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  1. Approved by Than. So yeah, title basically says all. This is the new official topic for the TV show known as Star Trek. Discuss any of the 5 series or various movies, fan films, comics, spinoffs... whatever. I guess I'll start off the discussion. What is your favourite series? Mine would have to be Voyager, with DS9 following behind. Next Gen is my least favourite, except for maybe Enterprise, but I've not seen enough of it to judge. Love them all though, really. Discuss away!
  2. ***I'm not entirely sure where to put this, but I guess that's okay since there hasn't really been precedent for this kind of thing*** Po-Wahi: The Carver’s Husi Welcome to the Culinary Chronicle! My name is Poraru, owner of the famous Comet restaurant in Po-Koro, where Turaga Onewa himself dines. After the Ta-Koroan chronicler visited our village and helped Toa Pohatu cure the plague, I decided it’s time for me to venture beyond my home as well, but instead of adventure, I shall seek out the greatest dishes Mata Nui has to offer. My travels will undoubtedly take me across each six Wahi, but before we get to that, I might as well start off with a local favourite. The Carver’s Husi has spread across Mata Nui long ago and is particularly popular in Ta-Wahi as well due to the spices used, however as the name suggests, it originated here, among the dunes of Po-Wahi. The dish is favoured by the carvers among us, hence the name, and is traditionally eaten after they return to the Koro following a hard day’s work in the sculpture parks. What you will need: 1 Husi breast Cheese (best from Le-Wahi!) Oil Sour cream Ta-Wahian Paprika Powder Salt Pepper Pan Glass protodermis platter First of all, you’ll need to filet the Husi breast if it isn’t already, then cut it up into chunks of desired size. Remove and bloody or fatty parts, as well as any stray bones (if you keep Rahi at home, they’ll surely be thankful for the treat!). Once the slices are prepared, salt one side, flip them, then pepper the other. You’ll need to cook them in oil, in the pan, before moving on to the over, which you ought to pre-heat at this point. You can be generous with the oil, as we’ll need it later, but don’t go overboard. There is no need to thoroughly cook the Husi, just until they’re white all over and a tad red here and there. When ready, lift the meat over to the platter, and pour the remaining oil over it. Rub the Paprika Powder into the slices, lather them in sour cream and finally top them off with the grated cheese and into the oven they go for a good 10-15 minutes, or until they’re ready. Wait for it to cool off before serving, and always allow for the remaining oil to drip off before placing it on your plate – if you don’t, you’ll leave a mess and that much oil is hardly savoury! I suggest rice, croquettes or steamed vegetables as company. With such a hearty mean to give me strength, I’m ready to head off into the desert. We’ll see where my journeys lead me, and what kinds of interesting recipes I discover. I hope that local cooks from across Mata Nui will also contribute to my Chronicle, so that all Matoran may benefit from the flavours of all six Wahi.
  3. Casualtyby Legolover-361 * * * “And now we join our field reporter, Susan McConnell, right on the scene. Susan?” “Yes, thank you, Isaac... No riots yet in New York City, but terror is in the hearts and minds of many New Yorkers this morning. The mysterious figure standing on the horizon is unlike anything we’ve seen before. It looks vaguely humanoid from a distance with two arms and legs — you can see it there, in the ocean —and it hasn’t seemed to move at all since, um, this morning. We don’t know yet — authorities don’t know what it’s doing, what it is, but we’re told that they’re looking into it. “It’s emitting very powerful radio waves on a wide array of frequencies; authorities haven’t yet, um, interpreted what message, if any, they contain, but we’re assured that the waves carry definite signs of intelligence. It’s possible the figure we see on the horizon is automated, but until we can get a better scan of it, we don’t — won’t know if it contains any life.” “So — Susan — it hasn’t made any movements?” “No, Isaac, and that’s the odd thing. Authorities are — they’re saying that they are, uh, looking into it, looking into finding, um, more in depth methods of scanning the thing; there’s a lot of radio interference that’s fouling the readings, or so I’m told.” “Are there — are there any theories — I mean, about what that thing is or could be?” “Believe me, there are plenty — uh, I’ve heard plenty of them, from... concerned citizens, from authorities, from everyone. There are a lot of rumors going around, you know; some people say this is an alien, uh, construct, and the authorities are saying that this, uh, figure is very unlikely to have originated from Earth.” “Any indications of what it’s made of?” “No. As I said, the radio interference is — is, uh, fouling up our instruments. Authorities are baffled. What? — excuse me—” “Susan, what is it? — who are you talking to?” “...I’ve just received word that the strength of the radio interference is increasing.” “Increasing?” “Yes, it’s increasing at a — well, what may be a slow exponential rate but an exponential rate nonetheless. Authorities advise NYC’s citizens to remain on alert, to stay inside their homes, and to—” “Um, Susan, your — your audio is, uh, breaking up—” “It must be the interference — disrupting radio waves — oh my God, what is it do—?” “...Susan? Susan? Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve lost contact with Susan. We’ll report on further updates as soon — regain contact — producer’s telling me we’re breaking—” * * * From a distance and through thick cement walls, the sounds of battle — of gunfire and shouts and explosions — were reduced to a hum. In the dark, it seemed especially eerie. Antoinette Bickering stared at the ceiling, a blanket pulled around her body, and wondered how loud the cacophony was outside. War’s deafening volume ought to be obvious, but she had never truly considered it until it came just outside her door. Time passes oddly in the dark: She couldn’t recall how long ago she had run into the cellar upon the wailing of sirens and the shouts of emergency personnel to secure your things and yourselves, there wasn’t much time. The urge to peek outside was great, but Antoinette had long ago accepted that she was, at heart, a coward; she would probably faint if she saw what was outside, and she might bump her head as she fell, and then she’d be unconscious in her cellar with the door open, her head bleeding, and her heart threatening to give up on her. Better to stay put. Apart from a couple books, a flashlight, her blanket, some canned food, and a handheld radio that could at the moment only play static, her cellar contained a few stacks of cardboard boxes that she had never bothered to unpack after she moved to her current home; an electrical outlet; two long, wooden shelves on opposite sides of the cellar; and a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling. The light bulb had flickered annoyingly when Antoinette had tried to turn it on, so she left it off. Reading was impossible in the dim light, but her nerves were probably too frazzled to permit reading even under satisfactory illumination. A dull boom shook the cellar. Antoinette’s next inhale drew dust into her lungs. She coughed and, with an effort, doused her urge to light a cigarette. Outside the door, someone screamed. Machine guns roared in response. The cellar rumbled as if an oil tanker of monstrous proportions was driving by. There was another scream — the cellar was rattled again — someone was pounding on the door, crying, “LET ME IN! PLEASE, LET ME IN!” Antoinette froze, her mind vacillating between “fight” and “flight”. She could just curl up under her blanket, said the voice inside her head. She didn’t need to open the door; it and her cellar walls were the only defenses she had against whatever dangers lay outside. The poor soul out there should have found shelter... Now the voice was distinctly sobbing. “Please,” it wailed. The pounding grew arrhythmic, interrupted sporadically by the doorknob rattling. “Please...!” The blanket fell to the floor as Antoinette stood up. She opened the door quickly, catching only a glimpse of a gaunt figure before pulling him — or her? — inside and shutting the door. Her fingers were damp when she drew them away. She fumbled for the light chain and yanked on it; the light was uncertain but enough to illuminate the red stains on Antoinette’s fingers. She swallowed her trepidation and instinctively looked around for a sink. Her cellar had none. The figure had curled into a fetal position on the floor, mumbling “oh God” at odd intervals in a voice deep enough to be male. He raised his head and, for the first time, looked Antoinette in the eyes. His face was thin, pale, and dotted with stubble. A roman nose cast a shadow over his right eye. Blood covered his forehead and cheek, gleaming in the sort of morbid fashion Antoinette had only ever seen in the old horror films she had watched. “You saved me?” he whispered before a coughing fit racked his figure. There was blood on his shoulder, too. And on his chest. And his knee. Antoinette pursed her lips, looking from him to the only blanket she had thought to bring down. “I don’t know,” she said. * * * The first aid kit Antionette found in one of the cardboard boxes was a godsend. She only regretted finding it after using her only blanket to tie up one of the man’s wounds. He was disoriented: uncertain diction, slurred tone, muddled sense of time, and spotty memory. His actions were drunken but somehow scarier than that — maybe because Antoinette could tell they weren’t from alcohol consumption but from blood loss. He called Antoinette “Mom” twice (it didn’t help that she was old enough to be his mother), said something vague about an explosion, and once seemed to entirely forget where he was. Taking off his shirt to better treat his wounds revealed burns along his right side. In a couple places, the top layers of skin had burnt away. Not knowing what else to do, Antoinette covered his arm and torso with burn ointment and left it uncovered. His right eye’s pupil was milky; Antoinette gathered from snippets of their conversation — or what could be deemed analogous to conversation — the explosion that wounded him had also blinded him. Or maybe he tripped and blinded himself by falling on a rock. He was unclear on the subject, and Antoinette was afraid to ask too much of him. What else she did gather was thus: His name was Grant. His last name he mumbled indistinctly. It could’ve been “Johnson”, “Joseph”, maybe something odd like “Joma”, or a few other names besides; Antoinette couldn’t get him to repeat it. He was twenty-something; his birthday was in October, or maybe September. He had been at a friend’s store when the warnings came and hid out there, but it had no cellar; the aggressors blasted out the front glass windows as they passed and shot his friend through the head. Grant waited until they were gone before running outside. That was where his clear memory ended: ergo, when the explosion must have occurred. As she applied antibiotics from a little tube using an ear cleaner, Antoinette asked what the attackers looked like. Grant’s eyes defocused. “Like — I dunno, they were kinda big, and God...” He was shivering now. “I nearly died — what the blazes is... I mean, this is just... like...” His loss of coherent speech corresponded with the amount of moisture in his eyes. Antoinette dropped the subject and wrapped a gauze strip around Grant’s right bicep. It was dyed red almost instantly by