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Film — Live-Action
Elves? What help has ever come from elves
I will not stand down before any elf! Much less this faithless woodland sprite
! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then
Lily: I am such an idiot. It's so simple: The Borg hurt you, and now you're gonna hurt them back.
Picard: In my time, people don't succumb to revenge, we have a more evolved sensibility...
Lily: Bullshit! I saw the look on your face on the holodeck. You were almost enjoying it.
Picard: How dare you...
Lily: Oh, come on, Captain, you're not the first man to get a thrill out of killing somebody. I see it all the time.
Picard: GET OUT!
Lily: Or what!? You'll kill me, like you killed Ensign Lynch?
Picard: There was no way to save him.
You didn't even try! Where
was your "evolved sensibility" then?!
"You're pathetic, with your little stolen sacks of seeds on pack horses, with your handful of grain, that tiny crumb thanks to which you plan to survive. And with that mission of yours which is supposed to turn your thoughts from imminent annihilation. Because you know this is the end. Nothing will sprout or yield crops on the plateau; nothing will save you now. But you live long, and you will live very long in arrogant isolation, fewer and fewer of you, growing weaker and weaker, more and more bitter. And you'll know what'll happen then, Filavandrel. You know that desperate young men with the eyes of hundred-year-old men and withered, barren and sick girls like Toruviel will lead those who can still hold a sword and bow in their hands, down into the valleys. You'll come down into the blossoming valleys to meet death, wanting to die honorably, in battle, and not in sickbeds of misery, where anemia, tuberculosis and scurvy will send you. Then, long-living Aen Siedhe, you'll remember me. You'll remember that I pitied you. And you'll understand that I was right."
You call yourself some kind of goddess and you know nothing, madam, nothing. What don't die can't live. What don't live can't change. What don't change can't learn. The smallest creature that dies in the grass knows more than you. You're right. I'm older. You've lived longer than me. but I'm older'n you. And better than you. And, madam, that ain't hard.
And the elves, bah! All they can do is sit in their forest and wait to be conquered.
: Aaaaah... their age, their beauty, and their nobility unsettles you? Miliana
: No - their utter lack of achievement! You know, if I were eight hundred years old, I think I'd do more with my time than sitting about on my derriere singing tra-la-la-lally.
Then perhaps ye would be kind enough to tell them something for me. Tell them the council would do well to recall how many friends the elves truly have among men - lest they chase them all off with their boneheadedness!" Angharradh:
I couldn't possibly- Elminster:
Ye could and ye shall. And be quick about it, before I make a caryatid of ye! Laeral:
I suggest you hurry. You know how rash and impatient we humans can be.
[Cally] herself went on Mendy's list of people to expect unbalanced things from, about the time she started skipping away down the hall singing like some manic, killer child, "I get to kill a Darhel, I get to kill a Darhel."
So strong. So willful. This will be a day to remember. Nauk:
You got a name? Fae Noblewoman:
I am the Lady of Snags and Bones. The- Nauk:
Youre trespassing. This land belongs to the Lady of Marchford. Youre walking her street and breathing her air, without permission. Fuck off.
: One man's lunatic is another's true seeker. Garibaldi
: You've been hanging around Delenn too much.
Q: And later, on finally reaching deep space, humans of course found enemies to fight out there too. And to broaden those struggles you again found allies for still more murdering. The same old story, all over again.
No. The same old story is the one we're meeting now. Self-righteous life forms who are eager not to learn but to prosecute, to judge anything they don't understand or can't tolerate.
Frankly, he's more than a little arrogant, Benjamin. Sisko:
(struggling not to laugh
) Is he? Dax:
Okay, for a Trill, that's to be expected. Check.
There's nothing worse than addressing a room full of pointy-eared blowhards.
I'm not interested in what you think about this mission, so take your Vulcan cynicism and bury it along with your repressed emotions!
No wonder you have to hit them over the head with a battleship squadron before they take you seriously.
An oath from an eldar means less than nothing. It is a promise of betrayal.
The eldar were warriors, aesthetes, pirates, philosophers and killers. But most of all, they were liars.
: Elves have strange powers. Sten
: Being easily conquered does not constitute a "power."
You know what Orzammar is? It's cramped tunnels, filled with nug-shit and body-odor. And every person there thinks he's better than you because his great-great-great grandfather made a water-clock or something?!
: You do not belong here, shemlen. Snarky Hawke
: What about my... Dear Maker! Where did my self-righteousness and pointy ears go? Terath
: Why you... you... Shemlen!
I love nailing asari. So ageless and superior - then you get them, and they squeal like schoolgirls.
: And who is this human
, Tassadar? Raynor
: The name's James Raynor, pal. And I won't be talked down to by anybody - not even a Protoss. Aldaris
. Tassadar, your taste in companions grows ever more inexplicable
Think your arrogance can match mine, Elf? I am Settra!
Warlock: Foolish, blind humans... the Orks could've slowed them down... given us time... You... you have doomed us all!
Rant all you wish, eldar. We stand... and you have fallen.
Oh, it's good to see civilization
Civilization? No. This is a collection of shanties built by monkeys. Establish a stable, unified society with ten thousand years of beautiful culture, and then
we'll talk. Red Mage:
Y'know, I've always been meaning to ask you something. If you elves are so great, why is your technology on par with humans even though you had a nine thousand year head start?
