Shipping itP II: Scourge of the Seven Seas

[randman22222]

...You keep making me a drummer... Why? Why a drummer?

'Twas well written, though.

And Vespe, I liked this one. It managed to be funny, as usual, and induced anxiety.

[Vespe Ratavo]

New fic. It's not a part of the Bioshock series, just a stand-alone. Hope you like it.

RHL/Curly
Shipping Inc.

Spoiler

Show

Hello. At first, it took Vespe a moment to figure out where the words had come from. No one else was around. Of course, that could only mean one thing. He glanced up.

Rabbit was perched on his monitor, staring at him. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here to annoy you until you start writing fics again.
Do you have to sit on my monitor?
Well where else am I going to sit? Besides, I like it up here. It's nice and warm, and I feel like a raven or something. Nevermore! She grinned.
It's not like...they don't just...I need... he sighed. Would you kindly go bother someone else for a while?
Kay. She jumped off his monitor, and walked away.
Good...now, let's see... Vespe returned to typing.

It was just around midnight, and unfortunately, there weren't many other people to play with. Shipping Inc. generally shut down a few hours prior, and only the most dedicated (or bored) shippers remained at this time of night. Most of the time, that consisted of Vespe (no social life), Curly (consistently drowning in paperwork), and Rabbit (liked to talk to the previous two). Occasionally one of the more insomniac shippers would walk in around this time of night to submit a fic, but otherwise, things were relatively peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Rabbit cracked open Curly's door, and peeked inside. Curl- A knife was suddenly embedded in the wall, about an inch from her face.
NO! IT'S NOT FINISHED YET! YOU CAN'T- oh, hi Rabbit. Sorry about that, she said, walking over to the door and taking her knife back, thought you were someone else. She stepped over a pile of papers, on another, and kicked a third aside, took her place at her desk, shoving off several forms to make room. Go ahead, sit down.

Rabbit sat down on a stack conveniently shaped like a chair, complete with arm rest and cup holder. Er...busy day, huh?

You have no idea...look at this. Curly held up a form. Add Form. She held up another, seemingly identical. Drop Form. Another. Add Drop Form. Yet another. Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Dead Form. Drop Add Egg Drop Soup Form. Request for Forms. Request to Request Request for Forms Form. Financial Impact Statements, Bomb Impact Statements, Statements, Statements, Statements, it's driving me nuts! She slammed her head on her desk, sending a stack of Request for Stack forms flying. Through a pile of Preposition to Request Statement to Add Drop Form Forms, she mumbled You know, if I had known how much paperwork this stupid thing needed...

Come on, don't talk like that, everyone loves this place! I think you need a break.
But...I can't! Who will sign the Request to Sign Forms?
Oh, relax, you're going to work yourself to death...

-----

Can I open my eyes yet? Curly asked.
Not yet.

A few minutes later, she asked again. How about now?
Still no.
Come on, the suspense is killing me.
Patience is a virtue.
I thought you won Villainess in the Playground?
Okay, you can open your eyes now.

She opened her eyes. Wow... Rabbit had gone to some length - gently flickering candles were spread across the rooftop, an oak table with two chairs had been brought up, and something smelled delicious.

And one more thing. Rabbit pushed a small button. All at once, the entire city blacked out, revealing the starry skies above.

And somewhere, several floors below them, Vespe hurled his computer against the wall in a fit of rage, having just lost his new ship fic he spent the last hour writing.

But that was of no concern to either of them. But...why?
Rabbit giggled. Well...I think you've forgotten what you started this thread for.
You're right...I think I have.
And what is that reason?
So that Playgrounders could write disturbing, strange, and occasionally sweet romantic fiction about each other?
Exactly.

Some time later, they lay on the roof, staring into the night sky. They turned, and stared into each others eyes. A familiar song began to play. Wait a minute, that song doesn't even make sense here...
Does it matter? Rabbit smiled.
Curly smiled back. No, I guess it doesn't.

We'll meet beyond the shore
we'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
and never again I'll go sailin'...

Comments, criticism, suggestions?

[happyturtle]

*hugs Vespe*

Another brilliant fic from my favourite shipper. More please! You iz teh awesome.

[Thufir]

Nice. I like the idea of all the shippers working for a big company. Poor Curly with her endless paperwork.

[randman22222]

New fic. It's not a part of the Bioshock series, just a stand-alone. Hope you like it.

RHL/Curly
Shipping Inc.

Spoiler

Show

Hello. At first, it took Vespe a moment to figure out where the words had come from. No one else was around. Of course, that could only mean one thing. He glanced up.

Rabbit was perched on his monitor, staring at him. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here to annoy you until you start writing fics again.
Do you have to sit on my monitor?
Well where else am I going to sit? Besides, I like it up here. It's nice and warm, and I feel like a raven or something. Nevermore! She grinned.
It's not like...they don't just...I need... he sighed. Would you kindly go bother someone else for a while?
Kay. She jumped off his monitor, and walked away.
Good...now, let's see... Vespe returned to typing.

It was just around midnight, and unfortunately, there weren't many other people to play with. Shipping Inc. generally shut down a few hours prior, and only the most dedicated (or bored) shippers remained at this time of night. Most of the time, that consisted of Vespe (no social life), Curly (consistently drowning in paperwork), and Rabbit (liked to talk to the previous two). Occasionally one of the more insomniac shippers would walk in around this time of night to submit a fic, but otherwise, things were relatively peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Rabbit cracked open Curly's door, and peeked inside. Curl- A knife was suddenly embedded in the wall, about an inch from her face.
NO! IT'S NOT FINISHED YET! YOU CAN'T- oh, hi Rabbit. Sorry about that, she said, walking over to the door and taking her knife back, thought you were someone else. She stepped over a pile of papers, on another, and kicked a third aside, took her place at her desk, shoving off several forms to make room. Go ahead, sit down.

Rabbit sat down on a stack conveniently shaped like a chair, complete with arm rest and cup holder. Er...busy day, huh?

You have no idea...look at this. Curly held up a form. Add Form. She held up another, seemingly identical. Drop Form. Another. Add Drop Form. Yet another. Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Dead Form. Drop Add Egg Drop Soup Form. Request for Forms. Request to Request Request for Forms Form. Financial Impact Statements, Bomb Impact Statements, Statements, Statements, Statements, it's driving me nuts! She slammed her head on her desk, sending a stack of Request for Stack forms flying. Through a pile of Preposition to Request Statement to Add Drop Form Forms, she mumbled You know, if I had known how much paperwork this stupid thing needed...

