Feb 2018 Archive, part a

At least, I think I do, if it's "What Happened to Gallant Captain Faramir?" by Tinw (who has lots more interesting-looking things on their site).

I also stumbled across "Faramir is Evil Like Gandalf is Green: In Defense of Peter Jackson's Faramir" by Jonathan on TheOneRing.net, which looks at the decision to make Faramir "more dynamic" from a film student's perspective. Putting the two together, I guess the conclusion is that some of Frodo's nobility was sacrificed to give Faramir more to do? Still doesn't sit well with me, but I guess it kinda makes sense.

~Neshomeh

Is it common for a character recruited from another continuum to be told that they are from a work of fiction? If it comes to it, how do agents go about explaining "you come from a story that someone wrote" to someone else?
"Listen, Harry. A long time ago, a woman named J.K. Rowling sat down at in a cafe..." (Not with a canon character, but that sort of thing.

If it's something the reader needs to know to understand what happens next, definitely include it, and rework it to fit if necessary.

If it isn't strictly relevant to the plot, it's up to you (and possibly your eventual beta[s]) whether you feel it adds enough humor/characterization/whatever to be worth including or whether it just slows the story down.

BTW, since your previous mission-writing question is still fairly high up on the Board, you could've added this one to that thread. With the pace of the Board being so slow these days, it's not a huge deal, but still something to bear in mind.

~Neshomeh

Lemme reveal. I'm alluding to one of my manymanymanymany plans for Badfic Games stories. Therefore, "stick around long enough" is true, since they won't come until later this year. I believe that's all I need to say.

-Twistey

...there was a time when someone plagiarised it? Not sure that's what Twistey was referring to, though, especially since, to my memory, it happened long before she showed up and hasn't come up a lot.

~Z

I would really like to see more crossovers between Nanoha and Madoka, especially finifshed ones, and yours ended in a perfect way... Whfg jung fbeg bs zntvpny tveyf jrer Zbzbxb naq Whaxb?

And if you don't mind it, What sort of Nanohaverse Devices would you think the girls with use? Sayaka and Kyoko looks like tthey would fit perfectly with Belkan style (I can already imagine Kyoko's spear having a 'Skorpion Form'... Yes, it seems similar to the Schlange Form, but it just fits with the way she uses her Puella magi spear), but what about the other girls?

Or, in the other way, what sort of weapon and magic would have Nanoha, Fate or Hayate with Madokaverse magic?

Anyways, good luck with your future writing and life.

Congratulations. I know how hard it is to finish long fanfics firsthand.

Regardless of what wrongs you my attribute to yourself, most of the PPC, at least to the best of my knowledge, considers you a perfectly fine community member, and you are absolutely welcome here. And at the end of that thread, from what I saw of the resolution, I think that remains the case.

But... I mean, I don't speak for everyone. So that's just what I've seen.

Well, two threads, since Tomash accidentally started a new one instead of replying to the original.

I understand if the stress was too much in the heat of the moment, but if you can bring yourself to read over it carefully now, you'll find that hS apologized to you, profusely, and that the matter was only closed after I, not he, suggested a solution that I hoped would satisfy everyone. I waited several days for any objections or suggestions for improvement, and there were none.

Please take some time to look it over, and if you still feel unsatisfied with the result, you can e-mail me at neshomeh [DOT] soul [AT] gmail [DOT] com (with obvious punctuation substitutions), and we can talk about it.

~Neshomeh

I'm proficient in JS and CSS, and something like TLS probably isn't all that complex.
Also, I just checked, and the site's broken at small screen sizes. I think implementing some proper responsive design would be a good idea.

My skills are... hmm. Acceptable?

I mean, I've worked with HTML and CSS and the results haven't made anyone's eyes bleed. I never used <marquee> or <blink>, and I know what features not to use, more or less.

But really, I would be happy to help you Nesh :-). Could be fun!

Spoiler Warning: Seasons one and two of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

* * *

Agent Melinda May walked through the corridors with an even stride. Even without looking anyone in the face, she could tell the other agents moving past her were avoiding looking her in the face. Her already flat mouth became ever more pinched. She turned a corner and—

—and halted. The laboratory was almost completely empty, which was unusual in the middle of the day. There was one person inside, an Asian woman with black hair in a ponytail.

