Katzaniel

Not that I understand what's going on or anything... Ayshela, Ayshela, A jolly good fella. She's such a bella, Ayshela, Ayshela. Her stories are neat, Steel boots on her feet. She can never be beat, Aysela's so neat. This does no justice To her awesomeness. But I hope she has bliss Many days beyond this.

First off, I'll tell you all that I know my description isn't up to par. In fact, it's far far worse. Just rereading my previous work in this story is enough to make me see so many places where I could improve that. All Anthony's friends are faceless, we have no idea what kind of car he drives, we find out so little about his parents and his previous relationships, which are hinted at. However, this is something that can wait while I get the story down. I mean, I will need to go through at one point and rehaul the whole thing anyway or there will be a huge discrepancy from the quality of writing at the beginning to the end, so I can elaborate then. Right now I need mostly to whip mysef into writing often enough to get the story down. That said, I would like to hear feedback about other aspects of the story that need improving of which I may not already be aware. Whether I decide to work on fixing it right away I can't say, but please feel free to tell me whenever you think of it. Thank you! Katz

Upon awakening, Anthony lies staring at the ceiling for a long time before moving. He feels more refreshed than he has in recent months, and that in itself is a strange feeling. Guilt comes to him for feeling good, but he knows in the back of his mind that it is about time he came to grips with it. With their deaths, he affirms to himself. He should not be ashamed to think the words, either. Going back even past the accident, Anthony realizes just how long it had been since he had ever enjoyed himself so much. Last night, he had connected with people that, though somewhere across the globe, understood him better than his friends ever had. He had laughed and chatted with them, and they had enjoyed his company. Anthony knew now that he had put too much priority on his work and for too long. Since he had already lost all of his current clients, it was a prime opportunity to take a little vacation. Getting up now, he makes his bed, showers, makes some toast. He considers calling his friends, but even Josh whom he had known since elementary school did not understand Anthony. No, he would go back to the chatroom and talk to the friends he had met last night. Without the trepidation he had previously experienced, Anthony sits down at his desk and presses the power button. Instantly the darkness is around him, but he feels lighter than air. He really feels like he belongs here. Down the lightpaths he travels, reaching a computer that is on. The person is not on the internet, though. Should he open it up, or find someone with their browser already open? Anthony is suddenly aware that last night, he had decided to leave only after all the original users had left. What had happened to the person whose computer he was using? Hadn't they noticed that the chatline was still open after they had disconnected? There must be a way to get online without actually opening the window, and this must have been what happened previously without his realizing. Concentrating, the young man succeeds in finding a connection. Like a beacon, the internet lies before him, bright and exciting. Vast and ready to be explored, full of databases like treasure troves of knowledge, the internet was everything he had ever wanted. Behind the scenes of the actual computer, and doing this consciously for the first time, Anthony feels powerful. Fighting down the feeling, he realizes that he should be able to do this on any internet capable machine. And since he had opened and altered files on his own computer while it was powered down, he should be able to connect to the internet from there as well. So he moves back to his own terminal and finds the world wide web once more. Unburdened from his body, he soon discovers that surfing the net really feels like surfing. Anthony flies across the links and into the depths of information and games like Spiderman flies across Manhattan. Cyberman he truly is. Resting, he absentmindedly sorts through some chat lines, considering which one to join. Altering his description to "recently broken up", he settles for one called "Karaoke Singles Bar". The karaoke was a bit of a joke, but every so often someone would relate a line from a song into the conversation and everyone would laugh. Very quickly, Cyberman notices Angel_A. She is nice to everyone, and has a great sense of humour. She likes his jokes as much as he likes hers, and he soon finds himself in a private message with her, discussing religion and politics and other topics normally taboo for a first date. She has her own opinions and some of them differ from his own, but he feels that he really connects with her and they have many of the same core values. All too soon, though, she excuses herself, saying she has to be up early the next day, but will she find him on another day? Yes. Absolutely yes, though he doesn't show his enthusiasm quite that much. He knows that he can't scare her off by being too eager, especially on the internet he must not come across as a stalker. And so, though he settles down to a routine of sleeping two or three hours, eating one meal, entering his computer to work for an hour or two and surfing for the remainder of every day, he doesn't return to that chat line for nearly a week.