Come on, don't talk like that, everyone loves this place! I think you need a break.
But...I can't! Who will sign the Request to Sign Forms?
Oh, relax, you're going to work yourself to death...

-----

Can I open my eyes yet? Curly asked.
Not yet.

A few minutes later, she asked again. How about now?
Still no.
Come on, the suspense is killing me.
Patience is a virtue.
I thought you won Villainess in the Playground?
Okay, you can open your eyes now.

She opened her eyes. Wow... Rabbit had gone to some length - gently flickering candles were spread across the rooftop, an oak table with two chairs had been brought up, and something smelled delicious.

And one more thing. Rabbit pushed a small button. All at once, the entire city blacked out, revealing the starry skies above.

And somewhere, several floors below them, Vespe hurled his computer against the wall in a fit of rage, having just lost his new ship fic he spent the last hour writing.

But that was of no concern to either of them. But...why?
Rabbit giggled. Well...I think you've forgotten what you started this thread for.
You're right...I think I have.
And what is that reason?
So that Playgrounders could write disturbing, strange, and occasionally sweet romantic fiction about each other?
Exactly.

Some time later, they lay on the roof, staring into the night sky. They turned, and stared into each others eyes. A familiar song began to play. Wait a minute, that song doesn't even make sense here...
Does it matter? Rabbit smiled.
Curly smiled back. No, I guess it doesn't.

We'll meet beyond the shore
we'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
and never again I'll go sailin'...

Comments, criticism, suggestions?

I swear, where were you while this thread was in its infancy?
Approved! Much!

[RabbitHoleLost]

New fic. It's not a part of the Bioshock series, just a stand-alone. Hope you like it.

RHL/Curly
Shipping Inc.

Spoiler

Show

Hello. At first, it took Vespe a moment to figure out where the words had come from. No one else was around. Of course, that could only mean one thing. He glanced up.

Rabbit was perched on his monitor, staring at him. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here to annoy you until you start writing fics again.
Do you have to sit on my monitor?
Well where else am I going to sit? Besides, I like it up here. It's nice and warm, and I feel like a raven or something. Nevermore! She grinned.
It's not like...they don't just...I need... he sighed. Would you kindly go bother someone else for a while?
Kay. She jumped off his monitor, and walked away.
Good...now, let's see... Vespe returned to typing.

It was just around midnight, and unfortunately, there weren't many other people to play with. Shipping Inc. generally shut down a few hours prior, and only the most dedicated (or bored) shippers remained at this time of night. Most of the time, that consisted of Vespe (no social life), Curly (consistently drowning in paperwork), and Rabbit (liked to talk to the previous two). Occasionally one of the more insomniac shippers would walk in around this time of night to submit a fic, but otherwise, things were relatively peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Rabbit cracked open Curly's door, and peeked inside. Curl- A knife was suddenly embedded in the wall, about an inch from her face.
NO! IT'S NOT FINISHED YET! YOU CAN'T- oh, hi Rabbit. Sorry about that, she said, walking over to the door and taking her knife back, thought you were someone else. She stepped over a pile of papers, on another, and kicked a third aside, took her place at her desk, shoving off several forms to make room. Go ahead, sit down.

Rabbit sat down on a stack conveniently shaped like a chair, complete with arm rest and cup holder. Er...busy day, huh?

You have no idea...look at this. Curly held up a form. Add Form. She held up another, seemingly identical. Drop Form. Another. Add Drop Form. Yet another. Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Dead Form. Drop Add Egg Drop Soup Form. Request for Forms. Request to Request Request for Forms Form. Financial Impact Statements, Bomb Impact Statements, Statements, Statements, Statements, it's driving me nuts! She slammed her head on her desk, sending a stack of Request for Stack forms flying. Through a pile of Preposition to Request Statement to Add Drop Form Forms, she mumbled You know, if I had known how much paperwork this stupid thing needed...

Come on, don't talk like that, everyone loves this place! I think you need a break.
But...I can't! Who will sign the Request to Sign Forms?
Oh, relax, you're going to work yourself to death...

-----

Can I open my eyes yet? Curly asked.
Not yet.

A few minutes later, she asked again. How about now?
Still no.
Come on, the suspense is killing me.
Patience is a virtue.
I thought you won Villainess in the Playground?
Okay, you can open your eyes now.

She opened her eyes. Wow... Rabbit had gone to some length - gently flickering candles were spread across the rooftop, an oak table with two chairs had been brought up, and something smelled delicious.

And one more thing. Rabbit pushed a small button. All at once, the entire city blacked out, revealing the starry skies above.

And somewhere, several floors below them, Vespe hurled his computer against the wall in a fit of rage, having just lost his new ship fic he spent the last hour writing.

But that was of no concern to either of them. But...why?
Rabbit giggled. Well...I think you've forgotten what you started this thread for.
You're right...I think I have.
And what is that reason?
So that Playgrounders could write disturbing, strange, and occasionally sweet romantic fiction about each other?
Exactly.

Some time later, they lay on the roof, staring into the night sky. They turned, and stared into each others eyes. A familiar song began to play. Wait a minute, that song doesn't even make sense here...
Does it matter? Rabbit smiled.
Curly smiled back. No, I guess it doesn't.

We'll meet beyond the shore
we'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
and never again I'll go sailin'...

Comments, criticism, suggestions?

::pokes index fingers together:: I can't help that I like talking to people late at night! Its not mah fault!
Very cute. And, oddly, for not knowing much about me, you got me down almost perfectly.
Vespe gets another yaaaay.

[Helgraf]

My name is Vespe Ratavo, and I am here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to write a really, really weird shipfic? No, says the man in the thread, it belongs to cute. No, says the other man in the thread, it belongs to "romance." No, says the girl in the thread, and stop writing ships about Curly and Cthulhu, it's freaking me out.

I rejected those answers. I chose the impossible...I chose...Rapture. A fic where the artist would not fear the censor, where the writer would not be bound by petty "sanity," where the awesome would not be constrained by the normal!

And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your ship as well.

Translation?

Vespe's writing a Bioshock-inspired ship fic. And he's looking for people with no sense of dignity to be in it. It will most likely be longer than my previous efforts, with lots of ships involved. I'll also try and make it enjoyable to those who haven't played the game.

For those of you who haven't played it, all you need to know is that there's this secret underwater city called Rapture filled with the best and brightest from all over the world, which was great, until someone discovered this stuff called ADAM, which, through the power of rubber science, allowed people to genetically modify themselves to do just about anything, up to and including shooting lightning and bees. Unfortunately, it has pretty bad side effects, including paranoia, insanity, facial disfigurement, and death by shotgun to the face. Then there was a civil war over the ADAM and everything went to boop.