the blood, but at least the bleeding seemed to subside. Well, she had to tell him sometime... “I don’t think I can help you more. You need professional medical help.” “It’s just a cut, Mom—” “I’m not your mom,” said Antoinette, and she belatedly realized how forceful her reply had been. Sighing, she continued: “The thing is, I don’t know how to get you to medical assistance. You can’t move. I can’t leave you alone. Everyone was explicitly told to stay underground or under whatever cover they could find.” He blinked. “So what’m I supposed to... I mean, what do I do — have to do — no, what does it have to do with me?” “You’ve, um, lost a lot of blood.” An understatement: at least, a statement too vague to describe the bloody mess that Grant was. “If I can’t get you to professional doctors, I’m afraid you could... well, die.” Silence, save for the occasional explosion or gunfire in the distance. “It’s like the stories.” “What?” “Two people alone against all odds... like, dunno, maybe a film? — oh, what’s its name...” He wasn’t himself anymore. Antoinette ended the conversation there; she set him in a position at least halfway comfortable, told him to get some shut-eye, turned off the cellar light, and then settled down in her own corner of the cellar to wait for... Wait for what? Sleep? Help? Anything would do. * * * Antoinette didn’t realize she had fallen asleep till crying awakened her. She sat up; pain flared between her neck and right shoulder, and she acutely missed her bed. Another cry, like a dog wailing, raised the hairs on Antoinette’s back. Blinking, doing her best to ignore the aches of the rest of her body and failing, she stood up. Grant was curled into a ball on his side, shaking with ragged breaths. One of his bandages had ripped, and blood oozed through the tear. He convulsed, making a sound halfway between choking and sobbing, and wheezed. Red dots sprinkled onto the floor. Antoinette grabbed the first aid kit, turned on the light, and knelt by Grant’s side. He didn’t notice her approach. His body shook, and he coughed again, this time expelling more blood. Was it in his lungs? “Grant?” He didn’t respond, only continued his murmuring. Antoinette now realized he was cursing. “Grant,” she said again, touching him on the shoulder. He twitched and moved his face a little. His skin was clammy. “God, I want it to end,” he whispered, and he curled up even tighter. This time, he coughed the blood onto his arms. There was more of it than before; even his lips were tinged with deep crimson. Antoinette looked toward the cellar door. The sounds of gunfire were quieter now. No more explosions or rumbling. She strained but couldn’t tell for sure if she could hear sirens. Was it safe to go out? Grant cried out an anathema and shuddered, his body growing stiff and his words quieting until all Antoinette could hear coming from his moving lips was air. Helpless, she could only give him space. Maybe she should’ve continued with medical school when she was twenty-something — at least she would have better known what was ailing Grant. Maybe she could have known how long he had left, or if he could be saved at all. Any degree of certainty had to be better than standing between Grant and the cellar door, debating between risking her own life or remaining to watch another’s wane. Maybe there were soldiers out there. Or maybe the attackers were the only ones who would see her. She ran through the possibilities. If she remained, Grant would die. If she left, she might die, and if she did, Grant would die too. If she called for help, soldiers could rush in and help, the attackers could break in and kill or imprison her and Grant, or — and this was perhaps the bleakest possibility of all — no one would hear them. Grant coughed up blood and shouted another obscenity. Antoinette closed her eyes and placed her head in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said to Grant. Then she sat on the ground beside the cellar door, turned away from Grant, and covered her ears. She didn’t hear Grant’s retching. She didn’t hear his final curse. She didn’t watch him expire. But she did hear footsteps. Nausea was her first reaction. She sucked in a breath and held it, ignoring her stomach’s protests, and listened closer. Maybe she was just hearing things. The attackers weren’t hunting people down... were they? As if to respond, the sound of wood and plaster crunched underfoot came from outside. Antoinette uncovered her eyes and looked around. Grant lay unmoving against one wall. She had looked through the cardboard boxes before and found nothing of use as a weapon. Maybe fighting back wasn’t the best idea, anyway. Antoinette was no soldier, just a civilian. If the attackers burst in, she would surrender then and there and pray more fervently than she ever had before — pray that they were taking prisoners. The door was battered from outside. Antoinette recoiled, shoulders tensed, and tried to devise a plan. She could conceal herself by the doorframe and then strike the intruder on the head — if he was wearing a helmet or had a gun, that would be trickier — but what if he decided to shoot first and look later? Again the door was struck, and again, but no plan came to Antoinette. She was still at a loss when the door was burst in and a seven-foot figure covered in armor filled the doorway, moving its gun from Grant to Antoinette and then to the cardboard boxes. It remained there for several seconds as if daring either person to move. Then, unexpectedly, it spoke with a voice that sounded like it was coming from a speaker. “Names?” Heart pounding fiercely, Antoinette indicated herself. “Antoinette Louise Bickering.” She gestured to the body on the floor and struggled with a fresh bout of nausea. “Grant — I don’t know his last name — he’s dead, he was injured by an explosion, I think—” “T14 requesting a medic,” the figure interrupted. It nodded a couple times, then gave coordinates and the street name and returned its focus to Antoinette. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with me.” “Who are you?” “A soldier, ma’am.” “I mean — I haven’t seen soldiers like you except in movies.” “We’re part of the TITAN program, ma’am — trained for combat in exoskeleton suits.” “Does ‘TITAN’ stand for something?” “Maybe. I’ve heard rumors. Anyway, you need to exfil, pronto — my pals’ll pick up Grant — come on!” Antoinette hesitated. “Are the attackers aliens? I mean, like, Independence Day style?” “I can neither confirm nor deny that.” The figure gestured animatedly. “Now, ma’am!” She hesitated only a second more and followed. In her head, she said a prayer of thanks for not having retched yet. * * * “...This message will repeat... “This is an emergency broadcast to all citizens of New York City and anyone within a three hundred mile radius. The U.S. military orders all civilians to evacuate to the west. We’ve dispatched soldiers to deal with the threat. Don’t panic — we need this evacuation to be orderly. It’s recommended you take the following steps to ensure the most effective evacuation possible. If you live in Jersey City, it’s recommended you bypass the New Jersey Turnpike...”
  4. A Lecture on Wealth Treasure “What is treasure?”The man paced back and forth, his features hidden beneath the wild hair that covered most of his face. His strides were smooth and confident, and every step he took seemed to shake the very ground on which he walked.However, his words seemed to have had more of an effect on those around him than his heavy footsteps. All around him, puzzlement crept into previously carefree faces. They had signed up in order to hunt for treasure, not debate upon what the term treasure actually entailed.A single hand rose above the crowd, its owner carrying a confident – although rather bored – look upon his face. After a few moments of hurried gestures to make sure no one would interrupt him, the leader of the group beckoned him to speak.“Treasure is anything that you deem to be valuable.”A murmur ran through the group, and it quickly turned into hurried whispering about whether or not he was correct. Before anyone could come to a reasonable conclusion or even get past the opening points to their argument, the leader once again spoke up. His voice cut through the clamor like a knife, immediately stopping short any conversations that he was not participating in (which was all of them).“That isn’t a bad guess, but I’m sorry to say you are wrong. Very, very wrong. You see, treasure isn’t something as vague as “something valuable to me”; if that were the case, you could call even a ratty old hat a treasure under some circumstances. Friends aren’t a treasure either, and the same goes for family. Those things are all worthless in the greater scheme of things!“So what is treasure? All I’ve told you so far is what it’s not, and I can see that some of you are growing impatient. Well, let me tell you: treasure is anything you have to steal, lie, or kill in order to attain. Treasure is anything you could auction off for a hefty sum of money. Treasure is anything that you can cast aside if it means making a fortune. If you are ever in doubt, ask yourself, “Is it valuable to many people around the world and, more importantly, would they pay for it?” and you’ll be sure to grab to correct item.”He stopped pacing for a moment and turned his head towards the group, his visible eye brightly shining with anticipation. His lecture was nearly complete, and he could already see that it had done its job of stirring the members of the group into a frenzy. Seeing this, he couldn’t help but grin behind his beard.“Now let’s go get some treasure.” Chore Quest Games I stared at the note one the wall, my brain refusing to believe the story my eyes were telling. It couldn’t be true, not today of all days.The note, which had clearly been written by my mother, stated that there was to be no playing videogames until my chores had been finished. Under normal circumstances I would have disregarded these commands, but today she had taken measures to prevent such action.Said measures entailed confiscating the video game console, the cords, and all of my controllers. Knowing her, these things had likely been hidden in separate locations around the house, so even if I managed to find the console it’d be useless without the cords or controllers. The same naturally applied to every situation that didn’t have me finding all the necessary elements, which made me sad.Knowing my luck, it’d be next to impossible to find everything I needed. That left me with one option: to do my chores as I had been asked.The funny thing about work is that I don’t like it. When asked to do something more demanding than lifting a pencil (and indeed, sometimes even then), I tend to find other ways to occupy my time. When someone is breathing down my neck, it means faking work on something else in order. When there was no one to make sure I stayed focused, I would do literally anything so long as it wasn’t productive.But I wanted to play that new video game that had arrived in the mail yesterday. After pre-ordering it, I had patiently waited months for this day. I wasn’t going to spend it doing chores.Well, there comes a time when a man’s got to do what he’s got to do. For me, this was that time.So naturally I spent the next five hours doing what amounts to staring blankly at my computer screen.Finally, after what felt like ages of doing nothing productive whatsoever, I stood up tall and did my best to look heroic and determined. I was finally ready to start working, my nonexistent pre-working rituals having been finally completed.For the next few hours, I worked as diligently as I was able to. I fought the weeds, grass, dust, grime, and all other enemies to those dedicated to cleanliness. They were tough battles, with each boss being tougher than the last, but I gained experience through those conflicts, and emerged from them more powerful than I had ever been before.At last, I reached the final boss fight. I was equipped with all of the greatest cleaning tools the house had to offer, and I had mastered the use of each one. I was truly a foe to be reckoned with. However, my adversary was equally deadly. Standing before me like an ancient monster was the bathroom. Inside my heart, I trembled in fear.I dove into the fight. It lasted for what felt like ages, but eventually, and with both cramped arms and watery eyes, I emerged victorious. I had finally completed my quest, and not a minute too soon; as I went to put away the cleaning supplies, I heard a car pull up into the driveway.I immediately ran up to my mother, the foul schemer who had been the cause of my wearisome quest, and told her of my success. In response to my request to have my rightful belongings returned to me, she looked at me with solemn eyes and in only two words crushed my dreams.