May narrowed her eyes. She didn’t recognize the woman. She looked awfully young too. May power-walked straight to the door and went inside.

“You aren’t authorized to be in here.” She stared the strange woman in the face, watching it for minute changes of expression.

The woman looked up. “Oh, Agent May,” she said calmly, looking up and making eye contact with May. “Yes, actually, Agent Simmons asked me to come in and pick up some research data for her.” She looked back down and opened a folder, flipping through papers.

The folder had been closed to start with. Drifting closer, May quietly asked, “Why didn’t Agent Simmons come herself?”

Without looking up this time, the other woman answered, “She was operating some fancy computer program, couldn’t step away. I volunteered to come pick up some files for her. Do you know offhand where the data on Carl Creel’s recovered skin fragments would be?”

“Simmons asked you to get something but didn’t say where it was?” May started slowly up the aisle between work benches that the woman was standing in. “How unlike her.”

There it was. A tiny wince in the woman’s cheek. Lying. “I guess she wasn’t certain where the files were? Someone else may have been—”

“Agent Simmons knows where all her files are.” May’s voice was low, very nearly a growl. “You’re a HYDRA agent, and you’re coming with me. Right. Now.”

The woman stepped back a bit, getting clear of the lab tables that had enclosed her. Fear and confusion played across her face: the confusion forced, but the fear plenty real. “HYDRA? No, I—I’m S.H.I.E.L.D. Look!” She turned her shoulder to May, displaying the eagle logo on her coat.

“Yes, I’ll be confiscating that uniform as well. I’m sure the real agent you took it from will be wanting it back. And you’d better pray that I find them still alive.”

The HYDRA agent made a quick movement towards the aisle on the left.

May crouched down and waited.

Sure enough, the HYDRA agent pivoted quickly on one heel and reversed directions, using the edge of the work table to quickly turn into the aisle on May’s right.

May ducked under the table and rose on the other side in one fluid motion.

The HYDRA member hesitated for a second, then ducked back under the same table May had just gone under.

Two big mistakes. May was close enough now. She grabbed the edge of the desk and swung her legs under diagonally, catching the HYDRA member’s ankles between her own and twisting. The HYDRA agent went down as she tried to come out the other side. Her reflexes were good enough to bend her torso, keeping her face from connecting with the edge of the next table.

May ducked under the table again, grabbing the woman’s right arm as she began crawling forwards. The woman tried to roll to her left to free the arm, but May pushed forwards and pinned it against her back. She then moved her legs over those of the HYDRA agent, pinning her fully to the floor. The woman flailed her left arm and her head a bit, but couldn’t fight back with her range of motion so limited. She spoke up. “All right, she got me. Turn it off.”

May furrowed her brow. She had just enough time to demand “What?” before the Playground laboratory disappeared, and the artificial intelligence of Melinda May vanished along with it.

Agent Vania stood up in the empty holodeck chamber and stretched. “May is just too good. Can’t talk her down, can’t outfight her.”

As Vania exited the room, the DoSAT technician working the controls said, “Good decision, not giving her the Berserker Staff.”

Vania shuddered. “Perish the thought. All right, Doc, you’re up.” She shrugged off the S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform jacket.

Doc looked up from The Tommyknockers, a look of rising horror on his face. “Me?” he squeaked. “But. You’re our combat person. And. I don’t do that. And. And. I’m in a really exciting part right now!”

“Our time block’s almost up. You’re doing the last one. And it’s not about combat; if you do it right, there shouldn’t be any fighting. You talk your way out, just like you would interact with the actual canon on a mission.” She checked that a bookmark was between the pages before closing the book and pushing Doc inside, ignoring the slight hissing sound he was making under his breath.

The technician asked, “He doing May, too?”

Vania made a most curious noise. “No. Oh, no. No, no, no. Lord, no. Give him . . . uh, let me think here . . . Oh! Duh! Give him Fitz.” She balled up the coat and tossed to Doc through the door.

The technician made a face. “The scientist?”

“Baby steps, all right?”

“All right.”

“Uh, but make it during the time when he was suffering from brain damage.”

The technician paused, shrugged, and adjusted the program.

The Playground’s laboratory sprung up around Doc. Agent Leo Fitz was hunched over some files at one of the work tables.

