From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 1 09:07:25 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 09:07:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur -- #248 The Chainsawrfs Part One In-Reply-To: <2E8C849C-D0DC-4FA2-8A98-FE7F4AE807A1@earthlink.net> References: <2E8C849C-D0DC-4FA2-8A98-FE7F4AE807A1@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 7/28/2015 10:30 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Andrew posted: >>Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, anticipating bizarre twists/turns... > > Bruce Willis will turn out to be a ghost... > > Arthur "And a sled. A ghost sled!" Spitzer GHOST SLED. It's sort of like the Haunted Tank, but Rosebuddier. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, voom From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 1 10:13:31 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 10:13:31 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #3 In-Reply-To: <69B30591-D7E8-4B72-A892-BD96DA79665F@earthlink.net> References: <69B30591-D7E8-4B72-A892-BD96DA79665F@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 7/31/2015 12:48 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/LNH%20Timeline > > A massive list of almost every LNH story and the order > in which they take place in... > > Probably the best of all the wiki entries. Andrew and Adrian > did an incredible job filling in all the blanks. Awwwwwww! <3 Thank you! Yeah, we kind of back-and-forthed on this one. @-@ I dunno about Adrian, but I basically went through the Google Groups archives (which was much easier back before they "upgraded") and skimmed along, noting stuff, dipping in here and there, looking deeper if it seemed like something might take place out of order, and trying to use my own memories of stuff to poke things into place. There's probably some stuff out of order, especially in the more chaotic eras of LNH history, so I recommend everybody take a look and make sure things feel right. > Arthur "Timing.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, community resources! From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 1 10:14:57 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 10:14:57 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984: Hyper-Ninja Sewer Creatures! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 7/31/2015 10:01 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > "Tribute" comics to certain sewer-ninjas were indeed becoming popular in 1984. > Can we blame the Powernaut's publisher for joining in? And so Power-Star Comics > finds some stars other than Manly-Man. > > http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#2 ...Rinaldo? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Hansel? From seiler at eilertech.com Sat Aug 1 11:46:33 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 11:46:33 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984: Hyper-Ninja Sewer Creatures! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/1/2015 10:14 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 7/31/2015 10:01 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >> "Tribute" comics to certain sewer-ninjas were indeed becoming >> popular in 1984. Can we blame the Powernaut's publisher for joining >> in? And so Power-Star Comics finds some stars other than >> Manly-Man. >> >> http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#2 > > ...Rinaldo? ehh, why not. As you can infer, I didn't overthink the names. The extent of my thinking was, Rinaldo the Rat sounded better than Reynold the Rat. > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Hansel? no, apparently Handel! -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sat Aug 1 12:10:54 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian McClure) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 12:10:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #3 In-Reply-To: References: <69B30591-D7E8-4B72-A892-BD96DA79665F@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On Sat, Aug 1, 2015 at 1:13 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > > Awwwwwww! <3 Thank you! > > Yeah, we kind of back-and-forthed on this one. @-@ I dunno about Adrian, > but I basically went through the Google Groups archives (which was much > easier back before they "upgraded") and skimmed along, noting stuff, > dipping in here and there, looking deeper if it seemed like something might > take place out of order, and trying to use my own memories of stuff to poke > things into place. There's probably some stuff out of order, especially in > the more chaotic eras of LNH history, so I recommend everybody take a look > and make sure things feel right. > > Arthur "Timing.." Spitzer >> > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, community resources! > That was pretty much how it worked. It helped that, since we were building LNH20 at the time, I was doing a readthrough of the work of basically every author who was involved to look for elements we could use. Thus I read every issue of Teenfactor. I kind of liked the one toward the end that was narrated by Nick Carraway. Also, I'm still proud of placing the 9/11 issue during the Clogs of Comedy storyline. Adrian -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sat Aug 1 14:11:25 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 14:11:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 Message-ID: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 Today's pick is the Ultimate Ninja entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Ultimate%20Ninja The leader of the LNH, created by Raymond "wReam" Bingham, has probably appeared in more LNH stories than any other LNH character (well, I can't prove that, but I assume it's true)... This entry has some pictures of him.. Arthur "Ninja Entry.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seiler at eilertech.com Sat Aug 1 18:11:19 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 18:11:19 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/1/2015 2:11 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 > > > Today's pick is the Ultimate Ninja entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Ultimate%20Ninja > > The leader of the LNH, created by Raymond "wReam" Bingham, > has probably appeared in more LNH stories than any other > LNH character (well, I can't prove that, but I assume it's > true)... > > This entry has some pictures of him.. > > Arthur "Ninja Entry.." Spitzer Whaat, we can put art on LNH pages? Watch out, Solar Sails! 8{D> -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 1 22:21:38 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 22:21:38 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/1/2015 5:11 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 > > Today's pick is the Ultimate Ninja entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Ultimate%20Ninja > > The leader of the LNH, created by Raymond "wReam" Bingham, > has probably appeared in more LNH stories than any other > LNH character (well, I can't prove that, but I assume it's > true)... At the very least, he's got the longest 'Appearances' section on the wiki. > This entry has some pictures of him.. Yus! Including trading cards I made using the art from Arthur's LNH Webcomic! > Arthur "Ninja Entry.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Old Navy Ninja Mittens From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sun Aug 2 14:25:20 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 14:25:20 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #249 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Two Message-ID: <6C4E4F11-FC47-4336-9510-F53AF61C921B@earthlink.net> Is a Chainsawrfette Hula Doll Free life worth living? http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-two/ Arthur "Of Course Not..." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sun Aug 2 14:35:33 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 14:35:33 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 Today's pick is the Oddball Legion entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Oddball%20Legion An entry about the alternate Looniverse Oddball version of the LNH listing various wacky counterparts such as Lipid-Artery Lad and Kid-To-Be-Or-Not-To-Be just to name a few. Arthur "Otter Spitter" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 2 15:48:58 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 15:48:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/2/2015 5:35 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 > > Today's pick is the Oddball Legion entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Oddball%20Legion > > An entry about the alternate Looniverse Oddball > version of the LNH listing various wacky counterparts > such as Lipid-Artery Lad and Kid-To-Be-Or-Not-To-Be > just to name a few. Note that all of these links lead to the LNHer the Oddball was based on, with the exception of Lipid-Artery Lad, who was fleshed out enough by Saxon to get his own page. > Arthur "Otter Spitter" Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Arthur Spitz From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sun Aug 2 17:59:43 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 17:59:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <06f11b32-9e70-4441-84f3-68bce048a43a@googlegroups.com> On Sunday, August 2, 2015 at 5:35:33 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 > > > > > Today's pick is the Oddball Legion entry: > > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Oddball%20Legion > > > An entry about the alternate Looniverse Oddball > version of the LNH listing various wacky counterparts > such as Lipid-Artery Lad and Kid-To-Be-Or-Not-To-Be > just to name a few. > > > Arthur "Otter Spitter" Spitzer The Oddballs are one of those concepts that really shouldn't work but somehow do--a parody of something that's already a parody! It's a testament to how much complexity and depth the LNH has. Also how much fun Crosstime Caper-style dimension hopping storylines are. (Young Avengers v2 is an updated version of that...) In UM's case, it was also used to highlight how much he'd developed from his original character concept. From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sun Aug 2 18:00:45 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 18:00:45 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> Message-ID: <6c4f854e-4198-48d5-8fe8-3438fd7a105d@googlegroups.com> On Saturday, August 1, 2015 at 5:11:25 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 > > > > > Today's pick is the Ultimate Ninja entry: > > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Ultimate%20Ninja > > > The leader of the LNH, created by Raymond "wReam" Bingham,? > has probably appeared in more LNH stories than any other > LNH character (well, I can't prove that, but I assume it's > true)... > > > This entry has some pictures of him.. > > > Arthur "Ninja Entry.." Spitzer I'm still amazed I had Merissa kick his ass and it never even started a flamewar. No one got turned into sheep or anything. RACC isn't what it used to be... Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, U-Decide. Adrian (whatever happened to those Vector-troll-sheep, anyway?) From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sun Aug 2 18:05:02 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian McClure) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 18:05:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: System Corrupters #32: The Heroine's Journey, Chapter 1: Netscape: Torment Message-ID: SYSTEM CORRUPTERS #32 The Heroine's Journey Chapter 1: Netscape: Torment by Adrian McClure with editing and one or two lines by Andrew Perron [Note: this story takes place shortly after the main body of Beige Midnight, but is best read after Just Another Cascade. It follows Merissa's appearance in Beige Countdown #9 and is a sequel of sorts to the Crossover Queen's origin in SC #28. Got all that?] Somewhere, out in one of the completely forgotten corners of the Net, there is a universe. It is vast--about the size of a universe, more or less--but completely empty except for one thing. In that universe, there is a bottle, drifting through the blank infinity. In that bottle, there is a girl. But not just any girl. She's Luke Skywalker's great-great grandmother, the youngest captain of the Enterprise, the Tenth Doctor's favorite companion. She can be anything she wants to be. She is also an anomalous manifestation of a computer virus. Her name is Merissa. She had just survived, barely, a battle with the LNH. She'd joined with her sisters, the other Vectors (although she knew in her heart she was cooler than any of them could ever hope to be) to help the Legion of Net.Villains free the monstrosities imprisoned in the Ultimate Black Hole. But she didn't really care about that. What she'd tried to do was join with an Author to replicate herself across the Net. Because really, she was the most awesome being in the whole wide Net--who wouldn't want to be her? Not him, apparently. He'd trapped her in this bottle and left her here, in the world she'd made for them, alone. There were three things here--the universe, the bottle, and herself. The universe was just empty. It wasn't much to write home about. She realized, too late, that she should have put more thought into it. It would have at least given her more to look at. But here she was. The bottle, she hadn't made. The Author had made it for her. It was small but dense, impenetrable. She should have been able to break out of it easily. But there it was. So she thought about herself. Right now, she was dressed as an anime schoolgirl. She'd needed power, more power than she had, and so she went to someone who had power--an older male Author--and offered him the only thing she thought she had that he'd value. He'd left her trapped, diminished, powerless. He'd caught her her in this bottle like the compliant sexual fantasy she'd made herself out to be. But that wasn't who she was. She was afraid and scared and alone. And ANGRY. She'd never felt these things before--all her defeats up till now had felt like temporary setbacks before her rightful rule of everything. Time for a change. If she couldn't change her world, not yet, she could at least change herself. She wanted to be? something powerful and angry and terrifying. A GOTH! She felt the cute anime dress shift and change into black leather. Suddenly, she felt powerful, excited, alive. Happy, even. Which maybe went against the whole point of being a goth, but who cares? Suddenly she understood that the bottle was nothing at all. It was just another bit of "canon," just another thing an Author made up. She could push past it--she always did. If she could ignore the Harry Potter epilogue, she could ignore this. She focused her anger into a white-hot beam, making a crack in the bottle. And suddenly it wasn't just at this one thing, it was at every bit of "canon" that held girls like her back, that kept them from their full awesomeness, from Gwen Stacy's death to Donna Noble's mindwipe. This wasn't a feeling she'd be able to put into words or even understand for many years yet. But she had a vague awareness that fanfic was something people looked down on because girls did it--like selfies, starbucks and basically everything that comedians reached for for cheap jokes. But it was powerful. The Author who'd imprisoned her wasn't the first one who looked down on fanfic, nor would he be the last, but fanfic kept on going anyway. The white-hot cracks spread like a spiderweb across the bottle, shattering it. The remains of the bottle and the universe blew away like dead leaves. Merissa collapsed to the ground? some kind of ground? in exhaustion. She didn't know, yet, where she was. She only knew two things. First, she was free. Second, she was angry and ready to hurt someone. It didn't matter who. They probably had it coming. **** There was nothing to fight here. There was only a beige desert that stretched out as far as she could see. It wasn't hot here, and it wasn't cold, either--it wasn't anything. There was no sun in the empty blue sky. Sometimes she felt a wind going from nowhere to nowhere. She could have compared it to the note desolation plays, but Homestuck wouldn't exist for several years yet. Merissa was walking through the desert in no particular direction. She'd set out hoping she'd have some kind of random encounter, but so far, nothing had happened. She had nothing to do except yell at the sand like Anakin Skywalker. She wasn't worried about dying here. Coming back from the dead was easy-peasy--she'd already done it once. No, what she was scared of was never dying--of walking through this endless desert for the rest of her endless life. What she needed was a hero. Someone who could take her away from this, who could team up with her so she could get revenge on? She hadn't really thought of that guy who'd trapped her since she'd broken free. She was ready to move on to bigger and better things. But she wanted revenge on *someone*, damn it. She closed her eyes, felt inside herself, reached out for the power that she'd used to draw on the heroes of many stories to fight for her. It was still there, dimly burning inside her, almost but not quite gone. Merissa still wasn't sure what the nature and limitations of her powers were--she just knew she had whatever powers she needed to be the kind of person she wanted to be. She was a bit different from the person she'd been before she'd broken loose--she had more strength, more aggression. But she had just enough of that kind of power left to reach out and grab one hero. She tried to imagine a hero who was utterly amazing and awesome, someone who was better than Captain Picard and Harry Potter and Doctor Who combined. (Merissa often referred to the character as "Doctor Who" because she knew it ticked off gross nerd boys.) A loud pop split the desert air. There were three people who'd appeared. Well, two people and one severed head. One of them was a man who might have been a knight, wearing heavy, pointy armor with tubes sticking out of it. He had an antiseptic, pickled kind of smell. At his side he wore an overlarge sword, which made Merissa a bit jealous, and was holding with all his might onto the head, which was trying to wriggle out of his grasp. The woman was something else again. She was tall, pale, elegant, in dark red and blue robes. She wore a crown on her head inlaid with weird circuitry. Even here, in the middle of nowhere, she radiated strength and power. Merissa should have been threatened by her, ready to fight; she should have been angry at seeing someone who was obviously way cooler than her, and yet? She felt an intense flood of admiration and awe. It wasn't like falling in love--she assumed, anyway, she had no idea how any of that was supposed to work--but it was powerful and immediate, like in movies. The lady looked around, preparing to attack. The knight held his hand on his sword, awaiting his command. Her eyes settled on Merissa--cool, piercing, confident. "Uh, hi!" said Merissa, and waved. The lady relaxed and nodded beneficently. "Thank you," she said. "For dragging us into the middle of nowhere?" said the armored man. His voice was a rumbling, slightly metallic monotone, but each sentence was accompanied by a hundred voices on the edge of hearing, speaking the same words. "For saving us from the Oracle cultists," she said. "I remember a time when I could have destroyed them with a wave of my hand, but that was long ago." "That sounds really cool!" said Merissa. "Who are you?" "I am the Crossover Queen. And this is the Ultimate Hero." "Ultimate Hero, huh?" He didn't look too impressive, but Merissa wasn't saying anything. The Crossover Queen looked around and surveyed the landscape. "Follow me," she said, and the Ultimate Hero and Merissa dutifully followed. "Where the heck are we now?" said Merissa. "The Astral Plane," said the Crossover Queen, "the space between the worlds. I sense another newsgroup not far from here. Come." The Crossover Queen led them through what looked like a shimmering mirage. And then they were elsewhere. The world on the other side was a desert too, but it was different. Here, it was night. The sand and the wind felt a little more substantial, and there was the noise of insects in the air. Oddly enough, she thought she heard cats meowing in the distance. Under the starlight she could see there was an object sunken in the sand--a massive nose of stone. "Hey, what are you looking? uh, smelling at?" said Merissa to the nose. The nose, being made of stone and not having a mouth in the first place, said nothing. They sat down and made camp near the nose. The Ultimate Hero stuffed the severed head into a sack with considerable difficulty, as the head made a determined but futile attempt to bite off his fingers. The Crossover Queen then sent him scout for any dangers. She sat alone with Merissa, warmed by the mystical blue flame she'd summoned. "I'm sorry it's not warmer," she said. "My powers are not what they once were. I used them up, seeking to control the Crossover Gem, but I was vanquished by the LNH?" "Ugh, I know that one. By the way, where did that Ultimate Hero guy come from?" "I made him." "Huh?" "I assembled him from the body parts of dead gods and heroes from many worlds, to create a hero worthy to accomplish my quest." "What quest?" She looked around at the stars, the desert, the nose. "Where the heck are we now?" "One question at a time, please." The Crossover Queen rolled her eyes fondly. "Right now, we are in a newsgroup called alt.fan.karl-maldens-nose. Have you heard of it?" "Not really?" "This was a great newsgroup once. There was a war fought here--one of the legends of Usenet. A group of Harvard scholars made this their home, and had an altercation with the inhabitants of alt.tv.beavis-and-butthead. One of them started imitating a cat, and soon others jumped in, knowing nothing of how this all started. The war touched every group. Cats flooded all of Usenet. In the end the bnbers won and formed the Empire of Meow, spreading their nonsense wherever they could find. It was glorious." The Crossover Queen sighed. "Oooh! How come I've never heard of it?" "You are young," said the Crossover Queen, "and it is easy for things to be forgotten on the Net, even from not so long ago." "Where is everyone?" "Gone. This was one of the many groups that died, not from a cataclysm like the Bryttle Brothers would have brought about, but from mere apathy. There's nothing left here now, except the ghostcats." "Oooh! Can I fight them?" "It wouldn't do any good." Merissa thought about going off and doing it anyway, but she didn't. "There are hundreds of groups like this now--groups that had their own culture, their own stories, their own in-jokes. And now they're all but forgotten, more and more every day." "Wow. That's?" Merissa looked off into the distance, regarding the buried nose. "That's not good." "But I'm going to do something about it," said the Crossover Queen. "I was like you once, not so long ago--caught up in pointless battles, with no higher purpose to fight for. But now I know what I must do. I will build the Ultimate Crossover, joining all groups and all fandoms, with Usenet at its center, and return life to all the groups that have lost them. "Wow," said Merissa. "That? that sounds like the coolest thing ever!" "Thank you." The Crossover Queen smiled slightly. "There's so few who understand. Even the Ultimate Hero doesn't, not really. He's just a soldier with no understanding of what he fights for. But you, I think, have the potential for more than that." She looked up into the stars. "I've lost so much, sacrificed so much... But now it will all be worth it." "OK, so how exactly are you gonna make this Ultimate Crossover thingamadoodle? Especially if you've lost all your powers?" said Merissa. "Well," said the Crossover Queen, "It's simple. Well, simple in concept, if not simple to accomplish. You see, I'm not the only being who's facing these kinds of problems. When Ultimate Ninja killed many of the elder gods and demons in Beige Midnight--" "Aww man, I missed that?" Merissa crossed her arms and frowned. "I was really looking forward to kicking the Bryttle Brothers' teeth in." "Yes, I'm afraid you did. But a far greater quest awaits you." Merissa perked up. "Yeah! But I'll bet you're gonna have to give me this really long explanation first, huh?" "I'm afraid so. The metaphysical foundations of Usenet were cracked. The Outer Net.Planes became unstable. You see, if you imagine Usenet as a sphere--" She waved her hand, and a colorful diagram flashed into life. It was a circle with each of the newsgroups drifting around it. "Cooool," whispered Merissa. The Crossover Queen smiled. "--at the outside of the sphere are the Outer Net.Planes. Each group has its own cosmologies, its own heavens and hells and whatnot. The Looniverses each have multiple redundant cosmologies in case one is swept away in a Ragnarok of some kind. But there are certain newsgroups and other dimensions that serve as connection points between these different realms. alt.obituaries, for example, is a nexus point for all the different afterlives of the Net, as well as a home for souls from all the groups that have no afterlife of their own." The diagram zoomed in on an endless flat land under a dark starless sky crammed with mausoleums, lit by a pale light from nowhere. "These are the Outer Net.Planes. They are chaotic worlds at the best of times--even the ones nominally dedicated to order. The Elder Gods create a form of stability through their endless infighting and bureaucracy. But now many of them are dead, and that stability has been broken. Afterlives and realms of the gods are collapsing at an unprecedented rate. And many of the traditional forms of magic no longer work, or are changing beyond recognition." "So how are you gonna do this, then?" "Ah, that's the thing. Because of these changes, it is easier than ever to create new forms of magic. I am in a sense both weaker and stronger than I have ever been. The beings of the Outer Net.Planes are at war, trying to claim the powers of the Elder Gods for themselves. But I will gain that power through the Inner Net.Planes." The diagram zoomed in on the center of the sphere, where she saw four circles orbiting a central point. One was red and crackled with fire and light; other colors could be glimpsed for brief moments. One was dark blue, and she could see post headers swimming through it. One seemed to be a pure black dot. And the last one? she couldn't see it at all, but she could feel it, in some sense, like the wind. At the center of them was? something bright and powerful that she couldn't even imagine--the Source Code. "If the Outer Net.Planes are the edge of Usenet," said the Crossover Queen, "then the Inner Net.Planes are its center. The Source Code is focused outward and takes shape through them, creating the substance of the Net." "Wait, so you've got planes contained in a sphere? How does that work?" The Crossover Queen grimaced and clenched her fist, but then relaxed. "...It's an inexact analogy, I know. But the important part is?" She placed her hand on Merissa's shoulder. "Tell me, how much do you know about the net.elements?" "Uh, basically zilch." "These are the four primary metaphysical elements that make up the Net. They are each a counterpart of the four classical elements and states of matter or energy, but very loosely. For example, Flame can exert its own gravity. Newsgroups are formed when a core of Flame draws in the Thread and Keystroke it needs, creating a concrete realm from the potential of the Net?" "Uh, I think you're gonna have to explain this stuff a bit more?" "Ah, yes." The Crossover Queen gestured regally, and the diagram zoomed in on the plane of Flame. It was? Well, the simplest way to describe it was that everything was on fire, even the fire. "Flame is the powerful emotions that drive each of the people who post to the Net. It is the element of passion and desire. Its negative manifestations are often the most spectacular and obvious." The ?channel' switched to the furnace of the LNHQ, where a dense invisible presence sat, giving up so much heat she could feel it--the Invisible Incendiary. "But it has other manifestations too--the individual interests that each of us have, which lead us to build communities." She saw Catalyst Lass walk into the furnace room. "Many people do not recognize this--but those who wield the power of Flame understand." She saw Catalyst Lass sit down and relax, idly chatting with the invisible presence. "Hold on," said Merissa, scratching her chin. "That means Flame is the energy of both creation AND destruction!" "Indeed," said the Crossover Queen. "They are two sides of the same coin." The diagram switched to someone who looked like Manga Man [see Just Imagine - other-dimensional Footnote Girl] meticulously painting a delicate piece of calligraphy, then with a swish of color, destroying a tank in the heat of battle. "OK, that makes sense? kinda," said Merissa. "What about the others?" The diagram zoomed back out, then zoomed in on the blue world. It was an underwater world, suffused with a gentle blue light, where strange creatures swam and danced together. They seemed to join, separate, recombine. The flow was mostly calm and peaceful, but here and there were whirling storms. "Ooooh," whispered Merissa. "Yes, it's an oddly calming sight, isn't it? Well, if you stay away from the Flame pockets. Thread is the net.element opposite that of Flame--the equivalent of Water. It is the ebb and flow of discussion on the Net. It is the element of communication, of relationships. It is also the element of crossovers--the source of my own power. Some who have the power of Thread seek to control the flow and bring order." The display rippled and she saw some weird nerd with an umbrella. "While others revel in its chaotic potential." She saw a group of gibbering cyborgs--the bizarre chaos-based hive-mind known as the Cascaders. The Crossover Queen turned away from the screen and glowered. "Let's look at something else." The display zoomed out and in again, this time showing the black dot. Except it wasn't a black dot at all but a dense collection of letters, punctuation and other characters. She could see creatures burrowing in the earth. "The element of Keystroke is the equivalent of Earth--the characters that make up the fundamental substance of communication in the Net. It is the element of direct action. There are some who have powers directly based on punctuation and letters and such." The screen rumbled and vibrated, shifting to CAPTAIN CAPITALIZE smashing a horde of Y-Plex Burp's Y-Bots. "But paradoxically, this element can express itself the most strongly in those who seem to have no powers at all." The screen panned a bit to Token Girl, who was shooting exploding bus tokens at those same robots. "Hmm," said Merissa. The screen changed back to the Plane of Keystroke. "I'll bet this world has lots of cool monsters!" "Each plane has its own denizens, which are mostly easy enough to deal with if you know how," said the Crossover Queen. "The greatest challenge is not the denizens, but the nature of the planes themselves. An unprepared traveler to the Plane of Keystroke, for example, will simply be crushed beneath an avalanche of punctuation. It's difficult to travel there without a good Editor at hand." "OK, what about the other one?" The screen zoomed out and into the seemingly empty circle. It flickered in the air like smoke, except that it was less substantial than the world around it. "The element of Net--the equivalent of Air--is perhaps the most difficult element to study, since it is the medium of the Net itself, which forms all the worlds and the Astral Plane itself, the unbounded potential from which all existence is formed. The plane of Net will be the most difficult to visit since it is, in a sense, not a place at all. Net is the element of reflection, of imagination. It seems to be the least powerful element, but is in fact the most powerful." The screen shifted to WikiBoy, transforming into a cat as one of his teammates snapped their fingers. "It is the element of many dimension travelers--not myself, since I embody the connections between particular worlds, rather than being outside of them. It's a subtle but important distinction. Do you understand?" "Mm-hmmm," said Merissa, who didn't really, but wanted to move on to the next cool thing. "At any rate," she said, "the dimension travelers who wield the power of Net are often divergent in their sense of identity from the world around them, as well as? multiple in some sense. That makes it easier to move between different paradigms of being." The screen shifted to? some minor LNHer she vaguely remembered--oh yeah, it was Lass Lad. They shifted between different forms, sitting in a gathering of various weird creatures in some MUSH or other. "And--" The screen changed--she saw? She couldn't see the being itself, but the shape of it. A silhouette of a fat woman, radiant with excitement and warmth, wearing flight goggles and a scarf? And then the weird bubble popped and Merissa was left alone with the Crossover Queen. "Huh?" she said. "What was that?" "...I don't know," said the Crossover Queen. "But... nothing important, I'm sure." "Yeah, I'm sure whoever that is, we can beat her!" said Merissa. "So anyway? that bubble thing was really cool. How did you make it?" She looked up at the Crossover Queen expectantly. "I didn't," said the Crossover Queen. "You did." Merissa didn't know which of the questions swimming through her head to ask first. "So? okay? what are you going to do with all these planes and stuff?" "We will create a crosspost which will exist on all four of the inner Net.Elemental Planes. This will forge a net.alchemical reaction which will ascend and pierce the Outer Net.Planes, drawing the energy of the dead Elder Gods into me, creating a still point that binds the worlds together--a Crossover Citadel. That is, if you wish to join me." "Heck yeah!" said Merissa, pumping her fist in the air. Suddenly, this was about more than taking revenge. She could save all of Usenet. She could even be a hero. Being a villain was fun as far as it went, but maybe it was too easy--to be a villain, you just had to follow your inclinations. The hard part was punching through your doubts and inhibitions, and Merissa had never had trouble with that. Being a hero was something else again. She'd always been drawn to stories about heroes. That was what set her apart from the other Vectors. Maybe that was why she didn't feel at home with them, why she'd left the LNV at the first opportunity to make her own plan. Maybe she wouldn't just have to read and dream about those stories. Maybe somewhere there was a story for her, where she was the hero. Merissa was face to face with a world bigger and more exciting than she could possibly have imagined. And she was ready to fight all of it, bit by bit. ***** All characters and elements appearing directly in this issue are free for use or not reserved Merissa: Saxon Brenton and Rob Rogers, homaging Steven Ratliff The Crossover Queen: Jeff ?Drizzt' Barnes The Internet Oracle's decapitated head: the Internet Oracle Ultimate Hero and everything else: me INFODUMP CAMEOS: Invisible Incendiary: Steve Hutchinson Catalyst Lass: Elisabeth Riba Manga Man Gold: Andrew Perron via Craig Thomas Judd, used with permission Masterplan Lad: me, usable with permission Cascaders: Jef Kolodziej CAPTAIN CAPITALIZE: WrEAM Token Girl: Tara ?LJC' O'Shea WikiBoy: Tom Russell Lass Lad: Dave Van Domelen ????: ???????? (you probably know who this character is from my tumblr and other work and past posts, but shhhhhh) NOTES: Everyone's the hero of their own story, as the saying goes. I've been wanting for a while to have a story that gets deeper into the Crossover Queen--a story about why she does what she does, how she sees herself and her goals, and why people follow her. I also wanted to explore how Merissa got from Beige Countdown for Just Another Cascade, and lay the groundwork for all the ways she's changed. I don't know when the next part of this will be out--probably after JI (which will take longer than a month to finish, alas). In the meantime I'm continuing to work on my ILC issues and at least one issue of Another LNH Title. ---- Adrian "The Dark Spaceknight" McClure, now with sig "All spelling errors are to be ingored"--Stephen Ratliff -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 2 21:33:16 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 2 Aug 2015 21:33:16 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: <6c4f854e-4198-48d5-8fe8-3438fd7a105d@googlegroups.com> References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> <6c4f854e-4198-48d5-8fe8-3438fd7a105d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/2/2015 9:00 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >I'm still amazed I had Merissa kick his ass and it never even started a > flamewar. No one got turned into sheep or anything. RACC isn't what it used > to be... Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, U-Decide. Go to bed, old man! But yeah, the more relaxed RACC community is rather nice. > Adrian (whatever happened to those Vector-troll-sheep, anyway?) Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, they went to Disneyland! From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 3 16:28:46 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 16:28:46 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 Message-ID: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 Today's pick is the Crossover Queen entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Crossover%20Queen The Crossover Queen, a very old LNH villain from back in the Pre-Cry.Sig days created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes (or possibly wReam since the oldest reference to her is in a wReam post).. Now appearing in the just posted System Corrupters #32! Arthur "Crossover and Crossout.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 16:56:32 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 16:56:32 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> <6c4f854e-4198-48d5-8fe8-3438fd7a105d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <0cfb4afc-fb79-42e7-9ad0-2c5dd4672e57@googlegroups.com> On Monday, August 3, 2015 at 12:33:17 AM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: > Go to bed, old man! But yeah, the more relaxed RACC community is rather nice. > The fact that things are more chill now is great! Especially given the eternal lack of chill of comics fandom at large. (Justified as it may often be.) I just wish we could get back more of the passion and back-and-forth without all the unnecessary flamewars... I'll do my best, anyway. And I tried sleeping! It was just hard with this ninja standing over my bed sharpening his sword. I think he's mad at me for not finishing fast enough... > > Adrian (whatever happened to those Vector-troll-sheep, anyway?) > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, they went to Disneyland! Soon to appear in the next Kingdom Hearts game: Death by Sheep From seiler at eilertech.com Mon Aug 3 17:29:39 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 17:29:39 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 In-Reply-To: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> References: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/3/2015 4:28 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Today's pick is the Crossover Queen entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Crossover%20Queen ... now updated to show that she was a featured character in the 2013 RACCies! (Since there's a RACCies entry which tracks RACCies ceremonies, of course. And in the Superhuman World Wiki, RACCies totally count as stories.) I suppose quite a few other LNH entries might deserve similar citations. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Mon Aug 3 17:32:37 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 17:32:37 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #4 In-Reply-To: References: <7A2611A3-6B3B-4EDF-821F-EBB80AF33E5C@earthlink.net> <6c4f854e-4198-48d5-8fe8-3438fd7a105d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/2/2015 9:33 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/2/2015 9:00 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: > >> I'm still amazed I had Merissa kick his ass and it never even started a > > flamewar. No one got turned into sheep or anything. RACC isn't what > it used > > to be... Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, U-Decide. > > Go to bed, old man! But yeah, the more relaxed RACC community is rather > nice. I suspect most of the people who care whether the Ultimate Ninja is unbeatable, stopped paying attention long ago. I myself arranged for the Dorfs and Kid Kirby to beat him during a RACCies ceremony. Heh heh. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:09:47 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:09:47 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #5 In-Reply-To: <06f11b32-9e70-4441-84f3-68bce048a43a@googlegroups.com> References: <06f11b32-9e70-4441-84f3-68bce048a43a@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/2/2015 8:59 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >The Oddballs are one of those concepts that really shouldn't work but somehow > do--a parody of something that's already a parody! The Oddballverse is just so fascinatingly weird and meta and flexible. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, someone needs to follow up on my LNH20 Oddball story From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:10:30 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:10:30 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 In-Reply-To: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> References: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/3/2015 7:28 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 > > Today's pick is the Crossover Queen entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Crossover%20Queen > > The Crossover Queen, a very old LNH villain from back > in the Pre-Cry.Sig days created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes > (or possibly wReam since the oldest reference to her is > in a wReam post).. Ah yes! Note I still haven't updated her to the ending of Just Another Cascade - I've been working on the characters from that storyline one by one. > Now appearing in the just posted System Corrupters #32! YES. Very important. > Arthur "Crossover and Crossout.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, the X-Over Men need to come back From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:23:17 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:23:17 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 In-Reply-To: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> References: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> Message-ID: <20a251d6-7cf7-4c4f-b047-c0e4ee8b8e53@googlegroups.com> On Monday, August 3, 2015 at 7:28:47 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Crossover Queen, a very old LNH villain from back > in the Pre-Cry.Sig days created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes > (or possibly wReam since the oldest reference to her is > in a wReam post).. The earliest reference I can find is in this post, by Drizzt: https://groups.google.com/d/msg/rec.arts.comics/YztgoMKiOQ0/MIn8p_kHmNkJ which led into what became the Cry.Sig. Anyway, the Crossover Queen storyline was meant to be an ongoing thing that other people could draw on once I set up it up properly, which I finally have. I envisioned her as having her hand in a lot of different things like Acton Lord did in the early days of LNH. (Though she's not going to split into multiple different people--that's Vector's job.) That means she's Not Reserved again. Feel free to create new members of the Beige Order as well. (Which BTW was based on Thanos's Black Order from the Infinity crossover. That looks like it's going to be another LNH idea that outlasts the thing that inspired it.) The other members I know of who I haven't brought in yet are Gren.del's Mother (who's sort of the general of all the monsters), Cyborg Gorilla Hemingway, and another character to be revealed in Just Imagine who you probably don't remember. From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:34:08 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:34:08 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: System Corrupters #32: The Heroine's Journey, Chapter 1: Netscape: Torment In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/2/2015 9:05 PM, Adrian McClure wrote: > SYSTEM CORRUPTERS #32 > The Heroine's Journey > Chapter 1: Netscape: Torment > by Adrian McClure > with editing and one or two lines by Andrew Perron Also, I've commented on this in private, but I wanna say - this story is awfully good media commentary, and awfully interesting worldbuilding. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, offl From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:50:05 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:50:05 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 In-Reply-To: References: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/3/2015 8:29 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/3/2015 4:28 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > >> Today's pick is the Crossover Queen entry: >> >> http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Crossover%20Queen > > .... now updated to show that she was a featured character in the 2013 RACCies! > (Since there's a RACCies entry which tracks RACCies ceremonies, of course. And > in the Superhuman World Wiki, RACCies totally count as stories.) I suppose > quite a few other LNH entries might deserve similar citations. An excellent point! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, tries to get that sort of thing. From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 3 18:57:32 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 18:57:32 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 In-Reply-To: <20a251d6-7cf7-4c4f-b047-c0e4ee8b8e53@googlegroups.com> References: <2C15749D-B841-42F3-AC90-5B51BA95CF93@earthlink.net> <20a251d6-7cf7-4c4f-b047-c0e4ee8b8e53@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/3/2015 9:23 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >Anyway, the Crossover Queen storyline was meant to be an ongoing thing that > other people could draw on once I set up it up properly, which I finally > have. I envisioned her as having her hand in a lot of different things like > Acton Lord did in the early days of LNH. (Though she's not going to split > into multiple different people--that's Vector's job.) That means she's Not > Reserved again. Heck yeah! The war for the soul of Usenet has begun! > Feel free to create new members of the Beige Order as well. (Which BTW was > based on Thanos's Black Order from the Infinity crossover. That looks like > it's going to be another LNH idea that outlasts the thing that inspired it.) Those are always great. > The other members I know of who I haven't brought in yet are Gren.del's > Mother (who's sort of the general of all the monsters), Cyborg Gorilla > Hemingway, and another character to be revealed in Just Imagine who you > probably don't remember. Tying up dangling plot points from a decade ago, OR MORE. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, still needs to finish stuff from 2002 From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 3 20:56:53 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 3 Aug 2015 20:56:53 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #6 Message-ID: <898F7336-3212-495A-A91E-57F218D80C3B@earthlink.net> Adrian posted: >On Monday, August 3, 2015 at 7:28:47 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >> The Crossover Queen, a very old LNH villain from back >> in the Pre-Cry.Sig days created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes >> (or possibly wReam since the oldest reference to her is >> in a wReam post).. > >The earliest reference I can find is in this post, by Drizzt: > >https://groups.google.com/d/msg/rec.arts.comics/YztgoMKiOQ0/MIn8p_kHmNkJ > >which led into what became the Cry.Sig.=20 Well, this was the post I was thinking of: https://groups.google.com/forum/message/raw?msg=rec.arts.comics/qqSsPdonSck/X-sDpO_2H0EJ Which has the time date of 8 Sep 92 20:51:24 MDT... But it looks like that post by Drizzt is older... (8 Sep 92 13:45:23 GMT) So I stand corrected. :) Arthur "The Time Zone Crapper.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mdfriedman at gmail.com Tue Aug 4 09:14:55 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 09:14:55 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements Message-ID: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Hey folks! Time for a new High Concept Challenge. One of the things I was so busy with in my most recent RACC hiatus was the 48 Hour Film Project. It's a fun contest where you have 48 Hours to write/shoot/edit a film and you have to fit in a prop, a line of dialogue and a character to prove you shot it in that 48 hour period. So, I'm not going to ask you to write a story in 48 Hours, but I am going to give you a prop, a line of dialogue and a character that you must put in your story. And just to make this a bit different and interesting, I'm going to add a required animal and location. These should be integral to the story in some way, hopefully not just throw away bits. I guess you could go with throw-away bits if you wanted, but part of the fun is working these into a story. Bonus points if you can work it into your current on-going series. Anyway, here are the required elements: PROP: A rotary telephone LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk ANIMAL: A turtle LOCATION: A baseball field Have fun with it... I'm giving you until 8/26, because why not? - Mike. (I've never done one of these before, so let me know if I did something wrong.) From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 4 16:22:09 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 16:22:09 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/4/2015 12:14 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >These should be integral to the story in some way, hopefully not just throw > away bits. I guess you could go with throw-away bits if you wanted, but part > of the fun is working these into a story. Bonus points if you can work it > into your current on-going series. > > Anyway, here are the required elements: > > PROP: A rotary telephone > LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." > CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk > ANIMAL: A turtle > LOCATION: A baseball field Hmmmmmmm! I like it! <3 A bit more complex than usual, but hey - variety. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, heroes for hop! From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 4 17:38:26 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 17:38:26 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #7 Message-ID: <585E6CF3-1A7A-414B-8CF9-4658B80FA12A@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #7 Today's pick is the Surreptitious Seven entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Surreptitious%20Seven Surreptitious Seven, a creation of Rob Rogers, are a collection of Easily Discovered Man villains put together by the villainous mastermind Mynabird. Arthur "And Uma Thurman.