Damn I wish I was that much of a chick-magnet in real life.
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Damn I wish I was that much of a chick-magnet in real life.
Yay! Awesome avatar guy! And one of the first non-dark ships! Double yay! Yes, I'm pro-prettiness. :smalltongue: Bring back the flowers! :smallbiggrin:
Hm, my first time to get killed in the shipping, I believe. Doesn't feel very good. But the fic itself, it's magnificient :smallsmile: You may not have had a pairing in mind, but I'm quite glad I got picked for it. This was very well writen and had I had the seal of approval, this would most definetly get one.
Sorry, should have written "one of the few non-dark." True, there have been a few before, but nowhere near as many as the dark ones.
And yes, I still haven't posted the next chapter, I've nearly finished it and might be posting it later today. Sorry anyone who's ahead of GMT, I'll be posting quite late for me so even later for you. :smallfrown:
Mine are, I hope, as upbeat as the writer. Or at least mildly amusing. I've never had a flair for the dark, mind. I'm like candy floss.
Feel free to fix this with next ship of yours :smallsmile: If I have faith in anything, it's in you doing good work. And before anybody remembers being smart, no, that's not brown nosing.
And I did say I was never killed before, right? Was your post regret at not doing this before somebody else did it, or did I once again managed to perform Epic Fail check at my reading understanding?
To satisfy your desires, sir Mordokai.
Spoiler
Once there was a paladin called Mordokai. He was very nice!
One day, he got stabbed TO DETH.
The End.
Yeah. It just sorta came to me.
Maybe it was a bad idea?
Story I get daily :smalltongue: Some originality wouldn't hurt you :smallbiggrin:
Cute :smalltongue:
Shipping : Making death cute since ????
Hmz.
I need to do another one!
And i also need to write more and be less of a conceptual ideas-man.
Well, the one comment I got on my ships was positive, so I suppose I can write some more short ones if anyone can suggest some pairings.
Ooh, short ships. I like. :smalltongue:
Oh and I've finished writing the sequel (on paper) and I'll post it tomorrow morning. (Me be tired :smallsigh:)
G'night all.
Guess what, guys?
Rabbit got a new cord for her laptop (though, for some odd reason, I can't use the mouse while its plugged in...so I have to unplug it to move the mouse, and then plug it back in when I'm done...)
Anyways, promised shipfics should be coming...eventually.
Also, Kneenibble, that was darkly beautiful. A very interesting take on Cobra and I.
I particularly like that I got to kiss someone to death :smallwink:
Thufir, I'm glad Mordy and I are know even...I died in my fic, he died in that one. We're even!:smallbiggrin:
My only regret is that I have but one life to give for one such as you :smallwink:
Mordy, Mordy, Mordy.
You're no use to me dead...
Yet.
Curly: Yes, it's Antony & Cleopatra. I love the poetry in that play. There's a wicked BBC film of it and the woman who plays Cleopatra is brilliant and hawt.
Thufir: C'est tres bien! The performance you linked is lovely, too.
Another super short fic, inspired by the Kiss or Kill thread:
First Date
Spoiler"I had a nice time, Cristo," Turtle said.
He smiled and looked into her eyes. "So will I."
She didn't understand what that meant until she felt the dagger slide smoothly between her ribs and pierce her lung.
Hey! I haven't done that in...umm....
oh, wait...
Heh :smallredface:
I'm guessing you've read The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot, but I think it's the third of fourth part where he does a whole parody of Anthony and Cleopatra when Agrippa (I think) is describing her on her barge? Well I had to do coursework on The Wasteland and I did a huge paragraph about that section and the corresponding excerpt from Cleo.
That's where I recognised a lot of the style, language and imagery from.
And I may see if I can hunt that down. When was it aired? Who played Cleo?
Ok, after many lies, postponing and delays, I present to you the first chapter of the Escapees series.
