'feel' footfalls, motion, the vibration of the very air itself as it carried 'sounds'. One
could perceive their surroundings with these, in some cases better than one could with sight alone.

And then there was the Third Eye. Or whatever you might call that organ which let serpents perceive heat.

These innate abilities, among others, seemed to have been shared through the Pact somehow, even as the
Basilisk had gained eyes that, while lacking its trademark dread gaze, let it see the world as the
/hairlessss apesss /did.

It was, to both of them, something of an experience, each witnessing what the world looked like from another
being's point of view.

The room was comfortably warm, though the boy was faintly aware of the fact that he would have considered it
a tad too warm a few months ago.

He was reading, fingers skimming paper as he took in the minute differences in texture that marked letters.

/Engrosssing, little ssserpent?/

That this surprised him marked just how deeply he'd been studying the text.

"Sssomewhat," he admitted, sheepishly. "How wasss the hunting?"

/Thisss disssgustingly wet and cold white sssubstance sssemed intent on getting in my way. I fail to sssee
the reassson for your ssspieciesss' fassscination with it, little ssserpent. Once the novelty hasss worn
off, it isss little more than bothersssome detritusss./

"Sssorry," the boy sighed. "If it weren't for me, you could sssimply sssleep through thisss ..."

/Ssstill, it isss an interesssting dissstraction./ The King of Serpents grudgingly conceded. /Do not let it
burden you, little ssserpent. You provided usss with a warm lair for thisss occasssion. And, in any cassse,
I welcome thisss break in the monotony of exissstence./

The boy frowned at this.

/Ssso, what wasss it that had you ssso deeply in itsss clutchesss?/

"A ... triviality," was the response. "A sssection of the tome isss filled with ssscrying ssspellsss ... I
wasss attempting to find a ... replacement."

He made a gesture towards the uniformly white orbs of his eyes.

/No luck, little ssserpent?/

"It isss asss if I literally cannot sssee in that manner anymore, other than through your eyesss," the boy
replied sadly. "They don't work for me."

/Do not let it dissscourage you. There isss far more to the weave of magicksss that entanglesss usss all
than wizardsss have dissscovered. Until you dissscover one, you have the ussse of mine./

"Whenever you feel like it granting the privilege," there was a smirk slowly creeping onto his face.

/Isss that arrogance I feel, little ssserpent?/

"I sssuppossse. You're rubbing off on me, I think."

***

At first, he didn't know what it was that had awakened him. Merely that it had been unexpected enough to
have him instinctively roll from the bed, hand closed around the holly length of his wand, senses stretching
out as far as he could manage and perceiving ... nothing.

Or rather, those that were of the more mundane persuasion, though there were hardly any that he'd call
'normal' these days.

Then he noticed it.

A prickling sensation on top of his skin, as if an nonexistent wind was running across it.

For some reason it put him on edge, and for the life of him he couldn't tell why ...

/Little ssserpent, /his Pact Partner's voice came directly into his mind, and he knew the Basilisk was not
in its preferred resting place - the cottage's small boiler room - even as it made contact and he reached to
share what it was seeing. /They come! It hasss been a while, but I can sssenssse them ssstill! It isss
unmistakable!/

"Lesss obfussscation, more information, pleassse," he mumbled. It was not necessary, since he could just as
easily 'think' the words and the Basilisk would hear them as if he were standing next to it. From the
'tone' it had used, there was considerable unease involved, and there were few things that he knew could
take the King of Serpents aback.

He was halfway into his clothes by the time the reply came. Along with an image of just what the serpent was seeing.

The light dusting of snow on the ground. The moonlight falling on that.

A struggling figure rushing over the meadow, in roughly the direction of the town.

And following it, the clear source of the Basilisk's disquiet. So clear that it set the hairs on the nape of his neck on end.

Cloaked in shifting darkness woven into hooded robes, floating above the white cover at a pace that seemed leisurely but ate up ground rapidly enough ...

It wasn't his knowledge that he drew upon to recognize these dread creatures, but that made their idenity and presence no less true.

His Pact Partner merely confirmed it.

