Katzaniel

In fact, given the equation mathematicians have found that using does not change the result until at least the 198th decimal place. Master P is also cool because he does not push his advice on anyone, but is willing to give it when asked, and he knows absolutely everything about everything. Or nearly.

I saw the Weakerthans, my favourite band, in concert last Tuesday. I loved being able to hear all of their songs and watch the band in action. Their live music did not differ very much at all from their recorded stuff, which makes me happy because it always annoys me when I can't sing along in my head because they've changed the sound of a song. Also, they had two shows: An all-ager and a no-minors, which was very thoughtful of them. Unfortunately, their sound people were, in my personal opinion, terrible. They treated the concert like their own private radio, turning it up every time it reached a point they liked, and very rarely turning it down. Also considering the small size of the room, it was soon so loud that the clever lyrics could barely be made out (for one who knew them already) and there was some sort of constant feedback going on. We could feel ourselves going deaf. We decided to listen to the rest of it outside the room and enjoyed it better there. Also, I got a shirt, badge and sticker for $18 CD and two of them autographed the sticker for me. Yay!

I'm bringing this back up from the depths of this room, since this is one of the stories I intend to continue this summer, and I have already partially revived it with one post. So just in case people want to comment on it, I don't want them accidentally creating a new thread. And, now that I've found it, I wonder why I never commented on Tanny's suggestions. Bad Katz! Bad Katz! I'll address one point now, hopefully the others later. This comment on lack of description actually being good intrigues me. If that were the case, I wouldn't have to fix nearly as much! Also, since at the moment I do intend to have Anthony become more aware of real life by the end (less, and then more) that would work well. Since I've never been very good at describing things, I'd really be stretching my creative writing muscles to intentionally leave out much description, lessen it, and then increase it again, but maybe by the time I get there I'll be up to it. Speaking of the end, I should mention something that may come as a warning as well as an opportunity... I haven't quite decided how to end it yet. Looks slightly abashed. Well, I do have a few endings in mind, but they all seem either corny, unbelievable, too sad, or not conclusive enough. So if I get past all the planned events I do have (which I'm sure will also increase in number as I get to know Anthony better) and still have not decided on an ending, perhaps you can all help me decide on an ending. I'll outline my proposed endings and the pros/cons and ask for opinions, suggestions, ideas, et cetera. So... now you know my deep dark secret. Anyway, gotta zoom!

This poem might be long, but it doesn't seem that way. Caught me right up. I'm not sure what you mean by "jumpy" but I did feel that the line "The lands washed in blood making a macabre mix of mud" stuck out as too long. Of course, that's coming from another with no real training in writing, a fellow engineer. (Which discipline you in? Me, I'm software with a lot of electrical background.) Also I have no real suggestion for that, like Peredhil had. Well, maybe "make" instead of "making" would help? Oh, one solid suggestion I did have, for the line "The dead have their needs but want not for greed." It didn't rhyme quite as well because needs is plural, so maybe you could simply say "The dead have a need..."? Overall, lookin' good! Edit: Hmm, about that first line, maybe it could be better if lengthened, such as "Our shores are frail but to it black ships sail" Regarding your question of the dream-like quality, I think it's hard to say because I'm expecting a dream right from the start due to the title. It would be hard to read it again and determine whether I'd have felt that same quality without the title or not. With it, though, I certainly did.

