WELCOME TO CHALLENGE 8
Tell a story in three short-ish parts. i.e three pictures, three verses, three scenes.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
BIZNASTY
B. What is your first thought when you receive a message on Tumblr, are you excited for the idea of someone from potentially the other side of the world wanting to talk to you or fearful that someone will criticize you? Mostly I am hoping that someone nice will talk to me, or someone new will introduce themselves. However, it is mostly just people I already know asking me things.I. Was the first crush in your life something you had or something someone had on you?If someone had had a crush on me, I wouldn't have known, I am the worst at telling that sort of thing.
Z. Can you understand the mindset and logic used by the opposite spiritual opinion? An atheist understanding the belief in a higher power and vice versa.
Yes indeed, I can see where spirituality could play an important role in someones life/culture/community
N. What was the worst nightmare you ever had?
When I was young, I had one where a lion bit off my hand. And one where I was hiding from an evil witch who would kill me and my animal friends, but I had become her by the end of the dream and it was kind of fun. Haha. Little Sophie.
A. If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any legal, social, or emotional repercussions, would you kill someone?
Yes. I kill someone harmful to the community. Rick Santorum or Dan Savage.
S. Would you rather be the only person in the world that can read minds or have everyone else in the world be able to read minds except for your own?
I would read minds. If everyone else could read minds, they would probably just communicate that way, and I wouldn't be able to.
T. If everyone in the world would automatically only know one language, which language would you choose?
Oh man. Arabic or French because they are very pretty.
Y. Do looks mean anything to you? Don't lie, could you fall in love with someone you thought was ugly?
I would most certainly fall in love with someone who was "ugly." Then again, I find most people attractive in some way, sooo....
Z. Can you understand the mindset and logic used by the opposite spiritual opinion? An atheist understanding the belief in a higher power and vice versa.
Yes indeed, I can see where spirituality could play an important role in someones life/culture/community
N. What was the worst nightmare you ever had?
When I was young, I had one where a lion bit off my hand. And one where I was hiding from an evil witch who would kill me and my animal friends, but I had become her by the end of the dream and it was kind of fun. Haha. Little Sophie.
A. If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any legal, social, or emotional repercussions, would you kill someone?
Yes. I kill someone harmful to the community. Rick Santorum or Dan Savage.
S. Would you rather be the only person in the world that can read minds or have everyone else in the world be able to read minds except for your own?
I would read minds. If everyone else could read minds, they would probably just communicate that way, and I wouldn't be able to.
T. If everyone in the world would automatically only know one language, which language would you choose?
Oh man. Arabic or French because they are very pretty.
Y. Do looks mean anything to you? Don't lie, could you fall in love with someone you thought was ugly?
I would most certainly fall in love with someone who was "ugly." Then again, I find most people attractive in some way, sooo....
FUCK WIZARD
F. If you could take on the exact body and form of anyone else on Earth, who would it be?
- James Franco. I don't think this really needs an explanation
U. If you were old enough and not in a situation where it would be inappropriate, would you sleep with one of your (past) school teachers/professors?
- So there are two options here. 1. I was too young to understand the concept of sexual attraction or 2. they're a person I know and respect as a mentor. So no. And I'm not into older ladies.
C. Have you ever looked down on someone because you thought your religious views were superior?
- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. No....
K. Have you ever watched a full length pornographic movie?
- Has anyone ever? Does anyone ever? I feel like now that pause buttons have been invented we can avoid this sort of thing. I think the only time anyone ever watched a full length porno, rapt with attention at the interesting story and plot line was before we invented a way to shut them off. I imagine early 20th century fops daubing the sweat from their brow with kerchiefs.
W. The men's rights movement, legitimate cause or laughable, and why?
- I had never heard of it and honestly I chuckled a little.
I. Was the first crush in your life something you had or something someone had on you?
- A girl named Brooke had a crush on me in 5th grade. And at that point I didn't even like girls.
Z. Can you understand the mindset and logic used by the opposite spiritual opinion? An atheist understanding the belief in a higher power and vice versa.
- Yes very much so. I believe that faith is a good thing to carry through your life with.
A. If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any legal, social, or emotional repercussions, would you kill someone?
R. Do you have any (secret) feelings of bigotry to any group of people?
- I try my best not to. But I believe that everyone has at least some bigotry simple by virtue of having grown up in American culture. And I catch myself every time I have a thought like that.
D. Would you rather know everything the universe has to offer but in exchange lose all emotions or remain the way you are now?
- Rorschach > Dr. Manhattan.
J O N A H and B
An essay I'm procrastinating on has put me in a slightly bad mood. I somewhat apologize.
J: Could you live without having sex ever (again) in exchange for eternal youth?
J: Could you live without having sex ever (again) in exchange for eternal youth?
Answer: I already answered this one on Tumblr, from the same list of questions that JULIAN STOLE. I will always and forever be Sable Sundew in a parallel universe.
O: Would you rather spend one year with your one true love just to never see them again of the rest of your life with second best?
Answer: This is a stupid question. One true loves don't exist. I think you just groove pretty swell with someone until you two grow apart, which may be never, or which may be in five weeks. But if I did believe in that fairy tale nonsense, I would probably spend the rest of my life with second best, cuz still -- second best out of seven billion people, that ain't too bad. We could joke about how we're stuck together while our one true loves are out there with no one but themselves.
N: What was the worst nightmare you ever had?
Answer: I have no recollection of that. Oh! But last night I was totally dreaming about being in a fist fight with my ex, but it sucked cuz we were both evenly matched, and before one of us overpowered the other we turned into cocker spaniels. So I'll never know what happened.
A: If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any repercussions, would you kill someone?
Answer: Yes. God yes. I just wish it could be more than one person. If someone was being annoying at the post office, holding up the line, I could just kill them and soon be on my merry way.
H: If it meant to solve all of the world's problems, would you spend the rest of Eternity in Hell?
Answer: No.
B: What is your first thought when receiving a message on Tumblr?
Answer: "I hope it's one of those people I like."
I felt this needed to be said
DAVE: (just sittin here whippin up sick lyrical friction)
DAVE: (if you start smellin smoke you caught a whiff of my diction)
DAVE: (if you start smellin smoke you caught a whiff of my diction)
Pandering Challenge 7
So I've never really done one of these that wasn't stupid. And this one looks really fun. I'm sure you guys have seen it on Tumblr. But I am making it a challenge because I won the sweepstakes this week.
Also feel free to opt out of any question.
A. If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any legal, social, or emotional repercussions, would you kill someone?
B. What is your first thought when you receive a message on Tumblr, are you excited for the idea of someone from potentially the other side of the world wanting to talk to you or fearful that someone will criticize you?
C. Have you ever looked down on someone because you thought your religious views were superior?
D. Would you rather know everything the universe has to offer but in exchange lose all emotions or remain the way you are now?
