Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 mazzy (#648) hey just cause I like bubblegum don't mean I've been suckered - or converted into DEP devotee status! you can't be serious about someone you helped take baby pictures of! (got a great one on a rug, wannit? bwahaahahahah)
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Bale (#3195) Bale smiled. It was just like that great story by the French dude. The Three... what were they? Who knows. Then Bale remembered that there was really four of them. So the comparison fails, Especially because they aren't French. They're TMOT. Noticing that his mind is wandering like that of a 99 year old Confused Red Mage, Bale starts to think about something else. Pictures. Feath. Stiletto. Scanners. Scanners? Sandalwood perfume. Weaknesses. Bale smiles. He runs his hand through DEP-slicked hair. TMOT have no weaknesses. Throwing some high-fives to Greased and HawkAngel, TMOT stride off into the sunset, burning themselves badly... er, stride off into the distance, preparing themselves for TMOT VI- Return of the Pictures. The Three Men of Terra ride on.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Greased (#178) Greased suddenly gets that feeling. "Dudes, I think... I think... my PHOTO'S BEING SCANNED!" Bale shakes his head. HawkAngel growls. All know who is the perpetrator. The Three Men of Terra ride on.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Mordain (#3761) And then, there were four... As I walked on to the scene I find my three old friends. To my right was Bale, the ass-kicker. To my left was HawkAngel, back to his old form. And, standing in the middle was Greased, the Man. "Gentlemen, we are back," I say with no expression as I pull back my red hood. "Jeeze Mordain, what the hell happened to you?" exclaimed Greased as he looked at my new red robe. My stoic face broke out into a huge grin, pleased that Greased had noticed that I had transformed after several incarnations as blue. "Long story." I offered my hand quickly to each as greetings were exchanged. I looked around and noticed that Feath and Stiletto were off in the distance, probably talking about how they were going to split up Terra between themselves. "So how are things Mordain?" Asked HawkAngel. "Fine Hawk, how are things with the masses?" "Oh, the usual, you know how it is returning from hell." HawkAngel passed off coolly. "Right. That's not what I've been hearing. I'm told that I shouldn't challenge you to a single duel this time around." I stare at HawkAngel to get any indication of recognition. I get nothing except the slightest crack of a smile. "Bale, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. Four something or anothers?" "Well, Mordain, it's about these four fellows..." Bale starts but is unable to finish as I am forced to interrupt. "I'm sorry Bale, but I just remembered something that I need to deal with, can we follow this up latter?" "Sure, later." Bale nods with a smile. "Gentlemen, I'll see you around." And, with that I head off back to the castle. "There goes Mordain, always running off." Says Greased. Now how the heck did I get DEP all over my hands? Oh well, with that, I slick back my hair. These guys must be hanging around Corvus too much.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Bale (#3195) Bale grimaces as Mordain leaves. Jeesh. You would've thunk that 3 years of law school would have taught an old mage SOMETHING! MUSKETEERS!!!! And now we are 4... Let's ride! Er, can I borrow someone's comb...?
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Feath (#34) Feath traded grins with stiletto, and they shook hands on the deal. with a final complement on stilettos almost dress, she turned, and pulled the hood of her grey velvet cloak further over her head. she watched the 4 break up, as Mordain went one way, and the other three in another. who to follow? well, Feath could tell my the silly smiles where the three were going, but Mordain looked unusually grim. invisible in a open field, she followed Mordain. on a divergent thread: Mordain (#3761) Well, it took long enough for Bale to say it. And, yes I know the tale. But, I'm no D'artangeon. The Cardinal perhaps... Climbing aboard my dragon, I see Feath walking towards me. "Mordain, how are you ?" Feath asks with a sultry smile. "Fine, Feath, you?" I try not to stare as Feath adjusts her cleavage. A regular "Portable Hole" that she has there. (Ask a D&D player if you're not sure what this is). "Peachy!. Where are you going Mordain?" asks Feath. "I have some messy business to take care of, Feath. "Care to share?" "Not this time. I have a contracted mage that needs to be dealt with." "Oh, I see. Well, kick some devil butt for me." Says Feath brightly. "Sure, I'm going to make it so hot for these Asmodae types that they're going to feel right at home." And with that, I spur my dragon and fly off. Much different that air-elementals. I think I'm going to like this color. Feath (#34) if your the cardinal, what can i be? Madame Bonacieux? no, she dies at the end. Milady de Winter; I think NOT! AHHHhhh, ive got it! i am Anne of Austria. madly in love with George Villiers, duke of Buckingham; and married to that idiot Louis. THATS where mordain went! hes after the diamonds!
