The World's Least Powerful Man
A Science Fantasy Dungeon Punk 4X/RPG that explores what really happens to those thriving alien civilizations you just dropped a Colony ship on; with a nice side of Deconstruction of The Empire.
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am.
edited 14th Jan '15 12:49:12 AM by dvorak
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am!
A shitload of random world building notes on a futuristic tech advanced, semi-utopian world populated by furries who have an in-universe reason to be extremely sexualized. I haven't put any thought into it in a while though, probably because I was feeling overwhelmed.
Filthy casual
My trouble is that I come up with these ideas to stave off boredom while at work, but I usually never get around to writing - or typing - them down.
Possibly because I couldn't believe anybody would be interested in them, but here's something I've been trying to work on:
It's basically a story where someone who gets killed in a Zeppelin bombing raid during the First World War makes a dying vow to prevent a merchant ship from becoming a victim of war, like they were. It's supposed to chronicle the ship's encounters with the enemy through both world wars.
(Annoyed grunt)
I am the Dreamer. You're the Dream.
The big one at the moment is a Fairytale that combines various fairy-tales, world mythologies and folk tales. Primarily it concerns the life, rise and fall of a King Arthur inspired figure. Despite its fantastical and supernatural elements, the plot (and the various sub-plots) are to do with relationships and were just as much inspired by my own love and home life as they were fairy-tales.
Do you read Sutter Cane?
Reading tropes such as You Know What You Did
Well of course the main work I'm working on is Uphold the Right, the motto of the Victoria Police and centers on a aboriginal police woman in Geelong as she struggles with the job and all the problems it brings. It's a serious effort that I keep putting off but I really do want to finish it and look at getting it published, even going back and tidying up what had been written and filed away, as well as reviewing some of it's influences so I can edit my story to make it read less like a copy of another work and more like my own writing. Below is the first couple of pages setting up how the ethical standards had become involved due to what happens because of the investigation that serves as the main plot. I'm happy to provide a little more detail but I really would like to have this published so I don't want to give away too much, the first couple of pages and if there is interest certainly a little more, help where it's needed would certainly be most appreciated and of course if there is something I would like to work on and need help I'll ask for it here.
Call Out
Rubi Parker looked across at me seated across from her, from the look on her face she seemed to notice that I was fidgeting. That she could well be understood, given the circumstances. An investigation by the Victoria Police Ethical Standards Department may be regulation given my actions but it is certainly no fun, not for me or any officer who has to go through it, not for the investigating officers trying to determine whether my actions were justified and not for the department itself trying to save public face in demonstrating that it will act when the situation calls for it, which was certainly the case here.
“Now that some time has passed,” she said, the meeting having gone for half an hour now, “I would like to ask you about the incident that took place on the seventh of July this year.” The psychologist probably found it unusual to be questioning me instead of the other way around, but it was a requirement in regards to a police shooting, for the police as well as myself to see how I was handling it, plus she was personally picked for the task, something I was most grateful for. Having been involved in the initial case as a social worker and having knowledge of the events leading up to the reason I was here now were I to have a say in the investigation I would have possibly chosen her as well.
“Leading up to the event,” I began, as Rubi looked through her notes and saw that was how it was commonly referred to, “There had been several offences involving the use of firearms, including an incident where one gang managed to get a hold of such a gun and used it in an attempt on someone’s life.”
“These would be the incidents that led to you being called out to the residence in Geelong?” Rubi asked.
“Yes,” I replied after a moment. “I was tasked with finding the suspects behind the attempted murder.” The information had already been written down, as well as discussed at length on the news and papers. Thankfully no one was able to identify who was involved, that was why Rubi was here now conducting an evaluation of the incident to pass on to ESD.
“At the risk of looking like I don’t know much about the police, wouldn’t that be something more for a detective?” Rubi tried to phrase the question in a way that wouldn’t come across as offensive, which I could tell from her hesitant tone. From the way she glanced away for a moment I could tell that Rubi hoped it wasn’t.
“That’s right.” Leaning in a little I saw fit to explain. “Sergeant Packer saw me watching for the persons of interest in the shooting as a good way for me to be involved in the case.” From that statement Rubi’s thought process appeared to consider several lines of inquiry to pursue. “Had things gone normally it would be likely Detective Locke or even the Special Operations Group would have been involved in the arrest.”
“It was important for you to be involved?” Rubi asked, wondering if pride might be an issue worth investigating.
