oh shit, bittersweet jade/dave, my one true weakness <3 that was lovely, draconic, i especially liked dave reversing so jade wouldn't have to see him die.
(cannonballing in with my headcanon since i looooove accents and think way too much about this sort of thing: my dave has a bit of a texas twinge but hides it, and it comes out when he's especially emotional or relaxed. then he gets humiliated when he realizes it, and also gets poked fun at by john and rose.
but even more fun is my jade's accent, which is completely bizarre and piecemealed due to isolation, and her main influences being tiny bits of media and her grandpa. i have this image of harley being a little eccentric/crazy and adopting a fake, horrific broad australian accent a la steve irwin, which would serve as jade's baseline. in a 'kids meeting first time irl' fic, i can't help but imagine dave just kind of trying not to laugh while jade's all "what what did i do???? D: D: D:"
why are accents so fun, they're so hard to fit into prose. ;_;)
because I spent all my money on horns for my horn pile
brb weeping in the cause for my poverty
Originally Posted by HarMegidon
I just am asking why she is selling sausages at a funeral.
Originally Posted by inexpediency
Everyone is a hedgehog...on the inside.
Originally Posted by Tesseract
On a deadness scale of normal to doorknob I would rate her as double doorknob
Originally Posted by Jitka
fuck yeah sodium hexametaphosphate
that is my favorite hexametaphosphate
Malakin:because its actually the truman show just with ponys
crash826:far too much sense
Malakin:think about it
Malakin:it all makes sense
Originally Posted by Catbread
Those sound like some pretty badass park rangers.
Originally Posted by ranasan
Wow... it's like if someone managed to manifest Missingno. from Pokemon Red and Blue into the real world, grind it up into a fine powder and then snort it.
18:21 Girard so I learned something at the barber:
18:22 Daniel ?
18:22 Girard The entirety of England, London in particular, is actually a stage for the biggest production of the musical Oliver ever made.
18:22 Girard England is a giant musical.
18:22 Girard This explains the small children with cockney accents and giant hats who dance in the streets.
18:23 Daniel ...DAMN YOU MARY POPPINS!
18:23 Daniel DAMN YOU TO HELL!
So much sadness caused by a single fic. I should feel accomplished. (And poverty? That's not good.) xD
One more thing I had already written, but at least it's not as sad as the last one! It's also about Sollux and Terezi.
"Alright, what's this smell like?" Sollux inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to catch every nuance of scent he possibly could. No matter what he did, though, the result was always the same.
"Terethi, it jutht thmellth like cardboard." He heard punctuated sniffing to his right.
"Nope, try again! I promise you, there's color on here." He felt a slight breeze as the scrap was thrust under his nose again for another futile attempt at ascertaining the color on it. Sollux just sighed.
He wished he could see. It would make things so much easier. Terezi said it was just because he wasn't used to going without sight yet, but he felt hopeless. Here he had the best person to teach him how to live without sight, but his body simply wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. His sense of smell wasn't any keener. He couldn't "smell" colors like Terezi could. The longer these ersatz lessons went on, the more useless he felt. He just felt broken and unfixable.
"Terethi, I think thith ith a colothal wathte of time." That made her pause. When she didn't say anything for several seconds, he was urged to go on. "I mean, I'm jutht not ath good ath you. I can't thmell colorth. I can't tathte wordth. None of thith ith going to work, and you're jutht wathting your time on me. We might as well—" He was abruptly cut off by a blow to the back of his head with a long, blunt object. Temporarily dazed, he realized that Terezi was talking.
"—biggest load of shit I've ever heard. You deserve a good drubbing for that."
"The hell, Terethi?! I couldn't even thee it coming!"
"That's what we're training you for! How do you expect to see a blade coming if you didn't even know I was going to hit you?" Her voice still held an edge of annoyance, but she seemed pleased to be making her point. "You've gotta be able to fight, Sollux. I won't accept that you'll just be useless baggage, and neither should you. Us blind buddies gotta stick together, alright?" Sollux shook his head.
"You've got too much faith in me."
"You don't have enough faith in yourself." Sollux didn't realize she was standing until she pulled him up along side her. "Although, in a way, I think you're kinda right. We might be going about this the wrong way. We need to play this by your strengths, not mine. You can still use psionics, right?"
"Of courthe. I don't thee what that hath to do with anything, though. If I can't thee, I can't control anything." The confusion was obvious in his voice.
"What about using them to sense your surroundings?" He blinked in surprise. That was a new idea.
"I... I can try." Reaching out with his mind, Sollux felt a familiar hand of power form. He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there, knew where it was. He could "see" it in his mind's eye. He reached out with it, groping for anything solid, and touched Terezi.
And he could see her, plain as day, with that shit-eating grin on her face that told anyone with the eyes to see her that she was up to something. He let the arm of power dissipate.