“Maybe tomorrow.” The Thoughts of a Recently-Rejected Teenager Amor Omnia Vincit Love will find a way.All you need is love.It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.These are all phrases we have been taught since childhood, their words engrained into our minds. Some people choose to model their entire outlook on life off of sayings like these.I am not one of those people, especially not now. Not now that I’ve been in love and been rejected, not now that I’ve experienced the agony of heartbreak. Yes, third phrase, I’m referring to you. Yes, you do have a special place in my heart.No. I do not agree with any of you one bit.Love is like a hurricane. Oh look, there’s another stock saying. I wasn’t even trying to come up with one that time, and it just came to mind. Great, just great.But wait… Comparing love to a type of storm, and one known for the devastation it tends to leave in its wake, may actually be the most fitting thing comparison I’ve seen yet. Love is a horrible, horrible reaction, and one that the human race would be infinitely better off without. I would love to take back all the time I spent building up the courage to tell you how I felt, only for you to bluntly reject me in the span of two seconds. I’d-Sorry, I have some things on my mind. You know, in case you hadn’t noticed. Which isn’t very likely…Anyway, love is a hurricane. Yup, I’ll agree with that one. Let’s move on to the next one like a museum tour guide and his flock of paying customers and bums who are following the main group. Yup, my little tour will go right past the broken hearts of a billion teenagers, all while I’m spouting random garbage like, “And on your left, you can see the infamous words that drove these poor souls into committing such reckless acts, defying all logic in their attempts to win the heart of another person. Oh, and on your right is another similar sight. Isn’t love just great?”Yes, I’d make an excellent tour guide. Maybe one day, when I’m a bit more level-headed, I’ll make a museum like that. No wait. That’s stupid. Forget I said that.Oh, oh, oh… The granddaddy of all stock saying just popped into my head. Oh, this is infuriating. Wow, I’m having difficulty just typing this, I’m so irritated. Okay, deep breath. In. Out.Love conquers all.You know what, world? I’m calling you out on that one right here, right now.False. Oh so very false. Hostage Ultimatum I looked down at my bloodied hands, my eyes moist with tears that refused to fall. Littered around me were dozens of destroyed objects, all victims of my despair-fueled rampage throughout the empty house.Empty. She was gone, taken. No doubt suffering as I sat and wallowed in my own misery. And yet… There was nothing I could do. I was no hero, and neither the authorities nor I had any idea who had taken her. All we knew was that she hadn’t gone willingly, but I could have told anyone that much.From within my pocket but what felt like a world away, something began vibrating. After a moment, the realization that it was my phone sank in and I pulled it out, still in a daze had what had transpired that day. Judging by the fact that it had only vibrated for a second, I had probably received a text message from yet another person curious as to what the situation was and to tell me how sorry they were for me, how they knew I was suffering and felt my pain, even while they sat in warm and loving rooms surrounded by those they cared about. It had been difficult maintaining my composure during those instances, and I was tempted to ignore this one until I felt a bit better.However, I couldn’t help but check to see who had sent it.The instant I saw her name, I froze up. I wanted to scream at the world for its playing such a cruel trick on my mind, to weep with joy, and to chastise her for worrying us so much all at once. Of course, deep down I knew that the conversation I was about to engage in wouldn’t end up like any of those. With a practiced motion, I pulled up the message and read it, my confused emotions quickly transforming into a singular, mind-rending, rage.Bring $500,000 to the main entrance of the Wood Hills Mall at 10:00 tomorrow morning.So it was a ransom. A ransom I could deal with. The part that infuriated me was the lack of any mention of their hostage. Even when asking for half a million dollars, they had made no indication that the sum would do anything to free her. For all I knew, she was already dead. It was a cold, distant thought, but once it entered my mind it refused to leave. Still, I couldn’t just abandon her.I knew I should talk to the authorities about it, but something stopped me. I don’t know what it was, and looking back I can’t possibly imagine what was going through my head at the time.Even after I arrived with the money I had somehow managed to scrap together at the designated time and place, there was no sign of anyone who might have been expecting to receive half a million dollars. I waited for what felt like hours, my heart racing and my armpits sweaty. I was nervous, nervous for both my own safety and the safety the person I was trying to save.Turns out, that nervousness was perfectly justified. For all my efforts, all my stupidity, I received a bullet to the heart. As I lay there, dying upon the concrete and amidst all the gum that people had carelessly tossed aside, I pressed my hand against my chest. I pulled it away, examining the crimson blood. It was beautiful in its own way, death was. Loss Character Story I walked over to a tall, middle-aged man sitting with his head in his hands, his proud back bent in sorrow. I had seen many others like him during my life, but it was never any less heart-wrenching of a sight. There was no guaranteed way to help people when they were like that, but I had always found that simply talking to them could help ease them a bit.“Excuse me, sir, but visiting hours are over for the day. However, I’d have to be a pretty cruel person to kick you out at this point, so do you mind if I sit down?”The man I was speaking to started at the sound of my voice as if he had been unaware of my presence. Of course, that was probably exactly what had happened; it was clear he had a lot on his mind. After a silent nod from the man, I sat down in one of the chairs next to him. It was almost ten minutes before he felt the desire to speak.“She was only five.”“I’m sorry to hear it.”I was. It wasn’t the first time someone would die so young, nor would it be the last. However, I understood the man’s pain. Losing a loved one is always hard, especially when by all rights they should have the rest of their lives ahead of them.“If you don’t mind my asking, why is it you are wearing that hat of yours while indoors and at night? Does it have some sentimental value to you?”He nodded and reached up to tough it gently, his fingers gently caressing the worn edges. “Before today,” he said, “I would have told you that it didn’t. But she always loved this hat of mine, and now I'm rather reluctant to part with it, even if only for a second. Funny how your attitude towards things can change so drastically over the course of a day, isn’t it?”Now it was my turn to nod, although something I had seen when he reached up towards his hat had caught my attention. It appeared to be a tattoo, but… what it looked like seemed completely random to a person like myself who had only just met this man. However, I suspected that it also seemed random to those who knew him well. As such, I decided to ask him about it.“Sorry to bother you with yet another question, but what exactly is that on your arm? It seems kinda… odd.”At my words, the man chuckled a bit. He had probably been asked that question a hundred times before now, but for some reason that didn’t seem to bother him. Rather, it appeared that he was welcoming the chance to talk to a curious stranger, to share stories of his life with a caring soul. He must have been thinking along those lines, or otherwise why would he have tolerated my questions at such a difficult time in his life?“It’s a wolf with a crown. My wife and I – back when we were still dating – went to a bar one night and ended up completely drunk. During that time, we each got one of these, mine on my right arm and hers on her left arm.”I nodded once more, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he stood up and began to straighten out his clothes.“I know it’s a bit late for introductions, but I’m Doctor- no. I’m Steve. It was nice talking to you, I really appreciate it. Thanks a lot.”With that, he left. Departure Preparation I looked at the suitcase resting on my bed, its interior packed with everything I would need in the coming months. I had spent the last few weeks repeating an endless cycle of planning, packing, checking, re-planning, and re-packing, but now I finally felt as if I was ready to leave.Well, almost ready; I still had to say goodbye to my friends and family.Saying my farewells had been the part I least looked forward to. In fact, you could say I had dreaded it for the past few weeks. I already knew what they would say, but that wouldn’t make things any easier. Saying goodbye is never easy.I left my room, intending to get a drink of water before returning to my sulk in my room. Unfortunately, the moment I stepped foot in the kitchen what seemed like a swarm of people descended upon me.I’d been captured by the enemy, and would soon be forced to endure all manner of horrible interrogation techniques.For the next few minutes, I warded off question after question in my desperate attempt to first relieve my thirst and return to my room. Eventually, my captors decided it was a lost cause and allowed me to make a retreat, an act I took no hesitation in participating in. When I had returned to my room, I sat down on my bed and stared at the television absentmindedly. As boring as it was, it was still better than saying goodbye, I decided.Eventually, though, I knew I would have to say farewell. All my packing had been an attempt to delay that moment for as long as possible, but it had finally arrived. No matter how I might have felt about it, the indisputable truth was that it was something I had to do. I had to leave properly, or not at all.It was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to the house I had grown up in. Goodbye to the friends I had made. Goodbye to the family I cherished. Goodbye to my childhood.Although I didn’t realize it at the time, it was also time to say hello. Hello to new friends. Hello to new opportunities. Hello to difficult times. Hello to adulthood.I was entering a new part of my life, but I was still reluctant to let go of the past.Goodbye.It was all I could manage to say, even in my own thoughts.Goodbye.
