mongoose
Apprentice
Veni, vidi, vici!!!
Posts: 71
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Post by mongoose on Dec 23, 2004 23:51:24 GMT -1
There is not just one universe there are acually many sitting side by side where they constantly split because one little thing can change and the whole world changes. Like Hitler might have won the war in one world, J.F.K. might not have been killed in another and Remus might not have defeated Romulus in one, but the possibilities are endless. The road is endless too. This is more or less a quotation from Michael Crichton's Timeline. It's a good book and it explains travelling to different universes i.e. to Bellezza
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Post by Duchessa on Dec 24, 2004 10:23:20 GMT -1
hey mongoose, wked start of fanfic but Stravaganza fanfic goes on the stravaganza fanfic board in Padavia. This board is 4 other fanfic aside from stravagazna. Gr8 start though! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
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mongoose
Apprentice
Veni, vidi, vici!!!
Posts: 71
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Post by mongoose on Dec 31, 2004 13:19:53 GMT -1
this isn't fanfic, but it's my own story. It's kind of long, but please comment. (I'm not done yet.)
Chapter One Storm clouds loomed above Gwendolyn as she peddled as fast as she could, her fair hair waving behind her like a pennant. As she turned the corner to her street there was a bright flash of light and rain started to splatter all around her, like millions of tiny tear drops. She pulled into her driveway and ran to her house. She glanced in the mirror on her way to the fridge and saw that her face was as red as an apple. When she opened up the refrigerator door the power went out and another bolt of lighting lit up the sky. Gwendolyn grabbed a peach and ran to her room. She flopped onto her feather-down comforter and laid her head on her pillow, which was as white and as soft as snow. She began to eat her peach while she reached over her mahogany dresser, reached past her lipstick and other make-up, past her cell phone and past the stuffed animal badger and grabbed the flashlight she always kept for when she read deep into the night. The flashlight cast eerie shadows around her room and lightning allowed her to see everything for one brief moment. She saw her pink walls and her black computer screen. She saw her shelves full of the books she had read and she saw her stuffed badger, picked it up and held it close to her for comfort. Gwendolyn turned and looked out the window. She looked across her yard and saw a car speed down her road and splash water on her neighbor’s mailbox, which was decorated with flowers and butterflies with a blue sky in the background. She spied a figure, hurrying along the sidewalk with the hood of its navy blue sweatshirt pulled over its head. The figure quickened its pace as another flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Gwendolyn saw a car race down the street and when she looked back, the figure was gone. The rain continued its steady rhythm as Gwendolyn wondered where the person had gone and who it was. She lay in her bed, her peach core discarded on the fuzzy blue carpet and she fell asleep. When Gwendolyn woke up, she looked out her window and saw a patch of blue skies and heard birds singing again. She stretched and saw that she slept through the night with her clothes on. She changed her clothes, which were still damp from the night before and went downstairs to breakfast. It was 7:35a.m. and both of her parents had already gone to work, so she poured herself a bowl of her favorite cereal and picked up her latest book, Lady Eloise. Lady Eloise is the third book in a series of fantasy novels about a princess who goes through many trials and tribulations. She is rescued from a dragon in the first book, she is captured by evil goblins in the second book and in what she has read of the third book, a heroic knight is coming to save her. She finished up her breakfast, brushed her teeth and grabbed her book bag. As she was walking to the bus stop she looked into the woods and saw a beautiful white stallion, just like the one the knight in her story was riding. She was dazzled for a moment and then continued to walk to her bus. As the bus came to a halt and she took her seat in the middle of the bus she thought about her experience with the horse. She didn’t know that there were wild horses in the woods near her yard. She pondered the thought until her bus stopped in front of her school. As Gwendolyn hopped off the bus she thought she saw the same figure as the one last night in the rain. She wondered where it went the night before as she went to her homeroom class. Gwendolyn loved everything about school. She loved her friends, her teachers