“It was,” I agreed. “And there was the fact there were several issues to deal with. But that is getting ahead of what led up to…to the incident.” That was how the Vic Pol referred to it, and that could be well understood as well. How else do you refer to what I had done, no matter how justified? Rubi nodded and added the details to her report. “Is that the right thing to say?” It was a question considered valid to ask. “That I felt it was important to be a part of the investigation?”
“Absolutely.” Rubi seemed to understand that it might have been a concern and tried to explain that it wasn’t a negative reaction. “From my discussions with your colleagues you all wanted to bring the matter to rest, it’s an entirely natural and appropriate reaction.”
“I’m just wondering if that might be interpreted as me reacting the way I did.” From what I knew of her she would have liked to say that she didn’t think it would, but she couldn’t say how ESD would react, and tried another way to approach the interview.
“It might help to explain in your own words the events leading up to your involvement,” she suggested. Between the media coverage and what the senior officers had told her many of the details were already well known, and had been discussed several times with investigators, however the idea that giving them again to an impartial third party might provide some perspective to what happened.
“I suppose the biggest concern I had with the case was not looking professional,” I blurted out. Even though I was not a huge part of the investigation, not as much as I would have liked, I think it did affect me, and not just the murder. On the other hand if I hadn’t been so involved then maybe I wouldn’t be in this position now.
“What makes you say that?” It was the same question the officers from ESD asked when I said of how professional I wanted to be on the case, and the answer I gave was the same as well.
“Because of the high profile of the case I wanted to be seen as being able to do my job.” It was a reasonable response I thought, to the investigating officer’s credit he didn’t come after me on this as a possible reason for my actions like I might have expected. If I presented my case well enough I may well be able to get out of this, or at least save the force face. On the one hand I don’t think I did anything wrong, even if some of the public does not share that opinion. On the other, it has been hard living with what happened, and to some degree felt that I did need to be held accountable even if I did do the right thing.
“On the fourth of July we received a call in regards to a shooting that took place, when we discovered the body backup was called in.” Homicide from Melbourne was called who left us to investigate the case, as well as our Special Operations Group, Victoria’s SWAT team, who helped try and find the murderer. It was up to us rank and file to find evidence that would lead to the person or persons responsible to be put behind bars. This was information Rubi already had.
“I know this might be information you have already covered,” she said, “but would you mind going over the case we me again?” To save my neck and the public outrage at the police handling of my actions? As I said I felt conflicted. As much as I wanted the force to be shown that I did the right thing, and still believe I had, what I did do was regrettable regardless of the circumstances. Nonetheless I figured that the psychologist that had been brought in as well as ESD would know what they were doing. All I really could do is tell them everything, despite advice to not offer any more than I had to, and let the investigation and my fate rest on that information. At least that was how I saw it, either I would be cleared and have to live with what I’d done, or be made to pay for doing the right thing. Much like some of the people involved in the case, come to think of it. It was only later I came to that realization, the path to it being a much longer story.
1
The call came in just after 8:00 PM, with the members of the Geelong police responding to reports of a gunshot in Sommers Street. When the nightly patrol arrived they had reported what they found and requested assistance. That was why senior constable Peter Marsters, a seven-year veteran of the Victoria Police, had stopped to pick up the partner assigned to him.
“Jordan?” he called out through the open door of her home. From the lack of reply he figured she must have been busy getting ready, or exercising while she waited for him to arrive. The dark skinned officer, he knew, maintained a very strict diet and fitness regime, one Peter was willing to bet was more intense that what all the other Geelong police members did to keep fit put together.
Where are you? Peter looked through the door, trying not to get agitated. He felt like calling out that it was a homicide they were attending, certainly something that was unusual for the area, but even more unusual were the circumstances of the case. “Jordan,” he tried again. “C’mon, we gotta go.”
“Just a minute,” she called out in reply. “I’m just doing my hair.” Peter was not in the mood to quip that it would take hours, however in Jordan’s case there was some truth to it. She wore twin-braided pigtails, refused to have her hair any other way, she claimed it softened how she looked and thought she looked too butch otherwise. A concern Peter could well understand, even though she had to wear them pinned up while on duty Jordan was an imposing figure, and not just because of her height. Her physique was impressive, certainly she was fitter and stronger than he was, and Peter thought he was nothing to be sneezed about. Jordan once said she did it otherwise she wouldn’t feel confident in doing the job. “You said there was a 000 call about a shooting?” By now Peter had let himself in.