“Uh.” Doc looked down and hurriedly shrugged on the coat.

Agent Fitz looked up when he heard Doc speak. “Um, can I, um,” he muttered. He balled a hand and closed his eyes for a moment. He finally finished, “Do you need something?”

“Uh.” Doc swallowed. “I, um. Agent . . . Simmons! Sent me to pick up some files.

Outside the simulation, Vania facepalmed. “Of course, it doesn’t help that he doesn’t know the canon.”

Fitz’s eyes brightened for just a moment before his brow furrowed again. “Simmons!? Simmons isn’t . . . um. Simmons isn’t . . . Simmons is gone.” He began to rise.

“What? Oh. Sorry, I meant—”

But that was when Fitz hit Doc with a round from an I.C.E.R. gun, and he fell paralyzed to the floor.

Outside, the technician stared. “Yeah, okay. Your partner is really in need of more training.”

Vania sighed. “I’m working on it, all right?”

—doctorlit likes AoS the best out of the entire Marvel Cineverse, personally, and he ships FitzSimmons hard

Because I'm slow and sometimes things have to cook in my head awhile before I can do anything with them.

Prompt: "When will I see you again?"

---

“It would be you.” Sebrin stood in the doorway to the journeymen’s barracks with his arms folded and his blue eyes narrowed with a disapproving frown. “Some people just have all the luck.”

Ezerik ignored him. He was busy gleefully throwing everything he owned into a haversack. It wasn’t much: a few respectable sets of clothing; a crude model of his father’s schooner, the Zephyr; and, most importantly, his harp, specially padded and wrapped in oilcloth. It was the second-best instrument he had, and the first of his make good enough to qualify for a stamp of approval from old Master Jerint. Maybe he wouldn’t get much use out of it, but he couldn’t bear to leave it behind.

Some of the other first-year journeymen clustered around him, joined by a couple of senior apprentices who were daring to risk a tardy arrival to their lessons just to see him off.

“And some people should keep their sour grapes to themselves,” said Hessrian, a blond, smooth-cheeked boy who had been devoted to Ezerik since he’d stopped Sebrin picking on him. At twelve, Hessie had been little and scared, but in three Turns he’d shot up in height and learned to hold his own against the older lads.

Ezerik was proud of him. “You tell him, Hessie.” He straightened up from his cot and looked around to make sure he wasn’t missing anything.

All he saw was the familiar faces of those around him. In all the excitement, it hadn’t really hit him yet that he was leaving them all behind, but the way they looked at him, with a mixture of pride and envy and sorrow, struck his heart. The Harper Hall had been his home, his family, for six Turns, fully one third of his life. When he had earned his journeyman’s knots and walked the tables to the cheers and applause of his fellows, just a few months ago, it had been the greatest moment of his life, and he had thought it could only be surpassed by gaining his mastery in time. Now that dream was over.

Another one had taken its place. He would miss his friends in the Hall, but it wasn’t the end of the world—it was a new beginning. He would make sure.

“Listen, Hessie,” he said, putting a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “You’ll look after the little ones for me, won’t you? Don’t let bullies like Sebrin push them around.”

Sebrin snorted. He hadn’t bothered anyone in Turns. Since Ezerik had thumped him the second time, he’d saved his quarrels for his cocksure young rival.

Hessie nodded. “I won’t.”

“And I’ll be sure to tell Quinya you said goodbye, since you can’t,” Sebrin added with a smirk. “You horrible heartbreaker. She’ll be devastated. I’ll probably have to comfort her, all night.”

Ezerik chuckled, shaking his head. “Quinya has better sense than that. She’ll be happy for me. You all will... won’t you?”

The others nodded and gave him their assurances: they were thrilled, of course. One of them being chosen was an honor that reflected on them all, and the younger ones could still dream that one day, it might be them.

A loud, brassy bugle from the quadrangle made them all jump.

“That’s your ride,” said Sebrin, finally moving out of the doorway. “You’d better run.”

“Yeah.” Ezerik pulled on his coat, though the day was warm, and threw his haversack over one shoulder. “Well... good-bye, then.”

Hessie put a hand on his arm. “When will we see you again?”