Muchly happy for all you, and much deserved all round. I'd say "Especially..." except that I'd end up listing just about all of you. Since I've gotten to know Tanny the most, I'll give her special mention but "Yaaay!" for each.

Gee whiz, getting put into lists when I say I'm not in, getting left out when I say I am... Foolish, I'm in on this one. Not gonna drop out just cause Jamz isn't modding. I would love a chance at playing Jaqui again, and I think I would do so either way. Although, in the high school setting she will be a lot less bitter now that Arianne will have some influence in her life. I'd have to think on whether I want to play her as she was at the start or end of it for the ball, since I didn't get much chance to play her. Cat was another one that I wouldn't mind another crack at, if we get too many of the highschool chars (although it doesn't look like we will).

I finally did one properly. I think. The beetle puffed and panted its way up the steep slope of the stone's slimy surface, praying that the peak would presently be achieved. The stone sweated in the sun, little droplets of water obstructing the poor insect's path. PS. Like all the s's and p's?

Just in case he doesn't come back right away, I've hunted it down... Main If that doesn't work, copy and paste: http://www.geocities.com/atma_sliver/ Click to go in, click on "Artwork", then you can view whichever of his many pics he was trying to hide from us! Haha! Actually, even the self-described worst ones aren't bad. Way to go BPO. (Oh dear... that rhymed... I'm sorry!)

Me! Me! I'll be happy to step back from the responsibility of keeping things moving, at which I failed horribly. Whatever Jamz thinks up, I'm sure I'll be in.

