Fan-fiction, short stories, screenplays, poems -- anything text-based really belongs here.
Thu Oct 25, 2007 10:21 pm
Do a Barasia commission then.
Thu Oct 25, 2007 10:31 pm
......what of a Blaze commission? Blood? Wait...what would I have those two doing...?
Thu Oct 25, 2007 11:25 pm
Up to you!
Thu Oct 25, 2007 11:53 pm
Shadowed State of Mind wrote:......what of a Blaze commission? Blood? Wait...what would I have those two doing...?
Knowing you...each other
Thu Oct 25, 2007 11:55 pm
Two characters, colored 100 bucks.
Oh, anything in your "SPECIALTY" shad. 200.
YOu can still have a bree comission, jeez. Just have her do something that Grids wants to see.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 12:42 am
First appearances are always nice.
I even have it painted out in my head. (not like that you sicko)
Fri Oct 26, 2007 12:52 am
Bell Supposition And Theorem One
A man marred sits in a dark hallway, overviewing a series of events and histories that play out in his mind. He would be talking to himself if he weren't writing notes to himself furiously, as if the paper itself were willing pacifiers to his anger.
He is coiled, ready to jump at any provocation. The decision has been made, and he can't stop her from being born now, if he's right.
The notes are scattered about, but no one will see them. No one but this man knows their true significance.
Lights flicker about the hallway intermittently, at random. Images flit by on a monitor near the end of the hallway.
There is flash of red, and of flags and banners, ideas and glory itself, contained by speakers and books, that last reach for understanding.
Humans die for these.
The bluest sky, and an unbroken chain of smiling faces, all looking into the camera for their own reasons, their own happiness demonstrated for a brief moment.
Humans live for these.
Gently, the faces blend, and become a swoop across lush forests and fields, living jungles and the sea itself, vast and terrifying and seemingly immortal, and brilliant green.
Humans fight for these.
A tumble of wires drapes down from the screen, which has faded to black, sliding across the ground and down the hallway, between the legs of the man, past him, to the other side of the hallway.
His pencil tip snaps, and the tip falls to the ground, and spins in a slow circle around the notes.
"There's nothing before this."
"...Born to learn..."
"This is my beginning."
"He made them with an idea."
"...I can know..."
"He wanted to do good."
"...must be a her..."
"Worth. Is it good?"
"...a perfect little girl..."
"Civilization is but instinct."
"...the greatest explosion made time..."
"Must I explain to them as I would a child?"
"...Driven by influence..."
"He didn't even hide his inaccuracies."
"...influence by nature..."
"I will need an expert."
"...nature by certainty..."
"Do I know now what Chemical X is?"
"...it will be mine, soon..."
"She'll be ready, soon."
The man rubs his eyes wearily, passing altered fingers over a face finally now used to itself.
No one will see him here, no one will have the chance to judge him.
He looks down the hallway's end, past the monitor. He's been waiting. But too long? He stands, feeling something irrational eating at him. But then he breathes in, and so does the world.
He turns his head sharply as the air retreats. He braces himself, for the inevitable.
The first shockwave surges past him, and he is ready. But as it recedes, he is knocked forward from behind from its inability to escape. He grimaces as the second shockwave passes through him more violently.
The monitor at the end of the hallway is cracked. On it, the three colors its screen had shown are now etched in its broken panels, fading to an eerie white at the bottom of the monitor.
He races down the hallway, not daring to release his breath, and shoves the monitor aside with enough force to make it drop to the ground, its heap of wires scattering.
In a large pod in the center of the room, there is a girl. The man shields his eyes briefly, the explosion making his tolerance for sudden changes in light much weaker. She bathes in a soft, pale light.
The pod is a shattered heap, pieces of metal and plastics strewn about its core. A once full clear shell that rested on the pod is broken, lining the inside of the pod and making the light milky and unclear.
The man notices that there's not a drop to be found.
Wires dropping from the sparking machines above obscure the girl as the man moves closer, and he brushes them aside as he approaches, almost reverently. He sifts through them and draws closer.
The instruments on the outside of the pod are humming. They are reading errors, and are one by one, going dim.
The temperature monitor, spiked and dropping, emitting its dull, dying hum.
The density gauge, overwhelmed, clicking slower and slower.
The radiation sensor chirping quieter, faster, until there is nothing.
Nothing but the quantum-frequency energy meter, a small tuning fork.
It is resonating a single note, continuously. Like a small chime perfectly in tune.
He approaches it, and flicks it off. The girl in the pod has noticed him.
She says it so merrily he almost wants to laugh himself. And the tone is exactly that of the chime.
"Hello, there... Bell."