) That's how we like it. Red Mage:
And how unified can elf society be if there was that outcast clan? They were fighting a shadow war to dissolve your kingdom. Black Mage:
One of them poisoned your dad. Red Mage:
In fact, wasn't the throne nearly usurped by them had it not been for our extremely non-elfy
No more questions. The answers would only further confuse your simple minds.
DM: You find yourselves in Lothlórien, the home of elvendom on Earth. Here there is no weariness or sign of decay. Merry:
Bah. It's just a bunch of people who won't share their trees with us. Boromir:
Not only does this place not have an inn, it doesn't even have houses. They all live in trees. Aragorn:
No shops or blacksmith either! Boromir:
Is this how they greet adventurers? "Welcome noble champions, feel free to sleep on our dirt, here are some pointy sticks.
" No shops, no sidequests, the people are snooty and we're sleeping on the ground underneath their spectacular treetop city of lights and music. These are the magical elves? These guys are jerks. Aragorn:
You know what I'm thinking? Boromir:
Only you can promote forest fires? Aragorn:
Hey, you know what really gets under my skin? Proverbially, of course? A century of wizards looking down their damn noses at me. Energy Drain! I know people think I'm stupid. Because I'm not a wizard. Because I get bored easily. Because I have no interest in strategy or tactics or contingency planning. Energy Drain! But see, I've learned a lot over the years since I died. A lot more than I learned during my life. And now I see that planning doesn't matter. Strategy doesn't matter. Only two things matter: Force in as great a concentration as you can manage, and style. And in a pinch, style can slide. Energy Drain! In any battle, there's always a level of force against which no tactics can succeed. For example, all I need to do is keep smacking you with Energy Drains, and soon you won't be able to cast any of your fancy spells at all. Energy Drain! Because yes, I am a sorcerer - and this magic is in my bones, not cribbed off of "Magic for Dummies." And I can keep casting the same friggin' spell at you until you roll over and die. You can have your finely-crafted watch - give me the sledgehammer to the face any day. ENERGY DRAIN!
While I respect your clear mental discipline, I will not allow you to injure my allies. Laurin:
Don't tell me what I'm "allowed" to do, elf. You people up there in your lush forest while the rest of us have to fight for scraps - you can shove your false respect, because you don't know anything about me!
We merely use these crude vessels to interact with subcreatures such as you! Vexxarr: Subcreatures
, eh? Foss:
What is... er... that thing? Vexxarr:
Behold a sand wedge. I use it to interface with irritants such as you
"You're an elf. Your history is one very long love poem dedicated to bloodshed.
"City Elves try take homeland from Orcs. Think ve too stupid to beat them. Ve show them the vay of tings real qvick."
Everyone agrees that the thought of spending 70 years with Tuvok gives them a headache and an upset stomach. Tuvok is so boring that even when dealing with a mutiny he is lecturing Paris on procedures. I wonder what part of the manual those particular regulations are in.
ALRIGHT, LISTEN TO ME YOU KNIFE-EARED PIECE OF SHIT! IF YOU GO ANY FURTHER WITH YOUR PISS-STAINED PUBIC HAIR YOU CALL A WIG, I'M GONNA WRECK YOUR SHIT SO HARD YOU WON'T EVEN BE ABLE TO WALK WITH YOUR LIMP DICK! I'M GONNA SHOVE MY FOOT SO FAR UP YOUR SHAVEN PERFECT LITTLE ASS THAT YOUR BREATH WILL SMELL LIKE SHOE POLISH! THEN I'M GONNA TAKE THAT LITTLE RED ANAL BEAD ON YOUR BELT AND SHOVE IT THROUGH YOUR FACE! I WILL FLAGELLATE YOU WITH MY FUCKING BEARD! I'M GONNA BUILD YOU A PAIR OF RUNIC MECHANICAL BALLS AND USE SURGICAL PRECISION TO SEW THEM TO YOUR GROIN WHERE YOUR MANHOOD SHOULD BE JUST SO I CAN KICK 'EM WITH MY IRON FUCKING FEET, YOU TWAT!
You know what these people are? They're elves. "We're smarter, in tune with nature, have greater gifts, live forever, and are white. We're just all around better than you in every conceivable way!" Yeah. Piss off back to your tree and make me some cookies.
Oh. We're doing this now, huh? We're doing the "human beings are so awful
because we kill our own people" thing, huh? We're going into 1950s B-movie "aliens passing judgment"? Bill Jemas wants to indict our happy little species? Okay asshole, I'll play. Sure humans kill each other. We kill for passion, madness, rage, love, war, and lord knows other things. And yet, we've got six billion people running around the planet. Almost as if people who kill other people are the exception
rather than the rule. Don't tell me animals never kill their own. Animals are frickin' dicks
to each other, whether it's the cuckoo bird that kills off another cuckoo bird's children so that the new one will try to raise them, ant colonies that go to war with one-another and enslave other ants, or even mountain gorillas who will kill another one if it wanders into their territory. In other words, take your self-righteous, moral aggrandizing, holier-than-thou attitude and choke on it, along with this comic.
Speaking of races, there are also no elves in this world. My mind tells me there never were any, but in my heart I hope that they died of a broken heart or other dumb elf stuff.
Don't start me on Elves. My perennial bugbear. Elves are basically "What If Aryans were right about there being a master race?" Fucking Elves