It's better than it sounds, really.

Sure, integrate me Big Daddy.

[CurlyKitGirl]

New fic. It's not a part of the Bioshock series, just a stand-alone. Hope you like it.

RHL/Curly
Shipping Inc.

Spoiler

Show

Hello. At first, it took Vespe a moment to figure out where the words had come from. No one else was around. Of course, that could only mean one thing. He glanced up.

Rabbit was perched on his monitor, staring at him. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here to annoy you until you start writing fics again.
Do you have to sit on my monitor?
Well where else am I going to sit? Besides, I like it up here. It's nice and warm, and I feel like a raven or something. Nevermore! She grinned.
It's not like...they don't just...I need... he sighed. Would you kindly go bother someone else for a while?
Kay. She jumped off his monitor, and walked away.
Good...now, let's see... Vespe returned to typing.

It was just around midnight, and unfortunately, there weren't many other people to play with. Shipping Inc. generally shut down a few hours prior, and only the most dedicated (or bored) shippers remained at this time of night. Most of the time, that consisted of Vespe (no social life), Curly (consistently drowning in paperwork), and Rabbit (liked to talk to the previous two). Occasionally one of the more insomniac shippers would walk in around this time of night to submit a fic, but otherwise, things were relatively peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Rabbit cracked open Curly's door, and peeked inside. Curl- A knife was suddenly embedded in the wall, about an inch from her face.
NO! IT'S NOT FINISHED YET! YOU CAN'T- oh, hi Rabbit. Sorry about that, she said, walking over to the door and taking her knife back, thought you were someone else. She stepped over a pile of papers, on another, and kicked a third aside, took her place at her desk, shoving off several forms to make room. Go ahead, sit down.

Rabbit sat down on a stack conveniently shaped like a chair, complete with arm rest and cup holder. Er...busy day, huh?

You have no idea...look at this. Curly held up a form. Add Form. She held up another, seemingly identical. Drop Form. Another. Add Drop Form. Yet another. Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Drop Add Drop Form. Drop Dead Form. Drop Add Egg Drop Soup Form. Request for Forms. Request to Request Request for Forms Form. Financial Impact Statements, Bomb Impact Statements, Statements, Statements, Statements, it's driving me nuts! She slammed her head on her desk, sending a stack of Request for Stack forms flying. Through a pile of Preposition to Request Statement to Add Drop Form Forms, she mumbled You know, if I had known how much paperwork this stupid thing needed...

Come on, don't talk like that, everyone loves this place! I think you need a break.
But...I can't! Who will sign the Request to Sign Forms?
Oh, relax, you're going to work yourself to death...

-----

Can I open my eyes yet? Curly asked.
Not yet.

A few minutes later, she asked again. How about now?
Still no.
Come on, the suspense is killing me.
Patience is a virtue.
I thought you won Villainess in the Playground?
Okay, you can open your eyes now.

She opened her eyes. Wow... Rabbit had gone to some length - gently flickering candles were spread across the rooftop, an oak table with two chairs had been brought up, and something smelled delicious.

And one more thing. Rabbit pushed a small button. All at once, the entire city blacked out, revealing the starry skies above.

And somewhere, several floors below them, Vespe hurled his computer against the wall in a fit of rage, having just lost his new ship fic he spent the last hour writing.

But that was of no concern to either of them. But...why?
Rabbit giggled. Well...I think you've forgotten what you started this thread for.
You're right...I think I have.
And what is that reason?
So that Playgrounders could write disturbing, strange, and occasionally sweet romantic fiction about each other?
Exactly.

Some time later, they lay on the roof, staring into the night sky. They turned, and stared into each others eyes. A familiar song began to play. Wait a minute, that song doesn't even make sense here...
Does it matter? Rabbit smiled.
Curly smiled back. No, I guess it doesn't.

We'll meet beyond the shore
we'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
and never again I'll go sailin'...

Comments, criticism, suggestions?

Awwwww. Feel free to ship me in any of your fics ever. That's amazing, even if I'm drowned in non sensical paperwork all the time.
I REGRET NOTHING!
And your ship gave me inspiration. Pairing chosen solely for physical similarities/attributes to characters:

P_Z/RHL:

My Dearest Friend:

Spoiler

Show

RHL slipped out through the crookedly fastened gates to the graveyard whered she'd first seen him bare his soul to the world, thinking only that his beloved Zero was listening.
She'd sat, in awe of him. He was the King for a reason. But when she listened to him removing the terrifyingly amiable mask she realised just how similar they were.
That was when her love bloomed.
But she was just a friend. Someone who was accepted, but not held dear. And even their friendship was weak enough to wither under his strong conviction of his rightness. He was King, he was always right. No matter what.
Yet she was his 'frien' enough that she had to try to stop his foolishness; too bad it was contagious. She got caught and he saved her.
He saved me.
It seemed like they would kiss then. His tall, guant frame leant down to her. And then that bumbling, wo - faced mayor broke the moment. Took apart her last chance at loving him.
As the town sang his acclaim she left; love dead as the flowers that once bloomed on her graves. Back to Spiral Hill. His place.
She sat and relaxed, thinking of how close they used to be.
And all unknowing, her love had followed her, looked at her. And took a leap of faith.
He confessed to her. Deep in her raggedy heart she felt her love blossom anew. He loveed her too! As his gentle arms folded round her, drawing her closer he leant in for a kiss. And it was beautiful.

Yes, yes, inspiration from that fic and the film. No suing please. No cash available.

[Dragonrider]

All right, Vespe, you inspired me. I hope you don't mind.

(if anyone wants to be cut out, I guess that's fine... just let me know.)

No real ships here, just an ensemble piece

Shipping Inc numero dos

Spoiler

Show

“Shipping Inc: NOW HIRING”

Tears threatened their way out of Curly’s eyes as she looked up at the sign.

“I can’t BELIEVE they did this to us,” she said to herself. “After all our hard work…laid off.”

The unexpected chorus of murmured assent from behind her caused her to jump. She spun around, eyes widening as she took in the gathering of fellow shippers standing there. “Um…hi, guys,” she said, hurriedly brushing away the tears that had gathered on her eyelashes. “Yeah…”

“This isn’t right,” said RHL, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. “I’m going to DEMAND an explanation.”

