The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

Thranduil's virulent racism against Silvan elves is an invention of the Hobbit movies. It's easy to miss that he's supposed to be Sindarin in the books, but in the movies it's crystal clear.

(I have no idea how one winds up pinning him to Lorien, though.)

hS

That doesn't take a very deep geek to spot 🤣; I'm pretty sure people who've only seen the movies can catch that one.

Plus the current dA logo kinda looks like a tree.

This isn't just a bunch of nerds dressing up for personal enjoyment, this is a professional photo shoot with professional costumes and makeup. We don't generally refer to stage or film acting as "playing pretend," either; same reason.

That said, the article loses credibility with me in the first paragraph, when it starts going on about how all the Elves "glow with the radiance of every twilight, bathed in the dew of every sunrise" and so forth. First of all, blech, that's some very purple prose right there. Second, with regard to glowing... like... maybe? If they ever set foot in Aman, certainly they have the light of the Two Trees about them, but the Sindar who lived all their lives in Middle-earth, like Thranduil? Ehhhh, I dunno. I guess their spirits would still look brighter than the edain's, but I'm not sure it shows on the surface the way it does with the Calaquendi.

That said, serious Tolkien geeks are probably not the intended audience here. Pretty pictures go brrrr. {= )

~Neshomeh

I think my writing has gotten a lot better since I first discovered fanfiction in 2019 or 2020. I will start writing that mission soon.

About Deirdre, I've decided that she does not have powers. It will be simpler that way.

-Claire, who should be working on her 1984 project instead of PPC stuff.

I know you've been waiting a while on this; all I can say is that we're all bone-weary these years, and it has nothing to do with you personally.

You: Yeah, you've been around a while and not done anything bad. Tick.

The Agents: They look fine. The only thing that flags is that "may or may not have powers" on Deirdre, which is fine - characters change as we write them - but don't turn it into a sneaky "she gets new powers every time she shows up".

The Badfic: I wouldn't say hilariously bad, but for a short mission centred on the typos and the presentation (block paragraph, Schrödinger's green highlighting) it should work fine.

The Sample: So! In general your SPG looks good. Your plot looks fine; I think you've heavily edited it from the first version, which you should never be afraid to do (even if it's published!). One plothole which seems to have hung around is that the agents just... grab the Suvian from right next to the canon characters, and then charge her right there. I feel like the hobbits would have said something even if the lack of plot had zoned them out.

In terms of critique, the key phrase that's coming to mind is "run-on".

• You start us off with a run-on sentence about how Rebecca got transferred. It kind of works as a stylistic thing, but you need to be sure you realise you're doing it (and can turn it off).
• Your dialogue tends to run together. Check out Deirdre's first speech: she throws at least four bits of information at Rebecca without taking a breath, and doesn't seem to be doing it because she's in a rush. People don't usually talk like that in real life: they leave gaps for the other person to reply, or you could break it up with actions. "I’m Deirdre Oharan; I was told you were assigned to be my partner." Deirdre stepped back, allowing Rebecca to peer into the cluttered room. "This is RC 3791, and this is my mini-Balrog, Baelrog."
• You're trying to handle action sequences in single paragraphs. Deirdre rescues Rebecca in a single paragraph, and somehow(?) they drag a conscious warrior!Suvian up a ruined tower in a single sentence. In both of these cases, you could do with letting the other characters have space to react. How did the Witch-King take another stranger popping up, yelling at him, and fiddling with a bit of equipment? So far as you've written, he just sort of stood there for a minute until Deirdre got her act together.

All of these issues could be resolved by making sure to give your writing room to breathe. If a sentence or a paragraph feels too long, too squashed together, break it up! Let a different character do something in the middle of it - talking ain't a free action, and people don't really wait their turn to act. I know (believe me, I know) that dialogue is the easiest thing to write, but if you've committed to an action segment, make sure you give it as much space to work as it needs, rather than hurrying to get back to the dialogue.

(As an aside to this: there is no good way to include a full charge list in dialogue, but if you want to list all the charges, you should probably paragraph break it in the middle.)

So, basically... your writing has room to grow. Well, so does everyone else's, mine included. I see nothing here that would wreck PPC canon, and it seems like you've responded well to the concerns Nesh and Nova raised last time (a lot of which were about unrealistic behaviour and skills). I'm going to go ahead and say Permission Granted.

hS

And I have a link to the GND gallery on DeviantART, too!

Also, hello and welcome, RippleStarShards! I also like Jekyll & Hyde and PotO, but I entered both fandoms via the musicals, so I suspect I'm a bit less salty about them. That said, I grew out of being a total Phantom simp years ago (book!Christine is too good for him and Raoul, IMO), the 2004 PotO movie was a travesty (don't even want to talk about Love Never Dies), the common popular-media portrayals of Hyde as a Hulk-like monstrosity make me want to tear my hair out, and I retch at the thought of shipping him in any form. I think we'll get along just fine. ^_~

If you'll forgive me for plugging myself, one of my agents is a Gerry!Phantom expy (sort of; it's complicated), and I have written a couple missions in the PotO fandom. If you read them, I'd love to hear your thoughts. ^_^

Meanwhile, have some freshly baked Canon Cookies! They're loaded with chocolate chips and canony goodness.

~Neshomeh

Even before we reached the inn, I noticed something was wrong. I had not visited Newbury before, but at that time on an autumnal afternoon I would expect any town in the Shire to feel very much the same: streets bustling as the farm-folk brought their harvests home, children playing underfoot, and in general the good Hobbits of Buckland enjoying the warm weather before the winter set in.

Yet if Newbury was not quite empty, it was far quieter than it ought to have been as we made our way up the earth road. Those few people I saw hurried on their way as if desperate to reach their homes, and I caught not a few glancing nervously towards the dark Hedge to the east and north.

Hemlock gave no indication of noticing anything amiss. She strode up to the inn in the centre of town, distinctive by its hanging sign of the bright Starry Wain, and rapped her knuckles on the door.

There was no answer. Hemlock knocked again. Then, and only then, did she frown and look around. "More spoons," she murmured. "Yes, that makes sense."

I followed her gaze, and found that many of the holes and houses nearby had ladles hung from their doorknockers or windowsills. "Does that mean something?" I asked, trying to follow her thoughts.

"Of course it means something," Hemlock said, turning back to the inn and knocking a third time. "But why don't they answer?" she asked, staring up at the black and silver sign. "It is almost as though they aren't even here - but no, there were seven spoons, they must be in there."

I coughed, remembering my search at the fork in the road. "Is it a good time to mention that I only actually found six of them?"

"Six?" Hemlock looked sharply at me. "But you said seven."

"You said seven," I reminded her. "And you are usually correct on these matters."

"Usually." Hemlock swung an accusing gaze back to the sign of the Starry Wain. "Ah! Usually will be the death of us. My dear Whitson, the whole art of deduction lies in testing one's suspicions, not simply accepting them!" She thudded her fist against the door one last time, achieving no more result than the previous attempts. "Quick - what time does the sun set in this season?"

I blinked at her in bewilderment. "How can you not know the length of an autumn's day?"

"That's why I keep you around," Hemlock said briskly, but she smiled as she did. "Come, Miss Whitson, an answer if you will!"

I squinted up at the sun, counted the days since the equinox, and gauged the rumbling in my stomach. "I should say we have about three hours," I hazarded.

"Then the road is too long; we shall have to take a more direct route." Hemlock caught her long skirts in one hand and hitched them up, tying the fabric in a rough knot that lifted her hems well off the ground.

I sighed, knowing what those bare shins portended. "I would really have preferred to avoid trekking cross-country," I said, following her example.

"Then you ought to have counted your ladles correctly." Hemlock caught my hand and grinned at my weary expression. "Come, Whitson - the game's afoot!"

My friend led me south-west, directly towards the setting sun. We followed farmers' tracks when we could find them, but for the most part we jogged through fields, scrambled over fences, and picked our way through woodland too broad to divert around. Despite our precautions, my skirt soon became snagged and tattered, and my feet and hands were stained with brown and green.

After an hour had passed the land began to rise, and the ploughed fields gave way to more decorative landscapes. We found a narrow path and followed it up the hill towards a distant column of smoke that portended houses and proper roads again.

Suddenly Hemlock stopped, so abruptly that I ran into her back. She caught me and set me back on my feet, then held up a hand to her ear. "Soft, Whitson," she said. "Do you hear the hounds?"

I frowned and tilted my head. There was a distant barking, but only what one would expect from a town's dogs at play. "I suppose so," I said, "but I can see nothing remarkable about that."

Hemlock Holmes grinned at me. "Exactly," she said. "We shall make a Detector of you yet. Now, onwards - we must reach Brandy Hall ere the sun sets, or all will be in vain!"

---

One chapter to go, in which Hemlock will resolve all our mysteries, including:

• What was so curious about the victim's knife?
• Why was RACHEL being written on the gate?
• Why were there ladles hung on the High Hay and the house doors?
• What was the significance of the seven spoons, and what is different now we know there were only six?
• Why is Newbury so subdued?
• What was the significance of the distant barking of hounds?
• And will Juniper Whitson ever be allowed to eat anything?

hS

This magazine article on a professional cosplay of Thranduil and his wife was all fine and dandy up until they claim those two are Lothlórien silvan elves 🤦‍♀️. P.S. this may be me nitpicking, but they appear to be avoiding the term "cosplay" even though that's what the photoshoot essentially is.

It's a webcomic by Pika, who used to be involved in some degree here with the Board. It's about Christine from PotO and Sarah from Labyrinth as roommates (and Jareth and Erik are also roommates, downstairs :P) There's also lots of cameos from other fictional characters! It's a joy to read.

What.

Also, there's a joke waiting to be made, about Ylesia...

I thought we were friends. :P

(Then again, I can't recall ever having told you I like PotO, probably because I got harassed so much for shipping Raoul/Christine in my early Internet days that I've been terrified to mention it to anyone ever since. So it's my fault.)

Seriously, though, I'm always up for Phantom adaptation salt. Unless you're talking about the 1925 silent film, because that was excellent.

Have a stuffed Minotaur!

Hi! Fellow newbie-ish person here, welcome! Take a stuffed toy of a generic animal :) Hope ya like it here :D

A while ago I was quite worried that my missions weren't funny enough, so it makes me really glad to see this one being well-received. :) Thanks for reading!

• The thing was the anime glasses was funny
• As is stabby hair
• And the rollercoaster rides line
• Nice agent bonding moment on the backstory
• I think the flying pigs are currently on a different mission
• The exorcism bell would've been a cheap joke, but also would've worked, making the meta commentary also funnier
• "Not in a T-rated fic, he won't"
• Looking for goodslash is a good idea
• Ok, but are you sure we should be getting our minds out of the gutter?
• Good luck to your folks in finding Intel

Overall, there were a lot of funny bits, there wasn't too much quoting from the badfic but enough excerpts and references to make it obvious what's going on, the whole thing made sense even though I didn't know Yu-Gi-Oh, and there was good chemistry between the agents.

So, all I can really say is that this was good and funny!

But feel free to have plenty of crabs 🦀🦀🦀

We have the Pit of Voles, the Circle of Lemmings... but what about the Tree of Vultures (aka Deviantart)? You can write fanfic on there, due to the Literature option, but I really wanna know if you can really call it the Tree of Vultures. Otherwise, I dunno what other fanfic sites deserve the Tree designation.

Hint: try to search by "Most recent".

Also: I found some One Piece badfic in the Circle, but most of it is second-person, and I don't know how to write a non-boring Sue assassination method that doesn't result in the body being gruesomely mutilated. :P

Hi! I'm AstralCat! I also am a Troper, plus a Redditor (that's where I get my slightly insane sense of humor from).

Nice to meetcha, have a gerbil with Groucho Marx glasses!

I'm a newbie too! I will say that even though I'm not very well-versed in LOTR I read the Original Series and got some laughs out of it. It's pretty great, even with my somewhat pitiful recollections of just the movies. Welcome welcome!