Only a whole lot.
-- Bob
---------
...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...
-- Bob
---------
...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...
|
Lettuce+Rogue Bunny=Teaser
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Actually, no.
It's much too quick. Ja, -n =============================================== "Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"
Yeah, I suppose it was a little ... cheap.
May have to revise it. Meanwhile, on the other end of the battlefield-slash-city. Juliet Nao Zhang stared at the polearm, along its shaft, to the arm holding it and then along that to the head and torso of its wielder. She wasn't staring because of the cyborg martial artist's sheer bulk, or the speed and skill he'd exhibited in their brief joust ... She was staring because her Robe had flickered out on her moments ago, and she'd only managed to avoid getting impaled on one of the pointy ends of that pneumatic pike/spear through sheer instinct ... That still left her momentarily on the ground, without the enhancements of her Pearl Robe, with an enemy that had almost matched her in speed when she'd worn it and could have possibly overpowered her where sheer strength was concerned. As it was, with her back to 'normal' for some reason, her options were severely limited. Fortunately, her Aswad opponent seemed as taken aback by the sudden disappearance as she was, and adrenalin was giving her a bit of an edge at the moment. Unfortunately, it wasn't just herself who was in this sort of situation. If it were just her, she'd have taken the chance to try and make a run for it, but ... Everything seemed to suddenly freeze, including her own body. She'd felt this before, always when there was a sort of edge to the situation, either one of fear or of excitement. If was like something had suddenly stopped the world, and for a moment she was absolutely aware ... Of the tension in her attacker's cybernetic limbs that was a prelude to motion, the confused Corals and other two Pearls still trying to put up a defensive peremiter within the Garderobe grounds proper even without their Robes, the oddly distorted laughter and the whisper of air as one of the other Aswad cyborgs brought a barbed metal whip around. The weapon trailed drops of blood from where it had cut into one of the Corals. The world rushed back into motion with a deluge of sound and motion, and a sick realization as the Coral in question collapsed without as much as a sound. Controversely, the sound of the lenses of her spectacles shattering as they fell to the pavement was almost deafening. Or was that the staccato that followed immediately after, almost lifting the whip wielder into the air as red-hot sparks of molten metal flashed across his/her armor. The cyborg dove to the left as it's right arm went back ... Not because he/she was getting ready to retaliate against whoever had attacked, but because it had been blown clear off the shoulder it had been attached to. The Aswad's scream of pain hurled the situation back into motion, even as Juliet scrambled towards the downed - 'Gods, I hope she'd just injured,' was the mantra in her mind at the time. - Coral, her attacker ingnoring her in favor of the greater threat. ETA: to edit typo. Thanks CD. I blame the meds. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm 
Small problem there at the end, Greiver - otherwise, yay! More!
- CDSERVO: Loook *deeeeply* into my eyes... Tell me, what do you see? CROW: (hypnotized) A twisted man who wants to inflict his pain upon others. A kung-fu nun in a leather thong was no less extreme than anything else he had seen that day. - Rev. Dark's IST: Holy Sea World -- "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 It was an odd amalgam of technologies; grav-tech put together from blueprints and spare parts salvaged from Foundation small-craft; arms moved by myomer bundles based on those used in Boomers; control system that was a bastard child of a Direct Neural Interface from one end and the superweapon linkage of a D.D. Battlemover from the other. 'Unit 00' was a more versatile platform than the rather specialized 01 Fujino Shizuru had requested for herself, mostly because - while 01 had been based, in general at least, on the work that had been done on 00 when Fujino caught wind of the project - it had been made with being predecessor of a production line in mind. Future expansion and all. As she slewed the, admittedly, somewhat bulky machine across and around to encircle the group of hostiles, cutting them off from more fragile targets - like the currently Robe-less Otome, some of whom had been too shocked by the sudden loss of their weapons/armor to react to their opponents in time ... ... best not to think of that just yet ... ... Tsujimoto Natsumi said a brief prayer of thanks that her longtime friend and chief designer of both the functional C-Class Frames had focused on ranged weapons as the loadout of this particular model. Twin belt-fed chainguns had been aimed and fired, the Frame's grav-sled configuration making compensating for its motion easier than anticipated. The high density rounds had worked fairly enough against Slaves, and more than well against the whip-wielding Aswad cyborg who'd been about to finish off one of the Corals. Natsumi shifted targets - that one wasn't likely to get up anytime soon - swerving out of the way of a energy laden chakram even as the gun's muzzles barked again and again from their places just above and slightly behind the Frame's 'hands', forcing the assailants to break off their attack