“I don’t think they’re under any legal obligation to give one,” said Vespe apologetically.

“Well, they SHOULD be,” said Happyturtle.

“Look, guys,” said Curly, putting her hands up. “I wish I could do something about this. I feel like somehow it’s my fault…” she reached into her pocket for the letter, fingers fumbling as she smoothed the much-read sheet of paper. “ ‘Dear Employees of Shipping Incorporated’,” she read aloud.

There was a mass movement as everyone else dove for their pockets.

“ ‘We regret to inform you that our profits have now increased to the point where we feel comfortable hiring syndicated PROFESSIONALS to do our writing’,” Dragonrider said, having half-memorized the letter already. “ ‘Therefore, it is our sad responsibility to inform you that, although we value your contribution to the greater community and to Shipping Incorporated, we feel bound to release you from your contracts. We would be happy to give recommendations to anyone who is applying for another job. Signed, the management’. Look—I know I wasn’t the most prolific of shippers, but—” she broke off, crumpling the paper into a ball. “Well, I don’t think I’m going to stand for it.”

Aziraphale came forward and put his arm around Curly, glaring up at the sign as though he wanted to smite it. “CurlyKitGirl FOUNDED this company,” he said to the assembled ex-shippers. “They have NO RIGHT.”

“So what are we going to do?” asked Dallas-Dakota quietly.

Curly shook her head, her jaw set and her eyes hard. “There’s only one thing we CAN do,” she answered.

“What’s that?” asked Phoekun.

“We,” said Curly firmly, “are going to strike back.”


* * * * *


“Higher!” hissed Raistlin to Happyturtle, his arms trembling with the weight of the beam.

“I CAN’T,” said Happyturtle in a muted roar. “Someone else—ARGH.”

RHL had popped her head up out of nowhere, causing Happyturtle to drop the beam entirely. It fell to earth with a THUD and all three of them winced.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be quiet here,” said RHL.

“We’re writers, not builders,” muttered Happyturtle, rubbing her arms. “Look, give me a hand, will you?”

RHL set her hammer down and stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves. Together, the three of them hoisted the beam high while Kaeleroth picked up RHL’s hammer and pounded nails into the wood, so that the three of them stepped away and it stayed firmly attached.

“EXCELLENT,” said Dragonrider. “Good work all of you. Curly?”

“Right here,” said Curly. She carried a bucket of paint in each hand. Phoekun and Aziraphale followed with two more apiece; Dallas-Dakota had an armful of white sheets, Dragonrider carried a paper bag full of paintbrushes, and Vespe held a mysterious white plastic sack.

“What do you have in there?” asked Kaeleroth curiously.

Vespe put a finger to his lips. “The secret weapon,” he said.

It took the ten of them an entire night to finish. It was four twenty-two AM by Dragonrider’s watch when they finished, gathered their things, and marched away to hide the evidence.

Dallas-Dakota stifled a yawn.

“The question is, will we be awake enough to see their reactions?” he remarked to Curly.

She smiled grimly. “YOU can go to sleep if you want, D-D, but I’M not going to miss this for the world.”

“OK, I have a question,” said Happyturtle.

“Yeah?” Aziraphale said.

“We’ll be sitting in a plain, unmarked, white van watching. Isn’t that an incredibly obvious thing for us to do?”

“Dude,” said Raistlin, “these are the guys who FIRED us for doing our JOB. The company will SINK without us. They’re IDIOTS. Trust me, Happyturtle, they won’t suspect a thing.”

Their van was safely ensconced within watching distance when the first interviewees pulled into the parking lot at 8 AM sharp. Dragonrider, who had been curled up under a seat snoozing while Dallas-Dakota snored on the luggage rack, jumped awake at Curly’s shout.

“Look! There they are! They’ve seen it!”

Everyone crowded to the front of the van, except Dallas-Dakota, who remained asleep in the back.

“Aww,” said Vespe in disappointment, “it’s RANDMAN.”

“What’s he doing there?” asked Aziraphale.

“Maybe he’s interviewing,” Dragonrider suggested.

“DAMN,” said Curly, punching the steering wheel. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Dragonrider patted her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said, this is more fun anyway. Look, he hasn’t seen it yet—ah—wait—”

They were delighted to see the double take as Randman stepped back and beheld their construction in its entirety. A massive figure loomed over the entrance to Shipping Inc, obscuring the NOW HIRING sign and ‘flipping the bird’, as it were, at all those who approached it. This hand, carved by Vespe and heretofore concealed in the garbage bag, was gloriously painted in shocking orange. The rest of the body was draped with sheets and painted with the words:

WE HATE OUR EMPLOYEES
WE DON’T WANT YOU
GO HOME

Its face was hideously twisted, the handiwork of several quick-fingered ex-shippers who had given it glaring, blood-shot eyes and a wickedly grinning mouth.

The shippers, hiding in the van, collapsed together in a fit of laughter as Randman dashed back to his car. The engine started with a rumble and his tires squealed as he fled the scene. A moment later, Dragonrider’s cell phone rang. She answered it bemusedly to hear his voice on the other end.

“PRAY TO ZEUS FOR FORGIVENESS, MY FRIENDS, because he’s warped the minds of Shipping Inc!”

It was loud enough to startle Dallas-Dakota from his luggage rack; he fell to the floor with a crash and the howls that followed were, no doubt, enough to scare Randman away permanently. Everyone was laughing too hard to care.

“That was…worth…every…minute,” said Raistlin between gasps.

“It so was,” agreed RHL. “Come on; let’s go.”

As Dragonrider climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Curly looked back at RHL, noticing the dreamy smile the crossed her face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“That wasn’t the end, you know,” she said.

“Excuse me?” said Zira.

RHL allowed a wicked grin to cross her face. “Our NEXT shipping company,” she said, “should have a pirate theme….”

[Calamity]

@Vespe, Curly and DR: We just got shown how awesome can come in many different colours. Brilliant stuff!

I've had an idea for a ship, it's self-inclusive but oh well, it's the first idea I've had that doesn't have any problems with permissions. No, it isn't Calamity/Dihan, that's too obvious
So, I'll try my hand at it.

[CurlyKitGirl]

All right, Vespe, you inspired me. I hope you don't mind.

(if anyone wants to be cut out, I guess that's fine... just let me know.)

No real ships here, just an ensemble piece

Shipping Inc numero dos

Spoiler

Show

“Shipping Inc: NOW HIRING”

Tears threatened their way out of Curly’s eyes as she looked up at the sign.