E. If you could live and be healthy without sleeping or eating/drinking, which would you cut out of your life?
F. If you could take on the exact body and form of anyone else on Earth, who would it be?
G. Would you rather burn or freeze to death?
H. If it meant it would solve all world hunger, war, disease and bigotry, would you spend the rest of eternity in Hell?
I. Was the first crush in your life something you had or something someone had on you?
J. Could you live without having sex ever (again) in exchange for eternal youth?
K. Have you ever watched a full length pornographic movie?
L. The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?
M. If you could have the ability to manipulate matter or energy, which would you choose?
N. What was the worst nightmare you ever had?
O. Would you rather spend one year with your one true love just to never see them again or the rest of your life with second best?
P. All the sequels/remakes/adaptations/rip-offs in movies nowadays, good or bad?
Q. Would you rather be dirt poor and emotionally fulfilled in life or be rich beyond imagination and emotionally dissatisfied for life?
R. Do you have any (secret) feelings of bigotry to any group of people?
S. Would you rather be the only person in the world that can read minds or have everyone else in the world be able to read minds except for your own?
T. If everyone in the world would automatically only know one language, which language would you choose?
U. If you were old enough and not in a situation where it would be inappropriate, would you sleep with one of your (past) school teachers/professors?
V. A world without religion, good, bad, neutral?
W. The men's rights movement, legitimate cause or laughable, and why?
X. You can eliminate one of your five senses to substantially strengthen the others, which one and would you do it?
Y. Do looks mean anything to you? Don't lie, could you fall in love with someone you thought was ugly?
Z. Can you understand the mindset and logic used by the opposite spiritual opinion? An atheist understanding the belief in a higher power and vice versa.
The Tale of Doran Thai
I am Very Proud of This Story Because it Fills Three Purposes. Firstly, It Satisfies The Challenge of the Week. Secondly, its a Lovely Exercise in Atmosphere and Tone. And Thirdly, it is the Origin Story for my Latest Pathfinder Character. He is a Motherfuckin' Bad Ass.
The room was lit with a ruddy warm light. A fireplace threw patches and splashes of warmth and light over the assembled figures, Huddled over drinks and tables like candlewax statues melted to a state of earthward resignation over their various occupations. Two men diced quietly in one corner. Another chatted with the bartender in undertones. More than a few stared down trodden into their cups. Their eyes as bereft of feeling as the wooden stools they sat on. There was a low warm murmur that characterized the atmosphere of the tavern. One man remarked to another how surprised he was that a fight hadn't broken out. It was a Friday he said and that was typically a fighting day. His friend looked at him with lost eyes and murmured an aye or a maybe or some other noncommittal grunt of assent.
"Its just damn boring tonight." The first man said. More to himself than his disinterested drinking partner.
"Figure, its on account of the snow."
His friend cast his eyes to the window. The snow was piling higher every minute. Already the white drifts had touched the bottom of the window panes and within the hour it would join with the icicles already hanging from the eves.
It was the first hard snow of that winter. And all the men who had assembled for their customary night at the tavern had become trapped much more quickly than usual. Most here had had previous winters like this. Eventually they'd muster the strength to dig themselves out but for now each man was too warm and tired and resigned to do much about it.
"Damn boring." The first man said again draining his cup and casting an eye toward the bartender. "Hobb! Why don't you tell us all a story to pass the time."
Six Finger Hobb snapped to attention. He had been dozing on a bench near the door and at the mention of his name had awoken.
"Daren, what are you going on about." He called back, rising from his chair and making his way over to the bar.
" No. No. No. Not today. And besides that I won't tell a story unless I know three people at the least care enough to listen."
Immediately three men called out that they too wanted to hear one of his stories. Soon a few more had agreed. The whole bar was soon roused, men pushing chairs to form a rough half circle around the bar and around Hobb.
"Fine you louts. You'll get your story tonight. I've got a good one for you too. Its about one of the greatest hunters in all the land. But what he hunts."
Hobb paused for effect. Making sure his audience was listening. But the snow continued to fall and the men were rapt with attention.
"Are people."
Most of the men laughed. The few who considered themselves clever made blubbering ghost noises as the laughter died.
"You may scoff. But this story is entirely true. I heard it first hand from an old dwarven caravaner who came through a few weeks ago."
Some of the men chuckled. But more scooted their chairs closer in anticipation.
"No one know's this hunters real name. He'll tell you a name but that isn't the name he was born to. Oh no. They call him Doran Thai and I'll tell you exactly why by the end. But first we gotta know where this dwarf came from.
He was born to a pair of good harworking parents deep beneath one of the eastern mountains. And when I say deep I do mean deep. You see our young hunter was what the dwarves call "Unguraz" which means without merit. So his mother and his father were forced to live at the very heart of the mountain. It was always unbearable hot and sulfurous. And it was many years before our hero ever saw the true bright burning sun we all know and love."
Some of the more melancholy patrons looked towards the window and sighed heavily. Their fatalistic minds unraveling fantasies where in the sun would never emerge from behind the gray storm clouds that now shrouded it.
"But our Doran was adventurous. And one day. For who knows what reason. He struck off down an old forgotten mining tunnel, hoping he'd find his way out of the mountain. Up he climbed, hand over gnarled hand, up moldy ladders and sheer cliff faces for so long that the meals he had packed had just about run out. When finally he came to an old wooden hatch at the top of a long stone shelf. That slopped upward in the most promising manner. He pushed on the hatch and it wouldn't budge. He pushed again harder and the hatch lifted slightly. And just then Doran smelled something he never had before: Trees and sun and sky and fresh air such that he had never smelled before. So with a mighty heave he shoved the hatch open and climbed out into the noon day sun.
"On the side of the great mountain with the forest stretching far far down and the mountain behind him stretching high, high up. Down, deep in the forest he caught sight of a plume of smoke. Our hunter was delighted and he immediately struck off toward it. 'It can't be too far.' he said aloud to himself.
"But of course it was. And after seven days of nothing to eat and nothing to drink Doran stumbled into an Elven camp. He flopped down in front of the first elf he saw and begged and pleaded for some food and water. But we all know elves. They're fickle, proud, nasty creatures that would sooner starve a man than succor him. And there was something that Doran didn't know. The dwarfs that lived in Doran's mountain had been cutting down trees to make a path through the forest. What the elves considered their forest. So of course they were none to happy to see a dwarf this close to home. Even a starving one.
"So of course they turned poor Doran away. Three of them grabbed him and chucked him out of the camp like a sack of midden. And so our little hunter, barely even a full fledged dwarf wandered off into the forest and cried. Now here's where the story gets dodgy. Some people say that Doran was filled with a powerful rage, while some say that what he did next was out of desperation.
"But regardless. He lugged himself back to the elves camp and hid himself away in some bushes. And for the rest of the day he watched. He saw where the food was kept, where the weapons were hid, who led the raids. He watched them and he learned them. And most importantly he learned that while elves can see perfectly in the dusk, dwarves can see perfectly in the blackest night. So that night he found himself a sharp rock. He crept up to the elf doing his rounds, guarding the camp from ruffians or beasts. But anyway he crept up behind him, pulled him into the undergrowth and killed him.