“Patrol attended the scene and found the murder victim.” Peter could hear Jordan rummaging for something in the bathroom, before she emerged.
“We’d better get to it then.” She brushed past him. “I’ll finish the hair on the way.” She was in the process of pinning up the twin braids she wore as she spoke.
“Dave's not home?” Peter asked.
“He’s late from Uni.” With her size, and the face she had as she took in there was a murder made her look a little intimidating. Peter knew that given the choice Jordan would have her hair undone because of it. “Anything else we know about it?” she asked once they were both in the Ford Falcon patrol car.
“Yeah there is actually.” And Peter told her about the details he had learnt so far, knowing how disturbing they were. Jordan kind of turned away from him, taking it all in.
“You sure?”
“That’s what was reported from the scene.” Peter thought of how glad he was that the Victoria police discourage officers from working in their home towns, exactly for this reason. Not that Jordan was raised in Geelong; she grew up on a farm, as much of a cliché that sounded. He would have wondered if her reaction was due to her knowing the victim, but Peter thought he had a pretty good idea that she wouldn’t run with that sort, though Jordan wasn’t the investigator Detective Locke was and even if she knew…his thoughts were interrupted by her thinking of what would need to be done.
“We’ll have to doorknock the area, see if anyone saw what happened.” She watched as Peter drove the patrol car out.
“Enrica and Stewert are already doing that.” He double checked where the homicide took place. “Gary wants us there for crowd control.” Jordan looked at him on that.
“Crowd control?” she repeated. “People are watching what’s going on there?” An idea began to form and she reached for the radio. “Geelong 600 to Geelong 400.”
“What’re you doing?” Peter wondered.
“Before they get bored and leave I wondered if…” she paused as Stewert’s voice came through.
“Geelong 400, go ahead.”
“We’ve been called out on keeping the onlookers at bay,” Jordan told him. “Have you been able to question any of them so far?”
“I’m doing so now. Enrica is doing the doorknock; so far we only have sounds of a scuffle and a gunshot.” Jordan guessed it would be too optimistic to ask if anyone knew what type of gun they might have heard. “When you get here your help would be appreciated.”
“Understood, ETA…” she glanced at Peter who held up four fingers. “Four minutes.”
Currently reading up My Rule Fu Is Stronger than Yours
A Science Fantasy Action RPG video game called Diamond Phase. More details can be found on the page itself.
...eheh
I'm working on a "Space Opera" that specifically uses elements from film and fiction PRIOR to 1977. Basically I'm trying to strip the Star Wars influences from my "light SF" to try and come up with something a bit different. It's broken, as of now, into 3 sections:
The 1st act is on earth and follows a young group of kids as aliens land and ultimately destroy the world. It mostly uses 50's sci-fi for its set up ("Dennis the Menace meets the aliens")
The 2nd act is in space, specifically on an alien planet and has a lot more 60s influences involved (lots of psychedelic imagery etc- I am pro-Leary, so that will probably come out at this point).
The 3rd act is set on a kind of prison satellite and has a lot in common w/70's sci-fi like Logan's Run or Silent Running.
These are all inspirational elements, but the core of the story is *ACTUALLY* a retelling of Chretien De Troyes "Perceval" and is sort of a "Perceval in Space" type deal.
Fantasy writer turned Filmmaker.
Recently got the letter that my book proposal is off the slush pile and being reviewed for a final decision. It is a mash up of SF/Horror/Fantasy themes.
A man comes home to his crapsack city after two years abroad and finds himself thrown into a plot orchestrated by his old enemies to create the ultimate weapon: a man infused with "mana" that has the ability, through a special trinket, to channel that energy into elemental attacks (Air/Lightning, Earth, Fire, Water/Ice). Along the way the man (Soren) comes into contact with a demonic force deep under the ground that slowly begins to transform him into something awful. A good amount of the book is my characters running for their lives, but in many ways it's a duel origin story for Soren becoming "possessed" (and eventually into a truly monstrous creature) versus the man who was made a weapon ("Scythe") trying to find his place in this world (his old memories are wiped out by the process that makes him, but the whole story is on him trying to learn to accept what "is" instead of trying to figure out who he "was").