  5. Here's the review topic for my epic, Aftermath.-Story Topic-
  6. King Of Shadows“A little boy, stolen from an Indian KingShe never saw so sweet a ChangelingBut jealous Oberon would have the child,knight of his train, to trace the forests wild!”-A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 2, Scene 1Chapter 1 Evenstar loosened his sword in its sheath; the dark, glimmering blade shone in the moonlight. Evenstar was alone, a singular rogue in the summer night. Not too far was Titania, Queen Of The Fae. She loved and lived with her Faeries, concerning herself with glittery wings and shining dewdrops. Eventsar would have slit her throat in a moment and be done with his plots, but Titania wasn't alone. Her Faerie train was with her, as always. Faeries were drifting towards the Queen, who had chosen her bed for the night, an isolated field on the outskirts of Athens.“Come to join Titania's Train, have you?” A voice rang out. Evenstar froze, then turned to see the Faerie who'd spoken.No wings, which Evenstar took as a good sign; Wings were a fad among the young Fae creatures, one Evenstar looked down on with a mix of disgust and hatred. If one could soar through the moonlit skies by charms alone, what use were a set of moth's wings? This Faerie wore a light blue, streaming silk robe; Lapis Lazuli earrings hung through black hair ringed with a simple silver circlet. A pair of orange eyes stared at Evenstar, flicking nervously towards the sword. In stark contrast, Evenstar wore mainly black; long swooping silks, with cloth-of-gold trimmings and red embroidery. He wore no jewels, although an opal rested in the pommel of his sword. This faerie girl held a wooden wand in one hand, gripping it nervously.“Not yet to join, but I come to join in your dances and revelry.” Evenstar said, doing his best to hide his surprise. He'd nearly jumped when the girl had spoken to him.“Then come, Titania tires, and soon we sing her to sleep.” Even as she spoke, he heard Titania's hated voice.“Come, a roundel and a Faerie Song, then to your offices, and let me rest.”What followed was a rough, improvised dance, Faeries jumping and taking flight, spinning and dancing as couples. A rough round of a faerie lullaby, and Titania soon slept. Evenstar saw an opportunity; Titania would sleep, the Faeries would be away. The Faerie Queen would be defenseless.“Hence, away! Now all is well; one aloof stand sentinel!” Evenstar said, raising his voice so the Faeries would hear. The other faeries slowly milled away into this wood near Athens, all but the one who had spoken to Evenstar before.“Might I ask your name, nymph?” Evenstar tried his hardest to speak casually, knowing that two centuries of planning hung on how he conducted himself in the next few moments.“Cobweb” She said curtly. “So why do you come to guard the Faerie Queen? We let you join our dances freely, but few choose guard duty. You are not yet one of us, why guard?” Evenstar almost choked on his words, trying to prepare to lie to her. “What better way to prove my loyalty than to-” She cut him off by holding her wooden wand to his throat.“Tell me the truth, or Castor and Pollux blow you to Bermuda.” She said, her orange eyes blazing with sudden ferocity. Evenstar was transfixed, for a moment, but something shifted behind Cobweb. Evenstar recognized it instantly, a tall Faerie, heavyset, with a golden circlet around his head, and a great black robe billowing around him.“Oberon!” Evenstar whispered as urgently as he could. Cobweb spun, saw the Faerie King, and vanished. Evenstar cursed, his night's plans ruined, but he leapt into a nearby Oak tree and was suddenly invisible against its rough bark and leaves, watching the King below. Oberon apparently hadn't noticed Evenstar, or didn't care for his existence, for he went on, to anoint some potion on Titania's eyes. Evenstar had hoped Oberon was here to do what he'd originally planned, but he knew this potion was something else, a deeper magic, for Oberon recited a verse as he lay it on Titania's eyelids. The Faerie King left a moment later, and suddenly Cobweb was sitting on the branch next to Evenstar.“What was the purpose of that?” Cobweb asked to herself. Evenstar revealed himself then, grinning.“I'd tell you, fair Cobweb, but I haven't the slightest of clues.” Evenstar looked up at the Faerie. “No doubt our King and Queen are at each other's throats once again. Lo, when we could be killing the Knights of Avalon, we squabble amongst ourselves instead.”“Will we go quietly into the night, murdering amongst ourselves, to bring down the only order we have?” Cobweb stared at Evenstar, and the black-clad Faerie felt those bright orange eyes pierce him through.“We will not go quietly into the night. We are the night.”
  7. Here is the thread where you are given a hypothetical job application to get you into any job you want from any work of fiction. Feel free to list them here. By the way, you can choose a job that does not fit your species, but do mention that in the description, as well as where the job comes from (human or not).1-Mail Carrier (Shigofumi)You are probably wondering why, of all jobs I could pick, it would be a mail carrier. Well, these mail carriers deliver shigofumi, which when translated means "posthumous letter". In the Shigofumi universe, people are allowed to write a letter to someone still living, and the mail carriers send out such a letter to the intended recipient. The only condition for the job is that you have to be dead first, as all mail carriers are chosen from deceased people, you also cannot be killed (but I am pretty sure you guessed that).I numbered it in case I wanted to add more, but I will post those later if I think of them. What would you chose?
  8. BioGio

    Delivery

    I just received my two copies of Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges: one book in English, el otro en español. The book consists of seventeen of his best short stories, and I believe that I even managed to find a decent translation (read: not Hurley's). yay
  9. The Observers Visions In the time before time…I watched as the once-mighty planet shattered into pieces, and I watched as the robotic vessel the others called their home started its journey through the stars. I observed the many events that took place within that robot – that universe. From the first hesitant steps of the Matoran to the treachery and eventual downfall of the League of Six Kingdoms; I watched it all. The others also watched, but I had no idea what scenes they were forced to view or if they too suffered the same way I did. It was our duty to examine the history of that world, and for most of us it was a wearisome task. I was no exception to this, for I would often grow tired of observing what had already come to pass.Among our numbers were a few who, like myself, wished to get a glimpse of the future instead of this endless stream of age-old history. When we were not busy fulfilling our duties of examining the past (which, admittedly, was not very often), we would often debate on what the future would be like. You see, we only knew of one time: the past. The present was hidden to us, and the future was an eternal mystery to all. Although you could argue that we each had our own time that could be labeled as the present, I believe most of us would agree that that was nonsense. When we were created, we were forced to cast aside our own lives for the sake of something greater.Or at least that was what we had been told. I found that “something” to be infuriatingly vague, for it gave us no idea of what exactly we were sacrificing what others deemed so precious for. Was it for the Matoran, who lived carelessly happy lives down below? Was it for the future that we would never live to experience, trapped as we were in a bottomless pit of the past?I kept these thoughts to myself, but this was my reason for wanting to see what would come to be. I wanted to know that my sacrificing my own happiness and the similar sacrifices of the others would indeed come to bring about something worthwhile. Even in my heart, I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be worth all that I had endured. I could only label that future as “something”, for none of us knew what it was.That was what I hated about the visions; the future was hidden from even we who had more than earned the right to know it. In all the events I had seen unfold, good had always somehow managed to prevail. So why, when there were those suffering for the sakes of others, could nothing but misfortune come their way?I closed my eyes, hoping in desperation that it would block out the images rushing through my mind. I knew it wouldn’t; I had tried hundreds of times before now and it had never worked before. However, a person could always hope.For me, hope was all I had left. I had hope, not for the future, but to see the future.Visions of the past were all I lived for, and visions of the future were all I dreamed of. Lava Rescue The Legends of Lhii Lhii calmly noted the current of the lava and carefully repositioned his lava board so that he wouldn’t lose control of it. This land of heat and lava was his domain, and he had no intention of making a stupid mistake and dying because of it. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.As Lhii surfed, he thought about what had happened on the island during the last few months. At first, life had been peaceful, with the only concern of the Matoran being a slight overabundance of free time. Lhii had of course used that time to build a name for himself as the island’s best lava surfer, but lately… Lately, there had been instances. A missing tool here, a broken Ussal cart there. Nothing too big, but certainly an annoyance to a Matoran actually invested in their work.But yesterday, a Matoran had gone missing. It was the first time anything like this had happened on their peaceful little island, and it had caused quite the uproar. Lhii himself had been quite shaken by the news, though he tried to conceal his worry with a number of bad jokes and general tomfoolery. The other Matoran all wondered how he could behave in such a manner while such a grave situation was taking place, but Lhii refused to explain his actions.Lhii’s best friend had disappeared, and Lhii was going to find him if it was the last thing he did.* * *Weeks went by, with no sign of the missing Matoran. Eventually, the island gave up, convinced that the Matoran was gone for good. Lhii knew better, though. He knew his friend was out there. He had to be. So Lhii kept looking, even when all trails had long since dried up and everyone else had abandoned the search.One day, Lhii decided to take a short break from his constant search and relax a bit, to give himself a short reprieve. Naturally, this meant participating in a sport which entailed his being separated from a lake of lave by nothing more than a few inches of metallic something-or-rather. To Lhii, lava surfing was the most enjoyable thing in the world.As Lhii surfed, he noticed a small tunnel branching off from the main path. Making his way over to it, Lhii noticed a few scratch marks on the wall. From the looks of it, they belonged to Nui Rama, but what would Nui Rama have been doing scratching at the wall? They were much too big to fit inside, unless…Without hesitation, Lhii flung himself into the tunnel, the heat steadily increasing as he ventured farther in and further down. After a while of surfing, Lhii thought he heard a small voice cry out from the darkness. It was faint, but he had a good idea of who it belonged to. Sure enough, just a bit farther ahead was his friend desperately clinging to the wall in an attempt to not fall into the lava and be horrifically burned (and subsequently killed).“I found you!” Lhii said, his voice ringing with triumph. However, his newly-refound companion did not share in his happiness.