[Herr D]

Amalia Shaw: Multi-awarded midship gunner, KLS Mistpoeffer.

“When life gives you cannons…”

MAKE CANNONADES! Fusillades? I figure those scars are for the number of ships she’s shot down or the number of years she spent as a prisoner of war. As for the windows, maybe mask a small piece of translucent cloud to each? That way they’d be reflecting sky?

[Herr D]

Judging time–oh, and belated thanks for prior congratulations. Here goes:
At the speed of light came WiFi man! MithrilFrog made a good solid character that I DO wish existed. Backplane item as energy effect was a good idea. Frankly, if there had been a background, he would have rated higher. Background is the only thing ‘missing’ compared to the others.
. . . And out of the dark, came Beta9! Greentiger made one of those characters designed to aid humans in destroying themselves. (I have to agree with Waterson’s Hobbes–mankind “doesn’t need the help.”) A black background will probably always be better than none. Though you said you couldn’t think of anything, you did actually get me to pay more attention than normal to this sort of character by virtue of the earrings. Very good. The other items as energy effects were also good choices. Or was the goatee a part of him?
. . . And from the depths in the twilight storm, came The Listener! The backplane and facial hair combined very well in that forbidding visage. I instantly had to ponder whether they were prehensile or poisonous or pretty sexy to another of it’s kind. Use of the insignia item as a genuine signal tower with built-in energy effect did something even more unexpected. It drew me in and caused me to WONDER. I couldn’t help but story a little bit. ‘He heard the signal and he came.’ I have to give this one to Luc before I’m stuck writing another story! LUC! PICK THREE! GO!

[Herr D]

[continuation of Chapter 9]

Jennifer caned over to the cabinet halfway between them and opened it. Batteries all dead, most likely. She pulled out a camcorder with one of Po’s adaptors wired to it and looped an extension cord over her shoulder. Gauging the distance, she plugged in the camcorder, dropped an empty box on the floor, laid the camcorder in, wound up, and shoved the box with her right cane while heaving the coiled extension cord right at Young Mike. “Heads up!”
He turned without stopping shooting stills. Jennifer almost dropped her cane seeing his surprised face turn into a smile as he snatched the cord with his left hand. He left the camera on the sill, continuing his turn, stopped the box gently with a foot, went down on the other knee to grab the camcorder, whipped the plug around into his hand and plugged it in as he began to stand up. And knocked the perfectly good 35mm camera out the window with his elbow.
“Aaugh!” she yelled out. Young Mike didn’t look away until he had the camcorder focused.
“Oops.”
“OOPS? We’re almost three stories up!”
“It only fell to the ledge. Maybe a cracked lens. The pictures might still be good.” Jennifer blinked and continued caning toward him. “Here,” he said, “Hold this.” He angled the camera into her hands, moving it slowly. He changed the view to wide-angle. Jennifer gasped. The afternoon haze and something that might have been car exhaust was layered over the courtyard in an interlocking pattern of hexagons. “What on EARTH is THAT?”
“No idea.” Young Mike had trotted back to another cabinet and brought back a piece of bent conduit and a pair of pliers. He bent the end into a hook and looked out the window. “Aaugh!”
“What?!” Jennifer looked down. The camera was nowhere to be seen. “Oh my–” That’s trouble. Those things are REALLY expensive. If only he’d dropped it in the box. SLAP! Feel the palm burn from a good catch. Gentle pressure of cardboard. Scent of paper, dry rot, dust . . . AM I GOING NUTS, FANTASIZING ABOUT WHAT DIDN’T HAPPEN?
Young Mike grabbed the end of the camcorder, as she’d let it droop and repositioned it. “I didn’t hear it fall, did you? Here, I’ll take that. If I’ve lost a camera, I’ll need the best footage I can get to make up for it.” He began slowly panning the cam around with surprising precision. “Good thing you thought of the cord, though. This battery’s dead.”
“Um–no. I didn’t hear it fall.” She bent and looked. “I don’t guess a magpie would be strong enough to carry that off, huh?”
Young Mike had a smile in his voice. “No. I don’t think so.”
As she straightened she saw him look away. Hey, Tarzan, I saw that! What would you bother about ME for?

[Continued Next Block]

[Herr D]

Well, if all the OTHER parts were covered INSTEAD, the female warrior would have Initiative plus 7 to fight males that aren’t blind fighting. This was informative. Codpieces should be made with a dull finish, definitely.

[Herr D]

[continuation of Chapter 9]

David called Tia and kibitzed a bit, then taped her explanation. He requested two copies of the map slide show, one for forty-two seconds and one for forty-nine. Jennifer programmed the time delays in first. She called up the map and generated a master digital copy for alteration and began plotting and saving. This really IS a lot of points. She looked up to see Mr. Crowe starting to leave and checked her watch. Early. Not even four-thirty. He waved. She returned it. At four-forty-five she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her neck. Half done? This is taking FOREVER. Someone ought to lay out Davy-boy and smash Tia’s perfect little nose in. It’s a SPIRAL. What’s so impressive that she moves in a spiral around the neighborhood? She turned on the terminal next to her as Stuart left. Here I am, the last worker bee! She plotted the last point as she heard running footsteps coming up the stairs. She frowned and hit ‘Save’ as Young Mike came bursting in. He was running flat out, holding a 35mm camera, twisting off a telephoto lens. He tossed it on an office chair and went right for the courtyard window. He held the camera at an angle to the window and rapidly took at least a dozen pictures. Then he fumbled open the window and continued shooting. Jennifer listened carefully for screams or sirens. What on EARTH is so amazing? She got up and began caning toward him.
“Oh! You’re still here!” Young Mike blurted out without turning, “Can you bring me a camcorder?”

[Continued Next Block]

[Herr D]

Ooh. I swear I’m not a deer, but you ‘spotted’ me just now. Lucky they don’t have a hunting season for me. That last blue one is my favorite of yours.

[Herr D]

Glad to see you’re still ‘chinin,’ HK. Nice family. Looks like they’re on their way to graze. Dine. Well, whatever. “The family that grazes together stayzes together, right? Is the mare also a mayor?

[Herr D]

So she’s not famous, right? No guts, no glory . . . Very nice.

[Herr D]

Something’s coming, but it’s gonna be awhile.

[Herr D]

I forgot about posting this one here, though I think it definitely has the mind of an eight-year-old behind it.

The idea of this contest, I thought, was to post a bike that a young boy would find supercool. My imagination when I was young was more than a “Hell’s Angel.” In fact, my imagination scared some adults more than the thought of nuclear war. But really, in the mind of an eight-year-old male, what could be more ORDINARY than a bicycle with AC and rocket launchers to do loop-de-loops while fighting armed mutant alien criminal fugitive martial arts master monsters?

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/2013hm/HerrD-BicycleWithAC_zpsc6322991.png

The bike being sentient might have been a bit much though.

[Herr D]

With the hoof like that, you might want to show scuffs / scrapes / trenches in the surface that the lunge or landing in that pose caused. Particularly the torque from swinging the weapon or vibration from holding the pose. A swing would let you flare out part of a garment or longer tufts of fur for extra drama.

. . . Your earlier question about amulets is a good one, but you can choose non-cuff amulets. Some amulets can be just a single pendant on a thong tied anywhere, including onto a buckler or the handle of a weapon. A runed skull portion or rib bone could be carved appropriately to need and dangle or swing as you like.

[Herr D]

Your transformation is great–I like the landscape layout better but the other coloration better.

[Herr D]

You actually called me a muse instead of amusing! [blushes three different colors, gills gurgling with glee.] Thank you, and–you are VERY capable of accepting potential inspiration. –I’m not sure what that’s called? Btw, I’m pleased to note you’re also aware of how animals look like those funny headpieces some clergy wear. Did the Rev’s contest get you thinking about making your chesspieces look more like pure opposites?

[Herr D]

She flies, and she can burn–“Meteor?” (She looks meatier. )

[Herr D]

Ah, now WHAT would be the bishop of the sea?

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/2013hm/HerrD-WhiteBishop_zps1d51cf8b.png

This seems like the most sensible answer to me . . .

[Author]

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