“I can’t BELIEVE they did this to us,” she said to herself. “After all our hard work…laid off.”

The unexpected chorus of murmured assent from behind her caused her to jump. She spun around, eyes widening as she took in the gathering of fellow shippers standing there. “Um…hi, guys,” she said, hurriedly brushing away the tears that had gathered on her eyelashes. “Yeah…”

“This isn’t right,” said RHL, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. “I’m going to DEMAND an explanation.”

“I don’t think they’re under any legal obligation to give one,” said Vespe apologetically.

“Well, they SHOULD be,” said Happyturtle.

“Look, guys,” said Curly, putting her hands up. “I wish I could do something about this. I feel like somehow it’s my fault…” she reached into her pocket for the letter, fingers fumbling as she smoothed the much-read sheet of paper. “ ‘Dear Employees of Shipping Incorporated’,” she read aloud.

There was a mass movement as everyone else dove for their pockets.

“ ‘We regret to inform you that our profits have now increased to the point where we feel comfortable hiring syndicated PROFESSIONALS to do our writing’,” Dragonrider said, having half-memorized the letter already. “ ‘Therefore, it is our sad responsibility to inform you that, although we value your contribution to the greater community and to Shipping Incorporated, we feel bound to release you from your contracts. We would be happy to give recommendations to anyone who is applying for another job. Signed, the management’. Look—I know I wasn’t the most prolific of shippers, but—” she broke off, crumpling the paper into a ball. “Well, I don’t think I’m going to stand for it.”

Aziraphale came forward and put his arm around Curly, glaring up at the sign as though he wanted to smite it. “CurlyKitGirl FOUNDED this company,” he said to the assembled ex-shippers. “They have NO RIGHT.”

“So what are we going to do?” asked Dallas-Dakota quietly.

Curly shook her head, her jaw set and her eyes hard. “There’s only one thing we CAN do,” she answered.

“What’s that?” asked Phoekun.

“We,” said Curly firmly, “are going to strike back.”


* * * * *


“Higher!” hissed Raistlin to Happyturtle, his arms trembling with the weight of the beam.

“I CAN’T,” said Happyturtle in a muted roar. “Someone else—ARGH.”

RHL had popped her head up out of nowhere, causing Happyturtle to drop the beam entirely. It fell to earth with a THUD and all three of them winced.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be quiet here,” said RHL.

“We’re writers, not builders,” muttered Happyturtle, rubbing her arms. “Look, give me a hand, will you?”

RHL set her hammer down and stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves. Together, the three of them hoisted the beam high while Kaeleroth picked up RHL’s hammer and pounded nails into the wood, so that the three of them stepped away and it stayed firmly attached.

“EXCELLENT,” said Dragonrider. “Good work all of you. Curly?”

“Right here,” said Curly. She carried a bucket of paint in each hand. Phoekun and Aziraphale followed with two more apiece; Dallas-Dakota had an armful of white sheets, Dragonrider carried a paper bag full of paintbrushes, and Vespe held a mysterious white plastic sack.

“What do you have in there?” asked Kaeleroth curiously.

Vespe put a finger to his lips. “The secret weapon,” he said.

It took the ten of them an entire night to finish. It was four twenty-two AM by Dragonrider’s watch when they finished, gathered their things, and marched away to hide the evidence.

Dallas-Dakota stifled a yawn.

“The question is, will we be awake enough to see their reactions?” he remarked to Curly.

She smiled grimly. “YOU can go to sleep if you want, D-D, but I’M not going to miss this for the world.”

“OK, I have a question,” said Happyturtle.

“Yeah?” Aziraphale said.

“We’ll be sitting in a plain, unmarked, white van watching. Isn’t that an incredibly obvious thing for us to do?”

“Dude,” said Raistlin, “these are the guys who FIRED us for doing our JOB. The company will SINK without us. They’re IDIOTS. Trust me, Happyturtle, they won’t suspect a thing.”

Their van was safely ensconced within watching distance when the first interviewees pulled into the parking lot at 8 AM sharp. Dragonrider, who had been curled up under a seat snoozing while Dallas-Dakota snored on the luggage rack, jumped awake at Curly’s shout.

“Look! There they are! They’ve seen it!”

Everyone crowded to the front of the van, except Dallas-Dakota, who remained asleep in the back.

“Aww,” said Vespe in disappointment, “it’s RANDMAN.”

“What’s he doing there?” asked Aziraphale.

“Maybe he’s interviewing,” Dragonrider suggested.

“DAMN,” said Curly, punching the steering wheel. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Dragonrider patted her should. “It’s okay,” she said, this is more fun anyway. Look, he hasn’t seen it yet—ah—wait—”

They were delighted to see the double take as Randman stepped back and beheld their construction in its entirety. A massive figure loomed over the entrance to Shipping Inc, obscuring the NOW HIRING sign and ‘flipping the bird’, as it were, at all those who approached it. This hand, carved by Vespe and concealed in the garbage bag, was gloriously painted in shocking orange. The rest of the body was draped with sheets and painted with the words:

WE HATE OUR EMPLOYEES
WE DON’T WANT YOU
GO HOME

Its face was hideously twisted, the handiwork of several quick-fingered ex-shippers who had given it glaring, blood-shot eyes and a wickedly grinning mouth.

The shippers, hiding in the van, collapsed together in a fit of laughter as Randman dashed back to his car. The engine started with a rumble and his tires squealed as he fled the scene. A moment later, Dragonrider’s cell phone rang. She answered it bemusedly to hear his voice on the other end.

“PRAY TO ZEUS FOR FORGIVENESS, MY FRIENDS, because he’s warped the minds of Shipping Inc!”

It was loud enough to startle Dallas-Dakota from his luggage rack; he fell to the floor with a crash and the howls that followed were, no doubt, enough to scare Randman away permanently. Everyone was laughing too hard to care.

“That was…worth…every…minute,” said Raistlin between gasps.

“It so was,” agreed RHL. “Come on; let’s go.”

As Dragonrider climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Curly looked back at RHL, noticing the dreamy smile the crossed her face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“That wasn’t the end, you know,” she said.

“Excuse me?” said Zira.

RHL allowed a wicked grin to cross her face. “Our NEXT shipping company,” she said, “should have a pirate theme….”

Love you too! Very cool.
Seems Shipping Inc.'s becoming a mini - series. I'll be doing one tomorrow as well.

[Lyinginbedmon]

Shipping Inc: Takeover

Spoiler

Show

"Sir, this is very flattering, but I-"

She paused for a moment, hestitated, the urge to stammer or stutter or reveal some vulnerable speech impediment fighting its way past her teeth.