and dodge. *** "Sentiment? I'd really expected better of you, Sergei," reddish-pink eyes narrowed. Their owner shrugged. "Well, no. Perhaps not." Sergei Wong looked at his erstwhile superior, his expression a mix of defiance and guilt. "Where's that ruthlesness the North Hound was so famed for? Your dedication to your country? It's sad that you'd just throw everything away, and for what? No disrespect to Arika-chan, but she isn't even that woman's daughter, now is she? Yet, when even after you'd found out you kept financing her stay and studies in Garderobe I'd thought that you may have simply wanted to acquire another useful defense for your homeland. Now I find you here, helping our enemies escape ... such a pity." Those around him were clearly not ready for _that_, for various reasons. "Acting against explicit orders, against your principal, your comrades, assisting in the murder of an important ally ..." Nagi dai Artai's face broke into a smirk. Again, a gunshot rang out. The bullet, much as the one that had felled Smith, seemingly came out nowhere, and with deadly accuracy. It struck steel. Or close enough to it, at least. Nagi's form was obscured by a dark blur of motion that could barely be recognized as a person, twin metallic glints held in the blurs that solidified into hands, arms ... "Fortunately, you did your homeland one very important service that I remain so very thankful for," Nagi was still smirking. "Ne, Nina-chan?" The face could have just as well been set in stone, save perhaps for the slight bit of moisture around the eyes. Otherwise, though, Nina Wong stood tall and proud, the Meister Otome robe of green and black making her look all the more grim. The image was complete with the two black-metal, fork hilted daggers she wielded as her Element. An utterly black GEM glinted a faint red from where it was set in her earring. "And in the spirit of that," dai Artai went on, "I feel you should be given one more chance." Sergei turned to look to Arika, then back to his adopted daugher standing beside the Grand Duke. He hesitated ... "Oh well," Nagi shrugged. "Nina-chan?" For a moment, the girl didn't seem to hear ... before her Master stepped back into the protective shadow of the structure as to avoid further fire, and she leapt. "Arika!" Mashiro called out, holding her hand out even as the named Coral's pendant - which contained a paired set of Meister GEMs - lit up. The Otome reached for the hand ... but it was clear, in that split-second, that they wouldn't manage the contract in time. "Yukinooooo!" Which was when a monumental *CLANG* echoed, as something slammed into the still airborne Nina, and both she and whatever it was crashed into the ground. Dust and dirt were thrown upwards as the landscape gained a new crater. Or rather, someone. The voice had certainly been familiar enough, and the manner of arrival only confirmed it. After all, where she lacked subtlety, Haruka Armitage was wont to make up for it with sheer brute force. Gah. It's been too long. Also, I can't seem to write Nina-dialogue worth a damn, hence her silence in the latter segment. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
meh her silence actually works rather well.
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?" B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
Once upon a time, there was a fanfic which was a rewrite of Mai-HiME. You could say that it was planned to run for fifty-two episodes. Unfortunately, the money started to run out, so that was cut to only twenty-six. Which was a problem, and a serious one, but still enough to be a good yarn.
Then the 'show's' 'writer' (muse) walked out during the filming of Episode 11. Time will tell whether the rest of the production team will be able to eke out a satisfactory conclusion by Ep. 13 - or even if they'll get that far - but in the meantime, they though y'all might like to know what was originally supposed to happen. The first Arc - call it, Introduction, went off without a hitch, bringing the HiME-Sentai and their various supporting characters onto the scene and setting things up for the Moe Arc, a schoolyard romance with a side of explosions. Nagi was supposed to use the Orphans to train the HiME in combat and drive them to form tighter bonds to each other - and, thereby, increase the emotional disturbance that would drive the Festival one it turned them against each other and, therefore, the power it would make available to the Obsidian Lord once he manifested. Akane and Kazuya would give everyone cavities, Tate and Mai would, eventually, become an official couple, and Akira and Takumi and Natsuki and Shizuru would provide a double-dose of 'awkward-cute'. But that didn't happen, because of the cutting of the second season, so things went straight into the Festival Arc, wherin Tate, having been captured by SEARRS and pumped dry of all information, then used as an experimental subject, is convinced (with 'assistance') that the key to defeating the Obsidian Lord is to steal the festival's power out from under his nose at the critical moment, then turn it against him. Defeating the Lord permanently will require a great deal of power, which he then turns his mind to generating. Several things would have come of this, among them Haruka learning Yukino's secrets in the most unflattering possible way, more than one variant on the theme of date rape, and, after having the possiblity pointed out to him by someone else using a sledgehammer, Nao's seduction, flaunting in front of Mai, and eventual abandonment. Oh, and did I mention that Dr. Kuga