Along for the ride is "Troll"- a merc with some combat ready cybernetic implants from the city Soren had been staying in. He's mostly there as comic relief (and to add a little back up in combat situations), he has a big green mohawk and carries around a hand puppet of a parrot ("Crackers") who he uses to make sarcastic comments on occasion. Troll steals the show and I had to marginalize him in order to stop from completely derailing the book.
Instead of hiding my influences, because there are a LOT, I celebrate them. This book is like taking Final Fantasy/Neuromancer/Lovecraft/Tolkien/Star Wars/Marvel Comics* putting them in a blender and seeing what happens. Or, as I often like to say "it shows how when you add Fantasy, Sci-fi and Horror together you end up with a super hero story."
- There is an object in my book, Scythe's trinket, that bears a passing aesthetic resemblance to the Infinity Gauntlet. I wrote this YEARS before the MCU came about, and so I am expecting the publisher to ask me to change it... that said, I'd like to officially go on record and say the Infinity Gauntlet would DESTROY Scythe's gauntlet and, with the exception of the actual appearance they have little in common.
How Scythe's gauntlet works: I use a flashlight metaphor when I am explaining this. 3 parts: the battery, the conductor, the lens.
Scythe's blood is the battery. Scythe was infused with a blue liquid called only "Mana." As the story progresses, we learn that this actually came from the elves- the humans of this city have the elves in concentration camps where they are basically sucking their souls out. It's like putting an orange in a juicer. What's left is only the "pulp". They are all, forgive me for my poltiical incorrectness, "retarded" after this happens- I did this specifically because of my hatred for "perfect" elves. So, this mana in Scythe's blood- it is killing him. It burns him up from the inside, literally he can't control the magic and it is trying to blast its way out of him. This mana- of which a lot of it was infused in Scythe's blood, comes out in the amount of a couple of drops for each elf killed- so he is the product of someone else's genocidal research.
The conductor is a special metal. To concentrate this, he's been given this gauntlet- it's plated gold on the outside but the inside (and the actual metal it's constructed of) is a blue-grey metal called "Aethyr Steel." Aethyr steel has a plot purpose aside from this- for the demonic creature in this book (I call it the "egregore" because it is a man made demon) the Aethyr Steel acts the way silver does for werewolves (i.e. it kills them). Scythe's aethyr steel glove plays no role in this (except when Soren, infected by the demon, tries to put it on and it burns his hand off).
The "lens" is a series of gemstones infused in the gauntlet (as I said- it bares physical resemblance to the infinity gauntlet... I am fairly sure they are going to ask me to change this). These gemstones come from another place that is all "Crystal Spires & Togas"- and these are what they use to focus their energy weapons.
These three together give Scythe the ability to do some really, really crazy stuff with his gauntlet- but the moment it leaves his hand he starts getting sick, sometimes passes out etc (Scythe is quite handicapped for having all this power). If someone else picks up the gauntlet? It does nothing (because only Scythe is infused w/mana).
Other characters include- a pair of lovers who initiate the plot of the story, but who both die well before the end. A pair of aristocratic brothers, one is smart and capable and the other is incredibly unstable with an axe to grind against Soren. Meanwhile the "big bad" is the Archduke Nexeu, a sorcerer of an ancient and nearly extinct order (not good guys) who is motivated entirely by his desire to go to war with a neighboring city (everything is "city states" like Athens & Sparta, no "nations" here). Nexeu is a blood mage, and blood spilled makes his magic stronger. Part of why he wants the war (and only part) is because he can use that bloodshed to make himself stronger (other than Scythe, other magic is much weaker and smaller in effect, but those who know magic can "sense" it is becoming stronger).
The Silly Gloom
-World building for my primary fantasy project, the Eritian Story. Currently reworking on the entire cast because I keep thinking the characters lack some depth.
-Writing this.
Shameless advertisement right here.
-Playing videogames as a way to build motivation (a horrible excuse, but yeah.)
On the foundation of glass a dream is built. And, like glass, it shatters.
Silly Gloom- gaming can be GREAT inspiration actually, don't sell it short. A big part of my book above came from my nostalgic memories of Final Fantasy & how disappointed I was when going back and seeing things were not exactly what I thought.
For example- I loved Final Fantasy VII, and I was an avid defender of Cloud Strife on the internet for a long time... BUT, I was remembering Disc 1, pre-drag queen Cloud, the mercenary who is just there to get paid and happens to be a bad ass with a sword. Well, when I replayed the game and realized that Cloud kind of departed from the way my imagination had built him up, I realized I was free to use the way my imagination had built him up to build up a character I actually liked.
