Pronounced YAK-you-luss
![[up]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_up.png "[up]"){kind=icon}
Might want to clean up the typos in that. The grammar's a bit dodgy.
Listen, Harry, I can see where you're coming from, but something you must understand about me is that I never manipulate people.
What's precedent ever done for us?
The time is now,
Rob shrugged. "Okay, on the understanding you won't tell every one I'm a weirdo." He took a deep breath, and leaned into the table. Dee leaned in too, so he could speak quietly. Rob glanced to either side to ensure no one was close, then said in a low voice "I'm a magician."
Dee looked confused. "What, like David Blane and David Copperfield? What's so bad about that."
Rob grimaced. "No, actually, more like Gandalf and Dumbledore."
Do the job in front of you.
Ghost : "Your father brought me to you."
I love that line because it sounds deep and it is so much prettier than what he could have said : 'the stench of your dad's decaying body is what caused me to investigate the building you were hiding in'.
edited 26th Mar '12 9:57:35 AM by HistoryMaker
The time is now,
“Oh I see, you’ve decided the best way to stop arguing is to dumb down your girlfriends!” Lucy said in mock indignation.
“That’s right. That’s why I’m hiding all the self improvement books from you.”
Do the job in front of you.
Cmdr. of His Supremacy's Armed Forces
William put the bottle on his desk, sat down at his desk and held his head in his hands.
Eventually he raised his head up and clicked on the icon for the message service on his computer.
[Doom Metallics started messaging Time Sighter at 4:52 PM 23/07/2078 Standard Pacific-10 Time]
DM: Hey.
TS: what do you want
DM: Alexia told me about your fucking antics again.
TS: really william
DM: Stop it.
TS: haha
TS: nah
DM: You may think it's cool, or mature, but it really isn't.
DM: It's depressing.
DM: She isn't into you.
DM: Find a new girl to go annoy.
TS: nah will
TS: shes gotta fall for me one day
DM: It doesn't work like that.
DM: It's called stalking.
DM: It was a criminal offence back on Earth.
TS: do we take orders from earth
DM: I still live by the old rules.
DM: And they say, in clear black ink, on a piece of parchment: Don't fucking stalk people.
TS: face it loser
TS: earth is gone
TS: were on our own
TS: we make our own rules
DM: Do you actually read what you type or what?
DM: You sound like a fucking criminal.
TS: i aint no criminal
TS: im just an honest guy in love
DM: I'm calling bullshit on that.
DM: You just got a fetish for emotionally scarred farmer girls.
DM: So this is your final warning:
DM: Stop trying to climb into Alexia's pants.
DM: Or I will shatter your fucking legs.
TS: whatever
DM: Fine, let's see how long you live when I tell Alexia to stop supplying you with food.
TS: dude
TS: you would really do that to me
DM: Yes, Richard.
DM: Yes I fucking well would.
DM: In fact, I'll tell her right now.
TS: no dude dont
[Doom Metallics ceased messaging Time Sighter at 5:01 PM 23/07/2078 Standard Pacific-10 Time]
I just like this particular conversation for some reason.
FIMFiction Account MLPMST Page
I like it, too.
Cmdr. of His Supremacy's Armed Forces
Thanks! Here's the follow-on conversation:
[Doom Metallics started messaging Heart Farmer at 5:01 PM 23/07/2078 Standard Pacific-10 Time]
HF: did you beat the shit outta him?
DM: No.
HF: why?
DM: Because I know how to punish him.
DM: Alexia. Stop giving him a share of the crop yield.
HF: that just seems very cruel.
DM: I thought you were all up for kicking his ass just now.
HF: well yeah,
HF: but killing him?
DM: Not killing him. Just starve him for a while.
DM: It's hard to get hot under the collar when your ribs are showing and your stomach is digesting itself.
HF: you are a fucking genius Will.
DM: Aren't I just?
HF: you're a good friend.
HF: -hug-
DM: -Hugs back-
HF: you doing anything tonight?