“How are we supposed to get back? The slope is too steep to surf up!” the Ta-Matoran wailed.At this point, Vakama stopped talking and looked at the group of Ta-Matoran assembled before him. His eyes were serious, and his voice was grave. However, the Ta-Matoran would never be quite sure if what he said next was in seriousness or not.“And that is why you always surf with a buddy.” The Gift of Flight Flight The setting sun cast a crimson light across the horizon, the combination of the light and scenery creating a breathtaking scene that few ever had the chance to behold. One of those select few was currently staring into the sky, his orange eyes attempting to pierce through the heavens and see what lay beyond. He remained that way until the sun disappeared completely, at which point he awoke from his reverie and began the trip back to the place he called home.For a while, he walked in silence. However, as he neared his “home” a weary voice cried out to him from the darkness.“Ah, there you are! I’d hoped to find you before you left, but was afraid I’d missed you.”The Toa looked at the older being, an indecipherable look in his eyes. The wizened figure was the closest thing to family he had left, but he still had no intentions of being treated like a child.“Master, with all due respect-“The elderly individual lifted up a hand in interruption and said, “I’ve a gift for you.”The Toa bit his tongue, afraid that out of his irritation he might say something he would later regret. However, he couldn’t help but be curious as to what this “gift” was.“I spent a long while contemplating on what to give you before your departure, and this is what I eventually decided upon. If you insist on calling yourself by this new name, then I think it’s only fitting that you’re given this.”From with his robes, the being pulled out a Kanohi mask. Its visage was fierce, almost like that of a monster’s, but it had a certain streamlined quality to it nonetheless. Although difficult to properly examine in the dim lighting, the Toa immediately felt as if the mask was perfect in every way. Its shape, its red and black coloring, everything about it simply seemed like it had been made for him.Noticing his student’s reaction, the elderly being smiled gently. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, “but the true value of a Kanohi lies not in its appearance but its ability.”Although both of them knew that, he had felt the need to say it anyway. There had been times when his student had become a little obsessed with some detail and ended up completely missing the point of the main lesson. Of all the lessons he had taught, this one was possibly the most important, and the one he was most determined to get through to his pupil.“The ability of this particular mask is flight, making it a Kadin. I’m sure you’re familiar with its power well enough to not need any further explanation.”The Toa nodded, his mind already imagining what he could do with this new ability. A whole new style of combat lay stretched out before him, and he was eager to begin exploring it.His mentor, however, had other ideas of how he should use his new mask. The hope had been that once his student experienced some of the joys the world had to offer, he would give up on his path of revenge-laden “justice”. To him, the Kadin was a gift, a chance to see the world in a brand new way. In a way, he was right.The Toa thanked his master for the gift and, after placing the mask upon his face, soared off into the night, his flying unsteady due to inexperience.“Go, Salamander. May my gift help you soar amongst the light and keep you from falling into the darkness...” Arrival Alternate Universe A cylindrical object washed upon a deserted shore. Despite the signs that it had been adrift for many years, its hull gleamed a bright silver in the cheery sunlight. A few birds darted from their trees, curious as to what the new arrival was. One in particular was especially daring, and settled itself upon the strange object. After a moment of deliberation, its head ducked down in a pecking motion, making a considerable noise on impact. The sound rang throughout the air, a signal to all that lived on the island that its heroes had finally arri-Something inside the canister began screaming, initially out of frustration and eventually out of simple rage. The birds, startled by loud noise, retreated back to their trees to observe from a safer distance.After a few minutes, the voice fell silent. The beach seemed strangely quiet in its absence, as if everything on it was waiting with bated breath for what would happen next.They didn’t have to wait long.Blows began to sound out from the canister, with each growing increasingly louder as whatever was trapped inside grew more desperate to be free. The bangs and crashes unnerved the Rahi; they were accustomed to the peaceful sounds of the island, and this strange object and whatever creature it contained had shattered that peace.Suddenly, a hand burst through the side of the canister. Crimson blood ran down its length, and its owner howled in pain. Flames began to escape from the canister, somehow in response to the creature inside.The nearby Rahi all fled, wanting nothing to do with this strange monster that could create fire in response to being injured. Even in their primitive minds, they had plans that didn’t involve being roasted alive because their curiosity got the better of them.Eventually, the creature worked its way out of its prison. It stood tall, its crimson and orange body covered in numerous wounds and of unmistakably masculine design. In its eyes was the rage of a savage animal intent on destroying anything and everything that crossed its path. Gripped tightly in its right hand was a blade seemingly composed of fire, the flames flickering in a way that made it seem like they craved for destruction.The being looked down at his sword, as if hearing the voice of his weapon and its cry for devastation. Slowly, the sword was pointed at the nearby forest. The trees themselves seemed to shy away from the spectacle, as if they knew what was about to happen and wished to somehow wished to escape their fate. Unfortunately, they had no chance for escape; a pillar of fire quickly shot out from the sword and began to consume everything that stood before the being of fire and destruction.And then the creature screamed. It screamed and screamed and screamed. It screamed out of rage, despair, frustration, loneliness, and finally as a challenge to the rest of the island. “Just try to destroy me as well,” its scream seemed to say. It had nothing save the impulse to destroy, the desire to burn.It was meant to be one of the saviors of the island, tasked with the duty of liberating the villagers from an oppressive dark force. Instead, it was a monster.The Toa of Fire had finally arrived. Heart Legacy Vakama watched as the once-beautiful city of Metru Nui vanished in the mist. He, along with the rest of the Toa Metru, had fulfilled their duty of protecting the Matoran, but he couldn’t help but regret that it was necessary to leave his home behind. Sure, there was a new island up above, but it just wouldn’t be the same. There would be no Turaga Dume to gently lead the Matoran, no Coliseum to gather at for sporting events, and no Toa Lhikan to protect the citizens from danger.It felt like only a short while ago that Vakama had watched the Toa and eventually Turaga that he had admired so much taking his last breath and passing away. At the time, Vakama had been distraught at the death of Lhikan, and he had tried his best to ignore those emotions and act as a leader should.Naturally, that had only led to more misfortune. However, that was in the past and a tale for another time. What mattered was that now, on one of the many airships, he finally had the chance to sit down and think properly.With Lhikan’s death and Turaga Dume’s decision to remain in Metru Nui, the Matoran would inevitable end up looking towards Vakama and his teammates for guidance and protection from the forces of Makuta.It just doesn’t feel right. Only a short while ago we were Matoran ourselves, and now we are expected to protect them.If put into this kind of situation a few weeks prior, Vakama would have likely wished that he was a Matoran again. Now, he felt a degree of acceptance towards what lay ahead. It was their duty, tasked to them by the Great Spirit. It had been the job of other before and it would the duty of yet more in the future, but for now it was their task. Their job. Their duty. * * * Six Turaga stood before the recently-awakened Matoran, their smiles outshined only by the expressions of childlike wonderment that covered the faces of the Matoran. It was a new world to them, and also the only world. They had no memories of the past, but that was alright. After all, they had six Turaga there to guide them through whatever hardships they might face.“This is the island of Mata Nui, named in honor of the Great Spirit,” Vakama declared to the Matoran. A few of the Matoran mouthed the words “Mata Nui”, as if the words themselves were a blessing of peace. Looking at the Matoran, Vakama felt a surge of pride for what had been accomplished, and a quiet determination to continue the work that he had begun.Thank you, Lhikan, for trusting us with upholding your legacy. We will keep the heart of Metru Nui safe, even if it is removed from its home; that I promise you. The Flute Music I sat inside my sparsely-decorated hut of leaves and twigs, my project of the last few weeks held gently within my hands. After all those failed attempts, all those late nights spent working on it and improving it, had finally culminated into something magnificent.In my hand rested a new kind of instrument, something I had decided to call the flute. Its design was comprehensible to only one such as myself who had spent countless weeks tinkering with said design. It was beautiful, but I cared not for its appearance. No, all that mattered was the sound. The sound, that mattered immensely. I wanted to try it out, but something stayed my hand. I wanted to be the only one present when it first sang. I wanted to be not only the creator of the first flute, but the first person to listen to its sweet melody.But where to play it? Since he wanted secrecy, the village was out of the question. The swamp was also a bad choice to how dangerous it was. So it had to be away from the Koro, perhaps even the Wahi.Kanae Bay might just work… After all, we Le-Matoran avoid water almost as much as Po-Matoran.With that, I exited the village. It was one of the few times I was glad to be relatively unknown, for none of the few people who knew me were out and about as I left. As much as I valued their companionship, I was preoccupied by my desire to try out my new instrument.But of course, that was only natural.I made my way to the shoreline, thankful once more for our aversion to water. A few seabirds flew overhead, but other than that there was no sign of life. It was there, on the deserted beach situated before a lush jungle, that I first played my flute.It was just as beautiful as I had hoped it to be. Its sweet melody rose gently into thee, caressing my ears with their loveliness. To me, it felt as if a whole new world had opened up before me, beckoning me to step forward and immerse myself in the music. I wasn’t sure if the sound would carry any great distance, but I imagined for a moment what the other Matoran would say when they heard it. Surely I would get the respect I deserved, now that I had wrought such an incredibly instrument.And then a Kewa bird dropped from the sky. I jumped back, startled by its sudden arrival. The Rahi looked at me with an expectant gaze, its eyes asking me something I could not decipher. I glanced down at my flute, the beginnings of an idea forming in my mind. Had it been summoned by my playing the flute? And if so, would I be able to replicate the task? Playing it once more, I waited to see if another would arrive.It didn’t take long. Within moments, an entire flock of Kewa had descended upon me, each somehow drawn by the melody I had played.Oh yes. A whole new world had indeed opened up before me.