and her classes. Her favorite subject was social studies with Mr. Hollister. It was impossible not to like Mr. Hollister. He had chestnut brown hair that was cut short, he was medium height and he had gigantic biceps. He was always joking around in class but marvelously their class was way ahead of the other social studies classes. Gwendolyn heard the bell ring to signal the start of school and she walked to English class ready to discuss whatever grammar her teacher was going to throw at them today. As the day went on Gwendolyn had a growing feeling that something was wrong. She didn’t know what was bothering her. The apprehension continued until consumer science where it stayed for a little while then vanished altogether. “Today we’ll be cooking Angel Food Cake. It will take the whole class and each person is going to bake their own cake,” the teacher chirped. Gwendolyn loved baking and angel food cake was her second favorite cake, second only to her grandmother’s devil’s food cake. She could bake an angel food cake with one arm tied behind her back. She picked up her book and began to read. Several minutes after she started, she felt someone’s eyes on her and she looked up to see a boy looking at her and she quickly glanced back down at her book and continued to read until the teacher passed out the recipes and told them to start baking. Gwendolyn mixed the ingredients quickly, put the cake mix into the oven and began to wait. She looked over at the boy and he was reading a book of his own. He looked up and saw her but Gwendolyn did not look away. The boy started to get up and walk over to her and introduced himself as Brock. He then went on to talk about their books until the timer on his oven went off and he pulled a lump of black stuff out of it. A moment later Gwendolyn’s timer went off and she pulled out a golden brown angel food cake. “Well done,” her teacher said. Her teacher took up a knife, cut the cake and tasted it. She chewed and swallowed. After a few moments the teacher gave her more praise and then went over to Brock as the bell rang to end consumer science. Gwendolyn hurried to social studies, she wanted to be the first one there today. As she walked in the rest of the class was leaving. She turned and looked on the blackboard it read: “There will be no class today but Gwendolyn and Brock, meet me in my office during this time.” Gwendolyn went into Mr. Hollister’s office and waited. Several minutes later Brock walked in. ***
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mongoose
Apprentice
Veni, vidi, vici!!!
Posts: 71
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Post by mongoose on Dec 31, 2004 13:20:22 GMT -1
(still my story) Brock knew he had to hurry if he was going to beat the storm. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head as he started to jog towards his house. He decided that he would take the shortcut to his house today and observed his surrounding with interest. He was on a street with mostly single floored houses, almost all were painted white, but one stood out against the dark sky and the drab houses around it. It was painted bright orange and had blood red shutters, but the most intriguing thing about the house was that it had blue shingles on its roof. Suddenly a white horse came out of the woods from his right and stopped right in front of him. The rain began to fall, slowly at first and then a deluge, but the horse remained in front of him, staring at him with inquisitive eyes. Brock wondered what the horse was trying to tell him and he and the horse stared at each other for a while until a car, as black as the night started to speed towards him. He and the horse both went into the woods and followed a path there. The path wound through the woods for about a quarter of a mile and ended at another street. Brock came out of the path and turned to look for the horse, but it no longer followed him, it stayed at the entrance to the forest and slowly trotted back into it. Brock the turned and crossed his neighbor’s lawn into his own, and entered his home. Brock walked straight into his room and pushed the play on his clock radio, which then began to play Bach Toccata in D. He went to his closet, took off his wet sweatshirt, put it on a hanger and hung it up with the rest of his clothes. As he went to his bed he stopped in front of his dresser with all of his wrestling trophies and CD’s he looked into the mirror and admired his short black hair, his muscular biceps and his six foot two 14 year old frame. After he had finished admiring himself he went to his electric guitar and tried to turn on the amp. The power had gone out so he switched its power source to battery and he began to play his own works until he had to eat dinner and go to bed. The chirping of birds awakened Brock. He tumbled out of bed and dressed himself in