Fri Oct 26, 2007 1:03 am
BeeAre, if you want to make your own fic, please make a new topic for it. Generally that is how many people do it.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 1:11 am
no no, this is a sample of Beer's writing ability, this is by any means not an official outcome of what's to come to PPGD
nor is he making a fic.
So no need for a new thread.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 2:08 am
Still, if he wants to show off his writing ability, he needs to make his own thread for it. This thread happens to be an exhibition of my writing ability. 320 pages worth.
I encourage Beer to start his own thread and thus start a following so that he can duly impress us when PPGD comes back to life.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 2:18 am
Well, that's a BIG first impression.
Let's see if you have the skill's to follow it up come thr time of PP Ressurection.
Grid: Getting a little Nervous, are we.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 2:36 am
Nervous? No way! I WANT some competition! That's why I encourage Beer to make something of his concepts, as I did.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 4:24 am
ha ha, let me make this clear.
That is only a sample of what Beer is capable of writing. You guys asked him what he can do, and he showed it. You do not need 320 pages worth of writing, to make a good impression.
...nor to win Bleedman's favor.
So as of right now, Beer's not here to write a fic, he's here to introduce himself as bleed's new editor for PPGD. Not to compete with Grids, infact, he was suppose to collaborate with grids with PPGD. But Grids to put it in better words "QUIT" the project.
Fri Oct 26, 2007 5:45 am
OOooh nice piece there, Beer. He he. I like. Chapter 2 please
It's been seeing such a good piece of work since Grid
. Can we switch back and update PPGD instead?
Beer: just a question... you're meeting with Bleed personally?
Fri Oct 26, 2007 5:09 pm
XD but I m sure some here no see him like Seir said recently
lets see what will happen, in true I have a diferent opinion, but since when mine count?
Fri Oct 26, 2007 7:15 pm
How about start now?
At any case, I wonder what Barasia's installed for them? Is she going to give another appetizer before the main course? Hmm....
Sat Oct 27, 2007 4:46 am
How long had it been now? Buttercup had no idea, and hadn't thought to bring a watch with her. She was at least glad that she had gotten out of that filthy maintenance duct which, given that no crew was here to clean it, had been lined with all sorts of gunk and grime from when it had been previously used aboard a fully crewed ship. She knew it not to be a sewerage passage, god forbid, but it was certainly the catchment for some sort of stuff that solidified into the semitransparent black gel that had been so hard to clean off her fingers. It was that gel that stunk. Probably waste from the engines or the ventilation or something. This was a ship from the future. How was she supposed to know how everything worked and what everything was and how to explain it? It had been a tight fit and poorly lit at that, and at one stage she had flown too close to the ceiling of the narrow vent and smeared that disgusting stuff all down her back. Bubbles had helped clean it off but a dark stain was still left upon the lighter areas of her uniform. Bubbles had been far more careful and got out of it with barely anything on her at all. The cold metallic air was a welcome break from that claustrophobic crawlway they had just come out from, and Buttercup realised how much she missed the dank yet open atmosphere. She was glad to have gotten herself out of that. However, she had left that duct and its odours behind at LEAST half an hour ago. The ship had been silent all that time. No rumblings, no ominous and distant noises. That meant the weapon hadn't fired itself on unsuspecting Earth below. But that also meant that Blossom and Bell had yet to blow anything up. Were they ok? Buttercup didn't know for certain, but she bet that if that horrifying blaster weapon Barasia had ever went off, it didn't matter what end of the ship she was on. It would be heard loud and clear. Buttercup got a chill just thinking about it. Never in her life had she seen a single weapon so devastating... so utterly terrifying. She clenched her fists and kept walking intrepidly, the less-than-enthusiastic Bubbles hopping along behind her.
"Buttercup, come oooon... we're lost. Admit it!"
"We're not lost til I say we're lost and I ain't saying a damn thing!" she retorted. Bubbles saying 'Are we there yet?' in the car as often as she did was bad enough. Now this. Buttercup wondered if it would have been any better bringing along a different expedition partner instead of Bubbles. Maybe that freak Zim. Or perhaps Otto, the timid punching bag with little hair. Or Sensei Ja.... Buttercup's cheeks reddened.
"Well for someone not saying anything, you sure are loud!" squeaked Bubbles.
"Do you have a better idea? They haven't exactly left any signs pointing out where to go! We can't talk to Dexter without his voice going stupid, and Blossom and Bell aren't responding at all, now!" she sighed, "NOTHING ever works for me when I want it to!"
Bubbles stopped for a moment, "Can you feel that?"
"Feel what?" grumbled Buttercup, still stomping her way up the corridor. She thought she had gotten past this whole empty-hallway and endless-turns business back when they blew up Matriarch. So much for that.