"Now the story goes that Doran took his new bow and knife and roosted himself in a tree. And mind you this is against elves, the so called people of the forest. He concealed himself and he waited. And by that morning the village was empty. Seven days later he made his way out of the woods. His beard was down to his knees and full of acorns and leaves and his hair was matted with ivy and bark. He wore all green and brown though his clothes were a little ill fitting."
Some of the more cunning listeners chuckled. Some of the louder and more obtuse were hushed by their comrades.
"But the man I spoke too, swears that this dwarf loping out of the woods like a wolf was the god of the forest, Obad Thai reborn. He wouldn't tell anyone his name but he sold near twenty elf scalps and turned a tidy profit. The people of the town started calling him Doran, the most common dwarven name and the people he killed could of sworn that Obad Thai himself had shot an arrow into their neck."
The men clapped and whooped. Six Finger Hobb was always the best for a story. The whole atmosphere of the little village tavern had changed. From resigned sorrow to the kind of loud drinking, singing, dancing bar the villagers had come to expect. Six Finger Hobb basked for a moment before joining in the festivities. And outside, unheeded now, the snow stopped.
Some of the more melancholy patrons looked towards the window and sighed heavily. Their fatalistic minds unraveling fantasies where in the sun would never emerge from behind the gray storm clouds that now shrouded it.
"But our Doran was adventurous. And one day. For who knows what reason. He struck off down an old forgotten mining tunnel, hoping he'd find his way out of the mountain. Up he climbed, hand over gnarled hand, up moldy ladders and sheer cliff faces for so long that the meals he had packed had just about run out. When finally he came to an old wooden hatch at the top of a long stone shelf. That slopped upward in the most promising manner. He pushed on the hatch and it wouldn't budge. He pushed again harder and the hatch lifted slightly. And just then Doran smelled something he never had before: Trees and sun and sky and fresh air such that he had never smelled before. So with a mighty heave he shoved the hatch open and climbed out into the noon day sun.
"On the side of the great mountain with the forest stretching far far down and the mountain behind him stretching high, high up. Down, deep in the forest he caught sight of a plume of smoke. Our hunter was delighted and he immediately struck off toward it. 'It can't be too far.' he said aloud to himself.
"But of course it was. And after seven days of nothing to eat and nothing to drink Doran stumbled into an Elven camp. He flopped down in front of the first elf he saw and begged and pleaded for some food and water. But we all know elves. They're fickle, proud, nasty creatures that would sooner starve a man than succor him. And there was something that Doran didn't know. The dwarfs that lived in Doran's mountain had been cutting down trees to make a path through the forest. What the elves considered their forest. So of course they were none to happy to see a dwarf this close to home. Even a starving one.
"So of course they turned poor Doran away. Three of them grabbed him and chucked him out of the camp like a sack of midden. And so our little hunter, barely even a full fledged dwarf wandered off into the forest and cried. Now here's where the story gets dodgy. Some people say that Doran was filled with a powerful rage, while some say that what he did next was out of desperation.
"But regardless. He lugged himself back to the elves camp and hid himself away in some bushes. And for the rest of the day he watched. He saw where the food was kept, where the weapons were hid, who led the raids. He watched them and he learned them. And most importantly he learned that while elves can see perfectly in the dusk, dwarves can see perfectly in the blackest night. So that night he found himself a sharp rock. He crept up to the elf doing his rounds, guarding the camp from ruffians or beasts. But anyway he crept up behind him, pulled him into the undergrowth and killed him.
"Now the story goes that Doran took his new bow and knife and roosted himself in a tree. And mind you this is against elves, the so called people of the forest. He concealed himself and he waited. And by that morning the village was empty. Seven days later he made his way out of the woods. His beard was down to his knees and full of acorns and leaves and his hair was matted with ivy and bark. He wore all green and brown though his clothes were a little ill fitting."
Some of the more cunning listeners chuckled. Some of the louder and more obtuse were hushed by their comrades.
"But the man I spoke too, swears that this dwarf loping out of the woods like a wolf was the god of the forest, Obad Thai reborn. He wouldn't tell anyone his name but he sold near twenty elf scalps and turned a tidy profit. The people of the town started calling him Doran, the most common dwarven name and the people he killed could of sworn that Obad Thai himself had shot an arrow into their neck."
The men clapped and whooped. Six Finger Hobb was always the best for a story. The whole atmosphere of the little village tavern had changed. From resigned sorrow to the kind of loud drinking, singing, dancing bar the villagers had come to expect. Six Finger Hobb basked for a moment before joining in the festivities. And outside, unheeded now, the snow stopped.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
A Monologue for Mr. Trilobite
I want to tell you a story. Its a story I've never told anybody.
It isn't very long. And it isn't very meaningful. But I love it. So its really special to me. And its just been in my head for so long and I've kept it so so very secret that its almost hard to bring myself to even discuss this it with you.
He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes, as if about to begin.
No. This doesn't feel right. This is far too rushed. I just figured since I've known you so long that I could just turn the faucet in my head and the whole story would come pouring out. But I really need to preface this. Its just been in my head for so long that sharing it so quickly would almost rob it of gravity. Like my story would lose weight because you weren't ready for it.
He pauses again, composing the preface in his mind.
Okay. So it started as an idea. A kind of "What if" that I just founded upon one day in the shower. Like a light switch had clicked on.
He laughs at himself
I'm sorry. That was terrible. I hate that cliche but its kind of fitting. I can do better than that. It was more like I noticed a painting that I had never seen before. That had hung in my house for as long as I can remember but I had never really seen it. Know what I mean?
But anyway. This "what if" slowly became a premise. You're a writer you know how that happens. And then after a few weeks I had some characters in mind. And from there the whole journey became kind of organic.
Every night I would lie in bed and these men and women would just act in the moments before I went to sleep. I never wrote anything down either. The next night I would always remember just before going shutting my eyes and my actors would keep playing.
And this went on for months. That stretched into years. Its been about three years actually. And I've never even told anyone about it. You're honestly the first.
Okay.
He sighs
I think I'm ready to start now.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Transcription: Mayor Talbot's Address.. (cont)
Transcription: Mayor Talbot's Address to the Colony of Underton, 12/16/2026
Talbot: Greetings friends and neighbors. I'd like to personally thank you, those who have made it, for attending today's address. I know that morale has certainly dropped recently, and while I do not blame those who are not present, I'll have to admit I'm a little disappointed at the turn out. We are certainly not the biggest colony, which allows us to be the closely knit community we are. Refusing to participate in our government just (clears throat) flies in the face of all we stand for. Just because you may disagree with some of my um, policies in the past.
(Several crowd members speak out of earshot)
Talbot: Uh, this is not what I am hear to talk about. My actions regarding the opening of the latch were in the colonies best interest, I refuse to apologize just because some people are overly sensitive about radiation.
