Aardvark

At last, a story to match my attention span!

"But I can't sing." I complained to no avail. "Hon, everyone can sing. Sure, some sing better than others, but everyone sings beautifully in their own way." This devil woman wouldn't take no for an answer. Thanks to my mother, she had complete authority over me. "No, honestly, I can't sing." I tried again "Well, it's not up to you to judge whether or not you can sing. That's my job." Damn, foiled again Choir. Oh, how I'd giggled at those fools in their pansy white dresses, forced to give up their lunchtime and afterschool time for such a pathetic endeavour. Now I was one of them. Stupid rich socialite mother and her need to outdo her neighbour's twin duet. Now I was stuck with this heartless wench who was sure she could make an alto of me, whatever the hell that was. "Now chin up, eyes straight, deep breaths and sing, boy, sing." God, and it was made so much worse by her chirpy attitude and positive outlook on life "I don't want to sing, though. Why do I have to sing? Can't I just be one of the percussion people?" God, anything. At least they got to wear normal clothes "Nononononono, your mother insisted you sing, so that's what you're going to do, young man. Now sing for me." "What do I sing?" Maybe if I stall.... "Anything. Sing anything. I don't care, I just want to hear you sing." "But I don't know anything." Lies, of course, but I'd be damned if I was going to give in to her "You must know something. What about Happy Birthday?" "How does that go?" "Oh, come on, you MUST know Happy Birthday." "Umm.... no. Is that by The Angels?" I didn't even know if the angels were a band, being as musically isolated as I chose to be "Urrgh." Ooooh, this was a good sign. She was beginning to crack. "How can you not know Happy Birthday. You've heard 4 other kids sing it. Didn't you listen to them?" "I was busy blocking my ears and gritting my teeth to hear them." "Oh, you.... OK, what about a nursery rhyme? You've got to know a few of them." "No" "What about Old Mother Hubbard?" "The Scientologist?" "What?" She paused. Oops, why do I let my intelligence slip out like that. "Ok, what about Incy Wincy Spider?" "Impy wimpy what?" "GRRRR." This actually made me jump back. But my scheme was working. Her face was starting to strain. Thank God for the little media brainwashed kiddies who actually wanted to sing. "Ok, fine. Your favourite song. You have to have a favourite song. Just sing your favourite song, I know you have one, so don't try telling me you don't. Now sing your favourite song for me, or I'll call your mother and ask her to get you to sing." At this threat, I grinned. She was calling in her trump card, already. Even if I did sing for her, I'd only have a week before I got kicked out of the choir. "Ok, I'll sing my favourite song." "At last," she sighed in relief, "Ok, in front of the microphone, I want everyone to hear this. I stood before the mic, raised it to my mouth level, cleared my throat, took a deep breath, then remained completely silent "Go on, sing." I remained silent. "You said you would sing, now sing!" I kept my mouth shut Suddenly, it dawned on her. "What's your favourite song?" She asked, almost defeated I answered her openly and honestly "Jasco, by Sepultura," I said, grinning from ear to ear. When my mother found out I'd been put in the percussion group, she wasn't pleased. All this meant was I had to hit Dad up for my pocket money for a month. He didn't mind, infact he doubled it when he heard the story. Within a week, I was once more extra-curricula free and safe from anymore compulsory volunteering. Although, that wasn't the end of the satanic bitch. She'd had a word to the school councilor about me, so I was called out of class a few times and forced to look at ink blots. I didn't mind, I already knew the answers they wanted to hear. And for no reason I could see, a large number of my fellow classmates started listening to metal.

Just because your forefathers corrupted your language in a bitter attempt at spiting a bunch of englishmen, doesn't mean you have to write anti-Uitic propaganda, using everyone's favourite caffeinated munchkin as a tool to further your Uist ends The revolution is almost upon yoU, my friend. Soon, those within your borders who embrace the Universe shall rise up against yoU, weakening your nation's resolve, preparing it for invasion from the U loving nations of the earth

At last, finally, access to the inner sanctum. Soon, I shall rise up the ranks until I have access to your government files and secret research laboratories, then I'LL RULE THE WORLD!!! AHAHAHAHAHA.. ahem I'd just like to say I accept your acceptance of my application in the spirit in which it was accepted... no wait, that wasn't it. What I mean to say is I wrote my application in the same state of inebriation as it was accepted. Half a bottle of bundy while watching the matrix was what it took to produce that work. To anyone who says there are no positive benefits of alcohol, I flip you the royal bird. That's right, my middle finger, extended, with a crown, that's right, a CROWN on the end. Wearing a regal robe. And holding a septre. Don't ask how, it just is, alright. Do I have to explain anything to you?