is still alive? Along the course of this arc it will be carefully hinted several times that Akane, far from being under the control of SEARRS, is in fact a double-agent... along with, having once loaned her boyfriend out as a shoulder for Mai to cry on, finding herself as one leg of an extremely uncomfortable triangle. And then, when Tate clues in to the fact that he's being manipulated and lied to at the eleventh hour and wades through approximately a bazillion rentathugs trying to stop the Endgame, we find out that the HiME-Sentai's spy in the SEARRS-gumi was never Akane at all. It was Nao, and the hints that were dropped about Mai-Kazu-Akane turn out to include no names and also fit with the Mai-Tate-Nao tangle. And the assorted HiME barrel in to pull their wayward friends' collective tuchus out of the fire... except Yukariko was quite genuinely subverted and puts up a fight - casualties were never decided - while Natsuki talks her mama down until, for a split second it looks like a happy ending. Then the Obsidian Lord says 'go' and Akane takes Dr. Kuga's head off. Because he wasn't posessing Reito or Takumi... he's controlling Kazuya. Natsuki and Shizuru are gone in the chain reaction from that - yes, Mama Kuga had gone through the same procedure Tate had - the gates come down, the Festival is complete, the HiME star is opened and the two remaining Lovely Beauties released. Nagi and the various other minions of the Dark hound the surviving HiME for a space while they try and assemble their emotional balance again, and in the interval, Obsidian and his harem go about wrecking as much of the current world order as they can find, starting with SEARRS before, eventually, the HiME-sentai manage to pull themselves together enough to carry out an assault on his fortress pretty much straight out of the manga - blowing past Akane and Marie and the third whose name I forget before taking out glass-ass, capturing his power supply, and... Cuing an anime-style happy ending, complete with terrified and rather tired-looking Tate bookended between two redheads... well, anime-style except for the fact that they're sitting on Kagutsuchi's back, anyway. Ja, -n (actually has a thing for girls with black hair... among other features) =============================================== "Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"
Look at it this way. At least you're planning these things out.
Me? This has always been running more on 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' than anything else. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm 
Truth, friend Lucas. Truth.
''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
I've been looking back and to the side recently, which resulted in 'Back in Black' and the resurrection of a couple of other ideas I'd meant to intro to TD1940 - they'll stew for a while yet, but at least one more TD1940 short will be coming around for Christmas.
Then I took another look at 'Empress' New Robes'. I said a while ago that I wanted to do a rewrite, but now that I've taken a long, hard look at the whole thing I've decided that I really didn't like the way it was going. It was too contrived, made too little 'sense' (if anything I've written makes sense at all, that is), and needed a serious kick in the arse to get beyond being a cookie-cutter sort of story. Then I had me a depression, chugged down too many energy drinks in one sitting, put on some Iron Maiden ... and decided, to hell with it, I'm going experimental. I'd been a lot of things during the past few years, and waking up has never been a very pleasant experience. Wait. Let me rephrase that. Waking up after a Crossing has never been a pleasant experience. For one thing, the whole 'waking up' part of that sentence implies one of the reasons. The first time, I ended up coming to in the middle of having four triggerhappy vigilantes shoot me full of holes, and a few minutes away from turning the surrounding countryside into something out of a Fallout sourcebook. The second, I had to break my way out of a cloning tube, ended up being a dead ringer for fandom's poster child of shota yaoi. That's not even mentioning the megalomaniacs, Angels, and various things in-between that happened there. Or the conflicting memories. Eh. The third time, which had been the one immediately before this one, I ended up face-down in the Pacific. During a storm. If it hadn't been for the AT Field and specific physiology that came with being a half-Angel of the Evangelion kind I'd have drowned to death. Still, those times had been different from this most recent attempt, if only in that I'd always been traveling on my own, so to speak, before now. No idea how I'd gotten started on this trip, and neither am I certain what ended up throwing my disembodied spirit out of the wrecked D.D., across Reality, and into what had been slated to be Kaworu Nagisa's body ... and the sort of energies released by an Impact type event can't really be called easy to control either ... this time, though, I hadn't been trying to ride things out on my own. Not that things had gone according to any sort of plan this time around, either. That much was obvious enough as soon as I was back to my senses, and surrounded by red. Alright, maybe I'm being overly dramatic here, but it seemed like every single emergency LED on the board was glaring at me, and the whole thing was amplified by the fact that the shell of the ship around me seemed like it wanted to fall apart on me at a moment's notice. You know how some mistakes could have been avoided if you'd just put