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In honor of Bob Hoskins:
I stared. I couldn't help it. My eyes were drawn away from Eddie to the figure leaning against the studio wall. Short and grey, he was favoring his co-star with an insouciant expression as he munched on what could only be a carrot (which, judging from the increasingly animated gestures, was infuriating the other). Eddie stopped talking and looked over his shoulder at what I was looking at. "What's the problem, Bob?"
"Is that...?" I trailed off, and looked at Eddie. "It is, isn't it?"
Eddie nodded. "He and the duck are shooting a short today."
"Excuse me for second, Eddie." I made my way across the lot, dodging a high-speed chapparal cock ( Accelerati incredibus) and the scavenger ( Carnivorus vulgaris) following it. Time seemed to slow for a moment, and then I was standing in front of him, unsure what to say.
It took a moment for the two to notice me; the duck was in mid-rant. Then, they turned their gaze to me, curiosity replacing their respective expressions of indifference and apoplexy. "He's a tall drink of sarthsparilla, ain't he?" said the duck to his co-star.
The other nodded slightly, acknowledging the comment, then turned back towards me. "Eh, what's up, Doc?"
Ebony the Black Dragon
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"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."
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*claps hands* Bravo! Bravo!
And yes, it's a sad loss. Only saw Mr. Hoskins in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but he was good.
Canadian lighthouse to U.S. Warship approaching it: "This is a lighthouse. Your call!"
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You'd never know that Eddie Valiant wasn't his actual accent unless you'd seen the talk show appearances...
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
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Indeed, bravo, Ebony.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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I think that one deserves to be at least mentioned in Drunkard's Walk XIII...
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Quote:Foxboy wrote:
You'd never know that Eddie Valiant wasn't his actual accent unless you'd seen the talk show appearances...
And I never have. It honestly shocked me to learn he was British.
Canadian lighthouse to U.S. Warship approaching it: "This is a lighthouse. Your call!"
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Quote:Foxboy wrote:
You'd never know that Eddie Valiant wasn't his actual accent unless you'd seen the talk show appearances...
Unless, you know, you actually watched something else he did, like "Unleashed" ("Danny the Dog" in Europe, I believe), "Hook", "Pink Floyd's The Wall", "Enemy at the Gates", or any interview he did on any of his films. 
Ebony the Black Dragon
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"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."
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I know Bob's already done an Ai Yori Aoshi nano-step. Consider this an omake.
I don't care how much I need the money.
I don't care how often I've taught in the past.
I don't care that nobody I know will ever find out.
I don't care that it's written in Japanese.
It's the principle of the thing. I refuse to be associated with something called "Marysue University"!
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Bob's already done a Big O nano-step, too... but this is something Doug would definitely notice.
Smith, Wainwright, Beck, Dastun - did everyone in this city get their names off of album covers, or something?
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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“Thank you, Colonel Sangnoir.”
“My pleasure,” I replied as I exchanged bows with Serizawa Ichiro before I turned back to gaze on the giant being that had mopped the streets of San Francisco with two MUTOs. He had been hurt in that fight, but with some help from yours truly, was quick to recover.
Of course, the city got nicely trashed along the way and there had been a lot of casualties, but given what those MUTOs were capable of doing, it could have been a lot worse.
“So why don't someone kill this ass-big th-…?!”
“HEY!”
I turned to gaze on a dishevelled businessman, who was now facing a scowling Ford Brody. Standing right beside him were his wife Elle — a nurse at a local hospital — and their son Sam. While both Ford — an EOD officer in the U.S. Navy — and his wife were glaring death at the loud-mouthed idiot who had swore in front of their son, Sam himself was gazing in awe at the thirty-five story walking apocalypse that Serizawa had called “Gojira.”
“Is Godzilla going to be okay now, mister?” he then asked me.
I gave him a thumbs-up…just as Gojira bellowed out that roar of his…
Canadian lighthouse to U.S. Warship approaching it: "This is a lighthouse. Your call!"
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A Double-Header For You Today. First...
06-17-2014, 06:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-21-2021, 09:15 AM by Bob Schroeck.)
"You're aware of the pseudonym she uses for you in her diary?" I asked.