/Dementorsss./

***
END
ANv2: yes, this is the ending. I know it's abrubt. I wanted to keep this from snowballing, and leave an
open ending. No, I don't know whether or not I'll be writing any follow ups. A definite 'maybe' is all I can say about that. Here's hoping I managed to entertain you a bit, Dear Reader. 'Till next time, if there is a next time.
-Griever
I don't set myself any deadlines. Why? Simple. I can never keep them.
--------------------------------
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

Like most warm, damp, cavernous expanses the inside of my head is a fertile ground for disease and fungus. Petri dish like, it festers ideas whether I want it to or not, and especially when I have good Naruto fic shot at me on this board like a damn pitching machine. So I give up, the plot bunnies in my head win. Here's my go at it.
---------------------------------------------
The Fourth Great Shinobi War
Prologue
October, One Week After the Kyuubi's Defeat
Fathomless eyes stared down at the cavernous entrance that sat at the base of an extinct submerged volcano. While it was wearing the form of a forgettable man, the limitless dark did not hinder the thing's ability to see, nor was it bothered by the deathly cold of the water, and to say nothing of the catastrophic implosion that would happen in a human from the pressures at this depth. None of these factors, all lethal to mortals, effected what it had come down here in search of. But that was fine, what it came to see wasn't human, and neither was it.
Navigating through a maze of lava tubes that now resembled tunnels, it made its way towards the center where it finally surfaced into an enormous underground cave, a now empty magma pocket a half mile in diameter that was the heart of the volcano. Here it found what it was looking for.
Coiled around a giant stalagmite that rose from the center of a small lake was a demon. Easily three hundred feet long from snout to its five tails, and was perhaps twenty feet wide of relaxed muscle. Halfway between an eel and a snake, its massive head was like a wedge tipped on its side, split in two by a maw that could bite a whale in two. The occasional fang poked out from the closed mouth. A great fan-like crest exploded out the back of the head at the base of the skull and a similar fin ran down the length of the body, terminating at the point where the tail would begin only in this demon it split off into five identical versions. Even if there had been light, the thing knew that the five tailed sea serpents scales would not shine, but rather be mottled grey-green matte that absorbed light. The inescapable conclusion was that this was a creature of legend, built for killing and capable of unthinkable destruction. And the creature did not take three steps out of the water into the cavern before the serpent's featureless blood red eyes slowly opened; to glare balefully down as it raised its head.
"EXPLAIN TO ME, MIND DRINKER, WHY I SHOULD WITHOLD FROM ANNIHILATING YOU FOR DARING TO INTRUDE ON MY DOMAIN!" it didn't speak, but words crashed around the cave like a tidal wav onto a beach.
"Hail to You, Lord of the Deep. I ask you stay your...um tail, before rendering judgment. I bring news," it said in a friendly voice.
"IF YOU SPEAK OF THE DEFEAT OF THE FOX, YOU KNOW ALL OF THE NINE WOULD HAVE SENSED THAT INSTANTLY. A BONFIRE EXTINGUISHED SO SUDDENLY LEAVES ITS MARK!
THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE YOUR INVASION," the serpent raged. The man smiled amiably up at the Ocean King.
"And you should know I would never presume to intrude on the domain of one of the Nine, and especially not you Five Tails."
"THEN WHY HAVE YOU COME," it demanded.