a little more thought into things before committing? Case in point ... the Ulysses had been built with riding and harnessing ambient energy in mind. It's auxiliary source of propulsion was a cluster of gravitics nodes of the model used in Bianca smallcraft, and tertiary consisted of the traditional series of maneuvering thrusters, but the primary was still an array of energy sails that had been slaved into sync with my AT Field via direct neural feedback. They worked well. In fact, they worked too well, since I vaguely recalled the scramble to have them bleed off excess energy - a failed scramble, I might add. The concentration breached terminal levels, tore a hole through the Between that I'd always experienced during Crossings - and tossed the ship back into Reality, or _a_ Reality at least, at the sort of relative velocity that went very much past excessive. Which was when things really went to hell. Or what else would you call plowing into atmosphere at relative speeds somewhere within a fraction of C? In the end, the Ulysses had blown ninety percent of its sail capacitors, over half of the grav nodes, and the hull had been twisted almost beyond recognition - that last bit was only partially due to the re-entry. Most of it came from digging a kilometer long furrow through the desert sands, when the effort of keeping the whole thing, myself included, from burning up finally registered. Luckily, by then I'd managed to bleed off enough speed and heat that I didn't end up an anonymous puddle of slag. Still, when I did come back to my senses, the most concerning thing wasn't the fact that the ship I'd spent the better part of five years of work on was little more than a heap of very expensive scrap - judging from what readouts still worked - or the fact that, from what I recalled of how the planet looked from orbit, I wasn't any closer to being home than I'd been last time. It wasn't even the fact that the energy and heat bleed on reentry would likely have any sufficiently advanced culture scrambling to get somebody out here ... that was something I felt I could more or less deal with. No, it was the bit where I woke up and discovered that, out of the blue, one of the other acceleration couches in the crew compartment held a very much unconscious brunette in what looked like a school uniform, and who looked like she'd just come out of a war zone herself, judging by said uniform's state. And that, in a nutshell, is how I met Fujino Shizuru. --- Demonbane Ltd. presents Incarna: Schwarzweiss the 'Empress New Robes' remake by Griever Copyright 2006(c) --- What, exactly, do I mean by experimental? Well, since it's a song that had me motivated to do this, it'd be only fitting to build the fic around said song. Have you ever felt the future is the past, but you don't know how...? A reflected dream of a captured time, is it really now, is it really happening? Don't know why I feel this way, have I dreamt this time, this place? Something vivid comes again into my mind And I think I've seen your face, seen this room, been in this place Something vivid comes again into my mind All my hopes and expectations, looking for an explanation Have I found my destination? I just can't take no more The dream is true, the dream is true The dream is true, the dream is true Think I've heard your voice before, think I've said these words before Something makes me feel I just might lose my mind Am I still inside my dream? is this a new reality Something makes me feel that I have lost my mind All my hopes and expectations, looking for an explanation Coming to the realization that I can't see for sure I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, please save me from myself The dream is true, the dream is true The dream is true, the dream is true I get up put on the light, dreading the oncoming night Scared to fall asleep and dream the dream again Nothing that I contemplate, nothing that I can compare To letting loose the demons deep inside my head Dread to think what might be stirring, that my dream is reoccurring Got to keep away from drifting, saving me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself Lost in a dream of mirrors, lost in a paradox Lost and time is spinning, lost a nightmare I retrace Lost a hell that I revisit, lost another time and place Lost a parallel existence, lost a nightmare I retrace I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself The dream is true, the dream is true The dream is true, the dream is true -Dream of Mirrors, Iron Maiden Keep your fingers crossed, people. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
Okay, here we go.
Have you ever felt the future is the past, but you don't know how...? A reflected dream of a captured time, is it really now, is it really happening? She was on the edge of exhaustion, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. She didn't let it show, though. Couldn't afford to. Grin and bear it. From worrying, through troubling, into and past bad to turn down towards 'straight to hell'. Thus, the downward spiral of the past few months had turned, twisted, and proceeded on its way without as much as a hitch, despite any and all efforts to halt it. And hell is as accurate description as any, she thought, though the intense onslaught of noise made it hard to do even that much. Cardair's army had been pushing hard today, and despite their own determination they'd been on a steady, if staggered, retreat ever since the morning. An artillery shell detonated nearby, close enough to shower her and those around her with dirt and bits of debris. She