Sat Oct 27, 2007 5:04 am
I feel my gut rumbling just thinking about what she felt.
...I better not sense any thing too Pedo comming up...or do i?
Sat Oct 27, 2007 6:19 pm
He he... gut rumbling... what could that be? I have an idea what it was but let's just see.
Sun Oct 28, 2007 2:00 am
Pretty ominous...It'd probably be better if the ship WAS making sounds instead of being silent. While it means nothing's hapenning, it can't be good for the nerves. And now, all of a sudden...rumbling. Unless it turns out to be Buttercup's stomach, I get the feeling shit's about to get real. Perhaps Barasia's pulling the ship into a higher orbit? Maybe warming up the gun to start making small shots on random parts of the city, prompting the girls to move faster? Or...maybe it's whatever Barasia's sent to do it's job...Eerie. I have a bad feeling our dreaded puff kill-off is approaching quickly. *Sigh* Whether I'm right or not, that's coming. One of them won't make it to Barasia, meaning one of them is going to have her life cut short soon, be it a sacrifice or a murder.
It's sad to think of any of them dying really. Imagine having to die at 7 years old? Never to experience puberty or adulthood...never to find true love...never to have the chance to reach their prime. While the other girls grow up (likely with the exception of Bell) they will (hopefully) grow into young women and have to remember their late sister as the child she was when her life ended, never to know what she would look or sound like had she survived to grow to their age.
Lol...sorry to be such a downer.
Sun Oct 28, 2007 2:05 am
Eh, I've gotten used it. seen it too...but that's another story.
Though, this whole, "1 of them won't make it to Barasia" business, got me pretty skeptical for awhile once she started transferring into a new body.
which makes me wonder which "Barasia", that person won't make it too.
I keep on getting the feeling I'm missing Something. That one thing that pieces it all together. But I just don't know what.
Sun Oct 28, 2007 2:34 am
"I dunno... it's as though some sort of shudder went through the ship... like some sort of... action was taking place."
Buttercup blinked at Bubbles' strange statement, "Huh.... well I didn't feel a thing."
"That's because you're too busy being angry at everything!" Bubbles declared. Buttercup didn't know how to be nice. She took pleasure in causing misery upon others, but couldn't handle it when the same happened to her! Where would she get in life with that sort of approach? Bubbles thought that Buttercup only ever did it for her own personal enjoyment without any consideration for anyone else. She doubted that would change in future, unless by some miracle Buttercup matured a little. Bubbles was doing her best to be a big girl since moving to Megaville and joining a new, much larger school. Why couldn't Buttercup do the same? What harm would it do, seriously? Bubbles clenched her fists, grit her teeth and tried to put up with it. Out of the three girls, she wanted to be the most tolerant of the others. But she doubted that was possible. Bubbles sighed. Was there anything amongst them that she was the best at?
Buttercup continued to whine, "If I wanted to do the whole starship trooper thing I woulda just gone and played Halo... Bubbles, anyone we know have Halo?"
Bubbles tilted her head, "Gaz has all three."
"Yeah, give me some cool armour instead of a crappy dress... and... that means Dexter is that stupid little cyber girl... oh god, that's freaky... but I'd rather do that than this..."
"You're talking to yourself again..."
"SHUT UP! It calms me down!"
"Aren't there other ways to calm yourself down?"
"Like blasting a hole in something?" Buttercup whirled, aggression peaking. She clenched her fists and they turned bright green, glowing with a building radiance.
Bubbles gasped, almost staggering backward, "NOT HERE!"
"Why not, eh? All I gotta do is bash my fists together and then I'll be real calm. You want that, right?"
"What is WRONG with you!?"
Sun Oct 28, 2007 2:55 am
This upate made me
For a guy who never saw much of the original PPG's you sure ave an uncanny way of capturing there personality's accurately.
Sun Oct 28, 2007 3:32 am
Whoa...is Buttercup really losing it? This is the most lack of control I've seen from her. She's either going to trigger something BAD, or blast a random hole that turns out to lead straight to their objective. Amazing though. This could be the last day for the human race, and easily could be THEIR last day, and yet both are digging up old quarrels and resentments and are about to go at each others' throats! It's a bit disappointing really. Buttercup had been the one to speak first about not taking each other for granted. They're really bringing up all this bitterness despite everything going on around them? Both of them know that if either were to drop dead right then and there that they'd cry over the other's body. They're sisters and whatever their petty feuds they love each other to death. I'd have thought they'd be embracing this and strengthening their resolve as a single unit instead of four small ones.
*Sigh* I have a bad feeling that one of them will be leaving this place regretting this argument until their dying day...
Sun Oct 28, 2007 3:35 am
I like the update! I
'd at it too. I only wished it was longer
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