James Crow

Those are all very helpful and I think I know how to do it...maybe? The problem is it's also an action scene an action is not my native tongue. But I broke my brain on an idea that helps that....maybe. Give me five-ish hours and I think I'll do something....maybe! Other news, I have more ideas! I finally came up with my favorite trope character, the gentalman thief, and he fits in one of worlds! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! And after I re-dub the episode I need too I will start showing all the places I see.

I just started to wake up and realised that months, MONTHS, have flow by. MONTHS! I don't know who was in charge of my body and mind at the time but I want to speak to them. On other topics. Random question. How would one re-dub a story. Like old kung fu movie dubbing. The bad dub where the lips move for a good minute and all they say is yes. If I can't figure this out I could always ignore it and try some other story, but I think it would be funny and an inside joke when the story comes out. So, any thoughts?

Kind of makes me think of that Tim Allen santa movie. With that said it inspired me in two completely diffrent directions. One very dark, and one with a good ending. And I think I know how to combine them.

Humanity is at its worst when at war. Each war reminds us of that, but the Final War went to far. Humanity invented two new weapons. The G-Bomb and C-Bomb. And because of them there will never be another war. The G-Bomb, or genetic eleminator bomb, tore through our genetics and made everybody lose one of their five senses. Touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Everyone lost one, even the next generation. Seemingly random it stole a part of us. And no matter what medicine was tried, nothing could help. The religious claimed one thing, the government another, and businesses a third. And people let them, till they tried to take up arms again. Wounds still fresh. So a group rose up, around the world, in unison. They called themselves the Innocent, and they said one word, NO. And that was that. No more war. For now, while the wounds fester and heal. But wounds heal and are forgotten, as will these, as it has with every war ever. Hence why these are just wounds. Now scars people remember, and that is what the other bomb caused. The C-Bomb, or chrono stasis bomb, left scars. Deep scars. Where they fell time froze completely. Everything could be seen as if someone paused a video. And trying to enter the blast zones resulted in nothing. No one could get in, it was like the hardest wall of clearest glass. You could see people, loved ones, strangers, trapped. These places became known as the Scars of the war. Then a rumor started that if you could get in your loss sense would return. If. If you could, and if it did, then what. Tecnobable explained it as the everyone's senses are trapped in the Scars. And they built a suit to go in... Will it work? Will it be sabotaged? Are the senses restored in the Scars?

I like the idea of something like Death of the Mighty Pen. But honestly am game for anything.

The Labyrinth looks fun, and I looked at the Werwolf games a bit. I will look deeper later. But I want something more simple and much complex. Let me attempt to explain. My buddy that got me my new job that blesses me with time and attitude to once again write reintroduced me into D&D. And then we stopped. He had classes so he could improve his spot at work and a full time job, and I have a new job. But now I have the itch. And I have tried Jumpchains and CYOAs but there is a problem. People. I need some one else to play with, and I know it's childish but it's true. Being in a group and adventuring is funner. Like a vacation or a good restaurant, having some one to share the experience with makes it better. Now the pitch. I want to make a perpetual machine. The idea is there will be no one master to the game. There will be a pool of quest anyone can take. Higher quest add complications with more or less if people work together. And if you want to spice up your quest you add a ... letting anyone to add a complication. Nothing fatal, and if you can't figure out how to make your character get out alive you have a few choices, either take a serious flaw, like lost limb or eye of loss of ability, or call for help which end your story bit with a HELP. And there could be hirerlings, character concepts anyone can use. And the world will be built by everyone's description of the world. And if it's bigger, then I can add more of the complicated ideas I have. That's most of what I have planned for now. And I'm still not sure how good it sounds, but I like the idea of no one person that everything depends on. An rpg ran by the players. A perpetual rpg. So, thoughts?

I have a story likelike idea and like to hear what anyone thinks. The idea would be a rpg like story that anyone can join called The Adventure's Guild. And the premise would be you make your adventure and go on quest. The guest are more like a story starter that you write about completing. If you want to complicate it you would end your writing with a ... And that gives anyone a chance to add a complication with a bit of luck thrown in (a coin flip, die roll, ect.) with one result making you worse off. Example: You are pick herbs and want a complication, so you get captured by bandits with a coin flip: heads you have a serious wound or tails you are just tied up. If it goes well enough there would be an overarching plot with twist and turns. So what do you guys think?