Now was the most dangerous time, as what needed to be said must be put delicately to avoid the Five Tailed Serpent's wrath, but also needed to be done quickly to lest its patients wear out. The Lord of the Deep was not one to trifle with, even for one such as it. "I have come here to find your opinion on certain subjects of which are of mutual interest, and hopefully discover how you would act in, hmmmm, shall we say hypothetical situations," it said with care.
A long pause occurred, and the man shaped beast began to pick one of the contingency plans it had laid out before hand. Then, "GO ON."
If it had lungs, it would have exhaled before again speaking. "Well, the world has changed much since you last wrecked ships in open sunlight. Men are spreading everywhere, like mold. They have grown in power, but not in intellect and still war amongst themselves like the minor demons do," it said, not trying to disguise its contempt. "These insects are ripe for..."
"ENOUGH" the Lord of the Deep interrupted "I WILL NOT BE CAUGHT IN YOUR MACHINATIONS. I AM NOT THE FOREST SHADOW, AROGANTLY DISMISSING WHAT MEN ARE CAPABLE OF."
"I cannot believe you of all the demons would fear men," it replied in disbelief. "They break like dry leaves before us!"
"IT IS THINKING LIKE THIS THAT CAUSED THE NINE TAILS TO NOW LIVE IN THE BELLY OF A MEWLING HUMAN INFANT!" the Five Tails shot back. AND YOU WOULD DO WELL TO REMEMBER, THOUGHT REAPER THAT NONE OF THE NINE HAVE HEARD OR FELT THE RACOON OF THE DESERT'S PRESENCE IN DECADES. I DO NOT FEAR HUMANS, BUT NEITHER DO I UNDERESTIMATE THEM."
"Others are not so reluctant to enjoy themselves with the affairs of Men," it said.
"IS THIS WHY YOU TRED HERE IN THE GUISE OF A HUMAN?" the Serpent's scorn would have been recognizable to a dead man, and it lashed one of its tails, causing a whirlpool in the lake.
"I've found it speeds things along nicely, not to mention fun," it said in equal parts malice and amusements.
"AS I HAVE SAID, I WILL NOT BE A PART OF YOUR GAMES, TWO TAILS."
"In all honesty, I am not asking for your support," the thing ignored the rumble of amusement at the word 'honesty' "I simply ask you stay out of my fun on the surface. I'm not one for sharing my toys."
"I CARE NOTHING FOR MAN'S WORLD."
At that, the Two Tails quirked an eyebrow. "I've heard that you had taken in some human refugees over a century ago. Was that just a rumor?"
"MY CHARGES ARE MY CONCERN, AND YOU SHOW NO FURTHER INTEREST IF YOU WILL TO CONTINUE TO EXIST, MIND DRINKER."
"Of course," it said. But interest didn't leave its ageless eyes. "But, as to what I ask?"
"I WILL NOT INTERFERE."
"That is all I ask. The Elemental Countries and their Hidden Villages are mine."
"THEN WE ARE DONE HERE. LEAVE. NOW." The Serpent's red eyes closed but the Second of Nine still felt it was being observed with a deep hate.
"Of course," and the Two Tailed Boar turned on its heel and walked out the way it came.
-------------------------------
Whew. Done with the easiest part. Like the title says, I'm going to eventually focus on the war between the Leaf and its allies and, well, the Leaf's enemies who we'll meet hopefully soon. Chapter 1 is almost finished being written out long hand, but my internet conectivity is sporadic so it might now be up till the end of August. So here's a teaser in case I suck and don't put it up.
-----------------------
"Bah, it seemed my reputation proceeds me. I didn't take five steps into Fire Country when I picked up one of your ANBU squads shadowing me. And it only got worse when I entered Leaf proper! Every Chunnin and Jounin I passed would tense up and halfway reach for a weapon in case I went beserk and lay waste to a few city blocks on my way. As if I'd do anything so gauche," Ishikawa snorted as he set aside his sword and flopped into a chair in front of the Third's desk.
---------------
Leo: (July 23 - Aug 22)
You'll feel a lot better with warm clothes on your back and food in your stomach, proving that cannibalism has a couple things going for it.
---
Jon
"And that must have caused my dad's brain to break in half, replaced by a purely mechanical engine of revenge!"

