Things are getting very exciting here.
Continued from Muse Fanfiction, v. 2008.1.
These are not RRRs but solo projects which share the same thread. Start your own, or just stop by and visit.
Patience, Please
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The bullet whined across the room, shattered an ornamental plate on the wall and ricocheted back over Tardiff’s head.
Of the nine capsules in which the artificial Muses drifted, only one was completely opaque. The bullet punctured one of the tubes trailing from it and struck a port to which a fat cluster of wires was attached.
Red warning lights flicked on, and clouds of freezing vapor belched from the machine’s base. The capsule cracked open, and a highly unusual figure dropped to the ground.
Its head was angular and wedge-shaped. The back was about two inches wide, tapering towards a front end that measured slightly over a centimeter. Three spiky, flexible wires protruded from the top, and three identical ones from the back. The head was connected to the body by a thin, short neck. The body itself consisted of two cones connected at the apex on a ball-and-socket joint. Two legs and two arms protruded from it, both ridiculously thin. The entire creature was matte black, with no visible features.
Tardiff staggered to his feet, breathing deeply, and pulled a small object from his pocket. It looked like a TV remote, except for the two metallic prongs protruding from its business end. TMFA recognized it as a shutdown gun, used to terminate malfunctioning androids.
Just as Tardiff reached the prone form, it jumped to its feet and vaulted over his head with remarkable agility, executing a triple backflip before landing among the scattered papers near his desk.
“Come back here!” the furious man shouted. The dark figure obeyed. In fact, it body-slammed him with considerably more force than one would expect from a spindly robot. It then proceeded to gag him with his own Kokopelli-print pocket handkerchief.
“Can’t give me any orders now, can ya, punk?” it taunted him, and dashed over to the autochef in the corner of the room as Tardiff struggled with the knot.
Three flexible fingers unfolded from each of its hands, which before had appeared as simple black spikes, and it began typing rapidly into the autochef’s controls.
REQUESTED INGREDIENT NOT IN INVENTORY. PLEASE INSERT.The creature bounded across the room, seized Tardiff’s golf bag, and poured sixteen balls into the machine’s spout. It then leaped to the top of a bookshelf and thence to the expensive chandelier, which it proceeded to swing from, whistling jauntily.
“You– !” Tardiff shouted inarticulately. “Come down! Now!”
The creature obeyed. It tugged the chain loose from the ceiling, descending in a shower of crystal and plaster.
Tardiff howled with rage at his tormentor, standing in the remnants of his $100,000 chandelier. “You- all the Muses- are stupid, conniving, disobedient wretches! &*%#$+ SOUP!”
“No-one makes fun of the Muses, pal!” the creature yelled back, at truly astounding volume. It raced to the autochef and pulled out the finished dish- a cherry pie.
Tardiff gaped for about half a second. Then a combination of fruit, baked goods, and hard rubber balls impacted his face at speeds that would have done credit to a Jimmy Morris fastball. He toppled backward and struck his head on his desk, slumping to the floor.
The being dusted off its hands. “That’s my job. Have a pie, punk.”
It rummaged through the contents of the desk drawers, finally finding a large roll of duct tape. It peeled the somewhat squashed pastry off the Muse President’s face and proceeded to restrain him with the tape, taking extra care to secure his mouth.
As the Musers gaped openly, it reached into Tardiff’s pocket and pulled out a satellite holophone, tossing it to Alice. “You might need to make a call.”
No sooner had she caught it than an image appeared on the small screen. Meriwether, with dark shadows under his eyes and his hair in disarray. Lionel floated next to him.
“You guys did great,” Meriwether said. “Hang in there- Terpsichore and Polyhymnia will be landing offshore in a few hours. I’m patching you through to DL. Would you put Songbird or Spice on?”
He glanced at his own screen, then did a double take. “But before you do that, would you mind explaining to me why Ronald Tardiff is being tied up by Kokopelli?”
EPILOGUE
The brass band belted out a rousing rendition of “Have a Pie” as Ministers Coontz, Baker, Lasley, Spector and Lutz took the oath of office.
“…to serve, guide and protect the Republic of Muse and the citizens therein, to foster an attitude of Musery throughout the Quorld, to… ”
Beavo tuned out and took a sip of Urani-Blast, which he’d been practically addicted to ever since his flight on the Terpsichore.
Traggle spoke from her seat next to him. “Great, huh?”
“Yeah, no kidding. This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened in the history of Muse!”
Traggle didn’t reply, staring out across Lake Michigan with an inscrutable expression.
“Why so gloomy?” Beavo inquired. “Come on! Mostly Harmless has been fulfilled! This is what we worked toward for years!”
Traggle managed a half-smile. “I’m just thinking about the Muses. I mean, how are they going to survive? They can’t just go out and get a job! People will either want their autographs or try to kill them! They’re not built for everyday life. They were programmed to inspire, to… to advance humankind, to teach… ”
She trailed off, and a genuine grin spread across her face.
“Teach?” Beavo queried. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I think so. Pack your bags.” She winked. “Iceland, here we come.”
YEAH! GREAT JOB!
(on other thread) 358,360- Well, you sort of are trying to kidnap her.
After 3 threads, the Muse Schism epic is finally finished! Whew!! *wipes brow*
On that note: Who wants to appear in my next fanfic? Please state your current age, your country (or state if in the US) of origin, and general description (note: you will not be appearing in the strictest sense, but there will be people who are “analogues” of you).
We should make another one! With me in it! A sequel, perhaps?
5-Me! Conneticut, 12, Brown Hair, Eyes, Good with computers/writing.
Who wants to be in mine?
6- No, I’m not doing a sequel. But if you want to feature in my next one, see post 5.
7- All right- *mumbles to self* Bostonian… calculating engine… pamphlets… zeppelin…
And sure, I’d like to be in yours.
5 – I’d like to. Washington (State, not DC), green eyes, blond hair about to my shoulders, good at writing and computers and soccer
10- All right- *mumbles to self* Oregon Country… football enthusiast…
2- It was the most awesome story I’d read all month! Thanks so much!
5- Do you want my human cover or my real ET identity?
I need on more person, and a GAPA to start with.
12- Human cover, please.
Tom McFarlane=TMFA
Cynthia Masterson=Cat’s Meow
I’ll continue this list later.
Once I have three people’s descriptions, I will begin writing the story. But (unlike my previous fanfic) you can apply to join at any time during the narrative until I say otherwise.
15 – Red hair, green eyes, tallish. Likes computers, the arts and cooking. Location: Maryland
16- Gabriella Harding. *mumbles* cooking… Baltimore… politics…
~
Abby Johnson was jolted out of her deep sleep by a loud noise that her fuddled mind at first refused to identify. Then she realized it was a gunshot, and her feet were out of bed and running down the hall before the rest of her figured out what was going on.
She skidded to a halt in front of her great-uncle’s room and pulled open the door.
Everything seemed to become slow and dreamlike. The scene in front of her was ludicrous at first. Her eyes traveled slowly, unbelieving, over the two men sprawled on the floor, the shattered wineglass, the knife embedded deep in the woodwork.
The room contracted and swayed, then plummeted down a long tunnel into absolute darkness.
~
Two miserable days later, and Abby was sitting listlessly on the porch, wearing a black dress that was far too frilly for her taste, and also two sizes too big. The official fellow who had arrived the day before was sitting next to her, looking ill at ease.
“And, ah, since your late great-uncle was your only relative, a… hmm… guardian has been appointed to, er, look after you until, ah… I believe that’s her horseless coming now.â€
The horseless chugged up the steep, gravelly road, engine screeching in protest, wheels spinning to gain purchase. It was one of the newfangled galvanic ones, running on nothing more than the electricity produced by an oversized Leyden jar, and Abby was surprised it had managed to make it this far.
The door clicked open, and a woman stepped out.
The first thing that Abby noticed was her boots. Large boots, in a shade of shocking violet. She had long, curly, light hair, which framed a friendly-looking face, currently red with the effort of lugging several oversized carpetbags.
The official gave a surprised snort. “Wha… ? You weren’t who I was told to expect!â€
“I’m not surprised,†the other replied. “Few people are sufficiently imaginative to describe me accurately.†She dropped her bags with a rustle and a clatter, and stuck out her hand. “Becky Lassen, at your service.â€
14- Short brown hair, hazel eyes, wears brown glasses. Not good at any sports except long-distance running and scuba diving. Lives in New York.
I’m sticking some people in here, if you don’t want to be in it, tell me.
~~~
The Man Steps out of the cab into the rain. He opens a Lime Green Umbrella and walks into the cemetery.
He walks along the graves and Finds the rest of his party already at the Grave. Some are weeping. some are putting flowers on the grave. the Man walks up to the grave. he takes a small box from his coat. he removes the top and places a small button on top of the grave. It’s looks like a campaign button, but It’s for no campaign anyone’s heard of.
Kokopelli and Gonick ’12 reads the button. He looks up from the button at the headstone.
“Larry Gonick, Age 60 (?) ,Murder, Cartoonist. Rip.”
and at the top of the headstone is a symbol. most have skulls with wings, or something like that. this one doesn’t. It has a Bunny. A Bunny with a Hot Pink Outline.
~~~
Later on, in a bus on the other side of chiago, The Man Talks to the Rest of the group.
“Who do you think killed him?”
“POSOC, I have no idea. Why would anyone kill him? He’s a cartoonist for a magazine, and writes books about the history of the world in cartoon format.”
“Rebecca, your right.” said the one called POSOC. “But it’s so odd.”
19- Oh, somebody killed him. I thought the “Murder” on the headstone meant something entirely different…
5- 14, Washington/Oregon, look on the kokon thread. Although no doubt I’m far too late.
TMFA, see above.
5- NH, blonde, to about my shoulders, 12, grammar whiz, green/blue eyes, likes chocolate, loves cats, types fast, good with plastic light sabers.
19- NO!!! Larry!
That was great, POSOC, just great. Bravo! *sniff*
Copy and Paste, here I come. Pardon the double post.
Oh yeah, and…
I, Beavo, hereby give permission to be featured in any MuseBlogger’s fanfiction, story, or other work of creative writing.
Name: Beavo (the Online Stalker Spy Dude Person)
DOB: April 8th, ‘95
Physical Appearance: Exactly five feet, a-bit-lower-than-ear-lobe-length hair, a-bit-darker-than-auburn color. Naturally crazy, un-naturally straight. Explosive in the morning. Pale face/body, skinny arms and legs. Small bony hands with stick-out knuckles and pop-out vains. Thin fingers. Never has completely clean hands; almost constantly bearing messages, pen marks, marker marks, or dirty nails. Tiny feet.
Face: The circle kind plus a squarish chin. Dark brown eyes. Nothing to pinch on cheeks.
Clothes: Usually wears some sort of dark colored baggy long sleeve shirt. Also dark blue baggy jeans with black cloth belt. Goldish colored frame buckle. Black ankle socks, grey shoes with black laces and green HAWK across the back and sides. Black zip up hoodie with grey inside.
Personality: Outgoing, sarcastic, cynical and funny in public/school, but insightful and serious in private/at home. Supposedly sarcastic and cynical no matter what location. Can occupy self at any given time at any given location with any given objects. Can find something funny out of ABSOLUTLY EVERYTHING. Has less respect for authority than most but respect all the same. Paranoid constantly although it’s generally concealed. Strongly cares about certain topics. Tends to have long and deep conversations on the phone.
WARNING: TO NOT ANGER IMMENSLY. WILL EXPLODE.
Future distinguishing marks: Tatoo of a black belt across back, and the chorus to “Scars†by Papa Roach down upper arm.
Habits: Blogging, creating mixed beverages, writing, and reading.
Obsessions: Harry Potter, music.
I’m 15, introverted, and have three other personalities (sort of, they’re imaginary).
I didn’t mean to post that, but now that I have, I guess you can use me. I like computers, drawing, and things that are funny.
I always did want a mohawk…
This is unrelated to my current fanfic, but related to my previous one.
I’m trying to divvy up the post-Mostly Harmless world into five districts- one ruled by each GAPA and one by DL. Suggestions as to boundaries, bases of operations and considerations would be appreciated.
I might continue my old one, so if you’d like to be in that, please say so.
After a dreadful hour or so, shaking under the blankets, Lena finally managed to slip into a light sleep.
But it must have been heavier than she had imagined, because when she awoke, she was most positively, certainly, not in her own bed. She sat bolt upright and gasped.
It was the nicest, coziest, room she had ever been in. Her own bedroom was sparsely furnished, as was the fashion, in blue and grey. She had had her own small holonet-generator on the bookshelf, along with her small collection of books and much larger collection of holodiscs. Apart from her bed and dresser, that had been all. This room was crowded and cheery, with a thick carpet and warm colors. There were distinct signs of it having been lived in, a series of framed pictures of the dresser, a host of worn stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, a ceiling-tall bookshelf crammed with books, and a curious flat device on a paper-littered desk. It had an odd symbol in the middle of it, which glowed with a blue-ish light.
And despite all these signs of life, the room had that empty smell, as though it had been ages since anyone had spent time in it. The thick quilts smelled musty.
Lena’s fear had been driven down to the back of her mind, to lurk there until she was sure that this was no dream, like the strangers outside her window. Had that been real? Probably not. And therefore, there was no reason to suppose that this was real.
Lena climbed out of the bed. She was wearing her pajamas, which only lent to the oddity of the scene. She crossed the room and opened the closet, revealing an interesting assortment of clothing. She stroked a long green velevety skirt. That, too, was musty. She closed the closet door, and went over to the dresser. A comb, a bristle brush, a jewelry box – and the pictures. She lifted one. A girl in a pink sweater, laughing. Another depicted the same girl, lips pressed together, sitting at a carved desk writing furiously with a red pen. Then the same girl, much older, not really a girl anymore, surrounded by serious-looking people. Lena looked closer at this one. A few faces jumped out of this at her. She looked closer. Surely that was Kokonilly from the night before? And that, that was speller73. One more woman looked familiar, KaiYves probably. And there, right beside KaiYves, TMFA, without a mustache.
She slammed down the picture. This was either a well-connected dream, or a disturbing reality.
There was no window, she noted. The door was bolted. The once-lovely little room frightened her now. What had happened to the girl? Why wasn’t she living in her room? When would all this be explained properly?
29- Exciting!
29- More! More! More!
OK, OK.
~
As if in answer to all her prayers, the door swung open. speller73 stood there, and with a slightly apologetic smile, she motioned Lena to follow her. The girl saw no other choice, and so she stepped out after speller. They walked down a windowless hallway. The walls were lined with doors, some of which bore peeling stickers, or pictures, or the occasional metal plaque. Lena had counted twenty of them before speller finally opened one and beckoned Lena in after her.
This room was equally windowless, but larger than Lena’s, with a tan carpet and a round table. There was room for many more people, but only six sat, at the far end, a sad-looking bunch. speller took her place beside them, and one of them waved Lena into a chair. All of this was done in utmost silence.
“Where is this?” asked Lena at last. “Who are you?”
Still silence. Lena scrutinized the half-circle of people. They were rather young, and very grim. KaiYves, speller, TMFA, and Kokonilly were there, as well as three other men whom she had never seen before, a tired-looking young man with a snow jacket and a thin beard, an almost insubstantial fellow with black hair, and – Lena gasped – mechanical hands ((this seems to be a theme. Beavo and TMFA both lost their hands. I could use that…)), which glinted silver, and a seemingly much older man than the rest, very thin, with odd, mismatched eyes. He wore a tan trenchcoat.
“Who are you?” she asked again, desperately.
“We’re MuseBloggers,” said Snow Jacket. “Or used to be.”
Mechanical Hands took a slightly different approach. “I’m Beavo,” he said. “This is Gim -” he indicated the man with the snow jacket “- and this is POSOC. The rest of us, you’ve already met.”
Over the next five minutes, Abby learned the following things about Miss Lassen: she was from the Carolinas, she was a professional artist, and she liked to talk. She also had a tattoo, a little, hunchbacked, flute-playing stick figure on the back of her right hand. Abby found this somewhat shocking, as the only people she’d heard of who had tattoos were savages in the French East Indies. Miss Lassen did not seem self-conscious about it, however. Immediately upon reaching the dining hall, she unfolded a compact easel from her carpetbag and affixed a canvas to it. Removing various paraphernalia from her luggage, she quickly set about painting, while Abby fidgeted nearby.
“I suppose you’d like to see your great-uncle’s effects?” she asked after a few minutes.
Abby peered over her shoulder. The painting taking shape under her clever brush was very strange indeed.
POSOC- May I join your fanfiction?
State: Washington (and) Oregon, you can pick whichever suits your taste better
Age: 14
Looks: See kokonvention thread
Interests: Reading, writing, theater, science
34- You’re Audrey Westlund.
