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Post by idiotj on Jun 28, 2007 23:39:43 GMT -5
hing?
How about we do a death note? Each of us writes a story about what would happen if you, or a person of your choice, got a death note. More info on Death Note on Wikipedia, Disturbing Discussion, or you can ask me or Peej.
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Post by Alice Wilde on Jun 29, 2007 0:49:16 GMT -5
Are we following these rules?
It is a 60 page notebook with 38 lines, but if the names are written small, there can be as many as the user wants. A while after it was picked up, the Shinigami (japanese god of dead) will appear to its new user, and will follow the user as long as the user keeps it; the Shinigami will not be seen or heard by other people, save for the user. If a situation arises, the Shinigami may forcefully take back the Death Note. If the user does not want to be followed by the Shinigami, the user can simply throw it away or return it to the Shinigami. It can only be used by the one that found the Death Note, and can be transferred by dropping it or throwing it away. If the victim's name is written, death will occur within 40 seconds of a heart attack. Unless the owner describes the death, then another 6 minutes and 40 seconds will be granted In order to kill, the victim's name and face must be known. If the cause of death is written after the victim's name, the victim will die by the cause of a heart attack. It can be written in any thing of any color; as long as it will not be smeared,it will not accept the name from a stamp. If the cover is destroyed, the Death Note cannot be used. Users can be killed by writing their own name into it; however, it is not recommended. If the notebook is used, the user can ask the original owner Shinigami for another. How the user uses it, and whether he keeps it is the user's own choice.
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Post by PJ on Jun 29, 2007 3:55:14 GMT -5
Hmmm. I dunno. It's not exactly a broad topic, I figure people will either use it for good, for themselves, or not at all....
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Post by idiotj on Jun 29, 2007 6:42:23 GMT -5
Hmmm. I dunno. It's not exactly a broad topic, I figure people will either use it for good, for themselves, or not at all.... Well, people can get creative, and dwelve into the psychological issues, and lots of stuff.
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Post by PJ on Jun 29, 2007 7:27:19 GMT -5
Hmm. I'm trying to think of something....
And Alice, a few of those rules are...erroneous. The only ones you really need are :
-If you write a human's name into the book whilst thinking of their face, they will die within 40 seconds.
-If you specify how exactly the death should occur, the deadline will be extended by 6 minutes and 40 seconds. Note that the specifications cannot be impossible, and only work for 23 days.
-If you fail to specify how they die, they'll just have a heart attack.
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Post by Sora on Jul 2, 2007 4:01:17 GMT -5
I reckon if we are going to do anything soon, and keep it simple, it should be this. At least here we aren't worried about continuity errors, and the other erranous group issues that slowed 667 Hell down. I'm all up for giving the death note thing a go.
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Post by PJ on Jul 2, 2007 4:06:25 GMT -5
Yeah. I like the concept of a series of short stories, as opposed to one long story. That just went into all kinds of WacKY directions.
But Death Note? I'm not so sure about the topic.
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Post by Sora on Jul 2, 2007 5:51:08 GMT -5
Perhapswe could still go the way of that 667 Heroes idea, but instead of one long story we have just a bunch of mini-ones detailing how 667ers used them for either good or evil? There could be an overall arch to the tales, but one that didn't require dextirious effort to include.
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Post by PJ on Jul 2, 2007 6:08:21 GMT -5
That could work.
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Post by Sixteen on Jul 2, 2007 6:11:33 GMT -5
Maybe at the end of each individual story there could be someting that happens which ties them all together for a final mind-blower of a chapter.
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Post by PJ on Jul 2, 2007 10:05:11 GMT -5
THE DECISION IS MADE.
At least, I've written a story.
BEHOLD!
Uncouth Behavior[/size]
Dante awoke. He lay in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling. He felt tired, but he had to get up. And there was a note pinned on the ceiling. It read: “Don’t forget to buy sugar.” Dante stared at it for quite a while. It had not been there when he had gone to sleep last night. Standing up, he yanked the paper off the ceiling with one sharp pull. The handwriting was plain; Dante couldn’t even tell if it was his own writing, or that of someone else. The paper, though, was his. He was sure of it. He could tell whether Personal Messages were from him or not. Everyone could. How peculiar.
Logical explanation: someone had snuck here in the night, grabbed some of his paper, written the cryptic message on it, and then stuck it above Dante while he had slept. And that was hardly a rational explanation. Who would bother to do such a thing? Why would they do it? How had they managed to do it without waking him? He was a light sleeper.
Feeling somewhat worried, he checked all the doors and windows. Locked. Looked like he had a mystery on his hands. He made himself breakfast almost instinctively; all the while he was pondering over the problem of the mysterious message. He was almost surprised to find himself putting his cereal bowl into the dishwasher; he had been so busy thinking, he hadn’t been aware he had been eating. He checked his sugar bowl, of course. He had plenty of sugar. No need to go buy some more.
How bizarre. Someone with a power must have been fooling around. Telekinesis would be enough to get through the locked doors and stick the paper on the ceiling without waking him. But to what purpose? Who had telekinesis, again? He wasn’t sure. He’d have to check the list.
He’d been hoping to uncover a power of his own, but so far, had been sadly disappointed. It seemed to him as though it was only ever other, less deserving people who got the powers. Just the other day, Kyle had managed to fly. Tragedy was able to generate electricity from his fingertips, Robert was phasing through walls, Linda had become some sort of seer, and PJ could do strange things to your mind. Bah! He thought crossly. None of them used their powers in a constructive way. They were mostly used to annoy other, lesser members. Bah.
Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang, just as a cupboard door behind Dante seemed to mysteriously open on its own power. Dante rushed to the front door; visitors were rare, and he didn’t want to keep anyone waiting.
It was J.. J. had telepathy. Hello, J.. He thought. She didn’t react. Maybe she had to reach into people’s minds, first, before she read their thoughts? “Hello, J..” Said Dante. “Hey, Dante,” J. replied, “Look, I’m sorry that I have to be here, but it’s on official administrator business. Trag himself sent me here.” “Really?” asked Dante, surprised, “What does he need from me, now?” Why would Tragedy send J.? Why not just send a PM? J. stared back at him solemnly. “Where were you last night?” She asked.
They were in the lounge. “Ten!” Dante exclaimed, “Ten n00bs dead! Are you sure?” J. nodded somberly reply. “At least they were n00bs,” he said after a moment of thought, “I mean, at least it wasn’t anyone who’s really active.” J. raised an eyebrow at this. “You know, that really makes you quite suspicious.” She said, indignantly. “Examine my memory.” said Dante, spreading his arms invitingly, “You’ll find that I went to bed at around 11:30 and didn’t awake until about an hour ago.” J. nodded. She stepped forward, and placed her hand on Dante’s head.
For J., it was as though she was plunging into a sea of icy water. Except instead of water, there was only images. She saw faces, laughter, talking, movement, action. She tried to block it all out and zero in on last night. Tragedy had urged that she should do so; she was breaching people’s privacy in the most deep and intrusive way possible. There. She had it. Dante falling asleep, and then blackness. She fast-forwarded until he woke up. Nothing. He’d been sleeping, like he said.
For Dante, it didn’t feel like anything at all. J. held his head in her hands, and her eyes were closed. After a minute or so, he grew cross. How long was she going to spend swimming through his memories? They were private, after all. And it was only 10 n00bs that had died. And he was innocent, after all.
J. came back to the real world with a shriek that startled Dante. She staggered back onto the couch, blinking stupidly. She settled down and looked up to see a sarcastic looking Dante looking down at her, waiting for the verdict. “Nothing.” She breathed, after a moment, and grew calmer. “You’re clean.” She added, after a moment, with annoyance. Akbar, PJ, Antenora, and now Dante, as well. She was running out of suspects.
“Can’t say I didn’t tell you.” Dante said reproachfully. J. nodded, looking sour. “May I ask why I was suspected?” Dante asked, after a moment of silence. “Well, the murders are somewhat puzzling,” J. said, frowning, “We think it was done by someone with a power. Telekinesis, maybe, or something we haven’t come across yet, like air manipulation or something. And it’s not like you’re known for your love of n00bs.” “But I don’t have any powers.” He could barely keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“True, but you might have developed something new, or something,” J. said, shrugging, “I dunno, I’m just following orders. Speaking of, I have to leave. More people to interrogate. Sorry. Have to dash.” And dash she did.
Once she had left, Dante locked the door, and returned to the kitchen. He eyed the open cupboard door; he was quite sure he had left it closed. He checked the cupboard, and the door frame, and, finding nothing suspicious, he shut the door and pulled out his sugar bowl from another cupboard. Using a spoon, he began to sift through the sugar. Ever since J. had mentioned the ten n00bs that had been killed, a thought was nagging at the back of his brain. It was possible…there had been the note on the ceiling…
There. He had found it. A tiny slip of paper. He pulled it out, dusted all the sugar off it, and examined it. “Interesting.” He muttered. Things were falling into place. The ten n00bs were ones who had, in the last few weeks, committed idiotic crimes in Dante’s section. Double posting, posting in old threads, making nonsensical threads, for heaven’s sake, there had even been spam and a handful of website advertisements. He did not regret the passing of the n00bs at all.
This, probably, was also why he had been investigated. So. Had he been framed? No. He had to find out if his suspicion was correct. First, he had to test something. And then he had to give PJ a call. He held his hand out, and concentrated. It was easy. The telephone floated from its slot and landed in his hand. He smiled for the first time that day, and proceeded to open every door in the kitchen. Then he closed them all again. Without moving from the spot. Telekinesis it was. He was quite skilled at it. He must have had it longer than he had thought. All of it fit. He dialed PJ’s number.
The paper in the sugar bowl contained the name of a game Dante had made up as a child. It was known to no one else in the forum. He alone knew what it was called, and what relation it had to him. And it was proof of Dante’s suspicions.
J. was tired. An entire day of running around the forum, reading the minds of likely suspects. She had ticked all the major suspects off the list, and had started investigating some of the lesser ones. Nothing. She hoped the autopsy might give a bit of a better insight into how the n00bs had died; but for now, all they could tell was that it didn’t look like they’d been physically touched. It was almost certainly a power that had done the killing. Maybe Robert had phased his hand inside someone’s brain? Nah, that probably would have left a visible mess.
She threw her fedora hat on the couch and hung up her coat. She never even heard Dante float silently up behind her. With a simple gesture, his power converged upon her heart, stopping it. She fell to her knees, struggling. After a moment, she was dead. Dante left the way he came; floating through a window. He was careful to lock it behind himself as he left.
“PJ? Hello. This is Dante.” “Oh, hey, Dante, what’s up?” “Listen, I need to ask you something. Your power. What exactly is it?” “Well, uh, it’s a little complicated, but-“ “Can you manipulate memory? Like, erase it?” “Well…yes. I can, actually. I just found out last week, too. I erased the memory of my own birthday. Ha! It was the birthday cards that tipped me off, in the end, heh. Works on other people, too, I tested. But I’ve been keeping it kinda secret. I figure it’s better to keep quiet about such things. At least, for now. So how did you know about it?”
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Post by A. the Returned on Jul 4, 2007 4:50:08 GMT -5
Ooh, very nice. This collaboration looks pretty cool.
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Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Jul 8, 2007 0:15:33 GMT -5
AWESOME. Who's writing next?
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Post by PJ on Jul 8, 2007 0:34:44 GMT -5
Yes. WHO?
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Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Jul 8, 2007 6:49:33 GMT -5
Moi. It's a bit short, but I've got to go and I wanted to at least write something because I'm excited about this story.
BANG. CRASH. "Ahh! Don't scare me like that!"
Akbar looked up from his work in surprise. He’d already been rudely interrupted by J. earlier that morning, and wasn’t in the mood for more distractions. Nevertheless, he stood up and peered out through his window to see what was the matter. At first there seemed to just be a lot of clumsy and frightened people outside, but after calling out to Pandora and asking her what was happening, the scene began to make sense. Libitina had suddenly become invisible, it seemed, and was bouncing around and telling everyone in sight. It didn't help that she herself was out of sight, too excited about her newfound powers to restrain herself. Every once in a while someone would yell in surprise and shock as she bounded up on them.
Not that I blame her, Akbar thought. He imagined he'd probably do the same thing in her place. After all, who didn't secretly wish for superpowers? Didn't he...frowning, he tried to push thoughts of jealousy out of his head. After all, there was work to be done. Sighing, he sat back down at his messy desk and began to tackle the stack of private messages that had arrived for the latest 667er. What with all this superpower business and n00bs turning up dead and such, he was working overtime.
Meanwhile, Libitina had begun to calm down a bit and was even considering a reappearance when she spotted Linda striding purposefully towards the administrative building. "Hey, Linda, guess what?" she called. "I've got a power! I can turn invisible!"
"I know," Linda said impatiently, barely slowing at all.
"How can you know?" Libitina asked. "It just barely happened! And can you slow down a bit?" She had to jog to keep up with Linda's brisk pace.
"I saw it. I've known for two days now, actually, and yes, congratulations and all, but really-" Linda looked around nervously and then sped up, much to Libitina's annoyance. "Sorry, Libby, I've really got to get to Tragedy as soon as possible. Something terrible's going to happen." And with that she broke into a run, leaving Libitina staring after her in puzzlement.
A bang and a rattle at the door caused Akbar to look up yet again from his work. The door burst open to reveal nothing, and Akbar sighed. It was probably Libby. Sure enough, her voice began to speak. “Hey Akbar, I-“
“I know,” Akbar said, irritated.
“Have you become a seer too, then?” Libby asked, appearing in the doorway.
What? Akbar thought. “No, I just heard you making a fuss outside earlier. Now, Libby, I know you’re excited but this is my third interruption of the day and at this rate, I’m never going to finish my work.” He looked gloomily at the stack of PMs and shook his head. “Now can you leave?”
“Not so fast, “Libitina said. “I have something else, some big news, that you might want to hear.” She gestured over at his stack of papers. “Probably bigger than any of the news you’ve got there.”
Akbar wondered if she knew about the ten really cool member murders, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “What is it?”
“That’s the thing. We don’t know. But Linda’s seen something, and it’s got her worried enough to go tearing through 667 to find Tragedy.”
“Hmm...I’ll see if we can fit it in. Maybe J. can work on that...hey, that reminds me. J.’s been investigating the really cool member deaths; I’m going to need her help anyway. Can you go find her?” Akbar asked.
“Sure,” Libitina said, and left immediately.
Knock-knock. No answer. Knock-knock. "Hey J.!" Libitina called. No answer. Knock-knock. No answer.
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