The Story and other stuff that dAN didn't write

[dANdeLION]

The Story

I like to write. It's much better than speaking. It pleases me to see the words come out
the way I intended them to. It also pleases me to have others see what I want them to see,
thus guiding them to all the proper conclusions regarding myself.

It's much easier to correct a written mistake before it's read than a spoken one before
it's heard. Much easier to take back hurtful things that once said, can never really be
taken back. It makes it possible to say what you really think without being a called jerk;
it allows you to be respected for your thoughts, rather that hated, or feared. Writing
makes friends, speaking loses them.

With these thoughts in mind, I have decided to write The Story. It won’t be a story
to help mankind achieve a higher plane of thought, or stop world hunger, or any of those
unattainable achievements that writers before me have stated as their inspiration. No, I
will aim at a much more concrete goal, one well within the means of my formidable
abilities. I will write this story so that people will read it, and in reading it will see what a
wonderful talent I am. Then I will be elevated to my proper status. Then I will be praised.

The Story will have a main character that was charming, thoughtful, virtuous,
handsome, brave, intelligent and strong. All these characteristics will then be
accredited to me, the writer, because everyone knows that true art is but a reflection of
the artist. And I intend this to be true art.

The setting, whether past or future, will be magnificent. I want the readers to revel
in the majestic splendor laid before them, marveling at the brilliance of imagination
capable of painting such a wonderful picture. And I will leave them panting for more.

The plot, of course, will be the hard part. It must have a crisis large enough to capture
the reader, yet not so massive that the main character (I will call him Joe) can't
handle it by himself. And I want Joe to handle the smaller situations that occur
during the telling of this Story in such a way that I wish I had handled myself when put
in similar situations. In short, I want Joe to be who I wish to be, and I want
everyone to wish that he were Joe, too.

Joe will be as large as life. He will get the girls that ignored me in high school, be the
hero when I was the goat, succeed where I failed, and flourish where I floundered. Joe
will live the good life. And when threatened, Joe will fight, not run; win, not lose.
But Joe will be humble, and unaware of his own greatness. He will struggle at times
with things before eventually succeeding. He will get confused, frustrated, and even
angry at circumstances beyond his immediate control. That way, when people see the
same behavior in me, they will understand that I am struggling with things on a much
deeper level than they can otherwise conceive. And they will adore me all the more.

Joe will never find the true love of his life. That will leave women the opportunity
to believe that they can be his true love, if he were only real. Not having Joe, they can have me,
his creator, in Joe’s stead. I will be to them the heart and soul of Joe, his essence. And I would be
remiss to deny them any part of Joe that was mine to give.

Joe will be a man's man, laughing and working with the best of them. His physical
prowess would make him the center of attention. His "yes" would be good enough to start
a business on, his keen wit and insight will prove invaluable to his peers, who
will constantly lean on him for their life decisions. In this way, I could receive the
camaraderie of men who so far have not noticed me. Men with power and standing in the
community will wish to be more like me, like I have so often wished to be like them. They will realize their need for a "Joe" in
their lives, and I will be him. They will envy me, but they will also appreciate the
blessing of being able to count on me as their friend. I will be their best friend.

It will be a glorious story.

I, of course, have no experience in the field of writing. I dropped out of English Lit in
college, and the thought of sitting for months at a keyboard, typing with cheeto-stained
fingers, staring blankly at a computer screen leaves a lot to be desired. So I'll probably sit
around, waiting for my Joe to come out of woodwork and drag me along with him to the
success I so richly deserve. And then, of course, I will kill Joe off. After all we can't have
two of us running about, can we?

[aTOMiC]

LOL

[dANdeLION]

I didn't really intend this as a humourous piece, Tom. But, I'm glad you like it.

[I'm Murrin]

Git.

[dANdeLION]

Sorry, Murrin. I guess when we take the masks off, many of us are gits. I hope you arel still my friend, though.

[aTOMiC]

Ah, the return of "The Story". Its been too long.

[dANdeLION]

New and improved! But, I don't think I ever posted it here before.....

[Revan]

Sorry, Murrin. I guess when we take the masks off, many of us are gits. I hope you arel still my friend, though.

Why do you?

heh. I like the story dAN.

[___]

What? dAN posted this here? OMG!! Anthology spoilers!!!!

[I'm Murrin]

Now that's weird. Not only do I not remember ever having read this story before, I can't see any reason why I would have posted "git" in response. I don't even use the word.

(I like the story, by the way.)

[lucimay]

i suspect the involvement of spirits.


great story bugman.

[___]

Now that's weird. Not only do I not remember ever having read this story before, I can't see any reason why I would have posted "git" in response. I don't even use the word.

(I like the story, by the way.)

It's not your fault, Murrin. dAN originally posted some smartassed thing, probably a poem questioning Revan's sexual preference or something; you responded to that right before dAN had a change of heart and edited his post with an actual story.