couldn't bring herself to do as much as flinch. Casualties had been ... horrific. Not on their side, thankfully, but that didn't change the fact that the enemy had paid a heavy price for each and every step. A dispassionate, hollow voice in the back of her mind reminded her that they could afford to pay it. Especially with their so called allies' aid. An aide rushed up to her, bent nearly double where she stood tall, and started to try and pull her towards cover ... ... she let him, but kept looking. Kept watching. Death was happening all around them. People she'd been responsible for, people she'd sent to fight, people who trusted her ... were out there, dying. She didn't even realize she'd been brought under cover, and only a pair of arms wrapping around her in a hug broke her out of the numbness. The next several minutes were people trying to get her to sit, to sleep, or simply to rest. She sat, breath escaping in a hiss. flash And what remained of her strength and fortitude quietly slipped away. For a moment, in this hectic, dreary, horribly new world, she was at peace. She closed her eyes. Maybe, for just a moment, she could afford to. She didn't as much as hear it. What was there to hear, after all. The artillery barrages were loud enough even from this far back that you had to shout just to make yourself heard. The warmth splashed her face, her lungs filled with the coppery smell she'd come to know and despise, eyes snapped open with a sense of utter wrongness going through her at the sight that, at first, didn't wholly register. When it did, there was no more fatigue. No more soreness. Only pain and anger ... ... and she snapped awake with a gasp. "... Madam President, are you alright?" Momentarily startled and wild eyes scanned the darkened chamber. One of her personal guard. Rain hammering on the windows, mutely because of the soundproofing. No more. Nothing more. Things snapped back into focus. "Yes," she replied, momentarily gathering herself. "I'm fine. What is it?" The woman looked like she was uncertain what to say, then firmed as she came to a decision. "I was told you wanted to be woken when intelligence reported. They say they've found another leak." The words worked like a shot of adrenaline, and it wasn't minutes before she was dressed and heading down to the bunkers underneath the Presidential Palace's West Wing. It took her twice that to go over the report with a practiced ease she'd have preferred to never have acquired. Necessity. She hated necessity with a passion. Almost as much as she hated ... creak "Minister Bertram," her tone was neutral as the door swung back behind her, lock clicking as it locked into place. Things change. People change. Sometimes, in ways they never thought they would, or even could. "Fancy seeing you here." Minister of Agriculture of the Republic of Aries, Benedict Bertram. A kindly elder gentleman, thorough and very much unconcerned with anything outside of his field of expertise. Trusted adviser in that particular field. It's always the ones you'd never expect it from. "Madam President," he responded levelly. "Only one question, Minister." "Your little _pets_ already asked me their questions," anger. Fear. Desperation. But mostly fear. Even behind the level tone. "Why?" "What? Why? WHY?!" he almost shouted. Almost, because his voice had already been hoarse when she'd come in. "Because we're dying, that's why! This nation, this country, we stagnate, never _dare_ to reach and improve things that could be done simply with only a slight reform of the laws! The technology is there, we need only to reach for it, and we could end it all! End the families going hungry during a bad harvest, end eating away at Earl's and the Republic's resources, end ..." "Benedict Bertram," she said, coldly. Idealists. She hated idealists. All but one. And it wasn't herself. She'd ceased to be one that on that stormy, war torn afternoon. "You have been charged with conspiring with the enemy, giving up state secrets, and being a willing accessory to the suffering of this nation's people. Under Martial Law of the Republic of Aries, and as the Commander-in-Chief of her Armed Forces, having examined the evidence provided to me and hearing your own testimony, I judge you guilty of high treason." It was a few moments later that she stepped from the room, letting the door swing half-closed behind her. One hand went to the side, and one of the guards by the door took the offered sidearm, his expression stony. Haruka Armitage, Acting President of the Republic of Aries walked away without as much as a glance over her shoulder, the hot brass of a spent bullet casing sizzling in her tightly clenched left hand. I can't forgive them. I won't forgive them. I know it isn't what you would have wanted. I'm sorry that I'm not a good enough person to live up to your expectations. But I can't be anything else. For what they did to you, and to Aries, they will pay. I'll make them. Even if I have to burn Earl to the ground to do it. I still love you, Yukino. I figured, the first actual post-prologue scene should be one to give some substance to the world. Also, this is likely contradicted somewhere in canon, but let's assume for a moment that a Robe needs to be active in order to give both Otome and Master the feedback thing. Handwave it away with 'aural pattern overlap required for synchrony and stabilizing of solid hologram energy manifestation designated as Robe' or something. *handwaves* -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
And now heading towards an even more complete AU.