"I don't think we can accept this offer."

In the expansive and brightly-coloured office, the businessman stood out like a small child in a red dress in the middle of some black and white film. He dressed in a navy blue suit, his hair tied in an exquisitely-maintained ponytail, his beard neatly trimmed.

Behind him his cohorts preferred to stand. Truly they blended in better than he did. An elven woman of bluish-purple skin, with shocking white hair, tied back in a bun, and what Curly could only describe as some kind of fish, dressed in a seemingly-tailored suit, hovering at eye level above the floor.

They hadn't said a word during the entire meeting.

"Miss Curly, I'm afraid this is not a negotiation."

He rested his chin on his palm in stern annoyance, the meeting had been running late for hours now. Curly's stalling tactic of overdosing clients with the diaretic qualities of coffee had failed to make the man even fidget in his seat.

"We have arranged this, you and your workers will be paid a fair wage as can be given for their unskiled labour, and we will run this company from the date as which your employees can vacate the premises."

"But, my people have relationships, and hobbies, and rents and loans to pay. I can't just let them go like this!"

The fish reached into the businessman's briefcase, his red flipper grasping it in ways that, to Curly's knowledge, shouldn't have been possible.

"As far as legal assets go, you don't have any choice."

"We purchased 50.05% of your company's stock yesterday afternoon."

Curly was surprised at the woman. She spoke with appropriate grace to her appearance, but a wicked grin adorned her face when she spoke, as if greedily declaring a victory.

"So legally, we already own this company. This period of grace and the redundancy pays are purely for corporate image."

"But, but I-"

Dr. Igon Minoblendy uncrossed his legs, and stood up. His cohorts addressed him with their attentive gaze, as Curly began almost to shake in her seat.

"As of fourty-eight hours from now, Miss Curly, Advanced Battle Royalties is running Shipping Incorporated."

I did my best to avoid anything objectionable, since I believe the two cohorts aren't listed in the permissions thread.

[Calamity]

Hate is Love
Calamity/zeratul

Spoiler

Show

As zeratul’s sword swung at Calamity, he was forced to use both of daggers to be able to block it. He formed a crossed shape with them, just before the sword struck where they had crossed. Calamity had not expected the strike to be so strong however, and felt a crushing realisation as he lost his grip, and the daggers fell out of his hands. Zeratul had finally beaten him.
Calamity looked down at the ground, and closed his eyes.
“It’s over, zer. You’ve won. Now, end it.”
Zeratul lifted his sword, but couldn’t bring himself to swing it back down on the now helpless Calamity.
“I… I can’t.”
There was an awkward silence. Calamity opened his eyes and looked back up at zeratul, inquisitively.
“Why not?”
“It was supposed to be… an eternal struggle.”
“Zer…”
“I don’t want it to end!!”
“Why… I thought you hated me?”
It was zer's turn to look down at the ground, and for what seemed like hours to Calamity, even though it was only seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then, he spoke under his breath, just loud enough for Calamity to hear:

“…So did I.”

Short one. Good or bad? Probably the latter.
'Is also my first ship. Yay?

[Dragonrider]

Spoiler

Show

"Sir, this is very flattering, but I-"

She paused for a moment, hestitated, the urge to stammer or stutter or reveal some vulnerable speech impediment fighting its way past her teeth.

"I don't think we can accept this offer."

In the expansive and brightly-coloured office, the businessman stood out like a small child in a red dress in the middle of some black and white film. He dressed in a navy blue suit, his hair tied in an exquisitely-maintained ponytail, his bear neatly trimmed.

Behind him his cohorts preferred to stand. Truly they blended in better than he did. An elven woman of bluish-purple skin, with shocking white hair, tied back in a bun, and what Curly could only describe as some kind of fish, dressed in a seemingly-tailored suit, hovering at eye level above the floor.

They hadn't said a word during the entire meeting.

"Miss Curly, I'm afraid this not a negotiation."

He rested his chin on his palm in stern annoyance, the meeting had been running late for hours now. Curly's stalling tactic of overdosing coffee's diaretic qualities had failed to make the man even fidget in his seat.

"We have arranged this, you and your workers will be paid a fair wage as can be given for their unskiled labour, and we will run this company from the date as which your employees can vacate the premises."

"But, my people have relationships, and hobbies, and rents and loans to pay. I can't just let them go like this!"

The fish reached into the businessman's briefcase, his red flipper grasping in ways that, to Curly's knowledge, shouldn't have been possible.

"As far as legal assets go, you don't have any choice."

"We purchased 50.05% of your company's stock yesterday afternoon."

Curly was surprised at the woman. She spoke with appropriate grace to her appearance, but a wicked grin adorned her face when she spoke, as if greedily declaring a victory.

"So legally, we already own this company. This period of grace and the redundancy pays are purely for corporate image."

"But, but I-"

Dr. Igon Minoblendy uncrossed his legs, and stood up. His cohorts addressed him with their gaze of attention, as Curly began almost to shake in her seat.

"As of fourty-eight hours from now, Miss Curly, Advanced Battle Royalties is running Shipping Incorporated."

I did my best to avoid anything objectionable, since I believe the two cohorts aren't listed in the permissions thread.

Ha! A prequel to my sequel!

[Lyinginbedmon]

Hate is Love
Calamity/zeratul

Spoiler

Show

As zeratul’s sword swung at Calamity, he was forced to use both of daggers to be able to block it. He formed a crossed shape with them, just before the sword struck where they had crossed. Calamity had not expected the strike to be so strong however, and felt a crushing realisation as he lost his grip, and the daggers fell out of his hands. Zeratul had finally beaten him.
Calamity looked down at the ground, and closed his eyes.
“It’s over, zer. You’ve won. Now, end it.”
Zeratul lifted his sword, but couldn’t bring himself to swing it back down on the now helpless Calamity.
“I… I can’t.”
There was an awkward silence. Calamity opened his eyes and looked back up at zeratul, inquisitively.
“Why not?”
“It was supposed to be… an eternal struggle.”
“Zer…”
“I don’t want it to end!!”
“Why… I thought you hated me?”
It was zer's turn to look down at the ground, and for what seemed like hours to Calamity, even though it was only seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then, he spoke under his breath, just loud enough for Calamity to hear:

“…So did I.”

Short one. Good or bad? Probably the latter.
'Is also my first ship. Yay?

Not bad, but try to avoid long periods of text in romantically-natured stories. Silence/pauses and vivid description work best when emotions are the key element to a scene.

