Tanuchan

*giggles no end* Great!

Fear is closer than myself, a companion from older days an instinct who's my twin intimacy in dark places Confidence is but an acquaintance, a tentative new friend conscious choice that comes with the years alluring light to dissipate darkness. (It's not what you asked but it was what came out )

Right... I'm definitely in, and blame a kitty for that... of course, that does mean Mynx is in too We will be playing both sides of one character with Multiple Personality Disorder, who is a guard at the Asylum. (Patrick, if this is not possible, just let us know and we'll work in other ways). Officer Bruce Anthony Daniels Officer Daniels has ended up as guard in Lupine Asylum because no one could figure out whether he was an exemplary officer or a very sneaky criminal. His record is almost perfect, however there were times he had been found in places where he shouldn't be, near a crime scene or an accidental death victim. From time to time a witness or other would be in doubt whether they had seen Officer Daniels engaging in suspicious activities, but at the end nothing would be proved. So, it was decided that it was for the best that Officer Daniels were to end up his service days at Lupine Asylum. The truth is that Officer Daniels has undetected Multiple Personality Disorder. Bruce is a lawful guard, strict on his obedience to the rulebook; he will not stray a fraction of an inch from what law says. He would be a truly good person, if he had not the weird feeling that there is something dark in the back of his mind; this is what makes him adhere to the rules, so that he cannot make mistakes. Anthony is a sadistic personality, who derives all his pleasure from inflicting pain and misery. Tony is actually aware of Bruce, and whenever he's not dominant he tries to wrestle control back or challenge Bruce's 'lawfulness'. Bruce, on the other hand, has no idea at all that Tony exists. Tony has also a vague feeling there is something a bit weird on the back of his mind, something that at times makes him be more careful; but usually he dismisses it as being just a 'smart feeling'. The Dark One is the true evil living in Bruce Anthony. He's an assassin, but a subtle and very dangerous one. He mostly rides when Tony is dominant, here and there whispering caution and nudging some attitudes and actions to better cover the murders. When Bruce is dominant, the Dark One is more vocal, constantly whispering murder into his mind. The Dark One is, thus, the only personality fully aware that there are three in the same body. Bruce will be played by me (Tanny) Tony will be played by Mynx the Dark One will be played by both of us, and is to be considered an NPC; if Patrick agrees, we'd like to have the possibility to keep playing him when one of us is wolfed or lynched

Intrigued also... and in doubt whether I'll have the time to deal with this, but the 'slowness' of the game might help in that. I'll be also tentatively in, though that's mostly due to the theme and not really because lack of time I'll be back with a definitive answer (and a character if that's the case) after I see what people are planning to play.

Inaction is copying. Action is creativity. Inaction is just coping. Action is rewarding life.

Peredhil, I do hope you go back to this story! I'm always a fan of your tales, you know that As for this one — I love the humor in it, the "Britishness" of the Colonel (honestly, I don't know any Brit, but in my mind it fits very well...) and the counterpoint in Dorchester. For some reason, the story makes me think of safaris in the 19th/early 20th century... as a curiosity, was there any inspiration coming from H.G Well's Time Machine? The beginning of your story made me immediately think of it, though just for a couple paragraphs. I don't have much more to say right now, just that I'll be waiting forward to new installments and maybe then I can actually write better comments... still stretching my fingers and coaxing them back to life after a quite long absence in posts here

Tanny had seen the little ferret scurrying around and wondered what had aroused his curiosity. It seemed like Curiosity had not noticed her, and she hesitated whether to call him or not. She got distracted for a few seconds by a stream of mumbled curses coming from Stephen, and before she had to time to query her friend about it, Curiosity had found her and came as surely as an arrow drawn by a Ranger. ::Curiosity, little friend, how are you?:: She could follow the series of images that came to her mind as easily as they were words, and was pleased to see the ferret had been having fun exploring the Keep and the forest. She nodded, but before she could think of any comment there came a couple questions from him. ::This is a... a polling station. People come to choose a person to represent them... no, erm... I mean, yes, all people... yes, I mean no, not only people, all sorts of sentient creatures I guess... ahm... a kind of Academy... eh... Academy is a place where people/sentient creatures study ... oh... ehm... no, those are booths, there's a machine in there that helps counting the votes... yea—what? Oh, don't know why purple... wait, you cannot go there when it's occupied! ... eh.. because the vote is secret... oh, because then people are more comfortable to show their true opinion... no no it's because then they wouldn't be afraid of being questioned about their choices or ... yes—no no! No one's going to punish people for their votes... that? It's a Portal.. no, I don't know where to... it's a transport system for some peopl... yes, it shimmers nicely no you cannot go there it mightbedangerous... by all gods can't you stop and breathe between questions?!:: Tanny tried to catch Curiosity gently between her paws, wondering whether soothing the sleek creature would also stop his barrage of questions; but in the blink of an eye she saw him scurrying away from her reach, intent on something that had called his attention. Stephen's mind voice queried her about the headache he could feel starting in her, followed by another question on her well-being and how long would they still have to stay there-have-you-noticed-how-slow-the-time's-passing... Tanny wanted to scream, and buried her nose between her paws, sighing. ::Stephen, do me a favor and shut up for some blessed minutes?::