Everyone turned to Rena, and she began backing away. "It's Mike, can't you see that? Why are you all after me?" Napolean and Jammeez glanced at each other, and Napolean said, "If the hostage will not admit to her wrongdoings, we must apply some force." Jammeez grinned and pushed the woman onto the floor. Rena struggled but her opponent was much stronger. "Admit it, you killed Lamont, the only one who was willing to get close to you! You killed Dustin, you killed those nurses..." "No, no, you're making a big mistake!" "I made a mistake by letting you live so long!" Napolean calmly stepped on Rena's palm and started pressing down. Eyremon forgot all about his suspicion of Jammeez and stepped on her other hand. Mike just stood there and watched it all. Rena stared at him, her eyes getting wider at the pain, but kept looking at Mike. "There are some pills under my pillow in the corner of the room," she wailed. "Just try giving them to him, you'll see the difference. It can't be Eyremon, they didn't work on him... it's not Jammeez, that's just as obvious. Please, just try it!" Napolean and Eyremon ignored her speech. Anything that wasn't confession was useless. Jammeez looked doubtful, but the killer might say the same. Most of it sounded like random insanity anyway. Rena had always been the most insane of all of them here. "No, no, no...." she repeated, the syllables becoming more strained as the pressure grew. Eyremon began to lift up his foot and aim down, fairly jumping on her open palm. Rena tried to move it, but Jammeez held both arms down on the floor. "You're a murderer!" she shouted. "You're trying to remove the people you think are after you!" "They are after me," Rena whimpered. "He's after us all." "The hostage will not tell the truth," muttered Napolean. He grabbed Rena's pillow, not even noticing the bottle of pills that fell to the floor, and pushed it over her face. He held down on it. When he lifted it up, Rena had tears down her face, but gasping for breath she only said, "Jammeez, you have to listen. It's Mike, he may have corrupted..." the pillow went down again, this time for longer. Jammeez looked at Napolean, his brows furrowed in concentration. She let go of Rena's arms, stood up. Eyremon took her place, though, and the slowly suffocating woman struggled in vain to stand, to beat off the two men. Mike just kept watching. Jammeez looked at Mike, uncertain what to do. When the pillow came up, Rena gasped and choked. "He killed them, he's killing me," she sputtered before Napolean sighed in exasperation and pushed the pillow down again. "Why will the hostage not admit to her crimes?" he said to the room in general. He kept suffocating her long past the last point, and Jammeez looked at him in horror. "Let her breathe!" she said, but when she went to stop him, Mike grabbed her. Jammeez struggled much longer than Rena did. "It wasn't her at all, was it?" she said angrily. "She was telling the truth about you." Mike caught her fist before she could get him in the face. "Yes, those pills may have stopped me. But they would have messed with my mind, and like you, who are also trying to stop me, they must be disposed of. My revenge on this Institution must not be interupted, even for you." With a quick movement, he snapped her neck. Napolean finally removed the pillow from Rena's face, but she remained still. Eyremon, straddling her prone form, looked at the pills. "They could have stopped this war?" Napolean went still. "A stop to the war?" Napolean stood up and went to the corner, reaching for the bottle. "Yes, Napolean," said Mike. "You help me get rid of this traitor, and then the war will stop." "But you have to take the pills, Mike," Napolean answered earnestly. "I'll do that." With that promise exacted, Napolean tackled Eyremon, and the two fought. They were probably even in strength, but Eyremon wasted his energy to provide sound effects and ran around a few times pretending to be a heavily armed vehicle. Napolean overpowered him and suffocated him as well. "The last enemy is removed!" he gleefully claimed. Then, more solemnly, "The victory supper is in that bottle, Mike." "The pills would undo us, Napolean." "We must toast the end of the war." "We can toast it when we win." "The pills. They'll end it." Mike grew frustrated. Napolean was not planning on helping him at all. He picked up the bottle and withdrew one pill. Then he walked over to his former companion. "Open your mouth," he trebled, holding the white capsule so that Napolean, still kneeling over Eyremon, had to look upward. Mike grabbed his chin and before the man could struggle, snapped his neck as well. "I guess that's it," he said, and stood by the door so he could exact his revenge. He waited for hours before any of the orderlies finally came to deal with this group of dangerous lunatics. They marched into the room with food trays and surveyed the carnage. Mike ran from the room when they had passed through the doorway, but one of them ran and caught him. They tangled, but more nurses came and helped, and they managed to sedate Mike. He was later strapped to his bed so that he could not move, and was much later diagnosed with Lupus Anomolous, a relatively new disease that had made him, at certain times, much more violent, and at others forget everything he'd done while under its influence. He had affected Napolean, and though they treated Mike and removed the virus, he had also infected the nurses who had grappled with him. The disease tore its way through the ranks of the institution and Mike's revenge, whether he still wanted it or not, was complete. OOC: This scene might end up being rewritten as it would probably be done better after communication with the wolves, but I figure you guys waited long enough for it. Sorry about that. So... the game is over, the wolves won. Yup. Edit: Spelling/stuff.

Well, Celes and I have been discussing about how to properly gather all the information about people into one place. This could just be another thing that went into that place. ie) The quizzes and answers. Or the link to the quiz and then the answers. Or am I misunderstanding you?

I'm not reading up first either. What I'm really shamed about is getting 20 on the Dreamer... the day after interviewing him!!! And I'm really enjoying the results of the EVIL quiz. Purely for fun, of course, but it gives an interesting look at how people think about things.

Apparently Salinye doesn't care if we're single or not. IC I'm with Tyrion from the Love Note thread (Sal claims it didn't count, it was a just-for-fun thread...), OOC I'm with Tam (who I know will understand) but she made me bid anyway... And she doesn't even care that I'm (Katz, that is) not quite all female! Lucky bachelor that I win, I'll tell you that. Katz goes off grumbling. At any rate it'll make good RP.

I really hate to stretch this out so long, but come on you guys there's only two official votes in. You can do better than that! I guess I'll give you another day and cut it off whether there's more votes or not.