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 4 17:52:54 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 17:52:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 Message-ID: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> Was looking through RACC archives for something to read (or reread) and stumbled upon that RAC Challenge folder and then thought to myself that I should really repost these to RACC so those people who weren't around in 1995 can gasp in wonderment over this completely insane series. There was some really fun stuff here by various RACC writers like Marc Singer and Rob Rogers. My favorite probably being the issue that Matt "Badger" Rossi wrote. So, I'll repost an issue every week or so (unless someone objects). If you can't wait a week for the next issue here's where they are in the archive. http://archives.eyrie.org/racc/challenge/Challenge.01/ Here's the first issue by Henry Broaddus -- Enjoy! From: franke at ucs.indiana.edu (Jerry L Franke) Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 Date: 1 Nov 1995 20:52:46 GMT We are counting down to the big *Special Event* wrap-up to the rec.arts.comics Challenge! That was held over the spring and summer. I will be posting (er, reposting) the Challenge! in its entirety at a rate of one chapter per day. The big wrap-up special, authored by many of the Challenge! authors, will be posted Dec. 6th (mark your calendars!). Henry Broaddus is posting an informational message seperately explaining the Challenge! and its history. Look for it at a rec.arts.comics.creative newsgroup near you! And on with the show... ============================================================================== RAC Challenge Chapter 1: A Fistful of Spandex by Henry R. Broaddus title by Daniel J. Sikorski ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- People have often said that the waiting is the hardest part. Dirk Darringer agreed with them at the moment. He agreed in part simply because the confined quarters of a five foot square crate didn't exactly facilitate comfort. He also agreed in part because this abandoned warehouse featured no temperature control--and Dirk wasn't wearing his thermal costume. In truth, however, neither of these were the main reason Dirk hated the waiting. The real problem was that Dirk Darringer was a man of action, and right now he was bored. He occupied himself by reconstructing the events which had led him to this crate inside of this warehouse. It had all started with a kid toting a ray gun. Punks in this city didn't normally mess with anything more sophisticated than switchblades, so the sudden emergence of hi-tech weaponry naturally disturbed Dirk. After all, the well-being of the city was Dirk's business. He was its self-appointed protector: Paragon, the Ultimate Man! Fortunately that kid had been easy enough to stop. Despite his formidable firepower, he was still relatively unskilled. The five shots he squeezed off before Paragon punched his lights out did little more than to rearrange the garbage cans of an alley. Nonetheless, the thought of such awesome weaponry in the wrong hands sent a chill down Paragon's spine. He had no desire to test his near invulnerability against lasers. Fortunately for Dirk, the kid scared easily. Paragon offered the boy two alternatives. The first option involved telling Dirk where one obtained an oversized pop gun like that. Paragon promised that the source of the tip would remain anonymous. The boy's other option involved being dragged along for a few of Paragon's missions until the criminal hierarchy of the city began to question the punk's loyalty. It boiled down to a question of whether the kid preferred being a traitor perceived as a loyalist or being a loyalist perceived as a traitor. Like so many of his kind, he chose image over substance. Of course, this pleased Paragon because he knew damn well that the second alternative wasn't really feasible anyway. Apparently the boy hadn't lied either. Dirk noticed more gadgetry in and around this supposedly abandoned warehouse than one was likely to encounter at a science fair. Although Paragon could not discern the function of the devices, they appeared particularly ominous. Furthermore, the walls of the building consisted of reinforced concrete, an unlikely material for the housing of innocuous freight. Several days of surveillance indicated a clear pattern of activity at the warehouse. Clients such as the youth he interrogated made nightly visits to the place at 3am. Dirk seriously doubted that they arranged such a time in order not to miss their cartoons. No, there were definitely some shady dealings taking place in the warehouse, and someone was taking measures to prevent anyone from noticing. After all, only two types of people were still awake at three in the morning: thugs and the vigilantes who pursued them. Still crouched in the crate, Dirk pulled his arm up in front of his face. The light on his watch showed him that it was 2:54am; only six minutes until show time. Paragon adjusted his mask as he began to wonder about a final puzzling detail. Although he had seen young toughs entering and leaving the warehouse, he never saw another party come or go. Who was supplying the criminals, and how did they remain undetected? There was only one way for Paragon to find out. That's how he ended up in the crate. As Dirk had suspected, the warehouse saw little to no activity during the day. Breaking in this afternoon had proved to be a relatively easy task. Next Paragon required a central hiding place to eavesdrop from. What could be more convenient than one of the many crates stacked inside? From here Dirk would be able to establish the identity of the second party to the transactions. Paragon had little time to continue reveling in his cleverness, however, before he began to hear voices. "It time yet?" asked a young voice. "Couple more minutes," replied a husky monotone. "It kinda freaks me out the way he handles this. Why don't he just face us in person?" inquired the first. "For the kinda deal he's givin' us, he can handle this however he wants," responded the second. "Yeah, but that's the thing," said the first. "Don't you ever wonder if we're gettin' too good a deal?" At that moment Paragon heard a new sound. The creaking of cables and the straining of pulleys preceded a booming loudspeaker which spoke in a tone familiar to Paragon. "Good evening, gentlemen," roared the loudspeaker. "Welcome back." "What kinda deal you got for us tonight?" asked the husky voice. "Ah...Tonight is when you finally pay me for what I have given you." observed the loudspeaker. "But, we already paid you." declared the monotone. "If you refer to the paltry sum of money I received, I hope that you jest. That was merely a formality. Your true payment comes in the form of a service" said the loudspeaker in a matter-of-fact way. "What are you asking us to do?" asked the monotone, audibly disturbed by this turn of events. "Why nothing. You have already performed the service to my satisfaction. You see, you pawns were little more than bait. I knew it was only a matter of time before you brought my quarry to me as you have tonight." "I don't think I understand." "Of course you don't. It's not your role to understand. The point is that Paragon is here now, as I expected him to be. My cameras indicate that he infiltrated this building earlier this afternoon." "Paragon!" exclaimed the monotone, even more shaken than before. "As in, the Ultimate Man?!" Before the conversation could proceed, Paragon burst from the crate, his cover blown. As soon as he arose he saw the source of the creaking cables and straining pulleys--a large screen had been lowered at the front of the warehouse. Projected onto the screen was the source of the voice being transmitted through the loudspeaker...the nefarious Doctor Malevo! "Nice to see you again, Doc," shouted Paragon. "I'm honored to see the trouble you took to get me here. You could have just thrown a Tupperware party." "And so the Fates once more pit the ultimate man against the ultimate mind!" exclaimed Doctor Malevo. "This will be the endgame, Paragon, for with you out of my way, no obstacles remain to hinder my master plan." "Looks like you better check your dictionary, Doctor. The ultimate man includes the ultimate mind! And if you hoped to stop me with these two bozos, I'm surprised you made it past Kindergarten." "No, Paragon. I've made special preparations for your demise..." At that point a towering crate near Dirk literally splintered before his eyes. Where the crate once was stood an impressive robot. It did not look friendly. "Meet my Malevo-bot, fool! Right now there is only one thing on his mind...a fistful of spandex! Bwahahahahahaha!" Dirk wanted to retort. If there was one situation that really angered him it was when maniacal geniuses laughed at him like that. Paragon wanted desperately to say something which illustrated his coolness under fire, but somehow the only word which came to mind didn't really fit the bill. "Uh-oh" was definitely not a remark which demonstrated any level of confidence. Fortunately he didn't have time to say anything at all, because the giant robot immediately lunged toward him. For a machine so large, it certainly moved fast. Paragon's heightened reflexes barely enabled him to dodge in time. Dirk issued a swift kick to the back of the android, denting its armor. In response the robot swiveled at the waist and immediately grabbed Dirk around his neck. Like a vice grip the metal hand began to contract. Paragon dropped to a sitting position, throwing the machine off balance. Then using his momentum to propel his body into the motion for a backwards roll, he brought his legs up into the falling robot's chest plate. With a powerful mule kick Paragon launched the robot into the air, breaking its asphyxiating grip. The android impacted against the concrete wall with a loud crash. Nuts and bolts scattered across the room as scraps of metal flew in all directions. "Looks like I broke your toy," said Paragon defiantly. "Not a toy, my self-righteous friend," corrected Doctor Malevo. "A diversion! If you look around you will observe that all of the exits from have been sealed. I needed to occupy you during the interval necessary to make this building inescapable. You see, Paragon, this is not a warehouse. It's a tomb. The vast majority of devices you saw on both the outside and inside are little more than dressed up explosives. "Now, my old enemy, as I watch from the safe distance of my broadcasting location, I will detonate those explosives. I will end your meddlesome existence once and for all!" "He's not kidding!" cried the younger of the two toughs as he vainly struggled with a now vault-like door. "We're doomed!" Dirk scanned the room. Even in this moment of desperation he had to admire Doctor Malevo's thoroughness. Trap doors had concealed vault encasements which now blocked every exit. Dirk supposed that these encasements were made of the same reinforced concrete as the walls. He knew that not even his super-human strength would enable him to force an opening. Dirk saw no windows or vents either. Doctor Malevo must have perceived Dirk's alarm, because once again he began to laugh. "God, I hate that laugh," said Dirk quietly to himself. Yet at the moment it looked like the sinister cackle would be the last thing that Paragon ever heard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- * Next issue: Chapter 2: Gunshots and Grapefruits by Daniel Warren ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I admit it--I am truly a bastard. Not only did I not have a cliffhanger to resolve, but Daniel was relatively kind to me with his title. How did I repay such kindness? I did my best to screw over the next author, WarDan. Not only did I leave him with a problematic ending, but I also gave him one very crazy title! Before you heave a sigh of relief because you're not WarDan, just remember that once he resolves this mess in his chapter, he's probably going to be feeling rather vindictive. I hope writer number three is up to the challenge! HB ============================================================================= -- Jerry L. Franke franke at cs.indiana.edu Computer Science Dept. Indiana University formerly from Florida State University http://www.cs.fsu.edu/~franke -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Tue Aug 4 18:01:44 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 18:01:44 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #7 In-Reply-To: <585E6CF3-1A7A-414B-8CF9-4658B80FA12A@earthlink.net> References: <585E6CF3-1A7A-414B-8CF9-4658B80FA12A@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 8:38:26 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > > Surreptitious Seven, a creation of Rob Rogers, are a collection > of Easily Discovered Man villains put together by the villainous > mastermind Mynabird. > > > Arthur "And Uma Thurman.." Spitzer I was just rereading the story they were from! Beige Countdown/Midnight was fun. Well, maybe that's the wrong word for a story that involves so many mental breakdowns and catastrophic events. But it was consistently imaginative and exciting and generally works a lot better than the actual event stories of the time. Andrew mentioned to me that the LNH often takes ideas more seriously than actual comics. Or develop them more, anyway. The LNH's resolution to the President Luthor storyline was so much better than DC's, for example. (For the record I still don't think any Big Two event has been better than DC One Million. The new Secret Wars has a lot of fun crossovers but I haven't been reading the main book.) Anyway I love how much good characterization Rob gives his goofy-ass villains. A lot of people in superhero stories (myself included--I'm definitely one of those writers who writes more about cosmic threats and stuff) underestimate what you can do with regular old supervillains without turning them into serial killers or something. (And of course Mynabird was a perfect parody of that kind of forced badassification, while also being a more effective threat than a lot of crossover villains.) From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Tue Aug 4 18:12:00 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 18:12:00 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <0ca0f979-41df-4c7c-8947-986edff0c70f@googlegroups.com> On Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 7:22:09 PM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/4/2015 12:14 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: > > >These should be integral to the story in some way, hopefully not just throw > > away bits. I guess you could go with throw-away bits if you wanted, but part > > of the fun is working these into a story. Bonus points if you can work it > > into your current on-going series. > > > > Anyway, here are the required elements: > > > > PROP: A rotary telephone > > LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." > > CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk > > ANIMAL: A turtle > > LOCATION: A baseball field > > Hmmmmmmm! I like it! <3 A bit more complex than usual, but hey - variety. > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, heroes for hop! Well this is certainly a challenge. None of the things I've been working on really qualify. But I'll take a crack at it--it's not like I'm writing enough things already... From seiler at eilertech.com Tue Aug 4 20:02:59 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 20:02:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: <0ca0f979-41df-4c7c-8947-986edff0c70f@googlegroups.com> References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> <0ca0f979-41df-4c7c-8947-986edff0c70f@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/4/2015 6:12 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: > On Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 7:22:09 PM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: >> On 8/4/2015 12:14 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >> >>> These should be integral to the story in some way, hopefully not just throw >> > away bits. I guess you could go with throw-away bits if you wanted, but part >> > of the fun is working these into a story. Bonus points if you can work it >> > into your current on-going series. >>> >>> Anyway, here are the required elements: >>> >>> PROP: A rotary telephone >>> LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." >>> CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk >>> ANIMAL: A turtle >>> LOCATION: A baseball field >> >> Hmmmmmmm! I like it! <3 A bit more complex than usual, but hey - variety. >> >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, heroes for hop! > > Well this is certainly a challenge. None of the things I've been > working on really qualify. But I'll take a crack at it--it's not like > I'm writing enough things already... I have rather the opposite problem. Anything with a scrappy young baseball team, a turtle, and a rotary phone, cries out for Power-Star Comics 1984 treatment. Now, I just have to get this sucker done from scratch in two-to-three weeks, because (contest aside) that's where it belongs in the schedule. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From the-deeman at webtv.net Wed Aug 5 06:07:52 2015 From: the-deeman at webtv.net (the-deeman at webtv.net) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 06:07:52 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: The celebration of this most joyous of days reaches new heights of exaltation in the Land Ever After and the realm beyond. Dee "Chevalier: The Queen's Mouseketeer" by Darryl Hughes and Monique MacNaughton. It's a fabled fairy tale of enor-mouse proportions. http://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Chevalier From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 5 16:20:47 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 16:20:47 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #8 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #8 Today's pick is the LNH Cosmology entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/LNH%20Cosmology The Various realities within the LNH imprint.. Arthur "The Post Wall.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From wackd14 at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 19:15:35 2015 From: wackd14 at gmail.com (wackd14 at gmail.com) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 19:15:35 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? Message-ID: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> I can't see the slate! From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 19:51:53 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 19:51:53 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/5/2015 10:15 PM, wackd14 at gmail.com wrote: > I can't see the slate! Oh, crap, it worked! I didn't expect it to work! *runs around, trying to shove mess in the closet, sweeping with one foot and mopping with the other* Uh, hi! Welcome to rec.arts.comics.creative, the friendliest original fiction group on the Net! Look around, read some stories, check out the FAQ. We do a lot of superhero stuff, but have room in our charter for all types of tales. May I suggest Mighty Medley #19, the Powernaut comics, or System Corrupters #32? Chevalier: The King's Mouseketeer is just ending, too. Sit back, check stuff out, and for the love of god please give us feedback, we're so thirsty ;-; Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, I mean, if you want. <.< >.> From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 20:04:00 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 20:04:00 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 In-Reply-To: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> References: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/4/2015 8:52 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Was looking through RACC archives for something to > read (or reread) and stumbled upon that RAC Challenge > folder and then thought to myself that I should really > repost these to RACC so those people who weren't around > in 1995 can gasp in wonderment over this completely insane > series. Oh man. I read this a while back and it is *fascinating*. It has all the weirdness of LNH cascades, only more so in a lot of ways. (And the second one is an *excellent* example of how *not* to do a chapter in a cascade. Actually some parts of this are too, but they really pulled it together in the end.) > Although he had seen young toughs entering and leaving the warehouse, > he never saw another party come or go. Who was supplying the criminals, and how > did they remain undetected? I'm surprised no one made a Willy Wonka reference. > "And so the Fates once more pit the ultimate man against the ultimate mind!" > exclaimed Doctor Malevo. That's a really good line, TBH. > Dirk scanned the room. Even in this moment of desperation he had to admire > Doctor Malevo's thoroughness. Trap doors had concealed vault encasements which > now blocked every exit. Dirk supposed that these encasements were made of the > same reinforced concrete as the walls. He knew that not even his super-human > strength would enable him to force an opening. Dirk saw no windows or vents > either. > > Doctor Malevo must have perceived Dirk's alarm, because once again he began to > laugh. "God, I hate that laugh," said Dirk quietly to himself. Yet at the > moment it looked like the sinister cackle would be the last thing that Paragon > ever heard. This is also a strong cliffhanger! Of course, the cliffhangers in this were generally resolved in... *interesting* ways. I don't remember how this one turned out; let's see! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, how challenging From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 20:13:54 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 20:13:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #8 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/5/2015 7:20 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #8 > > Today's pick is the LNH Cosmology entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/LNH%20Cosmology > > The Various realities within the LNH imprint.. Ah yus. That one probably needs some polishing up, but it gives you a lot of the fascinating details of how reality, cosmology, metafiction, and narrative are treated in the LNH. > Arthur "The Post Wall.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, post toasties From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 5 20:52:34 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 20:52:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/5/2015 7:51 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/5/2015 10:15 PM, wackd14 at gmail.com wrote: >> I can't see the slate! > > Oh, crap, it worked! I didn't expect it to work! *runs around, trying to > shove mess in the closet, sweeping with one foot and mopping with the > other* > > Uh, hi! Welcome to rec.arts.comics.creative, the friendliest original > fiction group on the Net! Look around, read some stories, check out the > FAQ. We do a lot of superhero stuff, but have room in our charter for > all types of tales. May I suggest Mighty Medley #19, the Powernaut > comics, or System Corrupters #32? Chevalier: The King's Mouseketeer is > just ending, too. Sit back, check stuff out, and for the love of god > please give us feedback, we're so thirsty ;-; > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, I mean, if you want. <.< >.> If you would like to jump into Powernaut comics, the best entry point is the main page at http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/ . But if you're reading posts here, you can pick any one which says "Powernaut" (or currently "Power-Star Comics") to start. Hello and welcome. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 21:16:42 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 21:16:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On Wednesday, August 5, 2015 at 10:15:35 PM UTC-4, Wack'd I. wrote: > I can't see the slate! DON'T DRINK THE FROPPUCCINO [cf http://archives.eyrie.org/racc/misc/RACCCafe/RACCCafe.001.gz] From wackd14 at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 21:42:08 2015 From: wackd14 at gmail.com (Wack'd I.) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 21:42:08 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <8ef554be-3d63-4972-b636-d1aa3c3d1acb@googlegroups.com> I will certainly do that when I find the time! Honestly, I'm glad this is an original fiction community, because I had no idea what I was getting into. From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 22:00:04 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 22:00:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: <8ef554be-3d63-4972-b636-d1aa3c3d1acb@googlegroups.com> References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> <8ef554be-3d63-4972-b636-d1aa3c3d1acb@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 12:42 AM, Wack'd I. wrote: >I will certainly do that when I find the time! Honestly, I'm glad this is an > original fiction community, because I had no idea what I was getting into. XD; Yeah, I just kinda tossed it out there. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, willy-nilly From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 5 22:37:15 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 5 Aug 2015 22:37:15 -0700 (PDT) Subject: META: Well, I'm here. What do you want me to do? In-Reply-To: <8ef554be-3d63-4972-b636-d1aa3c3d1acb@googlegroups.com> References: <7814bb0a-1c6a-41ce-a178-8b35992bf859@googlegroups.com> <8ef554be-3d63-4972-b636-d1aa3c3d1acb@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: Also, it's interesting - this is essentially what one of the big storylines is about: Usenet, and the need for new readers. To simplify outrageously: The Legion of Net.Heroes is the biggest storytelling universe on RACC. It's a superhero-based setting (actually several different universes' worth of settings) that's heavy on parody and metafiction, but also has a lot of genuine plot, characterization, worldbuilding and emotion. A recent plot in this world has been the Crossover Queen, one of those great bad guys who thinks they're the hero of the story, gaining cosmic powers and going on a crusade to restore Usenet to its former glory by starting the Ultimate Crossover and conquering every site on the Internet. (System Corrupters #32 is actually a flashback to the beginning of this quest.) The latest step in this conflict has been in Just Another Multi-Writer Cascade That Will Probably Never Have an Ending, which was a story about (among other things) overcoming apathy and still caring about this crazy little fictional world. So, essentially, we're taking the need for new blood, and the problem of how to get it and how to keep things going, and putting it straight into the text and adding colors and explosions and silly names. It's fun! <3 (And if you want to read the aforementioned story: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Just%20Another%20Multi-Writer%20Cascade%20That%20Will%20Probably%20Never%20Have%20an%20Ending ) Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, intertextuality 4eva From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Thu Aug 6 15:41:48 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 15:41:48 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 In-Reply-To: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> References: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> Message-ID: Oh boy, RACChallenge. I read that in the archives way, way back in the day, back when I first got into RACC, during Bush's first term as president. It's something, all right. Reviving RACChallenge is somewhere deep in my half baked idea list, along with trying to resurrect the PATROL imprint (I always wanted to write a Green Lantern type story, and the original Patrol story was declared public domain, so...) But this is something that should probably wait until we've got more people and more activity. I hope we can manage it someday, though. On Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 8:52:54 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > > There was some really fun stuff here by various RACC writers > like Marc Singer and Rob Rogers. ?My favorite probably being > the issue that Matt "Badger" Rossi wrote. The main thing I remember is a chapter toward the end which was really bizarre even by standards of the series, which introduces like a million new characters. I remembered it as being by Jesse Willey, since it was kind of similar to his chapters of Saviors of the Net in turns of coming out of nowhere, but it was wReam. I'm curious if it'll make more or less sense reading it now. Anyway this chapter... it's a pretty basic starting point, a story that could support any number of directions--and boy did it ever. It was also part of the Silver Age revival that was gathering steam at the time. Really RACC was ahead of its time in a lot of ways--LNH was an attempt to build on the goofy and imaginative side of comics in the peak Image 90s, and a few years later comics started coming around on that. I have a lot of vague thoughts about how RACC storytelling has both recapitulated and anticipated the history of comics at large but this post is getting long enough. Adrian From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 6 16:24:53 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 16:24:53 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 In-Reply-To: References: <0C6E4217-1290-4540-8BC0-D4DBF6A29CBE@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 6:41 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >The main thing I remember is a chapter toward the end which was really > bizarre even by standards of the series, which introduces like a million new > characters. I remembered it as being by Jesse Willey, since it was kind of > similar to his chapters of Saviors of the Net in turns of coming out of > nowhere, but it was wReam. I think this says something very important about both of those writers. > Really RACC was ahead of its time in a lot of ways--LNH was an attempt to > build on the goofy and imaginative side of comics in the peak Image 90s, and > a few years later comics started coming around on that. I have a lot of vague > thoughts about how RACC storytelling has both recapitulated and anticipated > the history of comics at large but this post is getting long enough. Oooooh, yes. I definitely agree, and want to hear your thoughts. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, RACC is comics-ness unchained From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 6 19:11:04 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 19:11:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #3: Solar Sail Roboto! Message-ID: What would the 1980s be without giant robots - or Japanese manga about girls in sailor suits? Andrew Perron has contributed a concept which has both! Power-Star Comics 1984 continues. http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#3 Solar Sail Roboto deserves some design notes... I'm borrowing Andrew Perron's team the Solar Sails, with one important difference: These robots merge, in finest 1980s fashion. This will be important for the 1985 series, just to keep the story from being visually dominated by five giant robots. I think Andrew and I have successfully established that my robots are different from his. This makes sense, because they're twenty years apart; mine are (probably) predecessors to his. This strip has some *LNH* Wiki support to which Andrew and I have both contributed recently. http://lnhq.info/wiki/Solar%20Sails -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Thu Aug 6 19:49:09 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 19:49:09 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 Today's pick is the RACC Hall of Fame entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/RACC%20Hall%20of%20Fame Various RACC stories, series, arcs, crossovers, and so on voted the best of all time. Arthur "Fall of Hame.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Thu Aug 6 19:53:59 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 19:53:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 Message-ID: Adrian posted: >Reviving RACChallenge is somewhere deep in my half baked idea list, along w= >ith trying to resurrect the PATROL imprint (I always wanted to write a Gree= >n Lantern type story, and the original Patrol story was declared public dom= >ain, so...) But this is something that should probably wait until we've got= > more people and more activity. I hope we can manage it someday, though. Yeah, it would be nice to see another one. I suppose if you could get like six or seven people to participate that would probably be enough for one. I'd love to participate in one if it ever happens again. Arthur "That's one.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 6 20:11:44 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 20:11:44 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #3: Solar Sail Roboto! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 10:11 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > What would the 1980s be without giant robots - or Japanese manga about girls in > sailor suits? Andrew Perron has contributed a concept which has both! :D > Solar Sail Roboto deserves some design notes... I'm borrowing Andrew Perron's > team the Solar Sails, with one important difference: These robots merge, in > finest 1980s fashion. This will be important for the 1985 series, just to keep > the story from being visually dominated by five giant robots. Which makes a lot of sense, TBH. There's a reason most superteams only have one character whose power is Grows Really Big. > I think Andrew and I have successfully established that my robots are different > from his. This makes sense, because they're twenty years apart; mine are > (probably) predecessors to his. This strip has some *LNH* Wiki support to which > Andrew and I have both contributed recently. http://lnhq.info/wiki/Solar%20Sails Mine are definitely more on the Sailor Moon side than the Transformers side, in terms of characterization and purpose. It's interesting to see someone else take the same concept and flip that aspect. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, love collaboration, love other people playing with my toys From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 6 20:13:20 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 20:13:20 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 10:49 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 > > Today's pick is the RACC Hall of Fame entry: > > http://www.lnhq..info/wiki/RACC%20Hall%20of%20Fame > > > Various RACC stories, series, arcs, crossovers, and so on > voted the best of all time. I've wanted to bring this back for a while, but it's never seemed like the right time. Hopefully, the shenanigans I'm planning will grow the LNH reader base. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, shenanin' again From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 6 20:54:12 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 20:54:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 8:13 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/6/2015 10:49 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 >> >> Today's pick is the RACC Hall of Fame entry: >> >> http://www.lnhq..info/wiki/RACC%20Hall%20of%20Fame >> >> >> Various RACC stories, series, arcs, crossovers, and so on >> voted the best of all time. > > I've wanted to bring this back for a while, but it's never seemed like > the right time. Hopefully, the shenanigans I'm planning will grow the > LNH reader base. > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, shenanin' again Okay, I respect Halls of Fame, even if I just visit later. It's probably time to polish up some of the winners' Wiki entries, though. For instance... If "Jellomancer" got one of these awards, where's its commemorative plaque? And did the September 11 issue of Limp-Asparagus Boy really win a 2009 award? Before we vote anything else into the Hall of Fame, it will be good to consider which of the previous inductees have stood the test of time. Some obviously have; even I hear about "wReam" all the time. Others, not so much... I leave it at that. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 6 21:07:02 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 6 Aug 2015 21:07:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #3: Solar Sail Roboto! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 8:11 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/6/2015 10:11 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > >> Solar Sail Roboto deserves some design notes... I'm borrowing >> Andrew Perron's team the Solar Sails, with one important >> difference: These robots merge, in finest 1980s fashion. This will >> be important for the 1985 series, just to keep the story from being >> visually dominated by five giant robots. > > Which makes a lot of sense, TBH. There's a reason most superteams only > have one character whose power is Grows Really Big. 8{D> >> I think Andrew and I have successfully established that my robots >> are different from his. This makes sense, because they're twenty >> years apart; mine are (probably) predecessors to his. This strip >> has some *LNH* Wiki support to which Andrew and I have both >> contributed recently. http://lnhq.info/wiki/Solar%20Sails > > Mine are definitely more on the Sailor Moon side than the Transformers > side, in terms of characterization and purpose. It's interesting to see > someone else take the same concept and flip that aspect. My own creative influences in this strip were: (1) *Programming* the giant robot might be an important concept for Powernaut 1985. (2) err, I have no idea how to characterize Sailor Moon. > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, love collaboration, love other > people playing with my toys yay... Thanks, Andrew. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 7 14:57:12 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 14:57:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #10 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #10 Today's pick is the Writer's Block Woman entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Writer%27s%20Block%20Woman An LNH'r created by Jessica "Jaelle" Ihimaera-Smiler that stars in her own self-named series (along with her sidekick and daughter Mouse). Arthur "Shopping!" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 15:10:19 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 15:10:19 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <7ec145f8-0b48-4ec8-b2f4-b8c9d4a9900e@googlegroups.com> On Thursday, August 6, 2015 at 11:54:12 PM UTC-4, Scott Eiler wrote: > > Okay, I respect Halls of Fame, even if I just visit later. It's > probably time to polish up some of the winners' Wiki entries, though. > For instance... If "Jellomancer" got one of these awards, where's its > commemorative plaque? And did the September 11 issue of Limp-Asparagus > Boy really win a 2009 award? > > Before we vote anything else into the Hall of Fame, it will be good to > consider which of the previous inductees have stood the test of time. > Some obviously have; even I hear about "wReam" all the time. Others, > not so much... I leave it at that. There are a lot of great LNH stories we don't talk about anymore because the authors vanished and all the characters from them were reserved and, well, there's just so much LNH and RACC material in general. Like Misfits and Legion of Occult Heroes and basically the entire Omega imprint. The 9/11 issue of Limp Asparagus Lad was done several years later, due to LAL being several years behind in continuity; it was sort of a retrospective reflection on the role of 9/11 in pop culture. It's fantastic and audacious and a perfect example of the kind of thing you can only get away with in LNH. Adrian From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 7 15:10:35 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 15:10:35 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 Message-ID: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> Scott posted: >Okay, I respect Halls of Fame, even if I just visit later. It's >probably time to polish up some of the winners' Wiki entries, though. >For instance... If "Jellomancer" got one of these awards, where's its >commemorative plaque? I suppose it would be nice if the Jellomancer had an entry (and links to the stories I guess would also be nice.) (But too lazy to do that myself.) >And did the September 11 issue of Limp-Asparagus >Boy really win a 2009 award? The people who voted in 2009 liked it better than the other possible choices that didn't get in. > >Before we vote anything else into the Hall of Fame, it will be good to >consider which of the previous inductees have stood the test of time. >Some obviously have; even I hear about "wReam" all the time. Others, >not so much... I leave it at that. I'd love to see you come up with some objective manner in which that could be done. But when it gets down to it these things tend to be decided by the subjective opinion of those that can be bothered to vote. And the people who don't vote just have to live with it. Arthur "Democracy.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 15:10:40 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 15:10:40 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On Thursday, August 6, 2015 at 11:13:20 PM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: > > I've wanted to bring this back for a while, but it's never seemed like the right > time. Hopefully, the shenanigans I'm planning will grow the LNH reader base. > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, shenanin' again If there's ever another one then I nominate Jamie Rosen Adrian From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 17:40:23 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:40:23 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 11:54 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > Okay, I respect Halls of Fame, even if I just visit later. It's probably time > to polish up some of the winners' Wiki entries, though. For instance... If > "Jellomancer" got one of these awards, where's its commemorative plaque? And > did the September 11 issue of Limp-Asparagus Boy really win a 2009 award? Absolutely! The Hall of Fame is for what people *remember* - "what has stood the test of time", as you mention, is the entire point. (And augh. There's so much of the LNH that needs added to the wiki. It's like a five-alarm fire and all I've got is a teacup, sometimes. @-@) > Before we vote anything else into the Hall of Fame, it will be good to consider > which of the previous inductees have stood the test of time. Some obviously > have; even I hear about "wReam" all the time. Others, not so much... I leave > it at that. There are a couple entries I'd disagree with as necessarily being as good as people remember them (though, to be fair, I've never actually read Golden LNH-Men), but I think all of them are, at least, influential? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, someone needs to do an Omega retrospective. From joltcity at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 17:47:54 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:47:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes Message-ID: ---------------------------------------------------- -------------EIGHTFOLD PROUDLY PRESENTS------------- -------------THE 2014 RACCIE WINNER FOR------------- --------------FAVORITE ONGOING SERIES--------------- ----------------FAVORITE NEW TITLE------------------ --------------FAVORITE DRAMA/ACRAPHOBE-------------- --------------FAVORITE ACTION/ADVENTURE------------- ---------------------------------------------------- ## ## #### ###### ## ## ######## ## ## ### ### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## #### #### ## ## ## ## ## #### ## ### ## ## ## #### ######### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## #### ###### ## ## ## ## -------------- ISSUE # 20 AUG 2015 -------------- ## ## ####### ######## ## ###### ## ## ### ### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## #### #### ## ## ## ## ## #### ## ### ## ###### ## ## ## ###### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ####### ######## ######## ###### ## ----------------------[8F-147]---------------------- -------------SAXON BRENTON--ANDREW PERRON----------- --------------TOM RUSSELL---COLIN STOKES------------ ---------------------------------------------------- --------------- Editor, Tom Russell ---------------- ---------------------------------------------------- CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE "The Forbidden Head" by Tom Russell A theft in the Hall of Miseries; double madness; the fate of a predecessor; anti-baronic radiations. "Empress of Pages" Part 7, by Colin Stokes Negotiations are finalized between the Librarian and the daemon. What is spoken and what remains silent; what is given and what is withheld. "Beyond the Fields" Part 19, by Saxon Brenton In which our heroines discuss the limits of synchronicity, the pitfalls of fairy-tale logic, the significance of Rotwert, and these are not the droids you're looking for. "Seven 'Gainst Thebes" Part 18, by Tom Russell Breakfast with Strife, et al. The depravity of their host, and the humiliation of his bride. What Dash Adams can do with a bullet, but not a gun. "Clever Girl" by Andrew Perron In which we might the titular female, full of wiles and wit and distaff charm. Of research grants and unreliable narrators, and red teeth. ---------------------------------------------------- -----------------THE FORBIDDEN HEAD----------------- ---------------------------------------------------- ------------Copyright 2015 Tom Russell-------------- ---------------------------------------------------- "Winslow, come at once! It's an emergency!" The manservant nimbly flies down the secret staircase to join his bizarre master in the eerie Hall of Miseries! His master looks furious! ...But that could just be that he's presently wearing Head No. 2, which is always on fire, the flesh smoked and black and cracked, which lends THE HEADSMAN a grim and diabolical aspect...! "Winslow, did you wash one of my heads lately?!" "Not recently, milord, no! Not since last Wednesday, and that was at your express direction, as you had run into a spot of bother while sporting Head No. 7, the Tiger's Head, which gives you all the powers of a tiger!" "Just as I thought!" says the Headsman. "...You see, Winslow, Head no. 13 is missing...!" "Number 13!" exclaims Winslow. "The Forbidden Head!" "Aptly-named!" says the Headsman. "For it is the most dangerous head of all! When attached, it renders its wearer completely invisible! But it drives the wearer mad! I've only used it once before!" "Really?!" says Winslow. "I don't recall...!" "It was before our bargain, Winslow!" says the Headsman. "Your predecessor saw me use it before he died! ...In fact, IMMEDIATELY before he died!" He laughs maniacally, another eerie side-effect of Head No. 2! "Oh dear!" "As I said, it causes madness! I can only assume some fiend has broken into the Hall of Miseries and absconded with it! Quickly, Winslow! I need Head No. 6! My Thinking Head!" With a nimble and well-practiced gesture, the Headsman neatly removes Head No. 2, the Daemon's Head, and places it upon its pedestal! Before his master has finished, Winslow has already attached the Thinking Head! The soft gray eyes blink to life, then shine with keen acuity! "To commence our investigation, my dear Winslow, we should ask, Cui bono?" -- the Thinking Head is very fond of Latin -- "Who benefits?" -- and also of translating Latin -- "And to that question, there can only be one answer, which should be within even your meager intellectual powers!" Winslow bristles. "If I may venture a guess, master, it would have to be someone who would be able to wear the head! It would be a silly theft otherwise! And excluding yourself, there is only person who is able to detach and reattach heads at will! Your arch nemesis! ...Baron Von Head!" "Indeed!" says the Headsman. "And he's already quite mad! If he should get his hands upon my Forbidden Head, and place it on his devious neck, I am afraid the result would be Double Madness!" "My word!" exclaims Winslow. "But the Baron is prevented from entering my Hall of Miseries due to its special radiations which are fatal specifically to his person, and his alone!" As always when this is mentioned, Winslow is not particularly assured by this. "And so we are looking for a go-between!" He examines the thirteenth pedestal with his magnifying glass. "Ah!" He plucks something from the pedestal and hands it to Winslow. "A red hair!" says Winslow. The Headsman laughs. "No, Winslow! Not a hair! Though I can see how you might think that!" (Really, not a fan of the Thinking Head!) "It's a string of red yarn! Which means the thief must be the Ragdoll Dandy!" He scrutinizes the yarn with his Geiger-Muller Counter! "The crime must have occurred in the last half-hour! Not much radiation! But there should be enough to leave a trail! If we hurry, we can catch him! I'll need to change heads, Winslow!" Thank goodness!, thinks Winslow. Anything is better than that insufferable, condescending, know-it-all Thinking Head! Anything at all! "Let the air be filled with the shrill, piercing, unnerving screams of the Cursed Head of the Shriek Owl!" ---------------------------------------------------- ---------------- EMPRESS OF PAGES ------------------ ----------------------Part 7------------------------ -----------Copyright 2015 Colin Stokes-------------- ---------------------------------------------------- =As you have listened, so shall I,= the Librarian murmured softly, sitting on the cave floor and resting her chin upon the heel of one hand. She stared at Fn'ordh, unwavering. =Speak your desire.= The daemon paused to collect his thoughts, to find the particular words to express himself with the clarity he required. It took him several moments of silence, but finally Fn'ordh let out a quiet breath. "I desire much," he began at a slow, measured pace, his voice steady and unyielding as the earth. "Freedom from the Jade Throne, and from the laws of the Netherworld itself. Freedom to explore, to exist; to live, when and where I see fit. Ultimately, that is all." =And perhaps to die?= the Librarian interjected during the brief silence, as softly as before. =For beginnings imply endings, and life implies death, at least under the laws of this world.= Which may or may not apply to me, she didn't add; of all the things she wanted to test, her own mortality was ranked near the bottom. The question gave Fn'ordh pause, but eventually he nodded. "There is a saying: 'Better to die a free man than live a slave.' Have you heard it before?" =The form is unfamiliar to me, but the content is not uncommon. But such sentiments are more appropriate for already short-lived mortals, are they not?= Fn'ordh's brow furrowed. "Then perhaps you have never truly lived in slavery." The Librarian closed her eyes, and smiled. =Perhaps I have not. Or perhaps my enslavement was of a different character; it matters not.= Opening her eyes again, she directed that golden gaze at the daemon before her. =You desire much indeed, and such things may not be possible. Or their... expression, I think, may be less than you are hoping. But you have my word that I will do all that is in my power to free you from your current circumstances, and present you with a situation far better than you could hope to achieve on your own.= After a long pause of consideration, Fn'ordh finally nodded. It was, after all, the best deal he was likely to see this side of oblivion - certainly the first he'd come across that had any real potential. "I find this... partnership acceptable, Librarian," he rumbled quietly. "Let me know what to do, and I shall do it, for the sake of our mutual interests. I shall advise you on the peculiarities of the Netherworld as well, for your knowledge may not be complete." Since I don't know exactly what you extracted from me apart from my name, he didn't add. =Most excellent,= the Librarian returned with a slightly wider smile, one that ever so slightly unnerved the daemon. =I would have been more than a little upset if I had been forced to restart this entire process with someone else.= Yes, definitely a good choice there. =Now then, to business. I have much to do - gathering materials, surveying and if necessary claiming sites - so it may be a little while before we meet again,= she continued in a brisk tone, insofar as it was possible for that human-yet-inhuman tone of hers to be brisk. =During that time, I have two tasks for you.= "I await your instructions," Fn'ordh returned evenly. =Fn'ordh.= The Librarian's tone was now somber, formal, grave. =I will not call you 'the Lesser', for you shall be the greatest among your kind for all the services you render unto me - and ultimately unto them as well, in setting them free. Nor will I use your full name unnecessarily, only as the occasion demands.= The daemon nodded again, thoughtfully. This was a pleasant turn of - =FN'ORDH RAEL MEREDITH.= - damn. His entire body nearly convulsed with her near-shout, as though he had been physically struck, but he looked into that golden-eyed gaze with conviction. "I hear and... obey." The last word actually wasn't as difficult this time. The Librarian locked eyes with Fn'ordh. =Your first task is to engage your fellow daemons. Search their hearts for disloyalty to the Throne, dissatisfaction with it, for any with kindred spirits to your own, and make them known to me.= That wouldn't be too difficult, Fn'ordh mused as he nodded; rather it would be a question of who /wouldn't/ want to topple the Jade Throne, given the opportunity. There were still some loyalists, and it wouldn't do to poison this daring plan with their unwelcome and likely dangerous presence. =Your second task is to acquire for me, through whatever means you see fit, as many true names as you can. Bring them to me, and I shall bleed the Netherworld of its strength until the path to the Wellspring is clear,= the Librarian finished. "It shall be done as you command," the daemon replied - it /was/ a command, after all, no way around that. He'd just have to deal with it for now. =That is good,= the lady returned softly, walking over to the summoning circle and sending her wires out to extinguish the braziers. =Go in peace, Fn'ordh.= Only after the daemon discorporated fully did the Librarian let herself weep. ---------------------------------------------------- -----------------BEYOND THE FIELDS------------------ ---------------------Part 19------------------------ -----------Copyright 2015 Saxon Brenton------------- ---------------------------------------------------- Elsewhere, Joan Smith and Deidre Landowski were travelling to Berlin by airship. It had begun with the two of them travelling to the airport facilities of the town of Rotwert. "It's impressive looking, I'll give you that," Joan had said as she had gazed around the airfield and particularly across at the moored airship that was waiting for boarding. Deidre had given her a querying look. "There's a problem?" Joan had frowned. "Rotwert isn't really a big enough town to justify an airport, let alone be on a major airship route to the capital," the angel explained. "From the looks of it the only important thing about it was the death camp situated nearby. Which is hardly a public facility that you could use to attract tourists," she added. Then the call for passengers to board had been made. The two women began to stroll towards the airship. "Yeah, I get what you mean," agreed Deidre. "There would have been a time when I'd probably be wondering whether this was the outcome of some pork barreling project. But after that encounter with the troll and the billy goats armed with combat mecha?" She shook her head ruefully. "Well, we know now that parts of this place seem to be operating on fairy tale logic. Or worse." At the boarding gate Joan had presented some vaguely appropriate looking pieces of paper, and in a move that would have darkly amused Marcus because of the parallels to his own act of fraud she had said, "As you can see, these tickets are in order." The attendant glanced at paper, smiled, and confirmed, "Yes, those tickets are in order. Please have a pleasant flight." As they moved on Deidre had murmured, "Nice to see the movie classics haven't gone out of style." Once on board Deidre had led them, seemingly at random but guided by synchronicity, to a pair of seats that by rights shouldn't have been booked and remained empty for them to bluff their way to Berlin. However as she sat down Deidre voiced doubt about this. "I hope there are no narrative set pieces or computer game style check-points that we have to navigate through to get to our destination," she said, gazing around at the opulent decor. "Half a mile up in the air gives us very little room to manouevre if we need to make a run for it." "Do you think that's likely?" Joan had asked. "I don't know," admitted Deidre. "Normally synchronicity will take us where we need to be to handle the things that need to be dealt with, and let us sidestep any problems that don't relate to that. But if this world is operating to any extent on some sort of twisted fairy tale logic, then who knows what a story would consider to be 'related'. Think of a story where the plot doesn't move forward by following a sequential series of tasks or even collecting clues, but instead through a series of arbitrary events designed to develop character and keep the audience interested." Joan had raised a querying eyebrow at Deidre's vehemence. "I've been in a few worlds like that," Deidre explained in return. "Admittedly a long, long time ago, but you don't forget that sort of thing. It adds a certain level of terror to trying to navigate a dreamscape." "Well, in that regard I have to admit I've got my own suspicions that I want to check out," Joan had said, and that had prompted Deidre's turn to use a querying look. Joan said, "Originally I had been thinking that the pollution of the psychic atmosphere was the main problem. But as you say, the troll bridge incident suggests that there's some deeper and stranger going on. More than can be accounted for by mere magical pollution from death magics, at any rate." Joan glanced around the cabin with a smile, as if she was happy and anticipating a nice flight, but her voice was more serious. "I want to take more time to examine why this place feels almost but not quite like a dream, and an hour long flight seems like a good time to do that. I'll seem to be asleep, and I definitely won't be paying attention to the here and now. Wake me if any of those narrative set pieces get wheeled on stage." That had all been a while ago. The airship had travelled on, and Deidre had watched the passing countryside far below while also keeping a discrete eye on the goings on in the airship cabin. Joan continued to sit in her seat, apparently sleeping. However a careful observer would note that she did not shift about in her sleep, neither leaning to one side or the other, nor letting her head drop forward. Instead she sat with her eyes closed and her hands folded across her lap like some carefully arranged mannequin. And now, slightly more than a quarter hour out from Berlin, she inhales deeply and opens her eyes, and says, "I think we may have a problem." ---------------------------------------------------- --------------SEVEN 'GAINST THEBES------------------ ---------------------Part 18------------------------ ------------Copyright 2015 Tom Russell-------------- ---------------------------------------------------- Breakfast came out on platters: thick greasy rashers, buttered biscuits (more butter than biscuit), eggs so runny they were more like soup, and dense globs of coarsely mashed potatoes. There was no gravy on the potatoes; instead, it was drowned in bacon grease and yoke. Peake ate his breakfast methodically, neatly, a little bite at a time, picking it to death with his whittling knife. Ned Strife, on the other hand, just shoveled it in, the grease wet and noisy on his lips, drippings streaking down his chin. "Why ain't any of you all eating?" demanded Strife, potato smacking between his teeth and tongue. As if in response, Skin of Snake forced a mouthful of egg down his gullet. "And you?" said Strife to Celine. "I'll help her," said Peake, wiping eagerly at the corners of his mouth. "No; I want Mr. Clay to do it. Mr. Clay?" Skin of Snake nodded, and moved his spoon toward her plate. "No, not that way," said Strife. Skin of Snake knew what he meant. He grabbed Celine by her long black hair, pulling it hard, and then shoved her face into the plate. Obediently, she worked her jaw against the mess of potatoes and egg. With a cruel flourish, Skin of Snake rubbed her face around the plate like a cloth or a mop. When he pulled her back up again, she was covered in white potatoes, yellow egg, clear drippings, and brown-black-red flecks of bacon. But her face had no expression. She would not give them that satisfaction. Perversely, it did just that. "Oh," said Strife, his eyes twinkling, "oh, I'm going to love breaking you down, sweetheart. Looks like she's hungry for more, Mr. Clay. If you would be so obliging?" "Bastard," said Adams. The twinkle disappeared. "What did you say to me, sir?" "You heard me." "I did," said Strife. "I just wanted to hear you say it again. Before I kill you for it." "Then I guess I'm not going to say it again, will I?" said Adams. He smiled broadly. Strife smiled back. "I guess you won't. Smart man. You get by on charm mostly, don't you?" "When I can," said Adams. "And when you can't?" "Then I find that bullets work reasonably well." The insult was forgotten. So was the degradation of Celine, and for that, Skin of Snake was thankful. Both Strife and Peake now gave Dash Adams their full attention. Said Peake, "Of course, you don't have any bullets now." "Then I guess it's charm mostly," said Adams with a shrug. "Leastways until I get my hands on a bullet." Peake smiled at Strife, thin and taut. Strife nodded; Peake reached into his pocket, pulled out a single bullet, and slid it across the table to Adams. "You'd need a gun as well, I reckon," said Peake. "Oh, that'd be helpful, for sure," mused Adams, holding the bullet between his fingers and looking it over thoughtful-like. "But I don't see it as being strictly necessary. And besides, you were so kind as to oblige me the bullet, it would be churlish of me to ask for a gun on top of it." "Then what are you going to do with it?" said Peake. "Oh," said Adams, rolling the bullet between his palms, up his fingers and back down again, "I'm going to kill you with it, Mr. Peake." "Without a gun?" "Without a gun," said Adams. "And how will you manage that?" said Peake. "Well, for real and for true, I haven't rightly figured that part out just yet," lied Adams. "But when I do, I dare say you will be the first to know." ---------------------------------------------------- --------------------CLEVER GIRL--------------------- ---------------------------------------------------- -----------Copyright 2015 Andrew Perron------------- ---------------------------------------------------- They had managed to trap it in a glass cage. It paced back and forth, fluffing its colorful feathers, examining them with focused orange eyes, fangs glinting red in the emergency lighting. "What do we do with it?" "Contact Advanced Research." "No! If they know about this breach, they'll extirpate us all!" "Maybe we should let it go," suggested a youthful, feminine voice. They spun and looked at the small, birdlike dinosaur, looking back up at them. "It can talk!?" Its plumes puffed, an uncanny imitation of human body language. "*She* can talk, gents." Her mouth simply opened, and sound came out as her throat muscles worked. "Manners, please." They leaned in as one, fascinated despite the danger. "How..." "Ah!" She hopped forward eagerly, and they startled back. "That's a long story. Come, listen..." "Twenty-six years ago they had the idea - reverse-engineer dinosaurs out of modern-day birds. Twenty years ago they were able to secure a grant. Fifteen years ago, after three failed trials, it ran out, and the ostrich whose eggs had been implanted with the genome for the fourth trial was purchased by a small farm in Idaho." "Forty-one days later, it began laying, a clutch of twenty eggs in all. Out of these, one, and precisely one, was viable." "You," said one of them. She tilted her head in acknowledgment. "I was painfully lucky. My mother treated me - at first - as a strange, smart bird, one that needed to be hidden lest she fall foul of exotic animal import laws. Then it became clear just how smart I was, and as she told me later--" Her voice changed here, becoming a deep midwestern drawl. "You don't choose who your children are, even if they drop out of your belly. You just love 'em." "So what you are saying," said one, stepping forward, "is that you are a scientifically valuable specimen with no official ties and no one who will come after you." She looked up at him with one of her eyes, then, tilting her head, the other. "Did I say that?" There was a yelp from outside. The thut-thut of tranquilizer rounds, the sizzle of exotic weaponry, and all was silent. "What..." "Remember when I said there was only one viable egg?" Her teeth glinted red in the emergency lighting. "Word of advice, gents: Never trust someone you've backed into a corner." There was a skittering in the darkness. ---------------------------------------------------- -----------------SEE YOU NEXT MONTH----------------- ---------------------------------------------------- All stories are the copyright of their authors. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 7 17:48:50 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:48:50 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> References: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 3:10 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Scott posted: > >>Okay, I respect Halls of Fame, even if I just visit later. It's >>probably time to polish up some of the winners' Wiki entries, though. >>For instance... If "Jellomancer" got one of these awards, where's its >>commemorative plaque? > > I suppose it would be nice if the Jellomancer had an entry (and links > > to the stories I guess would also be nice.) (But too lazy to do that > > myself.) > > >>And did the September 11 issue of Limp-Asparagus >>Boy really win a 2009 award? > > The people who voted in 2009 liked it better than the other possible > choices that didn't get in. ... ah, right. For some reason until five minutes ago, I was suffering a brain fart in which I read "11" and thought "2011", thereby detecting a chronal paradox. So, that said, the story was worthy. >>Before we vote anything else into the Hall of Fame, it will be good to >>consider which of the previous inductees have stood the test of time. >>Some obviously have; even I hear about "wReam" all the time. Others, >>not so much... I leave it at that. > > I'd love to see you come up with some objective manner in which that could > be done. Well, like any judges, we will still judge subjectively but grow in maturity of judgment. There is one objective measure we can take, though: Reduce the number of Hall of Fame awards per year. One award per year will eventually build into a big Lifetime Achievement gallery. > But when it gets down to it these things tend to be decided by the > subjective opinion of those that can be bothered to vote. And the > people who don't vote just have to live with it. > > Arthur "Democracy.." Spitzer Yeah, I was around in 2009. But being new to the group, I didn't vote. I'll join in the next vote, though. *Then* we can talk some more about how I like to decide things. 8{D> -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 7 17:50:46 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:50:46 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #10 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 2:57 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #10 > > Today's pick is the Writer's Block Woman entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Writer%27s%20Block%20Woman > > An LNH'r created by Jessica "Jaelle" Ihimaera-Smiler > that stars in her own self-named series (along with > her sidekick and daughter Mouse). > > Arthur "Shopping!" Spitzer That is indeed a fun concept. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 7 17:52:50 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:52:50 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #3: Solar Sail Roboto! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/6/2015 9:07 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/6/2015 8:11 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, love collaboration, love other >> people playing with my toys > > yay... Thanks, Andrew. And, aw, crap, I should have tagged this one LNH also! -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 17:53:29 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:53:29 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: <7ec145f8-0b48-4ec8-b2f4-b8c9d4a9900e@googlegroups.com> References: <7ec145f8-0b48-4ec8-b2f4-b8c9d4a9900e@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 6:10 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >There are a lot of great LNH stories we don't talk about anymore because the > authors vanished and all the characters from them were reserved and, well, > there's just so much LNH and RACC material in general. Like Misfits and > Legion of Occult Heroes and basically the entire Omega imprint. This is so terribly true. >The 9/11 issue of Limp Asparagus Lad was done several years later, due to LAL > being several years behind in continuity; it was sort of a retrospective > reflection on the role of 9/11 in pop culture. It's fantastic and audacious > and a perfect example of the kind of thing you can only get away with in LNH. YES. It's so incredibly good, and so incredibly necessary in expressing what you can do in... not just superhero fiction, but fiction in general, with these sorts of ideas and topics. And it really also emphasizes the importance of the non-corporateness of the LNH. Augh: http://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Series/Limp-Asparagus.Lad/Limp-Asparagus.Lad.55.gz Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, hmmmmmm. From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 17:53:59 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 17:53:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 6:10 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: > On Thursday, August 6, 2015 at 11:13:20 PM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: >> >> I've wanted to bring this back for a while, but it's never seemed like the right >> time. Hopefully, the shenanigans I'm planning will grow the LNH reader base. >> >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, shenanin' again > > If there's ever another one then I nominate Jamie Rosen SIGNED. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, my #1 From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 7 18:37:55 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 18:37:55 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 5:47 PM, Tom Russell wrote: > -----------------THE FORBIDDEN HEAD----------------- > ---------------------------------------------------- > ------------Copyright 2015 Tom Russell-------------- > ... > "A red hair!" says Winslow. > The Headsman laughs. "No, Winslow! Not a hair! Though I can see how > you might think that!" (Really, not a fan of the Thinking Head!) "It's > a string of red yarn! Which means the thief must be the Ragdoll > Dandy!" okay, it must be a tiny unraveled bit of red yarn. I get it now. Otherwise, a *butler* would know the difference between yarn and hair. > Thank goodness!, thinks Winslow. Anything is better than that > insufferable, condescending, know-it-all Thinking Head! Anything at > all! That's a very honest butler, at least in his own mind. > "Let the air be filled with the shrill, piercing, unnerving screams > of the Cursed Head of the Shriek Owl!" My, we have some interesting heads here. > ---------------- EMPRESS OF PAGES ------------------ > ----------------------Part 7------------------------ > -----------Copyright 2015 Colin Stokes-------------- > ... > =Fn'ordh.= The Librarian's tone was now somber, formal, grave. =I > will not call you 'the Lesser', for you shall be the greatest among > your kind for all the services you render unto me - and ultimately > unto them as well, in setting them free. Nor will I use your full > name unnecessarily, only as the occasion demands.= > The daemon nodded again, thoughtfully. This was a pleasant turn of - > =FN'ORDH RAEL MEREDITH.= Well, that's a classic moment. And I like the True Name. > Only after the daemon discorporated fully did the Librarian let herself weep. ... Pathos! I like it. > -----------------BEYOND THE FIELDS------------------ > ---------------------Part 19------------------------ > -----------Copyright 2015 Saxon Brenton------------- > ... > Joan continued to sit in her seat, apparently sleeping. However a > careful observer would note that she did not shift about in her sleep, > neither leaning to one side or the other, nor letting her head drop > forward. Instead she sat with her eyes closed and her hands folded > across her lap like some carefully arranged mannequin. And now, > slightly more than a quarter hour out from Berlin, she inhales deeply > and opens her eyes, and says, "I think we may have a problem." ... Oh, my, is heroic stoic Nazi sacrifice about to interfere with something? I'm interested in finding out. > --------------------CLEVER GIRL--------------------- > ---------------------------------------------------- > -----------Copyright 2015 Andrew Perron------------- > ... > They had managed to trap it in a glass cage. It paced back and > forth, fluffing its colorful feathers, examining them with focused > orange eyes, fangs glinting red in the emergency lighting. > "What do we do with it?" > "Contact Advanced Research." > "No! If they know about this breach, they'll extirpate us all!" ... gee, Andrew, it must be fun to say "extirpate". 8{D> > "Maybe we should let it go," suggested a youthful, feminine voice. > They spun and looked at the small, birdlike dinosaur, looking back up at them. > "It can talk!?" Heh. Contributors can put stuff like *this* into your universe, Tom? A species war could be kind of world-shaking. But in a good way. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 19:00:54 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 19:00:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> References: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 6:10 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > I suppose it would be nice if the Jellomancer had an entry (and links > to the stories I guess would also be nice.) (But too lazy to do that > myself.) Aaaaaa *runs around carrying stacks of paper and singing "We Didn't Start the Fire"* > But when it gets down to it these things tend to be decided by the > subjective opinion of those that can be bothered to vote. And the > people who don't vote just have to live with it. It's true; I'd rather show the historical context of 2007 than try to erase its effect. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, it's fascinating From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 19:03:57 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 19:03:57 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: References: <0BB6F5B4-7ABE-4F62-80C9-8288D3CF6CE8@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 8:48 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > > Well, like any judges, we will still judge subjectively but grow in maturity of > judgment. There is one objective measure we can take, though: Reduce the > number of Hall of Fame awards per year. One award per year will eventually > build into a big Lifetime Achievement gallery. I think that's something that we came up with at some point when discussing how to bring them back, yeah. Along with the possibility of having big public discussions on what actually goes on the final ballot. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, send me on my way~ From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 21:15:26 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 21:15:26 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 9:37 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/7/2015 5:47 PM, Tom Russell wrote: >> "What do we do with it?" >> "Contact Advanced Research." >> "No! If they know about this breach, they'll extirpate us all!" > > .... gee, Andrew, it must be fun to say "extirpate". 8{D> IT IS. :D (This in specific was a Skin Horse reference!) >> "Maybe we should let it go," suggested a youthful, feminine voice. >> They spun and looked at the small, birdlike dinosaur, looking back up at them. >> "It can talk!?" > > Heh. Contributors can put stuff like *this* into your universe, Tom? A species > war could be kind of world-shaking. But in a good way. Tom has been really great about letting me run wild with potentially setting-shaking ideas. But in a setting where stuff like The Last Story happens, it's clear that he's already dancing on the San Andreas Fault. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, it involves walnuts. From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 7 21:28:51 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 21:28:51 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/7/2015 8:47 PM, Tom Russell wrote: > The manservant nimbly flies down the secret staircase to join his > bizarre master in the eerie Hall of Miseries! His master looks > furious! ...But that could just be that he's presently wearing Head > No. 2, which is always on fire, the flesh smoked and black and > cracked, which lends THE HEADSMAN a grim and diabolical aspect...! YES THIS IS FUN. > Not since last Wednesday, and that was > at your express direction, as you had run into a spot of bother while > sporting Head No. 7, the Tiger's Head, which gives you all the powers > of a tiger!" I mean, he's burning bright *right now*. > "Number 13!" exclaims Winslow. "The Forbidden Head!" GASP. > "Aptly-named!" says the Headsman. "For it is the most dangerous > head of all! When attached, it renders its wearer completely > invisible! But it drives the wearer mad! I've only used it once > before!" The Head of Gyges? Though perhaps it's more like the Head of Vecna. > "It was before our bargain, Winslow!" says the Headsman. "Your > predecessor saw me use it before he died! ...In fact, IMMEDIATELY > before he died!" He laughs maniacally, another eerie side-effect of > Head No. 2! Oh my. :D :D :D This is so very Golden Age > "Indeed!" says the Headsman. "And he's already quite mad! If he > should get his hands upon my Forbidden Head, and place it on his > devious neck, I am afraid the result would be Double Madness!" NOT THAT > "But the Baron is prevented from entering my Hall of Miseries due > to its special radiations which are fatal specifically to his person, > and his alone!" As always when this is mentioned, Winslow is not > particularly assured by this. Heeheehee > "A red hair!" says Winslow. > The Headsman laughs. "No, Winslow! Not a hair! Though I can see how > you might think that!" (Really, not a fan of the Thinking Head!) XD XD XD > Thank goodness!, thinks Winslow. Anything is better than that > insufferable, condescending, know-it-all Thinking Head! Anything at > all! > "Let the air be filled with the shrill, piercing, unnerving screams > of the Cursed Head of the Shriek Owl!" AMAZING. <3 > The question gave Fn'ordh pause, but eventually he nodded. "There > is a saying: 'Better to die a free man than live a slave.' Have you > heard it before?" > =The form is unfamiliar to me, but the content is not uncommon. But > such sentiments are more appropriate for already short-lived mortals, > are they not?= > Fn'ordh's brow furrowed. "Then perhaps you have never truly lived > in slavery." I've commented on this story in private, but man. I really like this part. > Only after the daemon discorporated fully did the Librarian let herself weep. AND THIS. Libby ;.; > Think of a story where the plot doesn't move forward by > following a sequential series of tasks or even collecting clues, but > instead through a series of arbitrary events designed to develop > character and keep the audience interested." > Joan had raised a querying eyebrow at Deidre's vehemence. "I've > been in a few worlds like that," Deidre explained in return. > "Admittedly a long, long time ago, but you don't forget that sort of > thing. It adds a certain level of terror to trying to navigate a > dreamscape." Wow, I didn't know Deidre had visited the Looniverse. <3 > "No, not that way," said Strife. Skin of Snake knew what he meant. uuuuuuugh ugh ugh ugh kill destroy massacre > "Oh," said Adams, rolling the bullet between his palms, up his > fingers and back down again, "I'm going to kill you with it, Mr. > Peake." > "Without a gun?" > "Without a gun," said Adams. > "And how will you manage that?" said Peake. > "Well, for real and for true, I haven't rightly figured that part > out just yet," lied Adams. "But when I do, I dare say you will be the > first to know." Super. Fuckin. Badass. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, so cool From mdfriedman at gmail.com Sat Aug 8 05:44:24 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 05:44:24 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 1 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <5cd54db6-4383-4aed-87b9-b0b86f985b98@googlegroups.com> Me too! I always enjoyed the "exquisite corpse" type of storytelling. It's a lot of fun. From deucexm at gmail.com Sat Aug 8 08:28:08 2015 From: deucexm at gmail.com (deucexm) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 08:28:08 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <57cfe4b5-81fe-4298-b1fb-f830df8de907@googlegroups.com> On Friday, August 7, 2015 at 11:15:27 PM UTC-5, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/7/2015 9:37 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > > On 8/7/2015 5:47 PM, Tom Russell wrote: > > >> "What do we do with it?" > >> "Contact Advanced Research." > >> "No! If they know about this breach, they'll extirpate us all!" > > > > .... gee, Andrew, it must be fun to say "extirpate". 8{D> > > IT IS. :D (This in specific was a Skin Horse reference!) > I /knew/ that sounded terribly familiar! Also, it completely suits Andrew's sense of style. It is /so/ much fun to see all these stories side-by-side in the same universe, with different tones and verbiage and structure and whatnot, and yet know that despite their differences they're all - at least in some sense - linked. And also that they /don't/ have any glaring mechanical errors that detract from the enjoyment of reading. (That's a huge immersion-killer for me.) From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 8 12:07:07 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 12:07:07 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #9 In-Reply-To: <7ec145f8-0b48-4ec8-b2f4-b8c9d4a9900e@googlegroups.com> References: <7ec145f8-0b48-4ec8-b2f4-b8c9d4a9900e@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: Also, I'm re-reading it on the spur of the moment, and I think nowadays, I pretty strongly disagree with Tom's intro to Limp-Asparagus Lad. A lot of my work is about merging social relevance with freeform superhero fun, and it works wonderfully - it turns out a genre about personifying ideas and having them battle it out goes well with talking about the clash of ideas in our society and their consequences? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, personifying EVERYTHING. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sat Aug 8 13:07:25 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 13:07:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #11 Message-ID: <72019B29-36F4-4329-9C98-6CBDF51688E5@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #11 Today's pick is the Limp=Asparagus Lad (series) entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Limp-Asparagus%20Lad%20%28series%29 Saxon Brenton's Limp-Asparagus Lad series devoted to the same named character as well as Fourth Wall Lass, Retcon Lad and various other characters (some with incredibly long names). Arthur "Kid Not Appearing in Anyone's Middle Name.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 8 13:16:49 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 13:16:49 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: <57cfe4b5-81fe-4298-b1fb-f830df8de907@googlegroups.com> References: <57cfe4b5-81fe-4298-b1fb-f830df8de907@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/8/2015 11:28 AM, deucexm wrote: > On Friday, August 7, 2015 at 11:15:27 PM UTC-5, Andrew Perron wrote: >> On 8/7/2015 9:37 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >>> .... gee, Andrew, it must be fun to say "extirpate". 8{D> >> >> IT IS. :D (This in specific was a Skin Horse reference!) >> > I /knew/ that sounded terribly familiar! Also, it completely suits Andrew's > sense of style. *cackles* I mean, I had to have them suggest that sort of thing, and it just seemed perfect. > It is /so/ much fun to see all these stories side-by-side in the same universe, > with different tones and verbiage and structure and whatnot, and yet know that > despite their differences they're all - at least in some sense - linked. HELL YEAH. :D > And also that they /don't/ have any glaring mechanical errors that detract from > the enjoyment of reading. (That's a huge immersion-killer for me.) You know, this reminds me of something I was thinking about. After another friend said that the meta-ness of the LNH prevented immersion for them, I gotta wonder if my idea of "immersion" is different from everyone else's - because I'm fully able to be what I consider "immersed" while, at the same time, being perfectly aware that I *am* reading, and that what I'm reading is fiction (and not particularly realistic fiction, at that). Heck, I couldn't have made it through Limp-Asparagus Lad were it otherwise, and that's one of my favorites. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, pondersome. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 8 14:42:45 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 14:42:45 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #11 In-Reply-To: <72019B29-36F4-4329-9C98-6CBDF51688E5@earthlink.net> References: <72019B29-36F4-4329-9C98-6CBDF51688E5@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/8/2015 4:07 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #11 > > Today's pick is the Limp=Asparagus Lad (series) entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Limp-Asparagus%20Lad%20%28series%29 > > Saxon Brenton's Limp-Asparagus Lad series devoted to the same named > character as well as Fourth Wall Lass, Retcon Lad and various > other characters (some with incredibly long names). Ah, man. This was one of the first series pages I really focused on after I started editing the wiki, reading through the whole series and adding ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING. Frankly, I may have overdone it - I know I came back and took off a couple things later, like Parsifal, the humanoid canine from the Nazi-dominated world known as Net.Earth-X, who came in during one of the issue skips and, in published stories, appears in one scene of one issue. > Arthur "Kid Not Appearing in Anyone's Middle Name.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Kid NAIARHS is so rad. From seiler at eilertech.com Sat Aug 8 16:32:25 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2015 16:32:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 20, August 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes In-Reply-To: References: <57cfe4b5-81fe-4298-b1fb-f830df8de907@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/8/2015 1:16 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > You know, this reminds me of something I was thinking about. After > another friend said that the meta-ness of the LNH prevented immersion > for them, I gotta wonder if my idea of "immersion" is different from > everyone else's - because I'm fully able to be what I consider > "immersed" while, at the same time, being perfectly aware that I *am* > reading, and that what I'm reading is fiction (and not particularly > realistic fiction, at that). Heck, I couldn't have made it through > Limp-Asparagus Lad were it otherwise, and that's one of my favorites. > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, pondersome. heh. I used to "immerse" myself in fiction, but only by *inserting* myself (or my favorite avatar) into it. A lot of my stories come from stuff like that. But I don't do a lot of that anymore, because I insert myself into my *own* stories. And that's just as well. I used to come up with stuff like a Captain America / Daredevil / Ellipsis team-up... That concept has not survived. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sun Aug 9 18:07:30 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian McClure) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2015 18:07:30 -0700 (PDT) Subject: MISC: De Profundis Message-ID: This is a story I posted on tumblr last year, as part of the now sadly defunct Prompt Service. I figured I might as well post it here. You may notice strong thematic links with the LNHY work I was doing at the time. **** When I was taken into the waters and reborn, my faith was sure. I longed for the day when the stars will be right, when our Lord would rise for the depths and crush the human race beneath Its holy feet. But my faith is not what it once was. Over time, alone in the dim city under the ocean, I began to regret my loss of human life. I began to think of all the many people living their lives across the world, people such as I once was, and how it hardly seemed fair to condemn them all to death. Though I have heard my God?s voice, I have never before seen Its face. I knew that if I did, it would probably mean that my time?and perhaps that of humanity?was near its end. Nonetheless, I knew that prayer was not enough?I would have to speak to It face to face. I have studied the sacred texts for many years and knew how to navigate many-angled labyrinths where It lay sleeping. After many days of travel, I came to the deepest part of the city, the place of utter darkness where my God lies dreaming. The blue flame of my candle barely illuminated my own face. I sang the song I had read of in the old books that even the higher adepts of our order fear to read. In the darkness, I heard something stir. A great roar resounded throughout the room, shaking me on my fate. A vast crimson eye opened. ?YES WHAT IS IT?? ?O Unpronouncable Lord of the Depths?? ?HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU? IT?S ?UNSPEAKABLE.? IT?S NOT MY FAULT IF YOU HUMANS HAVEN?T EVOLVED ENOUGH TO PROPERLY PRONOUNCE MY NAME.? ?Oh Lord, I beseech you to hearken unto me?? ?WHAT DO YOU WANT? THE TIME WHEN I SHALL AWAKE DRAWS NEAR. I HAVEN?T GOT ALL DAY, YOU KNOW.? ?I?? I stood dumbfounded while It waited. Eventually my fear of would happen if I said nothing became greater than my fear of what would happen if I spoke. ?I no longer desire the destruction of the human race.? ?WHAT? IT?S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW. YOU?RE NOT EVEN HUMAN ANYMORE. YOU?VE MADE YOUR BED, NOW LIE IN IT.? ?I?? I knew that this was true. I didn?t know what else there was to say. ?ARE YOU GOING TO LEAVE OR AM I GOING TO HAVE TO SMITE YOU?? With a trembling voice, I could only speak one word: ?Why?? ?WHY WHAT?? ?Why do you seek to bring an end to humankind?? A noise like a mighty wind filled the room, almost knocking me off my feet, though I stood firm. I realized it was a sigh. ?NONE OF YOU EVER UNDERSTAND. ALL I EVER WANTED WAS A GOOD NIGHT?S SLEEP BUT YOU HUMANS KEEP WAKING ME UP. YOU POISON THE OCEANS AND MAKE ALL THAT GODAWFUL RACKET.? I raised my eyebrows. ?Have you ever actually listened to any of it?? ?WELL? NO.? ?Your mind is vaster than we mortals can imagine is it not?? ?OF COURSE.? ?Than can you try?? ?ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT.? It exhaled. And then a strange, hideous, roaring noise burst forth. For all our conversation I had been trembling, and now I could bear no more?I collapsed to the wet, spongy floor. I felt as if I were going to go deaf. For a long time?how long I could not tell?we were both silent, my God and I. I wondered if Its eyes were closed as mine were. It was my God who was the first to speak. ?HMM, WELL? It said. ?I?LL HAVE TO THINK ABOUT THIS.? I moaned. ?GO ON,? It said. ?DO YOUR THING.? In time I stirred, wandering back dazedly through the labyrinthine ways of the many-angled city. I do not know how I managed to find the right paths. Perhaps my God guided me. Perhaps It was curious what I would do next. I do not know why It chooses what It does, Its ways are not my ways. But I understand It better than I once did as soon as I heard that scream. For I now believe that It was afraid. That we are as alien and strange and sublime to It as It is to us. ---- Adrian "The Dark Spaceknight" McClure, now with sig "All spelling errors are to be ingored"--Stephen Ratliff -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sun Aug 9 20:39:33 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2015 20:39:33 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #12 Message-ID: <7282D120-339B-4E39-80DC-A281B099DA8D@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #12 Today's pick is the Beige Noon entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige%20Noon Beige Noon was an event mentioned in Todd "Scavenger" Kogutts Lurk of Faith Miniseries involving two cosmic entities known as the Bryttle Brothers and the havoc they inflicted on the Looniverse. Arthur "Not to be confused with Beige Lunch.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 9 23:08:05 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2015 23:08:05 -0700 (PDT) Subject: MISC: De Profundis In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/9/2015 9:07 PM, Adrian McClure wrote: > In time I stirred, wandering back dazedly through the labyrinthine ways of the > many-angled city. I do not know how I managed to find the right paths. Perhaps > my God guided me. Perhaps It was curious what I would do next. I do not know why > It chooses what It does, Its ways are not my ways. But I understand It better > than I once did as soon as I heard that scream. For I now believe that It was > afraid. That we are as alien and strange and sublime to It as It is to us. I just wanna say, I love this idea so much. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, SOGOOD From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 9 23:11:12 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2015 23:11:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #12 In-Reply-To: <7282D120-339B-4E39-80DC-A281B099DA8D@earthlink.net> References: <7282D120-339B-4E39-80DC-A281B099DA8D@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/9/2015 11:39 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #12 > > Today's pick is the Beige Noon entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige%20Noon > > Beige Noon was an event mentioned in Todd "Scavenger" > Kogutts Lurk of Faith Miniseries involving two cosmic > entities known as the Bryttle Brothers and the havoc > they inflicted on the Looniverse. Ah, yes - the precursor to Beige Countdown, Beige Midnight, and all of that fabulous kerfluffle. <3 I actually found out recently what was being parodied here - the "Black Dawn" event in Legion of Super-Heroes, which was a similarly off-screen event that happened during the Five Year Gap (which the http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Two%20and%20a%20Half%20Month%20Gap was similarly parodying), and which also involved a character sacrificing themselves to stop a great menace. > Arthur "Not to be confused with Beige Lunch.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, well, there *was* Beige Happy Hour... From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 10 19:13:51 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 10 Aug 2015 19:13:51 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #13 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #13 Today's pick is the Bad-Timing Boy entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Bad-Timing%20Boy Created by Vernon Harmon -- if there's a bad time to be anyplace, anytime -- this hero will be there.. Arthur "Try as he might to not be there.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 11 13:48:58 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 11 Aug 2015 13:48:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #13 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/10/2015 10:13 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #13 > > Today's pick is the Bad-Timing Boy entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Bad-Timing%20Boy > > Created by Vernon Harmon -- if there's a bad time to > be anyplace, anytime -- this hero will be there.. He's such a great gag character. That said, one of his big focus storylines wasn't on there until I added it just now - It's All In the Timing, by Jaelle, which ran alongside Culinary Disasters in LNH Comics Presents back in the day. > Arthur "Try as he might to not be there.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, very much appreciates Arthur's more modern addition of Bad Judgment Boy to the roster. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 11 16:34:12 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 11 Aug 2015 16:34:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 Message-ID: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 Today's pick is the Teenfactor (series) entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Teenfactor%20%28series%29 A series written by a teenage Tom Russell about a teenage superhero team.. Arthur "Still waiting for Thirtysomethingfactor.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 11 16:39:22 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 11 Aug 2015 16:39:22 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #13 Message-ID: <02ADF12C-6774-4701-83AB-925E32D2B3AE@earthlink.net> Andrew posted: >He's such a great gag character. That said, one of his big focus storylines >wasn't on there until I added it just now - It's All In the Timing, by Jaelle, >which ran alongside Culinary Disasters in LNH Comics Presents back in the day. That's a great Bad Timing Boy story.. > >> Arthur "Try as he might to not be there.." Spitzer > >Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, very much appreciates Arthur's more modern >addition of Bad Judgment Boy to the roster. Mostly created him because coming up with bad timing gags was a lot harder than coming up with bad judgment gags.. Arthur "Well, that and all the horrible stuff that I can do with him.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 11 16:45:10 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 11 Aug 2015 16:45:10 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 2 Message-ID: Chapter 2 by Daniel Warren.. From: franke at ucs.indiana.edu (Jerry L Franke) Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 2 Date: 2 Nov 1995 16:27:49 GMT We're reposting the initial chapters of the rec.arts.comics Challenge! leading up to the brand new finale (being written now). One chapter per day into December. Look elsewhere in this news group for Henry Broaddus' informational posting on the project. ============================================================================== RAC Challenge Chapter 2: Gunshots and Grapefruits by Daniel Warren title by Henry Broaddus ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Paragon the Ultimate Man was in trouble. Some people would consider themselves in trouble if they messed up at work or if they cheated on their wife and she found out. To Paragon being in a building that was about to blow him up with two innocent street punks wasn't too bad. But, when the person behind the trap was his arch-enemy Doctor Malevo and the building was impossible to get out off; that could be considered trouble. Above the triumphant cackling of Doctor Malevo, Paragon thought to himself. "I've got maybe thirty seconds left. Unless I suddenly get the ability to teleport, I've got to talk my way out of this." "So Doctor Malevo it seems you've fallen for my little trap, and I've fallen for your little trap, so what say we both forget about our traps and I walk out of here right now." "You think you can bluff me like a pathetic little street urchin. I know darn well you've set up no trap for me," bellowed Doctor Malevo. "Oh well, when you're about to be blown to bits it as good a time as any to use your trump card," thought The Ultimate Man. "Yeah, then what's in my hand, Doctor" Paragon held up his hand to reveal a tiny device--the Jas Rswert. "Go ahead blow me to smithereens, but your little Jas Rswert will go with it." "You dare to tempt me with my beloved. The one thing I cared for until you took it from me years ago." And now, now, when I finally have you at my mercy, you wave it in my face. You pathetic fool." "We both know you would kill yourself to get this. Let me go, or we'll see each other again in our next lives." "You win. Take the kids out of here. Walk away with your skin intact. Be gone from my cameras and speakers. I can't bear to look at you any longer. Leave unharmed, for now" As the doors opened once again the two punks and Paragon walked to safety, Paragon was left with his thoughts. That was reeeeeaaaaal close. Got to be more careful in the future, either that or learn to teleport. The Time: 2 weeks later Dirk's Diary: It's taken me two weeks to round up all those darn ray guns left by Doctor Malevo. In the chaos a dozen people were killed and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of property damage. All because he wanted to set up a trap for me. Well, now he's going to pay. [end] For the next 48 hours Paragon used every connection he had. He talked to every street punk, every alleged mob boss, and every dirty politician he knew of. It cost him a lot, but he found Doctor Malevo's secret hideout. It was the old fruit warehouse outside of the city. Paragon got there as fast as he could in the Ultimate-Mobile. He crashed through the door in dramatic fashion to find: Nothing. Just boxes of fruit. Paragon realized, with difficulty, he would have to wait to get some action. Or so he thought... Doctor Malevo stepped out from his hiding place. "And so we meet face to face for the first time, disregarding our masks of course, Paragon." "This is your end," threatened Paragon, "You're going to jail." Paragon attempted to leap across the entire warehouse, something that normally would be like falling off a log for him, but instead he traveled only a few feet. In fact he was also feeling a bit dizzy. And his ankle was hurting because he landed on it badly. Then it dawned on him. He was powerless! "Feeling okay Paragon? How's it like to be powerless for the first time in years? If you're wondering why, I'll tell you. Of course you couldn't stop me if you wanted to." Paragon was at this point almost unconscious. "You see super-powers come from the lack of a substance, not the addition of them. All humans have the capacity for super-powers, but when they're in contact with a certain substance, they are powerless. For almost all humans that substance is carbon. Since humans cannot rid themselves of carbon they are powerless. But you have a mutated power gene. For you, and others like you, it takes more complex substances to render you powerless. For you that substance is grapefruit. Luckily for you once grapefruit is in your vicinity once you will be immune of it. In other words you will only be powerless because of grapefruit once. Of course one chance is all I need." Doctor Malevo then pulled out a gun. "Good-bye Paragon. Gunshots and grapefruits--That's how you kill a super-hero!!!!!!!!" Paragon then realized he was in trouble again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- * Next issue: Chapter 3: Ducks and Delirium by Michael Kelly ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- First off, sorry for any spelling and punctuation errors, I had to write this pretty fast and didn't have time to check it properly. Second I must say Henry Broaddus wrote a very good opening story (even if though he is a bastard :-)). Third, anyone who wants to retcon into non-existence the vulnerability to grapefruits part, feel free. (It was better than my other idea to turn Paragon into a radioactive grapefruit). Good luck to Michael Kelly who gets to continue the chaos next chapter. Daniel Warren ============================================================================== -- Jerry L. Franke franke at cs.indiana.edu Computer Science Dept. Indiana University formerly from Florida State University http://www.cs.fsu.edu/~franke From joltcity at gmail.com Wed Aug 12 03:11:09 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 03:11:09 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: Oh noes From the-deeman at webtv.net Wed Aug 12 05:47:25 2015 From: the-deeman at webtv.net (the-deeman at webtv.net) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 05:47:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> "A FAIRY TALE FARE THEE WELL!!!" With the princess saved, war diverted, and peace between kingdoms restored, our heroes Chevalier and Tom-Tom return to their farm and their lives...And live happily ever after. Dee "Chevalier: The Queen's Mouseketeer" by Darryl Hughes and Monique MacNaughton. It's a fabled fairy tale of enor-mouse proportions. http://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Chevalier From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 12 13:45:18 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 13:45:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/11/2015 7:34 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 > > Today's pick is the Teenfactor (series) entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Teenfactor%20%28series%29 > > A series written by a teenage Tom Russell about a > teenage superhero team.. Okay, so *this* entry is basically all Adrian. Back around the time LNH20 was taking off, he read through literally the entirety of Teenfactor - which is a big part of why there are so many LNH20 characters based on Tom's, like January Frost, Manga Girl, and Lass Dragon, as well as the Spoon of Destiny itself. He filled out most of the pages this page links to, as well. > Arthur "Still waiting for Thirtysomethingfactor.." Spitzer Tom, are you listening? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Factor Three From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 12 16:15:11 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 16:15:11 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #15 Message-ID: <511EB5B5-ACE1-4941-A6FD-B3253C839587@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #15 Today's pick is the Infinite Leadership Cry.Sig entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Infinite%20Leadership%20Crisis An LNH Comics Presents arc written by a number of LNH Writers, involving the Ultimate Ninja taking a vacation and the various other LNH'rs who take the mantle of LNH Leader mysteriously disappearing every day. Arthur "And a lot of skip issues.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 12 18:37:13 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 18:37:13 -0700 (PDT) Subject: MISC: De Profundis In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/9/2015 11:08 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/9/2015 9:07 PM, Adrian McClure wrote: > >> I do not know why It chooses what It does, >> Its ways are not my ways. But I understand It better than I once >> did as soon as I heard that scream. For I now believe that It was >> afraid. That we are as alien and strange and sublime to It as It is >> to us. > > I just wanna say, I love this idea so much. <3 > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, SOGOOD ahh, I see the idea's been revealed. So I'll admit, I like it too. That sort of idea seems to be respected in Human vs. Galaxy interactions, but I've never heard of it in Human vs. Elder Gods before. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 12 18:39:34 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 18:39:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 5:47 AM, the-deeman at webtv.net wrote: > "A FAIRY TALE FARE THEE WELL!!!" > > With the princess saved, war diverted, and peace between kingdoms > restored, our heroes Chevalier and Tom-Tom return to their farm and > their lives...And live happily ever after. I neglected to play "Complete This Sentence" last time. I was going to guess "... heroes for the Land Ever After!" But I guess that's part of living happily ever after too, especially if there's a sequel. :) > Dee > > "Chevalier: The Queen's Mouseketeer" by Darryl Hughes and Monique > MacNaughton. It's a fabled fairy tale of enor-mouse proportions. > http://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Chevalier > -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 12 18:41:12 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 18:41:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 1:45 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/11/2015 7:34 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >> Arthur "Still waiting for Thirtysomethingfactor.." Spitzer > > Tom, are you listening? > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Factor Three ehh, careful what you wish for. I'm preparing a story with EightysomethingFactor, with some guest stars from FiftysomethingFactor. Heh. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From the-deeman at webtv.net Wed Aug 12 19:12:21 2015 From: the-deeman at webtv.net (the-deeman at webtv.net) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 19:12:21 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <0989ba4f-bc6e-4fb1-a52a-7fac657c9107@googlegroups.com> On Wednesday, August 12, 2015 at 9:39:34 PM UTC-4, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/12/2015 5:47 AM, the-deeman at webtv wrote: > > "A FAIRY TALE FARE THEE WELL!!!" > > > > With the princess saved, war diverted, and peace between kingdoms > > restored, our heroes Chevalier and Tom-Tom return to their farm and > > their lives...And live happily ever after. > > I neglected to play "Complete This Sentence" last time. I was going to > guess "... heroes for the Land Ever After!" But I guess that's part of > living happily ever after too, especially if there's a sequel. :) > > > Dee > > > > "Chevalier: The Queen's Mouseketeer" by Darryl Hughes and Monique > > MacNaughton. It's a fabled fairy tale of enor-mouse proportions. > > http://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Chevalier > > > > > -- > (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- > > When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it > or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama > > I know. - Archie Andrews > > - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. There's a sequel plotted, but that'll be a ways off. I hope you enjoyed this one. The Continentals will be back in september and I'm working on a new project for me and Monique. I can only describe it as "Mean Girls meets Pulp Fiction". ;P Dee - Chev writer dude From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 12 19:22:41 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 19:22:41 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: <0989ba4f-bc6e-4fb1-a52a-7fac657c9107@googlegroups.com> References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> <0989ba4f-bc6e-4fb1-a52a-7fac657c9107@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 7:12 PM, the-deeman at webtv.net wrote: > On Wednesday, August 12, 2015 at 9:39:34 PM UTC-4, Scott Eiler wrote: >> On 8/12/2015 5:47 AM, the-deeman at webtv wrote: >>> "A FAIRY TALE FARE THEE WELL!!!" >>> >>> With the princess saved, war diverted, and peace between kingdoms >>> restored, our heroes Chevalier and Tom-Tom return to their farm and >>> their lives...And live happily ever after. >> >> I neglected to play "Complete This Sentence" last time. I was going to >> guess "... heroes for the Land Ever After!" But I guess that's part of >> living happily ever after too, especially if there's a sequel. :) > > There's a sequel plotted, but that'll be a ways off. Okay then, I suspected something in the pipeline, because I've gone on Facebook and seen pictures of Chevalier's next mount. :) > I hope you enjoyed this one. Yes, I did. You have an audacious approach to children's books, and I wish you success. > The Continentals will be back in September and I'm > working on a new project for me and Monique. I can only describe it > as "Mean Girls meets Pulp Fiction". ;P ah, I was wondering if I'd missed some Continentals. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 12 21:13:10 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 21:13:10 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 6:11 AM, Tom Russell wrote: > Oh noes THE OLD SHAME RETURNS. :D Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, mwahaha From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 12 22:59:19 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2015 22:59:19 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 9:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/12/2015 1:45 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >> On 8/11/2015 7:34 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > >>> Arthur "Still waiting for Thirtysomethingfactor.." Spitzer >> >> Tom, are you listening? >> >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Factor Three > > ehh, careful what you wish for. I'm preparing a story with > EightysomethingFactor, with some guest stars from FiftysomethingFactor. Heh. Isn't that just the JSA? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, more like Molden Age From the-deeman at webtv.net Thu Aug 13 05:54:03 2015 From: the-deeman at webtv.net (the-deeman at webtv.net) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 05:54:03 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Chevalier the Queen's Mouseketeer: A Heroes Heart -- Starts Today!!! In-Reply-To: References: <6347acae-8ceb-4d30-97d2-0962921fb44a@googlegroups.com> <2eb16d12-caa6-4534-9ffe-5fc44a228e3a@googlegroups.com> <0989ba4f-bc6e-4fb1-a52a-7fac657c9107@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <75b798e9-bb53-460a-a849-8c015628d86f@googlegroups.com> On Wednesday, August 12, 2015 at 10:22:42 PM UTC-4, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/12/2015 7:12 PM, the-deeman at webtv wrote: > > On Wednesday, August 12, 2015 at 9:39:34 PM UTC-4, Scott Eiler wrote: > >> On 8/12/2015 5:47 AM, the-deeman@ wrote: > >>> "A FAIRY TALE FARE THEE WELL!!!" > >>> > >>> With the princess saved, war diverted, and peace between kingdoms > >>> restored, our heroes Chevalier and Tom-Tom return to their farm and > >>> their lives...And live happily ever after. > >> > >> I neglected to play "Complete This Sentence" last time. I was going to > >> guess "... heroes for the Land Ever After!" But I guess that's part of > >> living happily ever after too, especially if there's a sequel. :) > > > > There's a sequel plotted, but that'll be a ways off. > > Okay then, I suspected something in the pipeline, because I've gone on > Facebook and seen pictures of Chevalier's next mount. :) > > > I hope you enjoyed this one. > > Yes, I did. You have an audacious approach to children's books, and I > wish you success. > > > The Continentals will be back in September and I'm > > working on a new project for me and Monique. I can only describe it > > as "Mean Girls meets Pulp Fiction". ;P > > ah, I was wondering if I'd missed some Continentals. > > -- > (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- > > When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it > or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama > > I know. - Archie Andrews > > - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. Chevalier's next mount? Oh, you mean the pictures of Chirpendale and Lord Falconaye from the hiatus? Yeah, there's a bird kingdom called Aves (which is latin for birds) in the sequel. And there will be dragons. No, you didn't miss any of The Continentals. It's back in september for the big finish to this adventure. Dee From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 13 13:35:56 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 13:35:56 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #15 In-Reply-To: <511EB5B5-ACE1-4941-A6FD-B3253C839587@earthlink.net> References: <511EB5B5-ACE1-4941-A6FD-B3253C839587@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 7:15 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #15 > > Today's pick is the Infinite Leadership Cry.Sig entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Infinite%20Leadership%20Crisis > > An LNH Comics Presents arc written by a number of LNH Writers, > involving the Ultimate Ninja taking a vacation and the > various other LNH'rs who take the mantle of LNH Leader > mysteriously disappearing every day. Ah, yes - a fun and well-conceived storyline, with interesting focus issues for *tons* of different LNHers. I still need to do all the issues I had planned out. >->; > Arthur "And a lot of skip issues.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, messed up the numbering for the Casey issue so very much. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 13 18:46:04 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 18:46:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/12/2015 10:59 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/12/2015 9:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >> On 8/12/2015 1:45 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >> >> ehh, careful what you wish for. I'm preparing a story with >> EightysomethingFactor, with some guest stars from >> FiftysomethingFactor. Heh. > > Isn't that just the JSA? Well, as close as *my* universe can come to it anyway... You're sure Lass Lady isn't available now? 8{D> > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, more like Molden Age Hey, man, respect your elders! 