DM: I don't think so.
DM: Want to go shoot some Pacific Wolves?
HF: like you wouldn't fucking believe
HF: i'll fetch my rifle
DM: Okay.
DM: 7:00?
DM: I'll bring Gloria as well
HF: cool
DM: Meet at Richard's house to laugh at him then we'll shoot some wolves.
HF: i wouldn't miss it for anything.
DM: I'll see you there. Suit up with the needed gear.
HF: okay. see you there!
[Doom Metallics ceased messaging Heart Farmer at 5:07 PM 23/07/2078 Standard Pacific-10 Time]
FIMFiction Account MLPMST Page
The future of warfare in UC.
Old one, from something that was posted a long time ago, but still quite fond of it.
Trans Siberian Anarchestra (it/they)
Killer Clowns
- not even a mention of what kind of person talks to bugs?
"Sorry for Party Rocking"
said in sign language by a four year old
The Hero is trying to sweet talk his wife into Buick-sex, she refuses. Why?
"Because we've got a super-hearing Nazi in the boot and we've got to get to the American Colonel tied up in our bathtub before the anesthesia wears off."
OK, I absolutely need to read whatever that's from.
On topic, here's a bit that's mostly been banging around in my head. I can't speak to the writing quality, since I'm just writing it out for the first time right now, but coming up with the actual event depicted was extremely satisfying (the unnamed "victim" got his kicks torturing little girls to death and doing... things to their corpses, and the sequence is the result of my attempt at writing the most painful and karmic fate possible). It's the ending to a story that I have yet to come up with the beginning or middle for. All I know for certain is that Asariel is a supremely pissed off Grim Reaper and the last line is supposed to be a Call-Back to something. Warning: Even by my standards,this is kind of fucked up.
"Anika," said a quiet voice right behind him. The man's eyes opened wide in terror for a split second before a hand grasped the back of his neck and propelled his head into the wall. He heard something snap, felt his nose break and the blood begin to flow. The assailant spun him around and pinned him to the wall again, this time by the shoulders. He found himself face to face with something out of a nightmare. His assailant's skin was the kind of unnatural white that seemed to make a mockery of the shadows that give all objects form, and he was clad in a suit so black that it seemed more like a hole in the world than an article of clothing. A name came to him, unbidden: Asariel.
"Her name was Anika," repeated Asariel as he held the man to the wall. His voice was quiet, cold fury - something utterly devoid of passion. "And the one on the table was Charlotte. In the shed out back are Nicole, Lauren, Sidney. I know because I had to come for them all. They didn't ask me why, they didn't ask for more time. Some didn't even cry. They thanked me for ending it - for stopping the pain that you put them through."
Asariel dropped his hands and stepped backwards, but the man remained pinned by some unseen force. He finally began to struggle as he started to float, while Asariel continued speaking. "I ended their suffering. You won't get that luxury."
The man's eyes widened in terror as he felt his legs begin to pull apart. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound that came out was quiet - as though a rag had been pressed down his throat. He kept screaming as his body began to tear. His groin was the first to separate before the rip began to make its way upwards - spine and muscle and flesh splintering and tearing. Blood gushed out on the ground where so much had already been spilled as the man continued to split. The tear stopped as it reached his neck, leaving his head connected to two mirrored halves of a body. His exposed heart began to slow before it finally stopped beating and hung motionless in the air.
Asariel stood for a moment to look at the corpse, then turned his back and slowly began to walk away. He passed through the wall of the cellar, leaving a hole made of the same infinite blackness as his suit. A few seconds later, the man's soul left his body.
The soul shivered as he looked back at his corpse, then turned to nervously look at the portal Asariel had left in the wall. He slowly floated towards it, leaning forward to try and look into it as if he could somehow see what was beyond it.
Suddenly, Asariel came roaring back out of the portal with a spike jutting out of his right hand. He rammed the spike through the soul's head and continued forward, pinning soul to body and body to wall with the spike sticking out of its eye.