I had some time this afternoon, and decided to use it updating the DW Song Wiki.
The Offensive, Sensory/Communication, Healing, Transformation, and Metasong categories now have all the official songs from the list Bob posted on 24 March, many of the more recent suggested songs are in the Wiki, and every category has at least one song...
-Rob Kelk
(Edit: It helps if I get the URL right...)
--
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

Many of the characters/templates from GURPS Shapeshifters will have to wait until GURPS Powers, which will hopefully have updated values for the various advantages and disadvantages that apply to Alternate Form and Morph (I know that Retains Mass has changed, so I can't be sure what else has ...) This one, though, was relatively easy.

Inspector L. Martello Rosenbaum (661 points)
Attributes: ST 10 [0]; DX 14 [80]; IQ 13 [60]; HT 12 [20].
Secondary Characteristics: Dmg 1d-2/1d; BL 20 lbs.; HP 10 [0]; Will 13 [0]; Per 13 [0]; FP 12 [0]; Basic Speed 6.50 [0]; Basic Move 6 [0].
Advantages: Alternate Form (Helicopter) [402]; Appearance (Attractive) [4]; Contacts (Four street contacts; skill-15, usually reliable, 9 or less) [16]; Legal Enforcement Powers [10]; Police Rank 4* [20]; Status 3** [10]; Wealth (Comfortable) [10].
* This is a best guess; I don't have my copy of GURPS Cops anymore.
** Includes +1 from Police Rank.
Disadvantages: Code of Honor (Honest cop) [-10]; Curious (12) [-5]; Enemy (Various Criminals; medium-size group, 9 or less) [-10]; Frightens Animals [-5]; Intolerance (Criminals) [-5]; Unnatural Feature (Metallic silver eyes) [-1].
Quirks:* Always wears sunglasses when he can get away with it; Doesn't use his first name; Sardonic sense of humor; Uncongenial. [-4].
* "Cool under pressure" is not a "slight mental disadvantage".
Skills: Administration (IQ-1, A)-12 [1]; Area Knowledge (Epsilon Indi III) (IQ+1, E)-14 [2]; Area Knowledge (Galaxy) (IQ, E)-13 [1]; Area Knowledge (Prentiss City) (IQ+3, E)-16 [8]; Beam Weapons (Pistol) (DX+3, E)-17 [8]; Cartography (IQ, A)-13 [2]; Computer Operation (IQ, E)-13 [1]; Criminology (IQ+2, A)-15 [8]; Detect Lies (Per, H)-13 [4]; Electronics Operation (Sensors) (IQ, A)-13 [2]; Expert Skill (Planetology) (IQ, H)-13 [4]; Fast Talk (IQ-1, A)-12 [1]; First Aid (IQ, E)-13 [1]; Forensics (IQ, H)-13 [4]; Interrogation (IQ, A)-13 [2]; Intimidation (Will+1, A)-14 [4]; Karate (DX-1, H)-13 [2]; Law (IQ-1, H)-12 [2]; Navigation (Air) (IQ-1, A)-12/15* [1]; Piloting (Helicopter) (DX+1, A)-15 [4]; Savoir-Faire (IQ, E)-13 [1]; Shadowing (IQ, A)-13 [2]; Streetwise (IQ+1, A)-14 [4].
Helicopter Form (430 points)
Attributes: ST+51 (No Fine Manipulators, -40%; Size, -30%) [153].
Secondary Characteristics: SM +3.
Advantages: Absolute Direction [5]; Absolute Timing [2]; DR 10 [50]; DR +10 (Limited: Shaped Charges, -60%) [20]; Doesn't Eat or Drink [10]; Enhanced Move 2 (Air Speed 42) [40]; Flight [40]; High Pain Threshold [10]; Intuitive Mathematician* [5]; Ladar (Increased Range 300x, +80%) [36]; Machine [25]; Night Vision 9 [9]; Payload 6 (10 cf cargo, 1 passenger) [6]; Peripheral Vision [15]; Photographic Memory [10]; Radar (Increased Range 300x, +80%] [36]; Radio [10].
Perks: Accessories (Bullhorn, IFF, Siren & Flashing Lights, Spotlight) [4].
Disadvantages: Aerial [0]; No Manipulators [-50]; No Sense of Smell or Taste [-5].
* "AI" no longer includes Mathematical Ability, so I dropped it from this template as well.

Edit: subbed in Nathan's character names
Edit2: We gots a title! Tatsu no Kanshin!

Dramatis personae:
Garyuno (Of the fanged dragons) Kennan (wise son) - typical spiky-hair-anime-guy
Kouga (Elegant) Tsuchi (sledgehammer) - typical anime tomboy, Kennan's oldest/best freind
Kouga (Elegant) Gaku (music) - annoying little kid borother to Tsuchi
Gosai (Five colors) Miyou (point of view) - the new female transfer student, long black hair and red eyes
Kogal and Groupies - the Popular Girls
Sensei - Kaji or GTO type male teacher, talked into herding the monkeys on a field trip