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 DeosArcana (#2657) And somewhere, where the sun rarely shone, and darkness ruled with an iron fist... or better yet a platinum fist, because platinum's more expensive... Oh, but platinum's a good metal... Argh... Whatever. Let's just say it was a place you didn't take the children to for summer vacation. Anyway, on a chill peak somewhere atop a forbidding mountain resting in the middle of a creepy swamp and surrounded by rows upon rows of Attorney Firms, there lurked a dark man, sitting on his throne. This was a very special throne, one that had survived the destruction of Terra again and again. It was a very special seat, for it was carved completely out of bone. And not the bones of mere mortals, for those were fragile things that didn't survive the terrors of Armageddon, no, this chair was made from the remains of demons. Devils, Demons, Succubi, all bested in personal combat, their skeletal remains used to craft this most sinister of butt parking spaces. But that's besides the point, on that throne of bone rested a dark figure, draped in a cloak made of an unknown material, its design and creation known only to two people, the wearer, and the unfortunate soul who's skin was used to make it. Alas, he was not alive to complain about it. But again we digress for no real reason (And this has nothing to do with the fact that I'm making this up and stalling for time), and we should return to that very impatient man sitting on the throne of bone, covered by his special cloak and wearing his deathly black armor, which is special in its own right, but lets not get into THAT. Anyway, after all the ramblings about this very special man atop his very special throne, he rose up in his seat and waved his gauntletted fist, summoning a shimmering globe into his hand. As he gazed into it, the mist within the shimmering sphere twisted and coalesced into a picture. In it, four men sat atop their steeds, their faces set in preparation for what was to come. One was a spindly man, wearing a red robe, obviously a powerful eradication mage. The one next to him was wiry, his hair unkempt, his hand constantly seeking his head to flatten it out. He was obviously in need of a comb. To the other side of the hair-style challenged man stood a tall warrior, a sword at the ready in case of any dangers they might face. And finally, there was a man who radiated an aura of what once was called 'Coolness'. He seemed undaunted by the task at hand, and was ready for anything. The dark figure watched these four men and smiled, for they had no idea who exactly they were really dealing with. Of course, Stiletto was the obvious villain in this scenario, but wheels worked within wheels in the realm of Terra, and not all was as it seemed. But for now this malevolent figure was satisfied with what he'd seen, and snapping his hand shut, the shimmering sphere disappeared with a gentle *POOF*. These four adventurers, these... Musketeers, were a force to be reckoned with, and the shadowy man was no fool in matters such as these. Rising to his feet, he snapped back his cloak, which seemed to flutter on a breeze neither seen nor felt. He strode through his castle, into a room packed full of all the magical treasures he had collected and stored over the years. He had work to do, and it was going to be fun... And somewhere deep within that black fortress of doom, a maddening laughter shattered the silence. Deos Arcana had begun his latest 'project'.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 HawkAngel (#2771) As he led Greased and Bale deeper into the ruins of the former Tarakian capital city (home of the traveling Elvish show demonstrations of a Terra long gone) HawkAngel ponders the transformation of Mordain. Having recognized his old friend and mentor, he was astounded to see Mordain desert the advanced blue arts for the more blunt and indirect red. But not astounded enough to hide his recognition. Rubbing the scars left from Terra III (Hell does little to heal old wounds) and the numerous single combats he fought there HawkAngel wondered what Mordain meant about the single combat. Perhaps the upkeep of that lone imp..... But no matter...they had arrived. Bowing HawkAngel indicated a dark entryway that all three mages sensed had magical defenses in addition to the ordinary lock that somehow had survived the abandonment of the city. Bale, never being one for indirect approaches held the other two back. "I can handle this", smiled Bale, "I am a Tarakian after all". With that he raised a large boot and kicked in the door. Or rather the door grabbed his boot. Poor Bale found himself sucked in through the door. HawkAngel and Greased looked at each other astounded. "But the DEP....", stammered HawkAngel. "Forget the DEP, knock down those SPELLS!", growled Greased. The only thing on his mind was keeping the women of Terra from making him into a pinup. Quickly recovering HawkAngel unwove the spells that he was so familiar with. "Done," stated HawkAngel. Greased and HawkAngel burst through the now harmless door to an astonishing sight. Bale was locked in an embrace with Stiletto! Making an idle motion towards her desk Stiletto spoke, "I do believe what you're looking for is there. Fair trade. Bale (temporarily of course!) for the film. He doesn't seem to mind do you Bale?" The hapless Bale simply stared up in wonder at Stiletto. She smiled and spoke again, "Hawk I do believe you know enough to eliminate any copies I may have made?" Not giving her former fiancé time to respond she turned her full attention back to Bale.