The heart began to beat again. More blood fell to the floor as the corpse's eyes opened and the mouth began to flap uselessly. Asariel stepped back and spoke again in the same soft voice. "I told you," he said, "I will not end your suffering. Ever. This is your eternity. This is what you deserve."
edited 1st Apr '12 12:00:30 AM by KyleJacobs
- "Danny didn't blame the Emperor for falling in love with Meredith. It was a trap he'd fallen into himself."
Context: Dannyis Meredith's best friend, and is in love with her. The Emperor has seen Meredith a few times before, amd she is now working for him. He's coming to love her, but in an immature "crush" sort of way.
- Meredith: I still love you.
Edward: I still love you, too. Sorry for all this mess. -flings Meredith tothe other side of the room using.powerfulexplodeymagicks-
Context: Edward thinks he's avenging the people of his hometown by taking down the Empire. Meredith, his ex, has to stop him while trying to decide whether she loves Danny or the Emperor.
edited 1st Apr '12 7:58:48 PM by CheeseTheCat
Heresiarch Command
Once upon a time, back when I still RP'd on forums before disillusionment set in, I was running a sort of (cosmetically) sci-fi war epic that would serve as the "prototype" of a novel I'm working on. There was one particularly crazy scene I thought of during an earlier part of it. Essentially, a force of fearsome space savages (as opposed to marines) are sent to apprehend a rogue general who recently caused his home-planet's people to openly revolt against the junta ruling it. He's holed up in an old mining facility that seems to be of utterly not logistical/tactical/economic/strategic/morale-related/etc. importance at all.
In the second half of the battle, the main character and a few others break into the underground part of the facility, in particular at an actual area that sometime ago was being converted from some rocky tunnel into a much wider space. The enemies, physically weak newts fighting in somewhat Battletech reminiscent mech suits, had essentially entrenched an area of higher ground but a squad of them with a larger "leader" type suit had been close to the breach of the savages.
Like in Warhammer 40000, a great deal of close combat is involved. The main character, not as big as the commander suit, needs to essentially find a way to move up and get rid of the enemies suppressing them and it doesn't seem clear initially when he's swinging around a massive war-blade in one hand and firing through a biological auto-cannon that was his other arm. As he fights with the commander suit, he manages to pull a sudden dodging manoeuvre on it, slipping past its attacks and get behind it. Without warning, he jams the sword through its body, impaling the newt inside of it and using his raw strength, shoves it forward, turning it into a human(oid) shield as he literally charges right into the blast of enemy heavy weapons fire.
The suit is quite well armoured but unfortunately, the newt inside is still screaming, pinned into place by the fact that the sword has gone through the entire body and being torn apart by his own comrades blasting him apart and the length of the weapon tearing apart his insides. Mercifully however, the main character gets fairly close to the enemy position and violently jerks the blade upwards, silencing him for good before managing to disrupt the enemy formations and essentially seal the deal for the raiding force.
Edit: Oh hey, I actually found it. Wrote this one sometime in 2011, not quite as refined as what I'd do nowadays (I hope so at least).
WARNING: TEXTPLOSION
Running forth, his eyes darted below the mouth of the breaching point, his suits scans showing a group of shapes within the fog. Outlined with shades and lines of red, they were, they were visible easily through the smoke that had kicked up. Some stumbled and attempted to right themselves to face the invaders, while others ran from the center of the blast. Some of the shapes lay still upon the ground. One of them, a disoriented commander suit given by its tall and block-segmented body, propped its arm against the wall. It was coordinating a defence, gathering the other infantry-suits into a rough defensive formation. Not on the funebrarans' watch however.
As Aczyiom flung himself down the large hole, a towering black shape flew across his vision, smashing into the commander. The suit's steel torso was torn wide open, spraying metal scraps and red-green blood. The funebraran soldier landed right in front of it, having used the momentum of the high drop to send a single serrated claw through the suit's thick armour. Quickly recovering from the great momentum, organic firearms mounted on the arms on the opposite of its body opened fire. The point blank spray jolted its body with every shot, dismembering the suit and tearing joints and limbs right off the now disfigured body.