It's all like a huge, elaborate joke. If only the punchline were funny instead of so damn pathetic. Natsuki Kruger thought as she sipped her tea and looked out over the skyscape of Windbloom's capitol. What was left of Windbloom. The rest of it had been ... 'liberated', supposedly. Nagi dai Artai, Grand Duke of Artai, had gone and announced that the newly crowned Queen wasn't the rightful successor - that she'd been an impostor all along, ever since that night years ago when 'forces unknown' had attacked the Castle that was home to Windbloom's Royal Family and slain all of them, save one - the infant daughter. Then he'd gone on to proclaim that he'd found the rightful Queen. That course of events in and of itself would have merely been more politicking, not something Garderobe ever got too involved in outside of acting as mediators. When Nina Wong ... or, should that have been, the contesting Mashiro blan de Windbloom, who'd been slated as a candidate for Garderobe before the 'revelation' the Grand Duke had so skillfully pulled off, was murdered, things became far more complicated. It's always disconcerting, seeing yourself on video feed. Especially when you know it's not you. For instance, Natsuki Kruger was damn sure she'd not left Windbloom in a while, and hadn't visited Artai in years. Close to a decade, actually. And she was also certain that she hadn't shot a black haired girl in the back from point blank range recently either. As in, ever. There was something horrifyingly fascinating for her in that recording. Sort of like watching a train wreck. Of course, Windbloom stood firm in its belief in Garderobe ... or so she'd have liked to believe, if it weren't for a nagging little voice in the back of her mind telling her some of the nobles were also quite happy with the pretender being eliminated. After all, the current Queen was much to their liking. Easily manipulated. Aries, long standing allies of Windbloom ... well, relatively long standing, at least ... remained with them. Which was when Artai and Cardair had declared war. A bloody, ugly, no-holds-barred war. One they were losing. Because, while Garderobe Otome fought alongside Windbloom and Aries forces, the enemy matched them not with quality, but with quantity. Of Slaves. Among other, even more unexpected, forces. -Griever ETA: nothing to see here. 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
today's will be short. Just got in, and I'm feeling like falling down and taking my eyes out for the night. Hence ...
The landscape flowed past underneath, in tones of yellow and brown of the deserts that had been covering the better part of Earl ever since the Dragon King War fifty years ago. It went all but ignored. She'd always coveted this, ever since her first memory. This tangible feeling of power at her fingertips, pure and simple, and hers! "I see the target, Leader!" came a voice in her ear, even as a sleek black shape flashed past her from below, slowing as it ascended past the rest of the group and finally settled on her wing. A moment later uplink was established, and information interchanged between them. Shiho Huit, commander of Valkyrie Squadron Three, Cardair Special Forces, didn't reply. She didn't need to. The wind howled outside of her Robe's protective shell as the delta formation of Schwarz-engineered Otome dove towards their prey, joining in their leader's manic laugher. More tomorrow. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm 'Don't know why I feel this way, have I dreamt this time, this place? Something vivid comes again, into my mind,' And I think I've seen your face, seen this room, been in this place, Something vivid comes again, into my mind,' M.I.Y.U. was being hounded. There was no other word for it. Even as the black cloaked form of the Merciful Intelligential Yggdrasil Unit ran, fast enough that she seemed to glide over the sands instead, she was nonetheless aware of the pursuit which made this sort of action necessary. And after three days, she was beginning to tap her reserves. It was as close to being 'strained' as she could get, all things considered. On a strictly mechanical level, she'd been built to last through more strenuous conditions, and had done so on numerous occasions in the past - purely physical wear wasn't something she worried about, seeing as self repair systems could maintain her and themselves for as close to an indefinite amount of time as estimates could ascertain. Unfortunately, the alloy, myomer and pseudo-flesh, not to mention the mind, had to be worked by _something_, and no matter how efficient the powerplant, eventually the power cells' charge would be depleted in the wake of this much drain. The android pushed off, dust trailing in her wake even as she rose, then seemed to hang in the air for a moment, before plummeting downwards. She twisted, contorting around her center of mass, legs directing the descent and keeping momentum mostly forward all the while even as the canyon's stone walls were marred by her armored boots' impacts, chips of rock raining down to the ground below. A howl from above, rising into a keening whine as the hunters spiraled upwards, having missed their prey. For all that she was being chased, for all that she was focused primarily on protecting the person currently cradled by one slim and disproportionately strong arm and shielded from the friction of air resistance by her cloak, Miyu was still primarily a combat model. Possibly the most advanced combat system on the face of the planet, in fact. The battle computer that always ran parallel to her consciousness was constantly evaluating, constantly analyzing ... At the sixth rebound, she twisted the impacting foot just slightly, the imbalance throwing her into a spin. Her free arm reformed, its composition changing as it was raised and pointed up and back along her path. Focus. Zoom. Targets. Seven V-type Otome. Range. 300 meters and closing. Compensating for relative momentum. Calculating ballistic arcs. Firing solution compiled. Accuracy approximation ratios in excess of .75. Set mode of engagement to Barrage. Firing. ... it's weird. These things seem to be writing themselves. I'm going out for breakfast. More tomorrow, at the latest. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
Today's installment is uninspired, for reasons that have to do with me spending far too much time on finishing Suikoden V.