Be very welcome I see Peredhil and Patrick have taken care of the explanations... so I'll just welcome you! Banquet Hall will be eagerly awaiting your poetry, and if you like a bit of role-play there's the Conservatory (I think there's a couple RP open for anyone right now). Any doubts you have, you can always ask any of us around here, by thread or PM. Oh, I'm (one of) the resident wolf shapechangers... and depending on who you ask, either an evil or a mischievous troublemaker I hope you enjoy your stay!

Thanks Wyvern, for bringing to my attention (through this thread) Patrick's new story, it had escaped me when it was posted. A comment on your comment — maybe you're relating Nguyen to some historic figures from Vietnam War, which you possibly study at school? It was my case, and so I did a quick search for that surname in that context; I ended up with several Nguyens... I think my auditive memory remembers Nguyen Giap, for some reason (it was a long time I had to study World History, after all ;p) Patrick, as Wyvern I like this first post. You set the mood nicely, and I'm certainly curious about where you're going to take it! I'll keep an eye on it too, and hopefully can keep posting comments (RL permitting). ~T

This came out from a conversation with Vene, and is a free RP open to anyone who wants to participate. We do not have specific plans for the thread/plot, other than being fun (and preferably light). Tanny and Stephen's friends who are mentioned to share the desk have not been named, so if you want to be one of them go ahead! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ::I was out of my mind. That's the only possible explanation. Either that, or I have completely lost any common sense I have ever got!:: ::Ouch:: There was a clear flinch in the mind-voice.::I might just have been logically persuasive?:: ::I was probably drunk... you and your cigarettes, most probably!:: ::... Cigarettes make one drunk?:: ::Aaaarghhh.... I swear one day I'll ... I'll... :: Stephen blinked, surprised to hear a chuckling at the end of the sentence. ::... Tanny?:: It took some time before the wolf settled, taken as she had been by a giggling fit. ::It's amazing how often I let you put me into this kind of thing just because I don't have enough sense to find a flaw on your reasoning... or lack of it.:: The wolf plopped down wearily, but still with a glint of humor in her eyes. ::Now, again, what are we doing here?:: ::Uh... volunteering for election-day duty?:: ::VOLUNTEERING? I was dragged into this by your misery!! I did not volunteer, it was your dratted Mage-acquaintance who volunteered YOU and then you had to share that boon with me!:: Stephen almost laughed at the harumphing wolf, except that he himself puffed at hearing one special part of the sentence. ::Mage-acquaintance? I have NO mage acquaintance whatsoever! The old fellow just fell on me, literally -- out of thin air!And then started thanking me for saving him from a most unpleasant meeting with mother earth and said that he'd honor me by recommending me to be an officer on the Mage-election day!:: ::Hmph. And what are we electing? Or who? From which candidate list? What for?:: The ranger flailed arms helplessly, still at a loss on how he had gotten stuck behind a long desk in a glade right next to the Pen Keep, with a ranting wolf sitting at his feet. In front of him, he knew there were the two voting booths which glowed slightly purple, as he had heard others murmuring; each of them housed a contraption that the "old-fellow" described as the state-of-the-art voting apparatus, completely tampering-proof even to the most powerful of mages. There were some other people at the table, also grumbling and as happy as him (and Tanny) to be there. ::I have no clue. Next I know, I was telling the crazy fellow that I couldn't not oversee anything, and no, I could not point out other helpers... Then he was babbling something about what a perfect place for a voting Portal this would be and that the locals could help with the Academy of some-other-plane by holding a polling place here in neutral ground. He even said we could vote too!:: ::Okay, you featherbrained ranger... let me try again. What does this election mean, and how did we all end up here?:: ::Huh... I don't know? That's the list of names...:: His hand pointed vaguely in the direction he knew a list was stuck to a tree trunk. ::As to what for... well... some kind of regional representative for that so-called Academy? We are told we can add any name we want to that list, provided that the ones there are not erased... anyone from the Pen can vote, besides those... erm.... whoever... who Portal over here from their Plane... :: This is going to be a loooooooooong day... Tanny sighed, still mumbling. And again sent in mindspeech to Stephen, ::And you HAD to have me as a seeing eye dog, of all things?!:: ::Not my fault. The gandalf-guy just said that there would be no problem about finding some help for me, and all of a sudden you appeared running at all speed and crashed into me.:: He snorted, remembering too well the impact of a wolf on his chest and of earth on his back. ::I hardly remember what I was doing, all of a sudden I had an irresistible compulsion to run straight into the clearing you were in,:: mumbles Tanny, regretting the surprise that stopped her from weaving adequate shieldings against the magic that had taken her. She scanned the glade, and noticed a Portal shimmering in to spit out a weird-looking guy, supposedly a mage, who came straight to them to identify himself and receive the voting instructions. And she also saw some curious Pennites approaching, wondering about all the ruckus the "gandalf-guy" had made to spread the news that The Pen was honored with housing a Polling District for the Wizardry Academy of Plane-Iota-Psi-Nine. Stephen grimaced, and wondered what his friends sharing the position of 'officers' were thinking of the "recruiting" method the strange wizard had used to find them. Tanny sighed, and mumbled something about the silly chanting coming out of nowhere from time to time, supposedly to remind people it was time to vote. Ding-dong, wiggly-wong, polling song!