white pants and a black shirt. He pulled on his socks as he started down the hall towards the stairs. He went to the toaster and put in two pieces of bread, on his way to the kitchen table to wait for the toast to be toasted, he saw that it was 7:50a.m. He grabbed the toast out of the toaster, put on a sweatshirt and started to hustle towards the door. About halfway to the door he realized that he didn’t have his backpack. He grabbed his backpack and began to sprint to the bus. He reached the bus just in time and hopped on and sat in his usual spot, the very back of the bus. He ate his toast on the bus and finished a few minutes before he got to school. As the bus came to a stop, Brock gathered his belongings and walked to the front of the bus. As he was exiting, he thought he saw a flash of white in the forest behind the school, but he dismissed it as his imagination. Brock disliked everything about school except for lunch and his Social Studies teacher, Mr. Hollister. Social Studies was his last class that day and he would have to go through about five hours of English, Science, Math and some electives. As he drudged to English, the first class of that day he felt like he was being watched, but when he turned around he only saw other eight graders on their way to class. Mrs. Kibbler was up at the front of the class talking to a girl about grammar and his friends at the back of the classroom beckoned for him to sit down and talk, throw spitballs and all of the other annoying things they did before class. The bell rang to signal the start of the first period and the class quieted down. Mrs. Kibbler stood at the front of the room and addressed the class, “Class, today we will learn about participial phrases. Does anyone know what a participal is?”<br> Becky McCollins, one of the smartest girls in the school raised her hand, “It is a verbal that acts as an adjective.”<br> “Very good Becky,” Mrs. Kibbler remarked, “In the sentence ‘Galloping at full speed, the white stallion whinnied with joy.’ Bartholomew, what is the participial phrase?”<br> And the day dragged on and on. In science his class dissected a frog and he got a little queasy. In math, his teacher was teaching the class how to solve quadratic equations, which he did not understand at all. He knew it had to do something with factoring but he didn’t know how to factor. At last the bell rang for lunch and Brock was able to replace participial phrases, factoring and frog guts with friends and most importantly, food, but when the bell rang again to go to consumer science, Brock sunk back into his sour mood. “Today we’ll be cooking Angel Food Cake. It will take the whole class and each person is going to bake their own cake,” the teacher chirped. Brock was wondering how he ever got stuck with consumer science for one of his electives. He hated to bake and he wasn’t good at it. He could cook macaroni and cheese of spaghetti but baking was beyond him. As the teacher passed out the recipes, Brock noticed a girl in the corner of the room. She looked tough but she had beautiful blond hair and blue eyes. He noticed that she was engrossed in a book. As he tried to get a closer look she looked up and Brock averted his eyes but he knew that she had seen him. The rest of the class was spent trying to mix eggs, flour, sugar, vanilla and all sorts of other ingredients and once they were mixed, baking it. He set the timer for thirty minutes and grabbed his book. It was about this guy, who hunted vampires but he was half-vampire himself. As he finished a chapter he looked up to see the girl watching him. She didn’t look away so he walked over and sat down next to her. “Hi, my name’s Brock,” Brock muttered. “I’m Gwendolyn. What book are you reading?” she inquired. “I’m reading the Chronicles of Van Ingersol, it’s about some guy, who-“<br> “I know what it’s about I’ve read the series myself. I personally didn’t like it.”<br> “Well then what book are you reading?”<br> “Lady Eloise.”<br> “I’ve never heard of it. Is it any good?”<br> “Yes, it’s about a princess who was captured by goblins in the book before it and now a handsome prince is coming to save her, right now the prince is walking into a trap set up by the goblins. It’s a very primitive trap and it won’t catch him because there are still a hundred pages in the book and what would a fantasy be like without the knight in shining armor?”<br> “I don’t know, I never liked fantasy novels, too much love and loyalty. I prefer books with adventure, and backstabbing.”<br> Just as Gwendolyn was about to answer her timer went off and she went to her oven, looked in, and opened the door. “This looks done,” Gwendolyn said to herself as she put a strand of spaghetti into the cake. When she pulled it out it was clean. “Yup definitely done,” she said to herself again. “How did you learn to bake like that?” Brock asked Gwendolyn. “My grandmother taught me how to bake many things from scratch. Her chocolate cakes tasted like heaven.”<br> When Brock looked back at his oven he saw smoke starting to come out of the sides. He ran to it and opened it up. Inside he saw a black lump that he guessed what was supposed to his angel food cake. Gwendolyn sblack personed. “What are you laughing at?” spat Brock. “I’m sorry, its just, I’ve never seen anyone burn anything.” Gwendolyn said. “It’s ok-“<br> “Brock is your angel food cake done yet?” his teacher asked. “Well, um, it kind of got a little over done.” Brock answered. “Where is it now Brock?”<br> “It’s that little black thing on the table.”<br> “Do you mean to tell me that that lump of charcoal is your cake?” His teacher asked as the bell rang. “Yes, I do indeed,” was Brock’s response as he bolted out the door. Brock knew that he was going to fail consumer science. He was thinking about all the baking projects he had miserably failed. There was the apple pie, where the apples caught on fire, there were the biscuits where he slipped on an egg that someone had dropped and filled the whole room with flower and then there was today another burnt baked good. He was relieved that he had social studies however and he looked forward to getting home. As he walked into the social studies room, he was surprised that no one was in there. Then he looked at the board and realized why. “There will be no class today but Gwendolyn and Brock, meet me in my office during this time. ”<br> Brock wondered why he was getting called into Mr. H’s office. Mr. H never singled anyone out like this. As he walked into Mr. H’s he saw Gwendolyn and mouthed a greeting. He looked for Mr. H but he wasn’t in the room.
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mongoose
Apprentice
Veni, vidi, vici!!!
Posts: 71
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Post by mongoose on Dec 31, 2004 13:20:58 GMT -1
(still goin') Chapter Two “What do you think this is about,” Brock asked Gwendolyn. “I’ve got no clue. I hope that we’re not in trouble because I haven’t gotten a detention all year and it would really make my parents angry.” Gwendolyn replied. “Your parents would get angry if you got just one detention? My English teacher gives me about one a week for something stupid like, forgetting my pencil.”<br> Mr. Hollister ran into the room. “G-g-gw-gwendolyn, Brock, f-f-follow me,” he stuttered which was unlike Mr. Hollister. Mr. Hollister walked briskly down the empty hallway. All of the students were in class and it felt eerie to be walking down the hallway. Mr. Hollister turned into the teacher’s lounge and motioned for them to come in. The teacher’s lounge had a plush carpet and armchairs that were made of red velvet. On the walls there were pictures of Charles I, Henry VIII and other kings of England. Mr. Hollister grabbed them by their arms and opened a door in the wall. Brock had been looking at that spot on the wall not a moment earlier and he had seen neither a doorknob nor anything that might be a door, but Mr. Hollister ushered them inside and they entered a long dark hallway. It was pitch black for a moment until Brock heard a sizzle and saw a torch blaze. Mr. Hollister grabbed the torch and lit two others. “Gwendolyn, Brock, take a torch. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”<br> As they walked down the narrow passage way something scurried across Brock’s feet and a second later Gwendolyn let out a squeak. “It was probably just a rat,” Mr. Hollister said, “We must keep moving.”<br> After what seemed like miles later Brock spotted a light at the end of the tunnel and they emerged into a room that looked like the teacher’s lounge. It had the same plush carpet; the same armchairs and it had a fireplace too. Mr. Hollister walked to the fireplace and lit the fire. Since there was no need for the torches Brock and Gwendolyn placed them in the metal holders on the stonewall. Mr. Hollister left and closed the door behind him. Brock went over and tried to open up the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “He’s locked us in here,” Brock exclaimed. “Why would Mr. H lock us in here?” pondered Gwendolyn. “This is a cool room though, we should just relax until he comes back.”<br> “Brock, look at the pictures on the wall.”