As the days pass, Anthony finds more and more things that he is capable of doing. He can alter information in a database simply by being on a site that connects to it. He can search through vast amounts of data in a very small amount of time, coming up with whatever picture, website, chatline, or even IP address that he has in mind. He can monitor a chatline without actually being on it. Mindful always of how important it is not to appear as a stalker, Cyberman actually has the potential to be the most efficient and well-resourced stalker ever. Resisting the temptation to search Angel_A's computer, he instead hovers over the chatline until she logs on, then waits about half an hour. Anthony is fairly pacing the lightpaths in impatience, carefully watching someone's computer clock click by the seconds until at nearly 26 minutes he can no longer stand the waiting. He manifests his presence. She wasn't planning on staying long, it turns out, but is willing to stay to talk to him. Anthony hopes he isn't imagining the eagerness. Angel_A asks where he's been for the last few days, and he indicates that he's been busy, doing work, and only been able to log on a few times. He expresses a fraction of the regret he really feels that he hasn't met up with her. They talk again, this time about less serious things. She'd seen a good movie the night before. He'd read a good book. He had, actually, but of course he didn't tell her that he had found it online and discovered that he could absorb its contents in a few minutes of reading. All too soon she excuses herself, though. Her mother is calling her. Cyberman tries not to follow the line to her computer, but his is was weak. He desperately wants to know that she is going because she has to, not because she's grown tired of him, or he'd pressed too hard or not hard enough. He hesitates only a moment before plunging himself through the lightpaths and into her machine. There he waits painstaking moments as she exits the chatline, then closes the internet connection, saves and closes a word document that he barely manages not to read, and then logs off the computer. Shutdown a moment later, and he is left in blackness to celebrate. Edit: I can't get through a single post without reverting to third person! Edit 2: Hmm, not sure where that came from, I meant without reverting to past tense.

The sun sets over the Pen Keep, and Melba dusts Wyvern, who has been sleeping and scheming in his chair all day long. (This might go some ways to explaining why he is unaware of Lieutenant Wink's presence in his office the night before.) Snorting the dust out of his nose, he wakes up. "Hey, get outta here, can't an Almost Dragon sleep in his own office?" "Can't an Almost Secretary dust in her own office?" The two try to stare each other down until a loud bang rattles the building. They glance toward the noise in unison, and then stare as an object is thrown through the window. Then Melba runs into Wyvern trying to reach the exit, and Wyvern pushes her, and she knocks him over. Wyvern lies sprawled against the wall, lightheaded and wobbling slightly. He watches the bomb for a moment before it occurs to him that he should try to get out. His slow brain coupled with his unresponsive muscles mean that he is still just within range of the bomb when it goes off, propelling him out the door and into yet another wall. Staggering, he manages to walk down the hallway a few feet before falling face-first onto the floor.

"Large and yellow," Yui was saying to Salinye that same afternoon. "Spherical. I'm certain it was female, because there were cartoonish lips. And she seemed to have some problem with one eye." Salinye laughed. "Well, I'm sure we'll be introduced when Wyvern gets around to the application. Pity she didn't stay around to wait like most applicants do, she sounds like a real character. I wonder what the pictures were for." Yui shrugged. "Fancies herself a tourist, perhaps. Anyway, nice talking to you, but I have to go set up the next Pen Recommends votes. See you around." "Sure thing, Yui." Salinye stands up. "I should get back to Katzaniel on a Guild issue she was mentioning the other day, anyway." The two leave, and each tells another about the newest soon-to-be-Initiate, and the story spreads. Somehow, though, it never does get to the busy Wyvern.

OOC: Thank you, YanYan... I hope it doesn't disappoint! IC: "Mission successful," reports Lieutenant Wink early the next morning, handing General Grin a file. He opens it and looks over the photographs of various items, including multiple get-rich-quick schemes and one of Door, whose bright smile is unnoticeable to their eyes. The file also includes a blueprint of the Office, which the General immediately lays out on the table, eyes sparkling. "Perfect, Lieutenant," he fairly purrs, already grabbing coloured pins and placing them around the map. "Get the Colonels in here when you go, please." Lieutenant Wink sees the telltale signs that the General has receded into his own world and leaves, tagging Rolleyes and Unsure on her way out. "He wants to see you," she laughs, smirking at them.