[___]

Here's one of dAN's early watch stories, dated Sept. 13, 2003:

Darsint stood on unsteady feet that even now wept their failure, and had a couple of nasty corns on them to boot. He swayed precariously as the cerulean sky lurched nauseatingly before him. In short, he was done for. This was a challenge greater than any he had faced before, either as a warrior or as the Castellan of Mordant; and he failed; miserably. He fell forward and retched out the bitter bile of his loss. Loss, and much, much more. A gentle voice spoke: ‘Be not distressed. Diamondraught is not for the faint of heart, and none can drink it as a giant can, my friend. Take heart in that amongst men, you have drank your share and more. Many songs will be sung of your foolishness this night’. It was Saltheart Foamfollower. Or at least it was one of the Foamfollowers he saw; he couldn’t be sure, but he thought it was the middle one. As Darsint passed out, he noted with satisfaction that he at least puked all over Hile Troys’ boots, and as Hile leaned over to clean them off his sunglasses fell off. Muttering menacingly, Hile sucker punched Covenant; who jumped up to retaliate, screaming 'Hellfire! Troy, you bastard; what do you do for an encore, steal children's lunch money?'. Immediately, Covenent tripped over the flaccid form of Darsint and fell hands first onto the Staff of Law carelessly left on the ground by Lord Kevin, who was totally landwasted. Upon contact with the staff, the white gold exploded, killing seventeen Ramen and knocking over Morn Hyland; who was immediately raped by Nick Succorso. Of course, this pissed off the Ranyhyn, who had just took a timeout before kicking a field goal, and they wanted their Gatorade and Amanibhavam, or whatever the hell that grass was called. Well, it was all gone, stolen by Hobbits that were smoking it in the distance with Gandalf and whatever Lord that wanted to become a High Lord. Anyway, the ensuing melee was too confusing to describe, but suffice it to say that Darsint woke up in the hospital with a really bad headache and a hoof-like indention on his chest plate.

...And another Gem, dated Sept. 20, 2003:

…BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! A large form dropped into the midst of battle, sending Urvile, Haruchai, and Klingon alike sprawling in all directions. Like a green blur the manlike being swathed a path through the battling hordes, caring not whom he destroyed as he continued towards his ultimate goal. The Urviles were the first to recover their poise, and attempted to form a wedge with which to attack their unknown assailant. They broke like waves against the stone-like fists of this green-hued death. The Haruchai tried to surround the enemy, but he was more resourceful than they thought, more resourceful by far. He merely leapt straight in the air, and landed several miles away. Two more leaps and he was out of sight. Aragorn cried out “By what foul manner of being are we beset?” Then silence washed over the crowd as Captain Pickard spoke. “He was a very dear friend of mine, until something tragic happened. My crew were sent to study the polar regions of Ceti-Delta 12, for there were unusual amounts of Gamma radiation there. Most of the away team had radiation suits on, but he didn’t, as he had never needed one before. He was created to be immune to such things. Unfortunately, there were certain…modifications to him that were not quite as indestructible. One such modification, an “emotion” chip, began to malfunction. The chip seems to have gotten stuck on anger, he lost his normal composure, and the transformation occurred. Now, let’s leave this place quickly, for He’ll surely return soon and his anger will be greater than…” Pickard’s words were cut off by a loud boom in the distance. Then they all saw him, and were very much afraid. With the voice like thunder shattering a thousand cliffs at once, he cried out “PUNY HUMANS!!! DATA SMASH!!!!!!!”

[dANdeLION]

"FLIGHT OF THE BADGER"

@1992 Dan Southard

HE HUNTS IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
THE SHADOWS HIDE HIS HUNGRY FORM
YELLOW TEETH GLISTENING
IN MOONLIGHT PALE AND WARM

FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
NEVER GIVE A REASON WHY
FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
FLY, BADGER FLY

SILENTLY STALKING, EVER ALONE
HE FINDS THE SCENT HE'S LOOKING FOR
IN A FLASH THE HUNT BEGINS
AS HE TRACKS HIS VICTIM'S SPOOR

FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
IT'S ALWAYS DO OR DIE
FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
FLY, BADGER FLY

HIS UNWITTING PREY TURNS IN TIME
TO BE STRUCK DOWN IN A FLURRY
OF CLAWS, TEETH, AND FUR
THE BADGER'S RELENTLESS FURY

FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
IT'S A DIRTY TRADE YOU PLY
FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
FLY, BADGER FLY

THE BATTLE OVER, A MOMENT'S REST
HE TEARS INTO HIS PREY WITH ZEST
HIS PORCINE GRUNTING FILLS THE WOOD
HIS FOOD, IT TASTES GOOD

FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
NEVER QUESTION WHY
FLIGHT OF THE BADGER
FLY, BADGER FLY

THEN, MUCH LIKE TOOTHPASTE
SQUOZE THROUGH ONE'S FINGERS AND DOWN THE DRAIN
HE IS GONE

SUCH IS THE FLIGHT OF THE BADGER

[dANdeLION]

FLOWER OF DOOM (by aTOMiC, not dANdeLION)


The watchtower was shaken to its very foundation as Bayoman's army surged up the hills lining the perimeter of Southerland castle. Loose stones dropped from the sides of the massive gray monolith like the bitter tears of a weeping mountain. The irresistible force crashed against the immovable object.

