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I'll get the bracket assigned and set up on Monday!

I think near the Nechsiv would make sense, since that puts the place in Chaett and near a baronial seat.

Or we could hypothecically drop a river through Baroness Juliette's territory.

Or ... heck if I know, I forgot to think about geography.

- Tomash

I just got back into the works of Tolkien via Blind Guardian, and this hit the spot.

And I am ready to lose horribly try my hardest!

So, here is my team:

Gardevoir
Gallade
Metagross
Delphox
Swoobat
Slowking
Malamar

I swear I know what I'm doing and this team is actually carefully researched and considered and totally not put together at the last minute because I'm both busy and easily distracted.

The 'snapshot' spell was moving along quite speedily - almost too speedily, Marisa thought. She wanted her parents to get this.

"Take a look around," Marisa urged them, thought at them, for her mouth was otherwise occupied speaking the spell. And so they did.

All around them, it seemed as if the world stopped needing walls, and so they had stopped existing. The three of them could perceive where everything was - her brother, there by the entrance to the living room, the viewing window into the kitchen on the other side of the room - through that the windows in the kitchen, and through those, outside. Furthermore, they could 'see' every branch of the trees outside, as if they were frozen in place. The swings out there could also be seen - they weren't perfectly centered, as if a breeze had come in just then to nudge them. Around them, because this was outside, they - Marisa and her parents - could sense the wildlife.

Birds, bugs. A few squirrels, their actions brought to a rare moment of stillness. But beyond them were their neighbors houses, their cars and yards and children and pets and-

"This is what wizards protect, mom, dad. But we can't protect what we don't know about, what we can't connect to. This is Life, and this is what I serve."

Marisa reached the end of the spell, enunciating the syllables of the Wizards' Knot precisely, and the world snapped back into motion - and their perception of it, back to their living room.

Her Dad - Mike - looked at her again, attempting to get his nerves back. "But do you need this power?"

Normally, Marisa suspected, this would be when one or both of her parents would say she couldn't do it - or the Lone Power would speak through them, trying to get her to give up her wizardry willingly.

"If I couldn't be any good as a wizard, it wouldn't have been offered, Dad." She said with absolute certainty.

"And the... outburst, this afternoon?" her Mom - Debbie - added.

"Being a wizard doesn't make me any less human, Mom! It just means I have more ways to figure things out, resources I never would have had otherwise, even with the problems."

They looked defeated, now - or maybe they were still just windswept from the wizardry; she couldn't blame them.

"So, I'm okay with having time out. But when Those who gave me wizardry say I'm needed somewhere, I'm needed there. To help."

"And you'll tell us?" Mom, again - possibly trying to keep Dad from starting a new argument.

"Yes, mom, I'll try. If I can't do it right away I'll call, or email, or something."

And right then, the doorbell rang; Marisa jumped. Mike and Debbie looked at each other.

"Who is that?"

"We, uh, called your speech therapist, in case she could tell us about something we'd missed. She insisted on coming over," her Dad explained - and did Mike actually look sheepish, now? Color Marisa surprised.

"Mrs. Riley? Why?" But she had a feeling she knew. With their mother's approval, Sam (her brother) opened the door - and before anyone could say anything, Mrs. Riley called,

/Dai Stiho, Marisa!/

((AN: Yes, I went cliffhanger on you. :V
As to the tape - yes, I really am like that. XD Leave no mess, if possible! Also, the family's Jewish - just be glad she's more-or-less concretely proved their beliefs instead of wholesale destroying them! That, and Marisa's the younger child. And since becoming a wizard helped Marisa throw fewer temper tantrums, Mike and Debbie aren't as mad as they would have been if this were a regular thing for Marisa - and therefore they'd expect her to have learned 'not' to get upset like she did. :V))

I'm revamping a Semi-Fic Blip to make this agent, and I'd forgotten that I'd given her the ability to mess with people's dreams, so I figured it would be more fitting and less severe to have her just make her partner dream they're dying horribly, which would be a lesser offense and more of just an "abuse of powers" thing. That fits the consequences a lot better.

Anyway, I don't know which fics to click on on hS's page, can you guide me on that?

-Twistey

...some of you may remember how I visited-then-realized-I'd-joined the Board thinking you were a ruthless group of critics I could "sic on" a badficcer friend when she didn't listen to anything I said about her work. The FAQ: For Other People did sort of give me that impression.

While I did sort of take a little immature happiness at the brutal snark of the original FAQ: For Other People (as I myself sometimes need to be restrained on my critiques of things), I do believe that this is definitely going to have better effects on our relations with outsiders and opponents, how people perceive us, our membership, and all that jazz.

As I've said... two times before? I like y'all, y'all force me to be mature. And I think it's a lot better that the FAQ matches that now.