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Mordain (#3761) Greased quickly palmed the film grinding it into dust. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "But what about him?", asked HawkAngel, "we're not going to be able to cover all of Terra until he's done being...indisposed". "It's Bale, c'mon. He'll have her worn out in an hour or so. He is The Man after all. We'll see if we can pull Mordain away from whatever he rushed off for a little tour through Shaolin's finer side", answered Greased. He was anxious to get back to business now that his body was his own again. So HawkAngel and Greased strode out of the Tarakian capital. HawkAngel lost in his thoughts, idly fingering his sword and wondering if maybe Mordain knew something he didn't, and Greased lost in the thoughts of the women of Terra once again only being able to view him in the flesh.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Bale (#3195) Bale grimaces when he thinks of what it is TRULY like getting between ex-fiancées. There's shotguns and stuff, nothing for a ladies man! He runs his hand through DEP-slicked hair. The pictures have been returned, Greased and Bale are still the MEN, HawkAngel has joined them, Yoda, er, Mordain has finally arrived (BTW still looking for that ICQ Mordain!), and Terra was safe. Now to find Greased and see if he has a comb... Bale walks off into the sunset again, once again causing himself huge burns and igniting the DEP, er, I mean, he takes off to find The Man. So they can find some ladies... And maybe read a Dr. Seuss book to Warchild...
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Zorak (#755) Again, Zorak is in his forest keep, speaking with Thane, Crimson Warrior of Our Lady of Merciless Beatings, and Bongo, creepy little blue imp. "Stiletto..." Thane sips his iced tea, "It would be unwise to attempt an assault on Stiletto... especially in her own lair." "Agreed. Besides, she probably has Feath and Mazzy lined up as help," I say. But I'm not one to give up so easily. "Wait... Stiletto is no fool. If she had the Portrait of the Man, she'd make a backup." Thane nodded, "A copy. Of course. Always keep a bit of insurance. Can you check the Ethersphere for a possible copy?" "Let's find out," I say, and head down the stairs to the conjuration room. Thane and I walk into the conjuration room and find the Pool of Sight(1) aglow with images of three men walking towards a city. Bongo's eyes are transfixed on the images. "Better than 'General Hoshpital'," says the blue imp, munching toffee-coated crickets. "Bongo, what's happened?" Thane asks. "They have shlicked back their hair. Oh look! A fourth man hash arrived. He looksh very natty(2)." "DEP, no doubt is the culprit for the slick look," Thane comments. I, meanwhile, have been preparing the Ether-Stones for a search and find mission. If Stiletto has made copies, I will find one. "I'm ready for the jump to Ether." "I'll monitor you from here. Bongo will keep watching the Men," Thane says, walking over to the Ether-stones, "If anything changes, we'll tell you." I nod, and pass my hands over the stones. A column of mist springs from the circle of stones, and I enter the Ethershpere(3). My thoughts run wild for moment as the odd sensation of cold and electricity course through my exoskeleton. Then I remember, the image. If I don't keep my thoughts fixed on the Portrait of the Man, I won't find it. "Mordain has left the group. You'd better hurry! They're nearly at the gate," I can hear Thane say. The Portrait... keep my mind on the Portrait. Many images begin to stream towards me. I pick at the few that look correct... but to no avail. No images of the Man. "Bale has been captured!" I hear Thane yell, "Wait! Greased has the original! Stiletto is instructing HawkAngel to find and destroy the copies! You're almost out of time!" I frantically grab at any of the images I can. I know that HawkAngel needs no help to enter the Ethershpere. He can be here in an instant. But wait... "Did you find it, mashter?" Bongo asks me as I return from the Ethersphere. I drop several hundred images to the floor. "It has to be in here somewhere," I breathe and slip to the floor. "Bongo, get me a Guinness, will you?" (1) - The Pool of Sight is an advanced Scrying Mirror allowing Zorak to view distant lands close up. (2) - Natty, adjective meaning "trim and stylish." (3) - The Ethersphere is a region of Terra where thoughts become reality. It is also an extention of the Earthly "Ethernet".