Rip. Yank. Pull. Kick the hell out of an obstinate bit of warped plating. I remember, way back during the time I didn't have to worry about getting shot up, hunted down, thrown randomly across Realities, occasionally facing insane beings with delusions of godhood ... you know, the 'fun' stuff, I did a bit of a team building exercise for extra credit in college. The whole thing centered around the premise of surviving after living through a plane crash. The setting being a desert and a hundred or so miles away from civilization. Now, what you should most definitely not do in such a case is to get away from the wreck and try to find your own way to 'safety'. Everything else aside, the heap of scrap your ride's turned itself into is a hell of a bullseye. You want to be found as soon as possible? Stay close to the plane and manage what you've got so that it last you the longest amount of time possible. The immediate problem with that approach, given the present situation, should be obvious. I wasn't sure I wanted to be found. This was compounded by the fact that some bits and pieced of Ulysses' hardware managed to survive, more or less. The memory banks that collected what the sensor suite saw being one of those bits. Putting them in, I'd intended to have them gather reference material during the Crossing. If I landed off-target, I'd hoped to see what went wrong and do better on the next try. Well, I did land off target. Jinx. The sensors were now slag, having been the first thing to go during reentry. What they did record, though, was still intact. Enough of the insides remained functional to view them, which I did. Ironically, the optical bundles were the least important to me when putting the Ulysses together. Now, visuals were the most important part of the data. The initial intention behind that had been to find maybe a town in the vicinity. Or, at the very least, find out which direction I'd have to travel in. What I got was not very heartening at all. War rarely is. Or was it a series of wars? Image resolution at the kind of magnification I'd been working with hadn't been the best, but it was enough to tell that there was fighting going on. Troop concentrations, old battlefields, even what looked like active battle ... And as if I needed more problems to make things 'interesting' ... "... am I, dead?" ... my unexpected passenger ended up coming to with the firm belief that she'd just died. Can't you just feel the love? like before, more tomorrow at the latest. Now, breakfast. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm Quote:Well I see nothing wrong with it, beyond that you are posting slower than I can read ![[Image: smile.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/smile.gif) Don't have any constructive comments yet, but rest assured I'll report errors and problems as soon as I find them ![[Image: wink.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/wink.gif) E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?" B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
"Well, I *am* an Angel..."
*g* Looking forward to where you take this Griever. Like the set-up so far. -- ![[Image: nanohafh1.jpg]](http://img221.imageshack.us/img221/6227/nanohafh1.jpg)
... and now, since I would have had to actually think about _that_ conversation, something from another corner of the globe.
Sometimes, she could almost make herself believe ... ... that the world wasn't quite as bad as it seemed at first. ... that there would be something to look forward to, if only she held on long enough. ... that the end could and did justify the means, and the greater good was something glorious for a person to strive for. "... are you out here again, miss?" "Ah!" she turned, startled, though composure returned rapidly. "Yes, I just needed some air. I'll head back now." Once, the view over the vale would have made her sigh, and the architecture of the place she'd come to call home over the past several months would have had her marveling at arched windows, vaulted ceilings, and impeccably preserved reliefs. Proper poise. Proper bearing. It was important. If she focused on those, maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have too much time to think. Fingers briefly touching on the elegant obsidian setting of her left earring, brushing short blond hair back with the motion, the Imperious Azurite, Otome to the Regent of Annam made her way back towards the Grand Hall and the festivities therein. The pale, lingering specter of Erstin Ho trapped behind the mask of dead emerald eyes. Next scene continuing from there, actually, only with a different POV. My immediate impulse would have been to skip back to HiME!Shizuru's POV, but in retrospect that would have been too disjointed. It's going to be a scene or three before we go back into the desert. And no, Katz just doesn't think of himself in those terms. Besides, saying it just may be enough to tempt fate into having him fly around and do good deeds, attack Tokyo, or wear leather and stalk teenaged Vampire Hunters hoping for nookie. -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
well Griever-sama everyone attacks Tokyo or Tokyo Tower at least once. It wouldn't be right otherwise. So if that is the only thing stopping you...
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?" B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
I was about to say: You say that like it's a -bad- thing. Well, maybe the stalking part.
--
I'd personally be more worried that they might force him to fight little miniature battles for the amusement of schoolchildren
or he'll have to ride cross-country in a classic Cadillac at the whim of a benevolent employer, spreading messages of interdenominational peace and love with Roma Downey.
"Dang it Monica! Don't TOUCH ME!" ''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
Possibly significant clue to Shizuru's behavior in the -HiME anime.
If you allow for her self-control and social skills, this sounds exactly up her alley. Ja, -n =============================================== "Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"
Well, better late than never I suppose. I blame research.