-Twistey

So I came across this bit of rather crack-y theorizing about the current location of the Silmarils. It seemed like the sort of thing people here might like, so here it is.

I'll replace Azumarill with Klefki.

I think the line that most speaks to me here, oddly enough, is the comment about taping the tape to itself. It's just so distinctive, like a window into Marisa's personality.

I'm in two minds over her parents' acceptance of her story. On the one hand, it does feel very fast, despite the fact that 'that wasn't English but I understood it' must be a big pointer towards something Weird being up. But on the other hand... well, given the events so far, they're probably at least partly 'playing along' so as not to upset their daughter. That makes perfect sense to me, so yeah.

hS

And you were saying my story wasn't a classic Ordeal... ;) Talk about replacing the hero! Sounds just like It, though.

And variations of 'a wayward Instrumentality' have been bouncing around in my brain... more-or-less since 2015. Glad I got to put it someplace!

Thank you very much for your continued support (though if you sneak a reply onto the 'main storyline', so to speak, I can tag the next piece of the story onto that, and not just reply to myself. The email notifs I get help me pace myself. |D)!

Diancie
Gardevoir (Mega)
Azumarill
Primarina
Sylveon
Tapu Lele
Togekiss

We'll see how far it goes...

... about going all-in with the AI stuff. For some reason the phrase 'a wayward Instrumentality' really pleases me. ^_^ It says you're doing something very different with what started out looking like a very classic Ordeal.

I am very much enjoying this story (including this side-branch, which I agree doesn't quite fit with the flow/style of the story proper), and am very hopeful that you manage to finish it. :)

hS

PS: The plural of 'spectrum' is 'spectra', though. Sorry, scientist, can't help myself.

Jacob tried to take a step to the side, but cool fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. "My lord," Lise said, "we cannot."

"Cannot?" King Arthur's brow furrowed. "Child, this monster came from the Dark. You who serve the Light by the High Magic should be glad to see its end."

Jacob tried to pull free, but Lise had a firm grip. Frowning, he did his best to avoid eye contact with Arthur - King Arthur! In an effort to keep from freaking out, he set about identifying the route his family had taken to walk up to Llyn Cau the previous year.

"Dark though it is," Lise said, "it is still of Life." She shot Jacob a look, which he steadfastly ignored. The worn path he remembered wasn't visible - well, The Dark is Rising took place in the seventies or something, maybe they hadn't put it in yet - but he recognised a string of boulders, and the opening of a low valley.

"It serves death," Arthur told the girl in front of him. "It brings death. It has murdered oxen, farmers, even young maidens of the hills about Llyn Barfog."

The frown on Jacob's face deepened. The forest that covered the slopes of the mountain seemed distinctly closer than it should be, and… he glanced over his shoulder at the lake, and the slate-strewn slopes beyond. Everything seemed taller, crisper… older…

"But it has been driven from that lake," Lise said. "It was banished here by-"

"You, my lord," Jacob interrupted, then lowered his voice. "Arthur was the first person to banish the Afanc. I think we've been sent back in time."

"What?" Lise shook her head. "Way to drop a timeslide on a girl without warning. But I'm glad you're back with me." She straightened up, speaking for Arthur's ears again. "The creature can do no harm here," she said. "Why kill it?"

"Why?" Arthur sheathed his crystal blade, folding his arms across his chest. "For the same reason that I slew Aelle in the glory of Badon, or Rhitta the beard-taker on the highest peak of Yr Wyddfa - to put an end to them, and prevent their evil ever returning."

"But…" Jacob bit his lip, then stepped back in to Lise's side. "But we swore an Oath," he said quietly. "We swore to use our Art in Life's service, not that of the bringer of Death."

"No Art of yours is needed," King Arthur said, dropping his hand once more to the ornate hilt of his sword. "I will do the deed, and gladly; all you need do is step aside."

Lise gasped softly, but waved off Jacob's look and flipped open her Manual. Shaking his head, Jacob looked up at King Arthur again. The king's face seemed to glow slightly against the stormy sky behind him, suffused with wisdom, compassion, and the power of the High Magic - wizardry itself.

And why shouldn't I stand back? Jacob asked himself. After all, he hadn't wanted to get involved. It had been Lise who insisted on getting in Arthur's way, and now she was off reading a book, mumbling to herself as she searched for something. And the Afanc was evil - it had tried to (or would try to, or however the grammar of time travel went) attack Jane, and had terrorised the region in Arthur's time. It wasn't like Cadair Idris was in the middle of nowhere, either - anyone could wander up here, if they had a few hours to spare. It was still a danger.

