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Post by KC11 on Oct 7, 2007 20:14:50 GMT
Hm. I was wondering, if maybe my "Death" scene could be brought on because I tried to go back to Malurine, even though I knew it was destroyed. Such as, I wanted to see how it had become? So, somehow, I open a warp, but I don't say a command right. The warp glows red, then sucks me in as I scream with pain.
Then my lifeless body is spat out right where everyone can see, my soul having been removed painfully from my body.
Dramatic and Grusome. Yup.
That was just my idea though.
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 10, 2007 4:50:32 GMT
Malurien isn't destroyed. Do you mean Imperial Albia? Don't worry about the gruesomeness, DM is a gory story. When I upload part two I'm putting a sign that says R13 on its page.
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Sfot
Major
Mistress of the Realm of Over There!
Posts: 463
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Post by Sfot on Oct 10, 2007 17:07:03 GMT
Out of pure intrest, how big a part does Sfot play in DM2? It's something that's been nagging me for a while.
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 11, 2007 6:40:17 GMT
You can actually go in DM3 if you want to, because then you'll get to be in charge of the army of Unsent that help Danny, Jynx, Dusky, etc, kick -3's butt That includes Unsent Duke, who keeps falling apart and having to spray pesticide all over himself to kill the flies X3
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Sfot
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Mistress of the Realm of Over There!
Posts: 463
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Post by Sfot on Oct 11, 2007 16:58:24 GMT
Sfot wasn't exactly unsent, she just... woke up one day dead. To send her would potentialy destory her, due to the fact she's so tied to her body. It would be like sending a live person.
Okay, now I can just imagine Sfot constantly E-mailing Maraha throughout DM2 about she's doing, with little bits of adive and one cheering about how she beat Technus hands down at some game or other. XD
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Post by Savverz on Oct 11, 2007 20:26:51 GMT
Okay, now I can just imagine Sfot constantly E-mailing Maraha throughout DM2 about she's doing, with little bits of adive and one cheering about how she beat Technus hands down at some game or other. XD "What's that? You did!? THAT ROCKS! MUAHAHAHA! In your face, Technus!"
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Post by KC11 on Oct 12, 2007 0:41:46 GMT
Malurien isn't destroyed. Do you mean Imperial Albia? Don't worry about the gruesomeness, DM is a gory story. When I upload part two I'm putting a sign that says R13 on its page. Oh. Yup. Imperial Albia. >.<
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 12, 2007 6:35:22 GMT
Yes, that would work. (both directed at KC and sfot) Oh, I fixed up Aaron's final hour as well. Is this better? --------- Danny and Aaron had been working together extremely well, decimating a large chunk of the enemy forces. Aaron shot at enemies far away while Danny slaughtered those who came too close. “Aaron, get that shadow!” Danny yelled as an indistinct form above them screeched and went into a dive straight at them. Aaron notched an arrow, one that was tipped with green flames thanks to Danny, and shot the thing right out of the sky. However, they both stopped when bad vibes gave them the shivers. “Hello, Aaron.” Yllamar appeared behind Aaron, voice cold and face marred by a fierce smile. Aaron snarled ferociously and drew his hunting knife. “You! I’ll kill you, I’ll…” “Aaron!” Danny said urgently and tossed some green energy to Aaron. The Grenorn caught the bundle of flames easily and spread it on the blade of his knife, giving the weapon an extra bite. He turned on Yllamar and crouched like a tiger ready to pounce. Yllamar glared at Aaron, sizing him up, calculating his weaknesses, wielding a knife of her own. Danny stepped forward to help, but Aaron shook his head without taking his eyes off the knife glinting in Yllamar’s hand. “No Danny, I want to do this on my own!” Danny backed away, head down like a puppy that has been scolded. “I’m ending this now!” Aaron hissed through his teeth and leapt forward, knife glowing ghostly green. Yllamar laughed and parried his attack with her knife. “This is too easy. I thought you were a great hunter, not a pathetic, manic-depressive with a knife too big for him.” Aaron’s eyes narrowed in rage, the left eyelid twitching. He slashed again, and after that moment his one on one duel became a flurry of slashes, a desperate fight for survival. “After I kill you Aaron, I’ll kill your friends. Every. Last. One.” Yllamar smiled evilly, her gaze flickering in Danny’s direction. Danny clenched his fists angrily. ‘Oh no you won’t’ he thought. Aaron roared and lunged, a more clumsy and uncoordinated attack because of his anger. Yllamar yelled in triumph, her taunts achieving the effect she wanted, and knifed Aaron in the throat as he staggered past. “NO!” Danny yelled, eyes flaring red, and leaped at Yllamar in fury, but she had already sprouted wings and flown away. Danny knelt, crying, beside the choking and coughing Aaron, clutching his scaly hand and watching his life ebb away. “Danny…. find Faye… find Draconorn… tell….” Aaron gasped, eyes going misty. “No…. this can’t be…” Danny choked, tears pouring down his cheeks. Aaron smiled weakly. “Cheer up… you kick Yllamar’s scrawny butt for me.” The hand that Danny was holding went limp and Aaron’s hazel eyes stared unseeingly at the sky. With an anguished yell, Danny jumped up and went intangible, fading through the conflict to carry out Aaron’s last wish.