That's a pity... I saved the graveyard pic 'cause I'd been thinking of writing on it (though nothing came to mind) but not the bowl. Anyway... The wind rustled the leaves of the majestic wooden pillars and the grass bowed in awe. The trees had stood in that spot for well over three centuries and anyone who looked upon them was immediately struck with their own inconsequentiality. The diminutive sorceress was the first in two hundred years to enter the forest and not fall on their knees in front of the two trees. Each one stood some hundred times her height but she only looked up at their height and grinned. The wind howled, distressed and shamed at the woman’s tenacity and the bushes shivered in fear. The trees themselves only watched in curiosity, however, as the magic wielding gnome levitated herself along the great trunks. Rising to their tops, well above the general ceiling of the forest, the woman gestured and a portal opened between the columns. For another moment after the gnome disappeared, the forest was still. The wind waited breathlessly, the grass stood up and brushed itself off, only the bushes whispered to each other, their voices echoing along the silent pillars. When the sorceress reappeared, she was gripping an unconscious gnome in princely robes, and she hastily cast the levitate spell to bring them down evenly to the gravel path. As they descended, a tiny dragon flew out, little puffs of smoke weaving their way into the clouds from its nostrils. The two gnomes approached the earth more rapidly now, and the dragon in its disorientation was late in reaching the forest roof. Once the sorceress hit the ground and began irreverently running, the dragon gave up, for the trees all held out their branches to block it from reaching the hero who had braved the wrath of the mighty trunks. The wind resumed its angry song and the bushes stood up in fierce defense. It wasn’t long before the dragon, puffing in disappointment, returned through the portal and the forest went to sleep once more. Edit: WOW, cryptomancer. I just now read your post, and it is incredible.

Mwahaha! Haha!

You guys are setting a hard precedent for yourself. If there's stuff I need to change, make me change it! I know I am bad for neglecting physical descriptions, so even though you've already accepted me, let me know if this is better, okay? This tale really began when a young woman met and fell in love with a very old man. She was generally agreed to be very pretty, and he had the rugged charm that many older men do. Although people accused the girl of being naive, she proclaimed that she recognized this as true love, better than most people had ever found. Within a day they had happily wed, and together they conceived a child. Fate had tragedy in store for them, though, for less than a week after their first meeting the man had a heart attack and died. The girl bore the child, but mourned heavily throughout the pregnancy. Life had become a chore. When a boy was finally born, she named him Chronos after the entity that she perceived had caused her so much grief. She set him on her parent's doorstep with instructions to look after him but never to reveal the sad history of his birth. No one ever saw her again, and it was largely assumed that she had resorted to suicide. Chronos was raised believing that his grandparents were his birth parents, but was frustrated that he was never told the reasoning behind his name. As he aged he grew ever more obsessed with time and by the time he reached the age of 22 he had decided he wanted to be immortal. He was a tall and handsome young man with many skills, but he left home and spent the next 15 yeors of his life researching the subject, travelling the globe and collecting even the most arcane of knowledge. Much of it, he knew, was useless, but he persisted, and he soon decided that he knew everything he could learn from others. Now the talented Chronos would put his own hands to the task. He created a laboratory for himself in a remote mountain village, where many of his needed supplies would be close at hand. The townspeople marked him easily as a hermit and left him alone to his research. Although he did not notice, they at least admired the beautiful plant varieties growing in his yard, and remarked to themselves how handsome he was in his middle age. The determined man ignored almost everything but his work, confining himself within cold white walls. He quickly narrowed his list down to about one useful fact for every ten things he had learned, but he was not discouraged. After mixing and testing rare materials for another ten years, Chronos actually succeeded in stopping time. He aged, though, while no one else moved, and though the progress spurned him to work harder and longer, he grew frustrated and uncertain. It was a failure, and after making extensive notes on the few successful aspects of his methods, he trashed the aparatus he had used, recognizing it as a pointless side-path to his real goal. Time passed and began to relentlessly tear at his health. Getting desperate, Chronos tried forging a ring with elements of everything he had learned. Though the wearer of the ring could affect time in a multitude of ways, Chronos considered it, too, a defeat because it could not prevent aging or death. It did have one aspect useful to his search, however, and that was slowing the physical world with respect to his mind, allowing for more compact movements that better used the time he had available. The now haggard gentleman slept less often now, for he felt rested sooner, and he used the ring in this way for many years, creating and testing new hypotheses at every waking moment. Unfortunately, though, the much needed inspiration avoided him until he was a very ancient man. When it came to him during a now rare hour of sleep, in the form of a dream, he knew even without testing it that the method would work. He was right, but no one ever knew it, for he was killed by excitement of the long-awaited discovery. Celes, I expanded the description about the death a little, but I see it as a sidestory to the real point of the piece, so I hope you don't mind that I avoided giving details. Ayshela, I realized that I hadn't really described the point of wearing the ring at all, so I hope this is better. Also, I added some general descriptions and rephrased a couple of points. PS. You don't have to hurry at getting back to me, I realize I'm taking up your time at a busy time. (Chronos can wait... ).