And above all that, it was King Arthur asking, the King Arthur. Granted, on a scale of one to winding up in a Susan Cooper book, that wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to him today, but… how do you argue with the High King of Britain? Better to move away, let him do what was, after all, the only right and proper thing for someone from his own time.

But...

"'To these ends'," Jacob said softly, "'in the practice of my Art, I will ever put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so'." He straightened his shoulders and met Arthur's gaze firmly. "'Looking always towards the Heart of Time, where all our sundered times are one, and all our myriad worlds lie whole in That from Which they proceeded'. I am truly sorry, my lord, but… you cannot pass."

For the first time, a crack showed in the nobility of Arthur's face. "I can and I will," he said, thunder rumbling in his words, and the crystal sword Eirias rang as it left its sheath. "Stand aside, and you will come to no harm."

Jacob planted his feet amid the blooming heather and shook his head stubbornly. He doubted Arthur would kill them, but even if he just gently pushed them aside, it was the failure that would burn, his failing of the Afanc, of wizardry, of Lise…

And then suddenly Lise was there, closing her Manual with a sharp click. She looked up at Arthur, no fear in her eyes, though Jacob could feel her hand trembling where it gripped his wrist.

"I know you," she said quietly. She took a deep breath, and then spoke again, her voice high and clear in the mountain air: "Fairest and fallen, greetings - and defiance."

The world fell still. The heather ceased its rustling. The soft lapping of the water on the lakeshore faded away. The sky grew darker. The very mountains seemed to lean in, listening.

And Arthur laughed.

... than the gloriously psychedelic Dream of Rhonabwy, the youngest story in the Mabinogion. Here's a quote:

And Arthur sat upon the carpet, and Owain the son of Urien was standing before him. "Owain," said Arthur, "wilt thou play chess?"

"I will, Lord," said Owain. And the red youth brought the chess for Arthur and Owain; golden pieces and a board of silver. And they began to play.

And while they were thus, and when they were best amused with their game, behold they saw a white tent with a red canopy, and the figure of a jet-black serpent on the top of the tent, and red glaring venomous eyes in the head of the serpent, and a red flaming tongue. And there came a young page with yellow curling hair, and blue eyes, and a newly-springing beard, wearing a coat and a surcoat of yellow satin, and hose of thin greenish-yellow cloth upon his feet, and over his hose shoes of parti-coloured leather, fastened at the insteps with golden clasps. And he bore a heavy three-edged sword with a golden hilt, in a scabbard of black leather tipped with fine gold. And he came to the place where the Emperor and Owain were playing at chess.

And the youth saluted Owain. And Owain marvelled that the youth should salute him and should not have saluted the Emperor Arthur. And Arthur knew what was in Owain's thought. And he said to Owain, "Marvel not that the youth salutes thee now, for he saluted me erewhile; and it is unto thee that his errand is."

Then said the youth unto Owain, "Lord, is it with thy leave that the young pages and attendants of the Emperor harass and torment and worry thy Ravens? And if it be not with thy leave, cause the Emperor to forbid them."

"Lord," said Owain, "thou hearest what the youth says; if it seem good to thee, forbid them from my Ravens."

"Your move," said Arthur.

The entire thing is like that, with the ridiculous colours and eventually the massacre of Arthur's entire household by Owain's ravens (which, quite reasonably, causes Arthur to crush the golden chesspieces to dust). It seems to have been written for the sole purpose of irritating bards who tried to recite from memory alone.

And then, of course, there's the wonderful Culhwch and Olwen:

"I crave of thee then," said Culhwch to Arthur, "that thou obtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr; and this boon I likewise seek at the hands of thy warriors. I seek it from Kai, and Bedwyr, and Greidawl Galldonyd, and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl, and Greid the son of Eri, and Kynddelig Kyvarwydd, and Tathal Twyll Goleu, and Maelwys the son of Baeddan, and Crychwr the son of Nes, and Cubert the son of Daere, and Percos the son of Poch, and Lluber Beuthach, and Corvil Bervach, and Gwynn the son of Nudd, and Edeyrn the son of Nudd, and Gadwy the son of Geraint, and Prince Fflewddur Fflam, and Ruawn Pebyr the son of Dorath, and Bradwen the son of Moren Mynawc, and Moren Mynawc himself, and..."

... and on he goes, for another two thousand words comprising the list of knights he wants Arthur to send with him. I have a copy with annotations of things like the meanings of the names, and the list is about eight pages. There's a 3000-word list of tasks Culhwch has to do a bit later, too...