So far I have Audrey Westlund (Alice), Tom McFarlane (TMFA), Cynthia Masterson (Cat’s Meow), Gabriella Harding (groundhog22), Mary Sanders (MissSwann) and Karla Young (KaiYves).
I’ll be in anything anyone wants me to be in.
I’m a girl.
I have somewhat pale skin.
I change my hair color. Right now it is blond with brown under it, and in the summer it will have blue streaks. It’s about shoulder length with bangs.
I’m about 5’4″ and pretty skinny.
I paint my nails a lot.
I wear a lot of black, but I also like bright colors.
I am told I have an extremely soft voice.
I like to stay up late.
I like birds and bats a lot.
hmmmm, what about cinamoon’s fanfic? It hasn’t showed up here.
“Why did you bring me here?” asked Lena again.
“I believe,” said POSOC, “that TMFA has already explained that.”
“He didn’t! He didn’t explain anything about what you want with me!”
A timeline…
Aug. 2005 – MB created
Feb. 29, 2012 – MH goes into action
Dec. 31, 2012 – Lena born
Dec. 2012 – MBer betrays fellows
Dec. 31, 2012 – Traitor vanishes
2013 – MBers forced into hiding
2013 – Muse goes out of business
2016 – Small party of MBers vanishes
Dec. 2023 – Lena kidnapped
“if It’s O.k., I’d just like to state that Atlantis 2 has launched.” said KaiYves.
“This is not the time for Space Talk. It’s not the Time for Hot Pink Bunny talk. Who murdered Larry?” said TMFA, moving towards the front of the bus. He was trying to pick up a signal for his cell phone.
“I don’t know, but How can we find out?” asked Roseanna.
~~~
The next day on the blog:
~~~
LATTER!
“There’s a reason for that,” said Beavo slowly.
“Then give me the reason! Tell me something!” Lena was on the brink of a tantrum like she hadn’t had since she was four.
KaiYves leaned forward. “Well…”
A pause. The lights hummed. Lena felt like screaming. Why were all these people so reluctant to talk?
“We don’t know.”
“What?” Lena exclaimed. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“We don’t know how you fit in. We don’t know what your purpose is. We just don’t know.”
“Some years ago,” began POSOC, “a little scouting party of MuseBloggers left the ‘headquarters’, led by a devoted member of the kokonspiracy. At 1:30 we received a message telling us to look for a child named Lena Grady. We sent a response, asking why, who was this child, but no answer came. And they never returned. Since then, we’re the only MuseBloggers left. Us seven.”
“Um, yes, I suppose so,” she said cautiously, and Miss Lassen rolled up the canvas before she could get a clear view of it.
Both of them ascended the long, winding stairs to the attic. Despite everything, Abby was curious. She’d never been allowed in there before.
When Miss Lassen finally wrenched open the door, a whirlwind of dust blasted out. Abby sneezed twice, then stepped into the room beyond.
It was dark and musty, and she couldn’t see a thing. Behind her, she could hear Miss Lassen fumbling in her capacious pockets. Then, with a snap, she turned on a portable Leyden torch.
The items in the attic were too numerous to categorize or count, but one towered over the rest. It was an enormous iron strongbox covered in flaking rust. A tag dangled from one of the rivets that studded it.
The paper was old and crumbling, but parts were still legible.
Benjamin Fr…
16 March, 177…
See note 156 f…
She turned around to see Miss Lassen staring at the strongbox with a rapt expression. It lasted for about half a second. Then she shook her head and smiled a touch too brightly. “Gloomy up here, isn’t it?”
Over the rest of the day, Abby came to the conclusion that her guardian was a bit touched in the head. Miss Lassen spent most of her time painting furiously, adding new depths and lengths of strangeness to her work. Most of it was abstract, but there were a few recognizable symbols among the swirls of color. Masonic signs mingled freely with unfamiliar hieroglyphs like stylized rabbit faces. The tattoo on the back of her hand was echoed several times.
By the time Abby went to bed, she was somewhat unnerved. Who could this mysterious woman be? A kidnapper? A spy? A member of some bizarr cult? And what could she want?
When Abby finally dropped off to sleep, she dozed fitfully for an hour or two before being rudely awakened again.
36- Whoah. You’re a girl?????!!!!??
35-Me! Me! *waves hand frantically*
POSOC and Alice are probably the best writers under sixteen that I’ve ever
metencountered. Anything they write is superb.And so far, nobody wants to be in mine.
35 – I’ll be in yours. I’m a 12-year-old girl. I have long brown curly hair and glasses. I am extremely short.
44- Thank you.
*ridiculously pleased*
And I would like to be in yours. I was reading through the thread but I forgot to say that…
I’d also like to be in TMFA’s.
46- just give me time
Miss Lassen was standing by her bed, reading a letter by the light of a dimmed Leyden torch.
“The acanthus,” she muttered. “And the eye. Danger, with Anna’s sigil. Get dressed. We need to go.”
“Where?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Don’t wear anything too nice- I don’t want it getting messed up.”
As Abby exchanged her nightgown for a faded, worn hand-me-down blue dress, Miss Lassen paced the room like the proverbial caged tiger, checking her pockets repeatedly.
“Come on,” she said. “Up to the attic. We have to get the strongbox.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Abby was feeling confused, cross and just a bit frightened, although she wouldn’t have admitted it.
*waits for cinamoon*
Ok, I’m here. Can I just say, NO ONE IN MY FANFIC IS DEAD!
“This doesn’t feel right,” POSOC muttered, as the trio of former bloggers strode down the dark, metallic corridor, “We should have encountered problems by now.”
“According to my information, they should be in this,” Kai Yves pointed, “cell. Gimantor?” Gimantor produced a slender silver box, and went in close to the box. None of the other two could see what he was doing, but it worked. The door swung smoothly open.
39- “This is not the time for Space Talk. It’s not the Time for Hot Pink Bunny talk.”
Brilliant line.
I’LL BE IN ANYONE’S FANFIC.
If you need my profile, just shout.
I shall be in anyone’s. Need a more detailed profile? I’m on it. Actually, PLEASE let me be in your fanfics.
The Next Day on the blog:
Kokonilly June 25th, 2010 at 1:01 pm
lets look at the facts. there was no blood.
MissSwann June 25th, 2010 at 1:02 pm
Your right. who could there be no blood?
Alice June 25th, 2010 at 1:03 pm
Some new weapon?
52- Profile. Include age. You may be the MBer who changes history. Literally.
~
“There’s no time to explain. You have to trust me!” Miss Lassen exclaimed, a wild look in her eyes. “Please.”
Abby chewed her lower lip. She certainly sounded genuinely distressed. And if she was really crazy, humoring her might prevent her from doing something unpleasant.
Hmm. How can I get UP and MissSwann into my fanfic? I’ll have to work on that…
And what’s going to happen next. What is going to happen next? I know where the stories going… Aha.
But I can’t write this bit at the moment. Later, maybe. When I’m not all alone, and it’s not nighttime.
56- Frightening part coming up?
57- Not frightening as such, but it probably will involve alarms of some sort, and when I’m alone on the house it’s hard enough to distract myself without thinking about alarms.
“All right,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”
Miss Lassen didn’t respond, but seized her hand and practically dragged her down the hall and up the staircase to the attic.
She waded through the morass of dusty crates and seized hold of one end of the strongbox, lifting it off the ground with a grunt. Abby tried to heft her own end, and gasped in surprise. It was enormously heavy, and she couldn’t see how they were to carry it out.
Miss Lassen reached up and tore at the boards covering the attic’s solitary window. The nails came out with a rusty screech. Wrapping her tattooed hand in a cloth, the woman punched through the glass and picked up her end of the box again.
Abby’s mouth dropped open in shock. Hovering outside the house was a trim, medium-sized airship with a dirty white envelope and a rickety gondola.
55 – Here you go.
Age: 11
, t-shirt (in the summer) with no words, knit hat… either Crocs or lime green tennis shoes. Also owns Kokopelli necklace purchased at the Hoover Dam, to be worn at will.
Hair color: blackish-brown
Eye color: brown
Personality: a bit arrogant at times, shy to strangers, outgoing to friends, HUGE procrastinator, intelligent, can be annoying if I feel like it
Gender (maybe that should have been first): female
Most Likely To Be Seen Wearing: jeans, long-sleeved shirt (at this time of year) that has been purchased from Children’s Place
Anything else?
Oops. I forgot something. Sorry for the double post.
I have brown elliptical glasses, too big for my face, and lime green braces.
I’m also allergic to mosquito bites, two types of dust mites, cat dander, dog dander, ragweed, pollen, the seasons spring and fall, and… well… you get my point. No food allergies, though, but a possible allergy to alcohol. (My mom’s allergic to it, and I got all of her allergies 10x worse. You never know.)
W-o-w. And here I am not allergic to anything.
Alice, I don’t care who I am. Just don’t make me married to Beavo or something equally terrible.
62 –
That would be hilarious!!!!!!!! You deserve it, too, not having any allergies and all. *is extremely jealous*
I have very bad eyesight. You could work that into it somehow… I lose my glasses?
63- I feel your pain. Truly. I’m allergic to dairy, gluten and corn syrup. Which basically makes me unable to eat yogurt, cheese, milk, chocolate, bread of any kind, grain of any kind except corn and rice, and any sort of candy. Also, the remedy I’m taking to cure those allergies will be disrupted if I have anything with mint or artificial sweeteners in it.
Fortunately, by the time I’m an adult, they predict that I’ll have grown out of most of these (except the dairy. That I’m stuck with for life, and it also elicits the most severe reaction, which is why I put it in my descriptions.)
64- Ouch. Can you eat butter?
*thinks* I probably shouldn’t talk, since I have no allergies as far as I can tell, but if you look on the bright side, you’d probably have a much easier time on the hundred-mile diet than I would. You’re already used to not eating bread, and chocolate and sugar are hard to get if you don’t live in the right area (although you might… I remember when I lived in California there was sugar cane of some sort). Candy is overrated, for the most part. Life without ice cream would be hard, though.
Oh, yes. The hundred-mile diet. It was supposed to go into effect right after my fourteenth birthday… And here I am seven months later and I still haven’t even tried to live without bread.
65- No.
Is the hundred-mile diet where you only eat stuff that comes from a hundred miles around or closer?
66- Yes. The thing is, out of the grains and starches food group, all that grows within a hundred miles is potatoes.
There’s plenty of meat, dairy, vegetables, etc., but NO GRAIN. Not even corn or rice. I could easily live without sugar, and with more difficulty drop chocolate, and I haven’t had coffee in a good long while, but no grain would be really, really, hard. And then there’s the fact that it’s winter and nothing’s growing anyway.
I shall have to start hibernating.
64 – Rice is good. Bread is weird. No choklit??? *hyperventilates*
52-*shouts* But in about fifteen years.
(That goes for Alice, too. And Misswan.)
(And anybody else who wants to be in my Fanfic.)
62-*gasp* What– how–? *storms off* (JK, JK).
63-I’m laughing my head off. *isn’t*
I only have two allergies. Some sort of medicine, and dust mites.
69 – ????????????? I don’t get that first part. (Sorry, a little tired here.)
69- OK. Hmm. I’ll have to think about that.
69- Well, I would have to cheat on Hawk.
63- I hates you for hating me.
72- *brain implodes*
Name: Alice W.
Date of Birth: 8-21-1993
Other stuff: She works as a high school Writing/English teacher in some coastal place, it matters not where. In the summer, she goes sailing. She has a large library, well-stocked with Shakespeare’s works, among others, and makes up for not having pursued a career on the stage with a perpetually theatrical air. She has written and published a few books, which are moderately successful.
69 – Ah. I understand now. (At midnight.)
Name: Kokonilly, but real name Samantha ******.
DOB: July 3, 1996
Age: 26, right?
Hair color: blackish-brown
Eye color: brown
Has glasses (but considerably improved eyesight after getting LACIK), and very straight teeth
Outgrew some allergies, but is still allergic to mosquito bites.
Profession: respected scientist/author/historian/inventor.
Lives on the beach. If you MUST make me married (I would prefer it if I were single, but it’s OK if I’m happily married), at least make me married to a nice, intelligent, good-looking guy who liked Muse (please, not a MBer — O the pain!).
I would also prefer myself to be happy, but if it’s like other fanfics, and the MBers go into hiding (I get confused, reading three fanfics at once), PLEASE let me have my sanity and all of my limbs.
(Sorry for the double post?)
I think I shall start my own fanfic soon. Who wants to be in it? *waits for over load of “pick me”s*
76-*raises hand to avoid confusion* What are the settings for the descriptions?
76- *also raises hand*
Age: 14
Physical Description: See Spokane Kokonvention thread
Personality: Shy, intelligent, cheerful, awkward at times, serious (usually)
Allergies: Not exactly an allergy, but is lactose intolerant
76 – I’ll do it. I think I have enough descriptions on this thread.
77 – Hm. I’m not sure. Any suggestions? I know I want a relatively small cast, maybe 5-7 people.
76- Pick me [waves hand frantically]
There could be an Evil Muse and we all have to stop it.
76- Moi? See descriptions scattered all over the place…
82 – And pictures. Can’t forget pictures.
76 – Me too, if you’d like.
Name: Cat’s Meow/Cat/Meow
Age: 13
Location: Eastern Washington
Description: See Kokonvention pictures
Interests: Computers, Chatting Online, Soccer
76- Description:
Blonde to about my shoulders, five eight, twelve, likes animals, lives in NH, likes reading, online stuff, Harry Potter, my kittens, and ummm… not being in school.
Okay.
CHARACTERS (so far):
giminator – (no description yet)
¡Ã߀ƒ! – short description, I still need to check the Spokane thread
Speller – (no description, I’m too lazy to hunt all over the thread; more later)
Missswann – Nice description.
Alice – (again, too lazy to look for a description now)
Cat’s Meow – see ¡Ã߀ƒ!
Evil Muse? I love it. *thinks* I will return.
85-mehehehee. giminator. what is the setting? future? elizebethan? I WANT to give you my description.
AGAH! I have an urge to break down all rules of time in the next peice of writing I post. Zepplins, dinosaurs, swords. But it’ll have to wait. I feel lazy.
A young man about Abby’s age was dangling from a frayed, unsafe-looking rope winched about his waist and attached to the gondola.
88-? is that for me? or your story?
72-*has nothing to say but feels like saying something because a reply is obviously needed*
76-Me! Me! Me! *waves hand frantically*
My [tiny] cast (so far… c’mon, people!):
Alice
Kokonilly
Misswan
*sniff* Nobody else?
90-okay. I’ll be in it. settings for description?
89-ohhhh…yours. that would be a good thread. if other MBers made the first sentance, and then others had to write off of it.
86 – I did say giminator. I think it shall be in the Elizabethan times. We time-traveled back, and encounter an evil Muse.
Cast:
giminator, ¡Ã߀ƒ!, Speller, Missswann, Alice, Cat’s Meow, Beavo. Maybe me.
TIME PERIOD: ELIZABETHAN ( I need descriptions, people! Make yourself interesting… no need for your real self [not that you’re uninteresting]. Make it up!)
92 – That’s a bit what the RRRs are like.
Or do you mean each person would write their own?
94-as in-one person writes the first sentance, then everybody writes their own. Then the person who wrote puts the next sentance.
93-noo… I am gimanator. Unless it’s specific to your story…
93- Elizabethan? Well, then…
I would still like me to look and act like my normal self, but just don’t make me get killed. That’s all I request.
“Becky!” he bellowed over the roar of the pneumatic engine, the Leyden torch strapped to his head swinging wildly. Abby noticed he had a slight New England accent. “Are you all right?”
“Of course!” Miss Lassen yelled back. “We’ve got the strongbox, haven’t we?”
“Right!” He gestured with one hand, a short chopping motion. A second line unfurled from the gondola above, dropping down next to him. He slung it across the gap. Miss Lassen seized hold of it and began to tie it around the thick, solid handle at one end of the box. She then hiked the end of the strongbox up so that it rested on the sill and proceeded to push it out.
95- that sounds a bit like Writing:Themes with Variations
I’ll be in anyone’s Fanfic.
98 – Oh yeah, I was thinking of that thread too.
Lena could think of nothing to say. Did they think she was the One that would change their luck? Did they realize how ridiculous that was? “Are you sure I’m the right Lena Grady?” she asked timidly.
“We’re not sure of anything,” said KaiYves. “But we think you are.”
Kokonilly looked as though she was about to say something, but Lena couldn’t hear anything except the shrill beeping that suddenly filled the room. One of the MuseBloggers said something impolite – or at least, Lena assumed that it was impolite.
“What’s going on?” yelled Lena, trying to be heard.
“The alarm system!” said TMFA. “We’ve been found out!” He, speller and Gimanator were attempting to block the door, and POSOC was suddenly holding two frightened-looked rats.