That's what I call MGS3:Subsistence these days. That's what it is for Enders' Game, anyway. Hey, I said I had an excuse. I didn't say it was a good excuse. It was far more ostentatious a residence than the Grand Duke of Artai had at his disposal back in his country, which he had to admit made him just a little bit jealous, but his own seat of power served its purpose well enough. It sufficed. Then again, Artai _had_ been nothing but a bunch of loosely associated fiefdoms at constant odds with one-another before he'd taken things in hand. The remnants of a violent past were still there, as was a military that was both more experienced and likely better equipped than that of most other, far larger, countries. Annam, on the other hand, hadn't been involved in serious conflict since the Dragon King War, and had grown plump and, ah, 'aesthetic', with its amassed wealth. This little show of confidence from the newly established Regency was something that needed to happen, which Nagi dai Artai understood more than well enough. Then again, he was a political animal, more so perhaps than any other. He'd clawed his way to the top from being a near-nonentity, fascinated with olden tomes and records of what ancient technology had once upon a time made possible. There was no place for emotions in this particular game, and certainly no place for things like honor, or honesty. There was only power, and its various applications. "An impressive display, your Highness," Nagi commented, stepping into the Regent's little circle of sycophants. Albrecht Ho was certainly a charismatic enough man, with enough force of personality and political clout - not to mention social prestige that his house had gained in supplying Annam with ready defenders since before the war fifty years ago - to make him a sure candidate in their little rat-race. After all, who better to assure the kingdom's stability than one of its staunchest defenders. The Grand Duke had to admit, the move had been done efficiently and without needless fanfare. Enough so that he considered it an admirable example of a terminal phase to long-term political maneuvering. For all of that, though, the salt and pepper haired head of the Ho family, and current Regent of Annam, wasn't really one to keep his point of view on the bigger picture. "Your Highness the Grand Duke, you honor us with your presence," the Regent already had the imperious tones Nagi had all but expected from him down pat. "One does as one must, after all," the boy-ruler shrugged casually. "Basic human decency demands we pay our respects, after all, especially in the wake of such a terrible tragedy." "I would that his Highness Argos could attend, but he shows respect in his own ways," Albrecht commented. 'And he hates being upstaged,' neither said, but Nagi at least thought it. 'The man's worst fault is something he's let become his greatest asset. Well, it's still an asset to us, that ego of his.' After all, once Aswad was implicated in the murders of the Royal Family of Annam, it was an only too willing Argos XIV that set an oddly well planned operation towards the elimination of the problem those of the Black Valley posed. He'd bowed out of attending the festivities, citing the need to oversee the military action on either 'front', though only the clash with Aries could be truly called such. "Speaking of which, I note part of your usual entourage is missing?" "Yes, well," Nagi responded, "this matter hardly deserves an ambassador's presence, and there were other matters he was far better suited at seeing to requesting our attention. Last we've heard from him, the good Major's peacekeeping efforts were bearing fruit." He sipped at the glass of amber liquid he'd picked up a few tables back, not really noticing the taste - something that would have scandalized the host, had he been aware of it. "It's such a pity when a country tears itself apart like that, isn't it?" he offered with one of his patented 'don't mind me, I'm just thinking of something amusing' expressions. "A stable and strong government is so much better." The Regent would later realize that it was one which left him vaguely disturbed. Which, he would also note, was not a new experience when dealing with the Grand Duke. Nate: Quote:I can see it ... just not sure whether or not I can write it. Thanks for the reference material, in any case. Logan: Quote:... now you're giving me ideas. Unfortunately, there were no available experienced agents to instruct newly inducted ones at the time ... so the administration, in their all-knowing wisdom, decided to pull someone from a temp file for the job. Somehow not noticing that said file was marked with 'hazard', 'approach with caution' and 'warning, clearly unstable' right at the top. Which was how the Angel Monica ended up with a new supervisor. And a far wider scope of duty than she'd signed up for. The offending paper-pusher was summarily dismissed to purgatory. As for the results ... well, they weren't _bad_, exactly. *Monica walks past the screen, dressed in Early Gunsmoke, with a huge friggin' cross slung over one shoulder and smoking a ciggie* Yup. Just full of mercy. Sirroco: Quote:Vey. Quote:Hmm. You know what? You're absolutely right! I shall make a conscious effort to include at least one 'attack Tokyo' subplot in a future work. *sage nod* -Griever When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force. When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
That sounds like it could be a fun running gag, and one perfectly applicable to CPO Rhodes; whenever he's in Tokyo a major landmark is always in ruins by the time he leaves, even if it's a post-apocolyptic Tokyo or a variant like Tokyo-3 or Crystal City Tokyo.
"These days I make it a point not to go to Tokyo." "Why's that?" "Let's just say that Gojira's got nothing on me as far as collateral damage is concerned." Black Aeronaut Technologies Group, LLC Aerospace Solutions for the discerning spacer "To the commissary we should go," Yoda declared firmly. "News of this kind a danish requires." |
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