Aut Omnia, aut Nihil--a discussion thread

Lad! Come on down for cuppa, if you don't mind.

............Colonial, why have you never invited ME to share a cup? AM I JUST NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!!???

Also, 2 things mates; a) if i don't respond within a couple of days to something, or even a day, someone PM me to hurry up, as I'm probably just being lazy. b) I realize Drew came off like an idiot a good deal of the time, but he was supposed to be actually a really intelligent character, so it was my writing more than anything else. My new character is supposed to be mildly intelligent as well, so if he starts coming off as an idiot, do me a favor and tell me, as it's just me being a crappy writer again and I must correct.

edited 20th Jun '12 6:07:42 PM by tvtropesnoob

Bindle, I should say.

On the subject of themes, I've two choices for Vritra's theme—not Vritra and Janice, just the dragon itself.

The second is more awesome IMO.
Khonsu's theme would probably be Kojo no Tsuki*

edited 21st Jun '12 4:48:59 AM by desdendelle

A minor character edit before I go in; I'm changing his name because having 2 jacks would just be confusing. Also, I forgot to mention in his profile that he has a soft spot for children; I was thinking about how to keep the guy from betraying the party in a tight spot (if the situation was bleak enough to think he's gonna die if he sticks around, he'd switch sides) but I suppose I don't have to worry about that with Peter around.

And here you have a short post from your DM, gents; it might have been longer, but it is extremely hot where he lives right at the moment. -_-

Canada? Extremely hot? That's a funny one.

Oh yeah, funny. 35 degrees Celsius (95 Fahrenheit) at midnight of all times is just hilarious, my friend.

Even Russia is blazing hot in summer, lad. Come on.

From what I heard the mosquitos are the main problem.

Poor, poor Boss Frog. We had 36 degrees Celsius a week ago. Wasn't fun, to say the least. I nearly got a heatstroke.

You people and your foreign units of measuring heat.

Hey fellas, I'm gonna post the rough draft of part of my post here; I've been really thinking about how to improve my writing technique, particularly show and tell. Would anyone take a poke and tell me where I could improve on before I continue on with it?

The day of the disaster

"Damn mornings" muttered a young man irritably, jet black hair not long enough to shield his irritated eyes from the rays of the morning. He rubbed his tired eyes and slowly got up and stretched from where he had been resting. Try as he might, the simple enraging sensation of being dazed wouldn't leave his mind, as it never would after that dream. He leaned his head back slightly to look up at the massive clock tower's head; it was somewhat difficult seeing as how it was right above his head, but he managed to make out the time; 6 resounding strikes had announced the time when he had finished scaling the massive tower earlier. He squinted over the edge of the concrete balcony he was resting on, and sure enough the new 'contractor' — a fancy way of saying drug dealer — that had been sent to meet with him and his mates hadn't arrived yet. He sighed. ~and to think I even got up early to make an impression on this guy.~ Why he even wanted to meet in the daylight was beyond the boy; all the experienced smugglers knew that doing operation in broad daylight around here was a bad idea.

"Dude, Ciaron, you know it doesn't matter if we do the job in the day or night; they'll be as likely to check the car at night as they do at day.", came a voice behind Ciaron, who nearly jumped out of his skin and he realized he must have been thinking out loud. He felt his face grow red despite his efforts to hide his brief scare as he turned to face one of his running mates, Neila, an imposing red headed amazonian-like woman of a height of no less than 6 and a half feet and a year older than Ciaron. Her smug expression easily conveyed that he not only knew he had managed to get the drop on Ciaron, but was quite pleased with it. "Buuut if you're easy to catch off guard, then maybe you should sit this one out", a mischievous smile spreading over her face as her tone got more teasing, "it's alright, we understand that a little boy like you needs his beauty sleep; go ahead and go back to the house and catch some shut eye, we—"

"Oh shut up, Neil. Just a little tired is all", though the last part was contorted by yet another stifling yawn. Neila rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to get up quite as early as you did, you know. Sleepy runners are caught runners."

~Yeah, right, like they'd ever catch me that easily.~ "I'll be fine in a (and yet another yawn) little bit." He shook his head to clear the haze that had settled itself comfortably in his cerebrum since an hour ago; the action was about as effective at vacating his unwanted tenant as it had been when he first. "It ain't the first time I've had to go without sleep before a smuggle; the dreams aren't getting any less draining."

Neila's smile dropped slightly. "The same one, huh. Damn man, again?"

"Yeah, I know. It woke me up an hour ago, and won't let me go back to sleep. I come out here, fall asleep again, and it hits again." He managed a small, wry smile that was part grimace. "It's like a beggar; it won't leave me alone until it drains me of everything I have."

Now Neila began to look a little worried. "It hit two times in one day?"