/me quickly redirects Kunax to the thread in which I asked the very same question. There may be others, but I knew of this one.

By the way, it seems that max on mine is 50. Lucky it's a round number, I didn't count at all.

I know I failed just about everyone's... But here's mine, and it's kind of evil I'd say. So enjoy.

This is just a reminder to make sure votes are official in an OOC. Jammeez/Eyremon I don't want to assume either way, so if you've made your vote, edit it in please! Enjoying the RP, keep it coming. And who's doing WWIX?

Well, I figured yours out. But I was embarassed to say this: * Whispers just like Xaious did, I'm not sure, but I think I know who I am too!

What I write in english will hopefully be the secondary concern. Obviously when I wrote it I wasn't paying too much attention to syllables but I'm much more aware of that now, and don't want to edit it too far away from that.. (at least I'm staying between 6 and 11 ) and the rhyme is the most important part, it needs to rhyme in french. Nevertheless, a rough translation (the original version): It wasn't long ago When my father and mother Took my friends and myself We travelled to my cabin. We walked on stilts, And went swimming in the water. We roasted hot dogs And went on a boat. We used the inner tube, And we had a lot of fun. I jumped in the lake, then I lost my glasses. (as in, jumping in the lake resulted in losing the glasses) It does look pretty boring, doesn't it? As for your edits... a) Absolutely. I doubt I would have noticed that, but it seems obvious now. Thank you. Also, I wouldn't have known that one could remove "que" and still have it work. I'm a little lost on this. If you changed the tense, isn't that a big deal? And what's wrong with fewer syllables in that line? c) I take it I used some words wrong on these? d) So even when completing an already started sentence, you don't start with "et"? Unfortunately by changing that, we add to the repetition, and I don't think it's good repetition here. Could we just remove the "nous avons" from this line and start is right at "aussi", or it that taboo as well? It would help the syllable count at any rate. e) I wish there was a way to hear you pronouncing it. While I know my spoken french is horrible, when I say it, it's the same... As for the "ensuite", I agree wholeheartedly. It really begs for something interesting, there if nowhere else. I will take a second look at rephrasing some things, maybe redoing some lines entirely (especially the last paragraph, which could certainly tell the tale better), but not today or tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know that I am interested in working on this. Thanks!

Teq picked up the practise sword and grinned at his son, who was hefting his own blade. Teq's wife Wellin watched from the side, cheering for both of them. "Three, two, one, go," she said, and the fight was on. Llassar made a wide slash at his father and as he concentrated on the battle, time slowed for Teq. He easily ducked the first swing and then made a few playful jabs at Llassar, to give him a chance to learn how to block, before winning the fight with a jab to the chest. Time returned to normal and Wellin congratulated Teq. The man had been practising sword fighting for almost as long as he'd been married and was trying to teach the sport to his son, who was eager but as yet unskilled. There was the promise of potential but the boy had much to learn. "Again?" said Teq, and Llassar nodded. However, just then a tremor shook the house. "What was that?" queried a concerned Wellin. Teq told her to stay where she was; he'd check it out. Grabbing his real sword he ran to the front door and peered out. Havoc seemed to have taken over the street. Creatures were flying through the air and houses all around them were on fire. As he stood there the house shook again, harder. Part of the ceiling began to splinter. He turned and shouted to his wife and son, discovering that Llassar was right with him, staring at the destruction. Not having time to chide the boy, he grabbed him and ran to his wife, not knowing where he would take them but knowing he had to do something. But before he could get there, the house shuddered a third time, and the roof in front of him caved in. A creature came in from the opening and flew at him. He slashed at it, but another followed. This one was convered in flame and the wood around the hole ignited. They flew out as quickly as in but the damage had been done, for when Teq tried to jump over the bits of ceiling a burning chunk came down and Llassar shouted. Teq realized that his son had been hit and in the moment that he took to help him, large fiery fragments came down in the hallway. He heard a cry from the other room and echoed it, knowing he could not get to his wife. Time slowed almost to a stop. The creatures had gone, but more came, and although the house splintered and burned, Teq tried to fight them off to get to Wellin but it proved too much. There came a painful moment when he realized that unless he stopped now, he and his son would both perish. Anguish filled his heart, and rage at the unknown beasts that had invaded his city, and he hollered his pain. Llassar, still young, was digging furiously at the barriers in the way, but to no avail. Teq slumped. "She must already be dead, son. It is my duty now to make sure you, at least, live." "No!" cried the boy, but he stopped his futile efforts. "No." He, too, slumped as he spoke. Head bowed, he said it a third time but defiance had left his voice. "Please God, no." Another of the creatures came at them out of the sky, and Teq managed to kill it while Llassar cried at the flaming pyre, shouting to a silent mother. His father, though feeling as thought he'd lost part of his soul, was quiet, pulling at the boy. Tear stained cheeks looked up at him, and they both took off out of the city. As they ran, Teq said a mute but vehement oath to find and kill the one who had caused this destruction. Edit: Erg... it's spelled "Teq" but apparently I can't get my own character's names right.

The thing I found most disturbing was the lack of tie-in, the lack of consistency. The very short lines seemed to go from one place to another, not really explaining why the author felt that way. So I added some explanations. I left the original lines mostly intact - the changes were basically to make them fit with the added lines, sometimes to give a little more length. As I already said, the poem doesn't explain very well why the author is thinking these things, so this is just my interpretation of what they might have meant to say. I guess the reason I didn't reply sooner was that I wanted to go into rhyme and meter, but these things are optional. It depends how you want to convey the feeling of the words you're putting across, and I think it's very difficult to do even as much as I did without working directly with the original poet to make sure the original intentions of the piece are not lost. They probably are anyway, but nevertheless, my version... Love is exhilarating, its sweetness takes my breath. I believe in love. Fate guides us with unwavering hand, gently altering our lives. I believe in fate. Love and fate, these sister's souls entwined with evil, For I believe my debts can never be repaid. When I open my ears, I hear the subtle strains of yearning melody. I hear music play. When I open my ears, I hear the shrill call of one who is abandoning life. I hear dying screams. Music and screams, these sounds forming a terrible symphony, For when I hear my heart beat, I hear everything. When I think of you, I understand. I know, I know. I rehear those words you spoke to me; I know just what you meant. I hear them again and again, and I finally understand. My time with you was heaven sent. But when the clock ticks down to the final moments of life... When we have reached the end... I will reaffirm the understanding that had engulfed me whole. For I know it could not be. Oh, the things I see now could strike a heart in two; Though I was wrong for you, the one for me was you.

It's been a while since I wrote this, but I remember being quite proud of it at the time (the assignment, I believe, was a paragraph in french about our summer... I was bored by the task and made it into a poem) so I figure, why not support the Manor of Tongues by posting a little something? If anyone who speaks french better than me is willing to help me edit it into something worthwhile, I'd appreciate the opportunity to refresh those old skills. Thanks! Il n'y a pas longtemps Que mon père et ma manan, Ils ont pris mes amis et moi Nous avons voyager à ma cabane. Nous avons marché aux échasses, Et on a fait la natation dans l'eau. Nous avons rôti des hot-dogs Et on a fait le bateau. Nous avons fait le tube gonflable, Et nous avions de grandes fêtes. J'ai sauté dans le lac; Ensuite, j'ai perdu mes lunettes.