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Greased (#178) "Geez," HawkAngel sez, "sounds like Bale's 'hammering out a new blade,' if ya know what I mean." The passionate cries of Stiletto abound, attracting the attentions of the denizens of Old Tarakia. "What's that?" one mutters. "Sounds like someone in pain – and LIKING it!" answers another. "Bale?" Greased sez, "Nah, that ain't Bale." HawkAngel stops short. "Whaddya mean, that ain't Bale?" "It's is doppelganger, don't ya know?" Greased sez. "The real Bale would NEVER forget his comb." "Right you are, my friend." From yet another shadow, Bale steps forth, grinning rakishly. He punches the Hawk in the shoulder playfully. "C'mon, dude! You know me better than that!" HawkAngel phews! "Bale, yer a pal!"
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 ??? "No doubt," Greased answers. "Let's drink on -- OH MAN!" "What?" Greased winces. "Dammit... that warm fuzzy feeling... my image, it's... it's still out there! IT HAS BEEN REPRODUCED HUNDREDS OF TIMES!" "Who? Man, those creeps better pay royalties!" snarls Bale. "It's... it's..." Suddenly, calm overtakes Greased features, though the pain remains clearly etched in his eyes. "It's Zorak... that Mass Media Mogul! He's on it, he's doing it, he's..." "Going to mass produce Greased The Man calendars on a scale unimaginable," finishes HawkAngel, snapping his fingers. "Or..." Greased considers, "Perhaps WORSE! Perhaps he'll make tool, a tool which will give him dominion over ALL THE WOMEN OF TERRA!" HawkAngel and Bale eye Greased skeptically. "Well," reconsiders Greased. "When we're not around, of course." "THE FIEND! We must stop him!"
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Zorak (#755) Thumbing through the images, I find the picture of Greased... looking... well... he's blushing! Bongo helps me up off of the floor after a fit of laughter. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and begin the spell that will complete the Portrait of the Man's power. Once complete, the Portrait should give me dominion over human and Elvish... "Mashter?" quizzes Bongo, looking up from the Pool of Sight. "I'm busy Bongo!" I snap at him, "Can't you see that I'm trying to finish the Portrait of the Man? I have to get this done before Greased and the others find out I have the image!" "Uhm... too late." "What?" I run over to the Pool of Sight. Bongo is right. They know. Damn the DEP and it's powers. I have to get the image out of here before they come for it. But how? Who can I get to... Ah-hah!
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Thane (#2092) Warchild ... *bonk* You have just recieved one swift bonk on the head by the Clue by Four. The crime? Taking the game seriously. Oh, and for posting like _90_ times in the span of an hour or three! Jeeze! Oh, and another... *bonk* Just because I felt like it. Bale, Greased and all you other folks... *bonk* For letting someone ruin the flow of the story. Get back to work already!! GAME ON!! Thane, Drinking his tea, and listening to the story... DEP? Me? Nawww. Have any idea what that stuff will do to your hair in like, five or six years?
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Bale (#3195) Bale shakes his spinning head... The posts? The Chimay? (blue or red, btw...) The bonks? Who knows! All he knows is this- The photos are safe, the DEP is in hand, and the females are happy. That's how all stories end! Happy! And this one is DONE! So just take --- wait... Greased? What's that? What's the matter? I'll get the DEP. Anyone know where my comb is...?
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Feath (#34) It's not over until the fat lady sings....(Feath looks down...nope...looks at stiletto..nope...mazzy, nope...oh oh...) don't look like its over, bale. we need a fat lady!