Aardvark Pronounced Gen-Oov-skee-luv-en-er-bleetch Long story All of it fiction

Well, we haven't done every single thing possible, have we? Well, no, but I'm not having sex with you, if that's what you're hinting at. You're like my brother, for Christ's sake. Arrgh!! Stop it! you're making my ears bleed. You are one disturbed, deranged little girl, you know? Yeah, I know. I've got the shrink's report and the prescription to prove it. Anyway, back to my original query, what are we gonna do now? We're out of booze and we've got several hours 'til the sun returns to the sky I dunno. Anything you wanna do? No, not really What say we go to a movie? And pay money to see either fake death or bad comedy? No, I've got better things to do with my money than waste it Like what? Spend it On? As if I'm telling you what I spend my money on. What are you, my mother or something? Ok, ok, calm down! It was just a suggestion. 'Sides, I don't hear anything better coming from you. That's because I can't think of anything. I'm bored, so the creativity centre of my brain isn't working. That's why I need you. To think for me when I've outthought myself So all I'm worth is the power of my thoughts? Yeah, pretty much Wow, I feel so respected You should. Most guys I hang around with are only there because I know their perfect features will make every other female in school jealous Are you saying that I'm ugly? No, no, not at all. I'm saying the only reason I associate with you is because I need someone around me who is more intelligent than me. Do you really think I could stay sane and well adjusted in the company of the meatheads I hang around with? Well, no... See? So what's the problem. You get to be seen in public with me, I get your thoughts, insights and wisdoms anything and everything. Would you rather I just stop associating with you? Well, nooo, but... So what's your problem? I don't really have a chance with you, do I? What do you mean? Well... I first started talking to you just because I had a crush on you. I wanted you. I was hoping at some point, I'd work the courage up to ask you out. And that's the only reason you started talking to me? Yeah, pretty much Oh... well... Well...? Well... I have a similar confession to make. Not quite, though. What is it? I've always admired you. Not just because of your brain, but because of your independence. You were the only boy I knew who didn't seem to follow the same set of guidelines as other boys Other boys? Yeah, you know? Act like total idiots, demonstrate acute cases of testosterone poisoning. Ohh... Yeah. You were the only sensible one. The only one I could talk to. the only one who was really there when I needed you. So why didn't... Well.... you were my safety man. The man I knew I could depend on for support. I didn't want to hurt you in anyway. That's why I never... Oh. So I wasn't good enough? Nononononono, you were too good. I just didn't want to lose you. Especially.... Especially what? Especially over... me What are you saying? I... uhh... love you.... but... But not that much? Well... umm....

I was kinda hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?act=...t=ST&f=3&t=8722

I almost cried, then I almost vomitted What is wrong with this world?