  10. Ringoster

    Aftermath

    Aftermath follows the story of Lego Universe, taking place after the collapse of the Nexus Force. I can't exactly give away much more than that... so, without further delay....-Review Topic-Aftermath: Book 1: Secrets of the WastelandsChapter 1: 4:35 PM, Day 437On the horizon of a vast frost-covered field of tall grass, a vehicle zoomed homeward. It’s massive spiked wheels propelling it smoothly over snow and plant-life alike. At it’s controls was a minifigure by the name of Drake Venture.He smiled and gazed at the sun blazing on the horizon. “Today has been a particularly good day,” he thought, “well, minus that little problem this morning...” He was pursuing an outstandingly valuable weapon called the Ancient Fang, which had been juggled back and forth between his crew and the band of elites known as the Black Mercenaries. This morning he had lost the Fang to them again. Though not without a fight, of course.“The darn guys even thought to sabotage the old Behemoth.” He bared slightly to the right and greeted a fellow driver whose Snow-trekker was stopped nearby.As Drake’s Snow-trekker changed course, the piercing light of the setting sun was obscured by a familiar sight; the Fortress. As far as Drake new, it was the single largest community of Minifigures as far as the eye could see, and probably further. Inside was a huge multi-leveled complex of dwellings, shops, roads, parks, alleys, you name it. The place stood nearly 300 feet high and extended 114 feet underground. It offered solace from the harsh and unpredictable extremes of the Wastelands.Drake’s job within the community of 7,000 or so Minifigures was that of a fortune hunter. He lead his small crew consisting of James Navig (or Jimmy, as he was always called), and Tarx Amran on expeditions in search of objects of great power and value. Drake piloted his prize possession, the Behemoth, during these adventures. It was a massively powerful vehicle capable of ramming through whatever got in its way, and surviving the resulting damage.“And now I suppose I’ll have to get inside it and take a look at the damages.” Drake thought.He was nearing the entrance to the Fortress. Upon seeing the entrance gate and the line of vehicles slowly filing in, he reduced the vehicle’s speed until it was slowly rolling along the icy grass, then steered it into place at the rear of the line. It occurred to him that he would most likely meet Shanra Onyx when he went in for dinner at the Dining Hall. The two of them had been good friends, until she joined the Black Mercenaries, and since whoever their current employer was wanted the Ancient Fang as badly as Drake did, the two of them rarely met under friendly circumstances. She was sure to be in a foul mood.“Hey, Venture!” called a voice.A huge Nebula tank rolled up behind Drake’s Snow-trekker. Rob Rench was on the upper deck.“Rench? What’re you doing so close to home?” Drake asked jokingly.“It’s finally time to hand over my research from the dugout!” Rench said.Drake recalled that he had been living in the “Dugout” a research facility for the past 2 or so months.“It must be nice to take in some fresh air again, huh?” He laughed.“You bet. Now if you’ll excuse me...”The tank broke off from the line and crossed through the special access energy gate, bypassing the line of entering vehicles completely. Drake chuckled to himself.By now, it was time for Drake to enter the Fortress. A security guard glancing curiously at the old robes and vases in the back of the vehicle, verified his Venture Co. ID and allowed him in..Before entering the Fortress’s main room, one had to pass through the Factory Hub, a huge side room of the Fortress where all manufactured goods were made. Drake gazed at the minifigures manning drills, presses, vices, and welders of all kinds, spraying sparks and debris on to lower levels.The road sloped upward into the central room of the Fortress. Vehicles entered into a mid-level between the upper living centers and the lower storage rooms, separated by two sets of large, sloping metal platforms called the Steppes. Driving a vehicle up the Steppes was virtually impossible, so any driver wishing to progress further into the Fortress would have to utilize lifts manned by security officers.A squad of white-armored Coalition troopers patrolled nearby. The Coalition was in charge of maintaining order and safety in the Fortress and outlying areas. Drake didn’t consider himself a part of them, since he was officially a member of the defense and exploration group known as Venture Company, although the two were closely tied.The second lift in a row of 4 lowered to allow his Snow-trekker to board it. The Coalition officer in an adjacent glass booth greeted him and looked over the vessel apathetically. When he was satisfied, he threw a lever and the lift began to slowly rise.At the top, Drake drove it across the open floor of the Fortress Central and into the public garage near the Steppes. Inside were several other Snow-trekkers and a valet driver waiting to take his vehicle. He slowed, then jumped out and landed with a thud.Jimmy and Tarx were supposed to be waiting outside to help unload what they must have thought to be a large stash of loot. Drake heard someone jogging towards him.“Didn’t get much today, huh?” Said Jimmy’s telltale young, accented voice.Drake turned to see him beginning to rummage through the Snow-trekker’s cargo.“Oh, i got plenty. Take a closer look.” He said.Jimmy pulled out an ornate looking white leather cape, giving Drake a curious glance.“That’s a frostcloak, not just any old cape.” Drake said.“Anything special about it?” Asked Jimmy, “You know, besides the obvious?”“Yep. Apparently, it gives the wearer ‘control over the forces of ice’.” Replied Drake.Jimmy unhooked the cloak’s clasp and put it on. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.“Hmm, well, it feels colder... Thats about it.” He said, smiling.“That’s pretty much the day’s catch for you.” Said Drake, “A lot of antique items, but nothing useful.”Of course, items like these were equally as valuable as weapons and other commodities, since the higher class citizens of the Fortress paid handsomely for things like these.“So, did you two fix up the Behemoth while i was gone?” He asked.“Uh, yes...” Said Jimmy, “more or less. Good thing you didn’t chase after those black mercs. They took care of the brakes too.”The two of them carried the few items that Drake had found out of the garage and over to the Steppes Drop, a mezzanine overlooking the part of the Steppes that lead to the lower level storerooms. With nothing else to do until Tarx brought the Behemoth over to pick them up, Drake put down the items he was carrying and walked between two of the massive pillars that held up a railcar line above the Steppes.“I don’t see how you can stand that!” Said Jimmy.“What?” Drake chuckled.“Standing right on the edge of a 150-foot drop...”Drake glanced down at the floor below him and shrugged.“It’s pretty much my job.”Within a few minutes, Jimmy spotted the Behemoth heading to their position from the Motor Hall. The huge green vehicle came to a skidding halt, looking just as imposing as ever. Tarx emerged from the open cockpit and made his way down a side mounted ladder, landing with a thud after jumping from the bottom rung.“Ok, let’s load this stuff up and head home.” Said Drake.He grabbed the frostcloak and took it up to the Behemoth’s rear platform. He was about to climb up to the cockpit when Tarx began to speak.”In case you two were wondering, i’ve found out from Menar Pellon who the Ancient Fang was to be delivered to,” He said with his usual tone of indifference, “A minifigure named Pranon Drek. I’m still not sure why, though.”Drake couldn’t recall meeting a ‘Pranon’ or a ‘Drek’ anywhere.“Do you know anything about the guy?” He asked both of them.“Only that he was a Coalition Council member from a while ago.” Said Tarx. “Apparently, he was dishonorably discharged.”Drake was surprised to hear that. He didn’t know that any Council member had ever been removed against their will.“Pellon? Do you even trust that creepy guy?” Asked Jimmy incredulously.“As much as I trust any of the black mercs.” Tarx replied coolly.“I’ll probably see Shanra when I head to the Dining Hall.” Drake noted, “I’ll see if i can learn more from her.”“I hope you aren’t planning on stealing the Fang back.” Tarx said sternly. “Not really. Just wondering who finally ends up getting it.” Drake replied. “C’mon, let’s head home.”‘Home’ for Drake and many other Minifigures was Maraxus, the oldest and most densely populated section of the Fortress. As the Behemoth rounded the furthermost corner of the Motor Hall, he was greeted by the familiar sight of the central chamber of Maraxus, lit by a single overhead floodlight. The ground was covered in sand, and the many structures within the area were covered in rust and dust. Minifigures walked, drove, and hovered this way and that, and Drake was greeted by the sounds of voices and machines reverberating throughout the chamber.“Well, i’m going in for dinner.” Said Jimmy. Without hesitation he vaulted over the side of the Behemoth and on to the ground below. Drake remembered to activate the Behemoth’s new comm systems. He flicked a switch, and within moments he, Jimmy, and Tarx were all connected to the Coalition Comms Center, which allowed Minifigures in the Fortress and nearby areas to communicate with each other. The speakers of the comm device buzzed wildly with a mash-up of voices. Drake tuned it via a control dial until there was only a soft static tone.“Can you guys hear me?” He said tentatively into the device’s microphone.“Yebp, ak eu?” Was the response. Drake tuned the device further and repeated his question, then Jimmy’s voice came in loud and clear.“Hello?”