“I don’t know.” Ezerik grinned, and his hazel eyes gleamed with excitement. “But if you do, you’ll have to look up, because I’ll be on the back of a bronze dragon!”

---

Ezerik is, of course, known by another name these days. He's been gaining some actual backstory lately. {= )

~Neshomeh

Duck left. Shotgun, machinegun, grendade… Dead again. Restart. Okay, this time right, grenade first...

Thoth walked in. Tom closed the program. “Hey, Thoth! Where’ya been? I’ve just been… ahh… training. In a combat simulation.”

“In fact,” said Thoth, “I have been training as well. After my failure in our prior mission, I have been practicing my mental focus. And I have an initiate to train.”

“You mean Derik?” Tom laughed. “Seriously, what are you two, married?”

“It takes dedication to truly develop through training. I must keep my skills sharp, and Derik has made significant progress,” said Thoth coldly. He wasn’t even going to dignify Tom’s jab with a response.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tom, grinning. “Anyways, what were you doing?”

“Aside from focusing the mind developing my psychic talents, as well as training my initiate in the same, I have a strict exercise regimen, and practice daily with both long-range and melee weapons. It is important to keep my skills in place.”

Tom shrugged. “Well, I did some experimental work on trying to get demons to do even more work for me, and then decided to do a bit of reflex and combat training in a simulator.”

Thoth walked behind Tom, to get a better angle on what he’d been doing. “Yes,” he said, his voice utterly serious. “I am certain that this ‘Half-Life’ is an excellent combat simulator.”

“It is!” replied Tom, indignantly.

“Well, then. Perhaps you should face me. Test your simulator-developed skills in the real world.”

Tom paused for a moment. “Thoth?”

“Yes.”

“Not another word.”

--

((PPC's not mine, Warhammer and Laundry Files aren't mine you know the drill, Thoth and Tom are mine, Derik belongs to Nesh, who said I could use him.))

"So, we've got a new player this evening, everyone. This is Cassie, she's a DMS agent, and I'd like to welcome her to the Coterie of Light. Say hi!"

A chorus of muted "Hi"s greeted Cass as she shuffled her feet. Her hair hung down over her face like the shutters on a corner shop, and after a few moments of immense internal struggle, she said hi back.

"Doctor Peep, is she here because of what happened with Bill?"

"Well, Gabrielle, that entirely depends on how much you enjoyed playing in a party with Supreme Commander Murdertron, Chief Eye-Gouger of the Army of Extra Deadly Death."

"Welcomewelcomewelcome! Come sit next to me! Would you like some snacks? My partner made everybody snacks. He's kinda like that."

"Um." Cassie said. Then "Thank you." Then "I'm sorry, but how are you allowed to be that fluffy?"

"Aw! Thank you! I'm a Flareon is why, but it's also because people brush me and snuggle me when I'm on the wards. I'm a therapy Pokemon with the MPND Clinic, but Doctor Peep is my therapist too!"

Gabrielle beamed. Cassie nodded back, her eyes a little wide. "Er. Okay. That's... nice?"

"So who are you playing? I'm the cleric, because making people not hurt any more is awesome!"

"Um. Valiant Cavalier. It's a paladin subclass. More, um, hitty. And his name's Thorin. And he has a bear. Doctor Peep said it would be okay?"

"Thank heavens, an actual tank," piped up Eloise. "I'm sick of getting slapped about because Bill thinks it's funny to watch the wizard get into close combat."

---

It took a few minutes to get everyone settled in, but eventually the group was all set. It was a motley assortment, and Cass was the only human at the table; T'viq was a Reman, Eloise was a drider, Sugi was a bonsai Ent, and the DM, Doctor Peep, was a six-foot animatronic duck. The campaign, Gabrielle explained, had been going on for some time, mostly in spite of a recovering Gary Stu called Bill who was a total edgelord and kept trying to screw things up for the party. Before Gabrielle could go any further on why Bill was a complete butt, Doctor Peep loudly announced the setting.

"After the tragic death of Supreme Commander Murdertron, your characters have returned to the manor at Thandallyn to train and generally relax. A few months have passed without incident... until now. A mysterious stranger is at the gates of the house."

"I go to the window and try to get a look at them," said T'viq. "Such work is suited well for elven eyes, especially those of a ranger. Plus I'm just generally a bit nosy."