Sure, it was dirty, low and criminal, but it was easy and it beat working. The three had found the perfect ambush point. Not at all crowded, but people wandered through all the time. A dark alleyway that saved at least a mile of walking. And it was close to a business district, meaning the average wealth of those using this thoroughfare was higher than these three were used to. Mugging. They were making several thousand between them each time they worked the alleyway. And they didn't even have to worry about police. The alleyway was located conveniently in the no-man's-land between the two largest criminal families' territories where the law feared to tread. Oh, it was a beautiful find. One they would work smartly, too. Striking on random days, sometimes leaving week-long gaps so as to not drive people away completely. Their hiding spots were perfect, too. They could see everyone entering the alleyway and no one could see them. It was the sweetest deal. This night was perfect. A half moon low in the sky, giving enough light to make the alleyway look inviting, but not blow their positions. The three waited, hands gripping their knives. None of them had ever needed to use them. People were so docile that even the sight of steel was enough to make them drop their valuables and run. No risk profit. They loved it. They sat in wait, letting the first two punters through unharmed. This was the way things were done. Always strike the third. They didn't have to wait long. The third was on his way. The "leader" of the three, the one who delivered the ultimatum to the targets, sized up their customer. At first glance, he stopped. This one wasn't your average businessman. First off, he was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. In the middle of winter. Secondly, he strode with an air of confidence about him that the leader had never seen before. Thirdly, he was built. Not tall, not wide, just solid. A regular guy who toned his muscles to perfection rather than excess. Still, he was traveling alone and he was the third, so he was as good a target as any. And the leader had been itching to cut someone, of late. He didn't know why. When the target reached the alcoves that served as the bandits' hiding places, they stepped out, weapons drawn. The leader stepped forth and issued the time-honoured ultimatum that dated back to ye olde english days. "It's a simple prospect, my friend. Your valuables or your life. Entirely up to you, we'll get them either way." The target stopped, looked from the leader to his two sidekicks, then back. Then he shook his head. The leader watched the stranger extend his arms and flick his wrists in the direction of his two comrades. He then felt two gusts of wind on either side of him. Then he heard a sickening crunch. He turned to see the remains of his partners in crime smeared against their hiding places. They were barely recognisable. Nothing more than fleshpiles in clothes. As if their skeletons had been crushed into powder. He turned back to the target. The man was grinning stupidly. "Now, I offer you the same ultimatum." he said to the leader Without thinking, the leader dropped his knife, his phone, his watch, wallet, pendant and nosering. The stranger walked over to the pile of goods and crushed them into fine powder with the toe of his boot. "Now run." The leader didn't need further encouragement. He broke previous landspeed records to escape that alleyway and never returned. West stood in the empty alleyway rubbing his wrist. He'd flicked it too hard. He had to watch that. But it'd had the desired result and he didn't have to get his hands dirty at all. He gave crimefighting a brief thought, then decided against it. Wouldn't want to upset the balance of power in my domain too much, he thought to himself. Besides, he had more important things to worry about like- "Wonderful location you've picked for us, Mr West." West aboutfaced to see North grinning at him, pounding his fist into his palm. West returned the grin, then charged.