Anyway, Arthurian legend is ridiculous and the Welsh are bad at writing.

hS

Being so used to modern fiction, I have a strong desire for all the known Arthurian material to interconnect like a book series, with internal consistency and characterization and clear plot threads. I know that isn't the case, though, since it all started as word-of-mouth legends with multiple authors contributing, so of course, every individual piece is at least somewhat self-contained. They just weren't designed to be consumed the way The Hunger Games, for example, was. It's kind of a shame. :(

—doctorlit, wanting to read it all

In the last part of the Morte d'Arthur, Gawain and Lancelot have a big, multi-day fight. During the fight, Lancelot discovers that Gawain's strength increases massively as the day heads towards noon, only to drop off again in the afternoon.

I always figured that this is actually the girdle/belt at play, though Mallory never says as much. We already know it's a finicky piece of magic (it doesn't actually protect Gawain completely), so this would fit perfectly as a different tradition about it.

hS

The classic geography of far-eastern Konti-Nyuum would say that Landen-zon is probably on the coast east of La Wunj, at the mouth of the Nechsiv. That's certainly possible, but it continues to leave the Diskord very empty, particularly in the east.

Is it possible that this is a previously-unmentioned port at the mouth of the Sozeri, down on the southern coast? We'd need to add another break in the reefs (so what else is new?), but it would give more space for people to expand on the stories of the Diskord.

hS

(Haha, I wish 10K people came across Plort every day...!)

Hear, o newcomer, the tale of this battlemented isle, this fortress in the northern seas, this bastion of Kanun, this legacy of Jay and Acacia. Hear of the legacy of our proud Union, of the trials of its past, the great names which have been spoken in these fabled halls, the battles that have been fought and the treaties which have been forged. Hear and wonder, o new-come to Konti-Nyuum; hear now the...

History of the Protectorate of Plort, Konti-Nyuum

(And when you've read the History, you can jump to the Beginners' Guide to figure out what in the name of Spelin Tam-Ara is going on. ^_^)

hS

I, the overenthusiastic newbie, would like to know more about the Union of Plort, and whether I can get knighted.

In those days, the citizens of Diskord were debating among themselves, for many of them had concerns about the state of the Confederation.

"There should be a circle of Writin," many said, "so we may properly worship the gods again."

The Dizzy Chords and even the cities of Borrd (for there had been some worry there about the Diskorders weakness of faith) rang out in support of this idea, and then the Mords made it so.

Then, through his stone, Sir Tomash spoke, saying "We should build a hall of welcome at the port of Landen-zon, so that foreigners coming to our land may hear of the customs of Plort before venturing too far inland." The people of Diskord agreed this was a good idea, and the Mords made it so, setting aside a place for the hall, which was built and richly decorated with illustrations from the Efawkews.

Then, another proposal arose from the distributed crowd. "We ought create a circle for discussions of the Marizu, so we may better prepare ourselves for battle." The Mords heard this, and, since they thought the proposal a good one, made it so. The new circle was named Badvik, after the mountains in which many of the knights of Plort had trained over the long years.

Since some discussion was going on, Baroness Juliette, who was speaking while traveling to the council, said "Shall we elect new Mords? I often watch the stones alone, and this is wearying. There is also rarely any Mord awake when I sleep, leaving our fair land unwatched." The citizens chattered amongst themselves, and wondered who would make a good Mord. "Not I" said just about everyone, for their own reasons. Within the chatter came a shout, "Akrinor for Mord!".

This proved to be a rather popular idea, since Akrinor was well-respected within the Confederation and often awake when the Mords slept. So the initial shout grew into a chant of "AK-RIN-OR! AK-RIN-OR!"

Akrinor was reluctant to take the power offered to him at first, but eventually he declared "I will do it, for now. If, within the month, anyone objects to my rule or I realize I do not want the robe, I will step down."

Hearing this, Baron PC, who held the Master Stone, which could raise Mords, brought Akrinor to his castle. There, he draped a fine purple robe, the symbol of the Mords, over Akrinor, and stood before his stone, proclaiming: "Ahteverione," he began, the magic words causing stones to glow or vibrate throughout Plort, "behold Akrinor, the Mord you have chosen!"

And thus, Akrinor joined the ranks of the Mords, kicking off a round of celebration and feasting throughout the land.

(( Since recent Discord stuff needing Plortifying.
Everyone with lines has approved of them.

- Tomash ))

Plugging something to someone on the Wiki isn't necessarily rude, but doing it for the sole purpose of demanding others write missions into that continuum is.

So mind not doing it again?

I haven't seen a single episode of the show nor do I particularly care about it; the most I know of it is that there are a few artists I follow on DeviantArt who have produced fanart of it as well as characters from other continua in its style. I'm afraid I don't know anyone else who knows the show either, though if I find out that anyone does I'm sure I can direct them to the OP to see what they think. (Or probably not; since it's stated to be a bleepfic I don't think exposing a Loud House fan to it would be the brightest idea...)