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TAOTISH Chapter 6

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Well, I've begun work on The Adventures of The Insane Space Hunter, Chapter 6... starring Warchord. And some random people with accents, why not. :P Anyway, here's what I've written so far... just looking for some feedback at this stage.


Be forewarned, I compose it with HTML tags (being that it's going to be posted on a webpage, not on a message board, when it reaches its final form), so I simply ran a find-replace to convert it to BBCode. Obviously, a few tags might be missed because I'm just looking to make it readable, not looking to make an entirely BBCode-based version of it. :P


[bgcolor=black]"Two Josta Jives, please, oh captain, my captain." said the Insane Space Hunter, leaning up against the bar at Brooklyn Joe's Hot Dog Stand & Liquor Dive.

"We ain't got none o' that fancy stuff, man, like I told ya the other three times ya ordered." grumbled the barman, presumably 'Brooklyn Joe.' "Two more beers, comin' up."

"I'm tellin you, Spacey, none of my contacts can get any leads on this guy." said the Hunter's erstwhile partner as he brought the drinks over to the table where she fiddled with a datapad and two or three communicators of various sizes and amplitudes. Sporting a purple ponytail, armored in high-tech plating and armed with robotic vine tendrils, she'd met the Hunter in the dairy aisle of an abandoned military grocery store in an arctic desert cave (a cave, in a desert that happens to be really cold), at which point they'd begun a sort of partnership. That is, she vaguely remembered the Hunter from some event in the past (which he didn't remember at all) and figured they could work together until she figured it out. Possessing a penchant for dealing out nicknames to people with reckless abandon and then calling them by said moniker heedless of protest, she'd called the Hunter 'Spacey' since they'd met. He called her Warchord (which happened to be her name) when and if he called her by name, which wasn't often (due largely to the inexplicable familiarity the two had developed entirely by accident, and partially to the fact that he seldom, if ever, referred to ANYONE by anything resembling their given name).

"Yonder stevedore of the alcoholic dockyard remanded these particular potables to my custody." said the Hunter, as if to illustrate his peculiar conversational tendencies.

"Wha? Oh, right. Still getting used to the voice." replied Warchord, taking a pull from her drink. The Hunter had the ability to modulate his voice to the point of being able to impersonate others, and she'd met him whilst he was 'borrowing' the voice of one "Skins" Kelly, a medical officer last seen employed by the Imperious Galaxial Order for Order and Chaos. "What did ol' Steve say this time?"

"We ain't got none o' that fancy stuff, man, like I told ya the other three times ya ordered." replied the Hunter in a flawless imitation of Brooklyn Joe.

"Well, that's thirteen bars down." said Warchord, ticking off another entry on her datapad. "And here I thought that bounty hunting would be a lot of action." she muttered. The odd duo had been traipsing all about the seedier districts of the planet-city "Planet .38," seeking an arms dealer named Vinny the Mole. Planet .38 was named so because of its longstanding history of small-caliber pistol manufacture and oft-related gangland shootings. From the name, one might almost think it to be a loosely based on Earth's New York City in the year 1938, but it was in fact a lot more like the Roaring 20's minus Prohibition and pole-sitting.

"Aye, me hearty, another scurvy dog what doesn't know how much wood a woodchuck'd chuck when saluted by Walt Whitman." quipped the Hunter in a random bout of salty pirate-isms, obtusely referring to the passphrase "oh captain, my captain" that was the only shred of a clue Warchord's extensive network of various 'contacts' had turned up. The theory was that Vinny (whom Warchord had angrily started calling 'Holestuffer' instead of 'Moley' after their fifth failed attempt to find him) had but one way to contact him, and that was to utter the words "Oh captain, my captain" to a given bartender the fourth time you ordered drinks. Apparently, Vinny was a fan of the Earth poet Walt Whitman, who penned Oh Captain! My Captain!. Also, apparently, it was one specific bartender to whom the passphrase had any meaning other than the normally incoherent ramblings that the Hunter dispatched when ordering drinks, such as "my good Methuselah" or "so that I may find respite with the repast contained within yonder Winnebago." And, as of yet, the Hunter and Warchord had not found that one mythical bartender. At this point, Warchord was beginning to think of said tavern employee as some manner of folk myth, and the Hunter was beginning to think of gyrating windmills deep in the heartlands of Andalusia. "Perhaps Don Quixote is tilting at Heidi's windmill." the Hunter mused, bringing a second somehow-related literary reference into the caper.

"...wha? Oh, you mean the German pub down the road... whatsit... Der Schnackenpfefferhausen?" replied Warchord, attempting to puzzle out whether the Hunter meant something by that or had simply gone slightly crazier than usual. "Sure, let's check it out..."


<hr size=2]


<p]"Two Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters, please, oh captain, my captain." said the Insane Space Hunter, leaning up against the counter at Der Schnackenpfefferhausen Brauerei and Fritz's All-You-Can-Eat Shnitzel House.

"Nein! Der Gosebier is ALL VE HAVE... vait, vhat did you zay?" replied the man behind the counter, whom most presumed to be Fritz, Warchord called "Frizz" for reasons related to his hair, and the Hunter regarded in much the same curious manner as a housecat would blandly consider jumping from the back of a couch to a nearby shelf.

"Two Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters, please, oh captain, my captain." said the Insane Space Hunter, still leaning up against the counter at Der Schnackenpfefferhausen Brauerei and Fritz's All-You-Can-Eat Shnitzel House.

"Oh, ja, der purple cow flies at nacht!" jabbered Fritz excitedly, much to the chagrine of Warchord.

"The purple... can you get any cornier?" she asked angrily as Fritz depressed a button hidden under the counter, then shrugged helplessly at Warchord's piercing, "everybody-says-that-as-an-example-of-a-randomly-generated-counterphrase-to-a-passphrase, what-are-you-trying-to-pass-off-on-us-or-distract-us-with-while-someone-sneaks-up-behind-us" stare.

"What are ye doin' botherin' Fritz, me canny wee lassie?" asked an incongruous Scots-infused voice from behind them. Warchord whipped around abruptly and found herself staring into several gunbarrels. Of course, gunbarrels by themselves wouldn't usually be cause for alarm, but these were inedeed being held by incongruous (yet large) kilt-clad Scottish bruisers who had apparently snuck in behind them whilst Warchord was focusing on communicating "everybody-says-that-as-an-example-of-a-randomly-generated-counterphrase-to-a-passphrase, what-are-you-trying-to-pass-off-on-us-or-distract-us-with-while-someone-sneaks-up-behind-us" in the form of focusing her vision upon a Germanic bartender.

"We were just, uh, trying to order some fish?" said Warchord, attempting to formulate a plan for communicating to the Hunter her plan for getting them out of what was undoubtedly some manner of sticky predicament. "A... what was it... flounder by the face, a mackerel held by two fingers, two groupers, and smelt, smelt, smelt?" she explained, trying to remember the basic linguistic structure of Blank-Stare-And-Hand-A-Fish-Ese, which the Hunter had attempted to teach her in case they ever needed to communicate without being understood by anyone else. Since nobody but the Hunter, a mad scientist, and a handful of penguins actually knew of the existence of Blank-Stare-And-Hand-A-Fish-Ese, odds were in their favor that the goons didn't know what she meant by "flounder by the face, a mackerel held by two fingers, two groupers, and smelt, smelt, smelt."

Indeed, they did not know that she intended for the Hunter to knock out the one on the right while she threw Fritz (now behind her) at the other two with her robotic vines, but since the Hunter was facing away from his intended target and her expostulation was lacking the actual handing of fish for which the language gained its name, he completely missed the relevance of what she said to the inherent danger to their lives, which he was also blissfully unaware of.

Of course, Warchord, who was already at the end of her patience because they were in the fourteenth bar of the day and wasn't about to wait around for confirmation of her plan, simply hoped that the Hunter had understood her meaning and lashed out with her vines, which ensconced Fritz handily and promptly used him to batter the two Scots on the left into unconsciousness. The Hunter, meanwhile, simply craned his neck and then his torso into a unique rearward leaning posture to watch as Fritz was helplessly lifted above their heads and brought crashing down into the Scots, whom the Hunter, much like the entire plan, had been previously unaware of.

"That was yer last mistake, lass. Th' keenin' o' yer mammy will resound through yer..." started the last of the highlanders, but stopped in the middle of brandishing his pistol when he was suddenly staring down at the upside-down head of the Hunter, who'd leaned over backward far enough to be facing the other way. His extraordinary war-borg programming and reflexes taking over while his brain idly wondered why the world was upside-down, he promptly relieved the villain of his weapon and, still upside-down, completely disassembled it into every single one of its component pieces in the time it takes to type "paradichlorobenzene" twice on a typewriter. Without tools, at that. At this, the goon simply stood silently, watching the miscellaneous springs, screws, and other pieces that formerly made up his firearm fall to the ground.

"Okay, now, tell us where Holestuffer is!" shouted Warchord angrily, her vines still brandishing the now-unconscious Fritz.

"Wha... ye mean Vinny th' Mole? Aye, lass, I'll tell ye where he is, since ye've passed th' test." said the big Scot, still eyeing the dangling form of Fritz.

"Test? What test?" barked Warchord, lifting Fritz as if to strike.

"Hah! Ye've nae heard o' Vinny's recruitin' strategy? He sends us in t'set up a trap fer anyone who kens how tae contact him tha' we dinnae know already. If they survive, then we introduce 'em so's they might join th' gang."

"Well, it's not much of a 'recruiting strategy' if everybody knows that it's supposed to be a trap, is it?" asked Warchord.

"Er, I suppose not. Neither am I so interested in takin' th' lumps when someone tries t'join th' gang, now that ye mention it." replied the still-unnamed Scot in his ever-present brogue.

"Then, sir, let us venture forthwith into that most unrelegated of areas!" said the Hunter, suddenly righting himself physically and inserting himself into the conversation vocally.

"Right, right, come wi' me." replied the surly Scot, beckoning for them to follow him out the door.[/bgcolor]

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One thing I've actually already changed is when the Hunter disarms the Scottish guy... the rough draft (above) didn't really go into the detail I wanted, which was basically that the Hunter, instead of going into "combat mode," inexplicably decided to disassemble and clean the guy's pistol. I'll amend that section later when I've got my laptop, which I accidentally forgot at home today.


...not that anybody's paying attention, anyway. :P

Have a nice day!

The Insane Space Hunter

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Hm, I hadn't thought of that. I'll probably either amend the first post to reflect the most recent version of the "manuscript" or just post it in sections and amend the sections as necessary.


Or... maybe I'll just upload a temporary HTML file onto the site, so that I don't have to keep converting it into BBCode from HTML. Hm.


In any case, there's a few more things with this particular passage that I intend to flesh out, and I'm thinking about putting a little more of an introduction of the scene at the beginning, but one of the things I'm interested in knowing is whether Warchord is working the way you want her to or not (she's your character, so I want to make sure that she's staying "in character" as much as she is wont to do in my own particular writing style), and whether any details need changing or amending--for instance, she's always referring to some "contact," perhaps more than one, so I figured that she'd have several different contacts, or a network of contacts.


I mean, I know who one of them is, obviously, but I expanded it so that she's kinda the brains of the operation (since the Hunter is, well, you know...), insofar as finding people or things. I also put them into a "bounty hunting" type of operation, which is (ironically) the one thing the Hunter is famous for even though he's never been mentioned as having done any of it (except a "training mission" in Chapter 4 with Samus). It seemed to mesh with Warchord's omnipresent need to test herself against other warriors (I'm intentionally never going to mention who won in the fight between her and the Hunter at the end of BOTP8, incidentally), work as a setting, and mesh with random other details, such as the aforementioned "network of contacts" that I gave Warchord to find things, such as information on "Vinny the Mole" or what-have-you. It seemed a worthy premise for an adventure (which is indeed going to be far more than a simple smash-and-grab bounty mission, which is probably what Warchord was looking for when she signed up. :P


On an unrelated note, Sasuke, I'd like to co-op one of these kinda things with you at some point, perhaps in the same fashion we did our intro post. Just for fun, if your interested. We'd probably want to string it out over several sessions (due to the fact that I like longer adventures, as it were), but it's just a random idea right now and there's no reason to worry about details. I'm just wondering if you're interested.


Have a nice day!

The Insane Space Hunter

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Thus far I see nothing wrong with how you write Warchord. In fact, the contacts bit is something I really like and can see how it could work in favor of her character. All in all, I gotta say you have a strong grasp of what Warchord's like.


And the co-op idea sounds pretty cool, we'd just need to settle on a time, especially with my mixed days and nights as of late :P

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