I watched the young couple intently from across the street. Just your average pair, fair genetic match, compatible personalities, but I could see the relationship ending in the future over something minor. She was absolutely devoted to him, but I could see his eyes wandering. Observing these mortals was a wonderful pastime. They lead simple lives, but do their best to complicate things as much as they can. One of the many quirks He gave them that puzzled me and other immortals greatly. But after six thousand years, they still surprised me at every turn. Well, today I hoped to gain a little further insight into their inner workings. And this couple would help me out nicely. Fate, it seems, has plans for them The deuce played by fate happened to be one of your average random maniacs who had somehow gotten a hold of a firearm. As firearms go, it was nothing to write home about. An antique revolver. In quite good condition, possibly from the care it's owner had taken before it had been stolen by this unhinged individual. The five rounds in the weapon were also antiques, but would prove to be in equally good condition. He was almost there. The pressure from his life of constant abuse was peaking. Soon, he would snap. Soon, the five rounds would be on their way. I got to my feet and hastily crossed the street. The report of the pistol was heard by all. An initial click as the hammer fell over an empty chamber, then 5 loud barks. The first four didn't concern me one iota. They wouldn't concern anyone at all. Well, anyone who didn't own one of the shopfront windows they would shatter. Or the driver of the car who would lose his rear tyre. But bullet number 5 had the young couple's name on it. Time for the test. Time.... one of the simplest forces to manipulate. I watched as the bullet slowly made it's way towards the couple, decelerating steadily and eventually stopping in midair. The two were in midturn towards the source of the noise. Neither had any idea what was to eventuate. The area was frozen. Well, truth be told, the physical universe was frozen. But only the physical universe that obeyed the laws of time. Which is only a select few regions. I walked over to the couple. Just as I'd thought. The trajectory of the bullet went right through the young woman's abdomen, missing the young man barely. It was time to put him to the test. I unfroze him "What the he-" he began before I covered his mouth. "Silence, Mortal. Listen to me." I began. I didn't feel the need to explain anything more than I had to. "See that bullet over there? If I hadn't stepped in, your lovely partner here would've been hit in the guts. Now you must decide, but decide quickly, whether or not you're willing to step in and take the shot, not knowing where the bullet will hit precisely or whether she'll survive. It's up to you." He took this in, looked at me, then the bullet, then his girl, then the bullet again, then made up his mind. He stood firm, facing the suspended slug, clenching his teeth and his abs, preparing to take the shot. I froze him in this position, then returned to my seat to watch things unfold. The bullet crashed into his stomach, tearing through his flesh and ending it's journey perilously close to his liver. He doubled over, clutching at his wound and fell backwards onto his woman. They hit the ground together, blood flowing freely from the wound, quickly soaking his shirt. He didn't see the gunman looking puzzled at his empty firearm before being tackled by a bystander, nor did he see several people rush to his side. His gaze was locked on his girl who was in a panicked fluster, still asking if he was all right. He lay his head back, smiled and let out a sigh. Then the pain set in. An ambulance arrived shortly, the paramedics onboard stabilising him as best as they could before loading him into the back of the vehicle. Normally, there are only two officers in an ambulance, but this time a senior officer from another hospital who'd just happened to show up for a tour of their facilities had asked to ride with them. Well, what can I say? I have a thing for a white uniform with red cross armpatches. I sat silently, watching the girl sob over her fallen partner. He still hadn't noticed me, possibly due to the morphine flowing through his system. I sat silently, watching. Before arriving at the casualty ward of wherever hospital, his girlfriend sat up, giving him an unobstructed view of me. His face flashed recognition, but he remained silent. My calm words filled his head. "So, you chose the noble path. Would you have chosen otherwise if you'd known...." In his mind, the event replayed. But from a different perspective. He was sitting across the street, watching himself. He saw, in slow motion, the bullet glide past him, narrowly missing his coat, then hitting his girlfriend's purse as she turned to see the source of the noise. He heard the loud chink and saw the now-deformed lead slug deflect off to the side. The last thing he saw was the contents of her heavy coinpouch spilling out the side of her purse. Bent shrapnel falling to the ground. A small price to pay for her survival, he thought. The vision over, he looked back at me. For a long while, he was silent. Then he closed his eyes, laid his head back and shook his head, once. Then he passed out. The experiment had left me with even more questions and queries. But then again, questioning His will was what got me ejected forcibly in the first place. Oh yeah, by the way. Hi, I'm Lucifer, widely proclaimed Prince of Darkness

*flips the bird*

6, 6, 6 I'm ballsy, I think I can incorporate the same goddamn sentence into the same goddamn story three goddamn times without punching holes in the fabric of causality

Damn you, linguistic bandit All ghosts can open screen doors. The ironic thing is they can't pass through them. They're like a ghost barrier that can be opened, thus making it pointless and a stupid ghost deterrent

Ummm.... you misspelled ghost, I think I dunno, I think I might've missed something Other than that, nice.... and ghosty Good point. excellent start. fixed spelling - Peredhil)

"If you could see into the future, when would you see to and why? Emma?" "Miss, I'd see ten years into the future." "Why do you want to see ten years into the future?" "I wanna know if I'll be in university, have a boyfriend, what he'll be like, where my friends-" "Very good, Emma. Now Jonathan, your turn" "I'd see fifty years into the future." "And why?" "I think I'll die around then, I wanna see how it happens, will it be old age, will it be cancer, will it be alien death machines from-" "Enough, enough. Very good, Jonathan. Now Michael, if you could see into the future, how far ahead would you see and why?" "If I could see into the future, I'd see three point five seconds into the future at all times." "That's not far, what can that tell you?" "Well, if I could see three point five seconds into the future, firstly, I'd see all mistakes before I make them. Every single stupid blunder, every faux pas, every time I trip over my shoe laces, I'll be able to see them and avoid the pain and embarrassment that comes with them. Also, I'd have the edge in heightened conversation, arguements and fights. I'll know exactly what witty retort my adversary is coming up with in his rotting gray matter and I'll also know exactly where his next punch is going to land, so I can dodge with ease." "Excellent reasoning, but don't-" "With this information, I won't need to know how I'm going to die, 'cause I don't want to have to plan for it or try to plan to avoid it. I want to be able to survive anything thrown at me in the short term, such as unexpected bullet attacks or maniacal terrorists." "Oh.... but what if-" "And three point five seconds isn't asking too much. It doesn't totally unbalance the universe in the way distant clairvoyance does. I mean three point five seconds, what can you do with that other than survive? And make sure those around you survive, too. It's not totally selfish. If I forsaw a knife attack on someone nearby, I could intervene and stop the attack" "Michael, that's- "So, in conclusion, three point five seconds clairvoyance is the superior choice, as it helps extend your life, bit by bit, rather than try to plan for the inevitable years away from the actual event" "I don't know what to say. You've really thought this one through..."