"And make sure he doesn't see you," says General Grin unnecessarily. The subject of his admonition nods and slips away. The General peers into the darkness, muttering to himself about overconfident inferiors. That night, a shadow makes its way across the tender grass leading to the Recruitment Office. Lieutenant Wink ducks into a corner as Melba leaves for the night. She nearly cringes at the amount of noise the Almost-Secretary makes, but correctly assumes that this is normal for the huge woman. When the disruption passes, Lieutenant Wink continues her stealthy journey toward the Office. Door watches as the spy sneaks in, but it's so used to odd strangers that it exhibits nothing but silent amusement at the antics of one who looks so much like the icon from the Mrs. Pac-Man game. Lieutenant Wink gathers the information she needs, tosses at Wyvern's desk a few applications that are intended to distract him but which are in actual fact never found, and makes her assumed-to-be-secret escape. Yui watches her leave, just as amused as Door, and continues on her way to the Minstrel Hall. OOC: To be continued, I hope.

This is different from crypt's game, as from what I understand the word does not have to start the poem, or even be in the poem. If that's the case, what's wrong with two games? Present Now. Now what? Just now. Then. There? No, then. Do I live in the now, and tear down the others, Do I enjoy to the fullest, and wrestle my brothers? Can I love life's game, and never another? Or maybe live in the then, desiring to my past, Wishing for those days, letting life fly by fast, Looking over my shoulder at what has just passed? Or live in the future, hoping for new things, Seeing with narrow vision the possible anythings, Always working toward some specific somethings? Maybe I can live in the now, Helping others and showing them how, Maybe I can live in the then, Enjoying my past and remembering when, Maybe I can look to the future, Setting goals and seeing them mature, Maybe I can be a combination of these, Taking all the good and none of the fleas. Now. Now what? Now... be. New word: Jump

It's Friday! Yay! Now I just have to make it to four o'clock. I have been working so many hours straight on this project, my eyes are beginning to blur... But it's due at four. /me looks at the clock, meeps and gets back to work.

Free electorns, huh? * Thinks of many interesting things that that could mean if it didn't so obviously mean electrons * Almost a pity that crypt already declared his limit at Tanny's.

Hmm, malevolence. You'll have trouble finding any true malevolence in Horace. Although she's a demon and tries very hard to please Lucifer, she's kind of got this wacky sense that, "Oh, Lucifer wouldn't support that sort of behaviour." Needless to say she's not his most helpful servant, although she does try. Lots of mischief, go ahead, but true malevolence, I hope you can avoid. (Of course, if you simply have to, it's all right. Just trying to give you a better sense of her.)

OOC: Laughing (guiltily) at poor crypt... IC: Inbi Infusco had been hearing excited murmurs around the Pen Keep lately. As far as she could tell, there was something going on involving free magic items. That was kind of strange, as magic was as expensive as it was feared in other parts of the world, but it did seem that magic-users were wide-spread here. She engaged in conversation with a few strangers (not knowing very many of the folk here, yet) until she was directed to the Cabaret Room. Or rather, since the Cabaret Room was the best place for gathering information and she was already there, she was directed to the message board along one wall. An interesting proposition, she thought, wondering what sort of a quill might be quested after in this manner, and what benefits it brought its bearer. Nevertheless, it looked to be a harmless affair, and many had already signed up, including a name or two that she recognized. She added her name to the sheet, hoping for an item rather than a spell. OOC: I'm assuming your magic scroll recorded your initial speech

You missed the smilie from 17. In fact, if anything, I would have assumed the smilie was the topic suggestion. PS. Good luck

Ooh, sounds like fun. How 'bouts a paranoid musician?

I will remember this the next time I have a headache... a unique description for an all too familiar feeling. I love your poems, Ayshela, and do hope now that you have this thread you'll post them more often.

Well, at the very least your sickness brought a hearty giggle to my day. This was awesome. Get well soon! And then write about your victory over those evil ailments.