Escapees
An Ethrael & Co. Production
Chapter One: Accounts from the AirStarring:
randman22222 as Cyclops/Randy Summers
Kaelaroth as Marvel Girl/Kael Grey-Summers
Calamity as Nightcrawler/Cal Wagner
FF Fanboy as Shadowcat/Stefania "Fan" Pryde
Haruki-kun as Archangel/Warkun Worthington
Ethrael as Storm/Ethrael Munroe
dallas-dakota as Beast/Dr. Dak McCoy
Lykan as Wolverine/James "Lykan" Howlett
And a brief cameo by Kneenibble!
SpoilerDipping slightly downwards after every wing flap, Archangel slowly climbed his way into the sky. Gradually, as he ascended, his wing beats became more and more ineffective as the air thinned and Storm’s weight dragged him down.
She was far heavier than last time he remembered lifting her, not three years ago. Had she put on weight on her honeymoon with the Black Panther? No matter. He had to find a cloud before the planes spot them. Warkun clenched his teeth and beat his wings even more often and strongly.
They had been soaring for three or four minutes when he began to tire of pumping his wings so regularly and hard. He dropped a little and began soaring, interrupting a graceful glide every now and then with a few flutters from the pearl-white, feather canvasses on his back.
As he drifted, now lower, he was able to take in the full beauty of the land below. Between white, overly plumped-up clouds Warkun gazed upon a seemingly endlessly stretching pure azure lake, fortified on its southern side by an equally long forest, as green as the lake was blue. On the opposite side, the landscape descended more steeply into the lake. Narrow slashes of white meandering steeply through the young cliffs exposed to Warkun that a few streams ended up in foaming cataracts and eventually in the lake. There was no sign of where exactly the waterfalls entered it, as the lake was as still as a corpse.
Relishing in the beauty of the land slowly and unnoticedly brought him down below the cloud cover. He only realized this when it was too late.
The valley had once again filled with the roar of engines, almost as if the jets had been waiting to pounce on him whenever they had the chance. Panicking slightly, Archangel beat his wings manically, trying to lose himself and Storm in the dense blanket above.
Ascending, and almost at his goal, he was nearly knocked to the ground as a jet shrieked by, the noise nearly deafening him. Why hadn’t they shot at him? They were relishing the thought that he was at their mercy, enjoying it while it lasted. Toying with him, the bastards. Well he wasn’t at their mercy, certainly not their toy, and he was very capable of proving it.
Hovering in mid-air, he turned and watched the plane zoom off into the distance, flip upwards and twirl its course back to him, much like an Olympic swimmer. His superhuman eyes could make out the pilot inside leaning forward eagerly.
Smiling slightly, Warkun readied himself.
The jet neared, growing every so slightly larger by the second. The pilot leaned forward even more. Warkun could even see foam in the corner of his mouth.
The plane closed in on him even more. A hundred metres, fifty, twenty-five metres, 10…
Warkun lifted his wings - and was gone.
The pilot slowed down and switched the hover shafts on. Mid-air, he searched visibly and invisibly around to see where the avian monstrosity had disappeared. “Angel to Weather-witch. Target has vanished. I repeat, target has vanished. Be aware of any-”
Slowly floating down onto the windscreen from the through the clouds came a white, small feather. It touched down lightly and settle there. Despite the wind.
“Angel? Angel, do you read me?”
The feather lay still.
And in the feather, the pilot could see a perfect reflection of himself.
“Weather-witch!” he shouted, grapping the microphone, “Angel is now Archangel! I repeat, Angel is now-“
The windscreen smashed, the jet shuddered and the engine screamed. Lying embedded amongst the many buttons and switches was a glittering, hard, cold feather.
The jet began to fall. One of the feathers must have pierced the hover engines. The plane span and twirled rushing to meet up with the ground eagerly.
The pilot picked up the microphone one last time and ordered, “Fire upon sight.” Slamming his fist down on the Escape button, the shot up into the sky, abandoning his plane.
Further above, through the foggy clouds, Archangel watched as the jet fell. He watched as the pilot ejected and his parachute caught the wind. Should he fire once more? No, he wasn’t that cruel. He noise began to ease and die down, then begin again.
Warkun searched immediately for the source of the new noise. No jet to be seen, not even to his hawk-eyes.
“Warkun?” came a weak and bemused voice from below.
“Ethrael? We’re being attacked. A jet, but I can’t find it. I-”
He was cut off by a sonic blast aimed right his back. Aimed. He screamed and fell forwards, dropping storm.