Spot, shutting everything out from his mind but the irresistible call he sensed, kept running at an amazing speed for his age (which did not mean at all a great speed). He seemed to ignore the tangles and pebbles on the forest ground, tangles and pebbles that insisted to not ignore Tug's feet. Thanks to the forest ground, Tug had a hard time trying to catch up with Spot, always a few steps ahead of him; true, had he not been such a sweet boy, he would have thought of grabbing Spot's wagging tail, which was always just an arm's reach from his nose. But as it was, tugging tails was never on Tug's mind, and so he followed. Spot disappeared into some bushes, with Tug trailing soon afterwards. Tug's eyes rounded when he realized the bushes just hid the entrance of a cave, and for a moment he thought he heard a deep rumbling coming from further ahead. Spot, though, just kept going... and disappeared. Tug tried to stop. He did try hard to stop and breathe and shout for Spot, but he could not. When Spot disappeared, he was just two steps behind him, and so he also stepped on the slippery floor... and fell hard on his back, sliding the rest of the way down. He could hear Spot's whimper a bit ahead, and wondered if his dog was also on his back with all limbs flailing on the air. Which Spot actually had. There was some rustling sounds, and a most unusual sound reached both Spot and Tug's ears.

Katz, I have a very old beginning of a story/tale posted at the Room of Fiery Hearth... http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?showtopic=15940 Feel free to dissect it! I'd be more interested in the smoothness and flow, not that much about grammar unless it's something horrible I'm not a story-teller, and I'm aware I lack description and dialogue skills... unless I'm writing with someone else then I can almost RP things instead of just relying on my prose skills For your reference, I started it as an exercise for the first or second Carnival... and then it ended up being too long for what I wanted; I don't remember if I have posted it somewhere else, but I do remember I asked you (at the time) to take a look on it. I don't really have plans for that story, and honestly I don't even remember where I wanted to take it to (if I ever had such a plan ). At the time I posted it at the SWG, it had turned more into some kind of exercise. Thank you! Oh, and if I fail to answer anything you might write/comment on that, please take into account how busy I am! It wouldn't be for any kind of "hurt feelings"

Ackkkkkk!! *hides behind the nearest necromancer* One day (sooner or later) RL will leave me time/disposition to answer properly Nice sense of opportunity with that pic, Wyv!! *grins*

Final tally: Mynx - Talky, the talking toaster - toasted by the wolf... Patrick - Slimmo, the brain implant; hosted by the brain of Fatso, a white lab rat second lynch, Baner Giles - a cellphone ... maybe the next victim? Venefyxatu - Wii console, obnoxious and wolfish... Savage Dragon - first lynching Mithrandin - Type-x, old mechanical typewriter melted by the wolf, Seer Next?