"Well, it thorta workth," he said, "but I can only thee what I touch. That'th not really much better than trying to find my way around ath it ith."
"But it could work if you could reach out in many directions at once," Terezi asserted. Sollux nodded, felt stupid for forgetting neither could see it, and then said, "Yeth."
"So," Terezi said, "why don't you make a field of power?" Sollux opened his mouth, then closed it again. Actually, the idea wasn't half as retarded as it had originally sounded. A field...
Sollux went back to the depths of his mind. He pulled out another arm of power, and then another, and another. Tying the three together at their tips, he spread them apart and began to flatten them, making the psionic energy thinner and thinner until finally he had a bubble around himself. He could feel the floor now. With a little exertion, he made the bubble expand along that solid line underneath him. Soon, he saw Terezi, then a wall, a table, a computer—
And then the bubble popped. He gave a small cry of surprise and even jumped. Of course, after that, his legs gave way and he found himself on the floor. That was when he realized that Terezi was laughing.
"What'th tho funny?" He growled angrily.
"You!" Terezi said pointedly and continued laughing. For a moment, Sollux became angry, but then the picture of what he must have looked like ("looked" being a relative term here) when he fell came into his mind, and he couldn't help smiling a bit as well. In spite of his failure, there was still that ray of hope. It had worked, for as long as it had lasted. If he could just practice, build it up, he might... he might be able to see again. Almost normally.
Maybe Terezi was right. Maybe his life wasn't broken. He just had to find new ways to mend it.
Last edited by draconicAlgorithm; 01-04-2011 at 10:17 AM.
So, Post-Sburb alt-session. Let's see just how far we can go before it stops being fanfiction and starts being just fiction.
In the Beginning
In the beginning, there was a village.
No one knows how or why that village was settled, or what the world was like in that time.
All that is known is that the village was small, and had one leader. He was mortal, as was everyone at the time, and he was often meek and unsure.
The villagers grumbled.
"Why should we toil under a leader who does us no good? Let us banish him and find a new, stronger one, who will let us grow and prosper!"
As the dissenters gathered on his home, a bright light came down from the sky. The village's leader was gone. In his place stood a new man.
He was tall, proud, and sure. His shell was bright red, the color of blood. He wore upon his head a golden crown with a single ruby, and a cape black as pitch, imprinted with a hand clenched in a fist.
"I am the Prince of Fury," the man said. "I have come to this world to stake my claim as its ruler and creator."
The mortals were terrified. Only one among them dared to challenge the Prince, and he was laid low within seconds. The Prince recognized his bravery, however, and appointed him ruler over the village, serving only under the Prince.
Thus was the first King made.
"I must leave," the Prince said, after many months. "I have friends who will soon be arriving in the world, and must make their way ready. I shall return, when the time is right."
Under the King, the village grew. Soon it became a city. Many years passed, and the city forgot about its Prince, and the promise he made to them.
He soon returned, however, with four others of his kind following.
The Servant of Time, wearing the regalia of a peacekeeper and carrying a single golden trinket.
The Maiden of Space, enshrouded in a warm green robe and carrying with her all manner of metallic instruments.
The Witch of Light, bright yellow in hue and shining like a beacon, radiating warmth to the world around her.
And the Mage of Shadow, the Witch's sister, who hid herself underneath a black shroud and left darkness behind her like a slug's trail.
The Prince took his rightful throne and introduced his friends to the city. They too were creators of the world and everything in it. Unlike the Prince, however, they did not seek to rule. All they wished was to fulfill their duties as stewards and caretakers of the world.
The Servant of Time taught the people about time's flow, and how time itself had a will and a terrible intelligence. It was his fate to be forever bound to Time's will, and to follow its commands to ensure certain events happened the way Time knew they would.
This would lead to a great many illogical acts and even atrocities at the Servant's hand, but he gave the people fair warning, as he served a greater power than himself. He would act only to save the world he called home from a far worse threat.
A passing soldier took pity on the Servant. He offered protection throughout his travels, provided by both him and the other 49 men he commanded. And they became the first Protectors.
The Maiden of Space taught the people about the fabric of reality, and the strands that wound ever tighter keeping it together. Her tools, she explained, were specially made to repair rips and tears in the world. She was like a Maiden repairing cloth, she said. Only this cloth continually unraveled at a pace that she could barely keep up with.
After being told these things, a young girl offered to aid the Maiden in her labors. She was taken in as an apprentice and shown the true workings of the world, and became the first Seamstress.
The Witch of Light gave the people knowledge of magic. She showed the brightest among them how to illuminate darkness, how to bend fortune to their ends, and how to build up the city using light.
The people she taught became the first Magicians.
The Mage of Shadow taught no one anything. She was a recluse, hiding in the dark places of the city, avoiding the light and her sister, who was its source.