Fantasy writer turned Filmmaker.
The Silly Gloom
![[up]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_up.png "[up]"){kind=icon}
I wholeheartedly agree with you on that. I actually got into the whole writing thing through videogames actually, and with how they tend to present some very fascinating worlds, concepts, or characters, I can say they're the primary source of inspiration for my writings.
The thing is that I mostly just keep playing videogames and use the inspiration thing as an excuse to not write.
Chapter 1 (Discontinued)
I am trying to convert an outline I wrote into an actual story. It's very short, most of it exposition (I would rather not turn Chapter 1 into an infodump, but not sure what to reveal and what not) I know I could fill a chapter with it and make a good hook, just trying to figure out how.
Basically in crafting terms, turning Raw Exposition into valuable Enjoyable Prose.
Warning: This poster is known to the state of California to cause cancer. Cancer may not be available in your country.
Original fiction-wise, I've got Moonflowers. It's my exercise in Urban Fantasy world-building because I hate how most Urban Fantasy is heavy on the snark or "lol this is how magic REALLY works and people who believe in fairy tales are teh stoopid."
It's basically a slice-of-life until The Fair Folk come in and screw with shit, so people who like faster-paced stuff might not like it. I DO have a pretty good chunk of plot planned out, though, so it'll start moving faster with the next chapter I upload.
The plot is pretty nicely summed up on its trope page, and that also has the link to the Hitrecord album.
The future of warfare in UC.
The Martian Militia War Ship Minerva's death scene.
They would have been wrong. The MMWS Minerva kept fighting. What was left of the VLS battery emptied itself at a squadron of frigates, turreted autocannons and beams fired in all directions at the enemy fleet. The gunners ignored proper firing procedure, blazing away at maximum rate heedless of the risk of burning the barrels out. There was no risk the ship would outlive the weapons now.
Return fire tore chunks from the armor and silenced some of the guns. An Outer Colonies cruiser savaged the damaged midsection, snapping Minerva in half. Impossibly, Minerva kept fighting. Highly compartmented, multiply redundant power sources, individual weapons on vibration isolation rafts; the lessons from the loss of Libra two years ago. Her remaining crew had known they would die going in; they stood to their posts and kept firing as their ship died around them.
A second nuclear strike destroyed the drive section and its few remaining working weapons outright. Enemy fire pounded the forward part of the ship endlessly. It started to break up. Two of the forward turrets continued to fire to the end, after the ship broke up, until one ran out of rounds in the feed. The other, a beam weapon emplacement with a self-contained power system, had to be destroyed to stop it firing.
I'm not too big on sci-fi, but that's definitely a good tragic scene.
This is from an aborted Doctor Who fanfic that I'm trying to work into an original novel:![[down]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_down.png "[down]"){kind=icon}
The crystal blue flames shot upwards through the concrete spires of the marble gardens as the Ellestras ceremonies, one of several to properly welcome the cautious ranks of the Rifter movement, fresh from signing over a deal that would keep the molten planets of Groma out of greedy trader hands as they sought to harness the raw volcanic energy output ripe within the core of the planet.
Compared to other disputes over planetary territory, the comforting notion that progress had only been delayed, not derailed, and that while wounds were fresh, the cost of living had not been quite as high. There had been no deaths registered in this conflict. Almost as if there was such a state of grace encircling the planet and it's communities that no one dared spill bloodshed out of pleasant courtesy and concern. A war fought with the most peaceful intent.
It was that show of good faith that had led to successful negotiations. The Movement members were now enjoying the fruitful pleasantries of Ellestras.
People were huddled together in the large oval chamber, observing the beautiful crystalline constellations hanging in the star fields surrounding Groma.
A miracle of creation, and for those who had signed the treaty, a secret to be kept. Nobody outside of the Ellestras sector of space was to know of the constellation, or they're significant contribution to the molten mine situated in the dead centre of it.
"Look lively dear" said Mistress Res, mistress of ceremonies on Ellestras, to her otherwise occupied and bored apprentice Cress Mars, "This is where science meets sorcery and changes us all, the constellations emit tiny shards of light that rejuvenate the physical traits of any who look directly at them, resetting them back to the factory settings of the previous decade as far as vitality goes. A new era begins for everyone assembled here tonight, and for the rest of us, a new decade every day, this is how time rewards us here on Ellestras, a gift bestowed upon us by a chapter belonging to a noble, and one might say over-privileged race who did not have to go to the trouble of the deed, but did so to supply our world with an abundance of power"
"Cress? Cress come in" came a weary and distant voice which was quickly picked up by Res
"Did you say something child?" she asked
Cress was quick to snap into alertness and fiddled a bit with the pocket in the right side of her jeans.