"Yeah, I know. It's been getting worse and worse. Also", he mumbled" I never heard a voice in it before...Maybe spending so much time high up is finally scrambling my brain." His attempt at humor failed to make him less drowsy, further souring his mood.

Another woman, this one slightly older looking than Neila and Ciaron and just as muscular as Neila if a bit shorter, opened up a door onto the walkway they were standing on. "Let's hope you can still smuggle well, Ciaron. You'll have to do it even if you drop dead halfway through." She paused to brush her blonde hair out of her eyes (she really needed to get it cut, Ciaron thought_). "We need this." There was a silence as all 3 sordidly contemplated their situation. The woman, Sheena, had reminded them of how much was riding on this operation.

The 3 of them had been orphans from St. Thomas orphanage, one of the most run down places on the island in one of its most run down neighborhood. Politicians didn't care about it, and it had always been struggling financially. It had good people; it didn't deserve the treatment it got, or so figured Ciaron. He and his 2 friends, Neila and Sheena, had moved into their own place, a real cheap apartment, when they were all in high school, and they got most of their finance from Big Al, the street name for the local smuggling kingpin. While they had rarely met him in real life, he was rumored to have been an orphan himself, and his helpful nature towards St. Thomas had only helped spur the talks. He wasn't that bad as far as criminals go, as he forbid his workers from killing bystanders; clean business was the most profitable, he had always said, and from the amount of followers he had it seemed it was true. Of course, this could have something to do with said followers relying on him for their drug addictions, but he had always had a soft spot for the small people in life, none would argue. Unfortunately for St. Thomas, politicians had finally decided to move against him. It had been troubling, since those in the office that were being paid off by Big Al had hampered things, but his power and pockets had begun to wane severely. While the amount of smuggled goods had gone down, violent crimes had gone up without his staying hand, and now new smugglers had come in to try and take his place in the crime vacuum. Unlike Big Al, they had no sympathy for St. Thomas (Ciaron found it irritatingly ironic that despite all the islands efforts to clean up the slums from crime, they had done nothing to actually HELP the people living there), and Ciaron and co. had been forced to rejoin the fray in order to try and pull in some money for their struggling old home, whether or not it wanted help from a business involving illegal goods.

"Yeah, we'll get it done for sure. Don't worry about me", Ciaron did his best to get his friends out of the sordid atmosphere that had been generated. It had a little affect, but not by much. Neila shifted uncomfortably. "SO", she began with a tone obvious that she was trying to pull a reverse on the subject, "Sheena, did you see the kid scaling the tower again?"

Ciaron's eyes went wide as Sheena went from frowning in thought to glowering at him. —Uh oh. Out of the somber pan and into the fryer.— He rarely withered under glares but Sheena's was legendary in utter menace. "HOW many times have we told you not to do that? For love of god, Ciaron, not only that but it's fucking early with morning dew and everything!"

"Aw come on, Sheena, I've been climbing long before I met you two, don't try and tell me I can't do something I know I can!"

Sheena glowered for another second, then sighed and deflated. "You're gonna die one of these days."

"At least at this height he'd make a looking stain on the ground. Hey, it'd be like your own personal memorial!" Neila dodged a kick from Ciaron and chuckled.

Around this point Ciaron glanced out and down to the streets below, and in the morning rays he caught sight of a black sedan rolling into the street that headed down to the base of the tower. "As much as I like to bicker, it looks Reddit is here." Neila and Sheena looked away from each other and their faces turned serious. "Alright, let's head down." Sheena spoke for them. "And take the stairs this time!"

Ciaron rolled his eyes. "I know, I'm not stupid. That would take too long", deliberately completely missing Sheena's point. The other two went on ahead, and he turned back to the sun one more time. He normally paid it no mind, but a troubling feeling struck him, like a stone settling in his gut. He suddenly had an overpowering desire to look around, at his home. It wasn't a good place, but it wasn't too bad really, and it was his. He shook his head. "Time to go to work", he muttered as he turned to the door, ignoring the feeling that was still inexplicably present in his heart, making his steps heavier than normal.

He felt like he would never see this place or that sun again.

edited 10th Sep '13 3:50:46 PM by tvtropesnoob

Never let it be said that a windstorm is fun...

Yeah, I'll get my post up soon. Our friend is experiencing computer trouble.

...Chabal? Alley-Dodger?

Bindle?

Yes, you too lad.

Grey Star is aiming to post her deal to that spider. What's your own spider's reaction to her calming down?

Not sure, honestly.

Was planning on posting once the negotiations ended.

I'll post soon. Gotta drag myself out of writer's block first.

Got into a fight with a car. Guess who won. So yeah, not able to write very well for a while.

Ouch. That gotta hurt.

I'll post in a few hours. At a party right now and it's rather loud.

Lad, greatly sorry to hear about that. How are your injuries healing?

Grey Star: ): D

First a motorcycle and now a car? What's your beef with vehicles, mate? Seriously though, what Colonial asked.