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Messages - Spanner
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451
« on: July 16, 2003, 02:00:45 pm »
*OOC* Erg, it's been way too long since I did an Itamar post.  At least I'm not holding anyone up! *IC* "Are you certain about this, Mr. Lowe?" one of the two scientists asked cautiously. "Yes. I am ready," Itamar responded, a little nervously. He had a right to be nervous; he could see his arm before him, resting between two metal clamps, one around his wrist, the other around his elbow. Soon, the scientists would begin the experiment. "Remember, Mr. Lowe. Please inform us if you begin to feel discomfort. We will stop the experiment at once. You are a valuable guest here, and we do not wish to injure you." "I want to find out," Itamar responded. His heart was thumping wildly. "Please begin." Then, thinking to himself, "Before I lose my nerve..." The scientists nodded, happy to oblige. Actually, this was a novel experience for them, and one that they weren't entirely comfortable with.
From the day that they had been inducted into the Scientist Caste, Siegurne and Malchiel had been schooled in the art of complete impartiality. Whatever was brought before them, whether it be a chunk of ore, a preserved penguin-bear, or a sobbing child was to be treated as nothing more than a specimen. To treat the specimen as anything other than an object of scientific research was to risk applying emotional attachment. Emotional attachment invariably stood in the way of scientific advancement, and was to be avoided at any cost. Siegurne was personally glad that he'd never been presented with a sobbing child to work with, but he had been present for experiments involving adult humans, and even adult Shadow Tribesmen, in experiments which eventually resulted in their deaths. These specimens, he had dutifully treated with complete impartiality, even if he could still sometimes hear their screams in his nightmares. This latest specimen - no, Siegurne corrected himself, this Itamar Lowe - was to be treated differently. He and his companion had received orders from Lord Nahato himself to treat Itamar personably, and with respect. It was somewhat uncomforable, as Siegurne had little experience in behaving sociably, even with other members of the Phantom Tribe, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying the precepts of his Caste. Certainly, he'd already began to apply certain emotions to the subject, irritation primary among them, though he did his best not to show this. The sooner he was gone from his laboratory, the better. "I will start the pressure now, Mr. Lowe," Malchiel said calmly, "lightly at first, but increasing over time." He pressed a few controls on the console, and the two of them watched a number on the readout slowly begin to climb.
Itamar sweated as he watched his forearm. He had felt the clamps move slightly, and they were now applying a consistent pressure against his arm. It was not uncomfortable, but it was still worrying to know that the machine his arm was trapped in was making a concerted effort to break his arm. Time passed, and Itamar listened as the two scientists began to chatter excitedly to one another. He only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying. "...astounding! With this much pressure..." "...sillicon alloy would have splintered under half..." "...what is he MADE of? If an armor could be produced..." After a time, the scientists quit talking, and just stared as one at the readout. "Are you quite certain you are not feeling any pain?" one of them asked. "Yes, I am fine," Itamar answered. "Incredible..." the scientist answered. Then, with a shriek of metal, the pressure on Itamar's arm abruptly ceased, as did the hum of the equipment. "He... broke it!" one of the scientists exclaimed in disbelief. "I-I'm sorry!" Itamar exclaimed, pulling his arm free of the now intert device. "Please, no need to apologize," the other scientist reassured him. "The mistake was mine - I should have realized that the machine was reaching its tolerance." The scientist smiled at Itamar in a way that Itamar couldn't help but feel showed that smiling was not something the man commonly did. "It would seem that you are certainly a very sturdy young man, Mr. Lowe." The first scientist then dismissed him. "Well, I'd say we're through for today. Please, return tomorrow, and we should have the high-energy tests ready for you." "Very well. Thank you both," Itamar answered politely before excusing himself from the room.
Once the specimen had departed, Malchiel turned a longing look on the space he'd occupied. "If only we could obtain a genetic sample..." Siegurne snorted. "I rather doubt we've any equipment capable of extracting a decent sample. You'll have to make due with dead skin and hair cells." "Hardly ideal," Malchiel responded mournfully. Then he brightened. "Perhaps we will have better luck with the high-energy tests." "Perhaps," Siegurne agreed neutrally. "Come, we must present our results to Lord Nahato."
452
« on: July 15, 2003, 11:22:08 pm »
I gotta go with brown-haired Alielle. It just seems to go well with her eyes.
Of course, her eyes in this picture are a slightly different shade from Alielle's usual. Normally, they're much more purple. ^_^ I'd probably have to say that the red hair goes better with Alielle's normal eye color.
453
« on: July 15, 2003, 11:16:32 pm »
*Nods* I agree with Fujisawa for the most part. (Actually, I hadn't originally planned to give Itamar an "inertia control" power, but I think I probably should. He'll be too easy to defeat if he can be tossed around just like anyone else, regardless of how tough he is.) I would also suggest that you provide an explanation for just HOW Makoto and Ifurita had a child. Did they build one together? Or is Ifurita partially human? And if she is partially human, just how is it that she's still fertile after so many thousands of years?  You might also like to know that Ifurita and Makoto are not currently on El-Hazard in this game, both to prevent Ifurita from being too powerful a force in the game, and also to allow the premise to stand (if the Eye of God is malfunctioning, it's highly probable that Makoto and Ifurita would be able to fix it, or at least stop it). That doesn't mean that they couldn't have left their child behind, though, or sent the child from wherever they are. I, myself, play the child of Makoto and Ifurita in another RPG. She didn't get any of her mother's Demon God powers, but she did inherit her dad's knack with machines. And popularity with the opposite sex. 
454
« on: July 14, 2003, 04:08:36 pm »
Hmm... One suggestion might be short movies of cool scenes from the show. Like Shayla-Shayla's first "power up" sequence, or Ifurita's destruction of that city. Nothing like whole episodes, but clips that might increase interest in the series for the casual websurfer. Here's a few other cool scenes you might want to consider: OAV1: -Unsealing the Eye of God -The Giant Bugrom OAV2: -Shayla-Shayla's first kiss -The midair duel between Kalia and Ifurita 2 Alternative World: -Jinnai's abuse at Shayla's hands -The assembling of the Eye of God The Wanderers: -Ifurita's duel with Shayla and Miz -Makoto's swordfight with Jinnai Anyone else have favorite scenes they want to add to the list? Remember, they should be relatively short.
455
« on: July 14, 2003, 07:58:39 am »
Sorry, but if our charcters did fall in love, I'd have Rosh to deal with. You don't HAVE to have relationships within the game that mirror relationships in real life, you know! In fact, it's best that you didn't - there's a risk that you'll end up using the game forums for real-life flirting and stuff, rather than actually playing the game! I won't forbid it, though - it's your choice. But remember that you and Rosh already have something in reality (well, at least as close to reality as the Internet ever gets). An RPG is a chance to escape from and rewrite reality. It lets you experiment with ideas that would never work in real life. If you bring too much of reality into the game, it can become stale and unspontaneous, with everything already planned out. Have you considered the possibility that Lan and the princesses of Roshtaria might hate each other's guts, and never even become friends, let alone love interests? It might be an interesting inverted reflection to your relationship outside of the game.
456
« on: July 13, 2003, 09:37:03 pm »
I'm going to have to drop out. There's too much stupid stuff going on in my life right now that I can't focus on any of my RPG activities.
I suppose it doesn't really matter that much here though, since I never actually did anything. That's too bad, Shade! Still, if you ever find the time and interest, you're welcome to come back! BTW, just so the rest of you know, if I type something that makes it seem that, in the RPG, I have fallen in love with Kane, I haven't. It's just one of those trusting friends things. *Chuckles* You don't really need to tell us that. In fact, it might have been better if you didn't. If Executor thought your character was falling in love with his, and had his character respond accordingly - well, it could result in all kinds of silly romantic humor, no? On the other hand, if having characters fall in love with your character makes you uncomfortable, you're certainly free to request that it not happen. 
457
« on: July 10, 2003, 08:22:39 am »
Besides, I've got another question:
How to name the three priestresses??
As for now we got the name of the Priestress of flame.
Calya-Calya (Karuya-Karuya spoken)
It was supposed to sound different from Shayla-Shayla.
(umm...you might reedit the name in your posts panicpaladin, if you don't mind )
I would like to keep that name, but how about the rest?? I think it would be a good idea to leave the other priestesses unnamed and undescribed until we really need them. After all, we might get new players in the game who would like to play those priestesses! If we do, they would be the ones to decide on names and appearances. I just thought of something: Calya-Calya sounds awfully close to Kalia-Kalia. I wonder if she gets teased by the older generation about having the same name as a psychotic Demon God. Guards weren't really smart enough to take things like staffs. I mean, come on! They don't look very dangerous, do they? Well, actually, a lot of the guards in El-Hazard use staves as weapons themselves. ^_^;; So, it'd be unlikely that they would miss the value of Lan's staff as a weapon. Don't worry about it, though - perhaps the guards left Lan her staff because they believed she didn't have the skill to use it properly. Or, perhaps, they were hoping that she WOULD try to use it, so that they'd have an excuse to gang up on her and beat the crap out of her.
458
« on: July 09, 2003, 11:23:00 pm »
Hehe. *puts on the thinking face* Phantom Tribe, hmm? That actually sounds like a really great idea. Yeah, it does at that, doesn't it? Since I'm steering the Phantom Tribe right now, maybe I'll look into doing something like that... Hopefully, I'll be able to get Itamar involved in the effort, as well. Do you have any ideas on how we should do this?
459
« on: July 09, 2003, 08:24:41 am »
 Wow, Roshtaria has become quite the military state in the past fifty years, hasn't it? Sadistic dungeon keepers, and now over zealous city guards... I guess a cold war will do that. It's all good.
460
« on: July 09, 2003, 08:19:25 am »
Am I detecting a one-track mind, Kiddo? I have to agree that black-haired Shayla looks the best of the choices... As for Ifurita, the black looks okay, but I think I prefer the blue-grey look in picture number 4.
461
« on: July 07, 2003, 03:46:00 pm »
*OOC* Just a short post, this time. Soon, I'll have Itamar ready to do his part as a villian.  *IC* Itamar laid upon his bed, hands clasped behind his head, and stared up into the darkness. His hosts had offered him a lamp to use to light the darkness, but he had declined, choosing instead to allow his eyes to adjust to the perpetual darkness. He doubted he would ever be able to see as clearly as the people of the Phantom Tribe, but as long as he was their guest it would be best to attempt to live as they did. His mind was whirling with the things that he had learned. His own people back home were well-used to oppression. They had been downtrodden for nearly all of their known history. While not all that time had been actively at war, it could not be denied that they had always been hated, and sometimes feared. Itamar imagined, for a moment, how the Hebrew people would have fared if they had possessed blue skin and magical powers, and physically shuddered. They would have been fortunate indeed to have been able to flee underground before the other peoples of the world cut them down like dogs. The injustice made Itamar's blood boil. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tapping against his door. "Come in," he invited. A figure entered the room, and Itamar was pleased to note that he was able to recognize her as Aereala. He smiled. "Hello, Aereala. What can I do for you." Aereala merely looked sad. "I'm afraid that we must leave, now." "Leave?" Itamar asked, standing. "Where are we going?" "The entire Tribe is moving to a new home," she answered. The boy was baffled. "A new home? But why?" "Well, to tell the truth, because of you," Aereala replied. Before he could protest she held up a hand. "Please, hear me out. The tool that brought you to our world is a weapon. The fact that you appeared in our home means that it is possible that our enemies now know where we live. The chance seems small, but we cannot afford the risk." She smiled reassuringly. "Trust me when I say that no one here blames you." "And so, once again your oppressors force you to run and hide." Aereala was pleased to hear the anger and frustration in Itamar's voice. "Yes," Aereala sighed sadly. "It is a burden we have become accustomed to. But it has kept us alive for all these centuries." "I..." Itamar began, unsure of just what he should say. "I... don't like it. Not at all." Aereala chuckled. "Good. We don't like it either. Now, come, let's go." Itamar stepped out of the chamber, and found that a long line of shadowy figures were shuffling sadly down the cooridor. His heart clenched at the sight of small children, elderly, and infirm all forced to endure the exodus. Exodus. Exile. These, too, were things that the Hebrew people had known. With a sour feeling in his gut, Itamar joined the line.
462
« on: July 01, 2003, 04:16:42 pm »
Oh. Okay. *rots away* I just have no way of escaping so therefore, can't. Oh well. (hurry up exe...please...) If you get tired of waiting, you could always have the Bugrom launch a daring rescue. Your character is their friend, right?
463
« on: June 30, 2003, 04:48:01 pm »
The leader of the Phantom Tribe frowned. This latest development had taken an unusual turn. Still, he respected Aereala's judgement in this issue; by obtaining the newcomer's trust and friendship, the benefits could be much greater in the long run than using him as a lab animal would. "Please, show him in," he commanded. His personal guards bowed obediently, and opened the door.
Itamar peered into the chamber before him. It was not nearly as dim as most of the other chambers; in fact, the light was bright enough to be almost painful, given that his eyes had become used to the constant darkness.
"Welcome, Itamar Lowe," a baritone voice uttered. "Please, come in. We have much to talk about."
Itamar hesitated, but Aereala urged him forward, her arm linked comfortingly with his. The walls and ceiling were composed of rough-hewn stone. There were a few rugs here and there on the stone floor, but otherwise the room was featureless. At its far end, a man sat upon a large chair, not quite a throne, but clearly serving the same purpose. The man looked to be in his late-forties to mid-fifties, dressed in blue, grey, and white robes, and possessed a head of brown hair, just starting to grey around the edges. He was lean and muscular. Most striking, though, were his golden eyes, angular and very intense in their gaze.
"Um... Hello," Itamar offered lamely.
The man nodded in acknowledgement. "My name is Nahato. I am the ruler of the Phantom Tribe. Though your arrival here can hardly be said to have been expected, we welcome you within our home."
"It... was not my intention to intrude," Itamar said haltingly.
"I understand. And I apologize for the hostility we initially showed you. We are a people at war, and we have been at war for our entire history upon this world."
"At war?" Itamar asked.
Nahato nodded. "That is correct. But to understand, you must know who we are, and know our history. Please, do not be alarmed at what we intend to show you. Aereala? To my side, please."
Itamar felt his companion pull away from him, and she walked forward to stand beside Nahato. Itamar realized with surprise that this was the first good look he'd gotten of her; previously, it had been much too dark to make out any details. Aereala was just as beautiful as her voice implied, with creamy, pale skin, long, black hair, and flashing green eyes. She smiled at him reassuringly, and he found his face heating once more.
Then, Nahato gestured, and the two of them... changed. The change was not drastic, but it was startling, to say the least. Pale, white skin abruptly deepened to a deep shade of blue, Nahato's a slightly lighter shade than Aereala's. Aereala additionally possessed a slash-like wedge of red on each side of her face, the point of each under each eye, and stretching around her cheeks to disappear into her hair. Whether these red marks were some kind of strange natural pigmentation, or just paint of some kind, Itamar was in no position to guess. He was alarmed enough by the change in skin color. "Are you... demons?" he asked, stepping back in shock. He was somewhat disturbed to find that the doors had be shut behind him.
Nahato was clearly disappointed by Itamar's question, and Aereala looked sadly to the side. "No," Nahato answered gravely. "But you are not the first to draw such a comparison. We are the Phantom Tribe, intelligent beings much like yourself. Unfortunately, we have long been shunned by the others of this world, both for the color of our skin, and for our unique talents."
"Unique talents?" Itamar repeated. He was starting to feel foolish, constantly repeating everything he was told. But this was all so alien... At least he'd managed to calm himself from the initial shock of his companions' transformation.
"We of the Phantom Tribe have the ability to fool the senses. We can make objects appear and disappear at will, and change and warp what is seen into something else. None of it is real. It is all illusion. Observe:" Nahato lifted a hand, and a globe of light appeared above it. Within the globe, a small seedling appeared, sprouted into a sapling, then a tree. The tree flowered, and the flowers produced fruit, one of which dropped from the branches to roll to the ground at Itamar's feet. He cautiously picked it up. It felt solid and heavy in his hand. "You may taste it, if you choose, but I do not expect this of you. If you were, you would find that it tastes as sweet as any real fruit. But it is not real." Nahato snapped his fingers, and the tree and fruit vanished as if they never were.
"Remarkable," Itamar breathed, a little frightened by the event but more impressed than anything.
"Clearly, such an ability could be used for ill ends," Nahato said. "But we were never even given a chance to prove our honest intentions. Less than three generations after our people were banished to this world, they were driven deep underground by its natives. They feared and resented our power; every disaster, every disease, every smallest slight was blamed upon us. We did not always live underground, in the darkness. It is our sanctuary, and our prison."
"Wait - banished to this world? What do you mean?" Itamar asked, confused.
Nahato's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Surely you realize that this is not the world you call home? Tell me - what was the name you gave for the world you come from."
"...Earth?" Itamar offered lamely.
"Earth..." Nahato repeated, as though tasting the world. "Of course. Itamar Lowe, this world is not Earth. It is El-Hazard, a strange, alien world unlike anything you have ever known. Like our people, you have been dragged unwilling from your home. It saddens me to say, you will likely never see it again."
Itamar said nothing, conflicted. His home had brought him nothing but pain and fear in recent years. Even so, the thought of having been taken from everything he ever knew was a difficult one. Not to mention the prospect of never seeing his friends or family again. And what of the Holy Land? If this was a new world, was it forever beyond his reach? "It is... a difficult idea to grasp," Itamar said slowly.
"I do understand," Nahato said soothingly. "We will do what we can to help you adjust. You should know, though, that you are likely to be just as outcast as we ourselves. If merely your association with our people was not enough, your own special abilities will make you subject to the fear and hatred of the natives of this world."
"MY special abilities?" Itamar asked sharply.
"While their actions were regrettable, you were not harmed by the guards that assaulted you, were you?" Itamar shook his head. "Yet, those guards were trained soldiers. They were not holding back for your benefit. Somehow, their blows did not affect you. How do you explain this?"
Itamar just stared blankly, not saying anything.
"I believe that you have become... durable, in a way, making you difficult, if not impossible to harm. It is not surprising that you may have gained such an ability. Others like yourself have visited this world from time to time, and they, too, have gained strange and unpredictable abilities." Nahato's eyes narrowed and looked off to the side as he said this, as though he were recalling an unpleasant memory.
"Then I can't be hurt?" Itamar asked in disbelief. He stepped over next to the wall, and struck it with his fist, lightly at first, but then with more force. While he could feel the hardness of the wall, and the pressure upon his skin, he felt no pain. Examining his knuckles revealed that they were whole, and the skin unblemished.
"I do not know. Perhaps there is some force capable of harming you. There is no way of knowing without experimentation - and we would certainly do nothing of the sort without your consent. You are certainly far tougher than any of my people, however, and likely tougher than you yourself have ever been before, am I correct?"
"It would seem so," Itamar asked, looking at his hands as though they were alien objects.
Nahato spoke again. "I feel that we have talked enough, for the time being. You've likely had a tiring day, and quarters have been prepared for your stay. Aereala will show you the way. Please, feel free to ask her any questions that you might have. You are free to stay with us as long as you like, and you may leave at any time. Please, wait outside a moment. There are matters that I wish to discuss with Aereala privately."
Itamar nodded, and walked toward the door. As though signalled somehow, the guards outside opened the door at his approach and allowed him through.
Once Itamar was out of sight, Nahato spoke to Aereala. "It would seem that your judgement was correct, Aereala. I appears to be quite receptive to our needs."
"I live only to serve the Tribe, my lord," Aereala bowed modestly.
"Indeed," Nahato grinned. "But let it not be said that I am blind to the acchievements of our people. You will be well rewarded, should this endevour bear fruit." Nahato stared off into the distance, and tapped his lip with one finger. "He appears to have been quite taken with you, as well - at least, before you revealed your true colors."
"It is so, my lord."
"I wish for you to exploit this, if you can. If he is still receptive to you, earn his friendship. Win his love, if you can. This would help to further bind him to the tribe."
"As you command, my lord."
"There are many things that could still go wrong at this juncture. If he decides to leave our embrace we will have no alternative but to retain him by force. I believe that he is more useful to us as a cooperative ally. However, we must make certain that he does not fall into the hands of the Alliance OR the Bugrom."
Nahato smiled in a friendly fashion. "But, hopefully, it will not come to that. Go, guide him, and answer any questions he desires. Use discretion, of course. He is not to know of the more... shady dealings of the Phantom Tribe in the past. Particularly the actions of my predecessor. Do you understand?"
"I do, my lord, and I obey." Aereala bowed again, and then departed.
Alone, now, Nahato leaned back in his chair and folded his fingers. "What a very... interesting development this is. I believe that there is going to be much to do in the near future..."
464
« on: June 25, 2003, 04:26:46 pm »
Itamar blinked some more, as vague shadows began to come into focus. The cave, it seemed, wasn't completely lightless, though the lighting was very, very dim.
FFFFT!
Itamar jerked at the strange sound, and then again at the sensation of some object striking his shoulder. He felt the affected area with one hand, but whatever it was had apparently fallen away. Had someone just thrown something at him? "Hello!" he tried. "Is anyone there?" Silence was his only response.
FFFFT!
Another object bounced off of him, this time off of his stomach.
FFFFT!
A third object, this time striking his neck. Itamar was getting irritated. "What's going on here?" he demanded.
Aereala was a member of the Hunter caste, and was descended from an ancient line of skilled killers. She and her ilk were trained in the skills necessary to track and kill animals for food for their people, as well as the skills needed to assassinate enemies of the Tribe. It was rare that a Hunter was asked to capture an individual alive, but Aereala considered it no less a matter of pride to carry out this task like any other.
Something was wrong, though. The poisoned quarrels she was using to attempt to tranquilize the boy she had been ordered to capture had no effect. Even more, her keen eyes could clearly see the bolts riccocheting away, not even piercing the flesh. She knew that the points of her quarrels were keen. What could be stopping them?
No self-respecting Hunter would let the impossible phase them for long, however. Silently, she lifted a hand in a signal to her companions. The companions in question, two burly Tribesmen from the Warrior caste immediately rushed into the cavern shouting a warcry, pikes at the ready.
Itamar had just regained his footing, when he was knocked off it once again by a wooden pole striking his face with extreme force. Strangely, neither the pole nor the resulting fall to the ground felt at all painful. On the ground now, his assailants continued to pound at him with their weapons, and kick at him. All quite painlessly; they might as well have been striking him with pillows.
This did not mean that he appreciated the treatment. "Please, just leave me alone!" he begged.
"STOP THIS AT ONCE!" a feminine voice commanded. Instantly, the two attackers backed away, and stood at attention, pikes at the ready.
A silhouette stepped into view. While the lighting was too dim for Itamar to make out any features, he could definitely tell that it was a woman before him. The woman addressed him in a voice laced with concern. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"I... I am fine," Itamar admitted, a little surprised. He would have expected to be at least a little sore after his recent ordeal, but he could not feel even the beginnings of a bruise. What was going on?
The woman sounded very relieved. "Then I arrived in time. I am so very sorry for the behavior of my companions. Our people have many enemies, and when they found you in our home..." She paused, and then sounding somewhat guilty, "I'm afraid that they must have assumed that you were a spy. Please, will you forgive them for their transgression?"
"I suppose," Itamar responded doubtfully. It was a little awkward to so easily forgive people who had just attempted to beat him to death. But if it was all just some kind of misunderstanding... The woman before him sounded very kind, and Itamar found himself wanting to believe her. "Please, can you tell me... Just who are you? And where am I? I am so very confused..."
The woman laughed lightly. It was a very pretty sound, and Itamar found himself blushing slightly. "I have no doubt that you are confused, and have many questions. But all things in their time. My name is Aereala. As for where you are... Would it surprise you to know that you are in another world?"
"Another world...?" Itamar repeated, as though tasting the words. What could she mean?
"Come. I will take you to our leader. He should be able to explain better than I could. Please, take my hand, and I will guide you. Many of the tunnels of our home are quite dark, and your eyes may not be strong enough to easily find your way."
Itamar nodded, and hesitantly took the woman's hand. It felt warm and soft in his grip, and he found his blush once again returning.
In the darkness, Aereala smiled to herself. There were many ways to ensnare prey, and not all of them were violent ones. While it was not precisely what her master had commanded, she had the strong suspicion that it would be of much greater benefit to the Tribe in the long run for them to tame this newcomer though kindness, rather than force.
465
« on: June 25, 2003, 08:48:24 am »
You know, the REAL problem with Windows XP is that it's just about impossible for me to read "XP" without seeing the emoticon instead.
Bleah!
XP
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