Streaks of blue with smoky trails and forest green flashes streaked over him as he landed, going through the smoke and into their enemies. Leaping through the obscuring fog and into the expansive converted mining chamber, he straightened out his arm, spearing his autocannon-arm forth into a red-outline quickly approaching him, a few smaller ones behind it. Its protruding chin-mounted blade found its mark, right into the armoured torso of a tall infantry suit a foot larger than he was. Its glass-cockpit seemed to glare at him as it moved an arm to slash at his skull. Aczyiom's fingers moved faster, firing his embedded autocannon. The H.E. rounds each hit with rock-shattering force, detonating in nearly blinding flashes of volatile chemical mixtures, sending it tumbling backwards and swinging its arms around in a wild effort to re-balance itself.
The funebraran gave it no such opportunity. Even as its minions closed in to cover their leader, they simply weren't fast enough. Moving up front and firing their weapons, they all recoiled and staggered, as a high speed blast of rounds rammed right into them. The next thing one of them knew, there was a sharp piercing pain shooting through its body, accompanied by the visual realization that there was a long beam of steel going right into his chest, held in a single hand. Yanking the weapon out savagely, Aczyiom swung it in a circular formation, swiping another two across the skull while the auto-cannon tore into the rest of the disoriented squad, blasting craters into them as they fell dead before they hit the ground.
A steel groan came from behind as he bisected another and without looking, he ducked. Having felt the change in wind pressure and the *whoosh* sound, the leader-suit's clawed arm passed just inches over his skull. Deconstructing the blade quickly, he slid backwards, moving behind his enemy. Shooting up a now free arm to snake around its own, he then yanked violently, overwhelming. its resistance. With a series of sparks and cracks as its joints bent awkwardly, he pressed its horribly bent arm behind its back and gripped it tightly in place. With his other arm, he cocked it back and stabbed it forth. Armour plates messily bent inwards and cracked, followed by a gurgled choke from the pilot as the bayoneted firearm emerged out of the front of the body.
The remaining squad-members went down fast, but from afar, there was heavier resistance up ahead. On a raised platform and amongst heavier duty machinery, commander suits and a few geists opened fire on the advancing assault teams. Yet these weren't the same as ones that had given them trouble earlier. Their armour was of a more ornate design, forgoing the drab colours and production-line designs for more striking and sharp bodily shapes. The drab yellow of the commanders was now a bold blue with gold outlines and their eyes were criss-crossed x-shaped visors. Above them, geists with the bodies of thousand-sided geometric shapes, coloured similarly, hovered above menacingly. All over their bodies, a variety of small eye-cameras peeked out cautiously, watching from all angles. Their tendrils were no longer thin serpents of steel, resembling more of thick industrial strength cables, black ring-lines going around their silver bodies and ending in four-fingered claws.
Advancing with the two other funebrarans, he moved forth, covering for them as they moved behind a large cargo-moving lift. Spinning discs with serrated edges sung a twisting howl as clusters of missiles and exploding gobs of yellow concentrated energy detonated all around him, but he fiercely pushed the still-impaled suit in front. It swung its arms back, smashing its free elbow into his face as its dying pilot fought to survive against both enemy and friend. He could hear the angry and agonized cries, escaping from increasingly large holes where once thick armour plating stood, growing in volume as he fired the gun that was sticking out of its chest, the raw force of it firing rupturing its internal organs and spilling blood and innards all throughout the exposed cockpit.
With a quick and simple movement, he yanked the gun up and with a sickening crack, ended its agony.
edited 2nd Apr '12 12:12:44 AM by StillbirthMachine
Only Death Is Real
"HAHAHAHAHA! This castle is PERFECT! I feel so high and mighty looking down on all those insignificant people! They all look like ants from up here!"
"Actually sir, those ARE ants. We're on the first floor."
edited 2nd Apr '12 7:16:00 AM by PsychoFreaX
Help?.. please...