For example:
“Why not?”
zeratul hestitated, he didn't want to say what was wrong, why he couldn't strike Calamity down. He didn't want it to be so blunt.
“It was supposed to be… an eternal struggle.”
But he had to.

[Calamity]

Not bad, but try to avoid long periods of text in romantically-natured stories. Silence/pauses and vivid description work best when emotions are the key element to a scene.

For example:
“Why not?”
zeratul hestitated, he didn't want to say what was wrong, why he couldn't strike Calamity down. He didn't want it to be so blunt.
“It was supposed to be… an eternal struggle.”
But he had to.

Yeah, as I've stated before, I'm not a writer. Thanks.

[Vespe Ratavo]

Heheh, thanks, everyone. Glad you liked it. I also love the sequel, and the prequel-to-the-sequel. So...let's keep this train wreck a-rollin'!

*starts work on next chapter in the epic saga next silly ship fic*

[Dragonrider]

From the permissions thread:

Women, men, animals, and inanimate objects, though, are still fine. I love lamps, especially.

What can I say? I took it and ran.

WARNING: Some people might find this highly disturbing!

I don’t think I’ve EVER laughed so hard while writing something.

Sneak
In Destiny’s Shade

Spoiler

Show

“I’ve always loved tall women,” said Sneak, wrapping his arms around her.

Destiny smiled. “I love you with all my wattage,” she said, her soft, incandescent voice caressing his face with a warm touch.

“My dear Destiny,” said Sneak, running a hand down her slender neck, “Will you marry me?”

Her light shone brighter than ever before as his foot brushed her slider, moving it up till she was bright as the sun. She beamed at him and he ran his fingers through her tassels, rubbing his nose against the soft, silken embroidery of her shade.

“Is that a yes?”

“Sneak,” said Destiny with sincerity, “I never want you to leave my lampshade. Yes; I love you and I always will.”

Sneak ducked his head and slipped inside her shade until his eyes watered from the brightness of her light; yet he never blinked or looked away. His lips met her smooth face and his skin burned where it touched hers, burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off…yet he never pulled away. He wrapped his arms around her insubstantial body, fingering the long, elegant chain that dangled from her neck. It was impossible for him to disengage from her, but although tears ran down his cheeks and his lips were on fire, he was happy in the knowledge that they would never, ever part.

He was still like that when the neighbors found him, three days later. His body wasn’t even cold...and the light of her bulb still shone from beneath his blackened lips, burning as hot as the day they first met.

Re-reading it for typos, very time I get to burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off I start laughing hysterically...I can't help it.

[Vespe Ratavo]

From the permissions thread:




What can I say? I took it and ran.

WARNING: Some people might find this highly disturbing!

I don’t think I’ve EVER laughed so hard while writing something.

Sneak
In Destiny’s Shade

Spoiler

Show

“I’ve always loved tall women,” said Sneak, wrapping his arms around her.

Destiny smiled. “I love you with all my wattage,” she said, her soft, incandescent voice caressing his face with a warm touch.

“My dear Destiny,” said Sneak, running a hand down her slender neck, “Will you marry me?”

Her light shone brighter than ever before as his foot brushed her slider, moving it up till she was bright as the sun. She beamed at him and he ran his fingers through her tassels, rubbing his nose against the soft, silken embroidery of her shade.

“Is that a yes?”

“Sneak,” said Destiny with sincerity, “I never want you to leave my lampshade. Yes; I love you and I always will.”

Sneak ducked his head and slipped inside her shade until his eyes watered from the brightness of her light; yet he never blinked or looked away. His lips met her smooth face and his skin burned where it touched hers, burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off…yet he never pulled away. He wrapped his arms around her insubstantial body, fingering the long, elegant chain that dangled from her neck. It was impossible for him to disengage from her, but although tears ran down his cheeks and his lips were on fire, he was happy in the knowledge that they would never, ever part.

He was still like that when the neighbors found him, three days later. His body wasn’t even cold...and the light of her bulb still shone from beneath his blackened lips, burning as hot as the day they first met.

Re-reading it for typos, very time I get to burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off I start laughing hysterically...I can't help it.

That's a...quite an...interesting...
*collapses on the floor, laughing*
Oh gods, that is hilarious. Very, very well done.

Now you've gone and inspired me; I'm going to have to write another brain-melting one...
*evil laughter*

[Cristo Meyers]

and another episode like the last 4: here

This is starting to get entertaining, too bad I have no idea where to go with it.

[Dragonrider]

@Vespe:



Another one influenced by looking in the permissions thread:

I give my permission on the conditions that any story make at least one plausible mention of Angainor, the chain used to bind Melkor for his imprisonment in the Silmarillion.

Oh yeah, and if anybody tries for it, PM me. I want to watch you squirm.

You asked for it, buddy.

Unique/Curly

Queen of the Stars

Spoiler

Show

Damn, the chain was heavy.

I struggled to lift it. I wanted to free him; I wanted to help him shed the awful weight that bound him for all eternity. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried one more time.

The voice rumbled forth.

“Who enters my prison? Show yourself!”

I jumped to attention. “My lord!” It came out squeaky. He shifted and the earth shook; I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground. My head hit a rock and I lay there, dazed, staring up at the black ceiling.

“Manwë! What foul trick might this be? I tell thee now: show thyself or I will smite thee, bound though I am by this accursed chain!”

I sat up. My head still spun and I threw out a hand to catch myself.

“Manwë!” bellowed Morgoth once more. “Manwë! I curse thee and all thy children. Because of thee and thy offspring I was bound here, condemned to sleep under the weight of Angainor; because of thee, I sit in this dark prison. Answer me!”

“It is I,” I said, finding my voice at last; “I, not Manwë, who comes. I am here to free you, to break Angainor, to end your imprisonment….”

A hand fell on my arm. I jumped and turned.

“Who…?”

“Unique, child of men. Why come you to this place? What evil drew you here that you might be ensnared by foul Melkor and his wicked ways?”

I gaped. “Wh-wh-who…?”

“I have many different names in the languages of men and elves. I am Varda Elentári to some, Elbereth Gilthoniel to others, Queen of the stars; you might know me as CurlyKitGirl.”

I fell back under her stare. “B-b-but you hate Tolkien! What are you doing here? It is my task to break Angainor and end Morgoth’s imprisonment!”

“That might be your task,” she said, taking my arm. “Mine is to remove you and your thrice-cursed Lord of the Rings from this thread, in which no ‘ship’ but the ‘ship’ of the Playgrounder—not that of Eärendil—belongs.”

