A cunning plan
Occasionally I am given to watch anime. It doesn't happen that often, because - who knew! - much or most of it is unwatchable pap. Excel Saga, I'm talking to you motherfucker. But other times, it is glorious! I speak, of course, of Higurashi no Naku Koro ni - for it is indeed glorious - in its simplicity, intrigue, loveliness; and near-total inaccessibility. But that's okay, because
satoshi knows the specific misery which is waiting for anything to make sense in this particular fiction, and he also understands just how well the animation rewards fealty.
That said, a fight I would certainly pay to see would be Oyashiro-sama versus majin Vegeta, specifically because of its utter implausibility and absurdity. For those of you who do not understand what the flying fuck I'm talking about, well.
It's not really that interesting.
I'm working on this ridiculous mural, comprised of characters from the last few D&D games I've run. It's unquestionably the biggest thing I've ever attempted, and I'm becoming a much better artist in the attempt. I'm maybe two-thirds done, although it's pretty clear that I'm running out of steam at this point. It'd be nice if
satoshi and
ladyetaine would stop bullying me into adding more and more characters to it, but they exist to create and shatter 100% of my happiness in the same breath so I guess I can understand why they can't do me that favour. SERIOUSLY GUYS JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH IT THOUGH.
For some reason the server has been mysteriously generating more heat the last few days, including the hard drive. Maybe I got the temps wrong the last time, blargh. Either way, it's not the only weird computer problem I'm having - Microsoft Visual Studio Express refuses to install point blank. I am angry! But not too angry because it's not as though I really needed another distraction.
And on that note, I shall speak of game B - the side-story told in the D&D game while the original group could not be fully assembled.
A ship traveled through the morning light north of Eitar, freezing winds bearing it on its way. The sky was gray, the Iiyanara-the-moon having only just fled to continue her quiet dominion in distant lands untouched by dawn.
But the sky seemed to rend, a horrible sound filling all - a deep, sonorous vibrato mingling with an ear-splittingly sharp knell. The waves frothed and spat, and the ship came apart at the seams - and in a horrible tumuly of whipping wind and freezing sea, the Jensen Calinar was dragged under the ocean.
Only two survived - Neri Navarri, a knight of the order Luminaire - and Kariad Tralesque, professional drifter. They clung to the wreckage, drifting north with the currents - until at last, they were pulled from the sea near the forbidden isle of Politos by strange, black-clad men sailing on black ships.
The men did not seem to speak Taemaric (for this was the language which Neri and Kariad spoke by nature,) nor did they speak any of the tongues over which either woman had command. Their weapons were confiscated, they were dried, and they were quickly incarcerated on the Island itself.
Deep within the bowels of the gaol, Kariad began to pick the lock - for they were both keenly aware that no-one had reported seeing the inside of the island for one hundred years, and not even the Gods could see there - and therefore, by merely being taken there they had placed a currency on their very lives.
satoshi knows the specific misery which is waiting for anything to make sense in this particular fiction, and he also understands just how well the animation rewards fealty.
That said, a fight I would certainly pay to see would be Oyashiro-sama versus majin Vegeta, specifically because of its utter implausibility and absurdity. For those of you who do not understand what the flying fuck I'm talking about, well.
It's not really that interesting.
I'm working on this ridiculous mural, comprised of characters from the last few D&D games I've run. It's unquestionably the biggest thing I've ever attempted, and I'm becoming a much better artist in the attempt. I'm maybe two-thirds done, although it's pretty clear that I'm running out of steam at this point. It'd be nice if
satoshi and
ladyetaine would stop bullying me into adding more and more characters to it, but they exist to create and shatter 100% of my happiness in the same breath so I guess I can understand why they can't do me that favour. SERIOUSLY GUYS JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH IT THOUGH.
For some reason the server has been mysteriously generating more heat the last few days, including the hard drive. Maybe I got the temps wrong the last time, blargh. Either way, it's not the only weird computer problem I'm having - Microsoft Visual Studio Express refuses to install point blank. I am angry! But not too angry because it's not as though I really needed another distraction.
And on that note, I shall speak of game B - the side-story told in the D&D game while the original group could not be fully assembled.
A ship traveled through the morning light north of Eitar, freezing winds bearing it on its way. The sky was gray, the Iiyanara-the-moon having only just fled to continue her quiet dominion in distant lands untouched by dawn.
But the sky seemed to rend, a horrible sound filling all - a deep, sonorous vibrato mingling with an ear-splittingly sharp knell. The waves frothed and spat, and the ship came apart at the seams - and in a horrible tumuly of whipping wind and freezing sea, the Jensen Calinar was dragged under the ocean.
Only two survived - Neri Navarri, a knight of the order Luminaire - and Kariad Tralesque, professional drifter. They clung to the wreckage, drifting north with the currents - until at last, they were pulled from the sea near the forbidden isle of Politos by strange, black-clad men sailing on black ships.
The men did not seem to speak Taemaric (for this was the language which Neri and Kariad spoke by nature,) nor did they speak any of the tongues over which either woman had command. Their weapons were confiscated, they were dried, and they were quickly incarcerated on the Island itself.
Deep within the bowels of the gaol, Kariad began to pick the lock - for they were both keenly aware that no-one had reported seeing the inside of the island for one hundred years, and not even the Gods could see there - and therefore, by merely being taken there they had placed a currency on their very lives.