KaiYves was yelling, “How do you turn it off?!” And Kokonilly and Beavo had begun to take apart the wall. Lena was utterly bewildered.
95 – Ah. gimanator. I see.
96 – Okay. Can you get seriously injured/crippled, though?
“Forget about turning it off, Kai!” cried Kokonilly. “Give us a hand! You too, Lena!”
Lena ran obediently over to where the three MuseBloggers were pulling at the paneling. “What are you doing?” she asked loudly.
“Just take off the paneling,” said Beavo. Lena tugged experimentally at it, and found that it peeled away easily.
POSOC had stuffed the rats back in his pocket and and was pulling at the wall in another place. “There’s no time!” he called to his friends. “Just forget it!” The alarm continued to blare. Lena thought she would never hear correctly again.
“But disguise!” said speller.
“Just FORGET IT!!!” said Kokonilly. “We’re never coming back here anyway!”
Gimanator leaned more heavily against the door. TMFA and speller took the hint and did the same. “It’s not too long,” he said. “I think I hear ’em!”
Lena gasped, certain they would all perish at the hands of mysterious enemies. But than she gasped for quite another reason. The destruction of the wall had a reason, for now, where they had been taking apart the paneling, Lena saw a large metal door. And then she was being shoved through and the MuseBloggers were right behind her and the heavy door closed and she was in the dark.
Someone muttered something. A flashlight lit up the chamber in which they stood. It belonged to Gimanator, who was standing in front of an electronic control panel. “I can’t remember how to lock it…” he muttered.
“The hologram! Put up the hologram!”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” snapped KaiYves, peering over his shoulder.
“It’s broken,” he said.
“Oh, Kokopelli.” said TMFA. “We’re doomed.”
Kokonilly- You may kill me if you wish, but only if you make it sufficiently dramatic. You may also seriously injure me, but the same applies.
If I’m going to be Elizabethan… Oh goodness. I suppose I couldn’t really have a job, being a girl… So… I’d look pretty much the same.
102 – EEK!!
103 – No, we travel back in time. I should have made that clear. You are an adult. One of us builds a time machine in 2021. *calculates*
13 years from now.
I need descriptions of you people in 13 years!!!
102- Double eek!
Elizabethan, elizabethan… hm. Well, this is my imaginary self, now:
Age: 13
Appearance: 5’4, black hair to waist kept in braid, pale complexion, deep green eyes, loud, likes explosives, wears jeans w/ POTC tshirt.
Powers/strengths: Javelin, pie catapault, good with secret codes.
Likes: Animals, Dior sunglasses.
It would be cool for somebody to do a story where George Lucas goes missing and we all investigate.
107- You should do that.
106 – Thank you!
107 – You tackle that!! Good luck!!!
Maybe when I finnish what I’m working on now…
I had an idea for a slightly different Star Wars mystery while doing track drills. Two of us are visiting Philadelphia to see the Star Wars exhibit when a bad guy steals one of the original probs and leaves clues in Aurebesh that we follow. In the end, we have to fight him with toy lightsabers to save the prop. I’m thinking of having the other person be Kokonilly, as we seem to be the two biggest Star Warriors on MuseBlog.
I’m back!
Metallic needles clicked gently together in a corner of the well furnished room. Suddenly the sound stopped.
“Oh, drat! I’ve messed up this cable entirely!” Cinnamoon muttered. The yarn flew through her fingers, as, once more, she pulled out the last twenty rows. Sitting in an armchair in the middle of the room, Kokonilly sighed, raised her eyebrows, and continued reading her book. Miss Swann rolled her eyes.
“Again?”
“Well, it’s not my fault! I don’t have any patterns!” Miss Swann didn’t argue. They’d had this conversation a thousand times before.
The former musers were sittting in a large room, comfortable, but seemingly useless. Not, that was, that the room had no use – it had several – but that there was no point to it. The uses included keeping seven people prisoner, but with everything they could wish for to keep them happy – except, of course freedom.
Over the course of the past five years, they had tried a myriad of things. Some had given up, resigned themselves to their fate – whatever it was to be – and tried to make it fun. Others tried even after five fruitless years,
At the other end of the room, four people were huddled around a computer, talking quietly. Rosanne, Robert, Rebecca, and Paul. The computers could not access the internet, so it was a mystery to the others what they were doing.
I decided to start writing this fanfic one day. Here’s the first chapter:
The Hare and the Hedgepig
Chapter 1: Beavo
Elizabeth Malone was a sensible girl. It was her first year in high school and she had already proved herself as someone not to be meddled with, both because of the fact that she was the smartest girl in the school and that she had taken karate in elementary school. She was average height and had long, wavy straw-colored hair and piercing blue eyes. She could read a 500-page novel in one day and had even tried to write her own not so successfully. All in all, Elizabeth Malone was a force to be reckoned with.
It was a sunny Thursday as Elizabeth walked out the door headed to school. She was walking down the block wondering about what would happen next in the Jane Austen novel when she ran into a boy who looked to be a few years younger than her. He had crazy-looking hair that was a bit darker than auburn. He had messages scrawled on his hand. Elizabeth tried to read them. One of them seemed to read, “Finish NaNo,†another “Post description,†and a third, perhaps the most mysterious, “Get girl for MH mission and meet up at H&H.†Though Elizabeth was intrigued, she would have walked past him and continued on her way, but the boy then spoke to Elizabeth. “Hello, Elizabeth,†he said.
Though the greeting seemed mundane enough, Elizabeth was a bit puzzled about how the boy knew her name. She assumed he was probably another kid at her school. She timidly responded, “Hi.”
“Come with me,” the boy said. Elizabeth though he was a bit creepy, but could think of nothing else to do, so she followed the boy to the end of the block. The boy then pulled an odd-looking device out of his pocket and pressed a button on the device. Almost instantaneously, a small bus appeared. “How did you do that?” Elizabeth gasped.
“It has something to do with electromagnetic force or something like that. I don’t really understand it myself. Come on in,” replied the boy. Elizabeth stood there for a few seconds. She felt that the best idea was to run for her life and call the police about this boy. But frankly, she was too curious to leave quite yet. She slowly stepped onto the bus.
The bus must have been the strangest bus that Elizabeth had ever seen. It didn’t have any sort of driver’s seat, steering wheel, or acceleration pedal. It did have a dashboard, but it wasn’t like any other dashboard. Instead of the common meters found on a dashboard, this one was covered with buttons. The boy pushed one of the buttons and the bus began to move. The boy acknowledged Elizabeth’s gaping face by saying, “It’s like the gadget. I don’t really understand it.â€
“If you don’t mind,†Elizabeth began, “who are you and where are you taking me?â€
“As for your first question,†the boy responded, “my name is Beavo. As for your second, you’ll see.â€
Elizabeth looked out the windows of the bus. She did not recognize their surroundings at all, which was more than a little disturbing considering that she had lived in the same town for her entire life and knew the area almost perfectly. After very little time had passed, they got off the bus. The area was completely unfamiliar to her. As Beavo beckoned Elizabeth to a relatively small building, Elizabeth said to herself a line from one of her favorite books, “Today must be a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.â€
113- Hmm… sounds like Ms. Frizzle’s bus.
111 – Go Star Wars!!! w00t! Wait, you thought of this while doing track drills?
113 – Can I be in it, please?
115 – You’re in the next chapter, which I’m currently writing
115- Yes, the coach was making us run up and down the stairs.
116 – Thank you!
117 – Okay…
I have yet to start writing. I need profiles of these people in 13 years:
gimanator
¡Ã߀ƒ!
Speller
Alice
Cat’s Meow
Beavo
Kokonilly? Can you have yourself in a fanfic?
Some of my best ideas come while working out.
Um, I guess I’ll start now…
I clipped the lightsaber hilt to my belt before throwing on my denim jacket.
“Are you SURE I can’t wear that fake padawan braid, mom?” I asked one last time, hopefully.
“Positive.”
Sigh.
We caught a taxi to the Franklin Institute and walked up the steps and into the rotunda where the giant statue of Ben Franklin was.
It felt good to be in a place where a scene from National Treasure had been filmed. And even better to be waiting on line for a Star Wars exhibit there.
Go star wars! And Spiderman! And Harry Potter!
121- Say it loud and say it proud!
There were some members of the 501st legion at the exhibit entrance, dressed like Imperial Stormtroopers. The line seemed very long.
“Oh, well, good thing I brought my Muse.” I said, and pulled out the issue I keep in my backpack for just such emergencies. I started reading. I was halfway through the Kokopelli and Company comic when I heard somebody ask
“Can I read that when you’re done?”
I looked up to see a girl with blackish-brown hair wearing a Kokopelli necklace.
“Uh, sure. You read Muse often?”
“Aways. I’m Kokonilly.”
“Kai.”
“Do you know why they’re not letting anybody in yet?”
“I don’t know, but there was a police car outside.”
122 – Good! A bit slow, but I’m sure it will get exciting. Am I dressed as an Imperial Stormtrooper too?
123- Do you want to be?
118 – Stealing from the profile I gave Alice:
I would be a 25-year-old small woman with brown curly hair and glasses. I would probably wear skirts and put at least part of my hair up. I would be beginning a profession as a research chemist, physicist, mathematician (probably logician), or maybe computer scientist.
124- Dressed as an Imperial Stormtrooper, that is.
125 – I thankee.
126 – Um, I would rather be dressed as a Jedi. Or Leia. I don’t want to be a clone!!!
127- Okay.
Kokonilly was wearing a Jedi costume. Like me, she had a toy lightsaber on her belt.
A museum-type lady in a skirt and sweater was talking to one of the members of the 501st, looking worried. A police officer walked out of the exhibit, carrying an armful of paper. One fell out of his hands, but he didn’t notice.
The cop said something to the museum lady. She turned and addressed everyone.
“I regret to inform you that one of the centerpices of this exhibit, the Darth Vader costume used in Return of The Sith, has been stolen.”
128 – The plot turns dark. *dramatic music*
118 – Well, right now I have blond hair about to my shoulders, glasses, braces, and I’m short. (See pictures from the Spokane Kokonvention) My guesses for what I’ll be like in 13 years? Blond hair about to my shoulders, contacts, no braces, and still short. But a little taller.
I’m no help, am I?
“We’re going to close the exhibit off for the rest of today so the CSIs can examine it. In the meanwhile, however, please enjoy The Franklin Institute’s other Most Excelent exhibits.” The lady said
“What a creep! I hope the police find a lot of clues as to who he is so they can lock him up.” I said.
“I think I have a clue right here.” Kokonilly said, holding up a piece of paper
“Huh?”
“This is the one the cop dropped. The writing on it’s in Aurebesh- the in-universe font.” she explained
“I’ve always wanted to learn it, but I’m really bad with languages. Can you read it?” I asked
“If you give me some time. Let’s go to the cafe.”
Whoo, the plot thickens.
We sat down at a table and I tried to look cool and collected. But it’s hard to do that when a major Crime Against Nerdhood has just occured. To distract myself while Kokonilly worked on the message, I picked up a brochure that somebody had left on another table.
“Hmm… the planetarium is closed for repairs… there’s a demonstration on electricity at four…” I thought, simple, trivial thoughts to keep my mind occupied.
“I’ve got it:
A knight but not a Jedi,
A force but not The Force.”
130 –
It helps. A bit. What do you like to wear?
Are you just supposed to wing it on the blog, or write a rough draft?
Well, I’m winging it.
—————————————————————————-
The woman looked behind her uneasily. Was anyone following her? This was supposed to be a gathering of former MuseBloggers only. She checked her pocketwatch with an attachment allowing the MuseBloggers to communicate, distributed after the ending of MuseBlog in 2012. Yup, there was the message. Meet me at the entrance of the Smithsonian at 9:00 PM on Sunday. Kokonilly. She furrowed her brow. Why would Kokonilly want every MuseBlogger here? Why now?
She kept walking. Just three more blocks, she thought.
But she still had that uneasy feeling.
“But what does it MEAN?” I asked
“I don’t know. Does it sound like anything at the museum?”
I looked at the map in the brochure. On the top floor there was the Sports Challenge and…
“That’s it, Kai!” Kokonilly shouted, pointing to something in the plan of the third floor. “Sir Isaac’s Loft! Sir Isaac Newton- he’s a knight, but not a Jedi, and gravity is A force, but not THE Force!”
Alice
Kokonilly
Misswan
TMFA
Giminator
91-Yourself in fifteenish years. Mostly Harmless has been abandoned, forgot about. A few MuseBloggers get together to try and pull it back. Secret hooded peoples are trying to stop Mostly Harmless, and have attempted several assassinations of MuseBloggers, most of them failed.
113-You’re right, I never figure out electronics. I like them the way they are, not meddled with by me.
118-Thirteen years? This’d better be short, my box is gone.
Age: 26, Unnaturally straight darker-than auburn hair, baggy black clothing and dark blue jeans, skateboarding shoes, pale skin, thin build. Dosn’t like to meddle with electronics, but loves them anyway. Sarcastic, cyinical, deep with certain people. Absolutly insane.
That wasn’t to hard.
Excuse all the spelling mistakes, I’m typing at 11:20.
136 – Thank you…
—————————————————————————
She walked for about five minutes, then sat on a park bench in front of the great museum, lost in her thoughts.
“Speller…” someone behind her said eerily, jarring her back to reality. She jumped.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Beavo. Who else?”
“Did you get the message too?”
He rolled his eyes. “Duh,” he said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing in front on the Smithsonian at this ungodly hour with about 10 other former MuseBloggers.”
“Shut up” was all Speller could muster.
She looked around. Beavo was right, there were other people here, milling around and chatting. But where was Kokonilly?
Hm. I was under the impression I just submitted a comment. Why isn’t it showing up?
Ah. Never mind. Sorry for the triple posting. There it is.
May I have some critique, please??
140- It looks cool! Do you like your description in my story?
Yes, KaiYves!
141 – Yes! I love my description! It sounds like me!
My story’s not horrible, is it?
143- It’s not, don’t worry. I like it.
They walked into the exhibit called Sir Isaac’s Loft. There were a lot of activity stations, but what caught the Musers’ eyes was a plastic tube that arched over the main area between two telephone booths. Kokonilly read the display near one booth.
“There’s a ball in the tube. If I hit a button here, it will get sent to the other booth and you can send it back to me.”
“Okay.” I ran to the other booth.
“Get ready, I’m going to-”
“There’s another note in Aurebesh in here! Taped to the wall!”
140-I like it, so it can’t be that bad. My taste in stories are picky, and yours is definatly one I’d want to read.
I should use the word “ungodly” more, I really like it.
This is what I had from my fanfiiction, and I’m planning on continuing it. Raise your hand if you want in it!
Ten young adults crowded into a small deli in downtown Chicago and ordered nine cups of hot chocolate and a Sprite. As soon as the middle aged waitress disappeared behind the counter to place their order, they began to babble excitedly among themselves.
“Do you think he’s gonna go through with it?†asked a young, businesslike woman. She was the only person who was actually sitting at the group’s table; everyone else was standing, kneeling, or a mixture of both using their chairs as support.
“I don’t think so,†said a tallish man. “He wouldn’t. He couldn’t!â€
“Yeah, he would!†Another man, a bit more tanned than the others shook his long black hair indignantly. “He’d do anything to get control of Muse.â€
“That’s what you think,†interjected the shortest of the bunch, a woman who might have been called “Goth†if she hadn’t been in her late twenties.
“That’s what I know,†retorted the long haired man.
“Will you guys quit acting like kids for a second and pay attention to what’s actually happening here? Whether Darxxor and his gang are gonna go through with this plan or not doesn’t matter, we still have to stop him. If he doesn’t try to take over Muse this time, he’ll concoct some other whacky operation and try again.†The woman speaking stood to face her companions.
“Who do you think you are, my mom?â€
“Oxlin is right. We need to focus on Darxxor himself, not his bizarre plans.â€
“Who do you think you are, Beev? Einstein?†Two fingers protruding from the sleeve blacker than it’s owner’s hair pointed toward the man who had just spoke and made a circle in the general direction of his forehead.
“Very funny, FS.†Beavo reached up and smoothed down the explosion of keratin he called hair.
“It’s Frigid Symphony, Kat.â€
A woman laughed and leaned over the table to grasp Frigid Symphony’s hand. Her wavy brown hair cascaded over his arm.
“I don’t care who you are, you’ll always be my Frigedy,†she simpered. A hint of sarcasm broke through her adoring facial expression.
Frigid Symphony caught the hint and shook her hand away. “I am not Frigedy!â€
“Are.â€
“Aren’t.â€
“Are.â€
“Aren’t!â€
“You’re acting like kids again!†warned Oxlin.