Sentries had sounded the alarm throughout the ancient citadel well in advance of the invading horde but nothing could have prepared them for a force so vast. The surrounding countryside was blanketed by a living tide of malevolence and death.

Thousands of marauders led by dozens of hulking giants, shrugged off attacks by the out numbered, human defenders lining the battlements along the outer walls. It would have only been a matter of time before the gates fell and the castle plundered if not for King Daniel.

The Sorcerer King ascended the throne, pushed the holy launch button and laughed like drunken clown.

The ground shook as the citadel-class spaceship "Southerland Castle" threw off the soil and gravity, which was her port. The fires from her great engines blossomed below her, engulfing the would-be conquerors in a flower of doom.

[sgt.null]

FLOWER OF DOOM (by aTOMiC and dANdeLION)
The Sorcerer King ascended the throne, pushed the holy launch button and laughed like drunken clown. [/i]

i liked all of the writings, but that was my favorite line.
good work.

[___]

Heh, this is the cream...there is more, somewhere, but it is definitely NOT the cream.

[aTOMiC]

Flower of Doom: Part Two - The Revelation

Tresh shrugged off the burning timbers and rubble until he was able to stand erect. Other soldiers scattered throughout the wreckage that was once the lower levels of Southerland Castle, were likewise climbing out from under the smoking chaos.
“Astor! Are you alright?” Tresh moved toward his friend who was half buried in a pile of flaming planks.
“Aye, Tresh. I seem to be no worse for what I’ve been through.” Astor kicked at the ashes at his feet.
“Say Astor. Did you know the castle was a space ship?” Tresh shouted.
“No Tresh. Can’t say as I knew that truly helpful piece of information.” Astor glared at Tresh.
“Hey Donario!” Tresh found another survivor a few feet away. “Did you know the castle was a space ship?”
“Sorry Tresh.” Dondario spoke with a thick Danian accent. “I think I would have mentioned that to someone if I had known anything about a space ship given the fact that we go our asses kicked.”
“Walter. Walter Torthnosh. Did you know the freaking castle was a space ship?” Walter remained silent but extended his middle finger in Tresh’s direction.
“How about that?” Tresh spoke to no one in particular.
“How about that?”

End

[dANdeLION]

Flower of Doom: Part Three - The Revelation Part Two

Garth layed still until the G-forces and quake-like shuddering of the castle subsided, then he was able to stand erect. Other citizens scattered throughout the complex machinery that was once the middle levels of Southerland Castle were staring in dumbfoundedness, as if seeing the machinery most of them spent their entire lives maintaining for the first time.

“Ash! Are you alright?” Garth moved toward his friend who was still visibly shaken. "I seem to be no worse for what we’ve been through.” Ash muttered, kicking the dust at his feet. “Say, Ash. Did you know the castle was a space ship?” Garth shouted. “No Garth. Can’t say as I knew that truly helpful piece of information.” Ash glared at Garth.

“Hey Donald!” Garth found another citizen a few feet away. “Did you know the castle was a space ship?” “Sorry Garth.” Donald spoke with a thick Southlandian accent. “I think I would have mentioned that to someone if I had known anything about a space ship given the fact that we've been working our asses off maintaining these damn machines for generations now.”

“Wally. Wally Southnosh. Did you know the freaking castle was a space ship?” Wally remained silent but extended his middle finger in Garth’s direction.

“How about that?” Garth spoke to no one in particular.

“How about that?”

[aTOMiC]

Flower of Doom: Part Four - The Revelation Part Three

Bayoman sat upon his horse in stunned silence. The dark features of his countenance were stretched into a strict scowl. His white teeth were stark against the thick black beard that covered most of his scarred face. Every exhalation of his breath was like hoary plume of seething anger.
“My lord. Words are inadequate.” Shool spoke with a discernable quiver in his ancient voice. The old man was Bayoman’s senior advisor. A man employed by Bayoman’s own father and his father before him. Shool was a man who was trusted beyond any questioning. His advice, a prize to any would be conqueror. Shool sat in the saddle next to his king, shivering in the glacial, mountain air. The wisps of his thin, silver hair fluttered like a pennon in the icy wind.
Bayoman remained silent but his every aspect was one of unbridled rage.
“My lord, King. There was no way I could have known that King Daniel’s castle was a space ship. Did you per chance have any knowledge of this surprising revelation?”
There was a sudden flash of steel and a splash of crimson.