So, anyway. Miyou transfers into the class the day before they're due for a cultural field trip to some mountain shrine or other. Kennan is immediately smitten with her graceful walk, flowing hair, and striking eyes. Tsuchi sees him going all gaga and makes a disruption to get him to snap out of it. Kogal sniffs at her, and the Groupies twitter.
Deboarding from the bus at whatever mountian, Sensei takes a headcount (Gaku somehow managed to come along also, much to Tsuchi's annoyance), then tells the kids to piss off and meet him at the shrine up top in half an hour, because he's got a headache from the damn bus ride and needs a smoke. They wander off in groups.
Kogal and Groupies pounce Miyou, who has set out up the (traditional style, wooden scaffold type) stairs that go across the cliff to where the shrine is on her own, having kept to herself on the bus ride. (She's a Strong but Quiet & Reserved type) When she brushes off Kogal's rather condescending offer to 'let Miyou hang around with her' Kogal mocks her (taking special note of freakish red eyes) and naturally so do the Groupies. Tsuchi sees this from where she and Kennan are trying to corral Gaku a bit further back, tells Ken to handle him for a minute, and rushes up to tell Kogal to lay off, or she'll kick their asses again. Kogal snipes back at her unfeminine behavior, then makes haste up the steps. Miyou tells Tsuchi that was unneccesary, but she ignores the mild brush-off and makes with the freindly chatter anyway, if mostly one-sided. She coaxes a half-grin out of Miyou for a moment, and does a little end-zone dance as they reach one of the landings.
Meanwhile, Kennan has settled on racing Gaku up to keep him occupied, and they are closing in rapidly on the girls' position. Ken, being a bit on the weenie-boy side of standard anime male build, is getting tunnel vision as they close on the hudred-fifty foot up mark, where the girls are, and is so focussed on where his next step is going that he doesn't see the girls until he rams headfirst into their butts. After some arm waving all three keep their balance, but Miyou yells at him a bit and delivers an anime-tough-girl-thwap. Gaku, of course, thinking it's great fun, decides to jump on his back at the same time, and the resulting loss of balance sends them both over the railing.
Gaku is also shaken loose by the stumble, so he ends up dangling from Ken's left arm. Kennan himself is dangling by the right arm from where Miyou has both hands wrapped around his wrist, Tsuchi being a half-second slower snagged her by the waist to help anchor.
Grips are a little slippy, so with a kiai of utmost effort, Kennan manges to bring his arm up (curl style first, to get Gaku in close to his shoulder, then up to about head hieght) and Tsuchi lets go to grab her brother, but when she tries to put him down he clings like a monkey and she can't even get an arm loose.
Kennan, shaking from that effort, just dangles, and Miyou's hands are still slipping slowly off his wrist. A quick peek down convinces him that he might as well tell her how cute he thnks she is, taking special note of red eyes. Miyou blushes and tels him to shut up, because he's going to be really embarrassed after "we" pull him up. (Tsuchi is still trying to get "Gaki" to let go, which only makes him cling tighter. A couple of other students are rubbernecking but don't have presence of mind to help.)
Just as his hand slips to the point she's only holding his palm, Sensei runs up and does a slide on his chest to end between Miyou's (spread for traction) feet, one arm out to grab Kennan by the collar. He does the arm-curl lift like it's easy, then Miyou and a finally-loose-except-one-leg Tsuchi pull him over, and the rubbernecks clap appreciatively until Sensei flips into a kipup and bawls them out for just standing there when lives were in danger as if they were watching the evening news.
Meanwhile, Kennan has slumped over at the waist, panting for breath and trying to get rid of the shakes. After a few seconds, he sees Miyou standing in front of him, looking as calm as ever, though breathing a bit heavily herself still. He gives a couple fo half-hearted laughs, and then says, "... I'm not embarrassed." This makes her blush again, and she starts to turn away. He calls for her to wait, and drops to a kneeling position, explaining as she looks back over her shoulder that a hundred feet of air between him and the ground made him realise that there are some things too important to worry about how you look when you do them. Then, he bows until his forehead touches the deck of the landing and says that since he owes her his life, anything he can do is at her command. Miyou is nonplussed, Tsuchi is amazed, and Gaku has muckled onto her waist again, still sobbing. Sensei has been yelling at the crowd all this time, so no one has really noticed their little drama.
Then I woke up, still shaky from that view.
- CD
What, you think Samuel L. Jackson isn't going to survive the zombie apocalypse?

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.
--
"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

Helen and I had been talking about writing some "Tales of the Warriors" together a few months ago. The first story was going to be how Doug joined the Warriors, but the whole project seems to have stalled. I came across the opening I wrote for that story just this morning, and I figured, well, what the hell. If we pick the project up again, it'll be a good teaser, and if we don't, well, people still get to enjoy it.
So here you go: call it teaser or fragment or what have you: