The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

I remember seeing you on Discord, and some of your edits. Happy to learn you finally jumped onBoard. Let's celebrate this with a pot of black-hole coffee.

Hello, and welcome aBoard! For your newbie gift, take this plate of freshly-made SPaGhetti!

Glad to see you've finally decided to stop lurking and join us—we saw you on the Discord channel before and had no idea who you were, and frankly you made a few of us nervous! :P Glad to see that nervousness was unfounded, and that you finally decided to say hi.

Also glad to see you've done the recommended reading! As for possible other PPC stuff for you to read... have a list of my favorites!

Hope you like it here and decide to stick around. :)

Well hello everybody, I am KimchiRamen, though I also go around as AthrinAmrepyh (or just Athrin when it's not taken), but you can call me any nickname that you wish. A few years ago I discovered the PPC via TVtropes, started reading in this month last year and became a lurker ever since I finished the original series in the same month.

This will be the first time I'm going to actually join a forum. That is mostly what has been keeping me from joining for I haven't been directly interacting through the internet for a long time (with two exceptions, one consisted of me embarrassing myself), and I am scared to do so as I am too used to being an outsider that's just "there". But right now, I really want to remedy it, and I managed to gather enough of my rapidly fleeting drive and motivation to face my anxiety and take my first step. Hopefully, I can find what I am looking for within this community and I won't end up doing anything terrible.
Alright, enough of that stuff and onto introducing myself.

I am not Korean, I am a male faux Filipino attempting to cherish my time here in Nevada.
Yes, I have read the constitution and, like I said, the original series, along with the FAQs and the guides.

Among my fandoms, whether my knowledge of it is either sufficient or incomplete, and even though maybe just one of these actually is a fandom; my most prominent would probably be: Half-Life(too late to do even two worthwhile things with this knowledge) and its spin-offs; Steins;Gate, The World Ends With You, The Sea of Trolls, and several webcomics. I'm also in the middle of Discworld, The Redwall Trilogy, The Dresden Files, Monster Musume(what am I doing with my life), a multitude of other webcomics and contemplating on if I should continue The Last Apprentice.

I am also a user of another wiki, the Bad Webcomics Wiki (Warning: Contains swearing and NSFW/NSFB content), a webcomic criticism site. All in all, my current hobbies include playing mobile games, occasionally LoL, reading, lurking in corners, watching videos on youtube, cooking, routine practice and doing minor (or "minor") edits in both your wiki and the BWW in perpetual fear that I might mess up terribly. I'm also self-training regularly in art under these free drawing lessons.

Lastly, I am requesting admission to the sib program under House Kind Words and a Two-by-Four. With a webcomic criticism site as my current home, it should come as no surprise that I am interested in writing my own reviews, or just writing in general, and I would like to have someone help me in my learning process.




Well, I finally did it. I'm sorry if the post is too long, I hope that I didn't miss any questions, I apologize if I made anyone paranoid from lurking in Discord that day and I must thank you all for the strong presence of this community.

Okay, the short answer here is 'because Tolkien invented them before he decided Elves didn't have beards'. But that's boring.

It's impossible to know when the leaders of the three tribes - Ingwe, Finwe, Elwe and Olwe - were born. They probably /were/ born rather than awakening, because Elwe and Olwe are brothers: not a relationship that makes much sense among the first to wake. But we don't know for sure.

Cirdan and Mahtan are in the same boat. Cirdan is a leader while Mahtan is just a smith, but they /could/ both be first-generation. We don't know for sure.

Our best understanding is that Cirdan awoke at Cuivienen, or at least was born before any other elf we know of. He's in what Tolkien called the third stage of his life - essentially, old age. Elves grow beards in the third stage.

Mahtan isn't. He's in the second stage (adulthood)... but he's also one of those rare elves who are bearded in the second stage. It's just a thing, like being left-handed.

hS

It was also the fact that it's a freaking giant letter C. Something about that just makes me so happy.

Hmm... as for what I'll do with this... I think I'll stick it the only place it'll fit - we didn't need the backyard space anyways.

Particularly since you'd never know the jokes unless you had at least some knowledge of Quenya, or took the time to look up each translation. I like to imagine Tolkien chuckling away at his typewriter, shaking his head at how silly his own characters are being.

Oh, duh! *facepalm* Shoulda seen that. I like it!

Aaand another facepalm, because I am blind. Maybe she can jump really high or something?

You did excellently! I think Lucio, Bastion, and Tracer are my favorites. That face Lucio is making--that is a Lucio face.

Also, random question: why do Mahtan and Cirdan have beards, but not Finwe or Thingol? They woke up first, so they must be older than Mahtan and Cirdan.

-Alleb

Maybe in fifty or so years, when I've finally gotten through that bloody list, we can kick back and talk and laugh about our favourite parts of it!

Stockins commented intelligently, holding up the letter.

'Waurgh,' He added to his essay, holding the letter up further, observing it against the light.

'Gwaaurgh!' He continued, eyes widening.

'Could I please have my letter back?' Lord Reedy asked, drawing himself up and brushing his (very fancy and expensive) coat.

'Gwghaaaaurgh!' Stockins exclaimed, turning around and walking off. The clattering of his equipment rose and dipped like a really bad orchestra.

'Um. Can I have it back, now?' Lord Reedy said, slowly approaching.
Go on a walk alone, he had told himself. Get away from the crowd, he had told himself. Be yourself, he had told himself.

'Please?' He stepped closer, feeling a dreadful, choking warmth rising in his face and neck.

'Glarlrgalrgh!' The short merchant argued, walking off, staring into the letter.

His knees wobbled. A weight pressed against his neck. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, and looked at his hand. It was small, thin, and weak, gleaming with oily sweat.
'Can we be reasonable?' He babbled.

The merchant spun around. His eyes were practically swirling with madness.
''Course, 'course. I'm a proper businessman, of course. I'm being stupid, pardon.' The merchant thought he was saying.

'Hrrnghrrrng.' Is what came out. He clattered and tinkled, pulling something out of a pocket.

Lord Reedy squeaked, as a silvery object flew out of the merchant's hand, clinking against the cobbled ground.
He looked up, watching pathetically as the merchant continued down the path, muttering and babbling.
He caught a few words, like 'payment,' 'business,' 'letter,' and, most frequently: 'feast.'

((I'm probably available. Er. Probably. I might not be, but I can't imagine why.
And, hey, he might not be nobility - but he's a proper businessman, you know!))

Eh?!

Someone say my name?

Can't be helped, eh?

I don't feel like I can take a proper look because I'm all addled on sleep meds at the moment, but I'd like to put in my two cents. I've seen Maz and Yocherry interact a lot in the Rudi's RP on the Discord channel and I really enjoy getting to pair up with them; they're a cool duo as far as I'm concerned.

Best of luck to you, Larf!

looked up from sweeping last week's moldy rushes off the floor to notice a pair of well-dressed women enter, stamping their boots and complaining loudly of the weather. She could tell from their livery that they were the servants of someone of rank, but the heraldry was unfamiliar to her. They ordered hot drinks -- "don't care what kind, so long as they're steaming" -- and sat down at a table near the window, far from the other customers (a family of new arrivals, poking with bemusement at their complimentary "Newbie Pastries").

When their mugs of Hot Stuff arrived, they fell silent, drinking as voraciously as possible without burning the roofs off their mouths. Once they were warmed somewhat, they began to speak again, this time in whispers.

Catherine swept herself a meandering path which made a figure-eight around two tables, passed the piano, and gradually, entirely by accident, made its way to right behind the pillar nearest the classily-garbed strangers, where she found that the rushes were stuck to the floor with a glob of something rather nasty, forcing her to remain there for several minutes.

". . .stupid Christmas party. . ." she heard one of the fancily-attired women mutter. Catherine loved parties. She leaned a little closer.

". . .new knights. . . think they're all that and a bag of. . ." her swankily-clad associate commiserated. A new knight? Was their faith in the cause pure? Did they sally forth and return shrouded in a haze of righteously-spilled Marizu blood? Were they meritous, brave, and true? Were they -- her heart thudded -- handsome? (She mentally slapped herself. She had a girlfriend out there, somewhere. Farming in Vidya Gaym, or perhaps traveling Weab. . .)

". . .ugh, all the way. . .in this weather. . ." Catherine strained to hear. From whence had these strangers come, in clothes of such fine make? There-- there it was! She could swear the second woman had said: Tumblar.

How far was that? She had counted herself lucky to find lodging anywhere in Plort, but perhaps another journey was in order. Perhaps, for such a big party, the knight would consider hiring some extra help.

". . .on earth. . .serving girl. . ." Catherine managed not to jump. With utmost nonchalance, she continued her circuit of the room.

((OOC: Might crash the party, if that's okay. I don't think I have any other plans for that day.

And yes, I believe this is Catherine's first appearance? I think I've mentioned her before, though, and I have a backstory for her if you want it. It needs serious editing, but I can do that pretty quickly now that finals are just about over.))

--Key

This is not a prank, this is not a joke, this is not a spoof, a goof or a gaff.
Pranks, jokes, spoofs, goofs and gaffs are hereby banned, upon the threat of exile, very rude words, and me throwing cream pies at you.

So, I'm requesting permission! It didn't quite take a year for me to sort it, but, er. It wasn't far off.
Perhaps it would have a certain drama and irony, if I were to wait and do this on the date I joined, but, mate. I can't bloody remember that far. And I've been sitting on this stuff for so long, it's going to leave a permanent mark on my bum and trousers.

Permission!
Over to your left, you'll see my bios.
And a little walk to your right, you'll see the control prompt.
And then, back to your left again, sort of stacked on top of the bios, we've got the random prompt. Agents find a mysterious thing, or some such like that.
And last, and really, really, most certainly least, the badfic.

And we need that explanation for the reason we want to mission the badfic. It recommends a sentence, but, mate, I could write an essay. It's amazing.
It's a Cowboy Bebop fic, and can be generalised as a big collective of melodramatic sobbing, intercut with scenes of melodramatically holding back tears. Two OCs are introduced, one of whom is a classic Sue, what with the fancy eyes, a speshul and ultimately plot-irrelevant inviso-ship, generic beauty and kindness and all, and generally acting like a sort of plot black hole. The other OC just sort of faffs around and has a stupid backstory.
Not a single canon is IC, and most of them only really appear once or twice within the whole story. Jet and Spike, who appear the most out of all the canons, are completely replaced. Prose is beige, the story skips over all the interesting (canonical) parts, and there... are... heaps... of... ellipses...
All in all, it's a cute little mess, and I could imagine missioning it.

And I've got to thank my lovely betas, Cat-On-The-Keyboard, Granz the Ice Cream Monarch, and SkarmorySilver for being really cool.
And also for betaing my stuff.

So!
Lay it on me!
Even if you aren't a PG, concrit is always nice, so if there's something or other you ought to say - go ahead!

I give you a wooden cutout of a dragon. A European-style dragon. If you push the button, it shoots real flames! And plays a prerecorded sound of a person yelling "Mr. Rogers! Mr. Rogers! Definitely safe to carry around; what are you talking about.

Your concerns about joining communities. . . seem very, very valid to me. I won't say that we don't have problems, but we're a good bit politer and more honestly invested in resolving them than anywhere else I've been. Have you read our Constitution? We tend to follow that. We're definitely not at the point of death threats (unless I'm missing something huge).

Star Trek! . . . funny story there; my friend and I decided we'd watch all of Star Trek in order of airdate this summer (we're on season 3 of TOS; regrets abound but we're not stopping) and I decided that I couldn't bring myself to ask for Permission to write for the PPC without creating and developing a Vulcan agent (scrapping two perfectly good non-Vulcans in the process). And because I am an Endless Fount of Bad Ideas and Overplanning, I have decided that I need to figure out the day-to-day workings of Vulcan biology (no, not that kind. Along the lines of how often do they usually eat). . . anyway what I'm saying is that if talking about this kind of thing is your idea of fun, click my username; it'll give you my email (if you don't want to, no worries -- if I needed someone, I'd post a general call to the Board. Just if you're bored and want an excuse to come up with elaborate Star Trek headcanons, or to befriend one of the less-shiny and new Boarders).

--Key is actually pretty new and way too enthusiastic; engage at your own risk.

into something more English-like. I needed a username that was relatively pronounceable, and wasn't feeling too creative.

I did not know there were actual d3 dice, very cool! We sometimes use the d6 and halve it like Scapegrace said. But that's if the DM is not being evil. Sometimes she makes us roll a d4 and subtract 1 from the roll so 4 = 3, 3 = 2, 2 = 1... and 1 = 0. Because she is the Millionth Mask, and she likes to make zero an option if she can.

Blue is one of my favorite colors too. When I was approximately six, I wouldn't let my sister say that blue was her favorite color, I was so possessive of it (don't worry; I've mellowed a bit with age. You can have some blue too). Is blue a favorite for any particular reason? You seem to be pretty excited about having a blue thing :P

I'd advise against treating personal thank-yous as something too special, though. As I've said, we're more of a community with writers than writers with a community. These gifts are our way of starting first conversations. Please, ask us questions about them, or describe what you're going to do with them (like it or not, all this stuff has landed in your virtual lap!). That's how I got to be friends with Larfen: he yelled in my ear and gave me bandages, and we filled a thread with writing back and forth about the consequences. He's one of my favorite people ^.^ If I hadn't replied to his posts, we might not have started talking, and that would be sad.

--Key is a very chatty person. Not everyone is quite as chatty as Key. Disclaimer over.

Curse autofill! Anyway, that last post was from me, but please do not attempt to contact me through the email I accidentally posted.

. . . Is this something I can ask the Nameless Admin to remove?

--Key sweats nervously

So. . . who is it? What are they like? Are they tall? Short? Gainfully employed? A romantically starving artist? Someone you've been with for as long as you've been aBoard and about whom everyone knows everything except for me and all the other pathetic newbies?

Are they a good dancer?

--Key is seriously not trying to stalk you, feel free to ignore her.

(A postscript, shot through time from six-year-old me:

Can IIIIII be your flower girl?? *puppy-dog eyes*)

Birthday birthday birthday birthday birthday birthday birthday!

My gift upon you is: the time.
1:03 PM.
Happy birthday!