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  1. - Top - End - #151
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Devixer's Avatar

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    The Operative
    Patient Interview 4

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    Still covered in orc blood, Merrick entered Captain Baker’s office. His filthy appearance was a stark contrast to the cleanliness of the office. The desk had been cleared of any documents. Which meant the situation that had resulted in Merrick’s summoning was not a good one by any means. The look on Baker’s square-jawed face didn’t help matters either. The man sitting in that chair was one of the few that Merrick could begin to respect, which was why that look almost intimidated him.

    Almost.

    “Sit,” the Captain said, and Merrick obeyed. “Is there a problem, Captain?”

    “Of course there’s a god-damned problem, Hayes! Sixty orcs just attacked the Wales base!” Baker’s North Irish accent provided the perfect underline to his angry tone of voice.

    “I and a few others successfully repelled the attack, sir,” Merrick said, expecting praise. “We suffered no casualties or wounded, sir.”

    “That doesn’t mean much coming from the bastard who provoked the attack, now does it?”

    Merrick was suddenly thankful that Baker wasn’t able to see the face underneath his gas mask. “I don’t understand, sir.”

    “Don’t play dumb with me, Hayes! You’d think I would have a psychic as unpredictable as you without having a way to watch them?”

    Merrick froze at that. He hadn’t thought of that. Why hadn’t he thought of that? All of his plans were reliant on there being no other psychics in the SAS. How could he have made such a basic oversight?

    Baker continued when he saw that Merrick wasn’t going to speak. “I don’t know what the **** you’re playing at, Hayes, but you’ve just caused a hell of a lot of problems for us.”

    “The public won’t care, sir. To them, we just repelled a group of terrorists, sir,” Merrick said. He had to salvage this somehow, some way.

    “Oh, and is that what we should say to the UN? ‘Oh, it’s okay, those were terrorists!’”

    “Tell them what you always do, sir. It was an isolated incident and we are unsure of the cause.”

    If it was possible for a man’s head to burst from anger, Baker’s was getting close. “Absolutely not. I can’t keep covering for you, Hayes. The first two times you did something like this was enough, but know you’ve provoked a direct attack on the United Kingdom! We’re likely to go to war, now, because of you!! Do you honestly think that excuse will fly this time around?”

    Merrick stayed stiff in his chair. He appeared calm, but this was not the case in his thoughts. His plans were this close to being exposed. His efforts were falling apart because of this one mistake.

    “I didn’t think so, Hayes.” Baker gave a long sigh. “The military court will decide what to do with you. Until then, you’re confined to quarters. Coutts will escort you. Get out of my office.”

    “Yes… sir.” Merrick stood and walked to the door. Thoughts rushed through his head as he did so. He had to do something to salvage this! He couldn’t let Baker go to the court with this. There had to be some other option! He went through all the possible plans with each step he took, but he eventually arrived at the only real option he could take as his hand fell on the doorknob. His actions would not be reported to the court. Couldn’t be reported. So, Merrick didn’t open the door, nor did he leave.

    “Did… did you just lock the door, Hayes?” Merrick heard Baker say.

    “Very observant, sir.” Then Merrick heard Baker’s head slam into the desk in font of him. And again. And a third time. He turned around, took his blood-covered ice pick from his pocket, and approached the dazed Captain.


    “That’s all,” Merrick said, placing his hands on the table.

    “That’s all?” Oakley repeated. “Surely, there’s more you can tell me? About Captain Baker’s death, your own motives?”

    “Any other pertinent facts regarding my case can be found in my trial records. I doubt I was brought here to recount my crimes, unless that’s how you work.”

    “No, of course not.” Oakley glanced at the clock; it had been two hours. “That’s the end of this session, Mr. Hayes. You may go back to your cell now.”

    Oakley remained seated as Merrick stood, walked over to the door and let the guard pull him to his cell. Charles waited until the two pairs of footsteps faded away, and then he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

    It wasn’t long before Oakley’s call was answered. “UK military court. How can I help you, Dr. Oakley?”

    “I need access to the evidence from case 35267A.”

    “You’re working on that psychic, Doc? I’m sorry.” The unnamed voice went from neutral to sympathetic. Then it returned to neutral as the person behind the voice continued. “Any specific pieces of evidence?”

    Oakley thought for a few moments before the answer came to him. “I’ll need the gas mask he wore and the ice pick he used to kill Captain Baker.”

    “Right, we’ll have that for you within the week. Good luck.” The phone line cut off and Dr. Oakley sighed. This idea of his was a long shot at best, but he was willing to take any risk to cure Hayes of the numerous psychoses he was afflicted with. And besides, if this didn’t work, what could?

  2. - Top - End - #152
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Finding the Broom Part 1.
    Maya

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    It was early in the evening and Phoebe was waiting at a fork in the road for the stars to come out and guide her way. She often relied on the stars to guide her way, less like a sailor and more like an astronomer. She looked up at them and read stories and parables in them, and took the meanings she saw seriously.

    So for now Phoebe waits for the stars to tell her where to go. She wears a dark cloak the color of moss growing on rock in the forest that she has flipped over one shoulder so she can enjoy the cool night air. Her pants, some sort of homespun cloth that look like it would be itchy, a simple light brown. Her top is a stark contrast, turquoise blue silk that would look out of place on a female pirate, or sultans wife. And barefoot, oblivious of any rocks or sticks she might step on, but enjoying the grass between her toes.

    Her outfit isn't the only thing that makes her look a bit odd, but the stick at her waist that she wears like a sword makes it look like she is playing at being a swashbuckler with his cloak tossed back ready to fight. Also on her belt hangs several small glass bottles filled with various colored liquids. A key, bell, whistle, and a small geode also hang from her belt. And who knows what is in her backpack.

    Phoebe hadn't always been so strange. For a few days after she was born she was pretty normal. Then when she was taken and carried off under a hill to live with a faerie clans ruling family. And there in the Fae she was strange due to being normal, and grew up trying to learn to be strange. And even though she has long since moved on and lives with mortals once again she never really gave up the practice of being strange. Saw no point.

    So waiting for darkness to come Phoebe hums to her audience, the stones and trees, wind and water, earth and sky. And while the tune is simple she hopes it pleases them, and before she knows it the stars have filled the sky, and so she quieted herself and read them as she was taught with the strange stars of the Faeire realm she grew up in. And despite these stars being completely different she sees the paths before her and made her choice and turned right.

    And as she steps to head down her path she stops, staring at the empty path before her. She freezes in fear because for a split second she had seen a dark familiar figure in front of her. A figure that only Phoebe had ever seen and she could never describe it quite right. She remembered telling one of her sword trainers after he asked of her deepest fear.

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    ”He wears a dark cloak that covers hides his body and always seems to be billowing smoke out of it. The smoke is black as ink and moves all around him hiding his features.”

    ”He? So it was a man.”

    ”No, maybe? I think of him as a man, but you wouldn't be able to tell it by looking at Him. I think he has two legs, and only one head. Beyond that it is hard to say.”

    ”Does he talk or attack you?”

    ”No... well I use to talk to him. I had conversations with him. But I was a bit loopy back then, not really wired right.”

    ”Back then?”

    ”You should have seen me.” Skinny and unafraid. Wearing clothes she found in peoples yards or trash, lived in a junkyard. This was she had escaped and ran from the Hill. A was a little wild child who saw magic in all the world. She was Maya then. But that is another story. ”And he doesn't move.”

    ”What do you mean?”

    He doesn't attack me, he doesn't move at all, not an inch. Still as a statue, the only thing that moves is that black damned smoke.”


    Even back then it had been years since she had seen the figure anywhere besides her dull dreams. And years have passed since then. But for that fraction of a second that figure was in front of her blocking her path. She wanted to turn and run down the other way to avoid him. But she knew the stars had said her path could be dangerous, but is the path filled with adventure and excitement. A path to deeper understanding of herself and the world around her. Her chosen path, chosen by her, and she would not turn away because of fear. Not fear of him.

    So she continued down her path, despite the feeling in Phoebe's gut of this path being dangerous it seemed innocent enough. She traveled first with a pair of bickering squirrels who followed her trying to get her to give them treats for free, but she demeaned favors owed from both of them. Then with a cloud of bats, who remained silent to her ears but seemed to flock around her expectantly. She followed them blindly as it quickly became to dark to see as clouds moved in to cover the stars and moon. But listening to their wings flapping she followed them as they swooped around her making sure she didn't run into any trees.

    And then she saw a destination in the darkness, a fire in the distance. So Phoebe made her way that way leaving the bats behind in the darkness silently waiting for her.

    The woman whose fire Phoebe had found has a small covered wagon and seems to be cooking something in a large cauldron on her fire. She is dressed in a dark ragged cloak, wearing a large black pointed hat that flops over to one side, with a wide brim. And if you look closely on her nose you might spot a wart or two, though they are fake if you look even closer.

    ”Ah hello there, you startled me. Come sit down my dear, what is your name.”

    ”Why should I tell you that when you are so clearly a witch.”

    ”Just because I am a witch is no reason to be rude. As a matter of fact quite the opposite.”

    Phoebe tends to take her time when talking, often pausing for an awkwardly long time before responding as she thinks things over. This is one of those times. Maybe the witch was right, this could be one of those helpful old witches right, and even if she wasn't it would be better to be polite but wary.

    ”I am called Phoebe, and I thank you for your freely offered gift of a place at your fire.”

    The witch just laughs at this and gives a small bow while trying to stop from chuckling.

    ”Girlie I am not going to swindle a thing like you this late at night this far from anywhere. Sit with me if you choose, I mean you no harm, maybe I could even help you.”

    ”Help me with what?”

    ”That fear you are carrying around with you. Any plain fool can see it.”

    The witch means how twitchy and nervous she appears since seeing the figure earlier in the night. But Phoebe takes it to mean that she sees the figure and quickly looks around for him. Drawing a chuckle from the witch.

    ”There is a medicine I have for fear, it could help you.”

    You think I would trust your medicine?”

    ”Oh it can be dangerous I suppose. Because to defeat your fear you must face it. Do you think you are strong enough to face your fear?”

    Again Phoebe pauses sorting the thoughts in her mind. But this is her Destiny right? To face this is the path she choose. She couldn't turn away now. Besides she didn't fear this witch all that much, she had power herself.

    ”Give me the medicine.”
    Last edited by McBish; 2012-07-27 at 05:37 PM.
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    The stars glimmer
    and I can't help
    but wonder.
    Do they cry on those worlds,
    to?

  3. - Top - End - #153
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Finding the Broom Part 2.
    Maya

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    So the witch heads into her wagon and returns with a small black glass bottle, that has a long twisting neck. Like a swirly straw Phoebe can't help but think. Unable to see in through the glass, and unable to see what kind of potion is inside Phoebe pinches her nose and downs the whole thing. And then the world gets Swirly and Phoebe faints.

    And then she wakes up chocking as a dark smoke pours out of her mouth. She sits up and doubles over gagging and gasping, dry heaving as the smoke slithers out of her. And there he is in the smoke, standing there watching her. Shaking she looks over at the witch who seems terrified and tells her to sleep, and she slumps over.

    Phoebe stands up as the last of the smoke escapes from inside of her and she can breath again. The smoke doesn't just gather around the figure, but spreads out and encircles them covering them in complete darkness.

    So is it this again, the staring contest. Will I hear your voice again like I did as a child.”

    ”Yes a Talk may be nice. It is Time for one I think.”

    Phobe jumps at the voice, not the voice she had talked to as a child. Less of a monster, and more of a mans voice, dark and deep for sure, but no growl to it, rather smooth actually.

    ”Who are you, what kind of Craft brought you here?

    Her words meant to be demanding, forceful bending him to tell her the truth she finds her power faltering, stumbling a bit on her words. She seems surprised by her sudden change.

    ”You have never figured it out over all these years? Then again, you never gave me much thought, and a lot of energy went into you forgetting about the things we did together.

    ”I have never done anything with you. You have followed me, you have entered my life, you killed-”

    ”We, killed. How much of that do you remember now... the ones as Maya, the child trying to be a woman, running from the hill, living in the streets. You convinced yourself I was protecting you, and I was, I couldn't see you end up dead. You understand right? But what about before that. The family at that farm who found you still feral? Yes, that is right you dreamed of that last year. Ever wonder why you dreamed of it after all this time?

    Oh his laugh is smooth to, with just a bit of annoying snort in it. The perfect laugh to hate, and Phoebe hated it immediately.

    ”You killed them. Yes I dream, and remember, but it was you who snuffed out their life, not me. Whoever you are.”

    ”We will get to that, but do you remember farther back. Before you 'escaped' from the Hill. Do you remember what happened, how you got away. Of course it is blurry, it is so traumatic, hard to think of. Obscured. Hidden away from you?”

    There was that laugh again, enough of this. ”Much like you were for much of my life, but it seems you seem clear enough now. And I think it is time to end this.”

    She draws her stick which she has named Sword and holds it in a practiced stance, her muscles showing in her fairly reveling outfit before the dark cloak swirls around her covering all but her head.

    ”You think you and your Stick can fight me. You think you will be able to beat me over the head and win this fight. You don't understand this fight, Which is Why you will Fail.”

    His words crash over her with all of the power she had so recently lost, her Sword now a stick no longer feeling heavy in her hands and it seems slightly foolish. And she takes a step back suddenly scarred.

    ”Do you remember your last birthday in the Hill. The party? Do you remember how you hoped they would finally accept you, really into their family. Do you remember the prank? I do, it was glorious, it is what really let me get out and do something. Stop them from pushing you around, mistreating you. You liked that right. You liked when I killed them, I couldn't do it all messy, but I made that exception for your... what do you call the woman who raises you after kidnapping you?”

    Phoebe seems stunned by the words, as memories are forced back into her mind. She had been renamed to hide this part of it from her. To make her forget, but whatever this force was he was undoing it.

    ”You can't fight me. Because I am your power, placed within you like a inmate in a prison. Or a rare and powerful item in a safe. I am what has filled your world with magic, but I have long existed, much longer then your pitiful mortal life, and I tire of you growing older.

    ”Wait what? I'm not old, I am barely 29... Ok 32. That isn't that old.”

    ”Oh you are fun to poke. But not fun enough I tire of being trapped, and now that I have some semblance of control I think we should make it permanent. I think you need to change your name.”

    Phoebe scared as she is, still reacts as the fighter she has trained to be. She clutches her stick with two hands in front of her and whispers to it. ”Sword” And then she lunges forward to stab the man. And even with just her little bit of power she somehow manages to stab staright through the cloaked figure in front of her. And it goes right through the cloak with no resistance till it hits the other side.

    There is that evli damn laugh again.

    ”Do you really want to fight, all right. Fight, these things mean nothing to me. But perhaps this will teach you a lesson.”

    The cloaked figure moves quickly, the front of the cloak unfolding and a stout walking stick swings out of the smoke within the cloak knocking Phobe's stick into position before striking. Phoebe could barely defend herself as the cloaked figure seemed to float across the ground walking stick constantly stricking at her from all different angles. And soon despite her attempts to further enchant her stick to be a Sword it was slowly, and then suddenly cracking apart with a loud snap. Phoebe watched as the stick she wielded for so long snapped in her hands. And then the walking stick proceeded to attack her, striking her brutally and unforgivingly. She ended up curled on the ground when they stopped.

    ”Now then, I think it is time for the renaming.”

    ”You think wrong. I named my Sword, and even though you broke it, I still had named it. Without your help.”

    Phoebe says as she uncurls and stands back up, knowing the attack was over, and sore as she was she wasn't finished with this.

    ”And if I was in control before, I see no reason not to be in control again. I don't think this potion gives you as much power as you think.”

    ”Foolish girl, do not doubt my power I will rename you here and now. I will mold you to be but a vessel for me. Now tell me girl, say it, tell me your Name.”

    ”Shouldn't you know it? I mean if you are in control, and you are my power, wouldn't my name be your name as well? Don't you know our name?”

    The dark figure is quite, stumped perhapes, but Phoebe continues on.

    ”So I think I will tell you my name. Because they might have given me power when they trapped you in me. But I learned how to use the power myself. So I name Myself.”

    And she speaks her name, which is long, should be unpronounceable and some times sounds more like waves, or wind then words, and on occasion reaches a pitch beyond human ears. And in her name she forms the powers prison, more completely then before.

    And for a second the figure seems shocked. And then the world flashes and instead of standing up she finds herself flat on her back with the witch looking over her.

    ”How was it?”

    How did the witch get up, didn't Phoebe tell her to sleep. And is that the sun rising, how much time passed. Wait Phoebe... that doesn't seem right. She gets up, it sure feels like she got beat like she remembered, and she glares at the woman sitting across from her chuckling at her pain.

    And it seems wrong and she knows what she needs to do. It is what the stars hinted at. It was time for change. And no longer Phoebe was good at changing. She already had a new name. She grabs the pointed hat off the woman's head and speaks clearly in a voice that commands and controls.

    ”You are no Witch. You are a swindler, who passes some potions as true magic and sell it to feed your fat self.”

    That might have been a bit mean but this woman almost set that thing free.

    ”You are a charaltan who creates potions she doesn't understand and then feeds them to people for amusment. And so, since I am A Witch. Maya the Witch. I like that. I take your hat from you and... your broom too. She says spotting the old thing sitting not to far from the fire. ”Call yourself witch no more, and improve yourself, for I am watching. Now begone. And bother me no more.

    She keeps a serious face as she makes the woman pack up and head out down the road. Time to find a place to rest and heal up. Then, she should probably get down to doing some witchy business.

    She looks down surprised to find herself leaning on the old broom, floating in midair supporiting her.

    ”Hey look, a broom.”
    Last edited by McBish; 2012-07-27 at 05:37 PM.
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    The stars glimmer
    and I can't help
    but wonder.
    Do they cry on those worlds,
    to?

  4. - Top - End - #154
    Troll in the Playground
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    Charlie's Last Message
    Linda Mann

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    Quote Originally Posted by Vael View Post
    [House - Inside]

    And so Charlie unwittingly gives Soldier Girl the piece of information she needed to know so her plan could be put into action.

    Finding the nearest object to do the job, and remaining in the van so she can't be seen by anyone in the house, she'll gag him with a piece of cloth, then retrieve a splinter from the wood and rope bonds he had around him. With practiced precision and efficiency, she dips it into a vial from her medical kit, and then will jam it completely into Charlie's arm, where it will dissolve with strange rapidity, until there is nothing left but the hole it entered in.

    "You were right, Charlie. It's time to go. Your friend bargained for your release, and so I'm letting you go together. But I've poisoned you- I won't say with what, but I find it quite unlikely that anyone else will be able to give you the antidote in time.
    "You have a few hours at most- enough time to get to Remnant, or to turn yourself over to me. Do so within that time, and I'll be able to administer the antidote. Otherwise, you'll die."


    This accomplished, Soldier Girl will relieve Charlie of his cellphone, then leave him bound and gagged in the back seat of the van. She shuts the door behind her, then head back inside to begin searching for the grandmother- presumably the remaining cult member has seen her take Charlie to the van, if the message was true, and has started out to join him.
    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post
    Charlie's Plot

    Linda edges near the van door, still holding Grandmother. She fishes the keys out of her pocket, leans in and starts the van with one hand. Then she eases into the seat. At the last minute, she shoves Grandmother hard, towards Latas, and tries to speed off.
    Quote Originally Posted by Vael View Post
    [House - Outside]

    Latas will allow them to leave, keeping the grandmother as her priority at the moment. She'd risked enough by poisoning Charlie, after all, and wasn't sure she should have even attempted that. That said, she managed to pull it off, so hopefully things would go well from here.

    "Don't move any more. I'm going to take care of this." Latas says as she tries to gently assist the grandmother in sitting or laying down. No more movement than that until she figures out where she is wounded. Latas gets out her medical kit and begins inspecting the injury, though she'll call out to the others inside the house while she does so.
    Linda drove away, in high speed, knowing they'd be tracked and pursued. She had to get Charlie to safety. What had they done to him?! She adjusted her mirror and saw him in the back, bound and gagged. She couldn't afford to stop yet, but once she got into the heavily urban part of the city. She called ahead, and when she pulled into a parking garage, there was another cult member ready to swap vehicles with her. Linda pulled her beloved Charlie out of the van, and the other driver jumped in and drove off, to try and draw off the pursuit.

    Jan was already behind the wheel of a rather plain looking hatchback - the kind that was common enough in the city to avoid notice. Linda untied Charlie and removed his gag.

    "You're injured?"

    Charlie pulled Linda into a deep kiss and looked into her eyes. "Nothing serious. But it's time to go."

    They climbed in the back seat, while Jan drove, according to Charlie's instructions. Elsewhere, Remnant was pursuing the van, and the little blue hatchback escaped notice at first. By the time they reached the cliffs over the harbour, the switch had been discovered. The satellite feed was studied, the backtrail of the van scoured. There were several places where the swap could have been made, and many vehicles to investigate.

    Charlie made it easy for them. He got out of the car and stood on the cliff's edge, looking to the sky. He wanted them to see him - if not live, at least in their recordings.

    And he also wanted his Family to see it. He ordered Jan to record on her phone as he made his last sermon to his followers.

    To most people, it was barely coherent hate-speech, blaming all of the world's ills on the mixing of races. His true believers heard it as an inspirational call for humans to take their rightful place as leaders and caretakers of the Nexus.

    "My children - I will always love you. I will always watch out for you and guide your hands."

    He threw himself backwards off the cliff, his arms outstretched in crucifix style. But before he reached the water, he vanished.

    Linda and Jan escaped before Remnant was able to track them. The recording of Charlie's last words and his miraculous escape from death circulated among his followers. There was treachery. One of their members who had been captured during the robbery expressed remorse for the extremes they had gone to. She claimed that she believed in human noblesse oblige and racial purity, but not in murder. She was given a lenient sentence in exchange for the information she was able to provide about the Family. They lost some of their safehouses and some of their members. But the Family grew.

    They had a new leader named Brian. He wasn't as charismatic as Charlie, but he was more focused. He was respected, rather than loved. He organized the tenement fire, disgusted by the mixing of races - so many in one building. The death of Remnant's fire chief was hailed as a victory.

    Linda felt Charlie's presence in her heart, but she ached for him. When Brian came up with his plan to assassinate Magtok during his live broadcast, she volunteered at once.

    Maybe she could be a martyr for Charlie.

    Maybe she could join him.




    Charlie's death happened months ago in Nexus chronology (and this story should have been written then, but... spoons....) Anyone keeping up with current events may have heard of it. Anyone who wants to play a cult member is welcome to do so. If they are genuine human supremacists, membership can be handwaved. If they are trying to infiltrate, then gaining the trust of the members will need to be roleplayed.

    If Charlie's philosophy, insanity, and the rabid devotion of his followers seem familiar, it's because he's based on a real life Charlie, and a rather famous one at that.
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  5. - Top - End - #155
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    I'm taking Happyturtle's advice. Its hard to make plots in FFRP work when interacting so it takes too long to put it out or ends up being done off-screen. I don't like doing things off-screen, it feels like waving off the character. So here I go.

    Part 1: Everything Began When the World Ended
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    Sweat pours from Grantz brow as he punches the heavy bag. He has been punching non-stop for an hour now. A voice from the entrance of the room wakes him from the trance of punching.

    "Grantz, hurry and wash up I need to lock up the stadium."


    The man leaves immediately. Grantz collects his possessions and head for the bath house. In the bath house he strips the clothes he trained in revealing a strong body with properly toned muscles. He dips himself in the large pool of hot, steaming water. His height forces him to move deeper into the pool. Only near the center can he relax where the water is over nine feet deep. After thoroughly cleaning himself he dries and clothes himself then heads on home.

    His home is a simple hovel made by carving into stone and putting wood in the hole for a door. Inside lies a small but somewhat comfortable bed, a burnt out cook-fire with a makeshift stove on it, a small wooden table with a chair to match. On the table are Grantz most prized possessions, a quill next to three bottles of ink, five scrolls and a few pages of paper. He lays on his bed and closes his deep-black eyes. Rubbing his hand through his raven-black hair he starts to reminisce about the past.

    Grantz was an Orphan in this city. Having nothing on him he worked as a servant on the stadium to earn his supper. One day one of the students who had been practicing pankration decided to test his skill on Grantz. No one stopped the student, after all who cares about an orphan servant boy? If the orphan boy dies then someone will just throw him out for the dogs to eat. The student threw a punch at Grantz and something unexpected happened, the punch was countered! Amazing! A 16 year old who was larger and taught how to fight was knocked out by a boy of 10, with one punch no less!

    After the incident the master of the student took Grantz on as a pupil. Grantz learned well and fast in the art of pankration, though he did prefer the boxing part over the wrestling part. He was also taught reading, writing and numbers. He was not a genius but he was apt and eager so he continued to be taught. Still the other students couldn't stand him, how dare a mere servant mix in with the highborn? So the other students decided to teach him his place. First they fought him one on one but each were knocked out by a few punches. Next they took him in groups but that failed as well. Thus no one dared mess with him ever again.

    Six years have passed since then and Grantz grew harder, better, faster and stronger. The days passed on normally, training and studying. Some of the other students learned to accept him and those who didn't respected him albeit grudgingly. Then one day Grantz was given a letter. And thus the end begins.

    Grantz opens the letter and reads it.

    "Sir Grantz,

    I give you this letter as an invitation to a tournament. We have invited strong people from across entire
    world to attend. We hope that you participate as well as we hoe to see your skill as the greatest pankration or rather boxer in the City of Pugnus.
    Sincerely,
    Natas
    "

    On the back of the letter was drawn a map of the way to the tournament, it was a weeks journey on horse. After reading the letter something triggered inside his head. A sudden compulsion to attend the tournament and win it nagged at his thoughts. He could not ignore the compulsion. In the dead of the night he took all of his belongings, stole food from a house in the market area and stole a horse. The compulsion drove him to ride the horse at a deadly pace for an entire day. He reached his destination but the the horse was dead.

    In front of Grantz was the place where his compulsion forced him to go. It looked the same as the stadium in his town, only ten times as large. The gate opens for him and he enters. The moment he is inside the door close behind him and his mind is free once more. The compulsion has ended.

    His head ached and he was confused. He procceeds to rub his temples and blink.

    "Where? How.... did I get here? Ugh..."

    Grantz walks aimlessly trying to gather his thoughts.

    "There.... was a letter.... It was an invitation. something about a tournament?"

    On and on he walked without really knowing where he was going.

    "A horse..... I think I stole it.... but its dead. Why would i steal a dead horse?"

    All the memories of the past few days feel like a jumble. He felt scatterbrained . Thinking seems to be useless now.

    "A punching bag? ugh..."

    Without noticing he reached the top of the stadium where spectators would watch the combatants duke it out in the ring. He looks around and notices other people around him. They look as confused as he felt. Suddenly without warning an earthquake rocks the ground. The sky and the air itself crack into pieces. A white light forms on the sky consuming everything in sight. As Grantz falls to his knees he hears a cold, merciless voice.

    "Hello little lab rats, welcome to the birth of a new world. You are quite lucky! ha ha ha ha ha!"

    The light consumes all and everything fades away.



    Part 2: Project Daemn Militis(Partway done)
    Spoiler
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    Inside a room lies many containers that are lined from wall to wall. One such container holds Grantz inside it. Around him are others as well, a dark-skinned creature labelled Serph, A handsome youth with slanted eyes labelled Element, a small child labelled Red and many many more.

    At the center of all these is a hooded-being with a humanoid shape. With a pen in hand he writes on a notebook. Hours pass and the being continues to write without rest engrossed in his work.

    "Demens. Demens. Demens!"
    Another hooded being shouts.

    "Ah.... Natas, what brings you here? Did we not agree that I was to be left undisturbed? You do want me to finish Project Daemn Militis correct?"Demens replies in an arrogant tone.

    Natas' eye twitches at the response but he keeps himself in control.
    "It has already been ten months! Yet you stay in this room scribbling in that blighted noteboook! You promised results but you have not even touched the specimens, merely looked at them."

    "Now now you know that's not true. I examined all the data on the specimens. A genius must not, can not..... be rushed. And you said I have a year to produce results. Return when the given time is over, then you will see the fruits of my labor!"

    Natas listens to Demens word, annoyed in Demen's manner of speaking. Prolonging words unnecessarily and stopping in some parts for no reason.

    "Fine, you have two months Demens."
    Natas disappears to leave Demens to his work.


    Last edited by Asha'man; 2012-07-27 at 06:22 AM.
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  6. - Top - End - #156
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    Vesa Landers - Revenant in the Making, Pt. 1
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    The customer came in, feeling the woman's eyes on him. Could she tell he'd lied about being 18? Maybe the woman at the front had been able to tell and that's why she sent him to this creepy girl, all pale and stoic... but, y'know, she was good-looking.
    "S-so, uh..." He tried to think of something to say, then stopped as she immediately began slipping out of her clothes to lay on the bed.

    "Are you ready, or will you need help?" She blinked at him; was she making fun of him? He wasn't sure, but fumbled at his jeans and answered.

    "I-I'm fine... uh..." She just sort of lay there and she'd opened the foil packed for him already, so...
    ---
    Alia. Jenna. Chloe.
    She remembered the last time she saw them... she thought so, at least.
    The last time she remembered seeing them was at the base... but how she got here...
    Not sure.
    Not sure at all.
    And when came down to it, she missed them. They were nothing if not all she'd had.
    They'd been annoying and hard to deal with, but they always had her back and she always had theirs. They weren't family, but they were about as close as anything would ever get.
    But for the past 2 weeks, she had been here, in this city of hell-knows-where, maybe not even on Earth.
    All she knew was that she needed to not starve, and that working in this brothel helped that happen. It wasn't the best work, but she didn't have to actually do all that much...
    ---
    The girl wasn't saying anything, so the customer decided it'd be better to get dressed and leave. He was done.

    As the scruffy teen made his exit, the pale girl sat up, pulled out a sketchbook and pencil, and started to draw.

    Decided to start a thing to show how Vesa got to where she is now.
    There's out-of-Nexus backstory that I'll have to get into, and I'll have to work certain elements out with Murkus, but for a start (written distractedly in a hotel) this'll do.
    Last edited by Beans; 2012-07-27 at 02:27 PM.
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  7. - Top - End - #157
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    Please note that all of these need approval by Beans before they become canon, as Nycca is their character. Also, these are written from her point of view, so not everything is necessarily accurate.

    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 1: Entrance (Talina, Nycca)


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    I've done what I can, for now. Remnant has been informed that there's a slave-brothel in the Red Zone. Or rather that there's one at a specific place, currently in operation; I'm sure they knew that there were probably dozens, given the size of the district, but sending enough people out to find them is impossible, even with magic, psionics and whatever crazy tech they've got.

    Now it's just a matter of doing what I can to help the girls there while I wait, whether with potions when they get sick or just giving them a shoulder to cry on. Nothing else I can do, without getting myself arrested, and probably letting the ones running the place get away in the process. So why do I feel like crap for not doing more?


    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 2: Cleansing Flames (Talina, Nycca)


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    It's been two weeks, and Remnant has done nothing. Apparently, it was easier for them to 'misfile' my report than actually do something about it. Bloody bastards.

    But it doesn't matter now, I suppose. The place is burning merrily as I write this, despite the drizzle. Turns out they weren't expecting the 'healer-witch' who came in and tended to the girls to be able to sling combat spells for some reason. Guess they didn't realize that when most of what you do is sympathetic magic, anyone clever and with power can figure out all sorts of nasty things...

    Anyway, everyone is out now. Finding work for them, and a place to stay in the meantime, is going to be hard, but they seem to be pretty resilient, so at least they should be mostly okay once I have. Not that they're fine, of course, but they will recover, with time and help.

    Or most of them will, anyway. I'm worried about one in particular; a batgirl of some kind. From what one of the others could tell me - she wouldn't, or couldn't, speak, and I didn't push her - her name is Nycca, and she just... Stopped eating soon after she was captured. Poor girl looks like she was in one of the Veilking's prison camps back in the Starsong War. But all I can do is my best, and pray to Chaedarcha she recovers, and worrying about her here isn't going to help, even if it does make me feel better.


    I'll try to write review later, I suppose. I'm not all that good at them, and I've lost track of those stories I was following at some point...
    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2012-07-26 at 09:54 PM.

  8. - Top - End - #158
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    Quote Originally Posted by C'nor View Post
    Please note that all of these need approval by Beans before they become canon, as Nycca is their character. Also, these are written from her point of view, so not everything is necessarily accurate.

    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 1: Entrance (Talina, Nycca)


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    I've done what I can, for now. Remnant has been informed that there's a slave-brothel in the Red Zone. Or rather that there's one at a specific place, currently in operation; I'm sure they knew that there were probably dozens, given the size of the district, but sending enough people out to find them is impossible, even with magic, psionics and whatever crazy tech they've got.

    Now it's just a matter of doing what I can to help the girls there while I wait, whether with potions when they get sick or just giving them a shoulder to cry on. Nothing else I can do, without getting myself arrested, and probably letting the ones running the place get away in the process. So why do I feel like crap for not doing more?


    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 2: Cleansing Flames (Talina, Nycca)


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    It's been two weeks, and Remnant has done nothing. Apparently, it was easier for them to 'misfile' my report than actually do something about it. Bloody bastards.

    But it doesn't matter now, I suppose. The place is burning merrily as I write this, despite the drizzle. Turns out they weren't expecting the 'healer-witch' who came in and tended to the girls to be able to sling combat spells for some reason. Guess they didn't realize that when most of what you do is sympathetic magic, anyone clever and with power can figure out all sorts of nasty things...

    Anyway, everyone is out now. Finding work for them, and a place to stay in the meantime, is going to be hard, but they seem to be pretty resilient, so at least they should be mostly okay once I have. Not that they're fine, of course, but they will recover, with time and help.

    Or most of them will, anyway. I'm worried about one in particular; a batgirl of some kind. From what one of the others could tell me - she wouldn't, or couldn't, speak, and I didn't push her - her name is Nycca, and she just... Stopped eating soon after she was captured. Poor girl looks like she was in one of the Veilking's prison camps back in the Starsong War. But all I can do is my best, and pray to Chaedarcha she recovers, and worrying about her here isn't going to help, even if it does make me feel better.


    I'll try to write review later, I suppose. I'm not all that good at them, and I've lost track of those stories I was following at some point...
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  9. - Top - End - #159
    Troll in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Indexing caught up.

    Note to authors: More and more, authors are only putting a title header, without a character or topic. Until now, I've been looking through the story to find the main character, but that makes indexing very slow. It's not always obvious to me which character is the main one, or if the author would rather not have one chosen.

    So from now on, entries with no Character/Topic in the heading will have that section left blank in the index, like so:

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    {table=head]Character/Topic|Story Title|Author
    A. Aaron Aaronson|The Story of My Life|Player1
    The Centaur Revolution|Part 1: The Stomp Act|Player 2
    -|Great Title without a Topic|Player 3
    -|Spiffy Story, also without a topic|Player 4
    [/table]


    Anyway, as always, authors please check your entries to make sure it's indexed the way you want it to, and that the link goes to the right story.

    Cheers!
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  10. - Top - End - #160
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    The Story of Kirlia: Prelude
    Character: Kirlia
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    [The following is from a salvaged log/journal from the Saiyan known as Kirlia]
    -Birth Logs-
    Name: Kirlia Carratz
    Gender: Female
    Weight: 12 Pounds
    Power Level: 100-file is corrupted-
    -file is corrupted-
    -file is corrupted-
    -file is corrupted-
    -file is corrupted-
    -File was unsalvageable until the first date in the journal-
    Month: 1 Day: 1 Year: 8
    Well, erm...hi journal? My mom said that now that I was old enough, I had to keep a journal of my life in case I became famous enough to become a hero of -file is corrupt-
    Anyways, not much has happened today. Well, except for Nappa coming over to play with me! He's so pudgy, I doubt he'll ever be powerful...he'll probably be put in a more servant like role!
    That's all for now, journal. My mom's calling for me. Apparently a guy called Friez-file is corrupted-

    Month: 1 Day: 2 Year: 8
    Well...it seems I'm being sent off to go conquer my first planet. Apparently Nappa's dad is friend's with-file is corrupted-and put in a good word for me after seeing me beat Nappa so many times!
    I'm being sent to Earth, which I've been told is full of weaklings. Though this will be an extremely easy planet to conquer, mom says it'll give me experience! Apparently it'll take two years to get there though...
    -File is Corrupted-

    Month: 6 Day: 3 Year: 10
    I've arrived at Earth! Man, hypersleep is hard to shake off. It feels like I've been sleeping forever!
    Anyways, I've meet this nice seeming old man, who's letting me stay in his dojo for the time being.
    Hahaha! That fool! Little does he know that he's letting the enemy of his entire world stay with him!
    I think I'll save him for last, so I can enjoy the look on his face when he sees me kill his entire ra-file is corrupted-

    [The rest of the files were unsalvageable, however it seems that the journal only had entries for the next month]
    ((This is only a...prelude I think it's called? Anyways, a proper chapter 1 will come next!))
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  11. - Top - End - #161
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    Alright, comments time.

    @ Magtok: I continue not to be a fan of this sort of defined and physical afterlife, but I do like what you're doing with it. Magtok's suspiciously specific denial of being a dirty coward is amusing, as always. I really am looking forward to seeing Pat's hordes attack Hell.

    @ Earl: This is a very nice combat scene. Those are not easy to write, so good job with that. However, I think the effect might be better if you wrote more at a time.

    @ Rotting Baron: The format is as interesting as it was before. I'm not too familiar with the character of the Operative, but his story is a good one. Could use some more information about the setting though, like I said. But dry exposition is never very fun to read, so perhaps that is for the best.

    @ Happy: It was an especially interesting read for me, since my character had had a hand in Charlie's death. Anyway, his "family" is so crazy and interesting as bad guys. Actual racial supremacism that goes beyond blathering on the Wall is rare in the Nexus.
    Last edited by Morty; 2012-07-30 at 06:37 AM.
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  12. - Top - End - #162
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    The Story of Kirlia: Part 1
    Character: Kirlia
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    The date? It's the 10th year of my life, the 6th month, and the 3rd day.*
    Though the inhabitants of this planet call it February 3rd, 2007...the air here is cold, the ground frozen. The only liquid I've seen had to be hacked out of the solid black ice of a pond and boiled and purified many times before it was fit to be called water. They say this is just a season of their planet, and I hope they're right. I don't think I'll be able to take this more than a month!
    I was greeted by an old man today, who dragged me inside his warm dojo after he found me passed out and dying from the freezing cold. Thanks to him, I'm still alive. I think I'll kill him last. Maybe even just make him my slave...

    Kirlia, age 16 to the day woke up from her dream, sweating like crazy. She had it ever night of her birthday for the last 6 or so years...ever since gramps had saved her from dying outside.
    As she got up she saw that it was 4, still an hour before she needed to get up anyways to prepare for morning meditation.
    She sighed and, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go back to bed, stood up and walked to the door. Walking out of it she went straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She turned the water on in the shower, knowing it'd be a good 5 minutes until it warmed up. Then, she went to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush before squirting a gob of mint toothpaste on it. Pressing it against her teeth she began to brush vigorously, knowing that if gramps caught even a whiff of morning breath, he'd make her do it again. "If the student can't do even the simplest things right, then how will she ever become a master of anything?" he always said...
    She spit out the foam from her mouth and swished water from the sink around in her mouth before spitting that out too. Checking her teeth in the mirror and her breath against her palm quickly, she was satisfied and shed her clothing before hoping in the shower, right as the water hits the perfect temperature. "Take only what you need." gramps would always say...
    After a quick shampooing of her hair and a rinse of her body after soaping it off, she stepped out of the shower and dried off on the towel labeled: Kirlia.
    Wrapping the towel around her, she walked back to her room and shut the door. Then proceeded to put on her undergarments, then her shirt, and then her gi.*
    Looking at the clock she saw it was 5:05.
    Cursing under her breath she ran downstairs and out of the house, booking it to the dojo.
    When she opened the door, she was greeted by a fist flying towards her face. She dodged it deftly and dodge*to the left, expecting a right hook but going right into a unsuspected left hook.
    "Now now, Kirlia, fortune may favor the bold, but haste makes waste..." gramps said.
    She looked up and saw that it was another one of gramp's students who had thrown the punches, with gramps looking on from behind.
    "You can't expect everyone to be like me in a fight, so you must always access the situation instead of assuming."
    Kirlia nodded.
    "Yes, gramps..."
    And then walked inside the dojo, shame evident on her face.
    Today was going to be a looooong day...
    ((Another part to come tomorrow, hopefully.))
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  13. - Top - End - #163
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    A story about my first PC, Justin Mine.

    New Location Discovered: Laneside Bowling

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    Justin honestly couldn't believe he thought he was in Alabama for so long. It was surprising he hadn't realized it wasn't Earth after his first trip to Trog's. Maybe he's not as smart as he thought he was if it takes a cartoon car chase to make him believe this isn't Kansas anymore.

    Inside was unexpectedly fun to live in, and certainly better than Atlanta. Food was plentiful and his cash, while more useful as toilet paper in the wasteland, had actual value, maybe even moreso than caps, which he had to argue with vendors to use. Best of all, everyone carried around gold coins for some reason! Gold coins were small, valuable, easy to swipe, and they were like pennies here. He didn't even need to feel bad for stealing them.

    The only thing he was missing was a regular place to sleep. As rich as he had accidentally become, he didn't have have enough for his own house. He could always just stay at Trog's, but that place was too crazy for his liking. Staying on the street was an option, he supposed, but he'd probably just give up and stay at Trog's if it was available, and it was always available.

    Justin decided to drop the issue for the day. He could worry about it tonight. For now, he wanted to explore this stupidly huge Escher print of a city.

    He had been looking around a section of the city that was probably the most like Atlanta. As similar as the cityscape looked like superficially, it was a completely different feeling. The emptiness of the crumbling downtown Atlanta made him feel anxious, scared of what would come out of each building, brandishing weapons or claws or whatever else it wanted to use to kill him. Inside was more comforting to him. People walked about, not really afraid that at any minute, a squad of mohawked idiots could come out screaming and shoot up the place.

    That afternoon had been spent lollygagging in the park until that evening. He would have just gone to Trog's but the urge to explore and see what this place was like at night was incredibly alluring. At night, everything changes. The feeling of safety in the daytime had left, and the familiar anxiousness returned. He was used to it though, and it felt exciting to be so nervous after spending so long feeling safe.

    As he explored well into the night, sticking to walls, avoiding the light, and sneaking about with a kind of silly glee of a child playing hide and seek, his pip-boy sounded a notice. This was strange, as it was the first time it had done so since he had arrived in the city. Reading the notice, he learned that he had discovered Laneside Bowling. Looking up toward the building he had been sneaking against, he saw the busted old sign that had lost several of its letters from what had probably been years of neglect.

    Never being able to resist some newly discovered building was a curse of Justin's. Back with his old team, one of the few ways he was allowed to induldge in his kleptomaniacal habit was scavenging, so he took every chance he could. All of the front windows and doors were boarded up, so he decided to sneak around the back. The back door had been locked shut, but that had never been something to stop him before. It wasn't an instant before he heard that ever so satisfying click of a perfectly picked lock.

    Justin entered the pitch black bowling alley and was greeted by the smell of dust, metal, and grease. He realized that this must be where the machinery that sets up the pins was. He closed the door behind him and listened very closely for sounds. He was looking for any signs that he might not be alone in the building: footsteps, murmurs, or the tell-tale hiss of a feral ghoul. Unable to hear anything, he decided it was safe to turn on his pip-boy light. He was right, this had been the pin setting machinery. He could see the lanes from where he was standing.

    With his wrist mounted lamp he was able to find his way to an unlocked door that lead to the the far left of the main room, where he could begin searching.

    The snack bar had been cleaned out of most of its contents except for several bags of chips and candy under the counter and a soda machine that must have been too much of a hassle to take apart. He pressed the button for Coke, but was unsurprised when nothing came out. Of course it wouldn't work, the city probably shut the power off years ago. Pocketing the candy and chips, he moved on.

    The old arcade area was in a similar state. It was mostly empty space except for an old crane machine sitting in the corner still full of ugly unofficial merchandise of copyrighted characters.

    Finding the men's room rather suddenly reminded him that he hasn't gone all day. After finishing, he pulled the plunger out of habit and was quite surprised at how loud the flush had been, his ears having grown used to the silence. Then he was surprised that it even flushed at all. He turned on the sink faucet to make sure, and although it sputtered at first, water ran just fine. That didn't make sense. Water should have been turned off years ago, but if it's still running, then maybe the power still worked!

    Justin rocketed out of the bath room, after washing his hands, because he was raised better than that, and back into the machine room. It was a short search before he found the switch box. When he flipped the master switch, he heard the sound of a few machines whirring and lights flickering on. As he began to turn on more he heard even more machines turn on, coming to life again with the power restored. He could even see the the lights in the main room from the lanes.

    Justin left the pin machines behind to see just what he had accomplished. The room looked completely different than earlier. In the light, he found a hall off to the side he might have missed earlier. There was a storage closet, a janitor's closet, and a manager's office he would have to look over thoroughly

    This was probably the best find he had ever come across. Running water, working electricity. . . Secluded. . . His. This building is boarded up and abandoned. For whatever reason, the city forgot to turn off the water and power, and he could use it however he wanted. It would need cleaning, and maybe a mattress, and a way better lock than that dinky little thing, but those were cheap fixes. His head was buzzing with so many ideas on how to improve this place, but Justin decided to drop the issue for the night. He could worry about it in the morning. For now, he wanted to enjoy his new dustbin of a home.


    Reviews:

    Elaine/Billie: Split personalities have always been sort of fascinating to me. In a psychology class I took in college, I watched a video of a man with several. Having someone else in your head is scary, and making war or communicating with someone you can never actually meet, is really interesting. Your depiction of a transsexual is also interesting, as I had recently seen a video about trans issues when I first read your story.

    Bloodplunder: Went back to read the others so I could understand it. Part 3 is a decently written fight scene.

    Kirilia: The diary bits in the prelude were good, but I didn't care for part one of the actual story though.

    Goblins: Oh Hutznim. Your smugness is so wonderful. Keep up the good work.
    Last edited by OrchestraHc; 2012-07-31 at 10:50 PM.

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  14. - Top - End - #164
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    Lady Serpentine's Avatar

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    Again, as this is about one of my characters but also one of Beans' people, they need to check it before it becomes canon, and as it's written from the point of view of a character, things aren't always objective.

    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 3: That Sleep of Death...

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    Nycca’s started writing a journal now. She doesn’t like to talk, so I suggested she might find it worked better for her, and judging by the fact that she's using the one I gave her, it seems like it does. Of course, spending her time hidden off upstairs writing has made her even more withdrawn. Sometimes it feels like whatever I do to try to help her, she turns it around somehow so that the consequences leave her worse off than she was before... Not that I think she's doing it because she has something against me or anything like that, but it does get frustrating.

    And she's still shivering all the time, and not putting on any weight. I don't know why. She's been getting food, and the supplements and potions I've been giving her should have helped with the malnutrition by now.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Apparently, Nycca doesn't want to keep living; she's been giving her food to Lenia, and putting the blankets we give her back as soon as we aren't looking. The same with everything else.

    I'm not angry with her, more... Sad, and frustrated that I can't seem to help her. I did sit with her for a while, though, which she seems to like. I don't know if she could be said to enjoy it, exactly, but she seems like she appreciates it, and it does seem to make her feel better for a bit.

    She's also hooked up to an IV now, so that she'll at least be getting some sort of nutrition, and I can make sure that the potions I make are actually used. She doesn't like it, but what am I supposed to do? Let her starve herself? If she asked me for poison, I don't know what my answer would be at this point, but I won't let her die like that.

    Her nightmares are still bad too, but Sherry's going to be sleeping next to her, and I'm working on figuring out the sympathies to help. I'd do the same thing Sherry is while I am - I don't think Nycca would mind - but there are just so many other things I have to do... Most nights I've ended up falling asleep over my work, or laying down on the couch to wait for my head to clear because I can't see straight, and then finding out in the morning that the minute or two it was supposed to be ended up with my passing out for a few hours.



    Anyway, reviews of the things I've actually read:

    Vesa:

    It was interesting. I like being able to see Vesa from a different perspective, and getting a look at how she sees the world. I look forward to seeing more of how she got to Elexxion.

    Kirlia: I have to agree with Orchestra on this one. The diary bits were interesting, but there was something off about the story itself.

    NLD:

    There were some typos that threw me, but overall, it was good. It certainly had an atmosphere very reminiscent of Fallout, which seems to have been the intent, given where Justin comes from.
    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2012-08-02 at 01:44 PM.

  15. - Top - End - #165
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    Beans's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by C'nor View Post
    Again, as this is about one of my characters but also one of Beans' people, they need to check it before it becomes canon, and as it's written from the point of view of a character, things aren't always objective.

    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 3: That Sleep of Death...

    Spoiler
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    Nycca’s started writing a journal now. She doesn’t like to talk, so I suggested she might find it worked better for her, and judging by the fact that she's using the one I gave her, it seems like it does. Of course, spending her time hidden off upstairs writing has made her even more withdrawn. Sometimes it feels like whatever I do to try to help her, she turns it around somehow so that the consequences leave her worse off than she was before... Not that I think she's doing it because she has something against me or anything like that, but it does get frustrating.

    And she's still shivering all the time, and not putting on any weight. I don't know why. She's been getting food, and the supplements and potions I've bee giving her should have helped with the malnutrition by now.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Apparently, Nycca doesn't want to keep living; she's been giving her food to Lenia, and putting the blankets we give her back as soon as we aren't looking. The same with everything else.

    I'm not angry with her, more... Sad, and frustrated that I can't seem to help her. I did sit with her for a while, though, which she seems to like. I don't know if she could be said to enjoy it, exactly, but she seems like she appreciates it, and it does seem to make her feel better for a bit.

    She's also hooked up to an IV now, so that she'll at least be getting some sort of nutrition, and I can make sure that the potions I make are actually used. She doesn't like it, but what am I supposed to do? Let her starve herself? If she asked me for poison, I don't know what my answer would be at this point, but I won't let her die like that.

    Her nightmares are still bad too, but Sherry's going to be sleeping next to her, and I'm working on figuring out the sympathies to help. I'd do the same thing Sherry is while I am - I don't think Nycca would mind - but there are just so many other things I have to do... Most nights I've ended up falling asleep over my work, or laying down on the couch to wait for my head to clear because I can't see straight, and then finding out in the morning that the minute or two it was supposed to be ended up with my passing out for a few hours.

    Companion story time! This was written from Nycca's perspective. Certain elements, like the story and chapter titles, are references to the music I feel fits the tone of the story, and listening to it may augment the experience.
    Character: Nycca

    Dreams and Nightmares Nycca Eat Nothing


    Spoiler
    Show
    Entry I - pale grey and dripping saline
    Talina said I should start writing in a journal.
    Writing is easier than talking.
    Talking lets everyone know your voice is thin and cracked.
    Talking makes everyone start fussing over you when you just want to be left alone.
    It's always well-intentioned and it makes sense to them. "Nycca, won't you have some applesauce?" "Nycca, you're shivering, do you need a blanket?"
    I don't want to eat and I don't care if I shiver or not. If they give me food I'll sneak it to Lenia---she's as skinny as I am and her metabolism is probably higher.
    If they give me a blanket I'll wait until nobody's looking and put it back in the linen closet or whatever.
    And they'll just keep giving me nice things I don't need or want because they don't understand what I've been trying to tell them:
    I'm done. I'm exhausted with life. I don't feel any need to keep going, especially now that the other girls are safe. Sherry's got her smile back and Marina's shoulder is healing and that's great and I'm happy for them but I don't want to stick around here. Here there's aches and tiredness and nightmares.
    There's nothing I want in this world.

    ---

    Entry II - crawl space girl
    Okay, maybe I should have considered that Talina and the others might read what I wrote before I went and spilled my guts to the paper, because here I am hooked up to an IV of protein and calcium and whatever most of the time.
    Talina admittedly has been pretty cool about this whole thing apart from forcing an IV on me; she wasn't angry or offended, she just sat with me a while and asked me if I'd like to come downstairs to spend some time with her and the other girls.
    Of course, I didn't, but it was nice of her to ask.
    Sherry's decided to sleep next to me until these nightmares stop being such a problem, which is exactly the kind of sweet thing Sherry would do. I told her it was fine and she shouldn't trouble herself, but it's not like that's ever stopped her before.


    Le Reviews!
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    Kirlia: Good overall, but there's something about it that feels a little bit rote and old-horse (not to the level of being a dead horse for the beating, however); note, however, that doesn't mean it can't be good.

    NLD: I liked this one, especially with him having discovered an empty bowling alley to live in. Bowling alleys are awesome, and the way Justin thinks within the Nexus environment is natural.
    Last edited by Beans; 2012-07-31 at 04:56 PM.
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  16. - Top - End - #166
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Typos? If anybody has time to pick them for me I'd be very grateful. Typos are a problem given I write with and itouch

    Pirate Justin avatar by myself. Emmi avatar by Gulaghar, Much Thanks!

    My Characters

  17. - Top - End - #167
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Here you go. Blue is where something should be added, yellow is something that probably needs to be changed:

    Quote Originally Posted by OrchestraHC
    ...It was surprising he hadn't realized it wasn't Earth after his first trip to trog's. Maybe he's not as smart as he thought he was of it takes a cartoon car chase to make him believe this isn't Kansas anymore.

    Inside was unexpectedly fun to live in, and certainly better than Atlanta. Food was plentiful and his cash, while more useful as toilet paper in the wasteland, had actual value, maybe even moreso than caps, which he had to argue with vendors to use. Best of all, everyone carried around gold coins for some reason! Gold coins were mall, valuable, easy to swipe, and they were like pennies here...

    ...People walked about, not really afraid that at any minute, a squad of mohawked idiots are going to come screaming and shoot up the place...

    ...As he explored for so well into the night, sticking to walls, avoiding the light, and sneaking about with a kind of silly glee of a child playing hide and seek, his pip-boy sounded a notice. This was strange as it was the first time it had done so since he had arrived in the city. Reading the notice, he learned that he had discovered Laneside Bowling. Looking up toward the building he had been sneaking against, he saw the busted old sign that had lost several of it's letters from what had probably been years of neglect...

    ...Justin entered the pitch black bowling alley and was greeted to the smell of dust, metal, and grease. He realized that this must be where the machinery that sets up the pins was. He closed the door behind him and listened very closely for sounds. He was looking for any signs that he might not be alone in the building: footsteps, murmers, or the tell-tale hiss of a feral ghoul. Unable to hear anything, he decided it was safe to turn on his pip-boy light. He was right, this had been the pin setting machinery. He could see the lanes from where he was standing.

    With his wrist mounted lamp he was able to find his way to an unlocked door that lead to the the far left of the main room, where he cold begin searching.

    The snack bar had been cleaned out of most of it's contents except for several bags of chips and candy under the counter and a sodamachine that must have been too much of a hassle to take apart. He pressed the button for Coke, but was unsurprised when nothing came out. Of course it [or something of the sort] wouldn't work, the city probably shut the power off years ago. Pocketing the candy and chips, he moved on...

    ...It would need cleaning, and maybe a matress, and a way better lock than that dinky little thing, but those are cheap fixes. His head was buzzing with so many ideas on how to improve this place, but Justin decided to drop the issue for the night. He could worry about it in the morning. For now, he wanted to enjoy his new dustbin of a home.
    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2012-07-31 at 05:17 PM.

  18. - Top - End - #168
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    So mayhap I should do more recovered logs?

    Orchestra, C'nor, and Beans: Loved them *Q*
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  19. - Top - End - #169
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mindfreak View Post
    So mayhap I should do more recovered logs?

    Orchestra, C'nor, and Beans: Loved them *Q*
    It can't hurt to try.

    And thanks! I'm glad you liked my stuff.

  20. - Top - End - #170
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    So, in following through with my effort in reviewing...some reviews!

    Chelonie - Liking what you've got. Moves a little fast for my taste, but that's fine. Probably just cause you don't have all the fine details worked out. Raven's parts throughout it is interesting.

    Shrike and Dani - Liking them as kids, seeing what made them who they are. Just kind of wishing for more. Kind of short. At least, in my opinion.

    Sophie - Very much liking this, and very much looking forward to more. I am wondering what happens next.

    Mrs. Bloodplunder - Huh. Always interesting to read about the traditions of other cultures. Good job.

    Quotes and goodies:
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    You know what the chain of command is? It's the chain I go get and beat you with 'til ya understand who's in ruttin' command here! - Jayne Cobb

    I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you. - Malcolm Reynolds

    Because I'm allergic to things I don't wanna do. *coughcough* - Caboose
    Photos from the 2014 Woodward Dream Cruise.

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  21. - Top - End - #171
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    Devixer's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Trying desperately to get caught up with stories:

    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Wars and Weddings (Part 3)
    Mrs. Bloodplunder
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    *snip*
    I feel that this is a little short. It's well-written, though. I'm eager to see more from you.

    Quote Originally Posted by Lord Magtok View Post
    Post-Death MagJournal Entry 9 – Wherein Entirely Predictable Plot Twists Happen

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    *snip*
    Much as I like this story, I feel that it's beginning to drag just a little. Probably just me, though.

    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    Rise of the Prophet, Part 4
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    *snip*
    There's not much I can say that hasn't already been said. This was great, I can hardly wait for the final part.

    Quote Originally Posted by Mindfreak View Post
    The Story of Kirlia: Prelude
    Character: Kirlia
    Spoiler
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    *snip*
    I don't like Dragonball, so that probably colored my thoughts on this story a little. I do think it's well-written, and the dialogue of the next part is good; it's just not for me.

    Quote Originally Posted by OrchestraHc View Post
    New Location Discovered: Laneside Bowling

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    *snip*
    I'm probably not unbiased with this story either; Fallout's one of my favorite game series. That said, I feel that this managed to elicit the feel and atmosphere of a Fallout game rather well. It's pretty good.

  22. - Top - End - #172
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Lots of people are suggesting I write more at a time. I'm not sure how feasible that is for me, as I'm writing it for the first time when I post, and it always seems to be more before I press the 'submit reply' button than afterwards, and the 'preview post' doesn't help much because it, too, is a different scale to the actual posts. I'm glad people enjoyed reading the fight scene. I shall, however, try my hardest to write more, but don't expect the next part any time soon; I'm still working on it. Sort of.

    Dreams and Nightmares: I'm enjoying this, very much. Along with Nycca Eat Nothing. I hope to see more .

    New Location Discovered: Again, very good story; completely unfamiliar with Fallout of any variety, so I don't have that to colour my perceptions. I think C'nor's got all the typos and other mistakes.

    Grantz Stuff: Not familiar with the character, but I am interested as to where it's going. Please continue.

    Finding the Broom: I enjoyed this, too. Can't think of any criticism, however.

    Rise of the Prophet: As always, fantastic. I eagerly look forward to the next part, but I don't want to reach the end of it.

    The Story of Kirlia: Perhaps some more formatting would be useful? It's up to you, though, and I did enjoy the story, though I did prefer the prologue; it's an unusual format. Not familiar with Dragonball, though, so if it's got anything to do with that I'm missing that connection.

    Charlie's Last Message: I really enjoy reading your work, Happy, and this was no exception.
    Terrowin Avatar by HappyTurtle. Much thanks!

  23. - Top - End - #173
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post

    Rise of the Prophet: As always, fantastic. I eagerly look forward to the next part, but I don't want to reach the end of it.
    That won't be the end of the worldbuilding from that setting. It'll be followed by more stories that will detail the fall of the Empire and its aftermath. They will be, obviously, grim. Not that anyone expect something else.
    My FFRP characters. Avatar by Ashen Lilies. Sigatars by Ashen Lilies, Gullara and Purple Eagle.
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  24. - Top - End - #174
    Troll in the Playground
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    You know how PCs just up and take you by surprise sometimes? That's what happened to me and Wolfy when Missy and Jyarl ended up fallling for each other as they bonded over little Jefferies Hellstomper. Unfortunately, their story got rushed a little by Wolfy's impending absence, but it was still fun to write.

    Jyarl / Missy / Jefferies
    Part 1: Opening Up
    Spoiler
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    Jyarl was scared.

    He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd ever been personally afraid of anything. He'd feared for the men under his command, and lately (a lot lately) he'd feared for Jefferies. But for himself? Pain could be dulled with enough drugs, and death held no more secrets from him. What was there to be afraid of?

    Still something more, it turned out. Whatever had just happened with Halifax had been more than just sex, even if it had been unwillingly hurried by the child's naptime. They'd finished sooner than they might have done otherwise and quickly dressed afterwards, moving to the sofa to share what silence remained of the afternoon. But even in that time, he'd opened himself up to her, and she'd seen signs of the young man he'd been many years and worlds ago. He'd thought the pampered noble heir had been killed in the Penal Legions, replaced by the cold and strong soldier he'd become in the Emperor's service.

    What if he couldn't close down again? Had he lost his edge? Would he always have to rely on others now?