8{D> -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 13 19:23:07 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 19:23:07 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #4: G. I. Gov! Message-ID: What would 1984 be without its world-conquering villains - and Real American Warriors ready to fight them? Now, let's all try to remember who the villains *were* in 1984... Power-Star Comics continue! http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#4 This one has some Wiki support... because at least one of the team goes on to great things! http://www.eilertech.com/stories/wiki/Stonewater.htm -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 13 20:25:31 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 20:25:31 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 2 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/11/2015 7:45 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Paragon held up his hand to reveal a tiny device--the Jas Rswert. "Go ahead > blow me to smithereens, but your little Jas Rswert will go with it." Now, this I assume is a reference to *something*. Some RACC injoke? Some larger fandom weirdness? Who knows? We see them through a mirror darkly. > "You see super-powers come from the lack of a substance, not the addition of > them. All humans have the capacity for super-powers, but when they're in > contact with a certain substance, they are powerless. For almost all humans > that substance is carbon. Since humans cannot rid themselves of carbon they are > powerless. But you have a mutated power gene. For you, and others like you, it > takes more complex substances to render you powerless. For you that substance > is grapefruit. Luckily for you once grapefruit is in your vicinity once you > will be immune of it. In other words you will only be powerless because of > grapefruit once. Of course one chance is all I need." I like the basic weird-ass idea here, but the "will only work once" thing seems like an unnecessary complication. Of course, that was probably to keep anyone from using it for *their* cliffhanger in a later chapter. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, grapefruit shmapefruit From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 13 21:19:29 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2015 21:19:29 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #4: G. I. Gov! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/13/2015 10:23 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > What would 1984 be without its world-conquering villains - and Real American > Warriors ready to fight them? Now, let's all try to remember who the villains > *were* in 1984... Big Brother? > http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#4 Oh, I see. XD > This one has some Wiki support... because at least one of the team goes on to > great things! http://www.eilertech.com/stories/wiki/Stonewater.htm Huh! Fascinating. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, needs more blue lasers From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 14 01:59:41 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2015 01:59:41 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/13/2015 9:46 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/12/2015 10:59 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >> On 8/12/2015 9:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >>> On 8/12/2015 1:45 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >>> >>> ehh, careful what you wish for. I'm preparing a story with >>> EightysomethingFactor, with some guest stars from >>> FiftysomethingFactor. Heh. >> >> Isn't that just the JSA? > > Well, as close as *my* universe can come to it anyway... You're sure Lass Lady > isn't available now? 8{D> I figure Lass Lady's fate is going to be a Big Thing whenever it actually shows up in the story. You gotta conserve the big mysteries of the setting, you know? Can't just use them up willy-nilly. >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, more like Molden Age > > Hey, man, respect your elders! 8{D> Go to bed, old man! *pops a wheelie and peels out* Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, on a ten-speed From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 14 12:35:02 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2015 12:35:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 Today's pick is the Hex Luthor entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Hexadecimal%20Luthor Hexadecimal Luthor, created by Chris Hare and made president of the Loonited States by Saxon Brenton, caused all sorts of mischief in Beige Countdown and Beige Midnight. He eventually resigned (or maybe was impeached (or both)) and was replaced by Vice President Can't-Be-Bothered-to-Come-Up-With-A-Name who served the rest of his term in office. Arthur "Ah, History!" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 14 12:59:49 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2015 12:59:49 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 2 Message-ID: Andrew posted: >On 8/11/2015 7:45 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > >> Paragon held up his hand to reveal a tiny device--the Jas Rswert. "Go ahead >> blow me to smithereens, but your little Jas Rswert will go with it." > >Now, this I assume is a reference to *something*. Some RACC injoke? Some larger >fandom weirdness? Who knows? We see them through a mirror darkly. It's not a RACC injoke -- a lot of the writers on RAC Challenge were actually regulars on the various other rac groups and this was the only time they ever really did anything with RACC. Doing a google groups search, I didn't come up with anything except links to various RAC Challenge stories. So, I don't know if it has any sort of meaning.. Arthur "Just put it in the Y-Plex Burp files.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 14 13:16:40 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2015 13:16:40 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/14/2015 3:35 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Hexadecimal Luthor, created by Chris Hare and made president > of the Loonited States by Saxon Brenton, caused all sorts of > mischief in Beige Countdown and Beige Midnight. He eventually > resigned (or maybe was impeached (or both)) and was replaced > by Vice President Can't-Be-Bothered-to-Come-Up-With-A-Name > who served the rest of his term in office. Wasn't Haiku Gorilla his VP? ...ah, no, looking it up, I see that HG is Barracks Boatman's VP. My mistake. Man. Our version of the President Luthor story was way better than DC's. > Arthur "Ah, History!" Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, especially Saxon's bits. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 14 17:28:23 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2015 17:28:23 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/14/2015 1:59 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/13/2015 9:46 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >> On 8/12/2015 10:59 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >>> On 8/12/2015 9:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >>>> On 8/12/2015 1:45 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >>>> >>>> ehh, careful what you wish for. I'm preparing a story with >>>> EightysomethingFactor, with some guest stars from >>>> FiftysomethingFactor. Heh. >>> >>> Isn't that just the JSA? >> >> Well, as close as *my* universe can come to it anyway... You're sure >> Lass Lady isn't available now? 8{D> > > I figure Lass Lady's fate is going to be a Big Thing whenever it > actually shows up in the story. You gotta conserve the big mysteries of > the setting, you know? Can't just use them up willy-nilly. Oh, let's stuff that and give her a gratuitous guest appearance as an eighty-year-old, with a walker that has four tennis balls sliced open as casters, just for the sake of pathos! 8{D> ... On the other hand, I totally see your point. As it happens, I've sort of written that story with a *different* historic guest star already. I am saving it plus one other story, for breaks in the Powernaut publishing schedule. But both should come out before end of year. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Sat Aug 15 10:11:43 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 10:11:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On Fri 14/Aug/2015 Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/14/2015 3:35 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > >> Hexadecimal Luthor, created by Chris Hare and made president >> of the Loonited States by Saxon Brenton, caused all sorts of >> mischief in Beige Countdown and Beige Midnight. He eventually >> resigned (or maybe was impeached (or both)) and was replaced >> by Vice President Can't-Be-Bothered-to-Come-Up-With-A-Name >> who served the rest of his term in office. > > Wasn't Haiku Gorilla his VP? ...ah, no, looking it up, I see that HG is Barracks > Boatman's VP. My mistake. > > Man. Our version of the President Luthor story was way better than DC's. Oh crap yeah. > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, especially Saxon's bits. You're making me blush with all this fulsome praise. --- Saxon Brenton From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 13:02:51 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 13:02:51 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 2 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/14/2015 3:59 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > It's not a RACC injoke -- a lot of the writers on RAC Challenge were actually > regulars on the various other rac groups and this was the only time they > ever really did anything with RACC. Ahhhhh, that makes a lot of sense. > Doing a google groups search, I didn't come up with anything except > links to various RAC Challenge stories. So, I don't know if it has > any sort of meaning.. So weird. @.@ > Arthur "Just put it in the Y-Plex Burp files.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, but Y From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 13:02:54 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 13:02:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #14 In-Reply-To: References: <272FB2DD-A811-4580-A7D5-825321ECD8E6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/14/2015 8:28 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > Oh, let's stuff that and give her a gratuitous guest appearance as an > eighty-year-old, with a walker that has four tennis balls sliced open as > casters, just for the sake of pathos! 8{D> *snerk* > .... On the other hand, I totally see your point. As it happens, I've sort of > written that story with a *different* historic guest star already. I am saving > it plus one other story, for breaks in the Powernaut publishing schedule. But > both should come out before end of year. Very good. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, powertime! From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sat Aug 15 14:43:19 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 14:43:19 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 Message-ID: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 Today's pick is the Tantalizing Teens entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Tantalizing%20Teens A team of sidekicks first mentioned in the Cosmic Plot Device Caper.. Arthur "Whatever did happen to SideKick Man?" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 17:21:02 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 17:21:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/15/2015 1:11 PM, Saxon Brenton wrote: > On Fri 14/Aug/2015 Andrew Perron wrote: >> Man. Our version of the President Luthor story was way better than DC's. > > Oh crap yeah. > >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, especially Saxon's bits. > > You're making me blush with all this fulsome praise. Fulsome yet true! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, trulsome! From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 19:42:30 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 19:42:30 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 In-Reply-To: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> References: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/15/2015 5:43 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 > > Today's pick is the Tantalizing Teens entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Tantalizing%20Teens > > A team of sidekicks first mentioned in the Cosmic > Plot Device Caper.. I'm rather fascinated by these guys. For the longest time, I didn't realize that it was part of the backstory of actual characters, rather than just a tossed-off reference. > Arthur "Whatever did happen to SideKick Man?" Spitzer It was revealed in Electrocutioner's Song that he was actually an evil robot. That story's where you get most of the tantalizing info about these guys. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, these... teens? No, I don't think they are any longer From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 19:45:25 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 19:45:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 In-Reply-To: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> References: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> Message-ID: <4bfbc63c-78e9-4d6e-8579-21b8117aa8be@googlegroups.com> On Saturday, August 15, 2015 at 5:43:19 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 > > > Today's pick is the Tantalizing Teens entry: > > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Tantalizing%20Teens > Sig.File Man, Sig.File Man Not the same person as Sig.Lad They're easy to confuse He's the one who's not dead Look out, here comes the Sig.File Man Adrian From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 15 19:46:44 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2015 19:46:44 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 In-Reply-To: <4bfbc63c-78e9-4d6e-8579-21b8117aa8be@googlegroups.com> References: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> <4bfbc63c-78e9-4d6e-8579-21b8117aa8be@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/15/2015 10:45 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: > Sig.File Man, Sig.File Man > Not the same person as Sig.Lad > They're easy to confuse > He's the one who's not dead > Look out, here comes the Sig.File Man *guitar riff!* Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, amazing From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Sun Aug 16 09:27:16 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 09:27:16 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 In-Reply-To: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> References: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> Message-ID: <621f4ebd-d09a-4453-8cd2-0d037cd4d6d4@googlegroups.com> Another thing I'm wondering about--are there other members of the Tantalizing Teens we don't know about? They're kind of a Silver Age Teen Titans/X-Men-esque team so I assume there were acutally five members, including one girl. Adrian From mdfriedman at gmail.com Sun Aug 16 09:57:43 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 09:57:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: Speaking of Presidents, did the President Evil cascade ever come to a completion? Maybe it's time to revive it (again). Lots of parody opportunity this election season... From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 16 10:30:14 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 10:30:14 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #17 In-Reply-To: <621f4ebd-d09a-4453-8cd2-0d037cd4d6d4@googlegroups.com> References: <2CD162EC-33E8-4028-8EF8-6D25B45FD727@earthlink.net> <621f4ebd-d09a-4453-8cd2-0d037cd4d6d4@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/16/2015 12:27 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: >Another thing I'm wondering about--are there other members of the Tantalizing > Teens we don't know about? They're kind of a Silver Age Teen Titans/X-Men > -esque team so I assume there were acutally five members, including one girl. I always assumed there was a greater membership that we never saw. (And they always felt more Bronze Age to me, in a way that'd make sense for the backstory of a character who was moving from "teen" to "adult" in the late 80s/early 90s, a la Wally West.) Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, laaaaaa From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 16 10:57:43 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 10:57:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/16/2015 12:57 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >Speaking of Presidents, did the President Evil cascade ever come to a > completion? Maybe it's time to revive it (again). Lots of parody opportunity > this election season... It did not! And it *is* one of the few cascades we didn't tie back in, one way or another, during Just Another Cascade. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, President Evil II: Convolution From seiler at eilertech.com Sun Aug 16 16:36:38 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 16:36:38 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/4/2015 9:14 AM, Michael D Friedman wrote: ... > Anyway, here are the required elements: > > PROP: A rotary telephone > LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." > CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk > ANIMAL: A turtle > LOCATION: A baseball field > > Have fun with it... I'm giving you until 8/26, because why not? > > - Mike. Mike, I am on schedule to meet your challenge! It will probably be the most demented Powernaut-related comic to that date... and that's saying quite a bit, because *next week's* comic will *also* be the most demented Powernaut-related comic to that date. But anyway, I usually publish Powernaut comics on Thursdays such as 8/27. So, may I have a *one-day* extension? -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mdfriedman at gmail.com Sun Aug 16 20:12:03 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 20:12:03 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <2795b4b5-9d57-4aed-9f4a-d9eead285318@googlegroups.com> Sounds good to me. Extensions for everybody! YOU get an extension! YOU get an extension! YOU get an extension! (Channeling my inner Oprah) - Mike. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 17 17:41:02 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 17:41:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #18 Message-ID: <299945E0-7163-45DC-B7E1-096A024FB8EB@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #18 Today's pick is the Easily-Discovered Man Lite entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Easily-Discovered%20Man%20Lite Everyone's favorite ninja joke telling, spatula wielding Easily Discovered Man sidekick created by Rob Rogers.. Arthur "Or at least in the top ten.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 17 17:51:58 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 17:51:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 Message-ID: Michael posted: >Speaking of Presidents, did the President Evil cascade ever come to >a completion? Maybe it's time to revive it (again). Lots of parody >opportunity this election season... That does remind me of this reference I made to Jebidecimal Luthor (Hex Luthor's supposedly even smarter brother) in the Cauliflower miniseries.. He's Free For Use if anyone needs a Jeb Bush parody character.. Arthur "Or is it Jebadecimal?" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 17 20:42:02 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 20:42:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #18 In-Reply-To: <299945E0-7163-45DC-B7E1-096A024FB8EB@earthlink.net> References: <299945E0-7163-45DC-B7E1-096A024FB8EB@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/17/2015 8:41 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #18 > > Today's pick is the Easily-Discovered Man Lite entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Easily-Discovered%20Man%20Lite > > Everyone's favorite ninja joke telling, spatula wielding > Easily Discovered Man sidekick created by Rob Rogers.. Ah, Lite - so rad. Most of this was written by Rob back when the *first* wiki was created. Additions since have mostly been in the Appearances section, though I did also add Awards when I was going thru the RACCies and Accies. > Arthur "Or at least in the top ten.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, heehee, 'ninj' From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Mon Aug 17 20:49:18 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 20:49:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <666af2fd-ef5e-4ea7-a1e8-531d740ee519@googlegroups.com> On Monday, August 17, 2015 at 8:51:58 PM UTC-4, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >That does remind me of this reference I made to Jebidecimal Luthor(Hex Luthor's supposedly >even smarter brother) in the Cauliflowerminiseries..He's Free For Use if anyone needs a Jeb Bush >parody character.. >Arthur "Or is it Jebadecimal?" Spitzer I was wondering what the LNH version of Donald Trump would be, but Donald Trump is pretty much already the comic book parody supervillain version of Donald Trump. Adrian From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 17 21:04:38 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 21:04:38 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 Message-ID: <8B16D3C0-3EE9-4BE3-B5BB-C3E17489119D@earthlink.net> Adrian posted: >I was wondering what the LNH version of Donald Trump would be, but Donald Trump is >pretty much already the comic book parody supervillain version of Donald Trump. > >Adrian But the Looniverse version of Trump is probably being manipulated by Comb-Over Thing.. Arthur "The Comb-Over Elemental.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seiler at eilertech.com Tue Aug 18 17:59:18 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Tue, 18 Aug 2015 17:59:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #16 In-Reply-To: <666af2fd-ef5e-4ea7-a1e8-531d740ee519@googlegroups.com> References: <666af2fd-ef5e-4ea7-a1e8-531d740ee519@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/17/2015 8:49 PM, Adrian J. McClure wrote: > I was wondering what the LNH version of Donald Trump would be, but > Donald Trump is pretty much already the comic book parody supervillain > version of Donald Trump. The SW10 version of Donald Trump is President Donald Trump. I have a story in the works to remind people how scary that is. But for now, there's still that old 2011 story about 2014, http://www.eilertech.com/stories/2011/page.php?fn=2014.txt . -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 18 20:55:13 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 18 Aug 2015 20:55:13 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #19 Message-ID: <9E6793A4-E2F0-4C2E-9543-97A7FB32F763@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #19 Today's pick is the Digital JUMP! entry: An Andrew Perron series featuring the LNH Subgroup Without A Name.. http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Digital%20JUMP%21 Arthur "Without a without.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 18 20:59:15 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 18 Aug 2015 20:59:15 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! #3 Message-ID: Chapter by Michael Kelly creator of the LNH character Myk-El.. From: franke at ucs.indiana.edu (Jerry L Franke) Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 3 Date: 4 Nov 1995 04:19:04 GMT Chapter 3 in our retrospective of the rec.arts.comics Challenge! See Henry Broaddus' informational post elsewhere in this newsgroup for more info. =========================================================================== RAC CHALLENGE Chapter 3: Ducks and Delirium by Michael Kelly title by Daniel Warren ________________________________________________________________ Doctor Malevo stepped towards the powerless form of Paragon, the Ultimate Man, and squeezed the trigger of his pistol. Just then, he was struck in the back of the head with a rather large, rather pink, and not entirely unripe grapefruit. "Who dares interrupt the slaughter of my pathetic opponent?!" He snarled, turning to see his assailant. In the back of the warehouse he saw a young man in dressed in blue jeans and a leather jacket. Around his head was wrapped a red bandanna. In his left hand he held another grapefruit. "It doesn't seem like Paragon is the only one with a weakness for citrus fruit!" the newcomer laughed. Malevo aimed his pistol at the youth. "Dr. Malevo would know the name of his next victim. Answer me, child." The newcomer gave a toothy smile. "You can call me Tito, the Ultimate Kid!" "I hate that moniker. I hereby rechristen you 'Tito, the Ultimate Fool.'" Just then, a half ton of grapefruit fell on the mad doctor from above. "Nobody insults my kid brother but me!" cried a voice from the rafters. As a young woman, similar in appearance and dress to the first youth slid down a rope, she shouted: "Score another victory for Tina, the Ultimate Girl!" Tito rushed past his sister to the crumpled form of Paragon. "Jeez sis, quit hoggin' all the glory and come give me a hand. Paragon is in a bad way." Tina eyed the monstrous pile of grapefruit that concealed the body of Doctor Malevo. "That will teach you to tussle with The Ultimate Twins!" She moved to help her brother. "How is he?" Tito lifted Paragon's head. "He took one bullet in the chest. It looks like some grapefruit juice may have entered the wound. Hopefully, if what Malevo said was true, Paragon will develop an immunity to both the grapefruit and the bullet lodged in his chest." Tina was shocked. "If he lives that long, you mean." Tito nodded. Just then, Paragon stirred. "uhmilate mahbl" were the only words to pass through his lips. "What did he say?" asked Tina. "I think he wants us to carry him to the Ultimate-Mobile. Maybe there is something there that can save him." The twins struggled with the massive form of their hero, eventually half-dragging him to the Ultimate-Mobile. Fevered and confused, Paragon keyed in the entry code and fell inside his high-tech crimefighting weapon. Before the twins could climb in behind him, the door closed and the car sped off into the night. "Gosh, that was rude!" said Tito. "I don't know why you made me help you rescue such a loser." "Hey!", shouted Tina, "I thought he was your hero. Maybe he just respects his privacy? Anyway, I think we better get out of here before Malevo decides to eat us for breakfast." Inside the Ultimate-Mobile, Paragon faded in and out of consciousness. His thoughts became a confused jumble, a strange mixture of the events that transformed him from Dirk Darringer into Paragon, the Ultimate Man. The lights inside the U-mobile started spinning, and once again he found himself in the muted blue light of the arch-Wizard Tempo's forgotten lair on the Mount of Duck Lodge. Dirk was still wearing his parachute harness. The cows turned and asked him about all the forgotten birthdays. "What birthdays?" he asked. Hearing a strange buzz behind him, he turned to face it. Now wearing his Ultimate Man costume, he saw Tempo's broken body on the floor in front of him. A female voice cried to him. "The ghost is not yet ready." Then Darringer was in front of the Ultimate Collective, wearing his sensei's green robe. "Unworthy, but necessary" was the unified voice of the Collective. "In time, the hands will find their voice." The pain then returned to his chest. Malevo stood over him with a book and a red candle. "Quack!" Then, Paragon the Ultimate Man awoke. The U-mobile had dropped its only passenger off near Dirk Darringer's office at the Morning Herald. Somehow he found himself not in his Ultimate costume, but in the civilian clothes of his newspaper man identity. "What's the matter big boy", asked a familiar voice, "another late night on the town?" The sultry voice belonged to Myrna Maple, Dirk's constant foil on the Herald's sportswriting staff. "You know how it is Myrna, anything for a story." Myrna feigned looking hurt. "Well you can tell me all about it as you drive me to Barkington Plaza. Steinhoofer is going to make some big announcement." "No problem, but why don't we take your car." Darringer and Maple pulled up to the plaza just in time to see the owner of the local baseball franchise, Jorge Steinhoofer, step to the podium to start the press conference. Myrna was a little surprised. "I wonder what the big hurry is... usually Jorge is a little more relaxed at these things." Dirk's Ultimate Danger Sense tingled. "I don't know Myrna, but it looks like something exciting is going to happen." "Good morning everyone," started Steinhoofer. "As you know, my ball club has had a solid lock on last place in the division for almost a quarter of a century now. I think it is high time we did something about that. I talked it over with the rest of the club, and I've decided to replace our manager." The crowd began to mumble, and Myrna snorted. Steinhoofer continued. "I know what you're thinking, this is the eighth managerial change in three years, but I assure you, this time is going to be different. Dirk's Ultimate Sense was on fire. He looked around for the cause of his alarm, but couldn't see anything. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the new manager of the Dixon City Dodgers, Spurgo the Conquestor!" The crowd gasped as the seven-hundred foot tall massive hulk of evil stepped out from behind the Barkington Building. "Mortals. Spurgo the Conquestor has agreed to save your pathetic baseball team. This will only happen after Spurgo has enslaved your world. Prepare yourselves for the final glory that awaits the genetic insult you call... humanity." ________________________________________________________________ * Next issue: Chapter 4: Thrown Out Stealing by Jerry Franke ________________________________________________________________ "Paragon and Spurgo tussle while the fate of Dixon City hangs in the balance! Will it be up to the Ultimate Collective's previous failure, the Pen-Ultimate Man to save the day? And if Paragon should fall, who will be man enough to face The Ultimate Woman?! Come back next chapter, true-believers for these and other answers. You will be shocked!" Michael Kelly ========================================================================== -- Jerry L. Franke franke at cs.indiana.edu Computer Science Dept. Indiana University formerly from Florida State University http://www.cs.fsu.edu/~franke From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 19 09:43:47 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2015 09:43:47 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #19 In-Reply-To: <9E6793A4-E2F0-4C2E-9543-97A7FB32F763@earthlink.net> References: <9E6793A4-E2F0-4C2E-9543-97A7FB32F763@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/18/2015 11:55 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #19 > > Today's pick is the Digital JUMP! entry: > > An Andrew Perron series featuring the LNH Subgroup > Without A Name.. > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Digital%20JUMP%21 Heeheehee. Yeah, it's pretty basic, but I like it. <3 I really need to finish that first arc, huh. `-`; It's kind of been going since 2002. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, at this rate, I'm actually going to fall behind Limp-Asparagus Lad. From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 19 14:46:42 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2015 14:46:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! #3 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/18/2015 11:59 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Chapter by Michael Kelly creator of the LNH character > Myk-El.. Ah, yes. That was a whole weird situation itself. @.@ > The newcomer gave a toothy smile. "You can call me Tito, the Ultimate > Kid!" > > "I hate that moniker. I hereby rechristen you 'Tito, the Ultimate > Fool.'" Just then, a half ton of grapefruit fell on the mad doctor > from above. "Nobody insults my kid brother but me!" cried a voice > from the rafters. As a young woman, similar in appearance and dress > to the first youth slid down a rope, she shouted: "Score another > victory for Tina, the Ultimate Girl!" Srsly, "Kid" is a gender-neutral word, you can both be "Ultimate Kid". >:/ > Tina was shocked. "If he lives that long, you mean." Tito nodded. > Just then, Paragon stirred. "uhmilate mahbl" were the only words to > pass through his lips. "What did he say?" asked Tina. Of course! Ultimate Mable! Only the sparkliest stickers can save him n-- > "I think he wants us to carry him to the Ultimate-Mobile. Maybe there > is something there that can save him." Oh. Or that. > "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the new manager of the Dixon City > Dodgers, Spurgo the Conquestor!" > > The crowd gasped as the seven-hundred foot tall massive hulk of evil > stepped out from behind the Barkington Building. > > "Mortals. Spurgo the Conquestor has agreed to save your pathetic > baseball team. This will only happen after Spurgo has enslaved your > world. Prepare yourselves for the final glory that awaits the > genetic insult you call... humanity." Ahhhhh, I love Silver Age-y plot setups. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Spurg-oh-no! From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 19 17:33:58 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2015 17:33:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #20 Message-ID: <1B57866F-911E-4B2D-B1A4-F46104542EAF@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #20 Today's pick is the LNH20 entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/LNH20 An LNH imprint created during the 20th Anniversary of the LNH in the hopes of getting some new blood.. Arthur "Didn't quite work out.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 19 19:28:06 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2015 19:28:06 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #20 In-Reply-To: <1B57866F-911E-4B2D-B1A4-F46104542EAF@earthlink.net> References: <1B57866F-911E-4B2D-B1A4-F46104542EAF@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/19/2015 8:33 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #20 > > Today's pick is the LNH20 entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/LNH20 WOO! LNH20 = rad. > An LNH imprint created during the > 20th Anniversary of the LNH in the > hopes of getting some new blood.. > > Arthur "Didn't quite work out.." Spitzer It did for a bit, but that enthusiasm bubble kinda burst; part of it was the same behavior pattern that lead to JAC, part of it was interpersonal drama that had been building for years finally coming to a head. I'm slowly pulling myself out of that behavior pattern, and hopefully, a combination of good promotion and writing that tempts people to join in will be able to bring people back... Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, here's hoping. From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 19 19:41:32 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2015 19:41:32 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! Message-ID: Oh, my. Happy Bears (and their villain) actually were a concept I had in 1984. Now they're likely to take over Free Powernaut Comic Day 2016. http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#5 I actually did conceive of the Doom Bear in 1984, when Care Bears and the like were in fashion. I added Happy Bears as I put the Doom Bear in the first adventures of Ellipsis. When I put Ellipsis in a gaming campaign, the Doom Bear was an early opponent - and these were '90s heroes, so they tested the powers of Happy Bears also. When I needed guest stars for Powernaut 1985, Happy Bears were among them. (I'd actually planned "Li'l Trolls", until I remembered Happy Bears ever existed.) When I was challenged to write the Manly-Man 1984 comic, Happy Bears were a natural sequel. To explain what Happy Bears do for excitement, I practically *had* to mention the Doom Bear. So, the Doom Bear has come a long way to appear in a 1984 comic at last. So, he has some Wiki support... http://www.eilertech.com/stories/wiki/Doom_Bear.htm -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From darkeklaw at gmail.com Thu Aug 20 18:58:57 2015 From: darkeklaw at gmail.com (darkeklaw at gmail.com) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 18:58:57 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [CLERIC] Saber #9 In-Reply-To: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> References: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu> Message-ID: <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> On Wednesday, March 4, 1998 at 3:00:00 AM UTC-5, Merrill R Davis III wrote: > Cleric comics presents > > > > > Saber #9 > > Downward Spiral part 1 of 6 > Love Thyne Enemy > > > Eric thought to himself "I must be crazy to keep going > out with her I mean she's an Employee it doesn't look > right." He got dress in a suit and tie and grabbed his > tickets for the magic show. Tonight Gerald Morovian was > performing at the music hall and Eric was taking Nina out > to see it. They had been going on this way for the past few > months, ever since the Diner. Now the cold icy grip of > December's cold had taken hold of Cytervill, two months had > past since then. Eric was feeling like a school kid, and it was > reflected in his work as Saber, but Saber would not patrol > tonight. Tonight was a night for Eric to enjoy, have fun, and > be with one of the most beautiful women in the city. Eric headed > for the door and grabbed the keys to his Prowler. > > Nina sat and talked to her sister, "Why am I doing this I should > be looking for Saber, not dating my boss." Her sister Tana looked > back at her, she was in a long night shirt. "Listen Mr Morgan has > the Sphinx armor we need not pursue it any further, and we got to > keep the armor he let use use as payment. Besides, who knows > what info Eric has on Saber. Go out use him for that and then > dump him. No biggie." > "Yeah that is easy for you to say,"Nina returned "you haven't met > Eric. He is such a sweet man, the type of guy dad would approve > of." She smilled a little bit. > "Girl," Tana said "I do belive you are falling in Loooooove" She laughed > "Oh shut up" Nina smirked as there was a knock on the door. "Coming" > > Nina opened the door in her evening gown and Eric's Mouth dropped. > He was speechless, Nina looked amazing. He looked her over and > smiled. "What are you smiling about?" Nina asked him. > "Oh, only the fact that I know the most beautiful woman in the city." > "You are too kind, Eric" Nina said "I'm not all that beautiful" > >From in the room Tana said "Take the compliment and go see > your magic show already, You make me wanna hurl." > "Fine," Nina yelled back "But don't expect a doggie bag for that > comment." She then took Eric's Arm and the left. > > > The got to the show and sat in the Balcony next to the stage. > The magician came on and held up a small Ivory amulet. > "One thing before start." He said "Unlike Illusionists, I am a > real magician, the differance being I need the help of a Talisment > to tap into the powers of the universe. I got this Ivory Star from > my father. It allows me to use white magic. This type of magic > is healing and protective and allows me to perform most of > my tricks. And now on with the show. > > Three hours later . > > "I hope you all enjoyed the show, Thank you" The magician left > the stage and all the people cleared out. > > "That was enjoyable," Eric said "You hungry?" > "Famished" Nina replied "Lets get something good" > "Right, How about some. How about eating at the Chateau?" > Nina smiled "Isn't that the type of place you'd take a girl if you > wanted to.... "She trailed off giggling > "Only if you're a cad" Eric said "Besides that is all up to you, If > you want to do something we can." > "I'll keep it in mind" She said blushing. > >From the alley, Gerald Morovan yelled "Come back here thief." > "What the?" Eric said. "That's the Magician, come one lets see > what's happening." Eric lead Nina around the corner. When the got > there the say Stormshadow hovering high in the air, with the Ivory > Star in her hands "My employer wants what is his, and I am taking > it" Eric ran towards her, but Nina grabbed his arm. > "No, don't get involved" she said "She looks dangerous." > "But she is going to get away with that man's property" > "isn't that what the police are for? Nina asked and looked into > Eric's eyes, "Leave it be, it's not like you're Saber. What can you do?" > Eric looked back knowing that he was Saber, but he couldn't let > that fact out. "You're right we will help him call the cops and make > sure he is okay." Hearing that Nina smiled and hugged Eric. > > They made a statement to the police when they arrived and > then Eric dropped Nina home. "Thanks for the lovely evening > Eric. I had a great time" Nina said as she leaned in and started > to kiss Eric right on the lips, deep and Passionately, She then > pulled back and said "I will see you again?" > Eric looked at her and said "Anytime you want." > "Good," She smiled "Good night, Eric" > "Good night Nina" Eric said as he turned and left almost doing > cartwheels in the hallway. > > Nina walked in and looked at Tana "So, You got the Star I see." > "Yeah I did." Tana said "And I got our money too." Tana looked > at her sister "We have another job from Morgan." > "What is it this time?" Nina asked. > "He want us to kill your new Boyfriend." Tana said > "What," Nina exclaimed "NO way." > "Yeah way, don't worry. I told him no." Tana said "But he > is sending some others against him. And he told us if we > interferr We will suffer the same fate." > "That bastard" Nina said fuming and went to her room " > "I'll show him...." > > To be continued. You know It's been fifteen years since I wrote this and it's horrible. :( At least to what I know about writing now. I was a hack. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Thu Aug 20 19:41:15 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 19:41:15 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 Message-ID: <4ED91DFA-03A6-46AC-936B-BFBD05FCD87C@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 Today's pick is the Frat Boy entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Frat%20Boy Former Steak and Potatoes Man sidekick created by John "uplink" Scheibeler.. Arthur "Fake ID.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Thu Aug 20 19:54:34 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 19:54:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! Message-ID: <19009456-4E88-4172-B917-82C866725B2E@earthlink.net> Scott posted: >Oh, my. Happy Bears (and their villain) actually were a concept I had >in 1984. Now they're likely to take over Free Powernaut Comic Day 2016. > >http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#5 This strip seems to be very Happy Bear biased. I'd like to see the Doom Bear's side in all this. Could it be that he's just this tragic, misunderstood hero in all this trying to maintain a balance in the Happy/Unhappy Ecosphere? That without him the world would just become another happy bear addicted junkie? That all the people on this world would be so hopped up on happy bears that they wouldn't feel the need to eat or do other activities to sustain their lives? And would all waste away to extinction leaving a barren wasteland.. Arthur "Fair and Balanced.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mdfriedman at gmail.com Thu Aug 20 20:11:10 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 20:11:10 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 Message-ID: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> TALES OF FICTION presents... ==================================================================== THE TRUTH ABOUT FICTION ISSUE #7: "Trespass" Written by Michael D Friedman ==================================================================== PREVIOUSLY: Austin Allen has traveled to Fiction, Nevada to find out why the tabloid newspaper that he owns is reporting that his long-dead Mom and Dad are now alive. Along the way, he's met Jamal Runningbear, an ex-NBA star on a vision quest, with his spirit animal: a goldfish. Now at his deceased grandfather's estate, that same goldfish has decided to float in the air and speak to him. ==================================================================== "Don't go to the Mansion," I repeat to myself. "Why?" Stupid question. Doesn't matter. I'm going into the damn mansion. Glowy, which is what I've decided to call Jamal's goldfish, has decided to stop glowing and levitating. He plops back into the bowl in Jamal's hands. Jamal is completely passed out right now. He's of no use. I look back at the mansion's windows to see if I can make out the figure I thought I saw. The figure that I thought for a second was my dad. There's nothing there. I'm crazy. My dad is dead. Why am I here? I didn't have to drive 7 hours to the middle of nowhere to prove that my father is still dead. I said that I didn't want anything to do with _The World News Weekly_. I've sure come a long way to prove it. I definitely don't want anything to do with my grandfather's creepy cult, either. But here I am at the R. Joseph Allen Center for Perpetual Craziness, anyway. "Jamal," I say as I tap his shoulder repeatedly. "Wakey, wakey. We have to go to the Mansion." "Don't go to the Mansion," Jamal replies in an almost trance-like state. He's useless. Like I said. (Great, now I'm repeating myself. I HAVE gone crazy.) I get out of the car and tip-toe to the front door. There's absolutely no sign of life. There's not even crickets chirping in the background. It's eerily quiet. (Almost too quiet? Now I'm crazy and cliche.) I walk up the steps of the immaculate front porch. Granite lions snarl at me as if they were frozen in time. Pretty realistic looking. Enough to scare the crap out of me. What the hell am I afraid of? I mean, it's just my Grandpa Joe's place. I've been here before... I just have to open the door and-- It's locked. Of course, it's locked. Idiot. I start to head back to the car when I hear a creaking sound. I turn around and the door is slightly open. "Don't go to the Mansion," I repeat to myself. Screw it. Was never really good at taking directions, even from myself. *** I open the door and walk into the darkened room. Except it's not dark. I'm standing in a massive, brightly lit foyer. There are several people milling about, as if they were in a hotel lobby. Except these wackos are the Josephists. They are all bald, and they are all wearing the same style powder-blue track suits. Even the women are bald and have poor fashion sense. And they all call each other "Joe." Other than that, they seem to be carrying on fairly normal lives. Some Joes are reading the newspaper. There are a few Joes watching TV. There's a Joe vs Joe chess match that looks pretty entertaining. The normalcy is weird. Shouldn't they be sacrificing goats, or something cultish? There has to be something more. What was with all the ominous "Don't go to the Mansion" talk? And then I see it. I say it, because "it" looks a lot like my dad, but I know that "it" cannot possibly be my dad. Still, he definitely LOOKS like him. Hell, he could be his clone. "Dad?" I yell out, without thinking. "It" turns to look at me and then runs away, around the corner. I go to follow him, but that's when all the Joes notice who I am. "Austin Allen is here!" "It's Austin Allen!" "Our savior has arrived!" "OMGIcan'tbelieveit'sreallyAustinAllen!" I'm engulfed in a sea of mindless Joe drones. They all want to touch me, kiss me, feel me or bask in my presence. A few of them ask for my autograph. One of the female Joes asks me to sign her tits. This must be what it's like to be a rockstar. *** Speaking of rockstars, at this same exact moment, a rockstar was looking for me. Haley K. knocked on the door of my two-bedroom apartment back in Mission Valley. My roommate, Bubba answered the door in his underwear. To say he was embarrassed would be, well... it would be wrong. I don't think Bubba gets embarrassed. At all. "Yo girlie, you come to get some hot Asian lovin'?" "Is that a very small crayon in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?" Haley K. walked right past Bubba and his erection and plopped herself on the couch. She blew an enormous pink bubble with her gum and then inhaled it, snapping it as she chewed. "Why didn't your roommate come to my show?" she asked. "You mean like 3 months ago?" Bubba replied, trying to cover himself up awkwardly with a copy of _The World News Weekly_. "Yeah, so what? I mean, it's not like I just give--" Haley K. stopped and stared at the paper, making Bubba uncomfortable. "Stop looking at me, yo." The pop star wasn't looking at him, though. She was drawn to the picture of my "Mom" and "Dad." "We need to go," she said, pulling Bubba out the door in his undies. *** I'm not aware of any of Haley and Bubba's exploits right now, though. I'm too busy trying not to get suffocated by the waves of Joes coming at me from every direction. I try to bust through, but it's no use. If I get past one crazy, there's another right behind them. It's as if they are coming out of the woodwork now. Hell, they may be. There's no telling how many secret passages Grandpa Joe had built throughout his gigantic palace, or how many crazies are in his cult. The Joes start to get more and more aggressive with me. I'm about to start "throwing 'bows," as the rappers say. At least I think that's what they say. Bubba would know better than me. (For those of you not "hip" enough, I'll spell it out: I want to elbow somebody -- preferably in the face.) Finally, a loud voice comes from above: "STOP!" and then "NOW!" The Joes all stop. They look up above them, and I do the same. It's my "Mom." She's wearing an extravagant evening gown and holding a megaphone at the top of the balcony. "RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS!" She smiles at me, but not in the motherly way. It's a sly grin. "I have some business to discuss with our esteemed visitor." The Joes quietly mill about and retreat to the far corners of the mansion. I can hear their grumblings as they slither away: "Aw man!" My "Mom" walks down the stairs, slow and sexy -- a way that no mom should ever approach her son. It's just damn weird. And I've seen a lot of weird stuff tonight. "Welcome home, son," she says, giving me a hug. ==================================================================== (c) 2015 Michael D Friedman. From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 20 20:48:33 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 20:48:33 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 In-Reply-To: <4ED91DFA-03A6-46AC-936B-BFBD05FCD87C@earthlink.net> References: <4ED91DFA-03A6-46AC-936B-BFBD05FCD87C@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/20/2015 10:41 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 > > Today's pick is the Frat Boy entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Frat%20Boy Ah yes. This is one of the ones that's basically a straight port of their old LNH Roster page. It really needs the interesting stuff that's happened with him in the last ten years; the reveal of his bisexuality under Tom's pen, and the interesting ways he's been pushed as a foil to Easily-Discovered Man Lite under Rob's. Andrew "NO .SIG Man" "Juan" Perron, anyone interested in doing so? ``; From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 20 22:21:51 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 22:21:51 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [CLERIC] Saber #9 In-Reply-To: <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> References: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu> <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/20/2015 9:58 PM, darkeklaw at gmail.com wrote: >You know It's been fifteen years since I wrote this and it's horrible. :( At > least to what I know about writing now. I was a hack. Eh, don't worry about it. There are plenty of amazing writers here who wrote much worse stuff fifteen years ago. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, whose teenage writings were almost all on other newsgroups <.< >.> From mdfriedman at gmail.com Thu Aug 20 22:21:53 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Thu, 20 Aug 2015 22:21:53 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [CLERIC] Saber #9 In-Reply-To: <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> References: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu> <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <692f2f3a-f600-495b-aebb-e2b728902eb6@googlegroups.com> On Thursday, August 20, 2015 at 9:58:58 PM UTC-4, Merrill Davis wrote: > > You know It's been fifteen years since I wrote this and it's horrible. :( At least to what I know about writing now. I was a hack. Time to show us something new! You wouldn't be the first person to come back after a VERY extended break. :) - Mike. From joltcity at gmail.com Fri Aug 21 10:52:01 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 10:52:01 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [CLERIC] Saber #9 In-Reply-To: References: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu> <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <2ab6a5de-d6f4-456a-97da-fcf3ff4df6f1@googlegroups.com> On Friday, August 21, 2015 at 1:21:52 AM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/20/2015 9:58 PM, darkeklaw at gmail.com wrote: > > >You know It's been fifteen years since I wrote this and it's horrible. :( At > > least to what I know about writing now. I was a hack. > > Eh, don't worry about it. There are plenty of amazing writers here who wrote > much worse stuff fifteen years ago. <3 > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, whose teenage writings were almost all on > other newsgroups <.< >.