"'Miss Girdle Fitz-Snugglie'? Clark told me one time when he was annoyed with her, thinking it would upset me." She smiled fondly. "Actually, I found it terribly sweet that Poddy's so concerned about my reputation when I'm considered little more than a scarlet woman in most circles these days. That I only got what I deserved when..." She trailed off thoughtfully.
I nodded knowingly. "This era's embrace of values practically out of the 1950s can't help. I'd note that these things go in cycles, but the pendulum probably won't swing fast enough to be of any use to you. At least in the short term."
"True enough," she sighed. "Still, that sweet child ignored all the talk and befriended me at the lowest point in my life. I will never forget that."
"Things are getting better for you now?"
"Oh, certainly! Venusberg has been a wonderful opportunity for a fresh start." Then she giggled. "My astounding resemblance to the glamorous Miss Fitz-Snugglie has served me in good stead. While my salary as a blackjack dealer by itself is barely enough to live on, the tips I've gotten for being a friendly 'celebrity look-alike' are already nearly one-quarter of what I need to buy my first share of Venus Corp stock."
I whistled appreciatively. "Not bad. Doesn't hurt that you've made the acquaintance of Dexter Cunha at Poddy's bedside, either."
She giggled again. "I think he and his father were both impressed with how protective I am of Poddy and her virtue. Dexter commented how nothing in my public image suggested I had so much 'Momma Bear' in me." She made a lazy clawing gesture in my direction and, smiling, added, "Grrrr!"
I threw my head back and laughed. "You are a woman of far greater depth and complexity than anyone knows, Miss Fitz-Snugglie."
"Oh, please," she said with a mock-haughty air. "You may call me 'Girdie'."
"Even in public?" I asked puckishly. "Imagine the talk that would cause."
-- Podkayne of Mars by Robert A. Heinlein
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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...and Second:
06-17-2014, 06:38 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-21-2021, 09:17 AM by Bob Schroeck.)
Trying to act nonchalant in the very alien uniform, Berger strolled back into Claude's barracks and plopped himself on the bunk in front of which he'd found him just a few minutes before. He very carefully ignored the surprised and suspicious looks from the other guys in the unit, and concentrated on just filling the Claude-shaped hole he'd created for as long as it took. No more than an afternoon, he was sure. Then Claude would return to the Army and the Tribe would get on the road back to New York. Or maybe L.A. -- Sheila'd been talking about hitting Hollywood.
Either way, no problem.
At least, it was no problem until a khaki-clad form appeared at the door to the barracks and the men around him leapt to sudden attention. As Berger scrambled to his feet in clumsy imitation of the others he felt a sense of profound deja vu, which only grew stronger as the obvious officer-type strode scowling down the center of the building, studying each soldier he passed. If Berger hadn't been worried about getting Claude busted, he would have been laughing his ass off -- this guy was doing exactly the same thing that Berger had only twenty minutes earlier to get Claude out of the base.
Including, he realized with a sudden chill of dread, stopping right in front of Claude's bunk.
The officer, whose boyish good looks were twisted by the scowl he wore, leaned forward until he was nose-to-nose with Berger and stared him in the eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Berger maintained his half-assed imitation of an "attention" stance until the officer snarled, "You. You're with me, soldier!" and turned on his heel.
Well, shit, Berger thought as he took off after the man. They caught me. Gotta convince'em it was all me, that I kidnapped Claude.
The officer headed out into open at a double-time pace that forced Berger to half-run to keep up with him. "Sir? Um, sir?"
The other man ignored him, keeping up the pace and leading him around to a sheltered area between several of the barracks buildings, where a number of covered wooden bins held god-knows-what. Then he turned around and fixed Berger with a stern glare. "Are you an asshole, son?" he growled.
Berger, still catching up, almost stumbled at that. The fuck? I asked Claude that same question right before I... Suspicion dawned in his mind. "Sir, no sir!" he replied just as Claude had.
"Good," said the officer, who had begun digging around in a pocket, in much milder tones. "That makes two of us." As Berger blinked at him, he pulled out something that looked like a wallet, only thinner, and then flipped it open. To his amazement, a three-dimensional image of the officer appeared, floating in the air and slowly spinning. A wall of text similarly hung in the air below and in front of it. "Mr. Berger," he went on, "My name is Colonel Douglas Q. Sangnoir. In about fifteen minutes, Mr. Bukowski's platoon will be deployed to Vietnam. We need to get you out of here and him back in before then, or there will be ten kinds of hell to pay."
Berger narrowed his eyes. "You're not Army, man."
A corner of Sangnoir's mouth quirked suddenly, an almost-smile that was gone as quickly as it had come. "Correct, and you're lucky I'm not. You could've ended up shot." He turned around, opened one of the bins, and rummaged around in it, coming up with of all things a futuristic-looking motorcycle helmet. "Which is never fun. Trust me," he added, pulling it on and reaching under the chin to fasten something.
"So how're we going to get me out and him in so fast, man?" Berger demanded. "It's fifteen minutes just to the gate from here."
Behind the black goggles that seemed to be part of the helmet, Sangnoir smirked at him. "This is the Age of Aquarius, soldier. All things are possible to the enlightened." He grabbed hold of Berger's shoulder. "Hold on."
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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Bob Schroeck Wrote:"You're aware of the pseudonym she uses for you in her diary?" I asked.
... Eimi's reaction: "OhMyGod, I'm in my favorite book EVER SQUEEEEE!!!"
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Quote:robkelk wrote:
Quote:Bob Schroeck wrote:
"You're aware of the pseudonym she uses for you in her diary?" I asked.
...
Eimi's reaction: "OhMyGod, I'm in my favorite book EVER SQUEEEEE!!!"
And sadly, so little way for her to interact with it, given the non-existent state of electronic computing in Heinlein's futures...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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Bob Schroeck Wrote:Quote:robkelk wrote:Quote:Bob Schroeck wrote:"You're aware of the pseudonym she uses for you in her diary?" I asked.
...
Eimi's reaction: "OhMyGod, I'm in my favorite book EVER SQUEEEEE!!!" And sadly, so little way for her to interact with it, given the non-existent state of electronic computing in Heinlein's futures...
That's probably for the best. If she started meddling, she might switch the story to the original ending by mistake - and she'd hate that.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Indeed. That scene, by the way, I sort of envision as being a moment of relaxation between Doug pulling the dying Poddy out of the Venusian outback and Doug going after whoever was behind Mrs. Grew...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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I stood awestruck at the foot, wondering what sort of people could build such a thing or why?
A fifty meter tall, solid wall - as tall as the St. Francis Dam - curving away towards the horizon. A quick back-of-the-envelope estimate told me that it must be at least 500 kilometres around - if it was fully circular. The engineer in me wondered how, offering respect towards anyone who could construct something even remotely like it. Even if , somehow, I didn't think they were fans of Roger Waters.
It was only then the I remembered. Walls are either built to keep something in, or something out.
And it didn't take me much longer to realise that I was on the wrong side.
- ________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
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Text no longer spoilered because it's no longer about a recently-released movie.
07-01-2014, 10:42 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-06-2021, 10:24 AM by Bob Schroeck.)
Drago Bloodfist clung to the back of the fleeing Leviathan with his one hand and cursed the island village of Berk, its dragons, and most of all the so-called "dragonmaster" with the ridiculous name. How dare they humilate him! How dare that puny, immature Night Fury challenge his alpha! How dare it win! "I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU ALL!" he howled into wind and surf. "I WILL REBUILD MY DRAGON ARMY, AND I WILL DESTROY BERK AND EVERYTHING THAT LIVES ON THAT GODSFORSAKEN ROCK!"
"No. No, you won't." The calm voice that seemed to come from all around him was almost as much a shock as his defeat had been. Drago twisted himself around as far as he could without losing his grip on the Leviathan's scales, sending his soaked braids flailing about and spraying water -- more water -- into his face.
"WHO DARES?" he bellowed.
"I dare," the voice replied, and something appeared in Drago's peripheral vision -- a helmeted man in grey, riding on some kind of device that skimmed along well above the water, easily keeping pace with the racing Leviathan. The sight was so unexpected that Drago for once was at a loss for words.
"Hiccup is a good man, a forgiving man," the figure in grey said, impossibly audible over the roar of rushing wind and water. "But I am not. I know that if you can possibly avoid it, you never leave an enemy alive to come back and threaten you a second time. And you are the greatest enemy Hiccup and Berk have ever faced." The man in grey raised the hand closest to Drago, and to his shock a blue-white glow formed around it.
"What witchcraft..." Drago murmured, but the man in grey ignored him.
"Good-bye, Drago Bloodfist," he said. And then Drago's world turned white.
-- How To Train Your Dragon 2
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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Your spoilers aren't working for some reason.
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
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Jorlem Wrote:Your spoilers aren't working for some reason. Try turning JavaScript on, then reloading the page.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Quote:robkelk wrote:
Quote:Jorlem wrote:
Your spoilers aren't working for some reason.
Try turning JavaScript on, then reloading the page.
Didn't help.
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
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I can't offer any suggestions -- it's a Yuku thing, and frankly, it works just fine for me.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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Weird. Sometimes I think Yuku just doesn't like me.
-----
Stand between the Silver Crystal and the Golden Sea.
"Youngsters these days just have no appreciation for the magnificence of the legendary cucumber." --Krityan Elder, Tales of Vesperia.
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This wasn't one of the more cheerful worlds I'd visited.
It wasn't one of the worst, either - life went on, the world's population hadn't taken a sudden plunge, music wasn't outlawed or anything absurd like that - but being locked away from the world's oceans seemed to have taken something vital from the people here.
I was in Japan, of course, which didn't help. A nation of islands didn't deal well when it was nearly impossible to safely move between them. You could safely call the local economy 'suicidal'.
And here I was, sitting on a cliff at the end of a cape, looking out at one of the reasons why.
Warships of mysterious origin and incredible power, that had just appeared out of an unnatural fog and proceeded to annihilate everything that dared put to sea. There was a bit of data on their capabilities - weapon yields, response times, observed speeds, the fact that they were apparently made out of universal nanomachines... But what they wanted?
Nobody knew, any more than they knew why they'd been built to look like Second World War warships, or where the equally-mysterious girls that seemed to command them these days had come from.
"System, Load Song. Kansas - Lightning's Hand."
So, as Mister Owl said, Let's find out!
"Play song."
I'd seen some dense dataweaves in my time, but this one was a doozy, twisting around in torrents of information that I couldn't piece together from the outside.
I reached out and touched one, and before you could say 'another square state full of corn,' I was sitting, in full combat gear, at a wrought iron table under a gazebo in some kind of garden.
There was a girl - late teens, early twenties at most - sitting in the chair opposite me. I wondered if one of the criteria for these people's recruitment standards was being a model; she had the face for it, and the great tracts of land, and the crazy fashion-plate outfit.
Today's theme seemed to be 'librarian', from the glasses and jacket and the way she had her hair up.
"Ennnnh, what's up, Doc?" I Rabbit'd.
"How did you access this place?" she asked me, just like I hadn't said a thing. Okaaaayyy...
"Where's here?" I asked, though I could take a guess. Some kind of chatroom between the nodes of that titanic weave I'd seen on my way in - between these mystery ships.
"This is the Tactical Network. You're a human, you shouldn't be able to perceive it, let alone gain access." Aside from the slight frown, her face and voice were completely expressionless. "How did you access this place?"
It was like talking to an AI, and not one of the clever ones.
"I command the lightning's hand," I quoted back at her.
"Kansas, nineteen seventy-seven," she answered instantly, then the frown deepened. "Electrical control. But parahuman powers are supposed to be fictional."
Okay, strike the 'not clever' bit. Maybe a very young one? That obviously didn't interact with people much. "A magician has to keep some secrets."
Her air of puzzlement faded, in favor of an equally subdued amusement. "I'll have to remain curious, then."
Years of honed instinct shouted at me, and I dropped the connection immediately.
" The north wind rises, old man's eyes wondering deeply as he locks his door," Steve Walsh sang as I snapped back into the real world. Out at sea, the battleship had surged into motion, green light dancing along its flanks as it turned broadside on to me.
I could see the main turrets swinging towards me, barrels coming apart into emitter arrays as the ship - the same AI I'd just been talking to - prepared to wipe me from the face of the universe.
I vamoosed.
Aoki Hagane no Arpeggio, because I feel like the Little Sister Brigade could do with a thirty-thousand-ton battleship. ===========
===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."
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Heh. Might have a bit of trouble carrying her along on GGG, though.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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