"Nothing of note ma'am" she said.
"Cress...we've no time for you to keep up the pretense. We need to talk to Madame Res, patch her through" said the voice, which was distinctly becoming fainter as Cress played with the volume controls of the portable communication device the voice was speaking through, a device Cress was trying to keep hidden. "You'll be listening to those wretched boys over at the Roma club again..." concluded Res, "My dear, I have tried very hard to be patient with you these last few days, and here I am finally informing you of what that constellation does for us and our people, and you're continuous willingness to buy into these over entitled anarchists 'movement of clarity' is beyond my attempts to spin into pristine clarity" "Please Madame, it's nothing I can't handle...please go on, I want to learn from the ground up" said Cress, "It's the only way I can ever really hope to look down" "Then look like your time is well spent as I speak" said Res "Cress, patch her through" said the voice
"Would you excuse me a minute Madame? As much as I am entertained by the explanation, I must do my best to freshen up properly for the dinner for the assembled parties later tonight. Would you might excuse me while I give myself a facial?" Cress said "Simply stand in the presence of the constellation for that my dear" replied Res.
"Yes, but I prefer the practical methods. I shant be too long" Cress replied
"Oh very well, but I want you back at my side at the very commencement of my welcome speech to the Rifter delegates. This has been a proud campaign and they should feel proud for not overstepping their boundaries and causing loss and heartbreak. Time heals many things but fate is what keeps life lingering" Res replied. Cress gave her mentor a courtesy bow and darted across the chambers and out into the flourishing rose garden, where she took the communicator out of her gown and pressed down on it
"Why didn't you patch us through to the Madame you useless woman?" said the voice "I'm simply following your own rules. No involving the majors. We always said this was to be considered a minor problem" "You're getting way too old to be saying that" said the voice, "This is urgent, there's something here...something up here in the stars, we stowed away on the cargo fleet bringing polish up to shard seven, we're physically dancing on the edge of a star, it's beautiful...but it's splendour...it is tainted by the sights we've seen"
"What sights?" asked Cress
"Bodies...husks, embedded in the crystal edges...and their eyes...gored out of their sockets, almost as if...yes, I'm sure...something, something came out of their eyes"''
edited 17th Jan '15 4:45:34 AM by Zarius
MACH: A webcomic (still in the planning stage) about Zachary Jackson, a 13-year-old boy who, by very unfortunate events, gets super-speed powers and creates the superhero persona, Mach.
Basically, if you take Geo Stelar from Megaman Starforce (minus Omega-Xis), give him super speed powers, throw in a crowd of other heroes, and oodles of supernatural elements, that's basically what you've got with MACH.
Burying The Past. A story about a reformed teen supervillain going after his former colleagues and the man who corrupted them. And all of it takes place in this weird looking gigery future.
edited 23rd Jan '15 10:25:48 AM by Kanonite
Let's see!
Fanworks:
1. An AU of SDR 2 in which the cast wakes up on the island... again.
2. An AU of Akuma no Riddle in which every pair of roomates switches backstories.
3. A crossover between PMMM and APH, which is inspired by someone's blog.
Original:
1. The nun and holocaust survivor story from the Write a Plot from the title thread.
2. A murder-mystery that is heavily inspired by someone's blog and The Silkworm.
If they're any good, on the other hand...
edited 25th Jan '15 5:55:01 PM by mercuriesandrandomness
My AO3. Results may vary
(Originally posted on Yack Fest, but I realized this is actually a better place for it.)
Exactly What It Says on the Tin. What are you working on? Do you have any projects you're proud of and want to share? Post it here.
Example: I recently announced my plans to make 20 short films this year.
I'll probably share them here as I finish each one.
Please note that this thread is not about asking for critiques. There are other threads for that. Here it's mostly bragging and shameless self-promotion. (Although results would be nice.)
edited 15th Jan '15 7:34:28 AM by AwSamWeston
Award-winning screenwriter. Directed some movies. Trying to earn a Creator page. I do feedback here.