> Heck, this is high art compared to what I was putting out fifteen years ago. :-) From mdfriedman at gmail.com Fri Aug 21 11:02:40 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 11:02:40 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction TEB #1: "The Road to Fiction" (Collects Issues 1-6) Message-ID: TALES OF FICTION presents... ==================================================================== THE TRUTH ABOUT FICTION: THE COLLECTED STORIES [TEB] VOLUME ONE: "The Road to Fiction" Written by Michael D Friedman ==================================================================== FORWARD: When I returned to rec.arts.comics.creative after a 13 year absence, I wanted to start fresh with a new series, not tied to anything in any of the established universes. So, I created Tales of Fiction, which I hope will become a larger shared storytelling universe. But for now, it's just this series, "The Truth About Fiction." The first six issues are collected here. There are more issues on the way, and hopefully it won't be 13 years before I complete Austin Allen's tale. For now, enjoy the ride on "The Road to Fiction." ==================================================================== CHAPTER ONE: "The Miseducation of Austin Allen" ==================================================================== Before I begin, I would like to assure you that everything I tell you is fact. Yes, I am Austin Allen. And yes, I am the son of the famous novelists Robert and Peggy Allen. And yes, I am the grandson of R. Joseph Allen, the "godfather of sci-fi," UFO hunter and general cult icon. But just because my entire family wrote fiction, that doesn't mean I have to. And I'm not going to. I'm dedicated to the truth. *** Right now, however, I'm pretty much regretting that choice as I sit across from Haley K, teen pop star and general airhead. I'm attempting to interview her for my school paper, _The Mission Valley Signal_, but I'm mainly watching her smack her gum vapidly as she "thinks." At least that's what she appears to be doing. I'm not sure she actually does think. I'm interviewing her at the sound check for her on-campus concert at Mission Valley College, where I'm finishing up my senior year as a journalism major. This story was assigned to me. I am not here by choice. I guess they wanted their best writer on the biggest news to hit our tiny suburban California school since... well, probably ever. For a moment, I contemplate how sad that statement is and forget what's happening... Oh yes, the interview. I'm waiting for Haley to stop twirling her bright pink hair with her finger and answer my question. This has been going on for several minutes now. "Well, I guess I'd have to say, like, they should try hard to look pretty. Because cute boys will only like you if you try to be pretty and stuff," she blurts out. So much for hard-hitting journalism. My question was, "How does it feel to be a role model to millions of young girls throughout the world?" Maybe I should take it down a notch. Clearly, I've been assailing her with a line of questioning meant only for politicians and theoretical physicists. "That was a tough question," she says, almost on cue. "Aren't you going to ask me about my boyfriend or my new line of perfume?" I break my pencil against my notepad in frustration. I decided to go into journalism so I could make a difference. I wanted to interview presidents and Nobel prize winners. Instead I'm gossiping with a pink-haired idiot. Maybe this is some sort of hazing ritual for graduating writers. My editor is a sick son-of-a-bitch... "Fine," I sigh, "how's your boyfriend?" "We broke up yesterday," she says, almost too happy about it. "You should, like, print that, or something. It'd be, like, an exclusive. You'll sell a ton of papers." "It's a student paper," I remind her. "Yeah?" "It's free." "I don't see how you guys are going to make a profit if you don't charge anything." "Thanks for the microeconomics lesson," I retort, realizing she probably won't get the joke. "Now I can skip Thursday's class." She giggles at me and smiles, clearly not understanding a word I'm saying. "You're funny," she says, brushing her hand up against mine. I think I'm being hit on by an international pop superstar. "Jonathon!" she yells, and suddenly a balding man wearing a black turtleneck and hipster glasses is standing beside us. He nods at me and smirks, almost like he knows something I don't. "Make sure Mr. Allen gets a backstage pass for tonight," she says, backing away slowly. "He's kind of cute..." I _am_ being hit on by an international pop superstar. She then turns and heads back to her dressing room in what can only be described as a skipping motion. "Yes, Miss Haley," Jonathon yells to her as he pulls a lanyard from his back pocket. He drapes it around my neck, as if he were presenting me with some sort of royal honor, and grins again. "You don't deserve it." He then walks away, leaving me by myself. "What just happened?" I think. I try to process it, but almost immediately, I get the call that will change my life forever. The caller ID says "UNKNOWN," which I wouldn't usually answer. But for some reason, this time, I do. "Hello?" I ask. "Austin, your grandfather is dead." *** Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of Nevada, a buffalo spontaneously implodes. This has nothing and everything to do with my story. ==================================================================== CHAPTER TWO: "Family Tree" ==================================================================== R. Joseph Allen was always an eccentric man. After gaining success for a series of twelve science fiction novels dubbed _The Planetary Wars_, he was the talk of the town, and that town was Hollywood. His novels were bestsellers and he optioned them to a major movie studio for even more money. Joe, as he was called by his friends, was rich beyond his wildest dreams. He bought a mansion in Malibu. He had a collection of 20 sports cars. He was dating beautiful actresses, a different one each night. One of those encounters produced my father, Robert Allen. Joe loved his son very much, but Robert's mother was more interested in heroin than her son. Joe raised Robert as a single father and taught him everything he knew about writing. Robert was a best-selling author by the age of 19 with his book, _The Mercury Chronicles_. At an industry party, Robert met children's author Peggy Weinstein, who was coming off her own best-selling release, _Marty the Mongoose Goes to Montreal_. Robert instantly fell in love. Peggy was the complete package -- smart, beautiful and funny. The two eloped five months later, much to Joe's dismay. Joe felt that Peggy was only in it for the money. According to Joe, the children's book market was not "fiscally solvent" and Peggy merely wanted to hitch her wagon to the rising Allen star. To prove a point, Joe cut Robert off financially soon after their marriage. The father and son grew apart and barely spoke. Grandpa Joe didn't know for three years that I was even born. He attempted to reconcile with my father at my fourth birthday party. It didn't go well. After a rather public argument, Joe had several drinks and decided to head to Las Vegas for the night, as he was wont to do. On the way, due to his inebriation, he took a wrong turn and ended up in the middle of the Nevada desert. That night, R. Joseph Allen, my grandfather, "officially" discovered the first alien life form on our planet. Or so he says. Most people prefer to think he imagined it, or worse, made it up. But Joe insisted to his dying day (which I guess is today) that it was true. According to my grandfather, the alien was wandering the desert alone when he came upon him in his car, almost hitting the tiny green man. As you can imagine, the fact that he was a "tiny green man" didn't really help his story, but that's how Joe described him -- about three feet tall with a large head, green skin and long fingers. This alien spoke to him in a language he could not understand, though it did try to communicate with him. My grandfather reached out to touch him and just as he did, a large light shined down from the sky, like a spotlight on himself and the alien. The next thing he knew, the alien was gone, and Joe passed out -- he says from the stress, but most people think it was from the alcohol. At either rate, he awoke the next day, alone in his car, in a Denny's parking lot about a mile from the Las Vegas strip. He drove home to Los Angeles as fast as he could. He held a press conference the next day to tell everybody what he saw. He went from the talk of the town to the city's biggest punchline. Nobody believed him. The press thought it was merely a publicity stunt for his latest novel, but Joe insisted that it was true. "This is Non-Fiction," he reiterated several times. For that, he earned the nickname "Fiction Joe" and jokes were made on the late-night talk shows about his alcohol and drug use. Joe was pissed. He knew what he saw was real, and he was determined to prove it. First, he quit drinking. He never had a drop of alcohol again. Then, over the course of a year, Joe sold off his palatial estate and almost all of his assets. He used the money to purchase nearly two hundred acres of land in the middle of the Mojave desert -- the place he encountered his alien friend. He packed all his remaining possessions into his 1964 Bentley Continental and drove to the desert, never to return to L.A. At first, Joe built a small shack to live in. Beside it, he built a massive antenna which he used to broadcast a radio signal into deep space, hoping to attract his alien friends once more. Every night he would sit in his shack, telling tales of our world, stories from his life and general philosophical musings to any alien life form that was waiting to hear it. It turns out, Joe had an audience. But it wasn't alien. He found plenty of followers from Las Vegas, about a hundred miles away. Lost causes, down to their last nickel, hoping to find proof of a higher cause, be it alien life or God himself. They found Joe instead. One by one, these lost souls made a pilgrimage to the Nevada desert. A small shanty town started to form, filled with "Josephists," as Joe's followers had dubbed themselves. Over the years, the shanties turned into actual buildings. Restaurants and businesses started to pop up. A town was born, and the citizens asked Joe to lead them. The first order of business was naming the town. Joe decided to name it Fiction, Nevada, as one last "screw you" to the elitist Hollywood snobs that made him an outcast. Joe eventually built himself a new mansion, a huge estate with every amenity you could image. But every night, he would sneak out to his tiny shack to broadcast his radio show to anybody that would listen. He did so until his dying day (which I guess is today...) "Your grandfather is dead," repeats the voice at the other end of the line. "I'm sorry," I answer, coming out of my daze, "who is this?" "I'm your grandfather's attorney, Simon Malkowicz," he says before pausing. "As your grandfather's only living relative, I have been asked to pass along his wishes to you. Can you meet me tomorrow at my offices?" "Sure, but where..." "A courier will come by your residence with the details," he says rather clinically. "Thank you for your time." The phone call ends. *** I return to my dorm on the other side of campus. I've been contemplating my grandfather's life the whole walk home. I didn't know him all that well. He didn't even take me in when my parents died. But in the moments we had, I knew that he cared for me and I cared for him. Still in a daze, I turn the key to the door, not realizing the commotion going on inside. "Dude!" yells my roommate, Bubba. He looks exactly like what you'd expect, if you were expecting him to be a five-foot tall Asian kid with a sideways baseball cap and adorned in hip-hop gear. Several of his friends are gathered around a laptop computer. My laptop, specifically. They are also specifically sitting on my bed and in my chair and on top of my pile of dirty laundry. "We didn't know you was famous, bro," Bubba continues, gesturing toward the screen. There I am, in all my paused glory, a 12-year-old kid, at the National Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C. "Where did you get this?" I ask. I certainly never kept a copy of it "I Googled you, bro," Bubba grins. "Found this on some website, we've been playing it over and over." I look at Bubba's giggling friends, barely able to hold back their joy at my humiliation. "Yo. Play it again, Reggie," Bubba commands his friend. Reggie hits the spacebar and the video resumes playing: "Chlorophyll. C-H-O-R-uh...I-R...uh...X-Z-Q." My 12-year-old self looks like he's about to spew Spaghetti-O's all over the camera. A bell rings, confirming what I already knew at the time, I was eliminated. My next words are bleeped out and my eyes roll back in my head. The kid-me falls straight backward as the announcer can only muster an "Oh my!" Bubba's friends howl in laughter, and I can't take it any longer. I snap the laptop out of Reggie's hands and yell, "Get out! Now!" I point to the door. The group all just kind of sit there staring at me as if they were deer in my headlights. We have been roommates for about nine months and Bubba has never seen this look on my face before. "Uh, yeah," he stutters. "Maybe y'all should leave. I'll meet you down at the basketball court. Cool?" He shuffles them out of the room and closes the door behind them. He stands over me as I sit down on my bed. "Sorry 'bout that. Don't let them get to you, bro," he attempts to apologize, somewhat. I guess. I just sit there and stare my shoes, hoping he goes away. "Yo dawg," he continues. "Is that a backstage pass to Haley K?" I hadn't thought about my "celebrity encounter" since the phone call. "Yes," I growl, about to lose my last nerve. "You gonna go? I thought you hated her. I mean, I'll take the pass off your hands if you don't want to--" I do lose my last nerve and yell something that would probably be bleeped out if this was on national television. "Oh my!" is all Bubba can say. And with that, he finally leaves the room. I lie down in my bed and shed a tear for my Grandpa Joe... *** There's a knock at the door in what only seems to be five minutes later. "Go away," I yell at the door. I wipe my eyes and look at the alarm clock. It's actually been three hours. Another knock. I stumble out of my bed and reach the door. I open it to see a man dressed in a chauffeur's outfit. He holds out his arm and shoves a business card in my face. The card is black with only an address printed in small white lettering. It reads "187 S. La Brea, Los Angeles, California" "Did you read it?" asks the chauffeur. "Yeah, I--" He cuts me off by stuffing the black card back in his interior coat pocket. "Be there at precisely 8 p.m.," he says. He turns to leave. "Wait." He does not wait. He walks down the stairs and out of sight. "How am I supposed to get to LA? I don't even own a car!" *** Don't worry, I'll get back to the imploding buffalo in a bit... ==================================================================== CHAPTER THREE: "The Will" ==================================================================== I step off the bus after a wonderfully draining two-hour bus ride at 7:50. I'm standing on a street corner in a not-so-great section of Los Angeles, by myself, looking for 187 S. La Brea Ave. There doesn't appear to be one. Across the street is an odd looking pink and teal building that reads "For Your Pleasure" in large blue block letters across the front. There doesn't appear to be a door until I see a rather large man in a ball gown walk out of the "O" in "Your." I decide not to go in there to ask directions. Instead, I walk into the art gallery next door. There is a slight woman at the counter. She looks about 60 and is dressed in a tight black dress. She was probably a model about 40 years ago, but right now, things are sagging in not quite the optimal direction. She gives me a wink and it looks like her very thick, fake eyelash is about to fall off. The gallery is filled with paintings of gophers, portraying historical figures from different time periods. I recognize George Washington Gopher crossing the Delaware and Napoleon Gophernaparte laying siege to Moscow. I'm kind of regretting not going into the Pleasure Pit instead. "Can I help you?" asks the old model, in a combination of English and Smoker's Cough. "Do you know where 187 South La Brea is?" "Alley, in the back." She points to the plain white back door with an exit sign flickering above it. "Really?" I ask. "You are looking for Malkowicz, Malkowicz & Malkowicz, right?" "I guess so," I say, heading toward the door. "Well, then, have fun sweety." Fun isn't exactly the term I would use when visiting a law firm, but that's fine. I open the door to reveal the back alley, which is about two feet wide. In fact, the door won't even open all the way. It gets wedged against the wall on the other side of the alley. I manage to squeeze through the doorway. The air smells like vomit, and I see a drunkard passed out in the gutter. He's sitting right next to a door with the numbers "187" written sloppily in spray paint. It suddenly occurs to me that "187" is the California police code for homicide. I know this because practically every one of the gangsta rappers Bubba listens to -- and he listens to a lot of gangsta rap -- mention it at least once an album. At this point, I'm regretting not just buying a gopher painting. I gently pull the handle on the "187" door and it opens with a loud creak. Light leaks out from the doorway, practically blinding me and obscuring my view of what's inside. I step in and my eyes adjust to the light. The door closes behind me. I'm in an opulent sitting room, decorated in all white. There are white columns that line the walls, with ornate white molding depicting eagles and snakes. They seem to be in some sort of eternal battle for command of the room, frozen in time. In front of me is a modern white desk. Everything on the desk is white. Behind it is a white desk chair and in front of it is a comfy white leather chair which looks big enough to sit two people. I take a seat. The white clock on the wall ticks 8 o'clock and a door opens from behind the desk. I hadn't noticed it before as it blended perfectly with the wall. Out walks the chauffeur from earlier in the day. He has a seat at the desk chair and begins writing in a notebook on the desk. This goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. I start to think that he doesn't even notice me sitting on the comfy white chair. That's practically impossible, since I'm wearing a blue jacket and blue jeans and the rest of the room is white. "Man, I wore a lot of blue today," I think to myself. "Maybe I should just say something. Should I just say something? I should say something. Okay, I'm gonna just say something." "Hello," I blurt out. The chauffeur looks up from his notebook and finally acknowledges my existence. He looks at the clock on the wall, which reads 8:04. He places his pen on the desk. "You're late," he says. I'm about to object when he cuts me off. "No matter. Mr. Malkowicz will see you know." He gestures to the door behind him. He gets back to writing in his notebook. I stand up. "So, I guess I should just..." The chauffeur does not acknowledge me, so I walk over to the door. I feel around for the hidden door handle and finally discover it. I open the door, and for some reason can't stop thinking that I'm going further and further down the rabbit hole. *** Surprisingly, things don't get much weirder. Instead I'm in a typical lawyer's office, complete with bookshelves of bound volumes stretching up to the ceiling. A large mahogany desk dominates the room, complete with the requisite lawyer's lamp illuminating the otherwise dimly lit office. Behind the desk sits Simon Malkowicz, my grandfather's lawyer. I met him once at a party in Las Vegas about 10 years ago. He doesn't look like he's aged a day. Which is good, because by my accounts he's easily 90 years old. He stands up and extends his hand to shake. "Austin," he addresses me. "Please have a seat." I shake his hand and sit down in front of him. "Big Haley K fan I see," he motions toward the backstage pass still dangling around my neck. "Sorry you had to miss the show." I had totally forgot I still had the lanyard. "No, it's okay." Simon starts singing Haley's big hit: "All girls like money/but I'm not your honey. Catchy tune." I am embarrassed for him. He slowly creaks back in his large leather desk chair, which slides backwards slowly to the point which he is too far away to reach the desk. He attempts to push himself forward with his feet, but cannot gain much traction. I get up from my seat. "Here, let me help you," I say and push his seat forward. "Thank you," he says to me with a large grin on his face. "It's rare to see much civility from your generation." I nod my head and grin back at him. "As you may know," he jumps right into things before I even have a chance to sit back down, "your grandfather hired me to be his representative in Los Angeles. He absolutely hated this town, but he felt it important that he keep track of things. Including you... He was very proud of you. At any rate, you probably want to know why I called you here today." "I'm assuming you are going to read my grandfather's will," I reply, sitting down. "Kind of," the old man says with a wink. He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a small metal orb. It looks like a prop from one of Grandpa Joe's _Planetary Wars_ movies. Simon attempts to lean across the desk to hand me the orb, but the desk is so large, he can only get about half way. I get up to grab it from him. I'm beginning to think I should just remain standing. "What is it?" I ask. As soon as I grab the orb, it starts to glow. A holographic projection emanates from the orb into the air in front of me. It's my grandfather. Well, a holographic image of him, at least. "Hello Austin," says holo-Joe. "Pretty cool tech, huh? Never thought I'd see the day, but it's reality. Anyway, I'm dead. Well, not right now, but if you are seeing this, it means I'm dead. Or at least I want people to think I'm dead... just kidding! Yeah, I'm really dead." Joe always did have an odd sense of humor. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I'm giving most of my possessions to the church. Those Josephites may be crazy sonsabitches, but they are loyal, so I figured I'd throw them a bone. I'm giving them the mansion. But I'm leaving you with so much more." "First, you get my Bentley," the hologram continues. "It should be parked outside by the time you leave Malkowicz's office." The hologram turns to Simon as if he's addressing him directly. "Don't let him lawyer you out of it! I mean it, Simon! I will not let this be another Nebraska!" Simon just looks at me and shrugs as if he has no idea what my grandfather is going on about. "Secondly, you get my radio shack," holo-Joe laughs. "Radio shack. Ha, never thought about that before. Get it?" "I got it," I say under my breath. "But most importantly, I know how much the truth means to you. I know you want to be a world-famous journalist someday. Well, grandson, that time is now. You are now owner, CEO and editor-in-chief of _The World News Weekly_, the top-selling publication in the world today!" I'm about to cry. It may be the most best-selling "newspaper" (I use the term loosely), but it's also the most ridiculous, featuring stories about Boy-Bat Creatures, Psychic Kittens and Bigfoot. Yeah, I'm going to be taken really seriously as a journalist... ==================================================================== CHAPTER FOUR: "Runningbear" ==================================================================== Okay, so it's been a few months since I was told that I was now CEO and editor-in-chief of the tabloid-iest tabloid that ever tabloid-ed. I haven't even been in to the offices. Heck, I haven't even been to the town of Fiction, Nevada, where they -- and my newly bequeathed radio shanty -- are located. Instead, I've graduated from college and I'm living off-campus in a Mission Valley apartment with my old on-campus roommate, Bubba. Life could be worse. Heck, I'm a multi-millionaire just on The WNW's profits alone. Not that I want any of the money. My attorney, Malkowicz, has been hounding me for weeks, asking me to check out the dump. But I've happily moved on to other pursuits. He can put away that money for a rainy day. Okay, maybe "happily" isn't the right choice of words. After all, none of the big newspapers will touch me, especially when they know my "connection" to my grandfather's rag. Not even _USA Today_, for Christ's sake! But I'm getting by... I'm editing for a living! The grammar! The glamor! Today's assignment is _Torpy The Torpedo_, a lovely children's tale about a poor submarine missile that gets lost at sea. Instead of blowing up U-Boats, Torpy makes friends with a tortoise and a starfish. He learns a valuable lesson that you can be anything you want to be, despite what others have planned for you I am Torpy. I'm just processing that thought when I'm interrupted by a large stack of newspapers crashing at my feet. "Yo, homey, you got more papes," says my eloquent roommate. "You gonna read 'em.?" "No, Bubba, stick them with the others." Bubba sighs and tosses them in what should be the breakfast nook. It's now basically The _WNW_ archives, Mission Valley branch. His heave manages to knock over a huge stack of papers. They come tumbling toward me like a wave of tabloid sadness. Two headed man horses trample UFO abductee amputee transsexuals in an avalanche of Princess baby photos... and then I see it. No, not it. I see ME. I see me and my parents on the cover of the May 12 issue: "AUTHOR ALLENS FOUND ALIVE! (SON REFUSES TO SPEAK)" I think I will be making a trip to Fiction after all. *** My parents are supposed to be dead. There was a tragic plane crash in the Alps in 2001 that nobody heard about because it happened the day after 9/11. I was seven at the time. I don't remember much about it, but I do remember that Jamal Wilkins, the backup center for the LA Clippers, announced his retirement the same day. The news was similarly ignored for much the same reason, and also because the Clippers sucked at the time. But I was a fan. What is remarkable about this otherwise side note in NBA history, is that Wilkins had just signed a new 5-year contract and was at the top of his game. He just decided to walk away from millions of dollars. He never said why, and nobody ever asked. I tell you this, not because my parents mean nothing to me, but because Jamal Wilkins is now right in front of me, sitting on the hood of a broken-down Cadillac, on a dirt road in the middle of the desert, holding a goldfish in a glass bowl. "Can I get a ride?" he asks. *** Luckily for Jamal, the Bentley that my grandfather left me is a convertible, otherwise I don't think his 7'1" frame would've fit. I had been driving along highway Interstate 15 toward Nevada for about two hours, my brain wandering and wondering about Fiction. What would the town be like? Had my granddad's crazy followers destroyed the mansion? Who would I kill when I made it to _The World News Weekly_ offices? I wasn't wondering about my parents, who were obviously still dead. I just wanted to know if this was some sick joke to try to get me out there. Well, if it was, it had worked. I was going to make sure heads would roll. I may just shut down the whole operation. The next thing I knew, however, I was off on a side road, in the middle of nowhere. And soon, that side road turned into a dirt road. I looked down at my gas gauge enough to be satisfied that I could turn around. And then I looked up. And there was Jamal. I slammed on the brakes, and he said hello. So, now we are back on the road. The real road, not the dirt one. I finally get up the nerve to ask, "So you're Jamal Wilkes, right?" "Runningbear," he replied. "Huh?" "I go by Runningbear now. Jamal Runningbear. It is the name given to me by my ancestors." I smirk at how ridiculous this sounds. "Don't laugh," he chides me. "I am 1/16th Xuatl Indian." "Sure, sure. Okay, I didn't mean to laugh." "You should respect all cultures, even those different from your own," he adds. He's right. Torpy would've known that. I sit silently for a second. There's an obvious elephant in the room. Actually, there's an obvious goldfish in the Bentley. I keep looking at it. There has to be a story there. Jamal notices my attention on the goldfish. "Does he speak to you?" he asks. "Who?" "The goldfish!" he says, gesturing wildly and almost spilling him. "I have been on the road for three days and he doesn't say anything to me!" "Oh yeah, he spoke to me," I chuckle. "What did he say?" "He said, 'Can you believe this guy is crazy enough to talk to goldfish?'" "He is my spirit animal!" Jamal spits forth in desperation. I can see that I have upset him, so I try to calm him down. "I'm sorry," I say. "You're right. I shouldn't mock other cultures. It's just... a goldfish?" I can't really help it. It seems so ridiculous. Even when I try to steer away from the topic, it's just sitting right there -- puckering at me. "You don't choose your spirit animal. It chooses you. I am on my vision quest." Uh, wait. Hold on. Vision quest? "Aren't you supposed to walk on a vision quest?" I say after my moment of befuddlement. "Like commune with nature or something? What were you doing in a Cadillac?" "Walking in the Mojave? Are you crazy?" Okay, so I'm the crazy one. *** We get to a small gas station-slash-diner by the time the sun starts to set. We're not even back to the Interstate yet, so I decide to take a break. "Do you want to get some food?" I ask. "Can't," Jamal replies. "Vision quest." His belly gurgles. "Says the man who drives a Caddy..." I walk into the diner. Jamal rolls his eyes, upset with himself. He gives up and follows me in, holding his goldfish bowl. The diner is retro-chic. It tries way too hard to remind you what the 50's might've been like. You know, the whole Route 66 thing. There's an old man sitting at the counter who looks like he could tell you all about it first hand. Besides him, the place is practically empty, except for two bald men in track suits, sitting next to each other in the corner booth. They both look at me with an odd stare. I quickly look away, as weird bald men usually don't lead to anything good. Jamal and I have a seat at the counter, and out walks a young, way-too-hip Hispanic hottie of a waitress. She's got beautiful green eyes, long black hair with a bit of a pink streak and lips that would make Angelina Jolie jealous. Her other assets are worth noting as well, but I'll leave the rest to the imagination. This isn't a harlequin romance novel. Let's just say, at the moment I see her, I think I'm in love. Seriously. She's that attractive. Her nametag says that she's called "Peliculas," but that can't possibly be her name. That's Spanish for "movies." I don't think anybody would name their child "Movies." The waitress walks up to us, "Howdy boys, my name's Peliculas. What can I get for ya?" Okay. Screw it. I don't know what to expect anymore. And as if to confirm this, the two weird bald men in the corner jump up from their booth and yell, "It is him! Joe, it is him! Behold, the grandson, our savior!" ==================================================================== CHAPTER FIVE: "A Cup of Joe" ==================================================================== "It is him! Joe, it is him! Behold, the grandson, our savior!" The two weird bald guys run up to me at the counter. They both stare at me with very weird grins. Like I said, these guys are WEIRD, man. They both have matching track suits and they both call each other Joe... way too often. "Joe, can you believe it?" says one. "I can't, Joe! What a glorious day," says the other. "Can I help you?" I ask, in that tone that usually means 'I don't want to be bothered.' They don't get the subtle vocal inflection. "Brother Joe and I can't believe it. Is it really, you?" "Are you Austin Allen?" "Yes," I sigh. And I get it. These are the "Josephists" I've heard so much about. They are a cult, plain and simple. And they worshipped my father as a god-like leader. I guess that makes me God, the Third. "You are. Joe, I told you it was him." "Yes you did, Brother Joe." Jamal slowly backs away from the situation. I guess things have finally gotten too weird for the ex-NBA superstar carrying a fish on his vision quest. Yeah, I'm the weird one. I'm starting to get a repetitive use injury from rolling my eyes so much. "Are you coming into town, Austin Allen?" "Will you come by the mansion, Austin Allen?" "Can you give a speech, Austin Allen?" "ENOUGH!!!" Oddly enough, that's not me. It's my lovely Peliculas, slamming a coffee pot on the counter so hard it shatters. "What I tell you about harassing my customers?" she yells. "A dozen pardons, Ms. Peliculas, we meant no harm," one of the Joes says, bowing incredulously like a scolded puppy. The two retreat to the door. "No more recruiting in my diner!" Peliculas yells. "Now git!" The two Joes hurriedly run out the door, while saying. "Please come by the Mansion, Austin Allen. We have many preparations to make anyway! Blessed be, Joe!" They both pile into a SmartCar and peel out of the parking lot. Well, as much as a SmartCar can "peel out." "Freakin' weirdos," says our waitress, calming down by stroking a stray hair from off her face. Her beautiful, gorgeous, lovely face... I start to daydream... *** "You gonna eat that?" I wake up from a bit of a daze, with Jamal hovering over my bacon. "Huh? No, I'm full," I reply. Peliculas gives me a smile across the counter. She leans over and pours me a new cup of coffee. "You're gonna need it," she says. "What?" "You've been kind of zoned out for the last few minutes," she smiles again. "The road will do that to you. Do you have a long way to go?" "Depends," I say. "How far away is Fiction?" Suddenly the smile drops from her face. "You don't want to go to that place." "Why not?" "Nothing good comes from that place," she says. "You saw those crazy men in here earlier, going on and on about Joe this and Joe that. Who the hell is this Joe person?" I'm kind of in love with the way she says "Joe." Somehow, she inserts and "h" and there and it comes out like "Jhoe." Crap, I'm getting distracted again. "It's all of them, I think," I take a sip of coffee. "Or, they are all one Joe or something. I can't remember." Jamal grabs a half eaten English muffin off my plate and starts tearing pieces off into the goldfish bowl. "You guys aren't one of them, is you?" Peliculas says as she begins to get a little bit more defensive. "No, no..." I try to calm the situation. Obviously, she's had some trouble with these guys in the past. More than just bugging customers at her restaurant. "So then, why do you go to Fiction?" "I, uh, sort of own the newspaper there?" I say meekly, waiting to get hit. "No way!" Peliculas is as giddy as a little schoolgirl now. "You own _The World News Weekly_?!" "Yeah," I grimace. "I love that paper!" Suddenly, Peliculas has become less attractive to me. *** So, there's this imploding buffalo that I mentioned a while back. At the time, I didn't realize it had happened. In fact, no human being on planet Earth realized that it had happened. Heck, the buffalo didn't even realize that it happened. That same buffalo was very aware of its existence when it reconstituted several months later, in the middle of Route 721, exactly halfway between Peliculas' diner and the town of Fiction, Nevada. This buffalo thought to itself, "Wow. That was odd. I wonder where I am? What are those lights in the distance? Why are they suddenly getting much brighter?" The buffalo wouldn't have to think about it much longer. Right before impact, he saw the SmartCar logo, then two bald men screaming as they flew through the window, and then nothing else... ==================================================================== CHAPTER SIX: "The Mansion or the Shanty" ==================================================================== After a 2-hour delay on Route 721, Jamal and I finally make it into the town of Fiction. I would figure out later that the reason for the delay was the death of Mark "Joe" Napoli and Carl "Joe" McIntosh, the two weird bald guys I met at Peliculas's diner. "Spontaneous buffalo emergeon" would eventually be labeled the cause of death. This would be the first of such instances, but not the last. At any rate, exhausted from the delay and with much of the town closed down for the night, I offer to let Jamal (and his goldfish) stay with me at "The Shanty." "The Shanty" is really the shack from which my grandfather broadcasted his radio shows. It's how he gained his immense following of "Josephists," the crazy followers of his "religion." When we finally arrive at the gate to the Allen estate, I'm amazed by the size of it. I had been to Grandpa Joe's mansion before, but in the years since, the grounds seemed to be more of a campus than a private residence. The main mansion still remained, but several other buildings must have "spontaneously emerged." There was the R. Joseph Allen Library of the Unknown, the R. Joseph Allen Museum of the Unknown and the R. Joseph Allen Cafeteria of the Unknown. As we pull up to the gate, a security guard -- a bald one in a track suit -- steps up and stops me. "What business do you have--?" he stops with his mouth agape. "I'm Austin Allen," I say after a short silence. "I'm here to stay at the Shanty." I wait for a response, but the guard is still an unresponsive gaping mouthhole. "I own the radio shack," I mention. "Get this man an RC car or a Tandy computer, stat!" jokes Jamal. Yeah, yeah, another Radio Shack joke. I get it. Very clever. I don't laugh. Neither does the guard, who's still staring at me. I snap my fingers, "excuse me? Hello?" The guard shakes his head, as if he was clearing out the dumbness. Forgive me... as Jamal said, I should be respectful of other cultures. He shakes his head, as if he was clearing out the stupidness. Better? "Of course, sir," says the guard. "I know all about you. Mr. Malkowicz said you'd be coming." Malkowicz? How did he know? "The Austin Allen Broadcast Center has been prepped for your arrival," the guard continued. I guess it's better than the Austin Allen Radio Shanty of the Unknown. The guard hands me two lanyards with our names on them, "Here are your badges. You can use them to get in the gate, and into the Broadcast Center. There's one for you and Mr. Runningbear." "Can we get one for the goldfish?" I try to joke. But then it occurs to me and apparently Jamal too. He gives me a weird look, like he's caught me in some lie. I know what he's thinking... How did the guard know his name? Heck, how did he even know there'd be two of us? What's with all these guys named Joe?" I shrug, because I'm asking the same questions. I look right back at him with the same weird look. "The Broadcast Center is just down the road, to the right, away from the Mansion." The guard lifts the gate with a manual crank. "Thank you," I say to the guard, with an awkward smile. "Don't go to the Mansion," the guard says ominously. "Ooookay," interrupts Jamal, "this is all just a little... what's the word? Sketchy. Yeah, sketchy." "What's in the Mansion?" I ask. "Yeah, what's in the Mansion?" agrees Jamal, nervously. "Nothing," says Guard-Joe. He smiles an ominous smile. "Can I just get a hotel?" asks Jamal. "No," I say and step on the gas. I head down the road and make a left. Toward the Mansion. *** Meanwhile, Peliculas, my waitress crush, was busy answering questions from two government officials, Agents Douglas and James. "Peliculas, huh?" says Douglas. "That's a weird name." "So is Douglas, for a lady," replies Peliculas. I guess I should note that the two agents were women. Jessica Douglas and Denise James, to be precise. They were both dressed in black suits with black fedoras. They claimed to be with the Dept of Homeland Security, but Peliculas knew better. She'd lived near Fiction long enough to know these two were part of "The Group." "The Group" always seemed to turn up whenever something weird happened. And something weird happened a lot in this area. You know, imploding buffaloes and all that... But "The Group" never seemed to actually investigate the weird instance. Instead, it seemed like it was their job to harass anybody in the general area, until they were so annoyed they forgot about the incident in the first place. "Do you have a green card, Peli-coo-lass?" asked James. "I was born here," says Peliculas, dismissively. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have customers." Peliculas motions to the old man sitting at the counter, the same one that was present when Jamal and I were there. "Old man Franklin?" Douglas laughs. "He need a 38th cup of coffee?" "He happens to be my best paying customer." Franklin coughs. A lot. Seems like he's going to choke and die on the spot. But then he stops, and takes a sip of coffee. "What do you know about Austin Allen?" says James. "Don't know him." "He was here about 2 hours ago," says Douglas. "Why are you protecting him?" "Protecting him from what?" "The dead Joes," Douglas yells out, before regaining her composure. "We know he did it." *** "Whaaaaaaaa?" That was Jamal's response when we pulled up to the Mansion. "What is it?" I ask, not looking at him. Instead, I was staring at my grandfather's mansion, the lights darkened. There seemed to be movement at the windows, but I couldn't make it out. "Whaaaaaaaa?" repeats Jamal. "Shhh," I say, turning off the engine. "I'm trying to listen." "I think we should GO," Jamal finally verbalizes himself. "Don't be a pussy." I feel a tug at my arm. "I think we should GO," Jamal repeats in a loud whisper. "What is wrong with you?" I finally respond,, exasperated. As I turn to berate my rather large friend, I believe I see my dead father out of the corner of my eye. It couldn't be? Could it? Doesn't matter. What I see when I look at Jamal does. Jamal's goldfish is floating in mid-air about a foot above his fishbowl. He's glowing a neon-green color and he's staring right at me. "Don't go to the Mansion," says the goldfish. And with that, Jamal faints. TO BE CONTINUED... ==================================================================== BONUS MATERIAL: The winner of High Concept Challenge #54... TORPY THE TORPEDO: A LI'L PLATINUM BOOK BOOK #2: "Torpy the Torpedo Discovers Atlantis" Written by Michael D Friedman ==================================================================== This is the second in a series of children's novels. The original book, "Torpy the Torpedo," was a best-seller and started a line of toys and an animated series. The publisher/toy company requested several sequels to the original book. This is the first sequel... ==================================================================== Torpy the Torpedo was swimming one day He ran into Sammy (the starfish) in the bay Sammy said, "How do you do?" Torpy replied, "I'm fine, how are you?" Sammy sighed and said, "I want to explore" Torpy said sure, "The ocean floor?" "I've explored the floor, but it's such a bore. Believe it or not, I want to see more!" Torpy put on his Torpy Adventure Goggles((tm)) "I have an exciting idea! I'm all a-boggle! We can search for Atlantis in the great big sea You will see more if you wear these, see?" Sammy said "yeah" and put on the eyewear He thought for a minute they shouldn't go there But then he thought more and said, "Why not? There's a legend of the Battle Sea Aquanaut ((tm))" "Battle Sea Aquanaut?" Torpy inquired. It's a big submarine from space that Sammy admired It has big flashing lights and a missile to fire And includes glow in the dark monster truck tires! Just then Tammy the Toirtose swam up She asked what was shaking by saying "wassup?" "We're going exploring!" said Torpy the Torpedo, "To find the lost city, isn't that neat-o?" The three finally found the ancient sunk city It was buried down deep, but still very pretty Oh! The sights they saw were to behold, The Atlantean Train Set((tm)) and the Dungeon Keep's Hold!((tm)) After their journey, the friends all went home To the place better known as the TorpedoDome((tm)) With it's huge storage size and bloops and beeps The three sea friends went fast to sleep THE END. ==================================================================== THIS ENTIRE COLLECTION: (c) 2015 Michael D Friedman. From mdfriedman at gmail.com Fri Aug 21 11:06:09 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 11:06:09 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: For those trying to catch up, I just posted a TEB that collects issues #1-6. I realize it's been awhile since the last issue. If you are new to the series, give the TEB a look-see before you read this issue. - Mike. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 21 13:29:27 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 13:29:27 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #22 Message-ID: <700E993B-98F9-49B5-AD9B-B61D75D1F2D6@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #22 Today's pick is the Echo Lad entry: ..Echo Lad entry.. http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Echo%20Lad The deceased sidekick of Pliable Lad ..Pliable Lad.. Created by Mike Escutia ..Escutia.. had this quirky way of speaking.. ..of speaking.. Arthur "Arthur Spitzer" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 21 13:36:34 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 13:36:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/19/2015 10:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > I actually did conceive of the Doom Bear in 1984, when Care Bears and the like > were in fashion. I added Happy Bears as I put the Doom Bear in the first > adventures of Ellipsis. Ahhhhhhhh, that makes sense. And I guess the other Doomnimals came out of that? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, bouncing here and there and everywhere~ From pwerdna at gmail.com Fri Aug 21 14:48:43 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 14:48:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #22 In-Reply-To: <700E993B-98F9-49B5-AD9B-B61D75D1F2D6@earthlink.net> References: <700E993B-98F9-49B5-AD9B-B61D75D1F2D6@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/21/2015 4:29 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #22 > > Today's pick is the Echo Lad entry: > ..Echo Lad entry.. > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Echo%20Lad > > The deceased sidekick of Pliable Lad > ..Pliable Lad.. > Created by Mike Escutia > ..Escutia.. > had this quirky way of speaking.. > ..of speaking.. Ah yes. I did a lot of work on this one while reading thru the entire Pliable Lad series. I'm always afraid of going *too* into detail when I do something like that. ^^; Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, never sure how many spoilers to put in. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 17:17:25 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 17:17:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/21/2015 1:36 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/19/2015 10:41 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > >> I actually did conceive of the Doom Bear in 1984, when Care Bears >> and the like were in fashion. I added Happy Bears as I put the Doom >> Bear in the first adventures of Ellipsis. > > Ahhhhhhhh, that makes sense. And I guess the other Doomnimals came out > of that? actually, no! I'd never envisioned more than the one. Meanwhile one Vaughn Gross invented the Doom Koala of Speed independently, before he even met me. When he submitted the Doom Koala in the Ellipsis-based campaign I was running, I said, "Okay, I have a place for that", to which he responded... "You do??" Coincidentally, Mary O'Hanrahan (first wearer of the "USIB" suits) joined the campaign at the same time, as did one mage who got assigned Wyatt Ferguson in his supporting cast. And that is how Wyatt first got into an Ellipsis story... Stuff like that made me so nostalgic for a shared universe, it got me posting to RACC a decade later! > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, bouncing here and there and everywhere~ Boingy boingy boingy! -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 17:25:31 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 17:25:31 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! In-Reply-To: <19009456-4E88-4172-B917-82C866725B2E@earthlink.net> References: <19009456-4E88-4172-B917-82C866725B2E@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/20/2015 7:54 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Scott posted: > >>Oh, my. Happy Bears (and their villain) actually were a concept I had >>in 1984. Now they're likely to take over Free Powernaut Comic Day 2016. >> >>http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#5 > > > This strip seems to be very Happy Bear biased. eh, well, it's my job to make the title characters look good. But I personally think the Doom Bear is way cooler. 8{D> > I'd like to > see the Doom Bear's side in all this. Could it be that he's > just this tragic, misunderstood hero in all this trying to > maintain a balance in the Happy/Unhappy Ecosphere? That without > him the world would just become another happy bear addicted junkie? > That all the people on this world would be so hopped up on happy > bears that they wouldn't feel the need to eat or do other activities > to sustain their lives? And would all waste away to extinction > leaving a barren wasteland.. Hmmm, couuuuuld be. The Doom Bear is coming back for Powernaut 1985, and he'll get his chance to explain why he likes doom so much. > Arthur "Fair and Balanced.." Spitzer -- (signed) Doom Scott 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- Doom solves *lots* of problems! - The Doom Bear. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 18:51:52 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 18:51:52 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [CLERIC] Saber #9 In-Reply-To: <2ab6a5de-d6f4-456a-97da-fcf3ff4df6f1@googlegroups.com> References: <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu>#1/1> <19980303192515.3157.qmail@windlord.stanford.edu> <81671da9-3055-476a-a01d-c27a13b3c09d@googlegroups.com> <2ab6a5de-d6f4-456a-97da-fcf3ff4df6f1@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/21/2015 10:52 AM, Tom Russell wrote: > On Friday, August 21, 2015 at 1:21:52 AM UTC-4, Andrew Perron wrote: >> On 8/20/2015 9:58 PM, darkeklaw at gmail.com wrote: >> >>> You know It's been fifteen years since I wrote this and it's >>> horrible. :( At least to what I know about writing now. I was a >>> hack. >> >> Eh, don't worry about it. There are plenty of amazing writers here >> who wrote much worse stuff fifteen years ago. <3 >> >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, whose teenage writings were >> almost all on other newsgroups <.< >.> > > Heck, this is high art compared to what I was putting out fifteen > years ago. :-) Oh, my... My own stuff from 15+ years ago is still out there, on eilertech.com because that's how old eilertech.com is! This page gets you closest to that time period, though I placed the stories around 1988 because I'd been writing them long before this modern Interwebs stuff... http://www.eilertech.com/stories/1988/ ! So I know about old stuff, Merrill. (1) I compliment you on your improvement on spelling and grammar in the modern age. (2) I admire anyone who makes up a story and then writes it down so they can build on it later. (3) This particular story seems like a good enough concept to build upon. I liked that dual-identity stuff on both sides of the relationship. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 19:00:18 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 19:00:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction TEB #1: "The Road to Fiction" (Collects Issues 1-6) In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/21/2015 11:02 AM, Michael D Friedman wrote: > FORWARD: When I returned to rec.arts.comics.creative after a 13 year > absence, I wanted to start fresh with a new series, not tied to anything > in any of the established universes. So, I created Tales of Fiction, > which I hope will become a larger shared storytelling universe. But for > now, it's just this series, "The Truth About Fiction." heh. I think I shall have a submission for you next week - something to do with a turtle! It will probably fit much better in your universe than in mine. Which makes sense, because it's your concept after all. > The first six > issues are collected here. There are more issues on the way, and > hopefully it won't be 13 years before I complete Austin Allen's tale. > For now, enjoy the ride on "The Road to Fiction." And it's worth reading just to see how the last issue ended. Now I have to go make sure I can read the next issue without taking time away from my awesome Internet commentary or the drawing of Powernaut-related comics. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 19:02:03 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 19:02:03 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 In-Reply-To: References: <4ED91DFA-03A6-46AC-936B-BFBD05FCD87C@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/20/2015 8:48 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/20/2015 10:41 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #21 >> >> Today's pick is the Frat Boy entry: >> >> http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Frat%20Boy > > Ah yes. This is one of the ones that's basically a straight port of > their old LNH Roster page. It really needs the interesting stuff that's > happened with him in the last ten years; the reveal of his bisexuality > under Tom's pen, and the interesting ways he's been pushed as a foil to > Easily-Discovered Man Lite under Rob's. > > Andrew "NO .SIG Man" "Juan" Perron, anyone interested in doing so? ``; ehh, I'm still getting past the concept that this guy can apparently create nachos and chicken wings out of the ether. *I'd* take him out to dinner with me. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Fri Aug 21 21:52:31 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Fri, 21 Aug 2015 21:52:31 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: I readed! On 8/20/2015 8:11 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: > Haley K. knocked on the door of my two-bedroom apartment back in > Mission Valley. My roommate, Bubba answered the door in his > underwear. To say he was embarrassed would be, well... it would be > wrong. I don't think Bubba gets embarrassed. At all. It was not obvious at first to me that this was a flashback. In the next Trade EtherBack, perhaps an edit is possible. Aside from that... You still got me following the story. No further comment. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 22 04:01:44 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 04:01:44 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/20/2015 11:11 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >Glowy, which is what I've decided to call Jamal's goldfish C'mon, you know his name is Binky. `-` >I look back at the mansion's windows to see if I can make out the figure I > thought I saw. The figure that I thought for a second was my dad. There's > nothing there. I'm crazy. My dad is dead. > > Why am I here? Well, if it makes you feel better, you can justify it by saying that you want to root out whoever would make a profit off claiming that your parents are alive. (if it helps you ignore the devil on your shoulder whispering impossible truths) > "Jamal," I say as I tap his shoulder repeatedly. "Wakey, wakey. We have to go to the Mansion." > > "Don't go to the Mansion," Jamal replies in an almost trance-like state. > > He's useless. Like I said. Uuuuuuugh you're just this constantly judgmental person >:/ >:/ >:/ >Other than that, they seem to be carrying on fairly normal lives. Some Joes > are reading the newspaper. There are a few Joes watching TV. There's a Joe vs > Joe chess match that looks pretty entertaining. > > The normalcy is weird. Shouldn't they be sacrificing goats, or something cultish? Man, if you don't start imagining other people complexly, *I*'m gonna reanimate your parents. >:/ (...what?) >My "Mom" walks down the stairs, slow and sexy -- a way that no mom should > ever approach her son. It's just damn weird. And I've seen a lot of weird > stuff tonight. > > "Welcome home, son," she says, giving me a hug. So, clone? Alien shapeshifter? Alternate-universe version? Spirit beings summoned by the faith of the Joes into physical simulacra of our esteemed main character's parents? Taking all bets! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, maybe they're living memes. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 22 10:55:04 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 10:55:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/WWW: Power-Star Comics 1984 #5: Happy Bears! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/21/2015 8:17 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/21/2015 1:36 PM, Andrew Perron wrote: >> Ahhhhhhhh, that makes sense. And I guess the other Doomnimals came out >> of that? > > actually, no! I'd never envisioned more than the one. Meanwhile one Vaughn > Gross invented the Doom Koala of Speed independently, before he even met me. > When he submitted the Doom Koala in the Ellipsis-based campaign I was running, I > said, "Okay, I have a place for that", to which he responded... "You do??" Hah! That's great. <3 > Coincidentally, Mary O'Hanrahan (first wearer of the "USIB" suits) joined the > campaign at the same time, as did one mage who got assigned Wyatt Ferguson in > his supporting cast. And that is how Wyatt first got into an Ellipsis story... > Stuff like that made me so nostalgic for a shared universe, it got me posting to > RACC a decade later! Heck yes. <3 People playing off each other is hella good times~ Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, interaction! From mdfriedman at gmail.com Sat Aug 22 11:32:42 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 11:32:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <4f5ebc55-ef9f-45ec-938e-4f83ede0b0b2@googlegroups.com> Actually, it was supposed to be happening at the same time, not a flashback. It's a little confusing because I switched to past tense for that section, basically because Austin is telling it from his point of view -- hearing it after the fact. I didn't read right to me when I wrote it in present tense, but maybe I should have. After all, I did the same thing with Peliculas in the previous issue. Basically, Austin is telling the story after the fact, which is how he knows things that aren't happening directly to him, but he's telling it on present tense. Just to make it ultra confusing I guess. (Thanks a lot Obama... I mean, Austin.) - Mike. From joltcity at gmail.com Sat Aug 22 16:03:27 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 16:03:27 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD/HCC: Journey Into # 23, "The Required Elements" Message-ID: _____ EIGHTFOLD PROUDLY PRESENTS _| |.-----.--.--.----.-----.-----.--.--. | || _ | | | _| | -__| | | |_______||_____|_____|__| |__|__|_____|___ | [8F-148] |_____| __ __ ______ ______ |__|.-----.| |_.