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Post by Grendel Man on Oct 12, 2007 23:49:32 GMT
Yep, that's better. :-)
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Post by Officer 1BDI on Oct 13, 2007 5:29:14 GMT
I don't remember reading the original version of that death scene, but I think you did a great job at making it impactful, Draconorn.
And as long as we're checking scenes....
This is an early scene from that Arcadia story I've posted about before. For some reason I wanted to establish that all of PF and Ale's children tend to look like PF, and for some more inane reason this is the conversation I came up with.
So, my question is: does the following conversation sound really, um, "contrived," or is it ok to you guys? Is there anything you'd change? Keep in mind Eiffle (and Paris) are the nornish equivallent of 4 years old in this story, so I'm hoping stupid questions like the ones he's asking aren't too out there.
Incidentally, PF is really fun to write for when he's not snapping at me in my head.
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 13, 2007 5:58:05 GMT
That's cool! It sounds great, nothing wrong with it. As much as I hate little kids, they always sound cute when they ask stupid questions X3
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Sfot
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Mistress of the Realm of Over There!
Posts: 463
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Post by Sfot on Oct 14, 2007 9:40:40 GMT
*nods* Little kids ask tonns of weird stuff at times.
*sighs* Now I can picture Sfot, in charge of this army of unsent, deciding to get them into shape by forcing them to dance "Thriller" until they can all go for like five minutes without one step wrong. xD
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 15, 2007 7:45:46 GMT
XD They're all dead anyway, so they don't get tired. They have an annoying habit of losing body parts, though. So while they're dancing arms, legs, hands, etc would be flying everywhere. *laughs as she pictures it*
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Sfot
Major
Mistress of the Realm of Over There!
Posts: 463
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Post by Sfot on Oct 15, 2007 15:51:39 GMT
She shall get them specialy crafted armor that shall stop stuff like that happening, 'cos the gloves and stuff shall ge held on with magnets or something, and she won't need a specialy made suit as her bodt holds together as if it was living.
And she doesn't bleed.
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Post by Grendel Man on Oct 21, 2007 4:36:03 GMT
Yet another character you can use for DM if you want, Drac. You may have heard of TheBlackSoul, referred to here as my "alter ego." In reality, TBS is just GM with a different username. However, character-wise, the two have almost nothing in common, other than being grendel to a point (TBS's profile can be read here. He is character #1. If TBS and GM show up in the same story, however, they are two seperate people, rather than being two sides of the same character. GM is a schemer, a fighter, and a warlord. TBS, while not having the most pleasant of personalities, is good at heart and is more likely to aid the heroes than the villians. So...yeah. Edit: 2000 posts at last.
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Post by Draconorn on Oct 21, 2007 7:54:46 GMT
I don't know what I'm doing with DM now, I think I'll get some of my proper book done then write DM3.
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Post by Grendel Man on Nov 19, 2007 23:37:10 GMT
I've a nagging thought for a long time:
With all of this talk of DM 3, I want to know just how big GM's rule is in the story. He's supposed to be the major villian after Yllamar's death, now what becomes of him?