I hate my ADD Meds
"Try not to scream, it gets annoying"-Madame Shiryoku- Pariah
Brandon focused on the cabinet and door he broke "Um, wouldn't people have some confusion to this?" Madame Shiryoku turned her head "Not our problem" -Pariah
"No the sight of blood just makes me sick" "But... You're a vampire" "No shit sherlock"
"That is the last time I date a goth chick"
edited 2nd Apr '12 7:47:36 AM by Ralanr
http://ralanr.deviantart.com/ My Deviant art profile, A plea for attention, cause I am bored
turning and turning
When I read that, in my head it was Smithers and Mr Burns.
@Kyle Jacobs: I like the idea of a Karmic Death lasting forever, with the villain's suffering never ending. Don't be surprised if I make a Shout-Out to that in my own work.
Jesus saves. Gretzky steals, he scores!
Forum Villain
"Wait a minute- if that wasn't you, then what the hell were you doing in the past three days?"
"Practicing, really."
"Practicing? For what?"
"Corporate espionage is tricky business. I figure I'd practice one of my fake personas whilst having nothing to do."
"You could have dropped it when that damn Joka tried to kill us instead of feigning helplessness."
"Gah, fine. If you don't mind giving me a straight answer, just who are you exactly?"
"Oh, you got used to calling me Malcolm, so call me Malcolm! Adviser, gentleman, part-time rogue, and at your service."
"You know, I think I've heard that line before from someone else."
"What? I should hope not! That's mine! Tell me the name of the brigand! I'll take my sword to the villain and take off his head!"
edited 2nd Apr '12 5:41:16 PM by Pyroninja42
"Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person that doesn't get it."
ETERNAL
Warning, Strong Language (One S-bomb): Marty Called out “Anthony! Stop fooling around you Casanova Shit-head!”
Edit: Not as good as some on here I know
edited 5th Apr '12 7:51:09 AM by Olivetree
"You'd never do something as irrational as dying."
Apparition in the Woods
People here use much stronger language than that... "on a regular basis" might be misleading, but in all honesty: We've all heard (and said, likely) much worse, here and in the real world. So, yes. Fuck censorship.
Funny, one of my favourite lines that I've written is pretty coarse, but it's not the wording so much as the context that makes me like it, so...
I'll hide your name inside a word and paint your eyes with false perception.
Similar things have happened to me... I've got some lines I love that have coarse language, but the context is what makes me like them so much.
I might post some of them later... right now, Cubs are on.
Jesus saves. Gretzky steals, he scores!
The time is now,
Gabriel's estranged wife has made it quite clear she wants him back, and has just gone to his spare bedroom wearing not a lot.
Gabe walked to his desk and wrote on a piece of printer paper “Heads = Jen, Tails = Bed”. He tossed the coin again, and looked at the result.
He looked at the paper, then at the coin again, then back at the paper.
He turned the coin over.
No, I've no idea what he chose.
edited 5th Apr '12 12:18:27 PM by LastHussar
Do the job in front of you.
ETERNAL
In future I won't spoiler tag strong language then, I'm just a bit cautious, and I'm quite new so I wasn't sure. Anyway another bit of dialogue that I liked from the same piece as before (earlier on):
“Hello?”
“Marty, it’s Anthony, you still ready for that Job? Or are you going to be a lazy fuck?”
“Anthony! I’ll be ready in a moment, I’ll meet you out by the Butchers in a moment, just let me get over this damn headache and get dressed, also who are you calling a Lazy Fuck? You didn’t even ask that girl at the bar that your eyes were obviously glued to her a-”
“Shut the Fuck up Marty, I’ll meet you out by the Butchers at 12”
edited 5th Apr '12 2:13:54 PM by Olivetree
"You'd never do something as irrational as dying."
This is a line from the villain Reyn in my Harry Potter fan fic:
edited 26th Mar '12 4:32:57 AM by Lunacorva