(crowd becomes louder)
Talbot: But this is- But this is not what I am hear to talk about. I am hear to address on of the most important issues plaguing our community: Unhealthy weight gain. It is absolutely key to ones well-being to keep a trim build and a healthy, low-fat diet. Thusly, I have taken it on myself to provide us with a 7-step program to help our entire community beat the scourge of weight gain.
Firstly, everyone must eat more vegetables. Green vegetables are important, you don't have to be a medical man to know that. I know our hydroponics program has not been the most successful, some may say it was "counter-productive" in using up all of our water, but we did yield several potatoes this year, and those are plenty green. Faintly glowing, but green.
Secondly, get some exercise! Digging new tunnels to expand our community is a great way to burn some calories and serve your community.
Thirdly, get some fresh air. One can only take so much of this stuffy ol' place, and I'm sure it had some health benefits to breath fresh, surface air. If you are not one of those people who find radiation offensive, of course.
(angry shouts)
Talbot: I'm not saying anything against the more, em, sensitive members of our community, and I'm no scientist, but I doubt seeing the sun for a change can do you much harm.
Crowd member: Yes it can!
Talbot: Eh-hem, I mean, the only way to know is to try it out-
Crowd member: No, it isn't!
Crowd member: Get off of the stage!
Talbot: I really think we are over reacting, I had only had the best in mind for our community, we have to make sacrifices if we ever want to-
(Talbot cannot be heard over crowd. Several people begin to throw rocks and he is forced to leave to stage.)
Talbot: Greetings friends and neighbors. I'd like to personally thank you, those who have made it, for attending today's address. I know that morale has certainly dropped recently, and while I do not blame those who are not present, I'll have to admit I'm a little disappointed at the turn out. We are certainly not the biggest colony, which allows us to be the closely knit community we are. Refusing to participate in our government just (clears throat) flies in the face of all we stand for. Just because you may disagree with some of my um, policies in the past.
(Several crowd members speak out of earshot)
Talbot: Uh, this is not what I am hear to talk about. My actions regarding the opening of the latch were in the colonies best interest, I refuse to apologize just because some people are overly sensitive about radiation.
(crowd becomes louder)
Talbot: But this is- But this is not what I am hear to talk about. I am hear to address on of the most important issues plaguing our community: Unhealthy weight gain. It is absolutely key to ones well-being to keep a trim build and a healthy, low-fat diet. Thusly, I have taken it on myself to provide us with a 7-step program to help our entire community beat the scourge of weight gain.
Firstly, everyone must eat more vegetables. Green vegetables are important, you don't have to be a medical man to know that. I know our hydroponics program has not been the most successful, some may say it was "counter-productive" in using up all of our water, but we did yield several potatoes this year, and those are plenty green. Faintly glowing, but green.
Secondly, get some exercise! Digging new tunnels to expand our community is a great way to burn some calories and serve your community.
Thirdly, get some fresh air. One can only take so much of this stuffy ol' place, and I'm sure it had some health benefits to breath fresh, surface air. If you are not one of those people who find radiation offensive, of course.
(angry shouts)
Talbot: I'm not saying anything against the more, em, sensitive members of our community, and I'm no scientist, but I doubt seeing the sun for a change can do you much harm.
Crowd member: Yes it can!
Talbot: Eh-hem, I mean, the only way to know is to try it out-
Crowd member: No, it isn't!
Crowd member: Get off of the stage!
Talbot: I really think we are over reacting, I had only had the best in mind for our community, we have to make sacrifices if we ever want to-
(Talbot cannot be heard over crowd. Several people begin to throw rocks and he is forced to leave to stage.)
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Within The Magisterium
So this is something I wrote while we were in Europe. The challenge will of course come later but I hope you guys enjoy these couple pages I think I wrote on a train.... Not exactly sure.
Magister Colefax stirred with a practiced relaxed motion. A brazier burned hot beneath what could only be described as his cauldron. The long handle of a metal cut the soupy liquid with slow langurous strokes. Before the magister were a collection of six more cauldrons each tended by a nervous acolyte in the cumin robes of their order, desperately mimicking the magister's gentle wrist movements.
Colefax peered down his think sallow noes into the white gelatinous mess his ladle was stroking. Large eyes with heavy bags beneath noted the color texture and consistency. The magister was a severe, exacting man suggested even more so by his skeletal hands and head. The skin stretched taut over his skull, the ears pulled back by the same winching force that seemed to pull all his facial features. His skin itself the color of the bleached bones barely hidden beneath. This same severity manifested too in his sharp, thin nose which pointed contemptuously at underlings and superiors alike. This was why the Council of High Magicians had chosen him for his current teaching position. And specifically for instructing on the delicate process of crafting a mageye.
"Thorpe." He spoke in quick clipped utterances wasting no words. "Your mixture needs more teafly."
"Delagra. Stir in a figure eight motion."
Colefax himself reached into a bell jar by his side and took a measured handful of white meal, tossing it into his cauldron. His mixture changing colour by a nearly imperceptible degree. White as a thigh bone in red desert sun.
The room was small and stuffy. Low ceilings, the braziers and the shelves of bell jars full of carious herbs and powders trapped the heat in a globe around the seven working magisters. The belljars ranged barely the size of a closed fists to one that three men could scarecely lift. Each filled with a different manner of strange solvent or reagent. Colefax was not one for grand concepts but sometimes the complexity of his work did strike him. A proper mageye was difficult to create and a dependable one even more so.
His own personal mageye stood behind him. Standing taller by a head than the himself its ghost pale gelatinous flesh reflected the light of the fires across its thin chest and down its knee length arms. its head drooped below a pair of sharp shoulders. Its only facial feature the bleeding eye of the Magisterium. Inside its translucent body was an ornately wrought brass skeleton. Heavily runed by Colefax himself. The bones were not those of a human but were crafted specifically for his mageye. The humerus nearly half again as long as a man's and the femur half a man's length. There was no need for a skull or ribs or even a pelvis. The mageye had no organs, no nerves, no sex and no sentience.
Colefax looked down at the carefully drawn cirles before each acolyte's cauldron, chalked black into the freshly cleaned flagstones. Complex instructions ringed the circles. Twisting in arcane knots carefully detailing the commands the mageye would obey, its intelligence, its abilities and its body. Eight small bronze triangles, the size of arrowheads were artfully arranged within the middle circle, the circle that would bind the mageye to its creator and by extension to the Magisterium. In the circle's center was that omnipresent symbol, an inky black eye with seven long spikes jutting down from the bottom like a demon's eye lashes. Each tapering spike representing one of the seven honored branches of magic.
"We are ready." Colefax said sharply eliminating all solemnity and grandiosity from his voice. he extracted his ladle from the cauldron, slowly demonstrating the technique for Delagra's benefit. he tipped the bowl of the ladle in a slashing motion. Covering a swath of his own binding circle with the milky potion. The motion was professional, practiced with the careful economy of motion of a calligrapher if not for the steely cold gaze the magister wore, devoid of all artistic inspiration.