"Okay, roll me perception."

Clatter.

"Smeg."

"Astarael, you gaze long and hard, and form a really excellent and in-depth mental picture of the wall you're staring at. Is anyone else doing anything?"

"Oh! Sure!" Gabrielle smiled. "I'll go down to the gate. And bring pie. Everybody loves pie."

A chorus of laughs around the table. Cass sagged a bit, stayed quiet.

"Okay then, Drake. You go out to the gate and see a heavily armoured figure on the back of a cave bear. The rider is even shorter than you are, which is saying something for a halfling."

"Ho there, stranger!" Gabrielle cried in as manly a voice as a fluffy red bunny could manage. "What brings thee to Ascalon?"

There was silence for a bit, then Cass spoke. "Er. Dwarven business! Yes. Definitely. Nothing to do with anything gobliny or stuff like that. My name is Thorin of the Green Beard, and I seek audience with noble heroes who mayst use the service of a strong and righteous sword arm! Verily, 'tis a fine time to be a dwarf of my lineage, and definitely not a day to be a goblin in some scrounged up armour with a load of cave moss glued to his face, why would you even assume such a person would be here?"

There was a very long pause.

"Cassie, is Thorin a goblin pretending to be a dwarf?" Doctor Peep asked.

"What possible reason could you have to suspect such a thing of the noble Thorin Greenbeard, dwarf adventurer and in no way a goblin whose face is covered in lichen that's really itchy underneath this plate mail?"

"... You're going to fit riiiiiiiiiight in around here."

Cassie smiled, and believed her.

Harris was strewn across the leather couch. There he lay, in front of the T.V., and behind the coffee table. Another episode of "Friends" was about to autoplay.

"Alexa, how many seasons of 'Friends' are there?"

The home robot that he'd recently purchased lit up, and cheerily responded that there were 10 seasons in total, and 236 episodes total.

Harris groaned and harrumphed as the title sequence played. Episode 4, Season 2.

He was in no mood to get up and simply pick up the remote, and watch something more interesting, but on the other hand it was getting close to four in the morning, and he had to sleep some time.

And so, he sat up straight, and began to focus. Channeling his inner energies. Attempting to straighten out and clear his mind. Closing his two eyes, and attempted to open his metaphorical third.

With a sudden burst of movement, he struck his hand out open-palmed, towards the remote.

No dice.

Too much energy spent, he opted for lying back down, and shoving a pillow over his head.

Somewhere, deep down he remembered something very vital to him. Something extraordinarily important that he had done. Something of great power and use to him, in times of great need such as this. He spent a minute, exercising his mind, working his poor brain as hard as he could.

He had hooked up Alexa to his T.V.

"Alexa, turn off the T.V."
"I'm sorry, I could not understand your request."

Harris decidedly moved the pillow off of his face, and repeated once more.
"Turning off the T.V."

And with that victory, Harris decided that he had some hard-earned sleep to take advantage of, and drifted off.

Ix pointed her finger at the candle in front of her, eyebrows drawn together as she focused. Charlotte yawned, swinging her legs from her perch on the countertop.

"You wanna watch a movie or something?"

Ix nodded with her chin towards the console, not taking her eyes off the candle. "You go ahead if you want. I'm practicing."

"Fwai, you've been 'practicing' for the last half hour."

"I know," Ix said, frowning at the still-unlit wick. "But I've never done wandless magic before, you can't expect me to get this right away."

Charlotte sighed and hopped off the counter, wandering over to their DVD shelves to browse titles.

Ix consulted her book briefly before leaning in, jabbing her finger at the candle. "Incendio!"

For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn she saw a faint wisp of smoke rising up, but she decided it must have been her imagination when nothing more came of it.

"Iiix," Charlotte sang, holding up a case. "How about Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Your faaavorite!"

"You watch without me."

Charlotte sighed and turned back to the shelves.

She was just pulling their copy of Pride and Prejudice out of its case when Ix tapped her on the shoulder. She was beaming from ear to ear as she held up the flickering candle.

"You did it?!" Charlotte asked, her eyes huge.

Ix laughed. "No, I used a match. C'mon, let's just watch that movie. I need a break."