Roger was fast asleep, and so tired that an earthquake would probably fail to wake him up. In the workroom, there was a sudden flare as a live wire connected to Typex. Somehow, enough energy was sent into his metal parts to bend and partially melt many of its components. Gasps were almost heard as the other gadgets turned their horrified thoughts and senses to the corner where Typex used to sit. The sad remains of the ruined typewriter shocked most of the gadgets into silence. It had been such a quiet, yet pleasant, gadget, that nobody could really believe that it was gone. Nobody, except for one of them. The lights on the Wii suddenly started flickering madly, accompanied by a cackling laughter buzzing through the wires. "Wiiiii ... heheheeee. Death, death! They're all going to die, and then... THEN!! Then I'll show them! Or, wait ... I'll have already shown them. Anyway, I'll, like, have the world! Because with the practice I got here, and the practice in all those games that the stupid computer made me beg for every time, it'll be a piece of cake. Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiii." Almost as an afterthought, another shock went through the wires, causing little wisps of smoke to come from the computers power supply unit. "There. That'll teach you not to make me beg. Wiiii!" ~~~~~~~~ OOC. Thank you Vene for writing the end post with me! Check OOC for details...

Roger would never have believed the amount of energy spent while he was gone; static spread all over the room, and voltage flickered and danced madly around the optimum while all gadgets seemed to glare and grumble, suspicious thoughts and senses flying through the wires. The only one apparently oblivious to all that was Fatso. He scuttled around, bored and completely unaware of the conscious thoughts that traveled in all those wires that were always tripping him. He sniffed at his food, at the bottle of water, and concluded that there was nothing good for eating or drinking there. Blinking lights, though, always made him remember food. He darted towards them, the fact that they belonged to a Wii console already buried in forgetfulness. Slimmo was jolted out of its slumber by a most annoying voltage peak, which disoriented it quite a bit. It had barely the time to register Fatso's teeth sinking into a fat cable before its circuits went haywire. Roger came back just in time to see Fatso's head glowing a most baleful green while he munched on one of the cables connecting a couple peripherals to the computer. With a shout, he grabbed the mouse by its scruff with all the intention of throwing it out of the window. However, the moment his fingers connected to Fatso's neck, he let go with a yelp. Roger did not know what stunned him more -- the powerful shock he had received from the apparently innocent mouse, or the auto-immolation of the same... starting from the head and finishing at his tail. Roger blinked, and immediately went to his computer to take note of the scene -- it had given him just the best of inspirations for a scene at the game. Then he changed the ruined cables, checked to confirm there was no harm done anywhere, and went on to work on his new idea. ~~~~~~ OOC: Night phase -- specials, send targets please!

Players/characters: Mynx - Talky, the talking toaster - toasted by the wolf... Patrick - Slimmo, the brain implant; hosted by the brain of Fatso, a white lab rat Giles - a cellphone Venefyxatu - Wii console Savage Dragon - first lynching Mithrandin - Type-x, old mechanical typewriter

What Roger did not see or notice as he left thinking about generous curves, was that a small voltage meter attached to his working room main power line registered some quick, abnormal peaks. The almost-flickering numbers went off-scale for maybe a couple nanoseconds, then quieted. And Talky, who had been about to mutter about something being wrong in its toasting timer, had just the time to utter a "huh-oh..." before going suddenly quiet. Toast, is it? The thought fluttered in the conduits, but too fast for anyone to identify the source. ~~~~~~~~~~ OOC: I'm going to refrain from the pun Mynx/Talky unfortunately will be quiet for a loooong while... it's day phase and you have around 48h to find who's behind all the sudden mal-functions!

To clarify -- as Savage did not send me a character, it went unnamed in my post...

Roger was puzzled when he woke up. Still half-asleep, he looked around trying to put his finger on what was wrong. Put his finger he did, and then he found out: his alarm clock, or whatever had also that function, was not working... he sat on his bed and took the gadget for a closer inspection. It's dozen lights were not dimmed as usual, but completely dark. The LCD was ruby-red, glowing in a very dim and sullen way, instead of the usual dark blue. The MP3 function was dead, and the built-in portable console flashed once when he shook the gadget then also died. Wireless phone was also disconnected, not that it had ever worked as it should. And his agenda... well, he was lucky he had a backup on his desktop and also that it was just a copy from his iPhone. He tried the TV/DVD remote control function -- also dead. As the reader was. Sighing, Roger gave up and put away the last-generation-all-in-one-compact-bedside-companion. He would work on that later, he might still salvage some of the dozen functions it was supposed to have. At the very least, he could modify it to see what he could improve. But it is weird... that one does not seem burned... and yesterday it was the webcam... maybe I should check the wiring of the house. He went for a quick shower, then patted Toasty as it delivered him the wrong toasts again, and munching one of them already lost in thought he left. It was meeting day at the gaming company, and he longed for the coffee break; great coffee, delicious cookies, and an even better secretary with nice curves serving those... ~~~~~~~~ OOC: Savage Dragon was turned off by his whispering companions... Night Phase, specials please send me your targets in 24h!!