-----. |__ |___ | | || || _| _ | # | __|___ | |__||__|__||____|_____| |______|______| "THE REQUIRED ELEMENTS" ~~A HIGH CONCEPT ADVENTURE~~ ~BY TOM RUSSELL~ It is not so much that Herb Hettinger pretended to be an only child, as that implies a kind of deliberate deceit quite alien to his character. Even if he were inclined toward such skullduggery, where would the profit be in pretending to be an only child? An orphan, perhaps, all alone in the world and completely abandoned, that will engender all sorts of sympathy, but only to a point; somewhere around twelve or thirteen, most people get rather tired of orphans and their sniffling and their big doe eyes. Herb tired of them rather sooner than most, and found himself in a spot of bother when he told off a particularly weepy four-year-old whose parents had perished in a freak umbrella accident. No, no adult would profit from pretending to be an orphan, for any innate sympathy would have sloughed off long ago. Nor would they profit from pretending to be bereft of siblings, for siblings are an endless font of inconvenience and injustice, sure to solicit immediate condolences from even the most jaded of passers-by: oh, you have two brothers?, and a sister?, oh, you poor thing, there-there. The loneliness of an only child seems a petty trifle compared to a lifetime of borrowed money, broken promises, and having to share. Not to mention that an only child, like an orphan, has to purchase significantly fewer gifts. (They also receive significantly fewer, but to be fair, siblings never get you what you really want, and it?s insufferable to have to pretend that you liked it when both of you know very well that you didn?t.) So, if Herb were the sort to connive and conspire at ginning-up the sympathetic glances of his peers, he would if anything have invented a whole score of sibling malefactors, rather than subtracting the one he had. Herb did not pretend his sister did not exist, nor was he unaware of her; it was more that he simply forgot about Rhonda, in the same way a person might forget temporarily about Liza Minelli or the Jacobite Rebellions, only to be reminded of them unexpectedly. (Rhonda, for her part, frequently forgot that Herb existed, though in her case it was more deliberate.) This tendency to mentally misplace his sister as if she was a wool knit cap left absent-mindedly on a chair in a guest bedroom was not due to any fault in her character, which was for the most part quite exemplary, if admittedly overly inclined toward kindness. It probably came down to the fact that Herb was six years old when Rhonda was born and that Rhonda was, at that time, an infant, and that Herb had never much liked children, even during the time when he himself was a child (arguably; he never conceded that he had ever been a child, and there existed no photographic evidence to the contrary). As a general rule, he ignored children, and often forgot they existed until one of them had the temerity to wipe its nose-grease on his cheek. Far from softening, this tendency had only calcified once Herb was put in charge of the Toddler Story-Time and Nap Jamboree at the Leon Czolgosz Memorial Library. Rhonda had gotten older and become an adult, but he hadn't taken much notice, for he was above all things a creature of habit and had already set into a general and quite unbreakable pattern of forgetting her. Rhonda Finlayson (though they were born to and raised by the same parents, she had always had a different last name; there was some reason for it that involved a rotary phone, but if he often forgot that she exists, one can hardly expect him to remember the reason!) for her part liked children very much, though just as a person might be fond of shoes and have no desire to be a cobbler, she possessed no great inclination toward having any of her own. Separately and secretly, both Rhonda and her brother had sworn never to share their living space with anything that needed assistance after voiding its bowels, which in Rhonda's case ruled out both babies and boyfriends, but left room for that most eminently sensible of God's creatures, felis catus. Rhonda's cat was named Diocletian, and though like all cats he possessed something of the regal greatness and the sense of destiny of that celebrated pagan, he did not share his namesake's inclination toward quartering his domain. His empire comprised all of Rhonda's apartment, and his imperium extended into every aspect of her life. For example, when she determined by accident that he much preferred whole milk to skim, she began to buy the former exclusively, despite the fact that it made her extremely nauseous. The ailurophiles among my readership will see this as the most natural thing in the world, while those who prefer dogs will think otherwise. The latter are entitled to their opinion. Their opinion is wrong, but they are certainly entitled to it. Consider: if Rhonda had a medium-sized dog, it would curl up more-or-less out of her way at the edge of her bed at night, much to her consternation. Whereas Diocletian, though being a very small cat, would stretch and splay across the bed in such a way that Rhonda would be forced to curl up more-or-less out of his way at the edge of her bed at night, much to her delight. And if you still can't see it, then there's no hope for you. Rhonda doted on Diocletian utterly, and as the convenience store in which she had worked (rather conveniently) had several expensive toys carefully engineered to promote feline happiness, health, and mental acuity, she often brought these home so that he could ignore them while he played with an old piece of cardboard for several hours. When Rhonda?s employment was terminated (rather inconveniently) due to some minor indiscretions involving her use of the broom closet, she was no longer able to supply him with things to ignore, and, it seemed to Rhonda, he noted their unforgiveable absence immediately. The reduction in income also resulted in Rhonda resorting, if only briefly and disastrously, to a significantly less prestigious brand of cat food. This, it became quite clear, was completely unacceptable, and in order to remedy the situation, Rhonda began to skip meals with alarming frequency, leaving her withdrawn and sickly: prone to headaches, prone to stomach aches, prone to feeling faint and, as a result of the latter, prone to being prone. In short, she had all the usual drawbacks one associates with starvation and malnutrition, including a general state of confusion and dulling of the wits, but none of the positives: that is, even when she went days without eating, she never seemed to lose any weight, a fact that made her exceptionally cross. (In one particularly egregious delirium, she declared herself Holy Roman Empress, and put her hips under the Imperial Ban.) Her generally unhealthy appearance, along with, one, several charming peculiarities of her character which she shared with her brother but which were perhaps acquired tastes, and two, certain unkind remarks about that broom closet, made it increasingly difficult for her to find new employment, which of course meant that she had to more frequently set aside her own dietary needs so as to better meet Diocletian?s, which then of course further exacerbated the qualities, both physical and temperamental, which made her job search so difficult. It was around this time that Rhonda, for the first time in a long time, decided to remember that she had a brother, and also to remember certain incidents in which, in her opinion, he had not acted with the requisite kindness due to one?s immediate relations, rather quite the opposite, and she came to the conclusion that the smallest token he could offer toward recompense would be to take her out for dinner for her birthday. Said anniversary was actually not for another six months, but she did not think he would remember this, and it likely would not surprise my reader over-much to learn that he did not, and so the next evening they went to the Chinese restaurant. The owners and staff of said restaurant were Italian in origin. Ethnographically, the northern extremities of Michigan?s Lower Peninsula are not well-known for dense populations of Chinese descent, indeed, they?re well-known only for not being particularly well-known for anything at all. Given the heritage of the ownership, the decor was predominately concerned with paintings of olive oil and photographs of Frank Sinatra, Alfredo Pacino, and other worthies, and not with fish tanks, dragons, and gongs. It didn?t really bother anyone in town that the decor was insufficiently Chinese, as the cuisine in Chinese restaurants generally bears no resemblance to the authentic article in the first place. The two siblings immediately intuited that the other didn't really have much to impart of any import, and each felt the burden of entertaining the other quite acutely. And so, in turn, each began to talk of their life, the up and downs, those ups being just rewards for their many virtues, and those downs being unjust maladies on a scale with those inflicted on some long-suffering saint, and met with the same deep humility. Occasionally, one would be interrupted by the other who would go on interminably about something or another, they didn't really pay much attention. As the evening pressed on, however, Herb began to detect a recurring theme in his sister?s bizarre, increasingly frequent, increasingly lengthy interruptions, elements that coalesced into something very much like a narrative, and though he didn?t really pay all that much attention to the details or incidents being related-- he was, after all, trying to remember where he left off, so that he might resume his engrossing librarianssaga when his sister?s unwelcome interregnum had concluded-- he was able to determine that there were considerably more downs than ups. This gave him cause for concern; he got the distinct impression that if her unhappy situation was not bettered that she would begin to depend upon her family (that is, upon Herb) to provide sustenance and/or financial assistance, or if neither of those, then at the very least emotional and moral support, which was infinitely more horrifying. It occurred to him that the surest way to prevent this would be to foist her off onto someone else, and since they were generally bereft of other close relations (at least, he could not remember any), he would need to find her a husband. ?So,? he said, clearing his throat magnificently, ?how?s the love life?? She glared at him horrifically. ?How?s the what?? ?I mean, any prospects? Settling down? You?re not getting any younger, you know.? He mumbled into a spoonful of fried rice: ?Quite the opposite, actually.? ?I?m approximately thirty,? she said a little icily. Herb then said something in response to this, but I am not quite sure of what precisely this was. Attempts to reconstruct it from the police reports afterwards were unsuccessful. While there were several witnesses to what happened next, none of them save Rhonda actually heard what her brother had said, and Rhonda herself plead the fifth on that point (and, oddly, only on that point; she was quite happy to describe the incident for which she was being charged in graphic and gleeful detail), while Herb, as a result of his injuries, while minor enough to result in his sister?s swift acquittal, was completely unable to recall much of anything about the evening other than the discovery that he wasn?t particularly partial to the duck. Whatever it was that her brother had said to well and truly earn his braining, it stayed with Rhonda throughout the night like a particularly irritating earworm. She had had her share of suitors, but they had all of them proven to be quite unsuitable. Some of them were the sort of fellow that becomes deliberately attracted to women they consider unattractive; this stratagem is meant to increase their odds of success, as it avoids competition from ?shallower? men, and the object of their affections, being quite unused to such attentions, will be so flattered as to overlook his own failings. Being fully confident in her own gorgeousness, she would have none of that nonsense, thank you very much. Other suitors suffered from some glaring defect, sometimes physiological and sometimes psychological. The most common instance of the latter were men who had the gall (quite unmitigated!) to hold an opinion contrary to her own, despite the fact that all of Rhonda?s opinions on all things were uniformly well-informed and completely correct, so much so that they could not really be considered opinions at all, but statements of clear and unassailable Fact. Rhonda had long ago decided that she was far too awesome for the men of Earth, who were themselves obviously insufficiently awesome and lacking in the required elements. She was pondering this the morning following her Chinese restaurant misadventure while waiting for her breakfast, reheated egg foo young, to cool, and wondering if she might not conspire to be abducted by aliens, sexy aliens, sexy aliens who did what they were told, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diocletian leap up onto the countertop where her egg foo young was cooling, then immediately leap down, them scamper off with something that looked suspiciously like her egg foo young in his mouth. By the time she caught up to him, Diocletian had eaten pretty much the entire thing, save for a rather long and gnarly bean sprout that had lodged itself between two of his back teeth, protruding from his mouth like some kind of mutant ingrown whisker. Diocletian seemed fully cognizant of its presence, and of the affront it posed to his poise, and was at present attempting to dislodge it with his tongue, without very much success. Rhonda quite naturally began to weep inconsolably at the indignity he suffered. She reached out with one trembling hand, intent on removing the offending sprout with a swift but gentle tug, but he would have none of it. Clearly, there was no other course of action but to seek professional medical help. Rhonda opened the door to his carrier and, as he always did, Diocletian immediately and calmly walked inside it and settled himself down so that Rhonda could close the door. Diocletian had no qualms about entering his carrier, and indeed would sometimes sit inside it for the better part of an hour, completely contented. Even when Rhonda picked up the carrier so as to convey him regally from one part of the apartment to another, he made no noise of protest, for indeed, what could be more natural than to survey his domains from the comfort of his lectica? But once they got to the car, he would become quite displeased, and express his displeasure via a panicked sort of yodeling. Once he would get to the animal hospital-- Rhonda always found the name misleading, as she expected it to be staffed by hamster surgeons and cockatoo nurses-- he would be quite himself again, all purrs and flops and scratch-my-tummies, but as soon as they started back home, he would launch right back into a terribly unkind if not entirely inaccurate impression of Mary Schneider. And then, right as they were arriving back safely home, just as the car was pulling into its designated parking space, he would void his bowels in the most horrific fashion imaginable. The smell made her eyes water, induced retching, and on at least one occasion caused her to lapse into unconsciousness, falling face first with unfortunate ramifications. Once, for a visit scheduled well in advance, she had deliberately and cruelly delayed his breakfast until after the appointment, and had waited until he had completed his morning toilet to depart, so as to prevent the dread occurrence upon their return, but he managed to draw on some hitherto unknown faecal reserve, completing his unholy unction with unexpected magnificence. Rhonda had long ago resigned herself to the fact that every time they consulted with the royal physicians that she would spend the better part of what was left of her morning decontaminating his carrier. En route to the animal hospital on this particular morning, it occurred to her that this was just the sort of task that one might delegate to a husband, if a husband was a thing one had, terrestrial or otherwise. Indeed, there were a great many things that she found irritating that were eminently husband territory: the picking out and changing of the box, the lifting of heavy objects, the live capture and release of hideous insects, paying for things. The more she thought about it-- or tried to; the yodeling was quite high-pitched and tremulous this morning-- the more she came to the conclusion that marrying an equal, that is, marrying someone that she could love or respect or even tolerate, was quite a recent invention and a wholly unrealistic one at that, especially for someone as unequaled as she, that way only led to disappointment, and that it made more sense to find someone, anyone really, anyone at all, who was at bare minimum gainfully employed and capable of properly sanitizing a liberally-splattered cat carrier. By the time Diocletian was admitted into the operating theater and the delicate sproutectomy was underway, Rhonda had decided that it would be to her advantage if she could be married within the next two weeks. She figured this would give her a good seven days to find a likely candidate, ten if she was pushing it, with the balance of the fortnight dedicated to allowing her chosen beau enough time to work up the courage to propose. There was no doubt that he, whoever he was, would be completely and utterly smitten with her, as she had not only her excellent character to recommend her, but also several skills that she honed to perfection within the confines of that broom closet. So deep in thought was she that when the surgical team left the theater so as to allow Rhonda to return Diocletian to his carrier, she quite forgot to open the door for him, instead scratching his chin absent-mindedly, and as a consequence when the door leading out of the room was opened, Diocletian made a bee-line for the lobby. This was disconcerting enough to jar Rhonda from her pensive mood, and she went after him in a panic, with complete disregard for her own safety, or more to the point, that of the nurse who had been standing in the doorway, the anxious nine-year-old who was on her way to see her miniature St. Bernard, the receptionist carrying two cups of coffee, or the technician who had the misfortune to be transporting stool and urine samples. They were not at all obliging or understanding as Rhonda knocked them prone and scrambled over them in a rough approximation of parkour. At last, she came to the lobby, and found Diocletian standing upon the back of a turtle, his nose high and pointed, the fur on his chest bristling and handsome, his tail swatting and thumping. Presently, the great one's tail stopped swatting and thumping as he lifted one of his forepaws and gently, almost tentatively, batted it atop the turtle's head. The turtle looked faintly bewildered, but it only took a second whack with Diocletian's big right paw for his erstwhile Bucephalus to get the point. Slowly, arduously, the turtle began to crawl forward. Diocletian swatted and thumped his tail anew in approval. It took a moment for Rhonda to perceive the turtle's human companion, a man of approximately thirty who had a habit of nervous blinking which was presently on grand display. He opened his mouth slightly, as if to say, excuse me, but I believe your cat is riding my turtle, and I would appreciate it very much if he wasn't doing that, uh, that is, unless you feel it would be better for him to keep doing that, that's fine, I'm sure my turtle doesn't mind as he is a turtle and not a cat after all and therefore being not a cat is probably dumb, probably all turtles are dumb because they're not cats, so never mind, sorry to have bothered you, gulp. But nothing came forth. He was clearly uncomfortable with his turtle's new lot in life, but did not seem to have it in him to actually say or do anything about it. Rhonda found this weakness to be utterly repulsive. "What kind of person are you," she reprimanded him, "to just let someone's cat ride around on your turtle? Why don't you say something?" "Well," he squeaked, "I don't know if it's causing any harm, and I didn't want to cause any sort of fuss..." "Don't want to cause a fuss!" she said, causing a fuss. "Don't want to cause a fuss! Who is going to stand up for your turtle, if not you, sir? He certainly can't stand up for himself. That's not the way it's supposed to be!" "You're quite right." "Of course I am." "I demand that you remove your cat from my turtle's person." "Demand! How dare you demand anything!" said Rhonda, taking umbrage. My readers might recall that when Rhonda's brother Herb Hettinger suffered any kind of indignity that he somehow became taller, and taller still, with an infinite capacity both for umbrage and tallness, and it will not surprise those readers to learn that Rhonda shared this curious biological quirk. It may, however, surprise you to learn that by a strange twist of fate, Simon Colman (for that was the man's name) suffered from the inverse, becoming shorter and shorter with each new abuse, until he almost disappeared like a collapsing star into a single, infinitesimally insignificant point in time and space. Regardless, the matter was resolved when Diocletian suddenly lost all interest in the turtle. With another fierce slap on the noggin he commanded the turtle to stop, and then scampered gingerly into his carrier. Taking three extra inches of umbrage for good measure, the now-statuesque Rhonda closed the door to the carrier and went for the door, quite "forgetting" to pay her bill. As she left, she heard the nurse call out into the waiting room: "We're ready to see Constantine now." Simon scooped up his turtle, tucking him under his arm and carrying him like a British general with a swagger stick, and then disappeared from view as the door closed. "Constantine!" said Rhonda breathlessly to Diocletian, as if to ask what the cat made of his fellow emperor. She had assumed that the turtle would have some stupid turtle-sounding name, or perhaps been named for a Renaissance painter, as was the fashion with turtles. But Constantine was something else altogether, a sign of intelligence and culture on behalf of the rather handsome if shy young man who was so considerate as to allow Diocletian a harmless little turtle-ride. With only a little bit of effort, Rhonda was able to determine that Simon was, in addition to being a successful trial lawyer with a lucrative practice, he was the coach of the boys' softball team, the Slaughterhouse Nine, sponsored of course by the local slaughterhouse. Quite naturally upon learning this she conspired to become coach of their distaff counterpart so as to meet him under less stressful circumstances. There was some difficulty in that the girls' softball team, the Blowouts, sponsored by a local tire shop, already had a coach, but this obstacle was quickly removed due to an unfortunate (and suspiciously timed) llama rampage. And readers who live near or around the environs under discussion will of course realize that all of the above was but a prologue to the infinitely more important and interesting story of the now-infamous First Annual Inter-Gender Softball Exhibition Game of 2010, better known as the Last Annual Inter-Gender Softball Exhibition Game, and sometimes, though quite inaccurately given the singular lack of serious injuries or fatalities, as the Sunday Softball Massacre. I have nothing of substance to add to the mountains of scholarship already existing in regards to those twenty-seven fateful hours, and so will not embarrass myself trying. I know that this is a little like talking about what Julius Caesar did on the fourteenth of March and then glossing over the Ides themselves, but such are my limits as a raconteur. At any rate, it was the first (and, due to judicial mandate, the only) softball game that was attended by Rhonda Colman (nee Finlayson), and I think we can all agree that that was for the best. COPYRIGHT (C) 2015 TOM RUSSELL. From joltcity at gmail.com Sat Aug 22 16:07:30 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 16:07:30 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD/HCC: Journey Into # 23, "The Required Elements" [reformat] Message-ID: _____ EIGHTFOLD PROUDLY PRESENTS _| |.-----.--.--.----.-----.-----.--.--. | || _ | | | _| | -__| | | |_______||_____|_____|__| |__|__|_____|___ | [8F-148] |_____| __ __ ______ ______ |__|.-----.| |_.-----. |__ |___ | | || || _| _ | # | __|___ | |__||__|__||____|_____| |______|______| "THE REQUIRED ELEMENTS" ~~A HIGH CONCEPT ADVENTURE~~ ~BY TOM RUSSELL~ It is not so much that Herb Hettinger pretended to be an only child, as that implies a kind of deliberate deceit quite alien to his character. Even if he were inclined toward such skullduggery, where would the profit be in pretending to be an only child? An orphan, perhaps, all alone in the world and completely abandoned, that will engender all sorts of sympathy, but only to a point; somewhere around twelve or thirteen, most people get rather tired of orphans and their sniffling and their big doe eyes. Herb tired of them rather sooner than most, and found himself in a spot of bother when he told off a particularly weepy four-year-old whose parents had perished in a freak umbrella accident. No, no adult would profit from pretending to be an orphan, for any innate sympathy would have sloughed off long ago. Nor would they profit from pretending to be bereft of siblings, for siblings are an endless font of inconvenience and injustice, sure to solicit immediate condolences from even the most jaded of passers-by: oh, you have two brothers?, and a sister?, oh, you poor thing, there-there. The loneliness of an only child seems a petty trifle compared to a lifetime of borrowed money, broken promises, and having to share. Not to mention that an only child, like an orphan, has to purchase significantly fewer gifts. (They also receive significantly fewer, but to be fair, siblings never get you what you really want, and it's insufferable to have to pretend that you liked it when both of you know very well that you didn't.) So, if Herb were the sort to connive and conspire at ginning-up the sympathetic glances of his peers, he would if anything have invented a whole score of sibling malefactors, rather than subtracting the one he had. Herb did not pretend his sister did not exist, nor was he unaware of her; it was more that he simply forgot about Rhonda, in the same way a person might forget temporarily about Liza Minelli or the Jacobite Rebellions, only to be reminded of them unexpectedly. (Rhonda, for her part, frequently forgot that Herb existed, though in her case it was more deliberate.) This tendency to mentally misplace his sister as if she was a wool knit cap left absent-mindedly on a chair in a guest bedroom was not due to any fault in her character, which was for the most part quite exemplary, if admittedly overly inclined toward kindness. It probably came down to the fact that Herb was six years old when Rhonda was born and that Rhonda was, at that time, an infant, and that Herb had never much liked children, even during the time when he himself was a child (arguably; he never conceded that he had ever been a child, and there existed no photographic evidence to the contrary). As a general rule, he ignored children, and often forgot they existed until one of them had the temerity to wipe its nose-grease on his cheek. Far from softening, this tendency had only calcified once Herb was put in charge of the Toddler Story-Time and Nap Jamboree at the Leon Czolgosz Memorial Library. Rhonda had gotten older and become an adult, but he hadn't taken much notice, for he was above all things a creature of habit and had already set into a general and quite unbreakable pattern of forgetting her. Rhonda Finlayson (though they were born to and raised by the same parents, she had always had a different last name; there was some reason for it that involved a rotary phone, but if he often forgot that she exists, one can hardly expect him to remember the reason!) for her part liked children very much, though just as a person might be fond of shoes and have no desire to be a cobbler, she possessed no great inclination toward having any of her own. Separately and secretly, both Rhonda and her brother had sworn never to share their living space with anything that needed assistance after voiding its bowels, which in Rhonda's case ruled out both babies and boyfriends, but left room for that most eminently sensible of God's creatures, felis catus. Rhonda's cat was named Diocletian, and though like all cats he possessed something of the regal greatness and the sense of destiny of that celebrated pagan, he did not share his namesake's inclination toward quartering his domain. His empire comprised all of Rhonda's apartment, and his imperium extended into every aspect of her life. For example, when she determined by accident that he much preferred whole milk to skim, she began to buy the former exclusively, despite the fact that it made her extremely nauseous. The ailurophiles among my readership will see this as the most natural thing in the world, while those who prefer dogs will think otherwise. The latter are entitled to their opinion. Their opinion is wrong, but they are certainly entitled to it. Consider: if Rhonda had a medium-sized dog, it would curl up more-or-less out of her way at the edge of her bed at night, much to her consternation. Whereas Diocletian, though being a very small cat, would stretch and splay across the bed in such a way that Rhonda would be forced to curl up more-or-less out of his way at the edge of her bed at night, much to her delight. And if you still can't see it, then there's no hope for you. Rhonda doted on Diocletian utterly, and as the convenience store in which she had worked (rather conveniently) had several expensive toys carefully engineered to promote feline happiness, health, and mental acuity, she often brought these home so that he could ignore them while he played with an old piece of cardboard for several hours. When Rhonda's employment was terminated (rather inconveniently) due to some minor indiscretions involving her use of the broom closet, she was no longer able to supply him with things to ignore, and, it seemed to Rhonda, he noted their unforgiveable absence immediately. The reduction in income also resulted in Rhonda resorting, if only briefly and disastrously, to a significantly less prestigious brand of cat food. This, it became quite clear, was completely unacceptable, and in order to remedy the situation, Rhonda began to skip meals with alarming frequency, leaving her withdrawn and sickly: prone to headaches, prone to stomach aches, prone to feeling faint and, as a result of the latter, prone to being prone. In short, she had all the usual drawbacks one associates with starvation and malnutrition, including a general state of confusion and dulling of the wits, but none of the positives: that is, even when she went days without eating, she never seemed to lose any weight, a fact that made her exceptionally cross. (In one particularly egregious delirium, she declared herself Holy Roman Empress, and put her hips under the Imperial Ban.) Her generally unhealthy appearance, along with, one, several charming peculiarities of her character which she shared with her brother but which were perhaps acquired tastes, and two, certain unkind remarks about that broom closet, made it increasingly difficult for her to find new employment, which of course meant that she had to more frequently set aside her own dietary needs so as to better meet Diocletian's, which then of course further exacerbated the qualities, both physical and temperamental, which made her job search so difficult. It was around this time that Rhonda, for the first time in a long time, decided to remember that she had a brother, and also to remember certain incidents in which, in her opinion, he had not acted with the requisite kindness due to one's immediate relations, rather quite the opposite, and she came to the conclusion that the smallest token he could offer toward recompense would be to take her out for dinner for her birthday. Said anniversary was actually not for another six months, but she did not think he would remember this, and it likely would not surprise my reader over-much to learn that he did not, and so the next evening they went to the Chinese restaurant. The owners and staff of said restaurant were Italian in origin. Ethnographically, the northern extremities of Michigan's Lower Peninsula are not well-known for dense populations of Chinese descent, indeed, they're well-known only for not being particularly well-known for anything at all. Given the heritage of the ownership, the decor was predominately concerned with paintings of olive oil and photographs of Frank Sinatra, Alfredo Pacino, and other worthies, and not with fish tanks, dragons, and gongs. It didn't really bother anyone in town that the decor was insufficiently Chinese, as the cuisine in Chinese restaurants generally bears no resemblance to the authentic article in the first place. The two siblings immediately intuited that the other didn't really have much to impart of any import, and each felt the burden of entertaining the other quite acutely. And so, in turn, each began to talk of their life, the up and downs, those ups being just rewards for their many virtues, and those downs being unjust maladies on a scale with those inflicted on some long-suffering saint, and met with the same deep humility. Occasionally, one would be interrupted by the other who would go on interminably about something or another, they didn't really pay much attention. As the evening pressed on, however, Herb began to detect a recurring theme in his sister's bizarre, increasingly frequent, increasingly lengthy interruptions, elements that coalesced into something very much like a narrative, and though he didn't really pay all that much attention to the details or incidents being related-- he was, after all, trying to remember where he left off, so that he might resume his engrossing librarianssaga when his sister's unwelcome interregnum had concluded-- he was able to determine that there were considerably more downs than ups. This gave him cause for concern; he got the distinct impression that if her unhappy situation was not bettered that she would begin to depend upon her family (that is, upon Herb) to provide sustenance and/or financial assistance, or if neither of those, then at the very least emotional and moral support, which was infinitely more horrifying. It occurred to him that the surest way to prevent this would be to foist her off onto someone else, and since they were generally bereft of other close relations (at least, he could not remember any), he would need to find her a husband. ?So,? he said, clearing his throat magnificently, ?how's the love life?? She glared at him horrifically. ?How's the what?? ?I mean, any prospects? Settling down? You're not getting any younger, you know.? He mumbled into a spoonful of fried rice: ?Quite the opposite, actually.? ?I'm approximately thirty,? she said a little icily. Herb then said something in response to this, but I am not quite sure of what precisely this was. Attempts to reconstruct it from the police reports afterwards were unsuccessful. While there were several witnesses to what happened next, none of them save Rhonda actually heard what her brother had said, and Rhonda herself plead the fifth on that point (and, oddly, only on that point; she was quite happy to describe the incident for which she was being charged in graphic and gleeful detail), while Herb, as a result of his injuries, while minor enough to result in his sister's swift acquittal, was completely unable to recall much of anything about the evening other than the discovery that he wasn't particularly partial to the duck. Whatever it was that her brother had said to well and truly earn his braining, it stayed with Rhonda throughout the night like a particularly irritating earworm. She had had her share of suitors, but they had all of them proven to be quite unsuitable. Some of them were the sort of fellow that becomes deliberately attracted to women they consider unattractive; this stratagem is meant to increase their odds of success, as it avoids competition from ?shallower? men, and the object of their affections, being quite unused to such attentions, will be so flattered as to overlook his own failings. Being fully confident in her own gorgeousness, she would have none of that nonsense, thank you very much. Other suitors suffered from some glaring defect, sometimes physiological and sometimes psychological. The most common instance of the latter were men who had the gall (quite unmitigated!) to hold an opinion contrary to her own, despite the fact that all of Rhonda's opinions on all things were uniformly well-informed and completely correct, so much so that they could not really be considered opinions at all, but statements of clear and unassailable Fact. Rhonda had long ago decided that she was far too awesome for the men of Earth, who were themselves obviously insufficiently awesome and lacking in the required elements. She was pondering this the morning following her Chinese restaurant misadventure while waiting for her breakfast, reheated egg foo young, to cool, and wondering if she might not conspire to be abducted by aliens, sexy aliens, sexy aliens who did what they were told, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diocletian leap up onto the countertop where her egg foo young was cooling, then immediately leap down, them scamper off with something that looked suspiciously like her egg foo young in his mouth. By the time she caught up to him, Diocletian had eaten pretty much the entire thing, save for a rather long and gnarly bean sprout that had lodged itself between two of his back teeth, protruding from his mouth like some kind of mutant ingrown whisker. Diocletian seemed fully cognizant of its presence, and of the affront it posed to his poise, and was at present attempting to dislodge it with his tongue, without very much success. Rhonda quite naturally began to weep inconsolably at the indignity he suffered. She reached out with one trembling hand, intent on removing the offending sprout with a swift but gentle tug, but he would have none of it. Clearly, there was no other course of action but to seek professional medical help. Rhonda opened the door to his carrier and, as he always did, Diocletian immediately and calmly walked inside it and settled himself down so that Rhonda could close the door. Diocletian had no qualms about entering his carrier, and indeed would sometimes sit inside it for the better part of an hour, completely contented. Even when Rhonda picked up the carrier so as to convey him regally from one part of the apartment to another, he made no noise of protest, for indeed, what could be more natural than to survey his domains from the comfort of his lectica? But once they got to the car, he would become quite displeased, and express his displeasure via a panicked sort of yodeling. Once he would get to the animal hospital-- Rhonda always found the name misleading, as she expected it to be staffed by hamster surgeons and cockatoo nurses-- he would be quite himself again, all purrs and flops and scratch-my-tummies, but as soon as they started back home, he would launch right back into a terribly unkind if not entirely inaccurate impression of Mary Schneider. And then, right as they were arriving back safely home, just as the car was pulling into its designated parking space, he would void his bowels in the most horrific fashion imaginable. The smell made her eyes water, induced retching, and on at least one occasion caused her to lapse into unconsciousness, falling face first with unfortunate ramifications. Once, for a visit scheduled well in advance, she had deliberately and cruelly delayed his breakfast until after the appointment, and had waited until he had completed his morning toilet to depart, so as to prevent the dread occurrence upon their return, but he managed to draw on some hitherto unknown faecal reserve, completing his unholy unction with unexpected magnificence. Rhonda had long ago resigned herself to the fact that every time they consulted with the royal physicians that she would spend the better part of what was left of her morning decontaminating his carrier. En route to the animal hospital on this particular morning, it occurred to her that this was just the sort of task that one might delegate to a husband, if a husband was a thing one had, terrestrial or otherwise. Indeed, there were a great many things that she found irritating that were eminently husband territory: the picking out and changing of the box, the lifting of heavy objects, the live capture and release of hideous insects, paying for things. The more she thought about it-- or tried to; the yodeling was quite high-pitched and tremulous this morning-- the more she came to the conclusion that marrying an equal, that is, marrying someone that she could love or respect or even tolerate, was quite a recent invention and a wholly unrealistic one at that, especially for someone as unequaled as she, that way only led to disappointment, and that it made more sense to find someone, anyone really, anyone at all, who was at bare minimum gainfully employed and capable of properly sanitizing a liberally-splattered cat carrier. By the time Diocletian was admitted into the operating theater and the delicate sproutectomy was underway, Rhonda had decided that it would be to her advantage if she could be married within the next two weeks. She figured this would give her a good seven days to find a likely candidate, ten if she was pushing it, with the balance of the fortnight dedicated to allowing her chosen beau enough time to work up the courage to propose. There was no doubt that he, whoever he was, would be completely and utterly smitten with her, as she had not only her excellent character to recommend her, but also several skills that she honed to perfection within the confines of that broom closet. So deep in thought was she that when the surgical team left the theater so as to allow Rhonda to return Diocletian to his carrier, she quite forgot to open the door for him, instead scratching his chin absent-mindedly, and as a consequence when the door leading out of the room was opened, Diocletian made a bee-line for the lobby. This was disconcerting enough to jar Rhonda from her pensive mood, and she went after him in a panic, with complete disregard for her own safety, or more to the point, that of the nurse who had been standing in the doorway, the anxious nine-year-old who was on her way to see her miniature St. Bernard, the receptionist carrying two cups of coffee, or the technician who had the misfortune to be transporting stool and urine samples. They were not at all obliging or understanding as Rhonda knocked them prone and scrambled over them in a rough approximation of parkour. At last, she came to the lobby, and found Diocletian standing upon the back of a turtle, his nose high and pointed, the fur on his chest bristling and handsome, his tail swatting and thumping. Presently, the great one's tail stopped swatting and thumping as he lifted one of his forepaws and gently, almost tentatively, batted it atop the turtle's head. The turtle looked faintly bewildered, but it only took a second whack with Diocletian's big right paw for his erstwhile Bucephalus to get the point. Slowly, arduously, the turtle began to crawl forward. Diocletian swatted and thumped his tail anew in approval. It took a moment for Rhonda to perceive the turtle's human companion, a man of approximately thirty who had a habit of nervous blinking which was presently on grand display. He opened his mouth slightly, as if to say, excuse me, but I believe your cat is riding my turtle, and I would appreciate it very much if he wasn't doing that, uh, that is, unless you feel it would be better for him to keep doing that, that's fine, I'm sure my turtle doesn't mind as he is a turtle and not a cat after all and therefore being not a cat is probably dumb, probably all turtles are dumb because they're not cats, so never mind, sorry to have bothered you, gulp. But nothing came forth. He was clearly uncomfortable with his turtle's new lot in life, but did not seem to have it in him to actually say or do anything about it. Rhonda found this weakness to be utterly repulsive. "What kind of person are you," she reprimanded him, "to just let someone's cat ride around on your turtle? Why don't you say something?" "Well," he squeaked, "I don't know if it's causing any harm, and I didn't want to cause any sort of fuss..." "Don't want to cause a fuss!" she said, causing a fuss. "Don't want to cause a fuss! Who is going to stand up for your turtle, if not you, sir? He certainly can't stand up for himself. That's not the way it's supposed to be!" "You're quite right." "Of course I am." "I demand that you remove your cat from my turtle's person." "Demand! How dare you demand anything!" said Rhonda, taking umbrage. My readers might recall that when Rhonda's brother Herb Hettinger suffered any kind of indignity that he somehow became taller, and taller still, with an infinite capacity both for umbrage and tallness, and it will not surprise those readers to learn that Rhonda shared this curious biological quirk. It may, however, surprise you to learn that by a strange twist of fate, Simon Colman (for that was the man's name) suffered from the inverse, becoming shorter and shorter with each new abuse, until he almost disappeared like a collapsing star into a single, infinitesimally insignificant point in time and space. Regardless, the matter was resolved when Diocletian suddenly lost all interest in the turtle. With another fierce slap on the noggin he commanded the turtle to stop, and then scampered gingerly into his carrier. Taking three extra inches of umbrage for good measure, the now-statuesque Rhonda closed the door to the carrier and went for the door, quite "forgetting" to pay her bill. As she left, she heard the nurse call out into the waiting room: "We're ready to see Constantine now." Simon scooped up his turtle, tucking him under his arm and carrying him like a British general with a swagger stick, and then disappeared from view as the door closed. "Constantine!" said Rhonda breathlessly to Diocletian, as if to ask what the cat made of his fellow emperor. She had assumed that the turtle would have some stupid turtle-sounding name, or perhaps been named for a Renaissance painter, as was the fashion with turtles. But Constantine was something else altogether, a sign of intelligence and culture on behalf of the rather handsome if shy young man who was so considerate as to allow Diocletian a harmless little turtle-ride. With only a little bit of effort, Rhonda was able to determine that Simon was, in addition to being a successful trial lawyer with a lucrative practice, he was the coach of the boys' softball team, the Slaughterhouse Nine, sponsored of course by the local slaughterhouse. Quite naturally upon learning this she conspired to become coach of their distaff counterpart so as to meet him under less stressful circumstances. There was some difficulty in that the girls' softball team, the Blowouts, sponsored by a local tire shop, already had a coach, but this obstacle was quickly removed due to an unfortunate (and suspiciously timed) llama rampage. And readers who live near or around the environs under discussion will of course realize that all of the above was but a prologue to the infinitely more important and interesting story of the now-infamous First Annual Inter-Gender Softball Exhibition Game of 2010, better known as the Last Annual Inter-Gender Softball Exhibition Game, and sometimes, though quite inaccurately given the singular lack of serious injuries or fatalities, as the Sunday Softball Massacre. I have nothing of substance to add to the mountains of scholarship already existing in regards to those twenty-seven fateful hours, and so will not embarrass myself trying. I know that this is a little like talking about what Julius Caesar did on the fourteenth of March and then glossing over the Ides themselves, but such are my limits as a raconteur. At any rate, it was the first (and, due to judicial mandate, the only) softball game that was attended by Rhonda Colman (nee Finlayson), and I think we can all agree that that was for the best. COPYRIGHT (C) 2015 TOM RUSSELL From mdfriedman at gmail.com Sun Aug 23 07:24:58 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 07:24:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD/HCC: Journey Into # 23, "The Required Elements" [reformat] In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <7ef23160-fbe8-446e-8b6c-1edfa39d00ba@googlegroups.com> I love the way this story is told. I kind of reminds me of "Everything Wil Be OK" by Don Hertzfeldt, in its tone and narrative style. Great job! Really enjoyed it. - Mike. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 23 08:32:23 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 08:32:23 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: <4f5ebc55-ef9f-45ec-938e-4f83ede0b0b2@googlegroups.com> References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> <4f5ebc55-ef9f-45ec-938e-4f83ede0b0b2@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/22/2015 2:32 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >Actually, it was supposed to be happening at the same time, not a flashback.. > It's a little confusing because I switched to past tense for that section, > basically because Austin is telling it from his point of view -- hearing it > after the fact. I didn't read right to me when I wrote it in present tense, > but maybe I should have. After all, I did the same thing with Peliculas in > the previous issue. For the record, I interpreted that section as intended. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, in terms of chronology, anyway From seiler at eilertech.com Sun Aug 23 15:41:00 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 15:41:00 -0700 (PDT) Subject: TOF: The Truth About Fiction #7 In-Reply-To: References: <6fbcf093-3656-45ff-85ad-fd8bdc2254f0@googlegroups.com> <4f5ebc55-ef9f-45ec-938e-4f83ede0b0b2@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/23/2015 8:32 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/22/2015 2:32 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: >> Actually, it was supposed to be happening at the same time, not a >> flashback.. > > It's a little confusing because I switched to past tense for that > section, > > basically because Austin is telling it from his point of view -- > hearing it > > after the fact. I didn't read right to me when I wrote it in present > tense, > > but maybe I should have. After all, I did the same thing with > Peliculas in > > the previous issue. > > For the record, I interpreted that section as intended. > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, in terms of chronology, anyway I'm willing to admit, I probably read it wrong. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sun Aug 23 20:52:45 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 20:52:45 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #23 Message-ID: <89E5DB16-AB5D-446D-A813-63054E598871@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #23 Today's pick is the Occultism Kid entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Occultism%20Kid The LNH's master mystic created by Josh Geurink (well, the current one -- the first one was by August Paul Yang).. Arthur "Abrakadabra.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 23 21:59:18 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2015 21:59:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #23 In-Reply-To: <89E5DB16-AB5D-446D-A813-63054E598871@earthlink.net> References: <89E5DB16-AB5D-446D-A813-63054E598871@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/23/2015 11:52 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #23 > > Today's pick is the Occultism Kid entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Occultism%20Kid > > The LNH's master mystic created by Josh Geurink > (well, the current one -- the first one was by > August Paul Yang).. Ah yes - apparently, the whole "apprentice of the original" thing was created because he was worried about adopting a WC and messing it up. (Also, I only recently got the pun in "The August One". Boooooo <3) Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, Occultism Squid From joltcity at gmail.com Mon Aug 24 02:12:55 2015 From: joltcity at gmail.com (Tom Russell) Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2015 02:12:55 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD/HCC: Journey Into # 23, "The Required Elements" [reformat] In-Reply-To: <7ef23160-fbe8-446e-8b6c-1edfa39d00ba@googlegroups.com> References: <7ef23160-fbe8-446e-8b6c-1edfa39d00ba@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <5e31da7b-8715-464d-a60a-1903f8e95eb0@googlegroups.com> On Sunday, August 23, 2015 at 10:24:58 AM UTC-4, Michael D Friedman wrote: > I love the way this story is told. I kind of reminds me of "Everything Wil Be OK" by Don Hertzfeldt, in its tone and narrative style. Great job! Really enjoyed it. > > - Mike. Thank you very kindly, Mike. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Mon Aug 24 20:37:30 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2015 20:37:30 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 Message-ID: <841094FB-80F4-4284-992D-F5A42AA97C71@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 Today's pick is the Beige Midnight entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige%20Midnight Okay. Picking an entry for a miniseries that I wrote (along with Saxon Brenton, Martin Phipps, and Rob Rogers) because, hey, there are only a limited amount of entries and I have to occasionally pick some of mine. :) Anyways, the last part of the whole Infinite Leadership -- Beige Countdown event.. Arthur "Death to Beige Midnight.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 24 21:54:22 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 24 Aug 2015 21:54:22 -0700 (PDT) Subject: 8FOLD/HCC: Journey Into # 23, "The Required Elements" [reformat] In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/22/2015 7:07 PM, Tom Russell wrote: > _____ EIGHTFOLD PROUDLY PRESENTS > _| |.-----.--.--.----.-----.-----.--.--. > | || _ | | | _| | -__| | | > |_______||_____|_____|__| |__|__|_____|___ | > [8F-148] |_____| > __ __ ______ ______ > |__|.-----.| |_.-----. |__ |___ | > | || || _| _ | # | __|___ | > |__||__|__||____|_____| |______|______| > "THE REQUIRED ELEMENTS" > ~~A HIGH CONCEPT ADVENTURE~~ > ~BY TOM RUSSELL~ > > > It is not so much that Herb Hettinger pretended to be an only child, > as that implies a kind of deliberate deceit quite alien to his > character. Ah! A return to the Leon Czolgosz! > An orphan, > perhaps, all alone in the world and completely abandoned, that will > engender all sorts of sympathy, but only to a point; somewhere around > twelve or thirteen, most people get rather tired of orphans and their > sniffling and their big doe eyes. That's about the time they start training to fight crime and become the best at everything. > Herb tired of them rather sooner > than most, and found himself in a spot of bother when he told off a > particularly weepy four-year-old whose parents had perished in a freak > umbrella accident. Why XD > Herb did not pretend his sister did not exist, nor was he unaware > of her; it was more that he simply forgot about Rhonda, in the same > way a person might forget temporarily about Liza Minelli or the > Jacobite Rebellions, only to be reminded of them unexpectedly. An entirely reasonable metaphor. >.>; > Rhonda Finlayson (though they were born to and raised by the same > parents, she had always had a different last name; there was some > reason for it that involved a rotary phone, but if he often forgot > that she exists, one can hardly expect him to remember the reason!) Oh yes, I forgot this part. XD > In short, she had all the > usual drawbacks one associates with starvation and malnutrition, > including a general state of confusion and dulling of the wits, but > none of the positives: that is, even when she went days without > eating, she never seemed to lose any weight, a fact that made her > exceptionally cross. *pulls out a bunch of really fascinating facts about weight loss, natural weight, health, etc.* > she came to the conclusion that the smallest > token he could offer toward recompense would be to take her out for > dinner for her birthday. Said anniversary was actually not for another > six months, but she did not think he would remember this, and it > likely would not surprise my reader over-much to learn that he did > not, and so the next evening they went to the Chinese restaurant. What a good brother, to take her out for her half-birthday. > Herb then said something in response to this, but I am not quite > sure of what precisely this was. Attempts to reconstruct it from the > police reports afterwards were unsuccessful. Heeheehee. > Rhonda quite naturally began to weep > inconsolably at the indignity he suffered. She reached out with one > trembling hand, intent on removing the offending sprout with a swift > but gentle tug, but he would have none of it. Clearly, there was no > other course of action but to seek professional medical help. This story isn't a garden path so much as it is a ramen noodle. > and that it > made more sense to find someone, anyone really, anyone at all, who was > at bare minimum gainfully employed and capable of properly sanitizing > a liberally-splattered cat carrier. That was a hell of a paragraph. @.