Grampa likes metaphors On how to get through life. Often very common With ends I think you know. One stone One step One bite One day at a time. Grampa changed the metephors, As i got through life. Though still very common, Ends I think we know. One complication, One crisis, One bill, One day, at a time. Now my metaphors. At grampa's end of life. With common. Ends we all know. One tear. One tragedy. One death. One day.....

Day Four: Fever Dreams and Loose Ends (ooc: Man these post are longer than I thought. This should be the last day needed to have james return so this weekend I will catch up on the days, stat telling spooky and cozy tales, and stop being so serious. Till then, take care.)

Day Three: The Inevitable In all of the places in the Mighty Pen there is one you must go to if you ever visit is the Boaz Room. Though you might wish to prepare a reservation, for you see the Boaz Room is simply...no, that is completely the wrong word, for you see, the Boaz Room has nothing simple about it. It is home of the most complex art, grandest entertainment, and heavenly food. There is only one place in the entire Pen that could rival it, and that is the forbidden treasure vaults that lie deep beneath the Mighty Pen. Though, due to recent events, the Boaz Room is rather empty. And because of that the elven receptionist is beyond board. She has counted the tiles in the mosaic flooring, even going so far as growing attached to a slightly faded one and naming it Amaranth. With a sigh she guesses that today is going to be the same and starts to day dream about a prince that will sweep her off her feet, carry her into a bedroom and..."can you help me?" "DO YOU HAVE A RESERVATION!" she shrieks out of instinct at the sound of the quite voice. "no sorry," responds the startled Shy. The receptionist starts to turn beet red out of embarrassment. "Amaranth, why didn't you warn me." The tile did not respond. "I'm sorry but I can't help you without a reservation." The rejected Shy looks down and apologies as she starts to leave. Panicked, the receptionist almost leaps over the desk, "WAIT!" Shy stops and turns. Quickly the receptionist composes herself and straightens her black dress. "If you do me a favor then I, might look the other way." She gives the teenage girl a smile. Shy claps her hands and rushes over, "I'lldoanythingthing!thankyou!thankyou!thankyou!" "Calm down, now what did you need." "My friend caught a cold and I wanted to know what food would help him." "Hmmmm. I think chicken noodle would be the best." "Thank you!" Shy said as she went to leave. "Wait. Aren't you going to wait for your order?" Shy started to fidget and play with her hands. "Well you see, I was hoping I could...maybe..." The receptionist smiled, "That must be some friend." Shy nodded. "Then let me get you advice on where to find what you need." Shy started to glow with excitement. After awhile Shy had a list and what to do. "Thank you." She went to leave then stopped and turned back around, "What was the favor you wanted from me?" The receptionist smiled, "Come back and visit me, okay." Shy nodded. "Oh and tell your friend that he should wear a coat when its cold." Shy turned a little red and nodded thanking her once again. As Shy left the receptionist sighed, "Well Amaranth, she isn't a prince, but beggars can't be choosers." Shocked at what she said her face went through the entire spectrum of red as she shook her head and hid her face in embarrassment. The tile did not respond. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Inside the Boaz Room, Zool and Brighid where drinking tea and talking about old times when they hear the elven receptionist say in a frantic tone, "Here she is!" Brighid just had enough time to turn around before being tackled by Shy. As she was about to ask for some clarification she looked at Shy and saw tears running down her face, "Please come quick, James is dying." Shy explained to Brighid as they ran back to the tavern. James was sick so she made him chicken noodle soup and when he ate it he started to throw up and clutch his stomach in pain. Multiple illnesses and cures rushed through the talented healers mind as they made it to James' room, but it was easy to see what was the cause. Angrily she turn to Shy and said, "Scheherazade..." She started to get ready to scold the young girl when a pain voice said, "your food did the trick." Brighid turn around again to see James sitting up on his bed, sweating, trying to not show how much pain he was in. "your cooking is making my sickness run from my body." *ULP* He quickly covered his mouth. "violently. very. violently." She caught on quick what he was doing as Shy's smile lit up the room from the praise. Shaking her head a little, "You will spend the night with me tonight Scheherazade. James needs his rest." As she escorted the girl out James said, "ah, what brings the witch here," as if he just realized she was here. "Let's go," she growled as they left. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Later that night James kept rolling around in pain. "stupid author, i knew..."*blaaarg* "Your an idiot!" From the doorway stood a brilliant, and overly kind, healer. "She didn't cook the chicken in the soup. Eating raw chicken is, how to put this gently STUPID!" "and to make it worse the witch returns." Brighid walked over to James and put a vile to his lips. "Dink this, it will help the pain and nausea. And I am not witch. For the thousandth time." James gave a weak smile as he finished the vial. "you just..." "And what is even your problem with witches anyway. Did one curse you or...." she stopped when she say his face. Tears running down his face. "..reminded me of..." he looked at her and she felt the room around her start to shift. "my problem, curse." His smile sent a shiver down her spine and she could swear she was starting to see her breath. With a flash of lightning in his eyes he said, "Let me tell you a story." -------------------------------------------------------------------- **The Prince and the Witch** Long ago, in a far away land there once was a kingdom called Crow's Peak. And as the sun rose a young man stood shirtless in a small field. In a doorway of a small shed near the field a woman stood. "Young prince, please return to bed before you catch cold. Or do you wish to address your subjects," she joke waving her hands to the crows. "My loyal subjects, listen to my plea," the crows stopped eating and looked at the boy, "Push back the sun my men, for I want more time with my love. Now go, REVERSE TIME!" with a wave of his hand the crows took flight and he turned to look at the woman, and smiled. Her hair had silvered with age, but time had been kind to her. And the boy could only see the laughter in her eyes and the smile she always wore when he was around. She shook her head and giggled, "You flatter me young prince, however will I return the favor." The two lovers retreated back into the shed. This was not new. It started when the older woman first came to the castle, back when her hair was still gold and showed no sign of silver. But she was so much older then she thinks, before the young prince made it his mission to always see her smile. A few hours pass and the sun lies high in the sky, and the prince is deep in the castle's dungeons. Flinging open a door he sees the older woman, bleeding, bound with chains to the wall. He starts to rush to her when he is grabbed and before he can speak he is thrown to the ground at the feet of the king. "i told you will come for me," came a voice form the cell. "burn the witch." The boy looked up at his father. Cold eyes of fire gazed back at him. Then he heard the woman start to laugh and looked at her, and started to shake. She was crying. He started to rush to her only to be dragged away by guards. No matter how he struggled and pleaded he was dragged behind his father. "it is for your own good." Later, as the sun fell the young prince was standing by his father, looking down at the older woman tied to a pyre. She looked at him, "Always bring people smiles," she yelled up to him as they set her ablaze. She tried not to scream, but the fire is persistent, and finally she did. As the moon rose and the fire finally died, the boy walked out the castle gate. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "And as he wandered the name Crow's Peak shorted to Crow, and no longer a prince he went by his name..." "james," Brighid said with her hands covering her mouth and tears in her eyes. James turned with a cocky grin, "Or I'm just lying." "Why you," she bolted up right and stomped out of the room. She stopped at the door, "you're a bad lair you know." "yep," he responded looking out the window. Gripping the frame of the door a little harder she sighed. "That medicine only stops the pain, you still are sick. so rest up." She left. "yep," James said once again, a fire burning in his eyes and the sound of a woman scream roaring in his ears. But perhaps the fire is only reflections of out the window, and the scream is the wind through the boards of the tavern. Perhaps. (DUH DUH DUH! Times up for now. So same thing will delete and add when I get time. But I just couldn't write this now. I am having so much fun, man I forgot this how this felt. See ya guys soon! And I am 100 percent sorry for using fellow pennites in my story here but James and Shy live in the Pen, so I am deeply sorry again. I will treat them with the respect they deserve but if you have a problem I will remove it. That being said, I am going to start dragging more pennites into this collection of tale, and start telling more actually stories in here. Thank you all so much and I hope you are doing well and having fun. Till next time.)