<br> The pictures depicted the four seasons. In the summer the sky was blue and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. There was a forest on the left of the canvas and there was a mountain on the right of it. Above the mountain the sky was a dark gray and what looked like bats were flying above a castle. Near the forest centaurs were brandishing spears and shields. There were battle tents being taken down and cooking fires being put out. Several of the centaurs were shoving the last bit of their breakfast into their mouths. There was an open field of poppies between the centaurs and the mountains and it looked as if the centaurs were going to cross the field. In autumn the centaurs were camped at the base of the mountain. The dense foliage around them was colored red and gold. They were building a fort and preparing for the hard winter ahead of them. Up on the mountain the castle had changed a bit. It was better fortified and snow had begun to fall. Despite the snow, Brock and Gwendolyn could still see the black dots in the sky. As they turned Brock noticed that the stone slightly changed color. He knew that it was where they had entered, but Gwendolyn was completely oblivious. They walked onto the winter picture where the centaur fort was complete. Some of the centaurs were gathered around cooking fires or up on the walls. There was a large tent with colorful pennants blowing in the breeze. Up no the mountain the black dots could no longer be seen and there was at least seven feet of snow on the ground. The castle was very fortified and the sky was darker than ever. They moved around the room to the picture of summer and they saw that the centaurs were charging the castle while their siege engines were hurling what looked like flaming rocks at the castle’s walls and grounds. When Brock and Gwendolyn looked closer they saw a platoon of vampires loosening their bowstrings at the charging centaurs. Dead centaurs littered the ground but there were tens of thousands streaming through a hole in the wall probably caused by one of the trebuchet’s flaming rock. Brock noticed that thousands of vampires were battling the centaurs with pikes and the centaurs were fighting back with broadswords.
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Post by Duchessa on Dec 31, 2004 18:59:06 GMT -1
oh kwl, v gd start. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
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Post by Mary on Jan 1, 2005 15:50:14 GMT -1
The Talian equivalent of Latin is called Talic. This is mentioned briefly in City of Flowers. The differences between Talian and Italian are so slight as to be almost like regional variants, so I don't think it would have had any great effect on the Romance languages, though they could be called the Remance languages, it's true. Thank you for thinking about it.
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mongoose
Apprentice
Veni, vidi, vici!!!
Posts: 71
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Post by mongoose on Jan 19, 2005 21:36:35 GMT -1
*bump* trying to speed things up
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Post by fantasyfreak on Mar 7, 2005 4:28:09 GMT -1
;Dhi
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Post by Duchessa on Mar 8, 2005 18:20:33 GMT -1
lol! hi!! You're new around here! Why not make an intro in visitors or newbie stuff? xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
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Post by GigliaPrincess on May 6, 2005 11:52:31 GMT -1
[glow=red,2,300][shadow=red,left,300][/shadow][/glow]
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Neliana
Magician
Just the girl-next-door
Posts: 378
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Post by Neliana on May 6, 2005 17:21:17 GMT -1
Eh...and the point of that post was?
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Post by Alex on May 6, 2005 20:04:51 GMT -1
lol..true....do u have anything to say gigliaprincess or do u just like to post ramdom things ;D?
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Post by Alex on May 6, 2005 20:18:38 GMT -1
lol..true....do u have anything to say gigliaprincess or do u just like to post ramdom things ;D?
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Post by Rachel on May 8, 2005 13:01:01 GMT -1
i dont think shes actually said anything relating to the boards
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Post by Duchessa on May 8, 2005 13:02:05 GMT -1
i think she's one of tru's m8s....nuff sed... xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo
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Post by TruBellezzan on May 9, 2005 11:44:56 GMT -1
well thank u! hey PrincessOfFishes is nice enough isn't she? and its only the one of my "mates" that posts randomn stuff!!!! Sorry, had to get all defensive then. its embarassing...
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Post by Alex on May 9, 2005 20:04:44 GMT -1
lol..ok..my friends are weird too sometimes ;D and PrincessOfFishes is cool
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Post by TruBellezzan on May 10, 2005 11:42:04 GMT -1
she's really happy u sed that now... ;D
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Post by Princess of Fishes on May 10, 2005 11:48:34 GMT -1
yea Thanks
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