Yay, an Iximaz mission that not into a canon I'm planning to consume eventually, so I can read it without spoilers! Because that's why I haven't been commenting on a lot of your other missions lately, if you noticed I wasn't, but you probably didn't notice and I've been making too much of it in my mind but I was afraid of insulting you but I didn't know how to bring it up without sounding weird and

I know I've mentioned on some of the recent Ix-and-Char stories how fun it is that Ix gets to be the stronger, more experienced one now that Charlotte has become human. But I only realized reading this story how valuable it's going to be for Ix's self confidence to shift their focus from their own perceived failings, and to focus more on helping Charlotte become stronger. Which will also make their relationship closer! Yay!

I was going to say something about testosterone not automatically making people easily turned on, but then I remembered that I'm ace, and have no idea how testosterone works in that department. (It works fine for me in the other department. I scared a whole bunch of my coworkers yesterday because they overheard me screaming at boxes of produce.)

—doctorlit, screaming at inanimate objects with regularity

• I wonder whether or not the choice of link text is significant ...
  - Ok, those Overwatch usernames are nice
  - The swordfighting training was a cool thing, and you did a good job of showing Charlotte's level of being in shape compared to Ix
  - ... omai? I think that next bit gets an omai.
  - I'm with Lotte on the "not getting shot" thing
  - Oh, man ... those transitions. inb4 Charlotte gets knocked out by one
  - Narrator, stop acknowledging the innuendos I had in my head :P
  - Ok, I'm not following the dress code thing
  - Oh ... nvm, I didn't notice the hair thing in the fic. That makes sense new (a few paragraphs later)
  - Ok, that's a clever execution method which is going to fail now that you've mentioned it on page
  - Awww. Ix/Lotte in the Jack conversation is cute
  - The middle of a dangerous mission is a perfect time for a snogging session, I'd say
  - Wow, this Sue's massively flip-floppy characterization.
  - Ok, that Ix/Lotte flirting with the accent ... sexy interlude when? :P
  - High speed broom chase?
  - Looks like I didn't need to wait for an interlude :P
  - Took me a moment to figure out that "part of a dream" was the Sues's dream
  - Ok, Jack is funny
  - Oh my, that ending ...
  
  Review: Ok, so that was overall good. You got in a bunch of relationship development for Ix and Charlotte.
  
  One complaint I have is that you hammered in the inconsistent characterization of the Sue a whole lot, comparatively, but that could be because it's the major persistent issue. Idk. Might be worth looking in to.
  
  - Tomash

Torchwood atmosphere or testosterone? Fwai appeared to be more confident before they entered the fic, so it must have been the latter? Or there may be factors at play that Fwai doesn't even think about, like positive effects of having come out (was this only recently?), or Lottie being less overwhelming now that she's struggling with being human. Looks like a perfect reason to reread the whole story arc trying to see the greater picture, and now that I'm no longer working to earn a living, I may even find the time to do it. Or I may just be looking for another pretense to still not start my own spin-off :-)

OT: Also, the Uncanonical Department of Inaccuracies would like to inform you that there is a small inaccuracy in "Neverfree From Working", spilled over from the RP. Richard Legard saying "Now, the Cafeteria, you said?", apparently in response to Ajax sending Desdendelle and the Librarian to the cafeteria, doesn't make any sense. A more reasonable version of that dialog, changing about three lines, may be found at the end of Hardric's mission Backside of the Canon. After one year, I finally got around to tell you this.

HG, procrastinating.

There are... I'm gonna say literally millions of bad fanfics out there, and hundreds if not thousands more going up every day. It's a physical impossibility for us to do missions into them all. The PPC (organisation) can, of course, make an effort at it (though they fail miserably); for us it's completely meaningless.

We're here to have fun. If one of the myriad stories that is potential PPC fodder is inappropriate for some reason, just... don't report it. :) Remember, 'bad enough [for a mission]' doesn't actually require it to be the most brain-breakingly squicky thing you can find; TOS never delved into NSFW territory (at least not while Acacia was around), and a lot of the best missions out there are the ones into seemingly-bland stories that just have so many maddening twists away from sanity and logic that the missions come out hilarious. (Conversely, I think Clbr__n was one of my worst missions, because Dafydd and Connie basically devolved into yelling 'argh, that's so wrong!' at everything.)

hS