Trinfic slopped the mixture outside the confines of his outer circle. Delagra's stroke was promising despite his ineptitude for the brewing process.
Colefax drew another ladleful and painted another line, crossing with his first over the magisterium's eye, forming an x. His students imitated with trepidation.
The third was poured directly into the center of the circle. And one more poured atop the last.
As the thick slop began to ooze from the center it rippled, then bubbled and finally it began to shake violently as the syrupy liquid became defiantly solid. The slightest upward curl touched Colefax's lip as he watched Trinfic, Thorpe and another acolyte step back from the quickly growing mass. The eight bronze triangles were sucked up into the now mounding slop. And an indistinct humming filled the room as the instructions were read and processed by the mageye's new born consciousness.
Delagra's was nearly formed, the symbol traveling up through the domed body and embossing itself on the front of the creature. The bronze nibs, glittering and sharp, had already moved down to form a hand of claws at the end of tentacular claws. He watched as his own mageye and most of the students' precisely written symbols caused the same.
The mass of potion that Trinfic had created was edging toward him with a strange cellular grace. The copper had become a set of gnashing mandibles that clicked fitfully at their creator. Trinfic took a weary step back hypnotized by the animation of the ooze. In a lightning quick lurch the translucent milky gel had hooked his ankle.
A grin flickered momentarily across the magister's face and malice brimmed in his hard grey eyes. Neither he nor the students made any move. Each was either too absorbed by their own mageye;s transformation or transfixed as only spectators can be by Trinfic's performance.
It took only a matter of seconds. One of the clacking teeth extruded from the thing's maw, reached up with inhuman economy of motion and with emotinless strength cut Trinfic from clavicle to groin. the acolyte strugged briefly, felt the long cut down his body, screamed and died, holding his spilt innards in his hands. Crashing into his cauldrom as he fell, his yellow robes igniting on the coals and spilling the embers behind him.
Colefax looked from the fresh corpse to Delagra. The acolytes mouth was open, dead words of warning on his lips.
Its creator destroyed the spirit departed, leaving behind only the only a mass of cooling gelatin on the boy's sandal. Its purpose accomplished and its revenge exacted.
The magister sent a set of mental instructions to his mageye and the beast shambled forward. Its metallic bones moving to protrude from its skin, one of the runes began to glow and hum softly as it began to disintegrated the bloody mess slowly into ash.
"By Trinfic's example we are all reminded of the danger inherent in binding a spirit to an earthly body. Creating a mageye is dangerous and even a small construct can kill if the mixture is not properly contained inside the binding circle."
Colefax's nostrils flaired as the septic smell of opened guts and the acrid smell of burning flesh mingled in the room.
"The mageye is a delicate and powerful creature. But most of you have succeeded in creating one." His eye's scanned over the six newly assembled creatures. Delagra's straining to hold its shape. Farabun's noticeably dripping. His own textbook. A knee high pile of obedient ooze with two four clawed hands. The eye of the magisterium emblazoned on its trunk.
His personal mageye shuffled back to its place behind him. All evidence of the unfortunate acolyte removed.
"You will all improve in time. Class dismissed." The acolytes scurried out of the room. Colefax ran a hand over his forehead. A habit termed a sign of weakness by himself and so hidden from the rest of the world.
"Only half will survive to receive their tattoos." he though sending another message to his mageye to tidy the classroom. He ran a hand over his immaculately hairless scalp, stopping to stroke that ubiquitous eye inked into his forehead.
I'm thinking of doing something along these lines for NaNoWriMo. Thoughts?
Magister Colefax stirred with a practiced relaxed motion. A brazier burned hot beneath what could only be described as his cauldron. The long handle of a metal cut the soupy liquid with slow langurous strokes. Before the magister were a collection of six more cauldrons each tended by a nervous acolyte in the cumin robes of their order, desperately mimicking the magister's gentle wrist movements.
Colefax peered down his think sallow noes into the white gelatinous mess his ladle was stroking. Large eyes with heavy bags beneath noted the color texture and consistency. The magister was a severe, exacting man suggested even more so by his skeletal hands and head. The skin stretched taut over his skull, the ears pulled back by the same winching force that seemed to pull all his facial features. His skin itself the color of the bleached bones barely hidden beneath. This same severity manifested too in his sharp, thin nose which pointed contemptuously at underlings and superiors alike. This was why the Council of High Magicians had chosen him for his current teaching position. And specifically for instructing on the delicate process of crafting a mageye.
"Thorpe." He spoke in quick clipped utterances wasting no words. "Your mixture needs more teafly."
"Delagra. Stir in a figure eight motion."
Colefax himself reached into a bell jar by his side and took a measured handful of white meal, tossing it into his cauldron. His mixture changing colour by a nearly imperceptible degree. White as a thigh bone in red desert sun.
The room was small and stuffy. Low ceilings, the braziers and the shelves of bell jars full of carious herbs and powders trapped the heat in a globe around the seven working magisters. The belljars ranged barely the size of a closed fists to one that three men could scarecely lift. Each filled with a different manner of strange solvent or reagent. Colefax was not one for grand concepts but sometimes the complexity of his work did strike him. A proper mageye was difficult to create and a dependable one even more so.
His own personal mageye stood behind him. Standing taller by a head than the himself its ghost pale gelatinous flesh reflected the light of the fires across its thin chest and down its knee length arms. its head drooped below a pair of sharp shoulders. Its only facial feature the bleeding eye of the Magisterium. Inside its translucent body was an ornately wrought brass skeleton. Heavily runed by Colefax himself. The bones were not those of a human but were crafted specifically for his mageye. The humerus nearly half again as long as a man's and the femur half a man's length. There was no need for a skull or ribs or even a pelvis. The mageye had no organs, no nerves, no sex and no sentience.
Colefax looked down at the carefully drawn cirles before each acolyte's cauldron, chalked black into the freshly cleaned flagstones. Complex instructions ringed the circles. Twisting in arcane knots carefully detailing the commands the mageye would obey, its intelligence, its abilities and its body. Eight small bronze triangles, the size of arrowheads were artfully arranged within the middle circle, the circle that would bind the mageye to its creator and by extension to the Magisterium. In the circle's center was that omnipresent symbol, an inky black eye with seven long spikes jutting down from the bottom like a demon's eye lashes. Each tapering spike representing one of the seven honored branches of magic.
"We are ready." Colefax said sharply eliminating all solemnity and grandiosity from his voice. he extracted his ladle from the cauldron, slowly demonstrating the technique for Delagra's benefit. he tipped the bowl of the ladle in a slashing motion. Covering a swath of his own binding circle with the milky potion. The motion was professional, practiced with the careful economy of motion of a calligrapher if not for the steely cold gaze the magister wore, devoid of all artistic inspiration.
Trinfic slopped the mixture outside the confines of his outer circle. Delagra's stroke was promising despite his ineptitude for the brewing process.
Colefax drew another ladleful and painted another line, crossing with his first over the magisterium's eye, forming an x. His students imitated with trepidation.
The third was poured directly into the center of the circle. And one more poured atop the last.
As the thick slop began to ooze from the center it rippled, then bubbled and finally it began to shake violently as the syrupy liquid became defiantly solid. The slightest upward curl touched Colefax's lip as he watched Trinfic, Thorpe and another acolyte step back from the quickly growing mass. The eight bronze triangles were sucked up into the now mounding slop. And an indistinct humming filled the room as the instructions were read and processed by the mageye's new born consciousness.
Delagra's was nearly formed, the symbol traveling up through the domed body and embossing itself on the front of the creature. The bronze nibs, glittering and sharp, had already moved down to form a hand of claws at the end of tentacular claws. He watched as his own mageye and most of the students' precisely written symbols caused the same.
The mass of potion that Trinfic had created was edging toward him with a strange cellular grace. The copper had become a set of gnashing mandibles that clicked fitfully at their creator. Trinfic took a weary step back hypnotized by the animation of the ooze. In a lightning quick lurch the translucent milky gel had hooked his ankle.
A grin flickered momentarily across the magister's face and malice brimmed in his hard grey eyes. Neither he nor the students made any move. Each was either too absorbed by their own mageye;s transformation or transfixed as only spectators can be by Trinfic's performance.
It took only a matter of seconds. One of the clacking teeth extruded from the thing's maw, reached up with inhuman economy of motion and with emotinless strength cut Trinfic from clavicle to groin. the acolyte strugged briefly, felt the long cut down his body, screamed and died, holding his spilt innards in his hands. Crashing into his cauldrom as he fell, his yellow robes igniting on the coals and spilling the embers behind him.
Colefax looked from the fresh corpse to Delagra. The acolytes mouth was open, dead words of warning on his lips.
Its creator destroyed the spirit departed, leaving behind only the only a mass of cooling gelatin on the boy's sandal. Its purpose accomplished and its revenge exacted.
The magister sent a set of mental instructions to his mageye and the beast shambled forward. Its metallic bones moving to protrude from its skin, one of the runes began to glow and hum softly as it began to disintegrated the bloody mess slowly into ash.
"By Trinfic's example we are all reminded of the danger inherent in binding a spirit to an earthly body. Creating a mageye is dangerous and even a small construct can kill if the mixture is not properly contained inside the binding circle."
Colefax's nostrils flaired as the septic smell of opened guts and the acrid smell of burning flesh mingled in the room.
"The mageye is a delicate and powerful creature. But most of you have succeeded in creating one." His eye's scanned over the six newly assembled creatures. Delagra's straining to hold its shape. Farabun's noticeably dripping. His own textbook. A knee high pile of obedient ooze with two four clawed hands. The eye of the magisterium emblazoned on its trunk.
His personal mageye shuffled back to its place behind him. All evidence of the unfortunate acolyte removed.
"You will all improve in time. Class dismissed." The acolytes scurried out of the room. Colefax ran a hand over his forehead. A habit termed a sign of weakness by himself and so hidden from the rest of the world.
"Only half will survive to receive their tattoos." he though sending another message to his mageye to tidy the classroom. He ran a hand over his immaculately hairless scalp, stopping to stroke that ubiquitous eye inked into his forehead.
I'm thinking of doing something along these lines for NaNoWriMo. Thoughts?
Monday, October 15, 2012
Final Missive of Dangerous Dan
Many are already familiar with the tales of Dangerous Dan. A reporter turned lone survivalist, his frequent articles have been found strewn across the zombie wastes over an alarmingly large geographical area. All of his writings remain disarmingly cohesive despite some of the strange and savage places they have been found. One dripping sheet of re-purposed toilet paper was found lodged inside the stomach of a massive froghemoth. Another was discovered at the top of Mt. Gulguthratep to the sadness of the Golgothian explorer who believed he was the first to summit the peak. But here is an excerpt from one of Dangerous Dan's final articles this one found at the deepest point in a massive crater. The Ancient Ones only know what he was doing down there. As Ever Praise be to Lord Gulguthratep.
Many people have asked me how I keep so fit. "Dan" they say "Why would you steal our meager food supply as well as our daughter with your roguish good looks." They usually say this either before, after or at the exact time I punch them with my amazingly toned fist. But I have no illusions about my looks, good reader. The puddles of fetid irradiated water I pass on my morning scavenge can only tell me so much. My undead deflecting washboard abs only tell part of the story. The real story is how I got to this pinnacle of physical perfection. And I have here compiled in this very article how you too can become a body builder of the zombie wastes. In seven easy steps you can go from Golgothian couch grub to full fledged ghoul punching glory.
Step 1: Punch Things. And I mean a lot of things. Constantly. Without stopping. If there isn't a living thing around punch a tree. If the trees have been charred to piles of cinders punch the ground. If the ground in your immediate vicinity is composed mostly or entirely of lava why not wind back and punch yourself. This will not only keep your fists and upper arm muscles toned and strong they will also help to expel any fat by the simple natural process of punching it.
Step 2: Eat Right. When I'm not punching things I'm typically running (see step 3) or eating. Its always important to make sure that whatever you're putting in your mouth is edible and won't poison you. But what they don't teach you in "baby survivor school" is that some food that is edible and won't poison you is actually bad for you. Take twinkies for instance, although they're one of the few foods that survived the rise of the ancient ones they're terrible for you. Twinkies can actually make you fat. And while that may sound like a good thing for the long winter it'll never burn off of your thighs.
Step 3: Provoke Monsters. Now this may sound like a stupid thing to do but I've found that during my daily regime of constant punching if I stumble across a zombie herd or a mutant mountain lion punching it or them not only counts toward my punching quota but also sets them chasing me which means a great opportunity to run which in turn means a great way to stay fit. And even if they do catch you, who doesn't love more punching?
Step 4: Climb Things. This seems fairly self explanatory to me. Try to climb and punch everything you run into. It'll keep you healthy and fast and what's better than saying you were the first one to ever climb to the top of Dangerous Dan Mountain.
(Editors Note: There are actually five Dangerous Dan Mountains that have yet to be summited by Golgothian mountaineers.)
Step 5: Drink Lots of Liquids. Except the irradiated mud. It will kill you. I had a man servant for a while and believe you me it will kill you.
Step 6: Do Sit Ups. I've always found this is a great alternative to sleeping. If a shadow cats is lurking right outside the ring of your camp fire just waiting for you to shut your eyes and drift off do some sit ups. Look that sucker straight in the eye and start doing sit ups. Not only will it keep your abs as hard as diamond it will also intimidate the shit out of anything attempting to eat you.
Step 7: Go where no man has gone before. Breathing air untainted by the lungs of other weaker men has been scientifically proven to make you stronger. That is why I personally attempt to go anywhere in the world where no one lives and breathe up as much air as possible and if I can't breathe all the air up I take it in canisters so I can use it later.
Step 8: Carrying canisters of compressed air across vast expanses of wasteland. This one is fairly self explanatory.
I hope with these seven or eight steps you, yes you, can become that wild tamer of the wastes that I have honed myself into. And if I ever punch you in the face or try and steal the air from your lungs it means you're on the right track.
-Dangerous Dan
Many people have asked me how I keep so fit. "Dan" they say "Why would you steal our meager food supply as well as our daughter with your roguish good looks." They usually say this either before, after or at the exact time I punch them with my amazingly toned fist. But I have no illusions about my looks, good reader. The puddles of fetid irradiated water I pass on my morning scavenge can only tell me so much. My undead deflecting washboard abs only tell part of the story. The real story is how I got to this pinnacle of physical perfection. And I have here compiled in this very article how you too can become a body builder of the zombie wastes. In seven easy steps you can go from Golgothian couch grub to full fledged ghoul punching glory.
Step 1: Punch Things. And I mean a lot of things. Constantly. Without stopping. If there isn't a living thing around punch a tree. If the trees have been charred to piles of cinders punch the ground. If the ground in your immediate vicinity is composed mostly or entirely of lava why not wind back and punch yourself. This will not only keep your fists and upper arm muscles toned and strong they will also help to expel any fat by the simple natural process of punching it.
Step 2: Eat Right. When I'm not punching things I'm typically running (see step 3) or eating. Its always important to make sure that whatever you're putting in your mouth is edible and won't poison you. But what they don't teach you in "baby survivor school" is that some food that is edible and won't poison you is actually bad for you. Take twinkies for instance, although they're one of the few foods that survived the rise of the ancient ones they're terrible for you. Twinkies can actually make you fat. And while that may sound like a good thing for the long winter it'll never burn off of your thighs.
Step 3: Provoke Monsters. Now this may sound like a stupid thing to do but I've found that during my daily regime of constant punching if I stumble across a zombie herd or a mutant mountain lion punching it or them not only counts toward my punching quota but also sets them chasing me which means a great opportunity to run which in turn means a great way to stay fit. And even if they do catch you, who doesn't love more punching?
Step 4: Climb Things. This seems fairly self explanatory to me. Try to climb and punch everything you run into. It'll keep you healthy and fast and what's better than saying you were the first one to ever climb to the top of Dangerous Dan Mountain.
(Editors Note: There are actually five Dangerous Dan Mountains that have yet to be summited by Golgothian mountaineers.)
Step 5: Drink Lots of Liquids. Except the irradiated mud. It will kill you. I had a man servant for a while and believe you me it will kill you.
Step 6: Do Sit Ups. I've always found this is a great alternative to sleeping. If a shadow cats is lurking right outside the ring of your camp fire just waiting for you to shut your eyes and drift off do some sit ups. Look that sucker straight in the eye and start doing sit ups. Not only will it keep your abs as hard as diamond it will also intimidate the shit out of anything attempting to eat you.
Step 7: Go where no man has gone before. Breathing air untainted by the lungs of other weaker men has been scientifically proven to make you stronger. That is why I personally attempt to go anywhere in the world where no one lives and breathe up as much air as possible and if I can't breathe all the air up I take it in canisters so I can use it later.
Step 8: Carrying canisters of compressed air across vast expanses of wasteland. This one is fairly self explanatory.
I hope with these seven or eight steps you, yes you, can become that wild tamer of the wastes that I have honed myself into. And if I ever punch you in the face or try and steal the air from your lungs it means you're on the right track.
-Dangerous Dan
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Dear Friends of the Life Raft,
It is my honor to present the tenth edition of the semi-monthly Friends of Life (raft) Newsletter. I hope your homing seagull was able to locate you in time for me to wish you a most Happy Halloween this year. That is, for those of you that even remember what Halloween was. I wish you the most sincerest of luck on finding materials for your costumes with what little you may have. If you have received two copies of this edition, it is because we have received numerous complaints from some folks that their homing seagulls have been devoured mid-air due to the migration of several hybrid-orca pods across Colorado, and we want to make sure our newsletter gets to every one of our subscribers! Our apologies for the inconvenience, if any. We suggest using the extra paper as an emergency backup roll for you Lavatory Raft Units. Or, maybe, your Halloween costumes! Of course, you have probably noticed that the world is getting colder, what now with Fall here and all. That isn’t, however, and excuse to get lazy and let yourself go. At the time I write this, it has now been 2,986 days since our world was accidentally flooded by the amateur evil villain simply known as “EvilKid55755.” Like I mentioned before in the previous newsletter, processes to reverse the flooding are already underway, and eventually “Project Drain-Hole” will return our planet to the beautiful status it once was. What a shame that would be if the first day you were finally allowed to once again walk on land you simply couldn’t because of all the weight you have put on during the cold months, snacking away at the weekly Nourishment Tubes we send out. That is why I have included seven helpful tips to help you stay fit during the days you’d rather stay in your aqua-sleeping bag. It is important to follow these, being fit is key to survival out on the open water!
1. Swimming Exercises. You may think this seems obvious, but did you know that the average flood refugee only steps off their Raft Housing Unit (R.H.U.) once or twice a year? Get out there and swim around! It’s good to know how to swim in a world like ours, and if you’re worried about catching a cold, here’s a little known tip for you: We designed your complimentary aqua-sleeping bags to double as a protective wetsuit.
2. Paddling. Your R.H.U.’s motors need a break every so often! Do yourself a favor and work on your abdominal muscles as you row. Don’t have any paddles? Don’t worry! Your R.H.U. is actually light enough that it can travel via the power of your paddling hands! Paddling exercises also make for great family bonding time, if you have any family left.
3. Jumping Jacks. An old favorite. Try them out! I like to play a game, where I try to see how many jumping jacks I can possibly do between waves crashing against my own R.H.U.. It can actually get really fun once you get good at it!
4. Friendly Quarreling. This tip is only for those of you that aren’t going alone. As we all know, our H2O Purifier Units can only give us about 25oz of purified water each day. With this limited amount of water, it’s only natural that rationing is in order. But why not make a game out of it? Fight one another for the last drop of the day! You’ll both certainly be catching your breath afterwords.
5. Go Fishing. With most of the aquatic life now affected by the flooded radiation plants, the majority of all our planet’s sea life now seems to posses super powerful strength, as well as glowing and multiple heads and other substantial changes. Your R.H.U. should be equipped with at least one fishing rod. It’s going to require some strong arms to reel those monsters in!
6. Waving For Help. You probably already do this on a daily basis anyway. Give yourself a pat on the back!
7. Keep Your R.H.U. Afloat. Ever once in awhile, your R.H.U. may malfunction, and begin to sink. Don’t worry though, if you’re fast enough it’s always possible to save your seaborne home, and what a workout that will be!!
Okay refugees, that’s all for this newsletter. Remember to send your homing seagull back with your confirmation slip to let us know that you have read and received this edition, otherwise we’ll assume that you’ve either starved to death or have fallen prey to the mutant sealife.