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 TheFatLady (#6753) [A rather rotund woman appears on the BH stage, which creaks and moans and cries out "Oh MAMA!" It is a magical stage, after all...] Someone called? Tank you, tank you! I sing for all of you, my pretties! Tank you! Yes, yes. Yes. Tanks... SHUT UP! Ahem... Me me me me meeeeeee! [DEEP BREATH] Oh the end is nigh, the tale is done, The Men of Terra are united as one, Though manly, cool, independent and sexy hot, They came together and let not The women of Terra dictate their moves Though the women made sexy hot moves Yeah, the tale is done! Yeah, the mission is won! Whoo hoo! Tank you, tank you my pretties! TheFatLady, A major fan of TMoT and the GFC! I loves ya, my pretties ;-)
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Zorak (#755) It's not over until the fat lady sings....( ...unless some says otherwise! Great song, btw Part 1: The Journey The Men of Terra ride on, Zorakward. Their faces are set, their eyes flash. They know the price of attaining the film – the blood, sweat, tears -- and it's one they've decided to pay... It is, afterall, more valuable than any other object in this wiggedy wiggedy whacked-out world: Greased, blushing. Or so the myths run Part 2: Conflict... Builds... Character! "Heya, Zorak! Gimme that film!" Greased cries up from the foot of Zorak's mighty tower. Silence. Then, from the top of the tower, a huge mass of crimson armor leans over the parapet. "Make him, why don'tcha!" cries Thane. "Don't you make us build character!" yells HawkAngel! "Yeah, we got too much for Terra to handle as it is!" Bale adds. Zorak, the Emerald Rogue, sticks his head over the parapet. "What are you TALKING ABOUT?" "Conflict... builds... character!" gasps TMoT. "If that's true, then we're gonna be buncha regular yahoos whooping it up!" cries Thane, leaping from the tower... ...and crumpling on the ground. A pregnant pause, then: "Ouch.." "THANE! OH MY GOD!" cries Zorak, head disappearing from the parapet. "Dude, that's a REALLY tall tower," comments Greased.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Greased (#178) Part 3: The Secret Meeting That You Guys Don't Know Took Place! "...okay, then what?" "Then, uhm... we shay Thane took a real bad whalloping from HawkAngel!" "Not before I beat the crap outta Bale and Greashed, though!" cries out Thane, leg and cast propped on the table. "Beer wench! Another round here!" "Okay, good. So there was a big battle, it was dead even, and it was only by chance that the 'mighty' Greashed finally wreshled the reproductionsh of his picsh from my 'mighty' fisht," Zorak laughs. "And no one will ever know the TRUE exchange, the real price paid for the film!" "Shounds good, shounds good," Greased sez, swigging beer. "You think we should add a detail about all the women fainting for fear that one of ush might have died, thush depriving all of Terra of one of the rare breed known as 'Man-Shtudsh'?" "Nah, that's just undershtood, dude!" Bale declares. "Then it'sh shettled!" cries HawkAngel, as the beer wench approaches. "Greased...?" With a sigh, Greased takes a mug o' ale from her tray, sets it before Zorak, and sez: "Price paid." Part 4: The End... [On Stage in the Banquet Hall] "Then my pal HawkAngel whalloped Thane!" "Eeewwww," ews the audience. "But not before my pal Thane whalloped Greased and Bale!" puts forth Zorak. "Aaahhh!" ahs the audience. "Yep, quite the epic battle that was. Sure was," sez Greased, appearing to accidently flex a muscle but really doing it on purpose. "Sigggghhhhh...." sighs the audience.
Guest Minta Rose Posted January 4, 2002 Report Posted January 4, 2002 Bale (#3195) Epilogue: As night settles over the BH, and the crowds of adoring fans dwindle away, Bale and Greased sit back in their personal Banquet Hall black leather recliners, and look back on a long day. Greased: Well, we got the film back, made friends, found DEP, and caused swooning all over the world. Bale: Yep. Wonder what tomorrow will be like? Greased: <shrug> Bale: <sip> Greased: <sip> Bale: <gulp> Greased: <guzzle> Bale: Need another? Greased: Yep. Dryads: <in chorus> HERE STUDS! <100k dryads hand TMoT beers> Greased: Yeah, tomorrow will be cool...
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