“It’s working now!” Said Drake. “Let’s try and use this thing more often.”He waited for Tarx to jump off, then headed for the Garage, where many of the Fortress’s citizens parked, maintained, and modified their myriad vehicles.The entrance to the Garage was at the base of a rusty old tower at the north wall of Maraxus. Vehicles exited through a passage next to this tower. A Coalition trooper squad was positioned in front to check for thieves, smuggled goods, and the like. Their squadleader, a well known trooper nicknamed ‘Rookie’, greeted Drake as the Behemoth rolled into the garage entrance tunnel.After a short, straight forward drive down the yellow lamp lit tunnel, the vehicle arrived in the garage. It was a towering square chamber with several outer decks and a spiral ramp leading to each. The sound of the machines inside was like thunder. The Behemoth had a designated garage on the 2nd floor, where Drake gave it continual modifications. It was here that he drove it to await another artifact-hunting trip out in the Wastelands the next day.At the dining hall, Tarx and Jimmy were seated at a table with Matt Feren, one of the mysterious silver armored Alpha Troopers who lived in the Fortress. Apparently, they were around before the Awakening, when all of the Fortress’s Minifigures gained consciousness. Like all Alpha Troopers, Feren refused to even mention the subject. As Drake came to take a seat, Feren looked up from his dinner with the casual smile that he had virtually all the time.You can never tell what an Alpha Trooper is thinking. Drake thought.“Ah, Drake. How goes the search for the Ancient Fang?” He asked.“Found it, and lost it again.” Drake said disappointedly.“Those Black Mercenaries must be proving to be quite troublesome.” He said to no one in particular. Drake nodded.“You know, i heard they sold three of those lighting tridents to a group of Aquanition thugs, then stole em’ all back the next day!” Jimmy exclaimed.“Seems like thats all they care about,” Jimmy continued. “The coins.”The three of them continued to talk about the various things troubling the Fortress, and Drake left to put in his order at the restaurant’s front desk. As he turned away, he saw a group of black armored Minifigures walking hurriedly out of the dining hall. Within them was Shanra Onyx. He walked forward and peered closely at the group.“They’re Black Mercenaries alright...” He thoughtThen he noticed one of them, a black and grey armored man, carrying what appeared to be the Ancient Fang. He trailed after them excitedly, trying to remain somewhat hidden.They continued out into a side alley, then up a flight of stairs leading to one of the plazas of Maraxus. Drake was about to climb the stairs after them when he realized that one of the Black Mercenaries was still there. He immediately ducked back behind his spot of safety.“Oh great, it’s him.” Drake thought.He didn’t know the Merc’s name, but he was aware of his ability to become nearly invisible during combat. That ability had caused Drake’s crew many problems in past battles, and the Merc knew how to use it well.“I’ll need to be awfully careful.” He reminded himself.The group of Mercs had situated themselves off to the side of the plaza, appearing to be waiting for something. No more sunlight shone from the skylights above, leaving only the dim yellow glow of the Fortress’s standard light fixtures to illuminate Drake’s path. He stealthily made his way up to a small platform overlooking the plaza, and stood in wait.No more than a few minutes later, a male Minifigure in expensive looking red and black garments appeared and made his way over to the Mercs.“This must be Pranon Drek.” Drake thought. He considered heading back to the dining hall, since Jimmy and Tarx would no doubt be wondering where he went, but he was still interested to see what became of the Fang.Shanra spoke to Pranon, but Drake couldn’t make out what she was saying clearly enough. When the two of them seemed to reach an agreement, Pranon handed over a bag of what Drake assumed to be high valued coins. The two of the swapped items simultaneously, then parted without saying a word.“Well...” Thought Drake, “There goes the ol’ Fang. I suppose it’s just another weapon anyway.”He climbed down from the platform when both Pranon and the Mercs were gone, and was about to call Jimmy and Tarx when the platform in the direction that Pranon had left was ignited by a blinding flash of light, joined by a harsh crackling sound.Drake moved cautiously toward the source of the blast and saw Pranon laying nearby, motionless. He rushed to make sure that the blast had not been lethal. His limbs tingled as he approached, and the scorchmarks on Pranon suggested that he had been hit by an electric blast.“Hey! Can you hear me?” Drake grasped Pranon’s shoulders and gave him a slight shake. “Are you ok?”“Of course i’m not!” He coughed angrily. “Who do you think you are?!”“Sorry, here, let me help you up.” Drake stammered. “I’ll get you to a med clinic.”He began leading Pranon awkwardly back across the plaza.“Hold on!” Pranon exclaimed suddenly,“The Fang! Where’s the Fang?”Drake was unsure what to say. “Someone must’ve taken it.” He thought.Upon hearing a flurry of footsteps nearby, Drake turned to see Shanra moving towards them.“What happened?” She inquired, looking more upset than surprised.Pranon spoke before Drake could explain, “A blast, a blast of some sort. Hit right next to me.”“Any idea who it was that attacked?” She asked.“No. Took me completely by surprise, they did.” He grumbled.Shanra turned her gaze to Drake, glaring. “And what do you think you were doing?” She demanded. “Still can’t leave that Fang alone?”Drake was caught off guard by the accusation. Before he could think of a response, the Black Mercenary that had nearly spotted him earlier materialized next to him and chuckled in a strange, synthesized voice. With a jolt, he realized that this merc had likely been watching him ever since he had spied on the handover of the Fang.“Nevermind that.” She said quickly, “Let’s get him to a med clinic.”
  11. This is a fairly open question that I'm sure everyone here has their views on, and everyone has different things that they look for.If I may first start out with main characters, I like it when a character can be distinctively female without it defining them, much like how a male lead character can be a lead without you having to think "Oh, he's male". There are many works of fiction with male lead characters that many people relate to and admire, even female viewers, and I like it when I as a male find myself relating to a female character in spite of the gender barrier. When a female character can be everything a male character can be without being conspicuous (and without losing her femininity, obviously), that to me is a great achievement.So some examples of certain favorites of mine:Dorothy Gale: I'm referring to generally all her incarnations. I've both read the book and seen the movie, and seen a few hosh-posh sequels and a few ooh-aah sequels. Then I've read an awesome web-comic that's put a sci-fi twist on all of it. In all cases, she's a pretty spiffy person who, in spite of being rather cheesy, came before the modern push to make every character completely new. Therefore, I can admire her for the simple, likable, nice person she is, with simple and easily accessible dreams shared by almost everyone.Alice: From Alice and Wonderland. Of course, it's hard to get past the bias that it's a literary classic that thousands of authors have put their own creative twist on (it was kind of set up that way), but if you get past all the Wonderland stuff, if she's written well she's the quintessential example of a character who proactively works against extraordinary circumstances that would render most characters passive.Wendy Darling: While on the subject of girls who travel to far off fantasy lands, I might as well complete the triad. Whether or not she's the main character is questionable, as often times she's overshadowed by the titular character Peter Pan. However, if one does choose to consider her as the main character and interpret the story from her point of view, she is an awesome older sister and a perfect contrast for Peter Pan. The relationship between them can at times be intensely interesting and curious. Though not the most robust, she is the most complex and developed character in what is the ultimate coming-of-age story.Matilda: From the movie of the same name. That is one of the most awesome children's movies ever. And it was awesome seeing a child who was that smart, because I was very similar at that age.Lucy and Susan:The two girls in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.Ellen Ripley: I thought that the directors were doing a pretty good job of portraying her until the third movie onward (although I didn't mind when they shaved her head). Entertainment Weekly said that not only was she not just some model, but neither was she "defined by the men around her".Josephine March: Louisa May Alcott's true, sincere portrait of herself is filled with such genuine heart that she's as real as the person she represents. I must applaud her. Jo is a beautiful person.Your Honor,Emperor Kraggh
  12. Doctor Norik

    Cloverfield

    SPOILER WARNING Title: Cloverfield Rated: PG13 Summary: "MULTIPLE SIGHTINGS OF CASE DESIGNATE 'CLOVERFIELD'" "CAMERA RETRIEVED AT SITE 'US 447' AREA FORMERLY KNOWN AS 'CENTRAL PARK'" Movie opens: Rob with a camera, some time in April. Rob walks around an apartment building, revealed to be his girlfriend's place. She's naked in bed. Rob wakes her up, and they talk about random stuff for a while. -- Camera cuts to New York street, cameraman revealed to be Jason Hawkins, Rob's brother. His girlfriend, Lily, tells him about a surprise party for Rob that she's planning, as Rob is going to Japan to become vice president of Slusho. She tells Jason to document the evening and retrieve goodbyes from all of the partygoers. He begrudgingly accepts. Camera cuts to inside the party, where people are setting up. Jason walks up to Hudson Platt (Hud) and tells him to take over the camera. At first Hud is reluctant, but then learns that his crush, Marlena, is coming to say goodbye. He accepts, and Jason then give his speech to the camera. Cut to party, everyone's setting up, Hud's collecting several more speeches. Lily discovers that Jason gave the camera to Hud, but then Rob walks in. "SURPRISE!" Hud interviews Rob, blah blah blah. 11 Dollar Guy does not say "You owe me 11 dollars." Hud walks over to Marlena, who obviously does not want to be there. She says a quick goodbye, but Hud persists on filming her. Beth walks in with a new boyfriend, and Rob is totally like "OMG WHAT THE HECK!". He fights with Beth, and asks Lily what's going on. When pestered by Jason as well, we learn that Beth and Rob, erm, "had certain relations", and have not spoken since. Jason and Hud drag Rob into a room where they confront him about Beth. Rob states that it was too awkward to talk to her. Loud roar. Everything shakes. Everyone runs to the TV, and the news reports that an oil tanker has capsized near the Statue of Liberty. No duh, this is a Tagruato boat. Everyone realizes that they might be able