Best Wishes,
Barbara Lloyd
(Formerly Sister Sinister)
Founder of the Friends of Life (raft) Flood Relief Organization
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
A HELPFUL TOOL FOR CHALLENGE 5
Here go.
http://chaoticshiny.com/apocgen.php
They also had ads for crossbows on the site where I found this image
Monday, October 8, 2012
"I got nothing going on."
I've picked most of the Challenge's thus far. I think we should have a formal system of who decides
each Challenge every Monday. BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS SYSTEM WOULD BE.
I would personally like a video of someone spinning a giant wheel with all our names on it or something.
But point is I feel bad posting another Challenge. So you guys should post one quickly so I have something to fill my Monday with.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Memo To International Villainy Association
From the desk of Lady Loathsome
Sept 29, 2012
It has come to my attention that our dear IVA has gained a significant amount of new recruits. While this in itself is a happy development in our associations history (I needn't point out the previously plummeting recruitment rates paired with a previously unheard of retirement rates seen in previous years. Personally, I blame the growing market for political and corporate evil, but this memo is not a platform for my own theories which I'm sure you are familiar with) I have heard reports of some of the recruits not being... shall we say, up to snuff. Reports of inappropriate conduct have reached even me, in my negligible bureaucratic position as "Vice Co-Treasurer." Now, I don't mean to criticize our education staff, I know that Sister Sinister is doing all she can to procure scholarships for aspiring villains to attend one of the many fine academies of supervillainy, but I would like to offer my own advice for the young recruits and for the young recruiters.
Thus, I have compiled the attached list for aspiring supervillains and any others interested in the diabolical arts. Feel free to copy this list, maybe hand it out to your associates, post it up in the office, whatever you feel fit.
Attached >> "Advice for an Aspiring Supervillain"
1. Money is a necessity. As you may have noticed if you had done any sort of study of historical villainy, most, if not all, supervillains have copious amount of resources at their disposal. Now, I am not saying that villainy should be a pursuit left to the already rich and powerful, by no means! Most do not even necessarily start out as rich, but gain it through hard work, pulling yourself up by your boot-straps and persistent bank robbery and use of ransom. It's not a complicated thing to do, if you put your mind to it. (I know some will bring up names such as The Human Brick and Mr.Hobo-rrible, but can they even be considered supervillains? The Human Brick was a standard rager, and not too bright to boot. [Did we ever confirm that Mr. Hobo-rrible actually had a photon canon or was he just crazy?])
2. The majority of your time must be dedicated to supervillainy. I can except that some super villains choose to maintain a secret identity, but in ranks of the more successful and infamous we can see a distinct trend: if, at all, a secret identity ought to be an accessory to your villainy. Perhaps as a corporation owner or crazed aristocrat. Starborg, for example. I won't say too much, but he used his, lets say persuasive political identity to push for new base on the moon, playing well into his moon laser program. I see new recruits treating supervillainy as a "hobby" something you just "do on the weekend" which, to me, is a complete disgrace.
3. Costumes are a necessity! Even just a snappy suit in an interesting color, or a domino mask at the least, please people! This is the main difference between us and common criminals. Robbing a bank in a ski-mask and sweatpants makes you a bank robber. Robbing a bank in green spandex makes you a villain.
The good thing about Supervillainy, it's not as strict as Superheroship when it comes to powers. Yeah, it's a nice touch and often very helpful in getting one into the business to start with, but not necessary. I mean, you don't have to have telekinetics if you can pay someone to build you a tractor beam!
Hope this has been an informative lesson that helps YOU on your way to SUCCESS!
Sept 29, 2012
It has come to my attention that our dear IVA has gained a significant amount of new recruits. While this in itself is a happy development in our associations history (I needn't point out the previously plummeting recruitment rates paired with a previously unheard of retirement rates seen in previous years. Personally, I blame the growing market for political and corporate evil, but this memo is not a platform for my own theories which I'm sure you are familiar with) I have heard reports of some of the recruits not being... shall we say, up to snuff. Reports of inappropriate conduct have reached even me, in my negligible bureaucratic position as "Vice Co-Treasurer." Now, I don't mean to criticize our education staff, I know that Sister Sinister is doing all she can to procure scholarships for aspiring villains to attend one of the many fine academies of supervillainy, but I would like to offer my own advice for the young recruits and for the young recruiters.
Thus, I have compiled the attached list for aspiring supervillains and any others interested in the diabolical arts. Feel free to copy this list, maybe hand it out to your associates, post it up in the office, whatever you feel fit.
Attached >> "Advice for an Aspiring Supervillain"
1. Money is a necessity. As you may have noticed if you had done any sort of study of historical villainy, most, if not all, supervillains have copious amount of resources at their disposal. Now, I am not saying that villainy should be a pursuit left to the already rich and powerful, by no means! Most do not even necessarily start out as rich, but gain it through hard work, pulling yourself up by your boot-straps and persistent bank robbery and use of ransom. It's not a complicated thing to do, if you put your mind to it. (I know some will bring up names such as The Human Brick and Mr.Hobo-rrible, but can they even be considered supervillains? The Human Brick was a standard rager, and not too bright to boot. [Did we ever confirm that Mr. Hobo-rrible actually had a photon canon or was he just crazy?])
2. The majority of your time must be dedicated to supervillainy. I can except that some super villains choose to maintain a secret identity, but in ranks of the more successful and infamous we can see a distinct trend: if, at all, a secret identity ought to be an accessory to your villainy. Perhaps as a corporation owner or crazed aristocrat. Starborg, for example. I won't say too much, but he used his, lets say persuasive political identity to push for new base on the moon, playing well into his moon laser program. I see new recruits treating supervillainy as a "hobby" something you just "do on the weekend" which, to me, is a complete disgrace.
3. Costumes are a necessity! Even just a snappy suit in an interesting color, or a domino mask at the least, please people! This is the main difference between us and common criminals. Robbing a bank in a ski-mask and sweatpants makes you a bank robber. Robbing a bank in green spandex makes you a villain.
The good thing about Supervillainy, it's not as strict as Superheroship when it comes to powers. Yeah, it's a nice touch and often very helpful in getting one into the business to start with, but not necessary. I mean, you don't have to have telekinetics if you can pay someone to build you a tractor beam!
Hope this has been an informative lesson that helps YOU on your way to SUCCESS!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Tumblr
So I realize you both are avid Tumblrons and that the Saturday shutdown is going to be a strange and traumatizing experience. I think we should do something on the blog for it.
SOPHIE AGREES WITH THIS STATEMENT. However, I will be busy most of Saturday, and will probably miss the bulk of the emotional trauma brought on by this.
Also Tumblrons is an acceptable term for Tumblr users now.
SOPHIE AGREES WITH THIS STATEMENT. However, I will be busy most of Saturday, and will probably miss the bulk of the emotional trauma brought on by this.
Also Tumblrons is an acceptable term for Tumblr users now.
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