Grasshopper listened to the speech from her kneeling position, in front and to the left of Orin. She noticed that he made eye contact with each as he spoke of them, and lowered her eyes slightly as his gaze fell upon her. Then he moved on, and she allowed herself to watch his face again. "So this is the man who would avert a war through us," she thought. The God would approve, she knew this instinctively, and so approved herself. In fact, this was exactly the type of philosophy that the Shumidan taught. Still listening to Orin, half of Jade's mind was reciting the litany upon which she was accepted to the ranks of those monks. "A few well-chosen battles may end a war, several selective fights may end a battle, and one good hit may end a fight." It was expressed in terms of battle, and the Shumidan learned thoroughly the ways of battle, but the philosophy extended to all parts of life. It was why she was here at this moment, in a hundred different ways, and it was why she would do everything in her power to make this mission a success. The man finished, and gave them leave to go. Grasshopper rose, gave a short nod that Orin never noticed, and left. She found herself immediately behind Merlyn as the six of them filed out. Strange how she had never remarked anything special of this man. She knew him - had served beside and then under him - but had not paid him any special attention. Well, she would now. And the others. Jade had listened to the reasons for selection of each, but they were already slipping from her memory. A tactician, an infiltrator. It had sounded like a well-spread list. Her superiors had chosen well. Once outside of the room, there was a brief pause. They all looked at each other, and most of them smiled, but no one spoke. Words could carry back inside, thought Jade, and probably they all had their own goodbyes to make, so she shrugged apologetically and left. One looked at her curiously, another with superiority. She decided she would have to watch the second one. Getting outside, Grasshopper considered her options. She knew this day would drag out long for her, as she had few friends in this place and had packed everything the night before. She decided to go to a nearby tavern, the Red Yeti, which she knew would be at least half full even at this time of the day. There she could get a drink or two and, more importantly, catch up on the latest news before departing.

"Whoa, whoa! This is Tanuchan's birthday?" Katz disengages from the shadows of the Cabaret room, from where she usually watches the birthday celebrations, and comes over to the pedestal. Shaking her friend's hand vigourously, she overhears a few others mentioning an anniversary. "Oho! The anniversary, as well! Deepest congratulations to the two of you."

I can illuminate one thing: "It's payday today." Although I find it hilarious that "sick in bed" is rendered "bad in bed" in England, it's almost as bad as saying "Can I bum a fag?" which some English girls I know have insisted is never actually never said. Of course, they can only really speak for their specific region of England. Anyway, thanks for this Cerulean, it's pretty hilarious! And Wyvern... How does one articulate better than hilarious?

Yeah, close: Super callused fragile mystic hexed with halitosis.

You asked us to add our own, so here's a groaner I heard this morning: What might you call a rather frail old guru with callused feet and bad breath?

Oooh! Oooh! I think I finally got one! 11) Grape gripe (or vice versa)

Thank you very much, Wyvie, I'd been feeling like no one was reading it. Regarding your comment on the "unexpected death", I'm not telling yet, although some may have predicted the outcome. Regarding the potential improvements, that is a very interesting comment to me, because I had been trying very hard to do precisely that! I think I can understand the difference between what you recommend and what I did/tried to do, though: I wanted to show, via the course of his thoughts, how he was arrogant and power-hungry, cunning yet abusing. How he understands power but misplaces it in certain ways. And I believe I did that, without ever having to directly say anything of the sort. But you would suggest that instead of showing his thoughts, I show his actions? Without falling back on the "we've only ten posts!" excuse, I would still like to defend my choice - and, of course, to hear whether or not I've convinced you. Ra'laerin is a very complex character, as I attempt to let all my characters be. Much of what there is to know about him lies beneath the surface. If one were to watch the man throughout his entire lifetime of actions, one might gather his arrogance, his cunning, everything I mentioned above. But you wouldn't get the same feel for it, the same understanding of his choices, and especially the taste that this vampire is not evil, he simply wants more than he deserves. How could I show why he sits as he does on the throne, when no one is going to notice it but he? How could I show his contempt of Fer-tas, when Ra'laerin is not about to confide in anyone, and is not going to have a chance to see him again for some posts yet, if at all? How do I go about showing that he doesn't want to demote one of his guard, that he sees it as folly but unavoidable, when he would never admit as much to anybody? That is all. Please, please let me know if I've misinterpreted your comment, and, if not, if and how you think I can go about improving it. Thank you again for taking the time to read and reply!