The people of the city grew distrustful, and shunned her. She left one night without complaint, and headed east in search of a more peaceful dwelling-place.
The night followed her, and it was bright for 30 hours.
When the witch heard of this, she went east in search of her lost sibling.
The day followed her, and it was dark for 30 hours.
She and the day arrived from the west, unsuccessful in their search. She grew despondent over her sister's disappearance, and could not sustain the day's presence.
It is said that this is how night and day came to be as long as they are.
@Graven_Image: Ooh, I like this so far. It has a nice mythological feel to it, which really fits with what we've been told about what happens when the players win a game. I'm assuming there's going to be more? I'd like to see what else you do with this idea.
@draconianAlgorithm: Your Dave and Jade piece was brilliantly written, excellent characterization. I loved reading it, no matter how sad and painful it was :<
Thank you! And I'd just like to say I love all your Strider brothers fics. (All of them.) The way you portray the two of them interacting is just so adorable, while still keeping their personalities in mind.
So since I have nothing better to do on the CE lessons, I will write a fanfic. Because that's what you do when you're bored right?
(WARING! Contains fan trolls!)
-- 14:10 --
The troll sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He took a look around the desert he was standing at, spotting nothing but ashen sands, all around dragging to the horizon, a boring, gray, endless surface. He turned around to his dead lusus. While tempted to do the thing everyone else did, he knew he might as well throw his hive in there. He sighed again, and started climbing on the hard shell.
Once he reached the top, he opened the door to his hive. Passing through the sea of useless gadgets, lying on the floor, he finally reached his husktop. Taking a look at the screen, he noticed the trollian client blinking.
-- masterfulTactician began trolling laconicItinerant at 14:06--
MT: Hey Scitam!
MT: Y()u there?
LI: Stop using that emotes.
LI: It's hard to read.
MT: S() you are alive!
LI: That's rather easy to assume.
LI: My lusus died too.
MT: H()w did that happen?
MT: I mean, there are n()thing but sands in the range of kil()meters!
LI: Appearently, a miniature volcano erupted into his stomach.
LI: No idea.
LI: Though I think it's not a coincidence.
LI: That our lusii die like that.
LI: I don't have time.
LI: I should be alchemizing the item I need.
LI: Have you installed the server client?
MT: It's finishing right now.
MT: There! <@u@>
MT: There is a mess in your room.
MT: I never th()ught y()u would be a type t() have a mess.
LI: It's hard to keep it clean.
LI: When a volcano blasts in your floor.
LI: You should start deploying the machines.
MT: ()kay, ()kay. Jegus d()n't be s() impatient.
LI: This is what I mean.
LI: What is this even supposed to be.
MT: I dunn() <@u@>
LI: You done there?
MT: St() asking!
MT: Opportunities multiply as they are seized.
LI: How is this even relevant.
LI: You are quoting Troll Sun Tzu again, aren't you.
MT: Maybe <óuó>
LI: Why am I stuck here with you.
MT: ()kay, I'm d()ne.
LI: I will contact TL soon.
MT: Hey Scitam!
MT: Y()u really sh()uld think up ()f your ()wn em()tes! <@u@>
-- laconicItinerant ceased trolling masterfulTactician at 14:13--
MT: That looks stupid.
-- 16:12 --
Scitam had to admit, he liked the world he have been transported to. Not only did it save his carapace, but it was nice and quiet in here. Compared to the ever-whistling wind of Great Ashen Desert it was relaxing. Then again, he was somehow unsettled that everything was moving.
But it was to be expected when it's named Land of Motion and Silence. He briefly wondered how did he know this name. It's not like he named this place.
A faint sound of clattering caught his attention. Great, the Skeleton sprite was-
I was in fact considering an idea for a Population fanfic, set many years in the future where Karkat is an old grumpy movie director, trying to film his first ever romantic comedy set on Alternia, and struggling with recalcitrant actors.
Last edited by JudgeDeadd; 01-04-2011 at 12:29 PM.
Morthol Dryax on Formspring / My chumhandle's hourslongBrouhaha, have fun "talking" to me since I'm never online!
JudgeDeadd: link was okay, but the file was missing. It's there now, and I agree. I never expected to enjoy writing about gay anal sex! So I offsetted it with an Early Bird Cameo for Carmen Makara. Also, I'm a troper myself so thank you for doing so. As for the biology Ass Pull that started it, my Pretentious Latin Motto isn't "E Clunibus Tractum" for nothing
kmsumrall, Mayor: I don't see why not, considering I allow Shula fanarts
Edit: and now nobody but me and the Judge'll know what the fuck I'm talking about up there
Last edited by Kawa; 01-04-2011 at 12:34 PM.
Reason: Trope Overdosed