Once, long ago, there were powerful creatures who roamed the planet. Creatures of pure magic. Creatures of pure chaos and malevolence. Creatures known as Djinn. Using their corrupting magic, they were able to bend mortals to their will, enslaving their minds, making them serve the Djinn without realising it. Humanity was little more than playthings to them. This era of strife came to an end several thousand years ago, thanks to the actions of a man known as Suleiman. He waged a holy war against the Djinn, leading the righteous against their enslaved minions, imprisoning the mighty Djinn in lamps, bottles and other worthless effects. In the final battle against Malekeil, arguably the most powerful of the Djinn, Suleiman was mortally wounded. Although his forces won the day, binding Malekeil within an oil lantern, Suleiman didn't survive to see the conclusion. His followers constructed a grand tomb for him, out in the deepest deserts. Within the labyrinth of Suleiman was also hidden every single container, guarded by deadly traps and undead guardians, the remains of those mortals who fought against Suleiman, the corrupted ones. Over the aeons, the stories of Suleiman became legend, then myth. He went from a simple charismatic villager to a grand sultan, ruler of the seven deserts. The location of the tomb was lost in the mists of time, the tomb itself having been long buried over by the drifting desert sands. But nothing keeps pure evil buried for long. Four hundred years ago, a band of desert raiders happened upon a cave within the dunes. At first they were suspicious, as the sands were seemingly held into place by magic, but an unknown force lured them in. Once inside, they were set upon by the shambling remains of the Corrupted. Half fled the cave in fear, but half fought the undead with unnatural strength and vigour. Pulled on by an unknown force, they delved deeper and deeper into the labyrinth. Every turn, they encountered another deadly pitfall, arrow trap or unstable ceiling. More of their number fell, but at last, three made it into the final chamber, the Tomb of Suleiman. Before them was an alter. Upon the alter was an old copper lantern. Of the three, one stared longingly at the object, listening to the voices emanating from it. Another slowly approached it, intent upon claiming the beaten up device for himself. The third, however, was more levelheaded. He noticed the script carved into the walls around the chamber. He knew it was an ancient form of his own tongue, but he couldn't make out any of it. Except... Visions of battle invaded his mind. Fanatics battling zealots under the shadow of pure malevolence. The priests standing over the fallen Suleiman, rapidly chanting binding charms directed at Malekeil. The essence of pure chaos being sucked into the lantern. ... he snapped back into reality. His eyes went from the script to his stationary comrade to the lantern, to the hand of his entranced comrade reaching.... "Nooooooooooo....." A dry scream came from deeper in the chamber. All three looked and saw the corpse of Suleiman smash through his casket and begin ambling towards them. The awestruck bandit was suddenly gripped by pure terror. He couldn't control it any longer. He screamed. His heart stopped. So did his scream. The second bandit stared wide-eyed at the approaching horror, snatched up the lantern and turned to run. He was stopped by his own comrade, the levelheaded one, scimitar drawn and pointed at his throat. Noooo, this close, you won't win again... The icy voice filled the bandit's head. His hand, against it's will, shot up, knocking the drawn scimitar aside, then flew with unearthly strength straight into the chest of the bandit's former comrade. A sickly crunch was all that could be heard. The levelheaded bandit fell. But the thief didn't even notice. All he knew was the path ahead of him was open and escape was the best option. He ran, lantern in hand, from the Tomb of Suleiman The fallen bandit lay paralysed, staring at the ceiling of the tomb. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he was in a world of pain. He couldn't even scream in terror when the remains of Suleiman stood over him, a mouldy skeleton in ancient, rusted armour. He simply stared as a gauntleted hand pressed against his shattered ribcage. Then all was white. An instant later, he was on his feet, outside the tomb, fully healed. He stood face to face with Suleiman, a middle aged man with one eye, wearing tarnished, dented armour and carrying a bloodied axe, countless notches and scratches could be seen all over the weapon. Suleiman spoke, in his ancient tongue. But the bandit understood every word regardless "For your life, I charge you with a quest. Return the prison of Malekeil to this place. If the demon has escaped, you must hunt him down and imprison him. I believe you know how, my friend" With those words, the myth vanished. The bandit did indeed know how to imprison Malekeil. He also knew exactly where the lantern was. And it was no longer in the possession of his former comrade, who he knew now lay dead in the sands somewhere north. How he knew all this, he did not know, but he owed his life to the legend and he was a man of honour. He began his journey north.