    The warmth of Halifax's body in his arms steadied him a little. He remembered that when he first became aware of her, he had wondered what had possessed Vasquez to choose her for Mortal Coil. She was soft, emotionally open, hated to kill. Everything Jyarl wasn't. He'd seen her type before. She was the kind of soldier who got people around her killed because her "morals" held her back. So Jyarl had believed. After he'd served with her, he'd grudgingly come to realize that she didn't hesitate on the battlefield, even if she went all angsty before and after. He couldn't respect her as a person, but he could trust her as a soldier. That was the beginning and the end of their relationship, until the tenement fire changed everything.

    He'd seen her run into a burning building, unprotected and unequipped. She'd had no way to personally rescue anyone. All she'd carried with her was a set of eyes that could talk to the tactical net and direct the firebugs as they worked. He'd been furious with her for disobeying orders, but more so for being there with his brother. He'd even briefly considered putting her on report for insubordination, but he'd known how that would go. Vasquez would have pointed out first, that Halifax wasn't in his chain of command, and second, that her actions had saved lives.

    After that, most of his time was occupied with the sudden acquisition of a daughter, and it hadn't taken him long to realize he was in way over his head.

    He needed help. And he knew one soldier who was soft and emotionally open, willing to put her life on the line for her duty, and rumor had it, had once had a child. If it allowed him to keep tabs on Halifax and make sure his brother wasn't insinuating himself into Remnant through a romantic attachment, that only added to his motivation.

    The prattle of Jefferies' voice coming from the bedroom broke his reverie. He couldn't make out what she was saying, but he felt Missy chuckle. "Jefferies caught Gorgutz chewing on Master Chief's wing and is demanding that he apologize," she said. Jyarl laughed as well. While Missy tried to straighten her dishevelled hair, he kissed her bare shoulder and replaced a fallen dress strap.

    "Will you stay tonight?"
    he murmured. It was frightening, feeling so vulnerable, but he didn't want to be alone tonight. He wanted to feel he still had something, after losing everything.

    Jefferies padded into the room and climbed up onto the sofa, squeezing between Jyarl and Missy, but wrapping her little arms around Jyarl. His heart swelled. No, he hadn't lost everything. If he had lost the coldness he'd valued so much, he had certainly been compensated richly.

    Missy leaned in to give Jefferies a kiss on the temple, and then looked up at Jyarl with more warmth and tenderness than he'd ever seen in a woman's eyes before.

    "I'll stay."



    1

    This story is set a few weeks later. During this time, no commitments have been made or promises spoken, but Missy has been staying over every few nights.

    Jyarl / Missy / Jefferies
    Part 2: Waking Up
    Spoiler
    Show
    They woke up to hear the bedroom door opening, and a little silhouette standing there. "Master Chief haded a bad dream," Jefferies said.

    After becoming a parent, Jyarl had gotten into the habit of pulling on shorts before falling asleep. He reached over to make sure the blankets were covering Missy before turning on the bedside lamp. "Let's get you and Master Chief some water, then you can come in here and sleep with us." He murmured to Missy, "T-shirts and shorts are in the second drawer," before sitting up and going to Jefferies.

    He carried Jefferies into the kitchen, and dawdled there long enough for Missy to get dressed. When he returned to the bedroom, he settled Jefferies and her beargon down between him and Missy.

    "Der was a fire,"
    Jefferies said. "Der was fire all around, and I couldn't find how to get out and I finded you but you weren't moving."

    Jyarl's and Missy's eyes met. They knew exactly what night her subconscious was remembering.

    Missy spoke first. "Remember the time I burned the toast and there was a really loud noise? That loud noise will tell us if there's a fire, while it's still a little fire, and we can get out. Your bad dream won't happen." The word 'again' is left unsaid. One day they'd talk to Jefferies about her first home, but that time wasn't tonight.

    "Not MY bad dream. Master Chief haded a bad dream. I not scareded of fire." Jefferies protested.

    "Good,"
    Jyarl said. "Then you can be my brave girl and make sure we keep Gorgutz and Master Chief from being scared."

    "I can do dat,"
    Jefferies promised. "Can we leave the light on... for Master Chief?"

    Jefferies fell asleep again soon, and Jyarl followed her soon, but Missy lay awake most of the night, watching them both. Realizing that she'd fallen for both of them so hard that she'd never be able to walk away.

    She leaned over and kissed Jyarl softly on the forehead. "I love you," she whispered to him as he slept.



    1

    And this one, a few weeks on from that.

    Jyarl / Missy / Jefferies
    Part 3: Dressing Up
    Spoiler
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    Jyarl couldn't deny it to himself any longer, though it had been obvious to everyone long before he picked up on it.

    His little Hellstomper was becoming girly.

    The plush beargon hadn't been an issue. After all, it was mostly green, with only some pink accents. Jefferies had named it Master Chief, which Jyarl thought was a fine name choice. Until he made the mistake of referring to the beargon as a 'he'.

    "Master Chief is a girl, like me!"
    Jefferies insisted.

    "Then is she Mistress Chief?"


    "No, dat not her name. Her name Master Chief."

    Missy bought a few other dolls and plushies for Jefferies, but the fashion dolls, male and female, largely got turned into soldiers. But after a few weeks, one of the human dolls started wearing dresses. "Dis one name is Missy. She a soldier, but she wear dresses when she not fighting," Jefferies informed him. The doll didn't look much like the real Missy, but that didn't seem to bother Jefferies at all. It wasn't as if the beargon plushie looked anything like Master Chief.

    The next sign was one evening before his shower, Jyarl ran the clippers over his head, then called Jefferies over to do the sides of her head to maintain her mohawk. They'd been doing this a few times a week since she'd come to live with him. But this time, she put her hands over her head. "Dun want it clipped. I want pretty hair like Lottie has."

    Jyarl cleaned the clippers and put them away. "You can have any kind of hair you want," he said. They looked at pictures online, and she pointed to the hairstyles she liked.

    "How long to make my hair look like dat one?" she asked.

    Jyarl had no idea. All this girl stuff was beyond him. "We'll ask Halifax tomorrow. She'll know." he said.

    Halifax didn't disappoint. After telling Jefferies it would take a year or more to grow her hair like that, she said there was magic that could make it happen quicker. They went out together to Missy's hairdresser, and when they returned, Jefferies had braided pigtails.

    It was adorable, but he kind of missed her fierce warrior look.

    But what finally sealed it was the dress. There was going to be a party on the last day of craft class, and Jefferies begged for a special party dress. Jyarl delegated that responsibility to Halifax, of course.

    When they got home from the mall, he looked at Jefferies, then at Halifax. Back to Jefferies. "Ruffles, Halifax? Really?" he said.

    Spoiler
    Show


    Missy gave a smile made of pure evil. "Lottie helped her pick it out.."

    It was a white ruffly dress, with red flowers embroidered along the top. Even the socks had ruffles!

    His feral warrior child had become a little girl.

    Jefferies skipped in, and twirled. "Do you like it, Daddy?"

    He felt his heart skip a beat. He'd never asked her to call him Daddy, and he knew by Halifax's wide eyes that it hadn't been her suggestion. This was all Jefferies doing.

    He blinked back tears. "You look like the most beautiful little girl a daddy could have."
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-03 at 02:11 PM.
    My avatar! Isn't it just utterly diabolical? Ashen Lilies made it!

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  25. - Top - End - #175
    Troll in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Story reviews:

    Wolfy

    Edijar's Death: I always loved Edijar, and I loved this death scene, so when it wasn't used, I was disappointed. But then so much wonderful roleplay came about after he would have been dead that I'm very glad circumstances made this story non-canon. Charity is also very glad.

    Tale of the Beginning and Dark Step: Loved the mythic feel of these - that's very hard to capture. And of course the Wolfen are a favourite PC species of mine. Why don't I have a Wolfen character?

    The Fall of the Firebrand: After I read the March Upcountry series (particularly the naval battles in We Few) that you had recommended, I could see the influence. You're a really talented writer, and I hope you keep it up and eventually work on getting published - when you're not being an EMT and saving lives.

    Tualth and the Three Trials: Very reminiscent of the 1001 Nights. Shame we had to read it instead of seeing it on stage.

    Last Stand on Abbott and Costello:
    I love your death scenes, and this one reminds me that Carol deserves more screen time eventually. Because Ghurkas are badass.

    Origins: Not my favourite of your stories, because it has an air of distance to it. Your talents are better at the close up and personal.

    Another story I thought of that needs to be copied over to this thread is Mortal Coil in Hell.


    1

    Kerfuffle

    Memories series: The pacing on this is really slow, and one thing that seems missing is how Zel feels about the things happening to her. Being told in first person, there should be more emotional content to the memories.

    Sisters series: I'm not crazy about the 'I'm so evil, lulz!' character type that Zavi seems to represent, but the life bond is interesting. I like playing with that theme - my Jekyll/Hyde characters (Gus/Jake and Billie/Elaine) are two personalities in the same body, while Felis and Vita share all their thoughts and memories but don't share physical sensations. I suppose it has a lot in common with the theme of lycanthropy, demonic possession - basically the idea of one's self not being entirely autonomous.


    1

    Earl


    Mrs Bloodplunder:
    I do hope we see more of her after the wedding. Especially her and her husband falling in love.


    1

    Magtok

    Post Death Mag Journal: I believe I promised to visit you and shove sharks down your throat if you don't start writing for publication. I meant that.


    1

    Rotting Baron

    The Operative:Still very mysterious, but I'm interested enough to keep reading.


    1

    McBish


    Finding the Broom: Part 1 reads like a fairy tale which, like writing mythology, is very hard to get right. Part 2 I found more confusing, and I'm not sure I understand what happened.


    1

    Morty

    Rise of the Prophet: I loved the idea of the human sympathist being named Dipsnig. The Nexus Dipsnig would be disgusted, I imagine. And the end approaches... I never expected the Prophet to parlay with the enemy though.


    1

    Serph

    Part 1 is interesting enough to make me want to read more. Part 2 probably shouldn't have been posted until it was finished, since if you edit in more, people are unlikely to see it.


    1

    Beans

    Vesa Landers: There's not enough here to really make anything of. I've seen enough of your writing to know you're talented, but you have a tendency to hop around between characters and stories so much that you don't flesh out many of them as much as you could. Of course, ffrp is for having fun, and if that's what's fun for you, then hop like a bunny.

    Nycca Eat Nothing: A little more explanation of why Nycca is done with this world would probably help this, but that's a problem when writing in first person. You can only say what the character themselves would say.


    1

    C'nor

    Dreams and Nightmares: As a Remnant player, I object to it being 'canon' that Remnant refused to investigate a report of a slave brothel. That is so very out of character for Remnant that it just isn't possible. One of my Remnant characters, Tracey Elton, is a former prostitute herself, and would certainly take such a report seriously. Other than that, there is definitely potential here. Maybe the brothel could be in Riverside or some anonymous city rather than Inside, if you want it to never have been investigated.


    1

    Mindfreak

    Kirlia: So a ten year old was sent alone to conquer a planet? Wut? I think this must be a fandom I'm completely unfamiliar with.


    1

    Orchestra

    Laneside Bowling: I insist that Justin host a bowling party sometime. Brand would be glad to cater.


    1

    Replies to comments on my stories:


    @ Kerf: I won't be revisiting Chelonie's backstory. She was my first Nexus character, and her whole origin has so many inconsistencies that I'd have to completely reinvent her to make her a plausible character.

    @ Orch: I'm glad you liked my trans woman depiction. I've been close friends with several, and it's something I would want to get right. The Jekyll/Hyde thing was strongly influenced by the BBC mini-series Jekyll, which I highly highly recommend. (Fans of Doctor Who will be familiar with the screenwriter Stephen Moffat, as he wrote some of the best episodes with Doctors Ecclestone and Tennant before taking over as head writer for the eleventh Doctor.)

    @ Morty: I really should have done Charlie's end months ago, but now that the cult is active again, perhaps Sophie will get involved in trying to bring them to justice.

    @ Earl: I'd love for Hellstomper to meet Mrs Bloodplunder. Though as my latest story entry shows, Hellstomper has slowly started becoming civilized. Outrage! As for Xifra, when I created her, I gave her the always on 'ignore me' field as an afterthought without realizing it would completely dominate her character. The reason she fell in love so deeply with Salome was because Salome needed her, something she'd never experienced before in her life. It's really creepy that a pair of evil Slaaneshi cultists should get a happy ever after, but it somehow worked out that way.

    @ Morty: The "Billie and Elaine learn to cooperate" arc was hard to write simply because the outcome wasn't in doubt. They knew they had to do it, if only because their sons were going to use emotional weaponry to make them. That might be why that part of the story was less compelling.

    @ Orchestra: Your feedback here made me feel awesome.

    @ All authors: Stories updated through post 181. As always, check your entries.
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-03 at 01:32 PM.
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  26. - Top - End - #176
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Beans's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post

    1

    Beans

    Vesa Landers: There's not enough here to really make anything of. I've seen enough of your writing to know you're talented, but you have a tendency to hop around between characters and stories so much that you don't flesh out many of them as much as you could. Of course, ffrp is for having fun, and if that's what's fun for you, then hop like a bunny.

    Nycca Eat Nothing: A little more explanation of why Nycca is done with this world would probably help this, but that's a problem when writing in first person. You can only say what the character themselves would say.


    1

    C'nor

    Dreams and Nightmares: As a Remnant player, I object to it being 'canon' that Remnant refused to investigate a report of a slave brothel. That is so very out of character for Remnant that it just isn't possible. One of my Remnant characters, Tracey Elton, is a former prostitute herself, and would certainly take such a report seriously. Other than that, there is definitely potential here. Maybe the brothel could be in Riverside or some anonymous city rather than Inside, if you want it to never have been investigated.
    Feedback to the feedback:

    1. Issue of hopping. I'm aware of this issue of mine and it kind of bothers me; I tend to lose focus and/or get new ideas I want to try... basically all the time, leaving me incapable of finishing anything at all, which is frustrating at best and "I'm going to light myself on fire" at worst. I'm flattered that you'd say I'm talented () but that talent is being wasted until I actually stick with something. Since I'm kind of working/poised to be working/herp with C'nor and Psiclone and Murkus on Vesa's story and solidly working with C'nor on the whole Talina/Nycca thingydoodle, that may hopefully keep my attention more stable.

    2. Issue of needs more explanation. Another good point from the lady who makes good points? NAWW MAAAN. I'm going to try to get more explanation in, possibly involving a journal entry recorded before Nycca fell into slavery---a sort of "entry -1", perhaps followed by an in-slavery "entry 0"---and/or a pertinent non-Nycca entry. I'll try to get on it this afternoon after getting my new glasses; cross your fingers that I won't just collapse and watch 2-year-old Wrestle! Wrestle! reviews.

    3. Issue of Remnant would totally care. Since this story is one side of C'nor and I's collaboration, I support the brothel being not in Inside (I've never officially specified where it was to my knowledge).

    Thanks to all people who read my keyboard herpings.
    Last edited by Beans; 2012-08-03 at 12:07 PM.
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  27. - Top - End - #177
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    OrchestraHc's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Btw, C'nor, I forgot to thank you for the typo list. I got everything. Thanks for the help.

    Pirate Justin avatar by myself. Emmi avatar by Gulaghar, Much Thanks!

    My Characters

  28. - Top - End - #178
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post
    Morty

    Rise of the Prophet: I loved the idea of the human sympathist being named Dipsnig. The Nexus Dipsnig would be disgusted, I imagine. And the end approaches... I never expected the Prophet to parlay with the enemy though.
    He's not parlaying with the enemy, though. None of the three leaders like one another very much, but they're not enemies right now. The Empire is their enemy, because they hate it so much they're willing to put aside all their differences until it's wiped off the map. Maybe I should have emphasized it more.
    Besides.... he's a goblin prophet. Underhanded trickery is to be expected.
    My FFRP characters. Avatar by Ashen Lilies. Sigatars by Ashen Lilies, Gullara and Purple Eagle.
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  29. - Top - End - #179
    Troll in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Luke Goodfellow
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    It was so fast.

    One moment Carl was working on dinner while his son played with Archer nearby. He turned to put something in the sink, and the next moment, there was a scream and a crash.

    Babies scream a lot, for different reasons, but this was the type of scream that even a non-parent would recognize as pain. He whirled and saw Luke on the ground with the hot wok on the ground and rice scattered around, and he was screaming and screaming and screaming...

    Carl scooped up his child and hit his emergency teleport bracelet in one motion. They appeared in the Project Archer bunker. "Infirmary! He's burned!" Carl yells, and the technician there redirected him immediately to the ER.

    Later, he would figure out that Luke had pulled out a bottom drawer and climbed up, grabbing the frying pan as a handgrip.

    Later, he would be grateful that he'd already finished stir-frying the rice and set it aside so that it wasn't as hot as it had been a few minutes earlier.

    But when Sunny was summoned from the machine shop to the infirmary, all he could do was collapse against her and cry that Luke was burning, burning, and it was all his fault.



    Two hours later, they returned home. Archer had taken it upon himself to clean up all of the spilled rice. It was lucky for everyone that Carl had turned the gas burner off before the accident had happened, or there might not have been a home to return to.

    Charity had been on duty in the infirmary, but Bugs signed her off early and gave her emergency leave for a few days. "Your sister needs you," he said, and Charity didn't argue. The baby was fine, with only superficial burns and a goose-egg knot on his head. He was crawling around on the floor like nothing had happened. But Carl... he was in a full fledged PTSD meltdown, and Sunny needed all her attention for him. Charity called for Edijar to pack them a bag for a few days and come to the cabin. She didn't know how long they'd be needed.

    It turned out to be about a week. Long enough for Carl to see, with his own eyes, that Luke's burns were healing well, and that there was only one place where it had even made a blister. Long enough for him to start to believe that he wasn't a bad father just because there had been an accident.

    It helped that Luke wouldn't leave him alone. He put up with being cared for by Aunt Charity and Uncle Edijar for a day before he wanted his mommy and daddy. He accepted mommy's care for another day. But then the howling started. Because though all Big People were his, two of them were more his than others, and of those two, his Little Big Person was not paying him the attention that Luke considered his due. At first, Carl took the cries as evidence of pain, and Bugs was called in to give the baby a full examination. Some instinct led the doctor to unceremoniously plop the baby in his father's arms, too quickly for Carl to refuse, and the crying immediately stopped. Luke cooed and grabbed at Carl's face, happy once more.

    Charity and Edijar stayed a few days after that. On the last day, Edijar made a picnic lunch, Bugs came for the afternoon, and the family went out to a hillside with a nice view. Archer ran around barking at butterflies, and Luke crawled after the pug, laughing and babbling.

    No one let the baby out of their sight for a moment, so it wasn't necessary when Charity said, "Oh man, you guys, I'm dying of cute here. Look!" Archer had finally exhausted himself, and Luke crawled on top of the pug. Charity pulled out her phone to snap pictures of the cute pair.

    But Luke wasn't done. He only remained flopped over the dog for a moment before pushing himself upright to stand, balancing himself against Archer's bulk. The dog had infinite patience with the baby when patience was needed, and so right now, he didn't move. Luke kept a hand on Archer and took a step with great care. Finding that he didn't fall, he took another. Archer was exactly the right height for a three-quarterling baby to use as a walking aid.

    "He's really doing it, isn't he? He's walking!" Sunny whispered, pulling Carl close.

    Carl expressed his feelings in a tight squeeze, and fought to blink back tears. He didn't want anything to keep him from seeing this.

    Charity switched her phone to record video instead of photos. Edijar's joy was tinged with the sadness that would never fully leave him as he thought of Rebecca and what might have been. Bugs simply soaked in the scene, taking undiminished delight in his namesake's achievement.

    And Luke looked up at his daddy, proudly triumphant.


    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-04 at 02:00 AM.
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  30. - Top - End - #180
    Ogre in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    I'll try to comment properly on more later, but there is one that needs to be addressed first.

    @C'nor and Beans

    First, like Happy said, it's so out of character for Remnant not to investigate even a rumor of slavery(let alone a slave brothel), that it's not even funny. As often as Inside changes, there has always been a complete and utter ban on slavery within it's confines, and is one of the few true laws that Remnant reinforces.

    Second, I'm much more bothered by the fact that I wasn't asked for permission to use Remnant in a story. I know it's an Organization, but until I leave, I'm still very much the leader of it. I wasn't even asked for what Remnant would do if contacted about such.

    On a similar note, while I'm gone, four people will be in charge of Remnant. Teru, Ghar, Happy, and Morty. Please PM them for permission in future stories. And do so to all of them. The Majority decides.

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