I cast one last glance back at Morgoth; he let out a long, mournful wail and then fell silent. I swallowed hard and looked ahead, knowing that my own torture and imprisonment would be long and painful; Morgoth’s was nothing in comparison to the punishment I would receive for bringing J.R.R. Tolkien into the Shipping thread.

[RabbitHoleLost]

Awww, I loved the Prequels/sequels to the Shipping Inc.
And, Cala, that was super cute =3

I have a question for an upcoming fic. I need a henchman. A henchman who will talk back to incompetent Villain Rabbit (and, no, there is no romance implied there; infact, I'm not even part of the pairing)

[PhoeKun]

It's a tempting role, but I'm afraid I don't do the "talking back" thing very well. Oh well, maybe next time.

Coming soon - more story from me. I hope to be finished by next weekend. *gasps from all*

[Thufir]

If the talking back consists of sarcasm, I volunteer.

[CurlyKitGirl]

From the permissions thread:




What can I say? I took it and ran.

WARNING: Some people might find this highly disturbing!

I don’t think I’ve EVER laughed so hard while writing something.

Sneak
In Destiny’s Shade

Spoiler

Show

“I’ve always loved tall women,” said Sneak, wrapping his arms around her.

Destiny smiled. “I love you with all my wattage,” she said, her soft, incandescent voice caressing his face with a warm touch.

“My dear Destiny,” said Sneak, running a hand down her slender neck, “Will you marry me?”

Her light shone brighter than ever before as his foot brushed her slider, moving it up till she was bright as the sun. She beamed at him and he ran his fingers through her tassels, rubbing his nose against the soft, silken embroidery of her shade.

“Is that a yes?”

“Sneak,” said Destiny with sincerity, “I never want you to leave my lampshade. Yes; I love you and I always will.”

Sneak ducked his head and slipped inside her shade until his eyes watered from the brightness of her light; yet he never blinked or looked away. His lips met her smooth face and his skin burned where it touched hers, burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off…yet he never pulled away. He wrapped his arms around her insubstantial body, fingering the long, elegant chain that dangled from her neck. It was impossible for him to disengage from her, but although tears ran down his cheeks and his lips were on fire, he was happy in the knowledge that they would never, ever part.

He was still like that when the neighbors found him, three days later. His body wasn’t even cold...and the light of her bulb still shone from beneath his blackened lips, burning as hot as the day they first met.

Re-reading it for typos, very time I get to burned until it blistered, until he felt like his lips were melting off I start laughing hysterically...I can't help it.

Oh by Pallas Athene, I laughed so hard I sneezed! Bleedin' hilarious m'Lady DRider, bleedin' hilarious. You are one twisted person, I'm glad to call you my almost - triplet.

@Vespe:



Another one influenced by looking in the permissions thread:



You asked for it, buddy.

Unique/Curly

Queen of the Stars

Spoiler

Show

Damn, the chain was heavy.

I struggled to lift it. I wanted to free him; I wanted to help him shed the awful weight that bound him for all eternity. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried one more time.

The voice rumbled forth.

“Who enters my prison? Show yourself!”

I jumped to attention. “My lord!” It came out squeaky. He shifted and the earth shook; I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground. My head hit a rock and I lay there, dazed, staring up at the black ceiling.

“Manwë! What foul trick might this be? I tell thee now: show thyself or I will smite thee, bound though I am by this accursed chain!”

I sat up. My head still spun and I threw out a hand to catch myself.

“Manwë!” bellowed Morgoth once more. “Manwë! I curse thee and all thy children. Because of thee and thy offspring I was bound here, condemned to sleep under the weight of Angainor; because of thee, I sit in this dark prison. Answer me!”

“It is I,” I said, finding my voice at last; “I, not Manwë, who comes. I am here to free you, to break Angainor, to end your imprisonment….”

A hand fell on my arm. I jumped and turned.

“Who…?”

“Unique, child of men. Why come you to this place? What evil drew you here that you might be ensnared by foul Melkor and his wicked ways?”

I gaped. “Wh-wh-who…?”

“I have many different names in the languages of men and elves. I am Varda Elentári to some, Elbereth Gilthoniel to others, Queen of the stars; you might know me as CurlyKitGirl.”

I fell back under her stare. “B-b-but you hate Tolkien! What are you doing here? It is my task to break Angainor and end Morgoth’s imprisonment!”

“That might be your task,” she said, taking my arm. “Mine is to remove you and your thrice-cursed Lord of the Rings from this thread, in which no ‘ship’ but the ‘ship’ of the Playgrounder—not that of Eärendil—belongs.”

I cast one last glance back at Morgoth; he let out a long, mournful wail and then fell silent. I swallowed hard and looked ahead, knowing that my own torture and imprisonment would be long and painful; Morgoth’s was nothing in comparison to the punishment I would receive for bringing J.R.R. Tolkien into the Shipping thread.

Tolkein was brought into my thread.
Tolkein.
And yet, for once, I find myself tolerating his presence because my reaction to it is perfect. I love the atmosphere, the style with which you wrote this piece; and especially the end. For Unique's little premonition is so true.

[Dallas-Dakota]

DR : 1 I don´t snore, I love the role, yet it doesn´t fit me... I do love that fic however.

Tolkein was brought into my thread.
Tolkein.
And yet, for once, I find myself tolerating his presence because my reaction to it is perfect. I love the atmosphere, the style with which you wrote this piece; and especially the end. For Unique's little premonition is so true.

Seconded from the moment that Curly will spell Tolkien right instead of Tolkein....
Love it.

*figures he should sometime write another fic*

[Dragonrider]

DR : 1 I don´t snore, I love the role, yet it doesn´t fit me... I do love that fic however.

Now, how do you know that?

[Helgraf]

Awww, I loved the Prequels/sequels to the Shipping Inc.
And, Cala, that was super cute =3

I have a question for an upcoming fic. I need a henchman. A henchman who will talk back to incompetent Villain Rabbit (and, no, there is no romance implied there; infact, I'm not even part of the pairing)

Talking back to incompetants? Do I dare live out the American Dream?

[RabbitHoleLost]

Ahhh, I found my henchman last night, but thanks, guys!
And, when I post this, remember, folks; I'm awful at humor.
There will be so much sarcasm its going to hurt.

[Mordokai]

Bring it on Rabbit! After associating with Cristo and some other folk from around here as well as in real life, I believe my sarcasm limit is set pretty high.