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Post by Draconorn on Nov 20, 2007 1:30:03 GMT
I'm not sure if you'll be in DM3 as a character, but you definately get a mention because Danny stumbles across a run down shrine that contains a statue of a Grendel/moth... You're a character in DM2 for sure, you'll probably pop up in DM4 and you're definately in DM5 as one of the main antagonists. But in DM5 you'll probably end up either dying, getting locked away in Nowhere somewhere (that didn't make sense) or realizing that what you've done is wrong and you end up being on the good side. Or some fourth ending that I've forgotten.
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Post by Grendel Man on Nov 21, 2007 4:41:47 GMT
DM 5 is the final battle, I assume?
In that case, GM would probably remain a little bit evil, but after being proven what was wrong he'd change sides.
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Post by KC11 on Nov 21, 2007 22:31:57 GMT
I'd like a bit of review on this part of a chapter I am writing in another story. I'm just wondering if it is a little too cliche. The story is called Edodus. This is only a part of the first chapter.:
Chapter 1
Rain fell past the dirty, yellowed windows of the Grentch Children’s Home for Lost and Troubled Children. Behind these dirtied windows lay several beds, with cold metal skeletons and old, moth eaten mattresses with many springs, some springs poking out at odd ends.
In these beds lay children. These children varied in ages from 6 to 16. All of them had different thoughts, different feelings, and were altogeather different. But in the darkness of the room, where they each wore the same pajamas as a uniform, they looked almost like clones, varying only in size.
In bed number 5 lay a boy. This boy was about 11 or so years in age. He had sandy colored hair that looked oddly chopped at the ends, and had a prominent nose that, if he was a prouder boy, he would display proudly, with his head held high.
But many years of living in the Grentch home had made him humble and meek, as well as the fact that he just was humble and meek to start with. He had rarely whined as a baby, had never spoken to adults unless spoken to first, and didn’t like to join in any games unless invited first.
This boy, who had been here in the home for as long as he could remember, and to him that was as long as the stars had hung in the sky, was called Edodus.
Edodus, as Mrs Grentch, the home owner, told him, had been found sitting in an alleyway when he was very young, about 2 or so. He had been found eating a piece of paper, which was later taken from him and looked at. The note said this:
To whom it may concern,
I am rather happy that you have decided to pick up my son. On account of a strange turn of events, I have been unable to care for him any longer. His name is Edodus, and has always been thus, so changing it will not do any good for him, because he will only come when his true name is said.
Do not throw away this paper. Give it to him as a reminder of us, his dearest parents. One day we hope to see him again. But that day may be very far from now.
Edodus kept the letter in his pocket all the time. Whenever he was alone, he would look at it. He felt that if he looked at it when someone was around, they would take it from him. And that would be a true disaster.
Edodus always hid whenever someone looking to adopt came. On occasion, he would look at whoever was coming. But he felt no warmth, no happiness, as they walked in, and so he knew that it wasn’t his mother or father, and he would hide.
Once or twice, Mr and Mrs Grentch tried to get Edodus to greet the adopter, but Edodus would always throw a great fit and act truly troubled and abused. No one wanted a child like that. So they always passed him by.
This was all very well for Edodus. He was waiting for his parents, after all. He refused to be called by any other name than his own, or to be the child of any other couple than his own parents. He knew he would see his parents again someday. And so, for 9 years, Edodus waited.
This night, Edodus lay in his bed. He had just turned 11 today. There wasn’t a great celebration. Just a few “Happy Birthdays” from people who didn’t really care, and a brownie from Mrs. Grentch. Edodus was still wide awake, not eager to go to sleep.
He dug in his pocket until he found his piece of paper, and he began to read it again. He sighed. Oh, how he waited for the day when his parents would return and claim him!
Or had they already?
Had they taken the wrong person? Edodus’s face lost his color as he thought of it. Had they gone to the wrong home and taken another boy of his name?
He sighed. That could never happen. There was no other boy named Edodus that lived within 100 miles of here, and he doubted that anyone in America had his name. His parents could never make a mistake. He supposed that was why he had been called Edodus, rather than something more common like Tom or Bobby.
He was now tired. The words he read seemed to sing him to sleep. He slowly put the letter back in his pocket, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
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