Far too long indeed ICQ me, if I'm still on your list

Lifeseed 28 Planetologists Log Mission Date 640 SC Slightly under. Something must've interfered with the systems during the voyage here. Fortunately not too much, or I'd never have made it at all. A complete diagnostic is in order, but will take some time. Fortunately, time is something I still have. Still no sign of the tenth planet. The probes haven't detected anything at all. No energy signatures, no anomalies, nothing. Two of them have traced the tenth's orbit in both directions, but have found nothing. It's as if the entire planet simply vanished without a trace. Still, I'm worrying for nothing. Unless it materialises on the fourth, it shouldn't really impact with the project. Still an empty system. The subterranean scans on the moon of the gas giant did show an ocean, as I'd expected, but no life whatsoever. Infact, a distinct lack of carbon. Further scans of the third show that maybe it would've been the logical choice, if I'd arrived a hundred million cycles later. Well, no matter. It'll be the first offworld colony for my creations when they finally leave this world. Their development seems to have slowed some. Still going at a surprising rate, but nowhere near as fast as initially thought. I'd like to know what caused the burst of initial development, but it no longer seems to matter. The results from intensive scans are still inconclusive. I believe the time has come for a second seed site. This world is able to support life at the moment. Also, I need to find that catalyst. The seeding vehicle is ready. A few simple adjustments and it'll be ready to launch. Selecting a site shouldn't be a problem, as I have several already. Planetologist Smith Endlog Addendum Mission date 640.8 SC A simple problem, apparently. A disrupted chronomatrix. Realigning it was a matter of telling the computer to realign it, then conducting a test run in stasis, to ensure it's properly calibrated. Nothing else onboard the ship can really suffer from illtimings, except me. The vehicle was launched and the seeding went perfectly. I'm going to give this one 10,000 cycles, with the computer automatically pulling me out of stasis if another instance of accelerated development is detected. I may have discovered the fate of planet ten. A chance string scan showed a subtle disruption in the fabric of reality near 10's last known location. The only theory I can come up with is the planet somehow and for reasons unknown just phased out of existence. The orbital probes will be on the lookout for any such disruptions elsewhere in the orbital and throughout the system. It could possibly provide some insight into the first seeding's development, but I can't say I'm confident about that Planetologist Smith

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *out of breath* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH Umm... Hi there *runs*

Oh, the whole blasphemy thing Yeah, I kinda keep forgetting a whole bunch of people believe in god and all. Or lost someone in the whole terrrorism fiasco we seem to be only partway though. Or are just sensitive about death, violence, terror and the whole darker side of human nature. How about I put some kind of disclaimer on the thread or something of that nature? Warn people before they get exposed to my thoughts in their rawest form. Or something like that, anyway. It's been so long since I've actually cared about pretty much anything beyond getting from one day to the next without breaking down that I forget the majority of people are still living their sheltered little lives. The life I abandoned aeons ago in favour of this one of uncertainty Oh yeah, for Sci Fi, go take a look at Sentinal May have to go backj a while to find it now, though

Through the magic of cut'n'paste, I almost lost this excerpt. I now try, in my inebriated state, to reconstruct this in almost all it's former glory. Or something along those lines, anyway. Forgive the spelling, grammaticfal and punctuation errors. I am drunk and I'm using a mac for the first timesince the wonderful advance that is the internet was thrust upon us by our corporate gods and creators Lifeseed 28 Planetologists Log Mission Date 541 SC The computer needs recalibration. Although I'm not concerned about a mere forty years, a simple miscalculation could potentially cost me aeons of development.However, I have more important matters to attend to. The longterm scans of the various spacial bodies of the system have returned, I must sift through them , looking for anything that may aid in the project, even if in some minor way. Also, thje seeding site itself seems to be doing better than expected. Better, in fact, than any of the accelerated seedning experiments back during the Organic Origin experiments. So much better that anyone less thourough than me would proceed with a global seeding on the results of this seed alone. I, however, can't believe that life could evolve to this level at this pace without some form of outside intervention. Me, asides, of course Planetologist Smith Endlog Addenduem Mission date 541.4 SC The tenth planet in this system has dissapeared. Ordinarily, I wouldn't be concerned, but this happened in such a short space of time that it does. I've send probes to it's last known location and it's projected locations to try and find it or any trace of it, but they will take some time. Although it's probably a natural phenomone, I cannot afford to make assumptions at this stage. The possibility of conscious intent is always there and I cannot afford to overlook it. My initial opinion of the third planet appears to be flawed. Deeper scans have detected dihydrogen monoxide deposits deep within the crust. Although they're not in the form required, they still harbour the potential to support life on this planet. Not for the first time, I'm questioning my choice of planet. Combined with the accelerated development of the test seediong, I'm sure I must've overlooked some foreign catalyst in the process. Another probe reported the presence of large water concentrations on one of the moons of one of the gas giants in the system. Although it appears to be a frozen iceball inspace, deep scans show a magnetic field, thus an iron core. The probe was instructed to drill through the outer crust and perform internal surveying of the body. My belief is there may be water in liquid form under the icy crust. And wherever there's water, there can be life. My mission is to create it, but not where it can conflict with the natural order of creation The test seed has frightened me. At this stage, there should only be self replicating carbon chains. There are extended complex carbon chemical chains, all self replicating. There are lots of them. A veritible ecology has already sprung up in the small ocean I created. A basic cycle has formed and interaction between the molocules has been recorded. This is astounding. There is no sign of any conscioussness, but simple interactions seem to have formed. My chief concern is how out of place this is. This development shouldn't occur until the cellular stage. However, the larger concern iwhat caused the accelerated development I have.Nothing can evolve this fast. From a text book viewpoint, I am witnessing the impossible. Further scans have been scheduled for my next sleep. The results should provide some insight in another hundred cycles. Planetologist Smith Endlog

Lifeseed 28 Planetologist log Mission date: 0.05 SC One quick before entering stasis. It's been a good two months so far. My life out here won't be a waste, I'm sure. The seeding went off without a hitch, the delivery vehicle plunging into the valley as required, puncturing the surface and releasing proteins, amino acids and other complex carbon molocules into the underground well. It then released microbots into the surrounding ground to convert the carbon rich mix into something my creations could use to sustain themselves. Computer estimates show it should be 500 solar cycles before any confirmation can be made on the success of the test seeding, so my next entry should be then. Planetologist Smith Endlog

Lifeseed 28 Planetologist log Mission date: 0.0 SC I'm currently in high orbit of the target planet. The ship is prepped and ready for the initial seeding. A test location on the planet has been found, a rather lovely valley 8082KM north of the equator, directly on the line I've decreed the latitudal mean. Scans show this area to have the most surface moisture of the entire planet, with a subterranian well detected quite close to the surface. I've had to make adjustments to the biomatrix to compensate for the compisition of the atmosphere, but I believe it shall suffice. There are other locations I'd also like to testseed, but my resource are limited, so I'll only allow myself one. Probes of the planet and it's two lunar bodies showed no life, unsuprisingly, but I found a suspicious impact crater on one of the moons. Although scans showed it happened aeons ago, it did possess the attributes of a plasma weapon impact. No other signs of previous tampering have been found, but I'd still like to know what left that and why. Initial scans were confirmed by ground probes. The water content of this world is perfect. The polar regions have more than enough for the entire planet if necessary and the underground wells are almost ready to burst out and create entire oceans. The atmosphere is rich in various carbon dioxide and nitrogen, with oxygen and water also making up a sizeable portion of the mix. Not ideal, but I could work with it. Tests on the soils showed no potential toxins, so all seems clear for the seeding. The delivery vehicle is prepped and ready, just waiting for me to fire it. I'm still awaiting the results of a few atmospherical prediction simulations, to ensure weather patterns would take hold as necessary, but everything looks promising so far. Planetologist Smith Endlog

Lifeseed 28 Planetologist log Mission date: -0.2 SC The computer woke me from stasis too early. This wasn't too much of a problem, as it gave me a look at the system before I arrived at my target planet. Solar surveys would have to be done eventually, might as well get them over with. As this is the initial entry in the log, as is customary, I introduce myself as Professor Geffory Smith, BSc, Planetologist. As it is doubtful anyone from my species will ever see this, I make this recording for the future inhabitants of Planet 04 in System 008371, Galaxy 00029173. If you are the first to hear this, then this is a recording from your creator. To answer the inevitable question, the purpose of life is to continue life. You have no loyalties to your species, only to your basic fundamental structure. A cosmic fluke was life's beginning, it is your responsibility it never end. Although this seedship will be buried on the most distant stellar body in your particular system and probably won't be found before a reliable and effective method of interstellar travel has been discovered, at the end of this recording, the computer will provide visual instructions on accessing the ship's databanks. It is your duty to use this information to continue life before all else. Although remote scans had given the system an eighty five point three five yadda yadda chance of possessing a planet capable of sustaining an evolving ecosystem, I, like all sent on seeding missions, was worried. Seeding missions don't include a "Mission successful, return home" conclusion. Infact, it is unlikely I'll survive to see the end of my mission, even with the aid of the stasis pod. The computer has already selected a burial site in the event of my death, so all I need to worry about is if my project succeeds. The worst thing that could happen to me is upon arrival finding the target system totally unsuitable for habitation. Although in this instance, there were several other systems clustered near enough to me for me to travel if this one turned out to be unsuitable, they were all rated in the low forties and thirties. The best thing that could happen to me is if I arrived and found a thriving ecology already in existence. Unless it had achieved hostile spacefaring sentience. But the chances of this are so infinitesimally small that I never even thought of the possibility. I count 10 primary stellar bodies in this system, numerous secondary and also a band of debris that could have once been a planet, but further studies would be needed. The development potential of this system was high, with easily extractable mineral wealth being found on nearly all bodies in the system. This is only an interesting sidenote, as I wouldn't be needing them for my project. The fifth and sixth planets in the system are gas giants, their gravity wells and orbits being conveniently suited to protecting my project planet from any outside interference, in the form of rogue asteroids or particle waves. The optimal temperature band of the system encompassed three planets. Of these three, I chose the furthest from the solar body, as the range was perfect, it was nicely barren, an empty canvass for me to work on, and of the three, it was the best suited physically, the first being covered in a tumultuous chemical storm and the second lacking sufficient amounts of water. Although this wouldn't be too much of a problem, the polar regions of the fourth planet were sufficient for sustaining life and further scans suggested deep deposits of dihydrogen monoxide beneath the surface. I've sent out a cluster of space probes to gather information on all other bodies in the system, plus a dozen or so to scour the asteroid field. All probes primary mission is to seek out life already in existence. Actually, as far as I'm concerned, that's their only mission. Although, their findings will be an interesting read. 0.2 solar cycles left until I reach my intended destination. I plan to begin preparations for the seeding rocket now, so as to not waste any more of my precious time. I'll need every second of it, if I'm to see this project through to completion. Endlog - Planetologist Smith

The hell? How'd this get here? It must be some kind of gnomish pixy or something. Possibly a leprechaun or an elf of some sort. Yeah, that's it. Elves. Shifty little buggers. Learned it from the best, though. The fat bearded one who slides down chimneys. If anyone can teach an elf wile, it's Fat Nick. Goddamn kris kringle, the nazi arab, turning them into pintsized terrorists, sneaking into unsuspecting homes, opening up people's memories and pasting the first paragraph anna bit of their unfinished stories for all to read and steal. This was one of the many I started over the past... quite a while. Started, but didn't get very far. God knows how it ended up here, though. Although, I was pretty out of it when I started writing it