It's Day Phase - 48 hours to try and find the wolf! We have one Wolf, a Seer, and a Baner. As with the last game with few players, I will not be revealing the roles of the deceased. Good luck! Players/characters: Mynx - Talky, the talking toaster Patrick - Slimmo, the brain implant; hosted by the brain of Fatso, a white lab rat Giles - a cellphone Venefyxatu - Wii console Savage Dragon - Mithrandin - Type-x, old mechanical typewriter

Suddenly there was a slightly louder "bzzzt" and a flash coming from near the computer. Senses were turned to the little fellow resting near the monitor, which was suddenly very quiet. Some static, like a whisper, spread through the room. Roger came back in a fine mood, for dawn was beautiful. However, as soon as he sat on the computer to check a couple e-mails he noticed something wrong. It didn't take him more than a minute to find out the burned webcam. Muttering, he examined the last-generation gadget, and after a dismantling process he decided to put it aside in the "recyclable" pile of items. Annoyed, he went to bed. Last-generation gadget, absolutely impossible to burn, heh? That guy from the store is certainly going to hear from me. And exactly a day after the warranty expires too! And it was pretty weird, since he could tell there was some burning in the circuits but nothing else had been affected.. neither within the cam, or in the other peripherals or the computer itself. Still annoyed, he loooked at his watch and decided he needed to sleep. ~~~~~~~~ OOC: Webbie, the webcam, is the first (NPC) kill. It's day phase and you have around 48h to post your votes. Good luck!

Added the character On another note, since I have not heard from everybody who signed up, I'll be delaying the NPC kill for another 24h. C'mon, where are you?

GAME'S ON! http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?showtopic=16511 You have around 48h of free RP, then there will be the NPC kill. Sign-up is open until then, just post your character here then go play Have fun!

Roger yawned and stretched on his chair, blinking once again at the screens of the computer. All three of them showed parts of a magnificent scenery, but there were glitches here and there; creatures blinked into existence but refused to morph as they should, and then when supposed to go through doors they would just get stuck. He sighed, and decided to call it a day. Turning the chair towards the window, he was surprised to see a beautiful full moon almost waving at him. Smiling to himself, he stood up, got his jacket, and left the room. On his way out, he stopped for a glass of cold water. He patted the fridge, and the water came out and into the glass at the water slot in the door. Then he tickled the Toaster, which for some reason was not working as it should -- one day soon he should try to pick it apart to see why it refused to give him the toasts as he liked it in the morning, which was different from how he liked them in the afternoon, which was again different from what he liked right before going to bed. It seemed to mix it all up, ignoring everything he programmed it to do. He also left some food for the white lab rat, wondering when that brain implant would show its effects; he did not like animals, but he was actually very curious as to what a brain-chipped mouse could do. Until now, the only thing it did was to eat, pee, and dirty its cage, much to Roger's disgust. Finally, he pondered at the old typewriter, tucked into a corner of the counter where he put most of his gadgets. He had bought it to be part of a machine he was working on, and the mechanical parts of the typewriter had attracted his attention; he had full intention of dismantling it for the pieces he needed, but somehow there was always something else to do. Now, while coding a part of the game he was working on, he had had just an idea... transforming a typewriter into a robot with multiple arms, suited to organize and classify everything it could put its arms into, and beautifully title them. It was weird, but he liked the shape of the old types... Roger sighed, then finally went downstairs. It was three in the morning, just perfect for a walk; later on he might thing about a light breakfast and sleep. As Roger left, and after some minutes of the most absolute silent, tiny lights started to blink, and soft beeping noises could be heard; they were joined by more soft sounds, and a soft glow spread around the room. ~~~~~~ OOC: free RP phase for the next 48 h or so! Go ahead... and have fun!