Agreed.

Day Two: Paths well Traveled {Author Note: I found a new job with a new hours of work, so I was thinking of writing again. Then you sent out the note to everyone, made it not hard to see the stars aligned. Though it has been hard for me to start up again. I do like the idae for the nursery , as a place for people to help an idea grow. And thank you Snypiuer for the welcome, and everything else.} The writing desk started to scribble on the piece of paper and James looked over at it. Nodded an agreement as a dress smacked into his face. Annoyed he looked over at the closet that Scheherazade vanished into over a day ago and gently growled, "Any day would be nice Shy." "I need the perfect outfit," came the distant voice in the closet. James just shook his head. "There! Hows this look." James watched as Shy came out in the closet in a stunning silk scarlet dress. More practical for dancing than the autumn chill. "Your going to catch a cold in that." She just looked at him blankly, "But does it look good?" James face palmed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shy almost flys down the stairs into the Tavern of the Quill's main room, "Guess yous back?" She dances around the tables to the cheers and applause of patrons old and new. And they get louder as James walks down in his duster, giving small waves and a few over the top bows. "BOO!" comes a deep, silky voice. Bringing silence and confusion to the room as everyone looks for the culprit. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It echos around the great hall till finally someone says, "THERE!" and points. On the bar top is a creature most foul and hideous. As a great pennite once said, "A demon that has cursed our kind for so long, each and every one of us is born with full and complete hatred . . . and fear, of him." Yes, the terror of Snypiuer, a DUST BUNNY! Realizing it has been spooted it quickly vanishes under a table. And when a brave pennite looks...it is not there. Shy starts to get wide eyed, spinning quickly to look at James who immediately says, "No, you can't keep it." And with Shy starting to pout the tavern once again erupts into laughter and merriment. And unbeknownst to all, the dust bunny watches, preparing his next return. As Shy and James head outside, ready to take in the sights of the Mighty Pen. They see pennites all getting ready for the harvest, and the festivals that follow. They see old friends and new, giving waves and swapping pleasantries. Shy bounces around, beyond thrilled to greet everyone, and relishing the compliments on her dress. But soon the autumn chill starts to take hold. James realized that Shy was no longer sprinting pass him turned to ask her whats the hold up and sees her hugging herself and shivering enough that he almost feared she fall apart. She shivered, it was so much colder than se though, but she didn't want to admit that James was right. Then she heard him say, "Hey Shy," she started to look up at him, ready to tell him to shut up when a duster covered her, "Mind carrying my coat I don't want to wear it any more." She watch as he turned and said hi to another passing pennite. She smiled and wrapped the duster tighter around her and sprinted to catch up.

Day One: Welcome Home The Mighty Pen; a place of thousands of thoughts and thousands of possibilities, a place that is different to each person that walks its halls. And on this particular night we find ourselves at the famed Tavern of the Quill. The warm music and stories shared from the main rooms drifts up to the rooms where guest sleep and relax in private. Though one room sees quite, to quite. As if nothing exist beyond the door. Then comes the sound of rusting of paper. Looking into the room does not reveal much of the one you lives there. A simple bed, one nice leather chair, and... a desk. A writers desk. A relic of long ago. On it is a piece of paper fluttering in the wind, words slowly appear upon it. "It has been a long time hasn't it. Life has led me astray and for awhile I thought I had lost my voice. Turns out my voices were helping me and the only reason I didn't lose everything. I was, for lack of better terms, marionetted by my own puppets. But time has changed and a summon must be answered. I will post everyday for 31 days, to rebuild my writing habit, and maybe myself" As the words fade from the paper the door opens and into the room walks a teenage girl and young man. They both look around the room, smiling the girl says, "Does this mean what I think it means James?" And with a cocky smirk James say, "It does Scheherazade, we're home."

It seems cars are always problems. But I hope it's not to much of a pain and you get it fixed soon.

This is a great poem. Thank you for writing it.