to see the tanker from the roof, and head up. Large explosion. Everyone runs down to the street. "I saw it it's alive it's huge!" was not in the movie. Statue's head flies down the street, and people are actually taken pictures of it with their cellphones instead of screaming and running. Hud turns around, and catches the monster crashing through some buildings. Marlena stumbles from the smoke and says that "It was eating it.". A building crumbles to the ground, and everyone hides in a convenience store. Huge cloud of smoke, rubble, and dust flies through the air. The windows to the store explode. Jason walks out, and everyone follows. People are all like "What was that?!". Hud realizes he filmed it, so they rewind the tape and watch. -- Camera cuts to Rob and Beth on their way to Coney Island. -- Back to the present, they all decide to head for the Brooklyn Bridge and escape Manhattan. At the bridge, Rob gets a call from Beth, who is trapped in her apartment. He tries to calm her down, but his cellphone dies. Most of the group stop to stay with Rob, but Jason is swept up with the crowd. He climbs a lamppost to get a better view of everyone else, and starts shouting to Rob. Suddenly, there is a roar. Everyone screams, Rob and Lily are shouting to Jason. He looks up, and sees a giant whip-like monster tail crash down on him, taking out the bridge. The rest of the group manages to run off the bridge, but Jason is dead. Lily is having a mental breakdown, and Rob is silent. Hud tries to comfort him, and fails. Rob then spies an electronics store, where several people are looting. Rob run into it, trying to find a cellphone charger. Hud films the local news on a TV in the store. The monster is visible hitting itself against buildings. Several crab-like creatures fall off the large monster and begin attacking civilians. Hud turns away. The group decides to get to Beth in her apartment, but encounter a military strike against the monster. They run into the subway and decide to walk to Beth's underground. About halfway into the tunnel, Hud realizes there's a light on the camera. He flicks it on, but can't see anything in the dark. Marlena looks down, and shrieks. Hundreds of rats are running away from behind the group. Rob turns on the camera's night-vision, and looks at the ceiling. "Rob..." "What?" "Run." "What?" "Run now!" "What?!" "RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN!" Several crab monsters drop down and attack, wounding everyone and biting Marlena. They all run into a room and look the door. They all decide to try to head above ground. Rob opens a door, and the group finds themselves in a mall complex. They're suddenly ambushed by the military, who bring them to a sort of first-aid center. A dead man with no stomach (i.e. he was just a top half and a bottom half with blood in between) is wheeled by on a stretcher. A glass case with e dead crab monster is also carried past them. Marlena begins to bleed from her eyes, saying: "I don't fell very well, guys...". The army screams: "BITE! WE HAVE A BITE!" Two men in biohazard suits grab Marlena and drag her behind a curtain. Her silhouette begins to expand and expand until it explodes. Blood splatters the wall. Lily screams. Marlena is dead. Rob runs to a soldier and explains that they need to go find Beth. He tells Rob that at 6:00 AM, Manhattan will be destroyed in an attempt to kill the monster. They leave, and Hud is extremely shaken by Marlena death. They calm him down, only to get all worked up again when they see that Beth's building is slanting diagonally. The climb the building next to it and cross at the rooftops. The monster is visible being bombed by jets. Making their way to Beth's room, they find her impales by a metal rod. They pull it out and leave with Beth along their shoulders. She is still alive. In the hall, they encounter another small monster. ROb stabs it with a sharp chunk of metal. It dies. Crossing back and climbing down, they arrive at a helicopter pad, which promises them that they will be taken safely out of Manhattan. Lily is in one copter, Rob, Beth, and Hud in the other. While ascending, a flaming pile of rubble crashes to the ground. That was possibly Lily's copter. In which case, she is dead. Hud looks out the window and sees the monster being bombarded with missiles. It collapses into a building. Hud cheers, but the monster leaps up and swipes the copter out of the sky. They crash in Central Park. Several hours later, Hud wakes up. It's now daylight, and Rob is crushed under part of the helicopter. Hud and Beth help him out, but Hud forgets the camera. He runs back to get it, and looks up. The monster is directly above him. It stares at him for several seconds. Large orange sacks inflate and deflate on the sides of its head. Hud stands perfectly still. The monster then lunges, and eats Hud. After several seconds of chewing, the monster drops Hud from its mouth. Rob runs over to check on him, but it's too late. Hud is dead. Rob picks up the camera and runs with Beth under a small bridge in Central Park. Rob looks at the camera, and says: "My name is Robert Hawkins. Approximately 7 hours ago, some thing attacked the city. If you found this, I mean, if you're watching this now, then you know more about it than I do." He then goes on to name all who died. Jason Hawkins. Marlena Diamond. Hudson Platt. (Presumably Lily Ford, although not confirmed). Sirens sound in the distance, and Beth gives her testimonial to the camera. "My name is Beth McIntyre, etc..." Several explosions sound in the distance, the camera is dropped, and several chunks of the bridge fall on top of it. The only thing heard is Rob telling bet that he loves her, and her him. There are then huge explosions, and the camera stops. -- April, the camera cuts to Rob and Beth at Coney Island. Rob tells her that the camera is almost out of film, and asks her to say how she thought the day went. She smiles. "I had a good day." NP's Rating: 100%
  13. Oh, geez! How could we have missed this? The hidden message of the hacked Tagruato website wasn't TIDOO, it was TIDO Wave! And that leads us to a new website: http://www.tidowave.com Yes. It's some sort of evil environmenatlists. Just like in the novel Ark Angel. So... check out this new site. It seems to be the blog of some guy called "The Green Bandit". Special thanks to http://www.cloverfieldclues.com
  14. Doctor Norik

    Slusho Zoom!

    Welcome to Slusho Zoom, the official blog fan club for Cloverfield. If you do not know what Cloverfield is, please go to the following URL: http://www.apple.com/trailers/paramount/cloverfield There. Intriguing, eh? For those of you who do know what Cloverfield is, welcome. And enjoy the following images: The Official movie poster for Cloverfield. Slusho! makes an appearance in Heroes. Which is totally awesome. The "Evil Ganu" image from the fake-hacked Tagruato.jp website. Anywho, this club is devoted to theories and ridiculous blabber on the subject of Cloverfield.
  15. WARNING! Entire plot details follow! Gee, it's been a while since I've done a movie review. Ah, well. Here goes. Title: Beowulf Rating: PG13 Summary: This drunk guy builds a place, and this mutant fish-demon thinks everyone's too loud, so he goes and kills everyone, and then Beowulf shows up and totally owns, and he cuts off his arm, then he goes to that thing's mom who's actually really hot, but she killed a bunch of guys and hung them from the cieling, so then Beowulf wants to kill her but then they start to make out, and then the king kills himself, so then Beowulf's king, and he's really old, and this guy finds a thing, and he brings it to Beowulf, and he's all like "Woah" and the guy's like "Don't kill me!" and Beowulf's like "Where'd ya find this?" and the guy's like "Over in that place!" and Beowulf's like "Duuuuuuude", so he goes to the place where he made out with Angelina Joeli, but there's a dragon, and it attacks him, so he stabs the dragon, and the dragon's dying, but Beowulf needs to cut the dragon's heart, so he cuts off his own arm, and crushes the dragon's heart, so then Wiglaf is king, because Beowulf is dead, and the dragon was his son, and the wierd monster in the beginning was the other king's son, and then Angelina Joeli wants to make out with Wiglaf, and oh yeah, in the beginning, Beowulf kills a bunch of sea monsters and makes out with a mermaid. NP's Review: 100% AWESOME! Wierd effects but still AWESOME!
  16. Okay. This is it. The official way to sign up for my new movie: "BIALIEN". The plot is basically about Xenomorphs (from the movie "Alien", "Aliens", "Alien 3", "Alien Resurrection", "AVP", and "AVP: R") coming to Mata-Nui and killing everything. Now, I must warn you, if you sign up for this, your character will die. You can choose when, however. The start, middle, or end of the film. Don't think I'm being self-centered right now. I die too. And I'm no the last one alive. I'm not the hero. Now, to sign up for this, I'll need your spritesheet using THIS (credit to Metrukuta). You can also provide a voice for your character. I will need to know if you can or cannot. If not, yet you still want in, I'll get someone else to provide a voice specified to your requests. Now, I will need a full cast for this. So far my only cast members are: -Myself (Norik) -Kabookie -choclatemilk:toa of coffee beans -Dr. Random -A friend of mine -The Darkness of Galifrey -Kortu -Odarca -Laughin' Man -Hakama -Kharu-Kai -Creotoa -GFLK -Fightman Ready? GO! ~~SUPPORT BANNER~~ [img=http://www.majhost.com/gallery/DuckDuck/CC2/bialienbanner.jpg]
  17. THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE THE CAKE IS A LIE
  18. FINISHED Okay, fixed up the quality. It looks a lot better now. Anyone new want to join?
  19. Doctor Norik

    Just One Pic

    Behold! A screenshot of the trailer for BiAlien that I'm working on! Exo gets killed off first.
  20. New poster for the Bionicle Alien crossover movie I'm working on!
  21. Doctor Norik

    A V P 2

    Well, I finally saw the trailer for Aliens vs Predator: Requiem. It looks awesome. Rated R, though. That sucks, but for good reason. More blood in the trailer than in the entire first AVP movie! Well, I decided to make this little doodle in celebration:
  22. Doctor Norik

    A Dusty Star

    Title: Stardust Rating: PG Summary: Star crashes, guy goes to find it. So does an old witch, a bunch of princes, and some other people. NP's review: 8.3/10 -- Not bad, it's got a Chinchilla.
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