“Warkun!” she shrieked as she fell.
Trying to regain his flight pattern and searching for Ethrael through the cloud, Angel was in a state of panic.
The roar of engines brought him back to his senses and priorities. Turning mid-air, he came face-to-face with his attacked. A giant B-2 Spirit, with an equally giant cannon underneath. Spray-painted on top were the capitals KNB.
“KNB? Wha…” his eyes widened upon seeing the cannon begin to glow and spin. “Oh, sh-”
He stopped beating his wings and fell out of the way just in time. The cannon re-aimed and fired. The Spirit growled and began chasing. He twisted out of the way. It fired again. The Spirit zoomed up ahead. He flipped up and around. The pilot pressed the button on t he aiming lever. Locked on. Warkun panicked. He was right in front of him. Clear shot. Point-blank. The pilot grinned and pressed. The cannon fired.
No air came out.
The sky was filled with outrage, the clouds fevered and furious. The bellow of an enormous beast wakened from its slumber made the engines sound like a whining kitten, drowning out the sound of the cannon. Unrest was the very essence of the air. Maelstroms of twisting and spinning winds sprouted up arbitrarily. And in the middle of it all rose up Storm. Eyes arcing with lightning, palms glowing with energy.
With a sudden chop of her hand, the wind screamed and a dent appeared on the plane. Then more. Then limbs began to drop off as if the jet had leprosy, first the cannon, then wings and the rest. Slowly and steadily, Ethrael was dismantling the plane.
Through the slowly floating metal debris, Storm managed to remain serene. Feet together, cape billowing gracefully behind. She looked like a floating ballet dancer. She looked like a goddess. She looked astonishing. The illumination of the lightning behind her outlined the near-perfect curvature of her silhouette with an eerie blue glow. Angel had never seen her like this before. Completely in her element.
Finally finishing with the dismantling, Storm brought out the pilot, reluctant as he was. “What does KNB mean?” her voice boomed and echoed from every direction, reverberating sweetly and yet demandingly throughout all.
“Ngh, not – telling you!” the pilot managed.
Storm raised an eyebrow and a bolt of lightning shrieked down, skimming the pilot by inches. The howls of the wind increased. “Would you care to re-think that answer?”
The pilot, now terrified, stuttered. “M-m-my n-name.”
“What is your name?” Warkun demanded.
The pilot bowed his head and muttered something inaudible in the uproar all around. Either Storm managed to hear it or she heard it from the winds, for she looked bemused and far more human now. “What? Knenibble?” What kind of a name is that?”
“I like it, all right!” spat the pilot. He looked as if he would taken the argument far beyond verbal. “It suits me.”
“What, you nibble knees?” chortled Warkun, hand covering mouth, trying to suppress a laugh.
Kneenibble looked dryly at him, “Yeah, cos you’re made as God’s messenger and she’s a puff of water vapour with electricity flashing through it.”
The storm seemed to die down. The clouds dispersed to their own congregations, and the winds began to murmur softly rather than scream. “It doesn’t matter what your name is now, who sent you?” inquired Storm.
Kneenibble grinned, “You know who sent me.”
The X-men exchanged glances. “You’re dismissed.” Announced Storm, and let go. A split second before he fell, the pilot’s eyes inflated and his mouth opened and closed like a fish gulping air.
Watching him drop and scream, Warkun asked, “You’re not actually going to let him fall, are you?”
“Oh no, what do you take me for, a savage?” replied Storm. “The winds do not take being used against their will lightly, and they have their own justice system.”
The corner of his mouth twitched it into a half-smile. “Hrmph. Oh well, we have a long way to travel, we best get started.”
Storm turned round to look at him for the first time. Behind her, the setting sun was now visible and cast her face in even more darkness and dyed her hair a deep blood red. Smiling, she said playfully, “Try to keep up,” and she set off.
Warkun smiled back at her distancing form.
Next: The Tale of the Subtle Ones.
If anyone's interested to have a role in the next parts, PM me or post here. :smallsmile:
Oh and on a side note, I have an idea for a random ship, anyone in particular interested?