“Shut up, Widdershins.â€
“Make me.â€
Across from Oxlin Widdershins a redhead rolled her eyes as she jangled twelve brightly colored wristbands. “Why don’t we leave those four to their bickering and actually do something productive. Personally, I think we should catch up on information we’ve gathered these past twelve years.â€
Taking the woman’s advice and ignoring the bickering four, the six left of the group huddled together on their side of the table.
“So, as I understand it, we’ve all been living in different parts of the world, correct?†started the redhead.
“Yuh huh,†agreed a two while the three nodded.
“Right on, Kiki!†said the last.
“Let’s hear a list of places,†she continued.
“Ontario.â€
“New Delhi.â€
“Wow!”
“Yeah.â€
“Keep going!†instructed Kiki.
“Kansas.â€
“Wyoming.â€
“Washington.â€
“Am NOT!†yelled Symphony, ducking the small vase aimed toward his head. Water and flowers streamed over him, barely missing the doorway. The whole package crash landed on a tiny table near the door, upending a ‘Lazy Susan’ condiment stand.
“Shh!†cautioned a passing waiter, on her way to serve a disappointed couple who no doubt were expecting a romantic evening and ended up in a tiny deli with a whole bunch of seemingly weird people who all had strange names.
“Right here in Chicago,†Kiki finished. “New Delhi, eh?†She indicated the short woman. “Interesting location, Ebeth. What brought you there?â€
“I was bored.â€
“Ah. True Muser, eh?â€
There was an awkward silence (from that side of the table, anyway) where the six were thinking how classic it was of a Muser to move to somewhere in India because he or she was bored.
Breaking the pensive pause, their waitress returned, stepping over shards of glass and a smear of catsup on the carpet. She unloaded the nine mugs of hot chocolate and the Sprite. This silenced the previously squabbling side of the group’s table as eight picked up their cups in unison and proceeded to drain them of their liquid. The ninth raised his plastic bottle.
The tenth, the woman at the end of the table, reached up and twiddled with her medium brown hair. “It’s always to hot. I’m gonna wait first. Beavo!†She opened her eyes wide at what she could see of the auburn haired man – that is, his hair.
“Not these they ain’t.†Sporting a hot chocolate moustache, a face emerged under the un-naturally straighthair. The man clunked his mug down on the table. “They were just right.†He proceeded to tip his chair backwards at a dangerous angle and rested his knees right below his empty mug.
“Are you guys done arguing? Because we’ve been reviewing.†The tallest woman flashed her green eyes.
“Reviewing what?†inquired the woman with wavy brown hair.
“Locations, Shadowkat,†answered the woman.
Frigid Symphony snorted. “The only location a groundhog like you would be underground,†he muttered.
“I heard that. And it’s not funny. Just because I chose the name Groundhog…â€
A tall blond man stood, joining Oxlin, Frigid Symphony, Kiki, and Shadowkat. “And where were you guys?â€
Kiki suppressed a smirk –“Grow much, Canix?†and sat down.
Oxlin was the first to speak. “I live in Amarillo, but I was on, eh, a business trip in, eh, Mexico when I was called here.â€
Beavo spoke next. “New York, New York. Best place in the world.â€
“I beg to differ!†Kiki stood back up.
“Other than Chicago, of course.â€
She sat down again.
“I was hanging around in Jamaica until this meeting was called here, and I was having a good time too,†griped Shadowkat.
“Ooh, Jamaica.â€
Frigid Symphony sneered. “Jamaica? I never really left Sweden and there were so many places I lived that I can’t name them all. A calculator couldn’t name them all.â€
Kiki took charge again. “Okay, great. Now that we’re all settled, I have another question.â€
“So do I!†Alice piped up.
“Me too.â€
“Me three!â€
“Okay!†Kiki grabbed a bottle from the man she had called “Canix.†“We’re gonna use Prarilius’s bottle here. If you have the bottle, you can speak.â€
Instantly, there was a lunge for the bottle, and Kiki pulled it out of reach.
“Me first. Okay, my question is who called this meeting?†She looked to her right to Prarilius Canix, Canix looked to Alice, Alice looked to Ebeth, Ebeth looked to Groundhog, Groundhog looked to Oxlin Widdershins, Widdershins looked to Frigid Symphony, Symphony looked to Shadowkat, Kat looked to Beavo, and Beev looked back to Kiki.
“Nobody?â€
They all shook their heads.
“Let’s get out of here. We could be being watched. If nobody here called this meeting, somebody else did, and I don’t know their intentions. Why don’t we all scooch over to my place.†Kiki stood for the third time and reached in a bright yellow leather purse. “I’m assuming that we all took the bus or a cab?â€
They all nodded.
“Okay, we can take a bus again.â€
Her hand emerged with what looked like a twenty dollar bill. Except for a few small alterations.
First of all, the woman in the picture was easily distinguishable from Andrew Jackson. Second, the small letters under her face confirmed that she was not Andrew Jackson, but Urania. Third, the words “The United States of America†were replaced by “The American Region of Museâ€. And the last of the variations were the two signatures and small type near the bottom. These were not the signatures of a Treasurer of the United States or a Secretary of the Treasurer.
But no occupant of the small deli seemed to notice these differences, and the bill was left under a cocoa mug as the ten bundled up with various scarves against Chicago’s famous wind.
*****
Cinnamoon sighed, and kicked the wall.
“Ow, ow, ow!” She hopped around, clutching her good-until-a-second-ago foot. “Stubbed my toe, stubbed my toe!”
She collapsed into an overstuffed, scarlet armchair. Massaging her big toe, she went over the facts in her head.
1) Somebody had broken into her house while she was asleep.
2) They had left her wallet containing fifty dollars, box of jewelry containing priceless items that she never wore, and her silk kimono alone, although all were in plain sight.
3) She had been awoken when the theif tipped over a family photo hidden in a closet, which had smashed.
4) The closet the theif had attempted to break into contained her complete collection of Muse.
5) She had chased the theif, and he (or she, for all she knew) had dissapeared seemingly into the east wall of her kitchen.
6) She, or any other object she had tried, could not dissapear through the wall as the theif had done.
With these facts, she considered how far she had gotten. Which, of course, was nowhere. In desperation, she had kicked the wall, only to displace her APC, or all purpose cleaner. She considered her luck that it wasn’t broken, it had cost her a pretty penny.
I had a bit more, but it’s lost in the vaults of Muse Fanfiction threads…
147 – Wasn’t there something about two people playing a game of Mostly Harmless, and a copper Pie?
Ah, found it: (you can give me the reward later)
• Cinnamoon suddenly jumped out of the blue armchair. She hadn’t really looked around the place where the theif dissapeared, maybe he left something behind.
She raced to the kitchen. Immidiatly, she slipped on a copper pot and went sliding into the new APC.
“Foohey.â€
But as she picked herself off of the shiny black cube, a glint caught her eye.
“What’s this?â€
She slid her fingers under the APC’s stand, and moved them around a bit.
“Aha!†She exclamed, closed her fingers, and withdrew them.
A shiny silver keychain with a small pie on the end was clasped in her fingers. And she had definatly never bought this. It must have been from the theif. Wrapping it in her scarf, she pranced out of the kitchen and up the padded stairs to investigate the small object.
*****
Plink!
“Damn.â€
Pentitonik reached into her glass of water and pulled out a shiny, silver keychain with a pie at the end. “I’m always dropping this,†she explained to the hooded man sitting in front of her. “Shall we resume the game?â€
“Naw, I think I’ve had enough,†he said and stood up. “See you.â€
“Bye!†Penty waved at the stranger she had just played a wonderful game of Mostly Harmless with. He dropped his half-dollar size copper Pie into a slot near the door of Dunkin’ Donuts, grabbed the newly materialized Personal Ground Transportation Scooter (more commenly known as PGTS), and speeded away.
She cleared off the board and dumped the contents into the cardboard box it had come in. She then placed her keychain ring with the pie chain in her purse. And following the same routine as her shady game companion, she scootered to her apartment.
145 – Thank you.
146 – I vaguely remember reading something like that before…
—————————————————————————-
Kokonilly was sprinting to the Smithsonian. She had forgotten the plans at her apartment.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly. “I forgot the plans.”
Only one person had heard her soft voice. A blond woman who looked vaguely familiar. “Oh, hi, Kokonilly.” Then Kokonilly’s words sank in. ” What plans?”
“I’ll explain later” was the disappointing response.
“ATTENTION EVERYONE,” Kokonilly said, standing on a park bench. Nobody heard her. “ATTENTION!” Curse my soft voice, she thought. “ATTENTION!!!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Now people were looking. “You may be wondering why you’re here –”
“MAY be wondering? Kokonilly, you brought us here with no explanation, expecting everybody to come,” a woman wearing Dior sunglasses said angrily.
“Misswann,” Kokonilly sighed. “Let me explain.”
“As you know, we have all gone our separate ways, but we never forgot MuseBlog, and never stopped wondering why it ended.
“I think I can change that.”
“I’m listening,” said Beavo sarcastically.
Glaring at Beavo, Kokonilly continued. “I have built a…”
“Cotton candy maker!”
“Telephone!”
“Robotic hot-pink bunny!”
“SHUT UP!!!!” screamed Kokonilly, her temper rising. “It’s a time machine, you idiots!”
146- *Raises hand*
We sat down on the floor under a display of the strangely beautiful paterns made by particles in accelerators. I looked at them as Kokonilly worked on the clue.
“Blood moving in
And blood moving out
No matter the speed
The beat goes on” She read “It sounds like it’s refering to the heart. Is there an exhibit on human biology?”
“Yeah, on the first floor.”
These are great. *considers starting one when Frenzy is over*
Ooh! And I will be in anyone’s who needs. My profile is on the screnzy and Muser profile threads but I can paste it again.
I think I’ll scrap the AH fanfic. It just wasn’t working for me.
Maybe I’ll write a sequel to Muse Schism.
151 – Thanks, but I would like if, for the sake of convenience, you put one here.
153-Okay dokay!!!
Hypatia
Short brown hair and brown eyes. Medium to tall height.
Interests: Modern dance, piano, ancient history/philosophy, writing, reading, theatre, Weimar Republic Cabaret
Eccentricites: Never says “Oh My God or OMG†Uses “Oh my genetically modified organism†instead! Replies in rhyme when people offend her (or tries to, I have to say most of them are pretty lame), loves to sing cabaret songs in her friend’s ears despite the fact that all of them (and her chorus teacher) have told her that she “has trouble picking up tunesâ€, headbuts people frequently
Personality: Excessively hyper, pretty short attention span, liable to crack up in the middle of a serious discussion
Thanks, Hypatia!
—————————————————————————
Everyone was silent. “Wow,” someone whispered. “I’ve never heard Kokonilly explode before.”
“Well, now you have,” Kokonilly said grumpily. “Now, as I was saying, I think I know why MuseBlog ended.”
“Well then, WHY? Come on, we’ve been discussing it for a full two minutes! Oh my genetically modified organism!” said a tall woman who evidently couldn’t sit still.
“Well, Hypatia or whatever your name is –”
” — Mousy-Haired Scholar, FYI –”
“ANYWAY, I know why – and I will tell you as soon as you all be quiet,” said Kokonilly, giving the evil eye to Mousy-Haired Scholar.
“I did some research and discovered that there was an evil Muse who wanted to be a real one SO BADLY – like Princess in the PowerPuff Girls, if you excuse the simile. They started plotting in the Elizabethan times, and finally executed it in 2012.”
“When MuseBlog was closed,” Speller whispered.
“Yes. And I built the time machine so that we could travel back in time and DEFEAT THE EVIL MUSE!” Kokonilly finished, grinning, much to the alarm of an innocent squirrel.
146 – *raises hand*
I sound hilarious.
155-Yay! Huzzah! Thanks awfully for putting me in. I love your fanfic, by the way.
The Giant Heart is one of the Franklin Institute’s most famous exhibits. It’s really big, so that people can climb inside. And around it is the whole exhibt about health and hearts.
“This whole room’s about hearts! How do we know where to start looking for the clue?” Kokonilly asked
“We should split up. You can check out the Giant Heart and I’ll check out the heart rate section.” I said.
“‘Kay.”
I walked over to the heart rate display. There were two booths. You would go into one and put on headphones. One booth would instuct you how to meditate and you could see your heart rate go down. The other would play scary sounds to get your heart rate to rise.
I think i like my attitude
157 – Thank you.
159 – Yes, I enjoy that too.
—————————————————————————
“Wow,” Beavo said, rubbing his hands together and preparing to laugh maniacally. “I like that idea!”
“Hold on,” said Misswann. “You don’t have anything with you except some blue paper.”
Kokonilly shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, you see, it actually hasn’t been built yet, so…”
“You want us to build it. How typical,” Misswann said.
Kokonilly frowned. This wasn’t exactly going to plan. “No, I’ve instructed some HPBs to build it for us. It should be done by –”
“HPBs???” Everyone started talking at once.
“QUIET! Yes, HPBs, but nice ones. They work quickly.” Kokonilly reddened.
“Oh, sure they do. Remember a Narrow Escape? BunnyBlog?” Beavo said.
Continuing…
—————————————————————————-
“Well, yes,” Kokonilly blushed. “But these ones are loyal to Muse. They are good. You don’t trust them, you don’t trust me.”
It was quiet. Then, Beavo grumbled “Fine. But if they eat anyone’s hat, they die.”
Misswann hesitated. “…Are you sure of their trustworthiness?”
“Positive.”
She sighed. “Count me in.”
“Me too,” said Cat’s Meow.
“Fine,” said Speller.
“Anyone else?” said Kokonilly.
((Last chance for profiles!))
Kokonilly, where am I? I know I applied…
*decides to add to profile*
Sports: running, soccer
Twitches: snapping by pushing my right-hand fingers together with my left-hand, twiddling with zippers, digging my fingernails into my palm, opening and shutting hardcover books, squeezing lips together in order to make the blood drain out of them, and singing, “Along with the red queen and Alice and I” from Alice Through the Looking Glass.
I am very intrigued by the fanfics. Very! *does impatient cricket* I cannot wait to find out what happens.
When Screnzy ends, I think I am going to start one where Mostly Harmless gets bought by a company and they make it Mostly Harmless (TM) and its a dystopia. THe Muses have gone into hiding to escape the repressive world, and also because they are considered political enemies and in danger of being deported. Only the Musebloggers (GAPA’s included, of course) and Larry Gonick (he would) know where they are. They launch an underground rebellion to fix Mostly Harmless (TM) and return it to the original Utopian scheme. See, it first deviated in 2020 when hopes where high. A company offered to endorse Mostly Harmless on the condition that TM was added to the end of the name. The Muses and MBers were firmly against it but the company was sly and subtle and they managed to get hold of it. Even, with the regime of the company Mostly Harmless functioned well. However, gradually the company muses (Kokpelli TM, Pwt Tm…) became corrupt and Mostly Harmless became a dystopia. The Muses went into hiding to plot the TM Muses overthrow and the institution of the real Mostly Harmless and then, well, I will just have to wait and see.
By the way, all of My TM’s are meant to be superscripts which I don’t know how to do. Anyway, I may be asking for applications later, but right now I shoud be doing my ENglish HW. I am so not skipping off to read other threads right now. No way. How could you doubt me?
162 – Ah yes. I’m getting to you soon…
“WAIT!” somebody said. Everybody turned — except one person.
“That sounds like Alice,” Beavo muttered.
And so it was. Setting down her books, she promptly had a rapid discussion in lowered voices with Kokonilly. Kokonilly then said, “She’s coming.”
“I think we should, before we go, tell about what we’ve been doing for the last nine or so years,” Speller mumbled.
“Good idea, Speller!” said Kokonilly, relieved nobody was yelling at her anymore. “I’ve been abroad, writing, reading, and I landed an excellent job at — ”
“Wait a minute.” Misswann frowned. “You’ve discovered the plot AND developed a time machine while doing all this?!?!?!”
“Well, you see, I quit videogaming temporarily to do that. Anyway, I landed an excellent job at the Burnam Institute in San Diego ((that’s a real place)) as a chemist!”
“Snaps for Kokonilly,” Hypatia mumbled. Beavo snickered.
“Well then, what about you Beavo? What have you been doing?” Kokonilly defended.
He stood up, and with a big harrumph began to speak. “I have also invented something. A Portal… thingy. It transports you wherever you want to go!”
“Well, now we have a time machine and a space machine, let’s go!” Hypatia said, thinking maybe she shouldn’t have had that last piece of chocolate.
“Well, not yet,” Kokonilly said with an evil glint in her eye. “We still have one last thing.”
“WHAT??? Oh my genetically modified organism!” Hypatia groaned.
“Well, we have to wait a year and a day so that the curse on it wears off,” Misswann said sarcastically.
“No. We have to pack!” said Kokonilly, with a not-so-evil glint in her eye. “Race you to the apartment building! And meet me here in a week at noon. Bring your suitcases.”
A WEEK LATER
Alice sprinted down the block dragging her suitcase and checked her watch.
12:15 PMit said. “Blast! I’m late.”Panting, she staggered over to the Smithsonian and collapsed on a park bench. Five minutes later, when Beavo arrived with an “I just woke up, don’t talk to me”, she realized her watch was twenty minutes ahead. “Drat.”
The rest of the MuseBloggers started arriving. Misswann came with Hypatia, and Kokonilly crashed into a tree on her bike with her pet tenrec. “Crap!” came faintly from 20 feet away.
Bruised and battered, Kokonilly gently stood up, shooing away the dogs and cats swarming her in between sneezes.
“Hi – achoo – people,” she said, congested. “Are we – achoo – ready?”
“Yes” came the chorus of voices.
While there’s ultra-fast moderation, I might as well write more.
————————————————————————–
“Well, fine then,” mumbled Kokonilly. “Anyone got a tissue? Or some allergy medicine?”
“Here,” said Speller, handing her some.
“Let’s go to the time machine! Take your stuff!”
–LATER–
“This is it?” grumbled Misswann. “An old DeLorean?”
“Yes, I saw Back to the Future and I realized that, with a few tweaks, it would work!”
“Where’s the plutonium?” asked Misswann skeptically.
“That was one of the changes. It runs on pies now.”
“Fine,” Misswann grumbled, climbing in with her bulky duffel bag.
After everyone had gotten in, Kokonilly reminded them to fasten their seatbelts and make sure they had all of their stuff, while squishing all of her belongings into a technologically advanced purse.
“All right, let’s go the the Elizabethan era!”
Please, I would really appreciate it if I had some constructive criticism!
167- Paraphrasing something said on another forum
“Why the Elizabethian Age?”
“Because Elizabethians are cool!”
More of the Darth Vader Mystery:
I entered the meditation booth and listened to the voice inside the headphones. Just as the voice instructed, I took slow, deep breaths. At the end of two minutes, my heart rate had visibly decreased.
Just as I left the booth, I nearly collided with Kokonilly.
“Another one! Inside the right atrium!”
169 – They are!
—————————————————————————–
“Wait, don’t we have to change?” Cat’s Meow asked.
“The time machine does that for you.”
“Neat!”
“Yeah… well, everyone touch up on Ye Elizabethan Speake!”
The small room was suddenly filled with “thou” and “thee” and “ye”s. Kokonilly’s heart rate increased. They were finally doing it!
170- Hi, Kokonilly!
Have I died yet? Or am I even in your story?
No, IBCF, but I could add you… I need you in 13 years! Quick, before the story progresses too far!!
Beavo…? You there?
Kokonilly read the mesage on a bench in the hallway.
“Look, up in the sky!
It’s a bird!
It’s a plane!”
“Well, there’s nothing about Superman at this museum, but there is an exhibit called the Franklin Air Show.” I said, but Kokonilly was already running down the hallway.
“Hang on, I didn’t even say where it was!” I called after her.
Wow, I was odd there.
————————————————————————–
Kokonilly typed in the date three days before the evil Muse hatched his plan.
July 3, 1602the screen said. “Commencing time-travel,” the computer said in a computer-generated female voice.“WE’RE ON OUR WAY!!!” yelled Beavo.
“Hold on,” came a voice from the back.
((I think that voice is whoever submits their profile next!!!))
Gosh, I love reading these!
Okay, I need ONE MORE PROFILE to be the voice! First come, first serve!
Oh, and if you apply, please put your profile here too. For the sake of convenience.
I hurried after Kokonilly, through the exhibit on electricity, and past some structural models of bridges. The first thing in the Franklin Air Show hall that caught our eye was a set of air cannons near a wall covered in what looked like humungous sequins.
I hit one, and disturbed the pattern of sequins.
“Cool!”
178 – Since both of the fanfics that I was in appear to be dead, I’ll be in yours.
Profile: Red hair with a wide purple streak and a thin green one. Pretty tall: 5’6″. Wears things that are vaguely reminiscent of the 1960’s, hobbits, or both. Interests: The arts, cooking, computers. Personality: Usually pretty diplomatic and kind, etc. However, if she gets angry, she gets ANGRY, and will probably end up throwing something across the room. Likes helping others, which can annoy the intended recipients of her help, as they sometimes think that she’s just trying to show off her intelligence. She has a rather bigger collection of random facts than the average Muser, and therefore knows at least one thing about nearly everything. That’s not to say that the one thing is of any use to anyone, but still. She also free associates a lot. She has ADD and takes meds for it. If she’s off meds, then she becomes slightly jumpy and her attention span will either be about five seconds long or she’ll hyperfocus on something. Her short term memory also suffers.
Hope this is ok.
Eek.
I lost track. Sorry.
148-Ah, thank you.
More peeps:
Kai, Kokonilly,
165-I invented something!? It probably dosn’t work.
Groundhog, I’m here, although I wasn’t. I stillh ave to think up a plot before I write something and regret it later.
Aha. Hehe. I really shouldn’t be pushing anyone to write more, considering that my own fanfic (for a HP site) has been on hold for the past year or so.
Thank you, Groundhog. *has writer’s block* *thinks*
Aha!
————————————————————————–
“YOU FORGOT ME!!!!” a lady with a tie-dye shirt and a dark green cloak. “WAIT UP!!!!!!!!!”
“You didn’t go to the first meeting,” sighed Kokonilly. “How were we supposed to know you were coming?”
———————————————————————–
Time to go! Toodles!
Near the air cannons, there was a chamber where you could test how areodynamic certain shapes were. The classic flying wing design still reigned supreme.
At the end of the gallery, I heard a little kid shout
“What’s this note doing on the controls? It’s written in funny symbols!”
At that, we both ran over to a simulator where you could “fly” models of the Wright Brothers’ kites. They had used kites to find out what worked, so they could adapt that knowledge to their airplanes.
“Can I have that paper?” I asked.
What exactly is my clanky duffel bag filled with?
186 –
You’ll see. *cough*actuallyidon’tknowyet*cough*
Howabout cosmetics disguised as HPBs disguised as BOMBS? :devil:
188 – Do you mean : twisted
Well, on teh cosmetics idea, I am hatching a plan. Not involving cosmetics…
189 – Darn it. I meant : twisted : ?
—————————————————————————–
“Well, duh! You should have known I was coming. I sent correspondence.”
Just then, a mouse skittered across the floor, stopped, handed a piece of paper to Kokonilly, and slid away.
“You mean this?” asked Kokonilly, unfolding the paper. “It arrived a full two and a half minutes after you.”
“Two minutes, thirty-one seconds, and sixty nanoseconds, to be precise,” said Beavo.
“Shut up, Beavo,” hissed Speller.
“Yes, that was my ‘correspondence’,” sighed Groundhog, picking up and petting the mouse. Suddenly dropping it onto Cat’s Meow’s lap, she asked, “So what is this dinky old car for anyway?” She peered in.
“It’s not a dinky old car,” said Kokonilly, offended. “It’s my time machine.”
“Your what?”
“You can have it-”
“Thanks!”
“-for five bucks, lady.”
“Phobos.” I muttered, and shelled it out.
The kid gave me the paper, and I gave it to Kokonilly to decode. She pored over it, leaving me in five minutes of great suspense…
“When it comes to being there, this is the max
It’s easy to fall for this experience.”
“Her time machine,” said Alice. “Her invention.”
“Okay then…” said Groundhog. She dragged her suitcase into the car. Cat’s Meow eyed it warily. It looked like it was about to rip at the seams.
“Are you sure that’s enough stuff?” said Misswann sardonically.
“Yes, positive. I brought all of the dictionaries, thesaurus, currency, atlases, and Muse issues I could get ahold of. And I also –”
“Well, we had better get going,” interrupted Kokonilly. “We shan’t waste any time!” Strapping herself in, she told the others to do the same.
“Who says shan’t anymore?” asked Misswann. “I mean really, come on!”
Glaring at Misswann, Kokonilly boosted the throttle. “5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”
KA-BOOOOM!!!!
Looking outside the window, Kokonilly saw some people shaking their heads, muttering “I swear, there was just a car there!”
Stifling a laugh, Kokonilly felt her clothes change and realized her modest jeans and t-shirt were becoming a dress. She said “Wow” and realized she was developing a British Elizabethan accent. “Maybe I should have told them that” she muttered.
“Told us what?” asked Alice, worried.
Wow, I can write, I guess! Any criticism? Is nobody reading this? Or is everybody lurking?
Anyway, I still would like some criticism!
194- I’m lurking. Thinking about my fanfic. Thinking about getting up and going outside where the sun is shining.
I like your story. A lot.
195 – Thank you. Do you like how you’re acting right now? (Don’t worry, you’ll be more talkative later.)
196- Yup.
Well, readers, sorry, but I think I have written quite enough today. More shall be added tomorrow.
Simultaniously, Kokonilly and I shouted
“The IMAX theater!”
“Ha! Jinxed!” We then shouted
“Seriously, though, IMAX rocks.” I said.
“Um, nothing,” stuttered Kokonilly.
But the accent in her voice was unmistakable. Alice frowned, but said nothing. Meanwhile, Beavo was reciting the Constitution, but with his accent getting thicker and thicker, Misswann started giggling uncontrollably, pointing at Beavo and rolling around on the floor.
“Er, Kokonilly, what happened to our voices and our CLOTHING???” asked Speller.
“It’s just a little something the time machine does automatically. Stop whinging,” said Kokonilly, turning red.
Meanwhile, several Musers had completely cracked up upon hearing Beavo, leaving him to ponder why the Constitution was so funny.
Kokonilly, you’ve got me PERFECTLY. I love it!
We hurried towards the IMAX theater, near the lobby. There were posters saying that the film “Roving Mars” was playing at 12, 3 and 5 o’clock. Taped to the door was yet another Aurebesh note.
A guard aproached us as Kokonilly was decoding it.
“The show doesn’t start for another hour. Why are you kids standing outside the door?” He asked me
“Just, um… looking at the poster. Gosh, I love IMAX movies.” I improvised
“Yeah, they are pretty great. Carry on.” The guard said, and walked away.
“Phew.”
“I think I’ve got it figured out:
‘You’re on the right track,
But you’ll need more than brains to win the day
The fate of Vader will be decided
Behind the mural and under the stars.’ What does he mean by under the stars? It’s not even noon yet!”
201 – Thanks!
————————————————————————
“What time is it?” asked Alice randomly.
“I haven’t the faintest idea, maybe the year 1952 by now” winked Kokonilly.
202- Planetarium?
“Thanks, that helps” muttered Alice, adjusting her watch.
“WHAT is so funny about the Constitution???” asked Beavo, his temper rising. “It’s rather serious!”
“Your-your-your VOICE!!!!!” screamed Misswann.
Meanwhile, Groundhog was attempting to help Hypatia with her code-breaking, as Hypatia was now a cryptologist at the NSA ((yes, I’ve read Digital Fortress)). “No, no no. You see this pattern here? It coincides with here –”
“Well then if you know it so well, do it yourself” bristled Hypatia sharply, leaving Groundhog dismayed.
200-Urgh. I do that a lot. I told someone not to tase me today and everybody was laughing their heads off and I was like ? and they got even more hysterical and tipped over a stool and I screamed all funny and– I’ll shut up now. In short, I ♥ your story.
There are three subplots here. Sorry.
————————————————————————–
Joining the others and abandoning the controls (after setting it to autopilot of course), Kokonilly suddenly stopped and asked the group, “Did anyone remember to bring food?”
“Um…”
————————————————————————–
Now there is one. Happy?
204-Yes, but Free Period ended before I could finish typing out the conversation.
“Well, there’s a planetarium downstairs that has a mural showing the history of astronomy painted on the outside. But the brochures say it’s closed-.” I started
“-Which means nobody would look for the Vader suit in there!” Kokonilly interjected
If a scout could have seen the speed at which we hurried down the stairs and to the hallway near the planetarium, both of us would have been drafted for the Olympic team and shipped to Bejing on the spot.
Kokonilly and I approached the door to the planetarium carefully, as if every step might be booby-trapped.
“For Star Wars.” She said, grabbing one of the handles
“For Star Wars.” I agreed, grabbing the other. We pulled them open at the same time, and stepped inside.
The room was (predictably) dark, although the “dome” was glowing faintly red.
In the center of the room, we both caught sight of a hooded figure.
“So, you Padawans figured out the riddles. This battle cannot be decided by our knowledge of the museum, but by our skills with a lightsaber.” a raspy voice said…
“Food?” asked Hypatia sheepishly. “Were we supposed to bring that? Can’t we just eat Elizabethan food?”
“ELIZABETHAN FOOD?” screamed Misswann. “THEY THOUGHT TOMATOES WERE POISONOUS BACK THEN!!!! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!!!” She started hyperventilating and looked about to swoon.
Cat’s Meow rolled her eyes. “Relax, people. I brought all the food I could carry. Weren’t you wondering WHY I had a big bag and a smaller bag? I pack very conservatively.”
“Well…?”
“DUH! The bigger bag is food.” She rolled her eyes. “You have NO foresight with these kind of things!”
A murmur rose up from the other Musers. “Yeah, we sort of don’t have any,” admitted Kokonilly.
210-I love it. Becuase “where is the food?” actually always is my first reaction. *confesses to glutony* *feels vaguely guilty* Its quite hilarious.
Can anyone arch their eyebrow? I need someone in my story who can arch their eyebrow.
Can anyone arch one eyebrow? Lurkers? My cast? Pwease?
212-I can.
213- *tries very hard to arch eyebrow* I can almost do it. By the time you’ve built a time machine and contacted us all, I think I’ll have mastered the art. Unless you’ve already built it? In that case I’d better practice.
215 – Naah, that’ll do.
——————————————————————————
Alice arched her eyebrow. “I thought you couldn’t survive without chewy granola bars, Kokonilly. Don’t tell me you didn’t bring any?”
“I did. I brought a hundred –”
“What!”
” — but I can eat about five an hour. I can share, though,” she added hastily, seeing the look on Alice’s face.
“Fine, then” sighed Alice.
“Oh, thank goodness we have food,” said Misswann, ending with something that sounded like “stupid poisonous tomatoes”
213-I can. I love arching my eyebrows in that why-are-you-talking-to-me face. I can’t raise the left one though, just both or the right.
I just transferred my fanfiction to a Word document, and if you format it so that it’s actually READABLE at 100% view, it’s 5 pages long!!! And they haven’t even gotten to the 1880s yet!!!
216- Do You mind if I add something?
~~~~
An old hermit, peaked out from behiend a tree.
“So, they’ve finally found were I went after the blog went down. Sure, there fifty years late! but I’ll forgive them, If they take me home.”
~~~
That’s Me, By the way.
220 – Sorry. Maybe I can add you in the Elizabethan times. I’ll say you got trapped in a black hole or something. Sorry, but you’ll have to wait until later. Adding that would mess up post 217.
The hooded figure activated a red Force Action lightsaber. The light filled the room.
“If you win this duel, the Vader armor is yours to keep… and if you loose… you don’t want to know. Heh, heh.”
Um, Kokonilly, what color toy lightsaber do you want to have?
222 – Green, if I may.
ARGH! Writer’s block. Must think…
I am going to start mine and write infrequently.
Feather could not help but feel that there was something indefinably wrong with the oily-voiced stranger in the black bowler hat.
Sorry about the double post. I just got an idea.
He had come to them that morning in a sleek black car. He had bid them “good day” in a sleek voice. He had exhibited a sleek waistcoast and tousled his sleek hair. And Feather did not like it. No one could call him the smartest being ever to set foot on this our Earth, but one had to concede that Feather’s ideas about people were more often than not, correct. So Feather, and the other Muses when he communicated his premonition to them through Intelligent Air, were very wary of their sleek and oily guest, beyond their fear that he might stain the furniture.
*even beyond, I meant
Oh gosh, I just triple posted. *feels guilty*
“Well, then,” said Hypatia cheerfully, “What year is it yet?”
“1912” replied Kokonilly.
Hypatia’s face fell. “How long will it take to get back to the 1600s?”
“Maybe 90 more minutes.”
Hypatia sighed. “Drink some chamomile tea,” Alice offered. “It calms you down.”
“Eww! That gross stuff? Don’t drink it, Hypatia!” Cat’s Meow shrieked. “Here’s some chocolate.”
“Are you sure that’s a good–” Alice started.
“Ooh, chocolate!” Hypatia squealed, accepting a bar. Taking a bite, her eyelids started getting droopy, and within a minute she was out cold.
“It had a sedative” Cat’s Meow explained.
“Good idea, Cat’s Meow!” said Beavo. “Where should we move her?”
“I’ll help” said Kokonilly, pressing a green button, which made the car a lot bigger and more spacious. It also made it visible only to MuseBloggers, but the others didn’t know that yet.
“Wow!’ exclaimed Speller. “I’m impressed! You designed all this?”
“Yup!”
“How long are we going to be away?” broke in Misswann.
I’m thinking of writing a sequel to my previous fan-fiction. It will take place in 2025, twelve years after the re-union of Muse, and will involve mostly fictional characters, although some of the previous main characters will make cameo appearances as the new Administrators, teachers at Muse Academy, and/or the parents of the MCs. My own son*, Sebastian D********, might be one of the major characters, though not the protagonist.
Anyhow. Any plot ideas?
*Fictional.**
**So far.
2035, actually. Typo, not bad math skills.
I wonder if my previous comment went through. I hope so.
I think I’ll have a few colonies on the Moon.
The morning that their unwelcome visitor came among them, it was raining. Usually, Feather liked the rain. It took better care of his plants than even he, with his little watering cans and spades, ever could, softly carressing the soil and inveigling troublesome plants into growing. But today, its incessant pounding only further confused his already muddled thoughts. Oily coat and Urania were talking about something far beyond the scope of his understanding. Occasionally, he would begin to grasp at it, only to find himself put off by the rythmical pounding outside his window. Soon, his mind wandered.Geraniums…delphiniums…wisteria…carrots…cauliflower. They ran through his mind with steadily increasing rapidity and oily coat and Urania continued to talk.
“You can’t be serious? It’s a very strange and a little overly impudent of a proposition for my tastes.†He heard Urania say. Aeoui was making frantic gesticulations, which Craww had altogether given up trying to translate. Chad made a noncommital grunt.
Is there anyone who’d be willing to be in my fanfic? It would be great if you could repost your profiles if you are. Thanks a lot!
I’ll review my characters. There’s Alice, Beavo, Kiki, Traggle, TMFA, Widdershins, TNO, Cinnamoon and Purplefinch.
I think I’ll make Widdershins, Alice and Purplefinch Administrators, as well as two other people who weren’t MBers. Kiki and TMFA will teach at Muse Academy- Kiki as Spector head of house, TMFA as Lasley head. TNO and Traggle will also teach there. Cinnamoon will work for DODECAHEDRON, the new Muse intelligence agency. And I think I’ll make Beavo a famous author, and possibly the parent of one of the main characters.
233, 234 – Can I be in it, please?
Age: 11
, t-shirt (in the summer) with no words, knit hat… either Crocs or lime green tennis shoes. Also owns Kokopelli necklace purchased at the Hoover Dam, to be worn at will.
Hair color: blackish-brown
Eye color: brown
Personality: a bit arrogant at times, shy to strangers, outgoing to friends, HUGE procrastinator, intelligent, can be annoying if I feel like it
Gender (maybe that should have been first): female
Most Likely To Be Seen Wearing: jeans, long-sleeved shirt (at this time of year) that has been purchased from Children’s Place
I have brown elliptical glasses, too big for my face, and lime green braces.
I’m also allergic to mosquito bites, two types of dust mites, cat dander, dog dander, ragweed, pollen, the seasons spring and fall, and… well… you get my point. No food allergies, though, but a possible allergy to alcohol. (My mom’s allergic to it, and I got all of her allergies 10x worse. You never know.)
———————————————————————–
“Well, I’m not quite sure, Misswann,” Kokonilly said after an awkward silence. “Maybe a week, maybe a month. Why?”
“I have a pet at home, that’s why!” yelled Misswann.
“Why didn’t you bring it?”
“ARE YOU CRAZY???”
“I brought Caligula.”
“Your tenrec? How did it get to be called Caligula?”
“Rec sounds like rex. Tyrannosaurus rex. Caligula was a tyrant. And a leader. Plus, he has an AWESOME name. I also like Roman history.”
There was a pause as every Muser in there thought how Muser-like it was to have a pet named Caligula. And to have a reasonable explanation for it.
235- If you don’t mind being 38 years old, I’ll give you a cameo as a MA teacher.
There are currently two full Muse Academies and one under construction.
Muse Academy North is located on a rocky island off the coast of Iceland. Its resident Muses are Crraw, Aeiou and Bo.
Muse Academy South is located on North Cape, New Zealand. Its resident Muses are Mimi, Feather and Kokopelli.
Muse Academy Lunar is located in the Moon colony. It is currently a small organization which teaches the children of the 200 or so settlers in a few spare rooms, but there are plans to make it the most spectacular yet. Resident muses are Chad, Urania and Pwt.
Ohhh- I’ve thought of a plot. *chuckles wickedly*
Okay. Main characters are Karen (Beavo’s daughter), Sebastian (my son), and Felicia (Cat’s Meow’s daughter). All three are in their sophomore year at Muse Academy North.
236 – 38?!?!?!?!?! Let’s see… 27+11=38… Ah. You are mathematically correct. Yes, I’m fine with that.
Karen’s in Coontz, Felicia’s in Lasley, and Sebastian’s in Spector.
Unfortunately, I’m not sure where to start or how to get the characters involved in the plot.
Ah. Now I’ve got it. I’ll switch Kokopelli to MA North, and replace him with Bo at MA South. That fixes everything.
Now where to start?
I’ve got it. Might write more tonight, and will probably write more tomorrow. Bye.
240 – Who are their parents? As in, whom did Beavo, you, and Cat’s Meow marry?
—————————————————————————–
The pause was interrupted with a sharp beep. Kokonilly rushed over to the controls. “That’s not supposed to happen.”
“Uh, oh… WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” yelled Misswann.
“Give her chocolate” muttered Alice to Cat’s Meow. Obligingly, Cat’s Meow broke off a piece of chocolate and gave it to Misswann. Like Hypatia, she was soon out cold. Beavo moved her to the bunks.
—————————————————————————
Sorry, Misswann and Hypatia, I had to. I couldn’t keep track of all of my characters. Speller was starting to be left out.
Yay for Muse Academy Lunar!
I pulled my lightsaber off my belt and activated it. Kokonilly did the same. Purple and green light lit our faces.
The figure with the red saber charged us. He made fast slices, so fast we could barely block them.
Kokonilly did a 360 Shun turn to build speed, and aimed for the theif’s back. At the last second, he turned and blocked.
“How the heck is he this good?” she shouted
“Practice. Years of practice.” the theif said, striking at my legs.
I did a Sai jump and avoided his blade.
i too pulled out my lightsaber, it blazed with blue-silver light,parry 8, parry 4, riposte, coupe’e, parry 7, block, circle 4, slash, lunge, coupe’e….the thief is extremely fast, and even a fencer can’t find an opening.
243- Lightsaber combat uses special terms created to sound like an in-universe language rather than fencing terms.
http: //starwars.wikia. com/ wiki/ Lightsaber_combat
241- I married a Taiwanese computer programmer I met a few years after the Schism while I was working for Urania. I don’t know about Beavo and CM.
Now, who should I make the main character? Sebastian, Felicia or Karen?
I think I’ll write mostly from Sebastian’s perspective, with Karen and Felicia both being main characters.
The day was unusually cold, even for Muse Academy North, and some of its chill even managed to sneak into the locker room, with the heaters going full blast. Sebastian shivered, glad of his insulated pie-suit. He slipped down the transparent face-mask, twisted the clasps to lock it in place, and tightened various straps.
It was too frigid to practice on the field, so the class trooped into the big gymnasium, looking like an alien special forces unit in their tight, waterproof black suits and their orange-tinted face-masks. The PE teacher was altready waiting for them, similarly dressed, behind a table full of practice pies, little more than shells full of shaving cream. Each student seized two.
Sebastian evaluated the field of play. There were several obstacles scattered around the gym- a climbing frame, a pool, several freestanding walls. He then checked his suit. There were no leaks through which shaving cream could seep, and the face-mask was secure.
“Get in position!” the teacher bellowed. “Three…two…one…Every being for enself!”
Sebastian did a quick 360 spin. A pair of classmates were creeping up on him. He drove a pie each into their faces. The masks, sensing surface pressure, polarized and turned opaque. They would remain so for 90 seconds. As they groped around, Sebastian seized their armament, picked up two pastries and clipped the other two to his belt.
A student had reached the top of the climbing frame and was defending it with utmost ferocity. Pie after pie rained from the heavens onto would-be usurpers of the high ground.
Sebastian knew he’d have to capture the frame to have any hope of winning. It would be a long shot from where he stood, but he had three pies to spare, and he’d been practicing after school. He could make it.
He flipped one pie in his hand, gripped it like a discus, then sent it spinning up at an angle, cream-side down. It floated across the gym, then dropped with a squelch on the target’s mask. She toppled from the frame and fell into the pool. Fortunately, her padded pie-suit would have protected her from injury.
Sebastian sprinted across the gym, leaped up on the frame, and fired his last three pies at his remaining opponents. Everyone else was either unarmed or blinded. He raised his hands in triumph, then gasped as a pie smashed into his face. His mask polarized, and he toppled, landing on the floor with a thump. From above, he heard a familiar voice.
“Should’ve checked the pool, Seb. I still had one pie left.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I’ll get you for that, Karen.”
Feedback?
Very Good, POSOC.
I agree. Very good.
Excellent! *plans*
Hypatia broke the think-a-thon with a groan. Beavo hastily moved her to a soft bed and put a blanket over her, while also shoving more chocolate down her throat.
247 – Yeah, that’s awesome! I want a PE class like that!
“Well,” Groundhog said, “What are we doing now?”
“About another hour” said Kokonilly.
“Dang it,” groaned Speller.
Alice now remembered something. “What about the beep we heard?”
“That was the microwave,” yelled Beavo from the back. “Anybody want popcorn?”
There was a flurry of activity as everybody rushed to grab some popcorn.
—————————-
Does anybody in my story have food allergies?
The theif was pushing us back, towards the wall. My hand brushed something made out of hard plastic. I knew what it was, even in the dim light. I’d seen it every day in school since my elementary days.
A fire alarm.
I pulled down the lever, and, instantly, the loud, piercing alarm bell sounded. It caught the theif of guard, giving Kokonilly time to score a hit on his arm!
“I cut off your weapon hand. You loose.” She said.
Museum guards and 501st troopers swarmed in through the door.
“What’s going on in here, kids?”
“He stole Darth Vader!” We both shouted, pointing.
“What? he stole Darth Vader? no,” charges after theif.
“Well, Vader’s armor, I mean.” I added.
The police took the theif away. The museum staff returned the armor to the exhibit, and we got to view it after all. It was certainly worth the trouble.
It turned out that the theif had been a stunt man who had worked on the prequels, which explained his skill at lightsaber dueling. Apparently, he worked too hard, went a little crazy, and was fired. He had stolen the Vader armor and was going to destroy it as an act of revenge against George Lucas for fireing him.
Thank goodness we had stopped him.
A member of the 501st asked us if we wanted to say anything.
“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Kokonilly said.
256- I’m going to test your Star Wars Knolage:
How Many pages was the first Draft of it?
Oh noes! I am out cold. I’m also kind of preppy/insane. Can my pet be 80000000 kittens? *drools lovingly at thought*
213- I am an expert eyebrow-archer.
258 – Yes, you may have a pet. Or two. Or 80000000.
ANY FOOD ALLERGIES (in my story) TO BUTTER, WHEAT, AND/OR ANYTHING ELSE?
234- Fun fun!
259- I’m not allergic to anything. But I can be. If you want me to. I can get and EPI pen, too.
261 – Okay. I’ll wait for anyone who is REALLY allergic, then I can modify you.
After Sebastian changed and washed his cream-clotted pie suit, he left the locker room and briskly walked through the corridors to Modern History.
He was an inconspicuous figure among the other hurrying students. Sebastian’s facial structure seemed somewhat Asian, though his short blond hair was anything but. Another distinctive feature was his long fingers with knobbly knuckles, although those were concealed beneath his gloves at present. He wore khaki slacks, a white, collared shirt, and a long winter cloak, deep green, with the red Spector rose stitched on the back. A couple of books were submerged in the cloak’s deep inside pocket- West of West, by Alice W—–, and Modern Theories of Cosmology, by Dr. W. Hayden. His tastes in literature were varied.
Sebastian made a sharp left. Modern History was in the next building. On a typical day, he would have crossed over the pie-throwing range outside to get there, but on a marrow-bitingly cold day like this one, not even his snug winter uniform would protect him from the chill. No, today he would be taking Fzlblt Slip.
Never mind.
———————————————————————–
Only one person hesitated. After a tragic burn involving popcorn, Misswann was still hesitant with popcorn.
That sounds really stupid; ignore post 264.
A tragic burn? >_<
233-
Name: Alice
DoB: August 21, 1993
Looks: See Spokane Kokon thread
Future Career: Something in theater, science, or language (English included), possibly a teacher.
Thanks Alice and Kokonilly!
By the way, August birthdays toooooootally rock!
*eyeroll* 3/5 of my family has an August birthday. It’s just me in May and my dad in February that don’t.
The passage appeared to end in a broom closet, but nowhere than at Muse Academy is it more true that looks can be deceiving. Sebastian reached into the “closet” and seized the handle of an old mop stuck to the floor with concealed grime. He shoved it back into a slot in the wall.
There were a few mysterious chugging noises, then the floor dropped out, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.
Sebastian hurried through the passage, his cloak flapping out behind him in the air currents. Fzlblt Slip was reasonably warm due to the proximity of the Baker kitchen, but its stone walls were always slightly chilly.
Sebastian heard a skittering noise, and whirled around. Then he relaxed. It was only a couple of the resident wungs, watching him curiously from a ledge in the wall. They blinked twice, in unison, then vanished down a smaller passage. No doubt they were heading for one of the central wung colonies under the floorboards.
Sebastian knew the wungs were unnatural, the descendants of specimens rescued from Ronald Tardiff’s vile genetics lab, but he’d never considered them strange. All of the wungs which could bear cold climates had been relocated to Muse Academy, and by the time Sebastian had arrived, their population was already increasing exponentially. There were even a few colonies outside the Academy, scattered over the island, and Aeiou theorized that they would soon spread to the mainland.
240-A daughter of mine in COONTZ? *resists the urge to disown immidiatly*
Kidding, kidding. I’m not the mathematical type, though. At least she got INTO MA. Thank the FSM.
Yay! Go Karen, pieing the main charcacter! It’s great, POSOC.
233-I have my description, like, everywhere.
(271) Alas, it happens in the best of families.
271- She takes after her mother.
‘Lo, peeps? No one’s posting here.
274- I was waiting for someone to comment on my latest installment of the story. I’ll probably write again soon- don’t worry.
writer’s block, ’nuff said
The tunnel began sloping upward to a narrow door that seemed wedged into the rock. Sebastian pulled it open, slid a panel aside, and emerged in the humid, warm cheese vaults of Baker House.
Hurrying past monstrous stacks of Novo Swinford, Fine Brie and Eislandt Blau, Sebastian reached the other side of the vault. The automatic door buzzed open, and he dashed through- it would close in a second to minimize moisture loss.
Sebastian jogged up the stairs- he knew he would be late if he didn’t get to History soon- and emerged in a narrow corridor with various doors lining it. He managed to get into Room 29 just before the bell rang.
‘Cheese vaults???’ XD LOL!!!!!!
278- We take our Cheese Vaults very seriously.
279 – A Bakerite, I presume?
273-I MARRIED a COONTZ? *faints dead away which is lucky because the twenty million pies sailing my way miss me by inches*
*revives*
Just kidding, gosh! She better be a Leo.
281- Opposites attract, dude.
282-ooh! POSOC! may I ask my inclusion in the story… perhaps as a teacher?
283- Sure, I’ll make you the Modern History teacher. What do you want to be like?
281- Why a leo?
Continuing…
——————————————————————————————
Beavo had made several bags of popcorn. It seemed that he had found a MASSIVE microwave that could pop five bags of popcorn at once. With Hypatia and Misswann still drowsing, that was plenty for the five remaining MuseBloggers. Everybody had one, and Speller noticed that everybody ate differently. We are all very different, mused Speller, But we all like Muse.
Kokonilly ate one at a time, but was rapidly devouring it. Beavo just shoved big handfuls into his mouth.
That’s one BAG of popcorn each, mind you.
Triple post, sorry.
———————————————————————-
Alice turned suddenly. “I thought I just heard a rustle in that cardboard box.”
It rustled again. Then, a worn-out man jumped out.
“Don’t DO that!” shrieked Kokonilly while Groundhog rolled on the floor laughing hysterically.
“I’m sorry, Kokonilly, I promise never to jump out of a cardboard box again,” said The Man For Aeiou, grinning.
Beavo grinned. “Nice one, TMFA. Want some popcorn?”
Quadruple post, but, hey, at least I’m getting the story done.
—————————————————————————-
“Heck yeah!” TMFA popped a bag of popcorn for himself in ten seconds flat.
“Where have you BEEN all this time, TMFA?” asked Alice.
“Mmph…” TMFA swallowed. “I was a hermit. I went into hiding after Muse got destroyed by that jerk.”
“Explain to me exactly what happened,” said Kokonilly in a forced tone. “I never knew exactly what happened to Muse.’
“Well, here’s what happened,” said Speller, cutting off TMFA’s attempted explanation.
“As you said earlier, there was an evil Muse who was planning to take over Muse since the beginning, when he got cut from the Muse tryouts.
“In 2012, as you all know, Muse got infiltrated. The GAPAs and editors got bunnified, and the Muses vanished.
“But what you never mentioned was exactly WHO the evil Muse was. I did a bit of research and discovered it was…” Her voice started quivering. “A hot-pink bunny.”
284-oh really? cool. Well, I’d probably be a little hyper… you know… the sort of hyper that makes you wear a costume to teach your class, just to dive one of your points home. I wouldn’t be disliked by students… probably weird, but every one knows me… so every one is used to me by now. It’s just a fact… and I need something weird… I’ll always have a yo-yo… yeah. Physical… light brown hair… maybe thin beard… about 5′ 10″… clothes don’t matter. yeah. Thanks for letting me be in it…
“A… what?” spluttered Groundhog.
“I knew they were evil, but I never knew they were THIS evil, and we threw pies at them, and I guess they WERE evil,” babbled Beavo.
Kokonilly sat down. “Como?” ((My version of ‘Say what?’))
Cat’s Meow whispered, “We should have known.”
Alice agreed. “I mean, we should have predicted this.”
Kokonilly muttered, “At least I brought a case of bunnyproof suits… but they’re the old models, the ones without darts.”
Groundhog looked up. “I brought a lot of suits. The latest model. All from our lab.” She started to smile.
LATER…
Everyone had put on their suits. Kokonilly checked that panel. “The year is currently… 1776.”
“Let’s go outside and say hi to George Washington!” said Beavo enthusiastically. Kokonilly stared him down.
“No,” she said firmly. “We cannot go outside. Unless you wish to be spaghettified?” She looked around.
In unison, there was a shout of “no”.
———————————————————————-
Gimanator: Do you wish to be in the story, as long as you have posted your profile on here? I can work you in somehow.
292- I actually posted that for POSOC’s story, but you can tell me what’s going on… I haven’t been following a lot, see, I’ll need to make adjustments for your story.
Gimanator, what’s your last initial?
293 – It’s 13 years into the future, Muse and Museblog have collapsed, and the former Musers are taking a trip into the past to defeat the rejected Muse. They’re going to the Elizabethan era, when the rejected Muse – an HPB – began making his plans.
I’m going to make a story about a team of environmental scientists who research ecological mysteries. Who wants to be on the team?
To perk this thread up, I’m issuing a challenge! *throws gauntlet*
Using less than 500 words, write an answer to this question: What will the MuseBlog be like in 10 years? Each entry will receive one of these awards:
Funniest
Weirdest
Scariest
Most Imaginative
Most Plausible
Other (whatever I can think of)
Descriptions can include, but are not limited to: New GAPAs; Blogular trends; State of the Musiverse; software updates; and the magazine or the outside world, if there are words left over.
297- OK. I accept the challenge and will write in due course.
The year is 2018. Many of the former MuseBloggers are in positions of great influence and power, and the advertising campaigns of the past have paid off: Muse and MuseBlog are truly famous. With this surge of importance, the GAPAs discovered that they could not keep up with all the posts and the Academy both, so they appointed eight veteran MBers GAPAs, and though they still come on, they are not seen on the Blog as often as they once were. Muse Academy is thriving, already packed with students, and all seems to be going well for the kokonspiracy.
But not all Bloggers understand the peaceful goals of Mostly Harmless: to perpetrate literacy and replace bombs with pies. One young man has turned to the pink side, using his knowledge of genetic manipulation to create an army of hot pink bunnies, who are only waiting for the right moment to strike…
Hmm. I have three hundred more words to use up. Disregard that entry. I’ll elaborate on it.
A note about your entries: please try to make them at least slightly realistic.
in ten years the blog will be run by the four gapas, plus DL, and Nak. the blog will have been on of the first websites to move to internet2, making it very fast. we will post videos. the museica is is having it’s tenth conitutional convention. Zemtee will have taken over Muserland, and The protectors are in panic. the magazine will be 36 inches tall and 24 inches wide , and 100 pages long. POSOC and KaVies are the Q and A people, writing 10 anwers each. Gonick has retitred, and Rebecca has taken over as Muse Cartoonist. paul has his own coulum.Roseanne works for the back pages, ten pages in the back, while Robert runs Bo’s Pages, 10 in the front.
300- Yes, do elaborate. It looks as though you’re a strong competitor for Scariest.
302- You’ll probably either win Most Optimistic or Most Shameless Bribery.
303- what shameless bribery? The Gapas did talk about you doing it…
296 – Ooh! Pick me! Pick me! *waves hand frantically*
304- True
Although, if I recall correctly, Queenie J was the partner they suggested, not KaiYves- though Kai wasn’t on the blog at that time, so it’s possible.
306- I thought she was a good pick since She loves Astronomy.
Visit the Suggestion box!
I’ll write my own Muse Future after everyone else has.
In 10 years, the blog will have soared. Mostly Harmless has been achieved at last. The GAPAs are now composed of seven dedicated former MuseBloggers:
Alice, Grant O., POSOC, Cat’s Meow, Beavo, IBCF, and Red-tailed HAWK.
The former GAPAs now run the magazine. Paul has his own column, exclusively in Elizabethan. Rebecca also has her own column, specializing in updates on the war on hot-pink bunnies, which – she suspects – have infiltrated Muse. Robert handles the contests and choosing of articles, and Roseanne handles all Muse Mail. Urania does Q&A, and Bo does Bo’s page. Gonick still handles all of the drawings, comics and such, but is selecting a predecessor.
The website looks largely the same, but runs a heck of a lot faster. The smileys are all the same, and all of the current threads are mainly up and running, however the GAPAs have closed down Bunny Apocalypse on account of the fear coursing through the company of the bunny infiltration.
Mostly Harmless has been fulfilled. The PPP, where the Muse industry now resides, has no bombs, guns, or any sort of weapon besides pies. Literacy is 100% in the entire Museica galaxy. Muse is currently circulating throughout 42 planets and 27 star systems.
I’ll elaborate more later. 206 words isn’t bad in 5 minutes, though.
309- what about me :pity:
The year is 2018. Many of the former MuseBloggers are in positions of great influence and power, and the advertising campaigns of the past have paid off: Muse and MuseBlog are truly famous. With this surge of importance, the GAPAs discovered that they could not keep up with all the posts and the Academy both, so they appointed eight veteran MBers GAPAs, and though they still come on, they are not seen on the Blog as often as they once were. Muse Academy is thriving, already packed with students. Muse is now 52 pages long and it’s original size, and contains zero ads. Robert and Rosanne do the Q&A again–but so do Andy and Ruth. That’s right, there are four questions in each Q&A. Each issue has a two-page cartoon by Larry Gonick, and there’s always a graphic or two in there by Lady B. Paul has a column where he talks about random and interesting things, and there’s usually at least one article by an MBer. Musery Loves Company is now an actual store in Muse, Pennsylvania, where MuseBlog Press also has its home. Yes, all seems to be peachy for the kokonspiracy.
But not all Bloggers understand the peaceful goals of Mostly Harmless: to perpetrate literacy and replace bombs with pies. One young man has turned to the pink side, using his knowledge of genetic manipulation to create an army of hot pink bunnies, who are only waiting for the right moment to strike…
Ooh, this is going to be a tough decision.
310-I was going to say- I would’ve applied if I could…
294-uhhh… W.
303- alright. I’ve decided to be a challenge to Alice’s position…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The year is 2018. Unfortunately, the blog is in shambles. The problems began sometime in late 2007, and slowly intensified. More and more newbies flooded the blog, with the GAPA’s struggling to keep up with the posts.
To make the injury worse, mostly harmless worked, but completely backfired. Slowly but surely muse spread, and as an increasing success, so did Muse Blog. This meant that frighteningly, non-musers began to penetrate the ranks of the flooding noobs. Before long, the floods of newbies become floods of non-muser newbies. As friends told friends about the amazing phenomenon of Muse Blog, more of the non-musers came. Forced into a facade of congeniality, the GAPA’s had to stand strong against the tsunami of un-educatedness. Many of actual musers are forced off the blog. As the waves continue to intensify, the remaining musers are forced into onto a single hidden thread, cloaked from the comments bar. The GAPAs are the only cover for these rebels, who, against the odds, plan to retake the blog. Although, one day, a non-educated muser, cooldude73847, makes and accidental click on the one correctly spelled word of the comments on the main thread-the-and finds himself a link to a very confusing thread…
~~~~~~~~~~~~
207 words…
313-
I hope that never actually happens. 
313- OK, you’re a serious contender.
313-as in, serious category, or seriously scary category?
er, oops. I meant to say 315– etc…
316- Seriously scary.
Oh my goodness! This looks like fun! I’ll write something at school and type it up on here tomorrow. Wait-does it have to be about the future MuseBlog?
318-yes, I figured. Alright alice… we’ll see the winner… soon…
320- *ominous music*
285-I’m an Aries. We’d better have our signs right, if nothing else is.
Robby dear, you do know I’m kidding, right?
286-Gosh, Beevs, you’re such a slob!
Re: POSOC’s challenge- Grr. I can’t think of anything to write now, but I’ll think about it later.
Anybody want to be on the team I mentioned in 296? If so, write your description, and special skills.
323 – Okey dokes:
Profile: Red hair with a wide purple streak and a thin green one. Pretty tall: 5′6″. Wears things that are vaguely reminiscent of the 1960’s, hobbits, or both. Interests: The arts, cooking, computers. Personality: Usually pretty diplomatic and kind, etc. However, if she gets angry, she gets ANGRY, and will probably end up throwing something across the room. Likes helping others, which can annoy the intended recipients of her help, as they sometimes think that she’s just trying to show off her intelligence. She has a rather bigger collection of random facts than the average Muser, and therefore knows at least one thing about nearly everything. That’s not to say that the one thing is of any use to anyone, but still. She also free associates a lot. She has ADD and takes meds for it. If she’s off meds, then she becomes slightly jumpy and her attention span will either be about five seconds long or she’ll hyperfocus on something. Her short term memory also suffers. Special skills: Biology/Biochemistry, drawing diagrams, I’m not really sure what you mean by special skills…
324- That’s good.
323 – PROFILE:
Short brownish-black hair, brown eyes, brown elliptical glasses, and lime green braces. 4’11”. Asian. If that helps.
Clothing: A barely working black-banded watch, a t-shirt with no words, jeans. Mickey Mouse Crocs, i.e., black with a red strap and Mickey Mouse-shaped holed. Purse? Fine. A black one with shiny Mickey Mouse-shaped sequins.
Personality: Quirky, laughs EXTREMELY easily, can be serious (rarely), kind-ish, but extremely irritable at times. When she gets mad, she boils within, making sharp remarks and is liable to kicking and scratching. Her ears turn red. Doesn’t like to be in the spotlight. Has a large collection of extremely random and useless facts and spews them at inopportune times. Gets hyper occasionally. Can be unintentionally annoying when she tries to help them with something. Is not as tough (emotionally) as everyone thinks.
Interests: Reading, playing videogames, Star Wars, Harry Potter.
Skills: Doing poorly in logarithms, taking things apart, mental games such as Brain Age, sudoku, and those Activation Panels in Lego Star Wars, Lego Star Wars, strategy games, Pokemon…
Okay, what should we call our organization? I was thinking of Atlantic Ecological Investigations.
327 – Well, what’s the GOAL of the organization?
328- To investigate ecological mysteries and find the cause.
Last call for entries! Contest deadline is post 350!
can i leave poetry?
Sebastian sat down and activated his desk, waving to Felicia across the room. He pulled out an electronic stylus from its slot below the desk and waited.
Mr. W. entered the room precisely seven seconds after the bell rang. Or rather, his yo-yo did. It shot into the room like a missile, hung tantalizingly below the Muse flag, and retracted into his hand with a snap. Mr. W’s yo-yo was his most prominent and constant feature. When questioned about it, he was known to reply “Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington carried them- why shouldn’t I?” It didn’t bother Sebastian, and it never interfered with Mr. W’s lessons.
“Go to Chapter 17- Mostly Harmless, section 3- Muse,” said the teacher, the yo-yo transcribing lazy loops below his hand.
Sebastian tapped the icons for History, Modern, Mostly Harmless, and Muse in order. A multiple-page document popped up on the desk screen.
Mr. W. picked up his own stylus and tapped the multiboard at the front of the class. A map of the Western Hemisphere appeared on the screen. With a few gestures, Mr. W. zoomed the view in until only the central portion of North America remained. A series of taps, and a political map of a vaguely familiar nation appeared.
“What can you tell me about this country?” Mr. W. inquired.
Felicia’s hand was in the air quickly. “The United States of America. Founded 1776, dissolved 2027. Formerly a global superpower. Part of the First Republic of Muse under Ronald Tardiff, 2027-2031. Now part of the Second Republic of Muse under the Muse Executive Council. Divided between two administrative districts- District One, formerly under Diana Lutz, now under Alice Charette W****. District Three, formerly under Rebecca Lasley, now under Eric Bosch- ”
Mr. W. smiled. “Quite enough. Thank you, Felicia. Now, why is this nation significant to Mostly Harmless?”
This time, Sebastian managed to get his hand in the air before Felicia did. “Two reasons. First, it was home to the Great and Powerful Administrators, and second, it was where Tardiff began to seize power.”
“Not quite correct,” Felicia interrupted. “Paul Baker was from England.”
“True,” Mr. W. replied, “but in other respects Sebastian is right. In the presidential election of 2024, Ronald Tardiff won by a narrow margin over his rival candidates. It is the consensus of most historians that he used his considerable technological skill to alter the election results, but he did gain a significant following. Nobody has been able to determine yet how many people actually voted for him. He was very good at covering his electronic tracks.”
“And after that,” said another student, “he began the takeover.”
“Exactly. His first conquest was in Canada. He supported the Quebec independence referendum, then declared war one year later over a border dispute that was most probably orchestrated by his own army. Meanwhile, the Administrators, recognizing how far he’d sunk, fled to Iceland, where Muserly ideals had gained a strong following and a social movement was beginning to grow… “
331- What sort of poetry?
I think I want one or two more investigators. Probably a leader and a techie.
Feedback? I was hoping that dropping a few hints to the history of Mostly Harmless would generate some comments…
Anyhow, I’ll write a bit more later. The action’s going to begin soon.
335- it’s nice. add something about muse scouts.
336- I’ll try to put something in somewhere.
335- I like it very much.
In 10 years, the blog will have soared. Mostly Harmless has been achieved at last. The GAPAs are now composed of seven dedicated former MuseBloggers:
Alice, Grant O., POSOC, Cat’s Meow, Beavo, IBCF, and Red-tailed HAWK.
The former GAPAs now run the magazine. Paul has his own column, exclusively in Elizabethan. Rebecca also has her own column, specializing in updates on the war on hot-pink bunnies, which – she suspects – have infiltrated Muse. Robert handles the contests and choosing of articles, and Roseanne handles all Muse Mail. Urania does Q&A, and Bo does Bo’s page. Gonick still handles all of the drawings, comics and such, but is selecting a predecessor.
The website looks largely the same, but runs a heck of a lot faster. The smileys are all the same, and all of the current threads are mainly up and running, however the GAPAs have closed down Bunny Apocalypse on account of the fear coursing through the company of the bunny infiltration.
Mostly Harmless has been fulfilled. The PPP, where the Muse industry now resides, has no bombs, guns, or any sort of weapon besides pies. Literacy is 100% in the entire Museica galaxy. Muse is currently circulating throughout 42 planets and 27 star systems.
Muse Academy is a real school, and the teachers are:
TMFA, KaiYves, Kokonilly, Turquoise, gimanator, groundhog, and speller.
The curriculum involves pie-throwing, pie kwan do, and world domination.
The other Musers have migrated to other planets and now rule a total of 42 planets.
The Muses also are the government for the PPP.
The hot-pink bunnies, furious with the rise, have declared war on Muse. The Musers are currently winning, but the Muses think they have infiltrated the ranks of Muse with their spies.
290 words. Am I a candidate?
——————————————————————-
“That’s what I thought,” nodded Kokonilly.
Hypatia started to wake up. “Wow, she must really have been hyper,” muttered Cat’s Meow. “It usually lasts about six hours.”
“Oh, great,” groaned TMFA. “You put her under because she was hyper?”
“Yeah,” said Cat’s Meow, miffed.
“It never works, you know.”
“How would YOU know? You were a hermit.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t read,” he snapped.
“Okay, stop bickering,” said Alice. “Let’s see what happened to Hypatia.”
I’ll post another installment- as soon as I get past level 48 on Freerice.
I reached level 50 on Freerice and finished my math homework, so I have no excuse for putting this off any longer.
By the way, this is a two-part story arc (distinct from the earlier volume). The first part, the one I’m writing now, is called Blizzard. The second, if all goes according to my rough outline (by no means a guarantee) will be called Swarm.
~
Several hours later, Sebastian jogged up the winding, red-carpeted stairs of Spector Tower. He pressed the rose carved into the ornate banister, heard the click, and felt the landing drop out from under him, depositing him on the soft rug of the Spector common room.
“Hey, Seb!” called Martin Gomez from the other side of the room. “I was wondering when you’d turn up.”
Sebastian got to his feet, turning to face the slight, dark-skinned Martin. “I had to stay an extra half hour- pie kwan do practice.”
“Keep it up, dude, you’re going to be the next Bruce Lee. Or the next Kokopelli. Whatever.”
Sebastian blinked. “Bruce who?”
Martin laughed. “Figures. You don’t watch old movies much, do you? Anyway, Lucia and I are off to the Hop and Spine to play some Paker. You coming?”
“Sure. I don’t have much homework. Let’s go.”
Sebastian and Martin pulled their cloaks back on and clambered out of the window, dropping down the rope ladder like spider monkeys. Martin’s younger sister, Lucia, was waiting for them outside.
Martin surveyed the horizon as they trudged across the icy campus, shivering. “Looks like there’s a storm blowing in. I hope we don’t get snowed in.”
“If we do, there’s always the catacombs,” Lucia replied. “We’ll be able to get back without too much trouble. Speaking of which, I’m freezing. Let’s take a passage the rest of the way.”
Sebastian ran through the list of secret passages he, Felicia, Martin and Karen had discovered over their one-and-a-half years in Muse Academy North. “The closest one is near the base of Muse Tower. That’ll take us outside the western wall, but we’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Lucia asserted. “Come on.”
Looks interesting, POSOC. Do you want to be an investigator in my story?
342- Sure- preferably as a leader, but I’d be fine with techie.
343- Okay, what do you think of the name?
The begining of the Ecological Investigators story:
I was attaching a newspaper clipping about our last case to the corkboard with thumbtacks when POSOC burst in. In shock, I dropped the paper, which slowly fluttered to the ground.
“I just got a tip on our biggest case yet! This is big, really big!” he announced
He didn’t have to shout. The headquarters of Atlantic Ecological Investigations was a small house with only one floor, plus a garage. Our other two investigators, Kokonilly and Groundhog22, were in the room within five seconds.
“What’s this big case, POSOC?†Goundhog asked, scratching her head near the purple streak in her hair.
“Some guy over in Skye Point wants us to investigate his land. He took some, um interesting pictures there a week ago.â€
“What’s so interesting about them?†I asked, being the resident photography expert.
“He says they show tracks made by… a dinosaur.â€
I made a snorting noise. Groundhog giggled.
“We’re environmentalists, buddy. We’re not Mulder and Scully.†Kokonilly said.
344- Seems good to me.
The trio progressed across the campus at speed, heading for the squat grayness of Muse Tower.
It contained only five floors, and was nearly as big around as it was tall. Very little was known about what went on inside it. Kokopelli, Aeiou and Crraw sometimes left to welcome new students or deliver special lectures (the other six Muses were currently at the campuses in New Zealand and Mare Fecunditatis), but students were never invited in. The Heads of House would, in theory, go there in the event of a dire emergency or other vital matter, but this hadn’t happened yet.
On this occasion, Sebastian and his companions were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Aeiou through a high window.
Despite the legendary mystique surrounding the ennead*, Aeiou wasn’t visually impressive. She was a tall, thin Asian woman with a rounded, cheerful face and her dark hair in a bun. She wore a flowing magenta dress with long, wispy sleeves.
Crraw was something else again- a raven larger than a turkey, pure black except for yellow beak, with wings that would have done credit to an albatross. His perching stance on the windowsill was more like an owl’s than a crow’s- upright, to help support his unusually large braincase. A seam in the feathers on each side of his beak made it look like his mouth was on the verge of quirking up into an amused smile.
Aeiou looked down, giving them a little wave, then the duo of Muses passed beyond the window and out of sight.
*A group of nine. I learned it on Freerice.
Very nice.
For those who don’t know their lunar features: Mare Fecundatis (aka The Sea of Feritility) is a lava plain (Mare) in the eastern part of the Moon. It’s connected to the well known Sea of Tranquility.
It was really, really tough to make up Muses that actually worked. Even with genetic engineering at my disposal, I had to figure out the ramifications of an intelligent crow. I tried to resolve that with the description in my previous post. Chad, Urania, Aeiou, and Mimi were pretty easy- although I had to make Aeiou and Mimi a bit more humanoid. Bo required very few modifications besides a mouth capable of human speech and a brain capable of intelligence. Feather… was difficult. And then there’s the problem of Pwt’s gender, which can’t remain ambiguous outside a cartoon. With Kokopelli, I just gave up and had Tardiff build an android.
Oop! Post 350! I’ve got to judge the entries. One moment.
Is anyone starting to crave a new thread? If so, just say the word.
Kokonilly
In 10 years, the blog will have soared. Mostly Harmless has been achieved at last. The GAPAs are now composed of seven dedicated former MuseBloggers:
Alice, Grant O., POSOC, Cat’s Meow, Beavo, IBCF, and Red-tailed HAWK.
The former GAPAs now run the magazine. Paul has his own column, exclusively in Elizabethan. Rebecca also has her own column, specializing in updates on the war on hot-pink bunnies, which – she suspects – have infiltrated Muse. Robert handles the contests and choosing of articles, and Roseanne handles all Muse Mail. Urania does Q&A, and Bo does Bo’s page. Gonick still handles all of the drawings, comics and such, but is selecting a predecessor.
The website looks largely the same, but runs a heck of a lot faster. The smileys are all the same, and all of the current threads are mainly up and running, however the GAPAs have closed down Bunny Apocalypse on account of the fear coursing through the company of the bunny infiltration.
Mostly Harmless has been fulfilled. The PPP, where the Muse industry now resides, has no bombs, guns, or any sort of weapon besides pies. Literacy is 100% in the entire Museica galaxy. Muse is currently circulating throughout 42 planets and 27 star systems.
Muse Academy is a real school, and the teachers are:
TMFA, KaiYves, Kokonilly, Turquoise, gimanator, groundhog, and speller.
The curriculum involves pie-throwing, pie kwan do, and world domination.
The other Musers have migrated to other planets and now rule a total of 42 planets.
The Muses also are the government for the PPP.
The hot-pink bunnies, furious with the rise, have declared war on Muse. The Musers are currently winning, but the Muses think they have infiltrated the ranks of Muse with their spies.
Most Optimistic
~
gimanator
The year is 2018. Unfortunately, the blog is in shambles. The problems began sometime in late 2007, and slowly intensified. More and more newbies flooded the blog, with the GAPA’s struggling to keep up with the posts.
To make the injury worse, mostly harmless worked, but completely backfired. Slowly but surely muse spread, and as an increasing success, so did Muse Blog. This meant that frighteningly, non-musers began to penetrate the ranks of the flooding noobs. Before long, the floods of newbies become floods of non-muser newbies. As friends told friends about the amazing phenomenon of Muse Blog, more of the non-musers came. Forced into a facade of congeniality, the GAPA’s had to stand strong against the tsunami of un-educatedness. Many of actual musers are forced off the blog. As the waves continue to intensify, the remaining musers are forced into onto a single hidden thread, cloaked from the comments bar. The GAPAs are the only cover for these rebels, who, against the odds, plan to retake the blog. Although, one day, a non-educated muser, cooldude73847, makes and accidental click on the one correctly spelled word of the comments on the main thread-the-and finds himself a link to a very confusing thread…
Scariest
~
Alice
The year is 2018. Many of the former MuseBloggers are in positions of great influence and power, and the advertising campaigns of the past have paid off: Muse and MuseBlog are truly famous. With this surge of importance, the GAPAs discovered that they could not keep up with all the posts and the Academy both, so they appointed eight veteran MBers GAPAs, and though they still come on, they are not seen on the Blog as often as they once were. Muse Academy is thriving, already packed with students. Muse is now 52 pages long and it’s original size, and contains zero ads. Robert and Rosanne do the Q&A again–but so do Andy and Ruth. That’s right, there are four questions in each Q&A. Each issue has a two-page cartoon by Larry Gonick, and there’s always a graphic or two in there by Lady B. Paul has a column where he talks about random and interesting things, and there’s usually at least one article by an MBer. Musery Loves Company is now an actual store in Muse, Pennsylvania, where MuseBlog Press also has its home. Yes, all seems to be peachy for the kokonspiracy.
But not all Bloggers understand the peaceful goals of Mostly Harmless: to perpetrate literacy and replace bombs with pies. One young man has turned to the pink side, using his knowledge of genetic manipulation to create an army of hot pink bunnies, who are only waiting for the right moment to strike…
Most Tantalizing
~
TMFA
in ten years the blog will be run by the four gapas, plus DL, and Nak. the blog will have been on of the first websites to move to internet2, making it very fast. we will post videos. the museica is is having it’s tenth conitutional convention. Zemtee will have taken over Muserland, and The protectors are in panic. the magazine will be 36 inches tall and 24 inches wide , and 100 pages long. POSOC and KaVies are the Q and A people, writing 10 anwers each. Gonick has retitred, and Rebecca has taken over as Muse Cartoonist. paul has his own coulum.Roseanne works for the back pages, ten pages in the back, while Robert runs Bo’s Pages, 10 in the front.
Most Detailed
Yes, I would like a new thread… even though this is the first time I’ve posted on this thread… A story is formulating in my head…
352-huzzah! just the outcome I wanted! I thought about making my own fanfiction, sort of an anti muse holocaust, but I decided a bit on the early plot, and I figured no one wanted to be dead… I’d have to make loose sculptures around the musers…. and go from there… I’ll think about it… hmmm…
And, as promised, my own Muse Future.
The year is 2018, and the blog is very different.
Paul, Rebecca, Robert and Rosanne are still officially Administrators, but they are no longer on much. Lady Bunniful and her Elizabethan business partner have turned the Hare and Hedgepig into a thriving enterprise. Separate from the blog, though still affiliated with it, the tearoom now has a property in Second Life. It does a roaring trade in comestibles and virtual Musery shirts (you wouldn’t believe how much some people pay to have their avatars drink virtual tea, nibble virtual crumpets, and wear virtual shirts endorsing Mostly Harmless). Paker is also played there, but it is necessarily more structured than in the early days, and while it is popular, many MBers still prefer the blog’s house rules. The Hare and Hedgepig has not been vulgarized by its popularity; indeed, if a guest behaves in an unbecoming manner and ignores requests to “sit up and stop fidgeting,” the serving wungs give en a severe lub-lining and eject en from the premises. Paul and Rebecca are also considering setting up a virtual Muse Academy once the tea-room has earned them enough Linden cash to pay for the construction.
The day-to-day moderation and thread creation is handled by the Triumvirate, a group of new GAPAs consisting of Oxlin Widdershins, Polly Shulman, and Grant O. The blog itself is still basically the traditional BlixKrieg format, but it now has a more 3-D, futuristic look. Random threads are bi-monthly, with only six per year. The Muse Wiki has been active for half a year, and while still sparse, is accumulating breadth and depth under the Triumvirate’s six watchful eyes.
The Musiverse is very different from the one we know, and not necessarily better. The Pieceful Pie Planet and Muserland have been dormant for over two years. Zemtee is still thriving, although Red-tailed Hawk’s successor is now on the imperial throne. She has proposed a Zemtee-led revitalization of Muserland; opinion is wildly divided on this subject, as some bloggers consider it a truly benevolent action, while others see it as an expansionistic ploy. The Flavor Continent has recovered from its devastating war and the GAPAs’ final intervention, becoming a thriving, prosperous confederation of flavorful nations. Museica is an entirely different story. Its provinces have been split apart by a civil war over centralization of power, which extends to the still-active Ships’ Logs thread and even to the highest levels of the Protectors, whose organization is beginning to crumble. Zemtee is covertly backing the side which favors the division of power, while Flavor openly supports federalization, and many fear that the Museworld is on the brink of world war…
At last, I shall write again. My last post is in here for reference.
“Forget about turning it off, Kai!†cried Kokonilly. “Give us a hand! You too, Lena!â€
Lena ran obediently over to where the three MuseBloggers were pulling at the paneling. “What are you doing?†she asked loudly.
“Just take off the paneling,†said Beavo. Lena tugged experimentally at it, and found that it peeled away easily.
POSOC had stuffed the rats back in his pocket and and was pulling at the wall in another place. “There’s no time!†he called to his friends. “Just forget it!†The alarm continued to blare. Lena thought she would never hear correctly again.
“But disguise!†said speller.
“Just FORGET IT!!!†said Kokonilly. “We’re never coming back here anyway!â€
Gimanator leaned more heavily against the door. TMFA and speller took the hint and did the same. “It’s not too long,†he said. “I think I hear ‘em!â€
Lena gasped, certain they would all perish at the hands of mysterious enemies. But than she gasped for quite another reason. The destruction of the wall had a reason, for now, where they had been taking apart the paneling, Lena saw a large metal door. And then she was being shoved through and the MuseBloggers were right behind her and the heavy door closed and she was in the dark.
Someone muttered something. A flashlight lit up the chamber in which they stood. It belonged to Gimanator, who was standing in front of an electronic control panel. “I can’t remember how to lock it…†he muttered.
“The hologram! Put up the hologram!â€
“I can’t.â€
“What do you mean, you can’t?†snapped KaiYves, peering over his shoulder.
“It’s broken,†he said.
“Oh, Kokopelli.†said TMFA. “We’re doomed.â€
Lena wasn’t sure whether to cry or not. It occurred to her that if she screamed loud enough, maybe, just maybe, she would be rescued. It took her a split second to decide: Possible freedom, or life with these taciturn strangers?
She drew a deep breath and opened her mouth.
Someone’s arm wrapped around her, and someone’s hand was clamped down over her mouth.
“Come on,” said POSOC. “Let’s get deeper into the tunnels. We may still have a chance.”
Lena was released, but this time she didn’t even try to escape, but followed the MuseBloggers docilely through the dank black air. Far behind them now, there was a banging noise. “Cake,” muttered Kokonilly.
Kai drew out a flashlight, which she used to illuminate the walls around. “I know there’s something somewhere around here…” she muttered.
“There it is,” said Beavo, pointing to a spot on the wall. It looked exactly the same as the rest of the wall.
“Where’s what?” asked Lena, but she received no reply. Kai had reached over and stuck a key into the wall. As Lena watched, she withdrew it and walked through. She was followed by Kokonilly, Gim, POSOC, speller, and Beavo. TMFA went last, pushing Lena through the wall ahead of him.
It led into another tunnel, almost exactly the same as the first, except that there was an open door which they had just come through. Or had they? It was open, but it led into solid rock. Lena frowned. POSOC closed the door.
“It’s a two-way hologram,” he told her.
“Oh.” Despite having grown up with holograms around her, Lena had never seen a two-way hologram, much less one that actually looked real. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”
POSOC shrugged. “They’re much more advanced than you know. Granted, we had some experts among us, but even so, the average citizen has no idea they can be used beyond media purposes.”
Now that they had at least a thin disguise between them and the intruders, the flight of the MuseBloggers became less of a run-or-die event, and more of a walk-as-quickly-as-you-can event. They walked for a long time, and Lena, who had to jog to keep up, was having trouble staying abreast of the group, when suddenly they came face-to-face with a woman.
She wore her hair in a ponytail, covered with a stylish but official-looking hat, and she was wearing a forest green uniform.
“Hello,” she said pleasantly.
The MuseBloggers’ tired, anxious faces wore various expressions of despair.
356,357- I like it.
Y’know, guys, just because a lot of people (including me) are doing or have done a future dystopia involving the MuseBloggers doesn’t mean everybody has to.
Oh, and a new thread would be quite nice.
What do you think of my story so far?
Who’s with me on my proposal for a new thread?
360- Looks good.
359- Yeh. I think my next one won’t have MuseBloggers at all.
I just had an idea for another fanfiction. Anyone can use it, as I’ll be focusing on my Schism epic for the foreseeable future.
After a failed attempt at Mostly Harmless and a world rapidly worsening, the MuseBloggers decide that the only way to preserve Musery is to change the past. Together, they construct a time machine and go back in time to the year 1300, along with necessary materials and supplies, and found a small settlement on the shore of Lake Michigan. They name it “Chicagoland” in honor of the birthplace of Muse. By the time Columbus arrives, a prosperous and advanced nation has sprung up around the Great Lakes.
One new thread, coming up.