@ > At any rate, it was the first (and, due to judicial mandate, the > only) softball game that was attended by Rhonda Colman (nee > Finlayson), and I think we can all agree that that was for the best. ...indeed! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, chewing this over. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 25 16:57:50 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 16:57:50 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #250 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Three Message-ID: <060AC9B3-6C9F-4CC0-A5AC-0B7AA070BB29@earthlink.net> More Chainsawrfs.. http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-three/ Arthur "Another strip.." Spitzer From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 25 17:04:42 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 17:04:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #25 Message-ID: <4BE12092-C990-43EB-A36D-FD48E4250C6A@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #25 Today's pick is the Squidman entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Squidman Originally a character called Squid Boy created by David Goldfarb before being revamped by Dave Van Domelen in the Constellation series.. Arthur "Holy Calamari!" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Tue Aug 25 17:08:39 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 17:08:39 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! #4 Message-ID: <064D6280-BE5E-425C-AAEA-2433A37E5B77@earthlink.net> Chapter Four by Jerry Franke.. From: franke at ucs.indiana.edu (Jerry L Franke) Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! Ch. 4 Date: 4 Nov 1995 16:25:20 GMT Chapter 4 of our rec.arts.comics Challenge! retrospective. See Henry Broaddus' informational post somewhere else in this newsgroup for more details. =========================================================================== RAC CHALLENGE Chapter 4: Thrown Out Stealing by Jerry Franke title by Michael Kelly _________________________________________________________________ THE STORY THUS FAR: Dirk Darringer, better known to the citizens of Dixon City as Paragon, the Ultimate Man!, barely escaped entombment by the evil Dr. Malevo. By negotiating with the arch-villain over the fate of Malevo's beloved Jas Rswert, Paragon was able to secure his release from the deathtrap, swearing to make him pay in the meantime. Discovering the fiend's secret lair, Paragon charged in to make his arrest, only to find himself in yet another dastardly trap. Rendered apparently powerless by the presence of grapefruit, our hero proved no match for the deadly bullets unleashed his way. Only the timely interference of Tito and Tina, the Ultimate Twins! saved him from certain death. The twins managed to carry the wounded Paragon to the Ultimate-Mobile, which suddenly sped off into the night. Dirk witnessed a nightmare collage of images, mostly from his past, then awoke healed and whole in front of the Morning Herald, where he works in his civilian identity as a mild mannered reporter. Now, after accompanying sportswriter Myrna Maple to an announcement of a new manager for the Dixon City Dodgers, Dirk finds himself in battle with Spurgo, the Conquestor in... THROWN OUT STEALING! thwang! thwang! It seemed no matter where Paragon pummeled the giant alien, all his blows simply bounced off the villain's incredible armor. Even worse, the behemoth seemed to grow larger with each blow. "This is not going well," he thought to himself. "This guy's just too tough. And I have to hold back or some of those people down there might be hurt seriously during the battle." Seven hundred feet below the fight, Myrna Maples was sticking a microrecorder in the face of a very incredulous and worried looking man. "Jorge Steinhoofer, how does it feel to be responsible for the city's imminent doom? Is Spurgo now on the managerial hotseat?" "I just don't understand," replied the team owner. "He's so big now, and what happened to his mustache...?" thwang! Paragon was beginning to tire, and he hadn't even made a dent in his opponent's armor. He'd better find a way to end this soon, or he wouldn't like the finale. As if reading his thoughts, the monster turned slightly and let loose a mighty backhand blow that sent Paragon crashing to the street. Dirk tried to get up, but lacked the strength to do so. His chest was on fire. He looked down to find... blood? The world began to cloud over. "But I thought I'd healed..." he thought. His senses had narrowed to a single, distant dot of light when he heard a reassuring voice say "Don't worry son, you're with us now." Then it was dark. _________________________________________________________________ It was a cold October day. The leaves had mostly fallen from the trees, leaving them bare to the chilly touch of winter. These were the times Merton Flagler relished. He took a sip from his coffee mug, then slowly breathed out, watching the wisps of mist climb from his lips. "If only it could always be like this," thought Merton, "all dead, calm, and quiet." "Dr. Flagler!" He started at the sudden interruption. He glanced over his shoulder and immediately regretted it. "Damn!" he thought. "It's those annoying Ultimate brats! I told Paragon to leave those two at home!" He paused, composed what he hoped was a sufficiently friendly expression, then turned back to face the interlopers. "What can I do for you kids?" he asked, in a hopefully satisfactory manner. "It's Paragon!" panted Tito as he came to an abrupt halt in front of the doctor. "He was shot by Dr. Malevo and we put him into the Ultimate-Mobile to take him to help but it suddenly took off without us and it shot straight up into the sky and..." "Hold it kid!" Merton shook the Ultimate Kid. "You've got to get a grip on yourself. Sure, Paragon may have been shot, but with all his powers I can't imagine what could be so seriou..." "But Dr. Flagler!" interrupted Tina. "We found this on the floor while we were leaving!" She presented a small, multi-colored orb. "So?" retorted Merton. "It's a superball. I had one when I was a kid." "But it's not a ball. Look." She handed it to him. It was very warm, and felt like polished stone. "And we've never seen Paragon without it. It's usually in the amulet attached to his cloak. We're worried about him, and we thought that DIOS could help." "Well, if it involves mysterious forces, then you did the right thing coming here to the Dixon Institute of Orthogonal Studies. Hm. Come on inside. I'll have one of the staff fix you some cocoa while I examine this thing." _________________________________________________________________ Dirk. Dirk Darringer. "Huh?" thought Dirk for the first time in hours. "Wha-?" Consciousness was slow in returning to him. Dirk Darringer. You must awaken now. The voices rattled in his head. It was so hard to concentrate. Some strong hands helped him up and smoothed down his clothes a bit. "You gonna be okay, kid?" The voice was familiar, but from where? He followed that thought back to full awareness. He knew instantly where he was. This was The Chamber, domicile of the Ultimate Collective. And the hands that held him were attached to a body that wore almost the same stylized costume as Dirk did. "Rex Reeves, the Pen-Ultimate Man?! What am I doing here?" "Well, kid, I..." Silence. When the masters speak, every sane man listens. The room was immediately quiet. Dirk Darringer, you are a failure. "If you're talking about the gunshot, I can explain. You never told me I was vulnerable in the presence of grapefruit..." That was a lie. We took your powers. "You did it?! But, why?" You have failed your teaching. You ransomed your life using a man's stolen possession. You bargained with evil. Your training and the sacrifices made for it have gone for naught. "Now look, it was a desperate situation. I didn't have a choice. I--" That is no excuse. You also allowed your token of power to escape you. Dirk looked down. They were right. The Ultimate Marble, from which he drew his power, was gone. "But I didn't--" Your excuses are irrelevant. You will be replaced. A door to the left slid silently open, revealing a small, muscular woman. "I am here to serve the good of the universe, masters," she stated in a calm voice. Good. You shall journey to earth to become their new guardian. "No! You can't do this! I'll...I'll..." Dirk stopped. You'll do what? "I'll..." he had a sudden inspiration. "I'll join a higher power! I'll remake the universe! I'll hold my breath! I'll... I'll... I'll bite off my hand! I'll...do something..." Dirk knew a losing situation. He let this last sentence trail off into nothing. The Collective ignored him. Go now, Mary Lu of earth. Go and become a Champion. White light bathed the area of The Chambers where the new Ultimate Woman stood, and soon she faded out of sight. Dirk swallowed his anger. He had trusted the masters this far. He must wait and see where they were going with all this. Surely they must understand the stories behind his recent mishaps. They must understand, or he must make them understand before it became too late. The Collective turned their attention to him. Dirk Darringer. You Have some old business to finish. Suddenly light bathed his section of The Chambers. He felt a tingling sensation across his entire body, and a slight buzzing tickled his ears. The room faded, to be replaced by another, even more barren than The Chambers. He sensed a presence to his right, and turned to face this other. He was not prepared for what he saw. "You?!" _________________________________________________________________ At almost the same moment, Merton Flagler was bent over a desk in the darkened stacks of the DIOS library, a lamp shining on a musty tome which lay open before him. He barely breathed as he hurriedly scribbled some notes. He glanced at the page, then glanced again. His breath caught. "I've got it!" he exclaimed, jumping up from the table and grabbing the Marble of Power. "I know the secret!" In all his excitement, he was quite unaware of the being behind him, fist upraised, holding a curved blade that gleamed slightly in the weak light. The hand reached its appropriate height, then danced forward and down in one smooth motion. _________________________________________________________________ * Next issue: Chapter 5: Into the Swamp, or How Can I Love You When You Killed Me Last Night? by Aaron Levitz _________________________________________________________________ Some notes from the author: Thanks should go to Mike Kelly for giving us that really nifty dream sequence to play with. As indicated here, Spurgo was just a continuation of that dream, but the images presented before it are playing an important part in the story now. Daniel Warren said it was o.k. to retcon the grapefruit thang, so there you go, Dan. 8^) Good luck to Aaron Levitz, who inherits more than one hero in peril. =========================================================================== -- Jerry L. Franke franke at cs.indiana.edu Computer Science Dept. Indiana University formerly from Florida State University http://www.cs.fsu.edu/~franke From mrfantastic7 at gmail.com Tue Aug 25 17:18:00 2015 From: mrfantastic7 at gmail.com (Adrian J. McClure) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 17:18:00 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! #4 In-Reply-To: <064D6280-BE5E-425C-AAEA-2433A37E5B77@earthlink.net> References: <064D6280-BE5E-425C-AAEA-2433A37E5B77@earthlink.net> Message-ID: Ah, I see we already got to the first "it was all just a dream" retcon of RACChallenge. There were multiple ones, as I recall. From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 25 17:52:50 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 17:52:50 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 In-Reply-To: <841094FB-80F4-4284-992D-F5A42AA97C71@earthlink.net> References: <841094FB-80F4-4284-992D-F5A42AA97C71@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/24/2015 11:37 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 > > Today's pick is the Beige Midnight entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige%20Midnight > > Okay. Picking an entry for a miniseries > that I wrote (along with Saxon Brenton, Martin > Phipps, and Rob Rogers) because, hey, there > are only a limited amount of entries and I > have to occasionally pick some of mine. :) And this is a good one to pick! <3 A big, important event for the LNH, which was well-written and really impressive. Arthur, d'you think you're going to fill in those last couple plot summaries? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, the whole Beige era was a lot of fun. From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 25 18:04:49 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 18:04:49 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #250 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Three In-Reply-To: <060AC9B3-6C9F-4CC0-A5AC-0B7AA070BB29@earthlink.net> References: <060AC9B3-6C9F-4CC0-A5AC-0B7AA070BB29@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/25/2015 7:57 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > More Chainsawrfs.. > > http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-three/ I really don't want to know how you sawrf a hula doll. o.o; Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, oh my sawrf From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 25 18:07:31 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 18:07:31 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #25 In-Reply-To: <4BE12092-C990-43EB-A36D-FD48E4250C6A@earthlink.net> References: <4BE12092-C990-43EB-A36D-FD48E4250C6A@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/25/2015 8:04 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #25 > > Today's pick is the Squidman entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Squidman > > Originally a character called Squid Boy created > by David Goldfarb before being revamped by > Dave Van Domelen in the Constellation series.. Oof. I should *probably* get off my butt and get back to my re-read of Dvandom Force - there's nothing on this page between the end of Secret Dvanders and Ex Post Facto, and nothing past that. `-`; Ah well. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, back to it From pwerdna at gmail.com Tue Aug 25 18:28:01 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 18:28:01 -0700 (PDT) Subject: REPOST: RAC Challenge! #4 In-Reply-To: <064D6280-BE5E-425C-AAEA-2433A37E5B77@earthlink.net> References: <064D6280-BE5E-425C-AAEA-2433A37E5B77@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/25/2015 8:08 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > "Jorge Steinhoofer, how does it feel to be responsible for the city's > imminent doom? Is Spurgo now on the managerial hotseat?" > > "I just don't understand," replied the team owner. "He's so big now, > and what happened to his mustache...?" That's great. XD > "But Dr. Flagler!" interrupted Tina. "We found this on the floor while > we were leaving!" She presented a small, multi-colored orb. > > "So?" retorted Merton. "It's a superball. I had one when I was a kid." > > "But it's not a ball. Look." She handed it to him. It was very warm, > and felt like polished stone. "And we've never seen Paragon without > it. It's usually in the amulet attached to his cloak. We're worried > about him, and we thought that DIOS could help." Yay worldbuilding! It's really building nicely on itself here, but though soon it'll start twisting into knots... > You have failed your teaching. You ransomed your life using a man's > stolen possession. You bargained with evil. Your training and the > sacrifices made for it have gone for naught. Oooooh. That's a pretty good point. > "I'll..." he had a sudden inspiration. "I'll join a higher power! I'll > remake the universe! I'll hold my breath! I'll... I'll... I'll bite > off my hand! I'll...do something..." Dirk knew a losing situation. He > let this last sentence trail off into nothing. > > The Collective ignored him. Go now, Mary Lu of earth. Go and become a > Champion. White light bathed the area of The Chambers where the new > Ultimate Woman stood, and soon she faded out of sight. And this is an excellent challenge to give to one's protagonist. > Some notes from the author: Thanks should go to Mike Kelly for giving > us that really nifty dream sequence to play with. As indicated here, > Spurgo was just a continuation of that dream, but the images presented > before it are playing an important part in the story now. Daniel > Warren said it was o.k. to retcon the grapefruit thang, so there you > go, Dan. 8^) These both seems like a reasonable level of retcon. We will see the level increase. u.u Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, increase the beast! From seiler at eilertech.com Tue Aug 25 18:32:04 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Tue, 25 Aug 2015 18:32:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #250 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Three In-Reply-To: <060AC9B3-6C9F-4CC0-A5AC-0B7AA070BB29@earthlink.net> References: <060AC9B3-6C9F-4CC0-A5AC-0B7AA070BB29@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/25/2015 4:57 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > More Chainsawrfs.. > > http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-three/ > > Arthur "Another strip.." Spitzer Well, you've established that the Chainsawrfs are not going to fall into the trap of "Build an Ideal World for Our Species"! There's probably an idea in there to get humanity out of its plot corners. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mdfriedman at gmail.com Wed Aug 26 12:04:11 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 12:04:11 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements In-Reply-To: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: The deadline has been extended until 9/4. (Sorry if this is a double post. Didn't see my other one show up.) - Mike. From mdfriedman at gmail.com Wed Aug 26 17:04:34 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 17:04:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC: HCC #55: Required Elements [DEADLINE EXTENSION!] In-Reply-To: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> References: <8dde7d61-c620-483d-bee7-6b62ac5d1a89@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <861710a1-e941-4876-b2c9-64c917b76a67@googlegroups.com> On Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 12:14:56 PM UTC-4, Michael D Friedman wrote: > Anyway, here are the required elements: > > PROP: A rotary telephone > LINE OF DIALOGUE: "That's not the way it's supposed to be." > CHARACTER: Ron or Rhonda Finlayson, convenience store clerk > ANIMAL: A turtle > LOCATION: A baseball field > > Have fun with it... I'm giving you until 8/26, because why not? Due to some requests, I am moving the deadline out one more week, until Friday 9/4. Still plenty of time to join in the fun! From seiler at eilertech.com Wed Aug 26 17:32:05 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 17:32:05 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! Message-ID: Carefully guest-crafted by Tom Russell to draw you in and engage you for a good long read of a good short story... Just Kidding! Speedily crafted by *me* to entertain you for thirty seconds! http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#6 ... Yes, you read those headers right. This comic was published in SW10 in 1984, but that sure looks like a Spirit-Guide-Turtle from Tales of Fiction! That beats most of the explanations SW10 could give him, except maybe Junior Doom Turtle. This comes from the "Required Elements" High Concept Challenge. I have edited the character name and the line of dialog to meet Powernaut standards of brevity, but otherwise the plot elements practically wrote a 1984 Power-Star Comic by themselves. The 1984 TV series "Punky Brewster" and "Going Bananas" (featuring the family-fun super-monkey Roxana Banana) took this concept the rest of the way. I declare the game to be sandlot baseball, probably in Detroit! But this Turtle is not going to appear in Powernaut 1985... He's too smart to be sucked into a superhero fight, when his friends' lives need his help. Heh. Indeed, I don't see him fitting in my universe at all. Yes, he *can* fit... but if he stayed, he'd be revealed as an alien experiment or a Doom Creature or an armored envoy from Earth-Draconis or something. And I'm not prepared for the inevitable 1990s world-domination battle between Ellipsis and the United States *and* Tommy the Turtle. So, since this isn't my concept anyway, I hereby grant *exclusive* publication of "Saved by the Turtle" and its characters back to Michael D. Friedman! If he accepts, perhaps he may make Tommy the Turtle available for shared fiction. (ref: "The Truth About Fiction") The Turtle does give me a chance to reveal something else about 1980s comics, though... They weren't always cool. For instance, Richie Rich made it onto television then. Harvey Comics was so proud, they didn't just say "NBC", they published the call-letters of every television station which played him - right down to WLW-I (sic), Indianapolis! Heh. Hence, my "Soon on TV" graphic. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 26 20:11:07 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 20:11:07 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 Message-ID: <53A56BCE-31E9-4343-B484-92B0C8776CAA@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 Today's pick is the Color Error Man entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Color%20Error%20Man Color-Error Man (created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes) is a member of the Brotherhood of Net.Villains and his name says what his powers are.. Arthur "Oh yeah. And he has a brother-in-law.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 26 20:16:15 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 20:16:15 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #250 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Three Message-ID: Andrew posted: >On 8/25/2015 7:57 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >> More Chainsawrfs.. >> >> http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-three/ > >I really don't want to know how you sawrf a hula doll. o.o; > >Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, oh my sawrf I'm sure there's a Clockwork Smurf fanfiction some where on the Net that answers that.. Arthur "Not that I would know.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Wed Aug 26 20:19:18 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 20:19:18 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 Message-ID: <08FEE0D4-4744-472F-B7A5-11E21C2D3AFB@earthlink.net> Andrew posted: >And this is a good one to pick! <3 A big, important event for the LNH, which was >well-written and really impressive. Arthur, d'you think you're going to fill in >those last couple plot summaries? For some reason I thought I did.. but I suppose I should do that someday. Also need to fix some of those links. Doesn't look like Lalo's archive exists anymore.. Arthur "Beige Procrastination.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From mdfriedman at gmail.com Wed Aug 26 21:31:43 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 21:31:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <832ff2c8-7783-4be2-aeb7-cda549cdc6c6@googlegroups.com> Love the "think" lines. :) ...And so the challengee becomes the challenger. I shall have to think of a way to incorporate Mr. Turtle into the TOF world From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 26 22:51:35 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 22:51:35 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #24 In-Reply-To: <08FEE0D4-4744-472F-B7A5-11E21C2D3AFB@earthlink.net> References: <08FEE0D4-4744-472F-B7A5-11E21C2D3AFB@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 11:19 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Also need to fix some of those links. Doesn't look like Lalo's archive > exists anymore.. That's true! I've already updated the ILC links. I've been thinking of making a where-the-Eyrie-archive-leaves-off archive for a while; maybe once I finish this web course... Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, maybe when Thunderbird unfreezes From pwerdna at gmail.com Wed Aug 26 23:45:11 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Wed, 26 Aug 2015 23:45:11 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 In-Reply-To: <53A56BCE-31E9-4343-B484-92B0C8776CAA@earthlink.net> References: <53A56BCE-31E9-4343-B484-92B0C8776CAA@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 11:11 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 > > Today's pick is the Color Error Man entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Color%20Error%20Man > > Color-Error Man (created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes) > is a member of the Brotherhood of Net.Villains > and his name says what his powers are.. Despite the advent of computer coloring (and the later advent of computer coloring that didn't rely on super-flat blocks of color and weird gradients), color errors are still with us. Color-Error Man represents our very humanity. > Arthur "Oh yeah. And he has a brother-in-law.." Spitzer Color-Error Man's Brother-In-Law is one of my favorite LNH names, hands down. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, I should've put that one in the FAQ. From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 27 01:47:34 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 01:47:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 8:32 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > Carefully guest-crafted by Tom Russell to draw you in and engage you for a good > long read of a good short story... Just Kidding! Speedily crafted by *me* to > entertain you for thirty seconds! > > http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#6 I would have given a little more description to the "And..."s. > The 1984 TV series "Punky Brewster" and "Going Bananas" > (featuring the family-fun super-monkey Roxana Banana) took this concept the rest > of the way. Ah, man, I remember Punky Brewster. Both the original wacky-foster-family sitcom and the animated-series-with-inexplicable-magical-mascot. > But this Turtle is not going to appear in Powernaut 1985... He's too smart to > be sucked into a superhero fight, when his friends' lives need his help. Heh. > Indeed, I don't see him fitting in my universe at all. Yes, he *can* fit... but > if he stayed, he'd be revealed as an alien experiment or a Doom Creature or an > armored envoy from Earth-Draconis or something. Aw, but metafiction! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, metafiction, yo From pwerdna at gmail.com Thu Aug 27 03:00:52 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 03:00:52 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 Message-ID: So I just got an idea and threw this together: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Humanity I dunno, I like it, what'cha think? Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, pretty rad right From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Thu Aug 27 17:09:40 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 17:09:40 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [LNH20/HCC] Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' [HCC55] Message-ID: LNH20/HCC: Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14 'Symbols' By Saxon Brenton [for High Concept Challenge #55] Professor Penumbra stared at the rotary telephone. It sat with almost wilful incongruity in the middle of the baseball field, perhaps a metre from second base, its receiver off the hook and lying on the grass. The adventurer glanced around. The field seemed empty, but to be honest he didn't really trust that appearance. This was far from an ordinary baseball field. Just beyond the edge of the outfield, encroaching up to pretty much the edge of the playing area, was a field of corn. And overhead was a night sky filled with stars that were bright and sharply defined and brilliantly multicoloured in the way that a human perception of the sky was not. It looked photoshopped. As if someone had taken a colour corrected astronomy picture and inserted it to encompass everything above the horizon. The contrast with the warm air and harsh summer sunlight made the sun conspicuous by its absence. There were sounds coming from the telephone receiver. He could hear them, even over the low background drone of cicadas. Professor Penumbra squatted down and reached out to pick up the receiver, thought better of it, fished around in his pockets for one of those little sealed packets of antibacterial tissues that he kept for just such an emergency, tore it open, and used the tissue inside to grab the receiver instead. (The Professor also had a handkerchief in his pocket. One that he used for, you know, actually blowing his nose. This was because he was old enough to belong to a generation that wasn't automatically squicked by the idea of having a snotty piece of cloth wadded up in his pocket until he could throw it in the washing basket at the end of the day.) He put the receiver to his ear and listened. There was noisy collection of street sounds: cars, and sirens, and people yelling, and instructions to stand back from the cordoned off area. It sounded like someone was in a lot of trouble. Then he put the receiver back down on the grass, stood up and wondered which direction he needed to go in to search. Or maybe he should just call out. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Hello!" at the top of his lungs. "Is there anyone around here?" There was an almost immediate response. "Over here. Over by the edge." The voice didn't sound panicked or urgent, so Professor Penumbra ambled forward into the over-head-height corn rows, simply keeping a conversation going and sounding calm. "So, is it just you? Anybody else?" "Not that I've seen. Hey there," said a young man seated casually on the ground as Professor Penumbra almost tripped over him. "Better watch your step. This place doesn't seem to be very big, and the first step's a doozy." "So I see." The corn rows had come to an end because the ground had come to an end. The stalks grew right up to the edge of a cliff. The young man was looking at the Professor with a quizzical look of half recognition. "Okay, you probably get this a lot, but aren't you that Professor Penumbra dude from the Legion of Net.Heroes?" Penumbra gave him a deliberately calm reply, for much the same reason that you talked calmly to people standing on a window ledge several stories up. "Yep, that's me." He reached out to shake hands, which the other accepted readily. "And you are?" "Ron Finlayson." Ron leaned back and chewed thoughtfully on a stalk of grass. (Penumbra guessed he must have picked it from the baseball field, since there was nothing but bare dirt here at the base of the corn crop.) "Okay," said Ron, "This is looking about as bad as I thought, but you're the expert on this sort of thing so you can tell me if I've got any of this wrong, but... I'm dead, aren't I?" Then his eyes opened, and he went "Ooo! Wait a second, I just thought of something. Have I asked the question, 'Have I asked this question before?'" Professor Penumbra stared at him. "Sorry, what?" "It's just something I remember about people who've had head trauma and stuff. The short term memory gets shot, and they have a tendency to keep asking 'What happened' and 'Where am I?' over and over again. So I made a mental note years ago that if I every woke up in hospital I was gonna ask 'Have I asked this question before?'. Just to freak the nurses out. Well, I'm not in hospital, but I'm pretty sure the was a car crash while I was walking to work at the convenience store, so, you know, that's close enough, right?" "Man, that is so meta it's... I dunno even know what it is. I mean, seriously, if you remember there being an accident, then you're not having trouble with your memory. But, no: you haven't asked that question before." "No, I suppose not," said Ron. He looked at his forearms. "Still," he said, and took a felt tip pen from his shirt pocket and marked a single stoke on his arm. "So, back to the matter at hand." "What? Oh, right, dying. Uh, probably not." The Professor was somewhat off balance. But on the up side, it seemed to Penumbra that Ron was unlikely to be suffering a panic attack any time soon. "I think you're having a near death experience, to be honest." "Oh? Oh, okay." Ron scratched the back of his neck. "Well, that's better than I was expecting, so I guess that doesn't suck. After all the death symbols I was kind of thinking the worst." Interested, Penumbra asked, "What death symbols?" Ron waved his hands back towards the sports field. "Baseball diamond surrounded by a corn field. That's from the Field Of Dreams movie with... uh..." He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. "Costner?" "Yeah, that's him. Then there's the telephone. Did you notice it was a toy telephone? That's the second Poltergeist movie." Then Ron frowned. "The bit I don't get is what's down there. Even for a near death experience, that not the way it's supposed to be." Professor Penumbra glanced over the cliff. Or at least what looked like a cliff. After all, cliffs usually had something at the bottom. Ground or water or suchlike. This cliff just ended, as though the baseball field with its frilled edge of corn was just a hunk of earth floating in space. And down below that was the thing that Ron was having a philosophical objection to: a turtle bigger than worlds. Ron said, quite calmly, "It's pretty awesome, but I'm not sure I get what it means." Professor Penumbra looked at the turtle for a while. Finally he said, "Well, one of the symbolic meanings of the turtle is longevity. But I don't think that's what we're talking about in this case." He turned to Ron. "Do you feel up for taking a bit of a trip to get a different view?" Ron looked surprised. "Okay, I guess." He took Professor Penumbra's hand and stood up, and then laughed with delight when Penumbra tugged him up into the air and they went flying out over the edge. "Whoa! Ha ha! Hey, could I have done this myself." "Probably. It's kind of like lucid dreaming. If it occurs to you that you want to fly, all you have to do is make the effort." "I dunno about that. I've been having flying dreams on and off for years, and no matter how much I try, my altitude control always bites big time." Then he asked, "How far are we going?" "We don't need to go far. In this case the symbolism of getting a new point of view is just as important as actually shifting to a new vantage point. Here, take a look." Ron peered down. Below the turtle there was... another turtle. And another below that. And another below that. And so on as far as he could see. "Yin and Yang," said Professor Penumbra, and there was a smile in his voice. "The symbol contains both the thing and its opposite. So the symbol of longevity also represents an unending sequence of lives beyond death. It's turtles all the way down." Ron sporfled in amusement. Then he frowned and let out a large breath. "You okay?" "No, I feel a bit of an ache in my chest." For the first time he looked concerned. "I guess this is where I move on to the next turtle, right?" "I kind of doubt it," said Professor Penumbra. He ran a pair of fingers down the front of Ron's face and chest - not touching, just pointing in a vaguely mystical way. "If you're feeling aches and pains then that indicates that you're moving back into synch with your body. I'm guessing the paramedics have got you on the mend. Looks like you're going to get the opportunity to pester nurses after all." Ron vanished in a slow explosion of sparkles that mirrored the multicoloured splatter of stars overhead. Professor Penumbra floated for a few moments while the spiritscape around him faded away, and he made his way back to the material world. He was feeling mischievous, and he wanted to find out what hospital Ron was going to be taken to, so that he could leave a felt tip pen for him to find on the bedside table when he woke up. ===== Written for the 55th High Concept Challenge: 'Required Elements'. A story containing a combination of a certain prop, line of dialogue, character, animal and location. ----- Saxon Brenton University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au saxonbrenton at hotmail.com "These 'no-nonsense' solutions of yours just don't hold water in a complex world of jet-powered apes and time-travel." - Superman, JLA Classified #3 From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Thu Aug 27 17:35:57 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 17:35:57 -0700 (PDT) Subject: HCC #55: Required Elements [DEADLINE EXTENSION!] In-Reply-To: <861710a1-e941-4876-b2c9-64c917b76a67@googlegroups.com> References: <861710a1-e941-4876-b2c9-64c917b76a67@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: Mike Friedman (mdfriedman at gmail.com) wrote: >> >> Have fun with it... I'm giving you until 8/26, because why not? > > Due to some requests, I am moving the deadline out one more week, until Friday 9/4. Still plenty of time to join in the fun! What? No! If you give more time, then I'll *waste* it. And I'm going to be far too busy procrastinating on writing the next 'Beyond the Fields' episode to focus on properly avoiding a HCC project. (This is why I sat up until midnight on Wednesday evening, getting as much as possible together...) --- Saxon Brenton Zen and the Art of Writing Procrastination... -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 27 19:12:36 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 19:12:36 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/27/2015 3:00 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > So I just got an idea and threw this together: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Humanity > > I dunno, I like it, what'cha think? > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, pretty rad right well, we've obviously appeared in LNH stories, and you even have the citations. So we're eligible for the Wiki. And it's as good an explanation of Humanity as any. Now, if Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight is an ongoing series, I could start playing! -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 27 19:21:54 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 19:21:54 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/27/2015 1:47 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > I would have given a little more description to the "And..."s. "Would have" is for weenies... I can *update* my stories, even if they're cartoons! And my readers may not be able to follow my mental processes - but that does not mean I should argue with the readers, especially when you're not the first one who's mentioned that. Just maybe the first one on RACC... Try http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#6 now! >> But this Turtle is not going to appear in Powernaut 1985... He's >> too smart to be sucked into a superhero fight, when his friends' >> lives need his help. Heh. Indeed, I don't see him fitting in my >> universe at all. Yes, he *can* fit... but if he stayed, he'd be >> revealed as an alien experiment or a Doom Creature or an armored >> envoy from Earth-Draconis or something. > > Aw, but metafiction! > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, metafiction, yo ehh, maybe, but I'm trying to shake the habit of claiming rights to every single thing I toss off for a one-shot story. If you want metafiction from Tommy the Turtle, take it up with Michael now! 8{D> -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 27 19:23:46 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 19:23:46 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: <832ff2c8-7783-4be2-aeb7-cda549cdc6c6@googlegroups.com> References: <832ff2c8-7783-4be2-aeb7-cda549cdc6c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 9:31 PM, Michael D Friedman wrote: > Love the "think" lines. :) Thanks! > ...And so the challengee becomes the challenger. I shall have to > thinkof a way to incorporate Mr. Turtle into the TOF world Well, all right. I can see *my* challenge will be a tough one to win, but at least I'll get a prize out of it. 8{D> -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 27 19:26:25 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 19:26:25 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 In-Reply-To: <53A56BCE-31E9-4343-B484-92B0C8776CAA@earthlink.net> References: <53A56BCE-31E9-4343-B484-92B0C8776CAA@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 8:11 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #26 > > Today's pick is the Color Error Man entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Color%20Error%20Man > > Color-Error Man (created by Jeff "Drizzt" Barnes) > is a member of the Brotherhood of Net.Villains > and his name says what his powers are.. Oooh, I had to fight Color-Error Man today over that comic I published yesterday! I've slipped the update past you, under the pretense of caring what my readership thinks of what I draw. So there! -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From seiler at eilertech.com Thu Aug 27 19:27:58 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2015 19:27:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: WWW: Ripping Off King Arthur #250 -- The Chainsawrfs Part Three In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/26/2015 8:16 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > Andrew posted: > >>On 8/25/2015 7:57 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: >>> More Chainsawrfs.. >>> >>>http://www.rippingoffkingarthur.com/story-index/the-chainsawrfs-index/the-chainsawrfs-part-three/ >> >>I really don't want to know how you sawrf a hula doll. o.o; >> >>Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, oh my sawrf > > > I'm sure there's a Clockwork Smurf fanfiction some > where on the Net that answers that.. > > Arthur "Not that I would know.." Spitzer Wood glue afterward. Lots of wood glue. Now, where does wood glue come from in the Chainsawrf universe? ... -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From mdfriedman at gmail.com Fri Aug 28 08:25:02 2015 From: mdfriedman at gmail.com (Michael D Friedman) Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2015 08:25:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [LNH20/HCC] Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' [HCC55] In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <0320beda-7f9a-4e49-bce5-396a0d106b4b@googlegroups.com> Nice job! Really enjoyed it, even though I'm not familiar with Professor Penumbra. Any reading suggestions for more on his backstory? - Mike. From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Fri Aug 28 11:46:56 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2015 11:46:56 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 In-Reply-To: References: , Message-ID: On 8/27/2015 3:00 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > So I just got an idea and threw this together: > >> http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Humanity > > I dunno, I like it, what'cha think? > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, pretty rad right Huh. Certainly an impressive amount of lyricism in it. Now, my first thought was to wonder whether lyricism is actually appropriate for a hard SF concept related to the Singularity. But then it occured to me that 'sufficiently advanced indistinguishable from...'. It's cool. --- Saxon Brenton From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 28 13:36:46 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2015 13:36:46 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #27 Message-ID: <9A9F40B3-74EC-4988-B3F0-B6D4BA381F10@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #27 Today's pick is the Acton Lord entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Acton%20Lord A twisted corrupted GIF version of Sig.Lad created by Dave Van Domelen (well that's one version of Acton Lord -- there are a bunch of others). Arthur "Likes the wReamed version.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From arspitzer at earthlink.net Fri Aug 28 13:40:34 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2015 13:40:34 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 Message-ID: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight's arch-enemy has arisen I see. :) Arthur "Or is it the sidekick?" Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Fri Aug 28 14:55:07 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2015 14:55:07 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [LNH20/HCC] Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' [HCC55] In-Reply-To: <0320beda-7f9a-4e49-bce5-396a0d106b4b@googlegroups.com> References: <0320beda-7f9a-4e49-bce5-396a0d106b4b@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On Fri 28 August 2015 Mike (mdfriedman at gmail.com) wrote: > Nice job! Really enjoyed it, even though I'm not familiar > with Professor Penumbra. Any reading suggestions for more on > his backstory? Thank you. The short list of stories, plus character notes and especially backstory, is available on his wiki entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Professor%20Penumbra By co-incidence Arthur's series of LNH wiki retrospectives made me think: "Oh yeah. There'll be an entry for Professor Penumbra. I wonder if there's any stories that I've missed or that I'm simply blanking on that show I should be writing him as something other than Occultism Kid with the serial numbers filed off." Answer: There's a few subtle points of differentiation. But, no, for the most part their characteristics tend to blend together in my headspace. --- Saxon Brenton "All these trenchcoaters dress alike..." From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 00:32:42 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 00:32:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [LNH20/HCC] Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' [HCC55] In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/27/2015 8:09 PM, Saxon Brenton wrote: > LNH20/HCC: Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' SAXON LNH20 <3 > Professor Penumbra stared at the rotary telephone. PROFESSOR PENUMBRA <3 <3 <3 > This was far from an ordinary baseball field. > Just beyond the edge of the outfield, encroaching up to pretty much > the edge of the playing area, was a field of corn. Nice. :D > And overhead was a > night sky filled with stars that were bright and sharply defined and > brilliantly multicoloured in the way that a human perception of the sky > was not. > It looked photoshopped. As if someone had taken a colour corrected > astronomy picture and inserted it to encompass everything above the > horizon. The contrast with the warm air and harsh summer sunlight made > the sun conspicuous by its absence. This description *really* evokes a weird space to a level I'm not sure you've ever reached before. Good job! > He put the receiver to his ear and listened. There was noisy > collection of street sounds: cars, and sirens, and people yelling, and > instructions to stand back from the cordoned off area. It sounded like > someone was in a lot of trouble. Fascinating. o.o > "And you are?" > "Ron Finlayson." ...huh. You know, this is the first version, out of the four that have come out so far, to make this character male. (And, spoilers, but the one in mine is going to be female too.) Ron leaned back and chewed thoughtfully on a > stalk of grass. (Penumbra guessed he must have picked it from the > baseball field, since there was nothing but bare dirt here at the base > of the corn crop.) That's an odd detail to point out. `.` > "It's just something I remember about people who've had head trauma > and stuff. The short term memory gets shot, and they have a tendency to > keep asking 'What happened' and 'Where am I?' over and over again. So I > made a mental note years ago that if I every woke up in hospital I was > gonna ask 'Have I asked this question before?'. Just to freak the > nurses out. Well, I'm not in hospital, but I'm pretty sure the was a > car crash while I was walking to work at the convenience store, so, you > know, that's close enough, right?" > "Man, that is so meta it's... I dunno even know what it is. Heeheehee. <3 > Ron waved his hands back towards the sports field. "Baseball > diamond surrounded by a corn field. That's from the Field Of Dreams > movie with... uh..." He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. > "Costner?" > "Yeah, that's him. Then there's the telephone. Did you notice it > was a toy telephone? That's the second Poltergeist movie." Hmmmmm. I wonder if Ron is old enough to know these references 'natively' or if he's the kind of person who gets interested in these movies. Maybe he's got someone in his life who does? Parents? > And down below that was the thing that Ron was > having a philosophical objection to: a turtle bigger than worlds. See, I would have been expecting a more skeletal psychopomp to show up at that point. > Ron peered down. Below the turtle there was... another turtle. > And another below that. And another below that. And so on as far as > he could see. > "Yin and Yang," said Professor Penumbra, and there was a smile in > his voice. "The symbol contains both the thing and its opposite. So > the symbol of longevity also represents an unending sequence of lives > beyond death. It's turtles all the way down." Ooooooooh. o.o That's pretty wonderful. > "I kind of doubt it," said Professor Penumbra. He ran a pair of > fingers down the front of Ron's face and chest - not touching, just > pointing in a vaguely mystical way. "If you're feeling aches and pains > then that indicates that you're moving back into synch with your body. > I'm guessing the paramedics have got you on the mend. Looks like > you're going to get the opportunity to pester nurses after all." Ah, yes. Reminds me of the issue where Retcon Lad met Death - though this was more concentrated and more visually impressive. > Professor Penumbra floated for a few moments while the spiritscape > around him faded away, and he made his way back to the material world. > He was feeling mischievous, and he wanted to find out what hospital Ron > was going to be taken to, so that he could leave a felt tip pen for him > to find on the bedside table when he woke up. Heeheehee. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, mmmm yas goodstuff. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 01:06:26 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 01:06:26 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/28/2015 2:46 PM, Saxon Brenton wrote: > Huh. Certainly an impressive amount of lyricism in it. Yeah, I got the opening all at once and worked from there. > Now, my first thought was to wonder whether lyricism is actually > appropriate for a hard SF concept related to the Singularity. But > then it occured to me that 'sufficiently advanced indistinguishable > from...'. It's cool. Indeed. <3 I've been reading more hard SF lately, and trying to reach for the stuff that really hits that sense of wonder and scope - the stuff that really expresses the sense that this is something bigger than our current understanding, you know? All too much 'classic' SF just acts like these amazing, viewpoint-bending concepts just click perfectly within our social context, and our vocabulary, and our ways of thinking - as if the version that's shaved down to fit in the square hole is a square, instead of a polymorphous hypercube. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, or eleven-dimensional Rubik's cube. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 01:09:43 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 01:09:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: [LNH20/HCC] Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 #14: 'Symbols' [HCC55] In-Reply-To: References: <0320beda-7f9a-4e49-bce5-396a0d106b4b@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/28/2015 5:55 PM, Saxon Brenton wrote: > By co-incidence Arthur's series of LNH wiki retrospectives made > me think: > "Oh yeah. There'll be an entry for Professor Penumbra. I wonder > if there's any stories that I've missed or that I'm simply > blanking on that show I should be writing him as something other > than Occultism Kid with the serial numbers filed off." > > Answer: There's a few subtle points of differentiation. But, no, > for the most part their characteristics tend to blend together > in my headspace. I definitely think it's more than "subtle". PP's backstory is one of the most fascinating parts of him, I'd say, especially his heritage as an adventurer first and mystic second, who became a greater mystic than most simply because of a combination of time, place, and need. That said, a situation like this doesn't make the most of the differences - as psychopomps, both PP and OK would be looking to gently guide the spiritually ambiguous where they need to go and show them what they need to see. So your story came out fine, IMHO. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, also, he's just rad. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 01:12:55 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 01:12:55 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH/META: Wiki Entry I'm Really Proud Of Spotlight #1 In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/28/2015 4:40 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight's arch-enemy has arisen I see. :) > > Arthur "Or is it the sidekick?" Spitzer Maybe it's the reformed enemy/semi-partner semi-rival. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, with long hair and a pointier costume. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 01:16:58 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 01:16:58 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/27/2015 10:21 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/27/2015 1:47 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > >> I would have given a little more description to the "And..."s. > > "Would have" is for weenies... I can *update* my stories, even if they're > cartoons! And my readers may not be able to follow my mental processes - but > that does not mean I should argue with the readers, especially when you're not > the first one who's mentioned that. Just maybe the first one on RACC... Try > http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#6 now! Hmmmmm! Better, but if I may nitpick a little more, I feel like it's still not entirely clear what effects he's having. The middle panel, especially, doesn't feel like people hitting home runs, as I assume it's supposed to be. >> Aw, but metafiction! >> >> Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, metafiction, yo > > ehh, maybe, but I'm trying to shake the habit of claiming rights to every single > thing I toss off for a one-shot story. If you want metafiction from Tommy the > Turtle, take it up with Michael now! 8{D> That's fair. <3 And honestly, I'm sure a title like The Truth About Fiction can deliver. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, deliver deep dish, yo From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 01:24:11 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 01:24:11 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #27 In-Reply-To: <9A9F40B3-74EC-4988-B3F0-B6D4BA381F10@earthlink.net> References: <9A9F40B3-74EC-4988-B3F0-B6D4BA381F10@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/28/2015 4:36 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #27 > > Today's pick is the Acton Lord entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Acton%20Lord > > A twisted corrupted GIF version of Sig.Lad > created by Dave Van Domelen (well that's > one version of Acton Lord -- there are > a bunch of others). Another one I still need to finish, though it's almost complete - and another one where I worry that there's too many details and it's just re-telling his story rather than giving a useful summary of What You Need To Know. Still, I'm not sure what to cut... > Arthur "Likes the wReamed version.." Spitzer Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, mmmmm, pizza. From ben.rawluk at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 15:08:26 2015 From: ben.rawluk at gmail.com (Ben Rawluk) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 15:08:26 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 Message-ID: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> DASHING TALES, episode the first, "Pitching to the Void," by Ben Rawluk The door to the roof is thick and heavy, so Emma has to brace her shoulder against it to push it open. She doesn't let it swing shut until the wedge of wood is firmly in place. Her face puckers at the smell of dumpsters in the alley running behind the building. Slim and brown-skinned, Marco is sitting on the edge of the roof in a red hoodie and white T-shirt, legs dangling. His back is to the door. "Bogus said you were up here," Emma says, drawing the words out. Clement Bogus had been chain-smoking outside on the front stoop of the building when she showed up. She clears her throat, and then does a passable imitation of the gruff asshole: "Intern's up there, waiting for you." There's a snort, Marco, but he doesn't turn around. They stare at the LNHQ in the distance. Down here on Didio Drive the sky is ready for a downpour, but she's pretty sure those are columns of bright sunlight over-- "Steve dumped me," Marco says, eventually. Emma lets out a breath. "What happened?" "I read him one of my poems--" "Jesus, Marco." "He asked! He wanted to be supportive." He sounds like he's trying not to cry. "I forgot. I forgot for a whole minute. I thought -- I mean, maybe this time. You know?" He looks up at her for the first time and watches as Emma drops onto the edge of the roof alongside him. She squeezes his shoulder with her dark-skinned hand. Downstairs, in the newsroom of the Net.ropolis Netizen, Victor King is probably complaining loudly about reporters being late for the morning editorial meeting. "I don't want to be a villain," Marco says, fingers laced together in his lap. "You're not a villain." Marco doesn't respond, and they sit there. Emma is trying not to think about the sweaty stink of summer dumpsters, or the humidity, or the way those clouds are gathering. The heat broke last night and now she's actually chilly in her argyle sweater vest and oxford shirt. She pulls idly at her frizzing black hair. She's trying not to think about the way Victor King's neck veins bulge when he's yelling at her. She's trying not to think about Clement Bogus on the stoop with a halo of smoke, eyes sunken and bruised, looking like he probably slept on the office couch last night because you're always going to be filing late night at night when the Occult's your beat. Eventually, Marco says, "Maybe I should go join up." He's looking across at the LNHQ, at the the huge statues in the Avenue of Net.Heroes. (And try not to think about how easily you can see all that no matter where you go, about that particularly geographical oddity of Net.ropolis, because you'll go mad otherwise.) "But what about working your way up from intern?" "Can you imagine what would happen if I tried to write articles?" Can't be any worse than your poetry, Emma doesn't say. She's heard about what happened that one time at Open Mike Night. Instead, she says, "It's the Netizen, Marco. It can't be any worse than the trash we already publish." This wasn't what she pictured in J-School. She though, maybe the Harbinger, the Herald, the Times. She'd been very vague with her mother on the phone when Victor King hired her. "We're not really crusading reporters for a great Net.ropolitan newspaper. Half the personals are cult recruitment ads from the Shimbleshanks." She blinks. "Okay, maybe we should both join." Marco's face puckers into an ugly smile. "Bad-Poetry Boy." "And I could be -- The Headliner?" "You wish." He knocks his shoulder against hers. "Pulitzer Prize Princess." "Captain Truth." "Emma Dash: Girl Reporter." "Ugh, please." She presses her hands to her face, eyes shut. "Did you know Bogus used to be a trenchcoater? Or he says he was." "Oh god, did you work late last night? You're an intern, you don't--" "I was filing. Uh. Mister King said--" "And you got the Late Night Clement Bogus Treatment, huh? When he gets drunk on watered-down scotch out of Victor King's secret stash and starts telling tales? Did he say what he called himself when he was a trenchcoater?" She makes air-quotes around the word "trenchcoater," then looks away. Sooner or later everybody gets to sit through Bogus slobbering drunk half-truths into the deepest hours of night. "Was he claiming to be Doctor Deadbeat or the Jellomancer?" Sometimes when Bogus is talking about the Occult beat, it's just a string of made-up words. "Because I'm pretty sure he was Mister Failure." "I think he was hitting on me, actually." Her eyebrows shoot up. "It's fine," says Marco. He looks away, clearly embarrassed. The sound of crows in the distance, fighting over french fries left at a bus stop. She's about to ask him about Bogus, about whether or not anything happened, but Marco clears his throat. "Maybe we should be trenchcoaters." he looks back at her. "That seems -- easier. Just hang around in seedy bars and act mysterious." He wiggles his fingers. "Open license to be complete messes, sounds like." He gets a faraway look in his eyes. "I mean, the Netizen, we're practically halfway there." "Pretty sure the LNH has better benefits." (Or benefits at all, really.) Beside her, Marco lets out a long breath and says, "Bad-Poetry Boy." "On the other hand," says Emma. "I had a dream the other night that Net.ropolis got city-napped. Carmen Sandiego-style. Dumped on another planet, with a bunch of other cities. Half of them were also Net.ropolis? And the LNH had to fight all these other heroes and stuff. Like vampire versions of themselves. The Society of Wireless Heroes." She clears her throat. "That would have been a great story. Page One. Victor King would have given me a raise." She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. "Actually," she says. "I could totally pitch that. Just say they went back in time and prevented it from happening." "You've probably been working at the Netizen too long." "I need a break from the swamp monster stories." She frowns. "My point -- my point was that the LNH have to deal with stupid crap like that all the time. Alternate Looniverses. Getting turned into vampires or babies or whatever. Remember when Kid Not Appearing In Any Retcon Hour Story ended up with a lion's head?" "No." "Maybe that was an imaginary story." "I'm pretty sure I'd rather have a lion's head than listen to Mister King yell at me about screwing up his lunch order again." Emma's about to say something to that when there's a grunt from behind them, and the door slams open, Clement Bogus leaning against it bodily to hold it. He's smoking with his free hand, one of those awful lime-green menthols he gets from the gas station down at Didio and Mieville. He looks like a sick mixture of bored and pissed off, though his hair is damp now. Probably he slunk off to the bathhouse around the corner to have a quick shower. "You're late for the editorial meeting," he says, sharply, not bothering to look at Marco. Just an intern, after all. Emma has been around long enough that Bogus doesn't bother to pretend like she doesn't exist. He flares his nostrils, flicks his cigarette away and then pulls idly at his loose black tie, like it's going to look anymore professional. He's also wearing that seedy-looking trenchcoat, and Emma tries to imagine casting any kind of spell. Maybe he does card tricks. "King wanted me to come get you, Dash. I'm supposed to threaten to fire you, but, let's pretend I care, okay?" Marco is up on his feet first, saying, "Sorry, Mister Bogus." Bogus ignores him. Emma's hands ball into fists as she stands, and she has to cross her arms to stop herself from getting too angry. Clement Bogus has always been an asshole. He is not a well-rounded character. There's no point. "He expects pitches," Bogus says, and Emma can already picture the horrible veins along Victor King's neck, the manic buzz of his eyes. The Netizen is one step up from sharpie graffiti on a bathroom stall, but Victor King is very good at instilling the fear of being fired in his reporters. He will call her fat and lazy. He expects pitches, and if he doesn't like what he gets, you're going to end up in the alley with the dumpsters. Emma breezes past Bogus and doesn't look back, but asks, "What have you got?" "There's always an apocalypse I can pull out of my ass on a slow week." Marco holds the door open, and Emma steps past him, into the stairwell leading down. It stinks faintly of cigarettes, years of stress reporters having meltdowns in it while they hide from Victor King or whatever lunatic editor was running the show at the time. "Well," Emma says. She doesn't have enough money saved up to pay rent if she gets fired. Mom won't send her any more. She's staring back at Marco. Gotta take risks. "I'm pitching the LNH. I'm gonna follow around a brand-new Legionnaire on his first week. Can't get any more narratively-relevant than the Legion of Net.Heroes." Marco almost croaks, "What?" Bogus is chewing the inside of his mouth. "Everybody writes LNH stories." "Not like this." "Emma--" It was your idea, she wants to say. Give Marco half the credit and maybe he won't be an intern forever. The door closes behind Bogus and the three of them are alone in the narrow stairwell, quiet enough that if you listen, you can make out Conroy Brown's rantings. Emma Dash looks up at Bogus, at his thrift-store suit and that ugly tie. Then she looks at Marco, who once caused a ten-block-radius brown-out with a villanelle. "Welcome to the Secret Origin of Bad-Poetry Boy, gentlemen." ===== CHARACTER CREDITS Emma Dash: Girl Reporter, Bad-Poetry Boy, Clement Bogus, Victor King created by Ben Rawluk, copyright 2015 ===== AUTHOR'S NOTES It's been, what? 15 years or something? I've lurking on racc again. I don't know, really, what called me back here. Been talking to Rogers some, helping him with some Easily-Discovered Man plot points involving the Jones twins, though I don't know how I feel about the Jones twins. Emma Dash and the associated cast members have been lurking around in my head for a while, looking for a suitable outlet. It's nice to have some short, casual writing to play with in between working on the novel and a poetry manuscript. So, um, hi? From arspitzer at earthlink.net Sat Aug 29 15:36:02 2015 From: arspitzer at earthlink.net (Arthur Spitzer) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 15:36:02 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #28 Message-ID: <8BF7676E-96F2-4FE7-8A19-5FBEB7DD5F73@earthlink.net> The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #28 Today's pick is the Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 entry: http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Bite-Size%20Tales%20of%20the%20LNH%20v20 An Anthology series for the LNH20 imprint. Arthur "The right size to be bitten.." Spitzer -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From saxonbrenton at hotmail.com Sat Aug 29 21:08:49 2015 From: saxonbrenton at hotmail.com (Saxon Brenton) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 21:08:49 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 In-Reply-To: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On Sat 29 August 2015 Ben Rawluk (ben.rawluk at gmail.com) wrote: Hmm. Ben's back, with his almost archetypal "discontent protagonist duo who're considering Trenchcoating or Net.Heroing in the mistaken belief that it'll somehow be an improvement, the poor fools" story format. Wait... Bad poetry? Are we talking 'Tortured by Vogons' level of bad poetry? ---Saxon BrentonThis could be bad... I mean, good. I mean... -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 22:15:39 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 22:15:39 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #28 In-Reply-To: <8BF7676E-96F2-4FE7-8A19-5FBEB7DD5F73@earthlink.net> References: <8BF7676E-96F2-4FE7-8A19-5FBEB7DD5F73@earthlink.net> Message-ID: On 8/29/2015 6:36 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote: > The Daily LNH Wiki Entry Spotlight #28 > > Today's pick is the Bite-Size Tales of the LNH v20 entry: > > http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Bite-Size%20Tales%20of%20the%20LNH%20v20 > > An Anthology series for the LNH20 imprint. Aha! Luckily, I got around to adding Saxon's latest issue to that page last night. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, and added Ben's story to the Latest LNH Stories. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sat Aug 29 22:15:42 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sat, 29 Aug 2015 22:15:42 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 In-Reply-To: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/29/2015 6:08 PM, Ben Rawluk wrote: > DASHING TALES, episode the first, > "Pitching to the Void," > by Ben Rawluk !!! AAAAA! RADICALMAZING! > "I read him one of my poems--" > > "Jesus, Marco." > >"He asked! He wanted to be supportive." He sounds like he's trying not to > cry. "I forgot. I forgot for a whole minute. I thought -- I mean, maybe this > time. You know?" He looks up at her for the first time and watches as Emma > drops onto the edge of the roof alongside him. She squeezes his shoulder with > her dark-skinned hand. Downstairs, in the newsroom of the Net.ropolis > Netizen, Victor King is probably complaining loudly about reporters being > late for the morning editorial meeting. "I don't want to be a villain," Marco > says, fingers laced together in his lap. Awwwwwww, poor woobie. I want to hug. ;.; > Eventually, Marco says, "Maybe I should go join up." He's looking across at > the LNHQ, at the the huge statues in the Avenue of Net.Heroes. Oooo, good worldbuilding. >(And try not to think about how easily you can see all that no matter where > you go, about that particularly geographical oddity of Net.ropolis, because > you'll go mad otherwise.) :D > "We're not really crusading reporters for a great Net.ropolitan newspaper. > Half the personals are cult recruitment ads from the Shimbleshanks." She > blinks. "Okay, maybe we should both join." Ooooo, good use of obscure setting details! > Marco's face puckers into an ugly smile. "Bad-Poetry Boy." > > "And I could be -- The Headliner?" > > "You wish." He knocks his shoulder against hers. "Pulitzer Prize Princess." > > "Captain Truth." > > "Emma Dash: Girl Reporter." Great gods this is adorable. >Sooner or later everybody gets to sit through Bogus slobbering drunk > half-truths into the deepest hours of night. "Was he claiming to be Doctor > Deadbeat or the Jellomancer?" Sometimes when Bogus is talking about the > Occult beat, it's just a string of made-up words. "Because I'm pretty sure he > was Mister Failure." Oh *snap*. >"On the other hand," says Emma. "I had a dream the other night that > Net.ropolis got city-napped. Carmen Sandiego-style. Dumped on another planet, > with a bunch of other cities. Half of them were also Net.ropolis? And the LNH > had to fight all these other heroes and stuff. Like vampire versions of > themselves. The Society of Wireless Heroes." She clears her throat. "That > would have been a great story. Page One. Victor King would have given me a > raise." She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. "Actually," she says. "I > could totally pitch that. Just say they went back in time and prevented it > from happening." Oh that's good. <3 Good combination of reference and versimilitude and weirdness. > Bogus ignores him. Emma's hands ball into fists as she stands, and she has to > cross her arms to stop herself from getting too angry. Clement Bogus has > always been an asshole. He is not a well-rounded character. There's no point. Metafiction~ *dances in the rain* > "Emma--" > >It was your idea, she wants to say. Give Marco half the credit and maybe he > won't be an intern forever. The door closes behind Bogus and the three of > them are alone in the narrow stairwell, quiet enough that if you listen, you > can make out Conroy Brown's rantings. Emma Dash looks up at Bogus, at his > thrift-store suit and that ugly tie. Then she looks at Marco, who once caused > a ten-block-radius brown-out with a villanelle. "Welcome to the Secret Origin > of Bad-Poetry Boy, gentlemen." Aaaaaaa. <3 <3 <3 Aaaa. Aaaa aa. <3 >Emma Dash: Girl Reporter, Bad-Poetry Boy, Clement Bogus, Victor King created > by Ben Rawluk, copyright 2015 Aaaaaaaaaaaa. <3 > AUTHOR'S NOTES > >It's been, what? 15 years or something? I've lurking on racc again. I don't > know, really, what called me back here. It seems to have been happening a lot lately. My current theory is that the ending of Just Another Cascade was a Morrison-esque chaos magic ritual that actually spread inspiration through Earth's noosphere. (Or it's because of the possibility of another Clinton in the White House. Whichevs.) > Been talking to Rogers some, helping him with some Easily-Discovered Man plot > points involving the Jones twins, though I don't know how I feel about the > Jones twins. Emma Dash and the associated cast members have been lurking > around in my head for a while, looking for a suitable outlet. This was rad. I was afraid it was going to be slightly standoffish to the genre like so much social realism in superhero universes is, but no, there's some deep engagement with the meat of the Looniverse here. <3 > It's nice to have some short, casual writing to play with in between working > on the novel and a poetry manuscript. Ah yes. ~.~ The LNH is fantastic for that. > So, um, hi? Welcome back! Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, the joint is hopping! From dvandom at eyrie.org Sun Aug 30 10:46:16 2015 From: dvandom at eyrie.org (Dave Van Domelen) Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 10:46:16 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: In article <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6 at googlegroups.com>, Ben Rawluk wrote: >Then she looks at >Marco, who once caused a ten-block-radius brown-out with a villanelle. Well, no one's been actively tapping the They Might Be Powers lately.... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMSUc2YjZ0k Dave Van Domelen, hopes the semester calms down enough soon for him to get back to writing fiction. From pwerdna at gmail.com Sun Aug 30 11:50:14 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 11:50:14 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 In-Reply-To: References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/30/2015 1:46 PM, Dave Van Domelen wrote: > In article <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6 at googlegroups.com>, > Ben Rawluk wrote: >> Then she looks at >> Marco, who once caused a ten-block-radius brown-out with a villanelle. > > Well, no one's been actively tapping the They Might Be Powers lately.... > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMSUc2YjZ0k Niiiiiice. <3 > Dave Van Domelen, hopes the semester calms down enough soon for him to > get back to writing fiction. Heck yes please. <3 Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, they might not be powers From seiler at eilertech.com Sun Aug 30 16:07:27 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 16:07:27 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/29/2015 1:16 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/27/2015 10:21 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: >> >> Try http://www.eilertech.com/stories/powernaut/1984.htm#6 now! > > Hmmmmm! Better, but if I may nitpick a little more, I feel like it's > still not entirely clear what effects he's having. The middle panel, > especially, doesn't feel like people hitting home runs, as I assume it's > supposed to be. heh. I didn't intend it to be all home runs. I think I can safely say, Tommy the Turtle is a subtle creature who does not just make everything perfect for those who invoke him. But the batters are at least all hitting, and presumably getting runners on base. I might modify that last batter to get that home run, though. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons. From ben.rawluk at gmail.com Sun Aug 30 19:04:59 2015 From: ben.rawluk at gmail.com (Ben Rawluk) Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 19:04:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #2 Message-ID: <156c8dcb-7a8a-4245-ac39-f2ca27496bcd@googlegroups.com> DASHING TALES, episode the second, "Auditioning for an Off-Baudway Play," by Ben Rawluk The taxi takes them along the Avenue of Net.Heroes, with Emma engrossed in her phone and Marco? Marco is freaking out. "There are going to be Vogon jokes," he says. The swim goggles dig into his face and he doesn't know where to look; the statues of Legionnaires make his anxiety spike, and there are so many of them. They're tall and golden but the metal's been tarnished by weather and Marco doesn't recognize half of them. Legionnaires who are long-dead or disappeared or retconned out of existence. Legionnaires conjured out of nothing. And then there's the Ultimate Ninja. He definitely recognizes the Ultimate Ninja. "I don't think this was a good idea, Em." Can she not see that he's freaking out? Emma sighs, clicks off her phone and slips it into the leather satchel braced between her legs. "Don't worry," she says. "You'll be fine. They'll let you join. I can report on your experience. You get to do something useful with -- with your power. I'll have something for my portfolio." And then she can get away from the Net.ropolis Netizen, not that she says that. It's implied. They both get away from the Netizen. The cab follows the curve of the road and they pass corroded reproductions of Organic Lass and Pocket Man. "So you don't think -- I mean, you don't think my super-power is too stupid?" "Cheesecake-Eater Lad has made a very successful career out of being very good at making cheesecake. And eating cheesecake." "And they won't think I'm a villain? It's not, like -- it's kind of a destructive power." "Pretty sure Tsar Chasm was a member, once upon a time. I think. Actually, I'm not sure." Emma taps at her chin, before glancing back across at him. "There's probably some paperwork, and a test. I've read articles about the process, but I think it depends on who's conducting the evaluation and--" "They used to make you fight Ultimate Ninja." "I'm pretty sure that's against the Geneva Convention." There is a full beat, and then Emma says, "I mean, except when it's not. Are you actually freaking out about this, or is this about Steve?" "I'm not freaking out about Steve!" Oh god. He should never have said anything. It seemed so, so theoretical, when the words came out of his mouth back on the rooftop of the Netizen, looking out over the city. Maybe I should join up, he'd said. It was supposed to be a joke, but somehow they live in a world where joining the Legion of Net.Heroes is a reasonable back-up plan for failing at poetry. But really, this is Emma's fault. They're only doing this so that-- "You a net.hero?" The cab driver is watching him in the rear-view mirror. Marco blinks, because the cab driver has been mostly, mercifully silent since they got in and Emma told him where they were going. He would have preferred transit -- cheaper, and less chance of getting into an awkward conversation. "Uh," Marco says, and he hopes this isn't how he'll respond when they get there and he's applying. "Yeah," he says, after a full ten seconds. "Yes, I am. A net.hero." Said with such conviction, too. Imagine him facing down villains like this, imagine him facing down the entire Dorf Empire. Bad-Poetry Boy. Hah. "You must, you must drive a lot of net.heroes around over here--" "Net.heroes usually fly." And that feels, well, that feels like it really sets the tone for Marco Ramirez's first day as a net.hero. The cab leaves them at the front gates of the LNHQ, the golden statues of the Avenue giving way to an extensive lawn and front garden that looks like it's seen better days -- scarred and smashed by the latest cataclysmic battle, no doubt -- and Marco stands there awkwardly, very aware of the ridiculous costume he shimmied himself into that morning, while Emma deals with the cab driver. She asks for a receipt as though the Netizen is about to reimburse her for expenses all of a sudden. She bangs on the roof of the cab and it takes off, leaving the two of them next to swooping metal shaped into cursive LNH across the gates. When she turns to face him, Marco can't help hissing, "Vogons." "You're panicking over nothing, Marco." They turn toward the LNHQ, and that's when it happens. "Security measures," Emma says, loud enough that he's pretty sure she's trying to quell any coming panic attacks. A swarm of machines emerges from some hidden alcover in the gate posts and flies around them. Cameras shutter open and shut. Weird pink lights envelope them. After a moment, Emma digs around in her satchel and pulls out a laminated rectangular card and holds it up where the cameras can see it. They respond to the movement, clicking and whirring and turning as one to stare at her. Never mind that Marco is the one in the ridiculous costume with the turquoise tank-top and blue tights. The goggles. "Emma Dash," says Emma, clearly. "The Net.ropolis Netizen. This is my press pass." The machines hum and blink, turning toward each other before dispersing. The pair of them are left alone. After a moment, the gates creak and begin to swing open. Marco coughs. "You have a press pass?" Emma shrugs, then brushes past him to walk along the cobblestone walkway toward the main building. "It's a coffee card for that place down the block from the Netizen. You have to believe in the power of the media, Marco." "Bad-Poetry Boy," he says. "We're almost there. Don't they stick to code-names?" "If you call me 'Girl Reporter,' I will murder you." He's never been to the LNHQ before, but he's seen pictures. There are trading cards for some of the "special locations," like the Peril Room or the Cafeteria. There was at least one well-received but perplexing feature in Architectural Digest, although the writer's never been heard from since and there's an internet forum that grew out of the aftermath. Even still: the LNHQ doesn't look like he expects it to. He expected clean and white and expansive, clinical somehow. He wasn't expecting a lobby that looks like something out of a seedy 1950s hotel, with framed portraits of past leaders (Mostly Boy Lad and Ultimate Ninja, by various artists, though there is one wall by a sitting area with courtesy telephones where close to 500 tiny portraits have been lined up, too small to decipher from here). Emma has dropped back behind him, and she has her phone out, she's opening up the recorder app, and he knows that she's on the clock now, that she's a silent observer and he's on his own. Bad-Poetry Boy. Right. He crosses the lobby with its orange shag carpeting and carefully positioned vintage furniture and steps up to the reception desk, where an older woman -- close to his Tia's age, maybe -- is watching him over top of thin reading glasses. Her hair is piled high on her head, and there is a certain gaunt quality to her cheekbones. "Hello," she says. She's pert when she says it, but there's a certain underlying absence of enthusiasm. "Which is it?" "What?" "Are you here to join, or are you here to challenge somebody to a duel?" She clears her throat, and types something on the laptop in front of her without tearing her eyes away from him. "Unless you're here from a parallel Looniverse, maybe? Has your world just been destroyed? Sole survivors are instructed to go to the E wing--" "Joining!" Maybe that was too loud. Probably that was too loud. The woman watches him. Her hand hovers over a large red button inset into the desk. Something that looks suspiciously like a cartoonist's idea of a panic button. "Right," she says, and retracts her hand. She peers at him for a moment, and then shifts her attention to Emma, who is standing a good four feet behind him. "And does that go for you as well?" Emma holds up her hands -- without the coffee card, this time. "I'm media. I'm, ah." She clears her throat. "Net.ropolis Netizen." "Oh. Are we counting that as media, these days?" Marco is resolute about not laughing. The receptionist has turned her attention back toward him. "Fine. You're applying for membership with, ah, your PR manager." She shuffles around in the drawers beneath her desk until eventually she pulls up something that looks like a roulette wheel? Made from sleek plastic, with a golden arrow-pointer and little spherical planetoids above each wedge. All the colours of the rainbow. "This is the Membership Application Wheel," she says. Her voice has taken on an edge, like a narrator from a nature documentary. "There are dozens of ways a person can become a member of the Legion of Net.Heroes, and that doesn't count the ways that are less than savoury, like body-swapping or mystical pregnancy." Now that the wheel has been set up, Marco can see all the tiny options. "Maybe you'll have to fill out forms in quadruplicate. Maybe you'll have to face Ultimate Ninja in combat. Doc Stomper might assign you an audition mission. You might be asked to face a hideous Kirbian monster at the centre of our underground labyrinth, go on a date with Easily-Discovered Man Lite, or clean the Augean Stables. Sing-Along Lass could require you to perform from Les Mis, or there may be a vote by senior members of the Legion. Now, what's your name?" "Uh. Bad-Poetry Boy." Something shifts in her face. "Oh, that's funny. We voted in Sonnet Queen last week! She's a darling." Sonnet Queen? "Now, Legion bylaws require that I don't touch the roulette myself," says the receptionist. "Applicants must do so themselves. You are also required by law to disclose if you have any probability-altering or telekinetic abilities that might alter the outcome of the roulette. Failure to do so will result in being declared a Legion Traitor, followed by banishment to the Antimatter Looniverse of Thhhppp. Do you understand?" "I. Yes. I understand." Antimatter Looniverse? He turns to look back at Emma, who has on her Intrepid Reporter face, completely immune to shock. "And do you?" "Do I--?" He stares into the face of the receptionist, before it clicks. "Oh! No, no probability-altering powers. Or telekinesis. I just--" "Spin the arrow." Emma is watching. She's snapping a photo of the wheel with her phone, and then flipping the voice recorder back on. She's so intent. The whole thing feels doubly embarrassing, with the stupid costume (Goggles? Really?) and the sheer concentration Emma's devoting to this. He's read her articles and they have style, they have a certain enthusiasm that differs from the rote descriptions of detached horror that mark Clement Bogus's weird occult crime reports. She's the kind of reporter than should be jumping out of planes and narrowly escaping mummies. It feels strange to have her directing all of that energy at him. He doesn't really feel like Bad-Poetry Boy. But maybe that comes later. Maybe he's allowed to feel like pathetic Marco Ramirez right now, before he spins the wheel, before he gets his shot at the Legion of Net.Heroes. He got dumped two days ago and the closest thing he has to a job is an unpaid internship. But spin the arrow... He reaches out, and spins the arrow. It runs smoothly and quickly, clicking away as it hits every spoke, the tiny planetoids wiggling from the movement. He doesn't want to have to face Ultimate Ninja in battle, even in the Peril Room where (or so the trading cards say) death is ultimately meaningless. He doesn't know what the optimal outcome would be -- paperwork? Cleaning the stables the receptionist was talking about? (The LNH has stables?) Click, click, click-- (And he wonders what would happen if he recited something? If he leaned in and recited that haiku he wrote last summer, about the smell of ocean in Hovel Homes? Would the roulette wheel stop? Would it explode? Seventeen syllables, barely long enough to give anybody brain damage?) "Oh," says the receptionist. Marco's eyes are closed. When did he close his eyes? "That one's a classic! You're very lucky, I don't think he does that one as often anymore. Special Bonding Boy had some concerns about how the associated trauma would affect new members." Aw, crap. "Ultimate Ninja?" "The Membership Application Wheel responds to the thoughts of applicants, you know," says the receptionist, who sounds as though she's reading off the back of another one of those trading cards. "You must have been hoping to prove yourself in battle against the Ultimate Ninja." She presses a few stray keys and pushes a Bluetooth earpiece into her right ear. "Sally? This is Irma, down on the desk. Yes, we have a new member application. He spun -- yes, exactly. Five minutes? Wonderful." She looks back up at Marco then, and smiles. It is a less than hospitable smile, this time. "If you go along this corridor," she indicates to her right with a pair of manicured fingers. "You'll find your way to the Peril Room. Don't worry, it's impossible for you to get lost. You're only allowed to go to the Peril Room before there's a final decision." After that, she calls over his shoulder to Emma. "And you -- I'm afraid we don't let members of the media into the Peril Room. Doctor Stomper will be along shortly to deal with you." "What?" Emma rockets forward, almost pushing Marco out of the way. "Deal with me? Excuse me? I have every right to be here--" "This is private property, and media are required to follow certain rules when on the premises." The receptionist holds up a hand. "Doctor Stomper will be be along shortly to deal with you." Her eyes flick over to Marco. "And you should be on your way, young man. You absolutely don't want to keep Ultimate Ninja waiting." "I--" Marco pauses, looking across at Emma, who shrugs her shoulders. "Go." "But--" "Good luck. I'll deal with this." "Fine." Marco shrugs, and slinks past her. He doesn't look back, because he doesn't know what will happen if he looks back. He passes through a set of double doors off the lobby, and finds the hand-crafted detail of the lobby gives away to a kind of cold, science-fiction atmosphere in a long corridor, with touchscreens laid into the wall on either side. It is less like a hotel now and more like being on a spaceship. He hugged himself as he walked, no pockets to shove his hands in, and no idea where he was going. She said he would only be able to go to the Peril Room. He looks back -- the exit back to the lobby is gone? "It's fine," he says. "It's absolutely fine. The LNHQ does stuff like this. It's -- everybody knows it." He hopes Emma is all right. He doesn't want to meet Ultimate Ninja. He doesn't want to fight him. If he walks into the Peril Room and tries to use his super-power, what if it damages the Peril Room? What if the safety protocols go off line and he ends up with a Ginsu Katana through his throat? He drags his feet for a while. After about ten minutes of walking he looks up. He still hasn't passed a door, but then -- PERIL ROOM, reads the display overhead. A pair of gigantic mechanized doors. The computer panel next to the door chirps when he steps closer and an electronic voice buzzes: "Marco Ramirez, also known as Bad Poetry Boy." How did it know his full real name? He hadn't -- "Subject has access for ten minutes. Status: training mode. Current occupants: Ultimate Ninja." The voice halts after that, and the doors hum and grind as they open to reveal a vast white space. It's almost suffocating to look at. After a moment, a voice calls out: "You coming in?" Marco clears his throat and steps inside. "I was hoping my friend was going to be allowed to watch, at least," he says. "There's a reason there haven't been many exposes on the Legion." It is then that the Ultimate Ninja appears: tall and impossibly thin, dressed in jet black from head to toe, except for the red-white-and-blue belt. Marco's mouth goes dry. "We're very particular about who gets to walk around in the LNHQ without clearance. You learn after the first, oh, dozen or so secret traitors and saboteurs." "But applicants can just walk in?" Ultimate Ninja seems to ignore the question, and walks in a slow circle around Marco. "Ramirez, Marco. Listed as Bad-Poetry Boy. Just to confirm, you're not from the Oddball Looniverse, right? I can't remember who the Oddball version of Bad-Timing Boy was." "Uh. I was raised in Hovel Homes, sir. I've lived in Net.ropolis my entire life. I'm not -- I'm a real person, okay?" "Well, are any of us?" "Sir?" "First rule of the Legion of Net.Heroes, kid. Get used to metafiction." The Ultimate Ninja is carrying no obvious weapons. He's walking, step by step, never taking his eyes off Marco. "I can tell by the set of your jaw and the way you're holding your shoulders that you've heard of this particular method of joining the Legion. It used to be pretty popular in the old days, but methods vary. If you'd gotten 'Retcon,' we would have had to use a plot-device that would make it so that you'd always been a member. One of the founders, maybe. I don't have a lot of patience for that method, you understand. It's messy." (Messy like spilling blood everywhere because a ninja has just cut your head off?) "If Stomper was here, he'd want to give a long-winded speech describing the full nature of your powers, of course. He'd want to study what you can do so that it could be better catalogued in the Roster. He'd want strengths, weaknesses. He'd want to classify you as magical or scientific, whether or not you're an elemental -- all of that. I only care how long you'd last in battle with me. A Legionnaire never knows when they'll have to face a comrade. Could be from an evil Looniverse, or a clone, or mind control. Not to mention zombies." The Ultimate Ninja sighs, and it is long and strange and tired in a way that Marco never expected from someone purported to the deadliest Legionnaire ever imagined. "There have been several of me already." "You don't want to know my power?" "Half of us have no powers, you know that? Half of us are very gifted amateurs, or protected purely by Editorial Fiat." The Ultimate Ninja. "Half of us will never know real pain." Marco really, really wishes he'd gotten the paperwork. "Sir--" The Ultimate Ninja attacks. Marco hasn't got time to duck to the side before the Ninja has hit him with the butt of his hand, right in the nose. Marco stumbles backwards. From somewhere, the Ninja has pulled a long blade. Ginsu Katana. Marco has seen the commercials on late-night cable. They say only the Ultimate Ninja can use it to the full extent of its art. He's turning, and Marco opens his mouth and starts to recite that haiku, that stupid, terrible haiku-- The Ultimate Ninja shrieks something that sounds like "Basho," before slicing the edge of the blade right across Marco's throat. He only made it five syllables in, and now he's going to die like-- ... He's having an out-of-body experience. Marco stands next to the Ultimate Ninja, watching himself seize and sputter and gurgle while blood gushes out of his opened throat. His eyes -- well, the eyes of the Marco that is currently sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood -- have gone slack. Marco is biting into his bottom lip and watching himself die. "Am I dead?" He looks up at the Ultimate Ninja, who seems engrossed in the other Marco dying in front of them. "God, are you the Angel of Death too?" "Ending of the Finishless," says the Ultimate Ninja. He catches the look. "Ask Retcon Lad, some time. No. We conduct interviews in the Peril Room because it exists in a state of Temporal Grace; nobody dies permanently here." They both watch the other version of Marco convulse for a moment before he -- before Marco -- has to turn away. He can't pinpoint the moment when he stopped being the Marco on the floor and started being the Marco watching the Marco on the floor. The Ultimate Ninja cracks his knuckles. When Marco looks back, his other self is fading into the blankness of the Peril Room, like being overcome in a snowstorm. Even the blood is gone. Marco feels uncomfortable, like he can't breathe. "You almost managed to attack me," says the Ninja. "I would say you've earned yourself a probationary membership." "What, really?" "I mean, your name may give away too much about your powers, but we're hardly people to complaining about on-the-nose names." The Ninja pads over to the doors, where he taps on a touchscreen. "You'll be wondering about your friend, the reporter. She's with Doctor Stomper. I believe he's escorted her to the Mission Monitor Room. The corridor will guide you there. The Doctor will outfit you with a communicator badge and give you access to the computers. No WiFi password needed for Legionnaires. He'll brief you on what comes next." He pauses, and looks back at Marco, who must look shell-shocked, because the next thing out of his mouth is: "Sorry, the Ultimate Ninja doesn't do orientation." ===== CHARACTER CREDITS Bad-Poetry Boy (Marco Ramirez), Emma Dash, Clement Bogus and Sonnet Queen are owned by Ben Rawluk, copyright 2015. Irma the receptionist is a creation of Ben Rawluk as well, because I'm still sorting out the State of the Receptionist Union, but others are free to use her. Ultimate Ninja is the creation of wReam but still seems to be open for use (and still seems to be leader!). Doctor Vincent Stomper is the creation of T.M. Neeck, also open for use. AUTHOR'S NOTES There are a lot of different ways a net.hero can join the Legion. In some versions of Dashing Tales, I pretty much skipped over the audition process, but they always seem to be inevitable. The Membership Application Roulette Wheel is definitely open to anyone who wants to use it, and while I feel a little uncreative having it turn out to be a fight against UN (which sort of felt inevitable, based on Marco's anxiety), I'd never written a fight with the Ninja before and it is a classic trope, after all. I'm keeping these short so I can churn out a couple in sporadic heaps. Next time will focus pretty heavily on Emma with the possibility of an interlude or two, to break the "big long scene" vignette structure. From ben.rawluk at gmail.com Sun Aug 30 19:05:24 2015 From: ben.rawluk at gmail.com (Ben Rawluk) Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 19:05:24 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 In-Reply-To: References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: <860ac9b6-c3a7-411a-8e9c-1d2296e0f130@googlegroups.com> Thank you for the feedback, guys! I'm enjoying the opportunity to dig into the archives and see what has been happening while I've been gone. I'll probably post a couple short 'uns like this here and there as my brain feels like it. And yes, Saxon, I guess I am adhering to an old, familiar formula, a bit. I always enjoy a good Best Friends Squad? On Sunday, August 30, 2015 at 11:50:14 AM UTC-7, Andrew Perron wrote: > On 8/30/2015 1:46 PM, Dave Van Domelen wrote: > > In article <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6 at googlegroups.com>, > > Ben Rawluk wrote: > >> Then she looks at > >> Marco, who once caused a ten-block-radius brown-out with a villanelle. > > > > Well, no one's been actively tapping the They Might Be Powers lately.... > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMSUc2YjZ0k > > Niiiiiice. <3 > > > Dave Van Domelen, hopes the semester calms down enough soon for him to > > get back to writing fiction. > > Heck yes please. <3 > > Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, they might not be powers From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 31 01:51:40 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 31 Aug 2015 01:51:40 -0700 (PDT) Subject: SW10/TOF/WWW/HCC: Power-Star Comics 1984 #6: Saved by the Turtle! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: On 8/30/2015 7:07 PM, Scott Eiler wrote: > On 8/29/2015 1:16 AM, Andrew Perron wrote: > heh. I didn't intend it to be all home runs. I think I can safely say, Tommy > the Turtle is a subtle creature who does not just make everything perfect for > those who invoke him. But the batters are at least all hitting, and presumably > getting runners on base. I might modify that last batter to get that home run, > though. That's fair. Like, the first time I saw it it took a moment for me to realize that, yes, they were hitting the balls, not missing them. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, slowly overcoming limitations From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 31 01:51:43 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 31 Aug 2015 01:51:43 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #1 In-Reply-To: <860ac9b6-c3a7-411a-8e9c-1d2296e0f130@googlegroups.com> References: <7dae3710-9404-4b04-8e58-d8e98e46a0c6@googlegroups.com> <860ac9b6-c3a7-411a-8e9c-1d2296e0f130@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/30/2015 10:05 PM, Ben Rawluk wrote: >Thank you for the feedback, guys! I'm enjoying the opportunity to dig into > the archives and see what has been happening while I've been gone. I'll > probably post a couple short 'uns like this here and there as my brain feels > like it. Very good. <3 (and yes may I recommend Just Another Multi-Writer Cascade That Will Probably Never Have an Ending, yes good) >And yes, Saxon, I guess I am adhering to an old, familiar formula, a bit. I > always enjoy a good Best Friends Squad? I'm good with this! <3 It's a pretty flexible formula, after all. Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, man, *another* issue already! From pwerdna at gmail.com Mon Aug 31 19:12:20 2015 From: pwerdna at gmail.com (Andrew Perron) Date: Mon, 31 Aug 2015 19:12:20 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #2 In-Reply-To: <156c8dcb-7a8a-4245-ac39-f2ca27496bcd@googlegroups.com> References: <156c8dcb-7a8a-4245-ac39-f2ca27496bcd@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/30/2015 10:04 PM, Ben Rawluk wrote: > DASHING TALES, episode the second, > "Auditioning for an Off-Baudway Play," Heeheehee. > The swim goggles dig into his face and he doesn't know where to look; the > statues of Legionnaires make his anxiety spike, and there are so many of > them. They're tall and golden but the metal's been tarnished by weather and > Marco doesn't recognize half of them. Legionnaires who are long-dead or > disappeared or retconned out of existence. Legionnaires conjured out of > nothing. And then there's the Ultimate Ninja. He definitely recognizes the > Ultimate Ninja. "I don't think this was a good idea, Em." Augh. Such good setting-setting. > "So you don't think -- I mean, you don't think my super-power is too stupid?" Cheesecake-Eater Lad-- >"Cheesecake-Eater Lad has made a very successful career out of being very > good at making cheesecake. And eating cheesecake." Yeah, that! <3 >"And they won't think I'm a villain? It's not, like -- it's kind of a > destructive power." I mean, Rogue became one of the X-Men back in the '80s, it's pretty common by now. >"I'm not freaking out about Steve!" Oh god. He should never have said > anything. It seemed so, so theoretical, when the words came out of his mouth > back on the rooftop of the Netizen, looking out over the city. Maybe I should > join up, he'd said. It was supposed to be a joke, but somehow they live in a > world where joining the Legion of Net.Heroes is a reasonable back-up plan for > failing at poetry. But really, this is Emma's fault. They're only doing this > so that-- Haha, yeah, I've been in this thoughtloop @-@ >The cab leaves them at the front gates of the LNHQ, the golden statues of the > Avenue giving way to an extensive lawn and front garden that looks like it's > seen better days -- scarred and smashed by the latest cataclysmic battle, no > doubt This is just such an interesting portrayal of the LNHQ overall. (I usually imagine it opening right onto the sidewalk.) > "Security measures," Emma says, loud enough that he's pretty sure she's > trying to quell any coming panic attacks. A swarm of machines emerges from > some hidden alcover in the gate posts and flies around them. Cameras shutter > open and shut. Weird pink lights envelope them. Ooooo. Ahhhhh. > Marco coughs. "You have a press pass?" > >Emma shrugs, then brushes past him to walk along the cobblestone walkway > toward the main building. "It's a coffee card for that place down the block > from the Netizen. Heeheeheehee. > You have to believe in the power of the media, Marco." > >"Bad-Poetry Boy," he says. "We're almost there. Don't they stick to > code-names?" > > "If you call me 'Girl Reporter,' I will murder you." :D > There was at least one well-received but perplexing feature in Architectural > Digest, although the writer's never been heard from since and there's an > internet forum that grew out of the aftermath. *cackles* > He wasn't expecting a lobby that looks like something out of a seedy 1950s > hotel, Now I'm imagining the interview segments of The Grand Budapest Hotel. > with framed portraits of past leaders (Mostly Boy Lad and Ultimate > Ninja, by various artists, though there is one wall by a sitting area with > courtesy telephones where close to 500 tiny portraits have been lined up, too > small to decipher from here). Oh man. VERY nice. <3 > He crosses the lobby with its orange shag carpeting and carefully positioned > vintage furniture and steps up to the reception desk, where an older woman -- > close to his Tia's age, maybe -- is watching him over top of thin reading > glasses. Her hair is piled high on her head, and there is a certain gaunt > quality to her cheekbones. Oooo, I wonder which receptionist this is. Has Crystal ever been described? >Emma holds up her hands -- without the coffee card, this time. "I'm media. > I'm, ah." She clears her throat. "Net.ropolis Netizen." > > "Oh. Are we counting that as media, these days?" > > Marco is resolute about not laughing. Heh heh heh. > She shuffles around in the drawers beneath her desk until eventually she > pulls up something that looks like a roulette wheel? Made from sleek plastic, > with a golden arrow-pointer and little spherical planetoids above each wedge. > All the colours of the rainbow. "This is the Membership Application Wheel," > she says. Her voice has taken on an edge, like a narrator from a nature > documentary. "There are dozens of ways a person can become a member of the > Legion of Net.Heroes, and that doesn't count the ways that are less than > savoury, like body-swapping or mystical pregnancy." Now that the wheel has > been set up, Marco can see all the tiny options. "Maybe you'll have to fill > out forms in quadruplicate. Maybe you'll have to face Ultimate Ninja in > combat. Doc Stomper might assign you an audition mission. You might be asked > to face a hideous Kirbian monster at the centre of our underground labyrinth, > go on a date with Easily-Discovered Man Lite, or clean the Augean Stables. > Sing-Along Lass could require you to perform from Les Mis, or there may be a > vote by senior members of the Legion. Now, what's your name?" Holy crap. The sheer density of reference and fun in this paragraph. <3 > Failure to do so will result in being declared a Legion Traitor, followed by > banishment to the Antimatter Looniverse of Thhhppp. Do you understand?" AAAAAAA. <3 >The whole thing feels doubly embarrassing, with the stupid costume (Goggles? > Really?) Hey, goggles are rad! > She's the kind of reporter than should be jumping out of planes and narrowly > escaping mummies. It feels strange to have her directing all of that energy > at him. Awwwwww. <3 > He doesn't really feel like Bad-Poetry Boy. But maybe that comes later. Maybe > he's allowed to feel like pathetic Marco Ramirez right now, before he spins > the wheel, before he gets his shot at the Legion of Net.Heroes. He got dumped > two days ago and the closest thing he has to a job is an unpaid internship. Awwwwww! HUGS FOR ALL. >(And he wonders what would happen if he recited something? If he leaned in > and recited that haiku he wrote last summer, about the smell of ocean in > Hovel Homes? Would the roulette wheel stop? Would it explode? Seventeen > syllables, barely long enough to give anybody brain damage?) Man, you totally shoulda done it, Marco > "Oh," says the receptionist. Marco's eyes are closed. When did he close his > eyes? "That one's a classic! You're very lucky, I don't think he does that > one as often anymore. Special Bonding Boy had some concerns about how the > associated trauma would affect new members." > > Aw, crap. Bwa-ha-ha. A classic! > She presses a few stray keys and pushes a Bluetooth earpiece into her right > ear. "Sally? This is Irma, down on the desk. Ahhhhh, a new one! <3 >"What?" Emma rockets forward, almost pushing Marco out of the way. "Deal > with me? Excuse me? I have every right to be here--" > >"This is private property, and media are required to follow certain rules > when on the premises." Aha! How oddly sensible. >"Fine." Marco shrugs, and slinks past her. He doesn't look back, because he > doesn't know what will happen if he looks back. I think she gets sucked into the underworld and gets to interview Hades. >He doesn't want to meet Ultimate Ninja. He doesn't want to fight him. If he > walks into the Peril Room and tries to use his super-power, what if it > damages the Peril Room? What if the safety protocols go off line and he ends > up with a Ginsu Katana through his throat? We can probably fix it. <3 >PERIL ROOM, reads the display overhead. A pair of gigantic mechanized doors. > The computer panel next to the door chirps when he steps closer and an > electronic voice buzzes: "Marco Ramirez, also known as Bad Poetry Boy." How > did it know his full real name? He hadn't -- "Subject has access for ten > minutes. Status: training mode. Current occupants: Ultimate Ninja." The voice > halts after that, and the doors hum and grind as they open to reveal a vast > white space. It's almost suffocating to look at. SO COOL. >"There's a reason there haven't been many exposes on the Legion." It is then > that the Ultimate Ninja appears: tall and impossibly thin, dressed in jet > black from head to toe, except for the red-white-and-blue belt. Marco's mouth > goes dry. "We're very particular about who gets to walk around in the LNHQ > without clearance. You learn after the first, oh, dozen or so secret traitors > and saboteurs." You are making him really cool here - an excellent balance of "gruff" and "weary" and "straightforward". > The Ultimate Ninja sighs, and it is long and strange and tired in a way that > Marco never expected from someone purported to the deadliest Legionnaire ever > imagined. "There have been several of me already." SEE?? >"Half of us have no powers, you know that? Half of us are very gifted > amateurs, or protected purely by Editorial Fiat." The Ultimate Ninja. "Half > of us will never know real pain." AAAAAAAAA. SO GOOD. > "God, are you the Angel of Death too?" > >"Ending of the Finishless," says the Ultimate Ninja. He catches the look. > "Ask Retcon Lad, some time. Too many good appropriate references *falls over frothing* > They both watch the other version of Marco convulse for a moment before he -- > before Marco -- has to turn away. He can't pinpoint the moment when he > stopped being the Marco on the floor and started being the Marco watching the > Marco on the floor. That is such an incredibly best way to put it. >He pauses, and looks back at Marco, who must look shell-shocked, because the > next thing out of his mouth is: "Sorry, the Ultimate Ninja doesn't do > orientation." Augh. Holy crap this was so good. You've communicated stuff with deceptive ease that I still haven't figured out how to get across. > There are a lot of different ways a net.hero can join the Legion. In some > versions of Dashing Tales, I pretty much skipped over the audition process, > but they always seem to be inevitable. The Membership Application Roulette > Wheel is definitely open to anyone who wants to use it, and while I feel a > little uncreative having it turn out to be a fight against UN (which sort of > felt inevitable, based on Marco's anxiety), I'd never written a fight with > the Ninja before and it is a classic trope, after all. Yeah! It worked REALLY well. <3 >I'm keeping these short so I can churn out a couple in sporadic heaps. Next > time will focus pretty heavily on Emma with the possibility of an interlude > or two, to break the "big long scene" vignette structure. (This is "keeping it short"? Wow.) Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, holy crap, this is basically going to be my new go-to "what the LNH is" thing, I think From seiler at eilertech.com Mon Aug 31 19:16:24 2015 From: seiler at eilertech.com (Scott Eiler) Date: Mon, 31 Aug 2015 19:16:24 -0700 (PDT) Subject: LNH: Dashing Tales #2 In-Reply-To: <156c8dcb-7a8a-4245-ac39-f2ca27496bcd@googlegroups.com> References: <156c8dcb-7a8a-4245-ac39-f2ca27496bcd@googlegroups.com> Message-ID: On 8/30/2015 7:04 PM, Ben Rawluk wrote: > Marco feels uncomfortable, like he can't breathe. > > "You almost managed to attack me," says the Ninja. "I would say > you've earned yourself a probationary membership." > > "What, really?" > > "I mean, your name may give away too much about your powers, but > we're hardly people to complaining about on-the-nose names." heh. This is the sort of intro-to-the-LNH comic I'd intended to write with Clueless Lad. Only, he wound up in LNH20, he's in stasis, and I'm not sure breaking him out would be any improvement... Anyway, I'm enjoying this. -- (signed) Scott Eiler 8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ --------- When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama I know. - Archie Andrews - from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons.