The Top Ten Most Disturbing Anime Characters: #6: Yami Malik

Oh look at me, distracting myself once more. Anyway, I brought this back to life it seems. As you can tell from the title, I'm and #6 and my number six is Yami Malik, and let me tell you why. First, let's look at the creepy little bugger.

(Yeah... nice tongue.)

I think I can safely say that he himself is batmonkey insane, and he doesn't hesitate to show it. Now, initially he was not like this (duh), and his 'light' sight is more cool and collected, and even nice. This other personality was formed due to extreme abuse from his father and an intense level of pressure put onto him as a child which eventually made him snap.

This other personality only came out two times in his life, once to deal with the lovely, lovely pain of having a tattoo forcibly carved into his back as a small child, and then when his 'brother' was put in danger when his father tried to kill him. And oh boy did this kid get his revenge. He skinned his father alive, and then when the normal Malik returned he had a nervous breakdown because he couldn't remember it. Yami Malik returned roughly six years later when Malik dealt with another extremely stressful situation where his 'brother' was almost killed. 

This lovely little Malik sees everything as a game, almost like a child, and gleefully takes his wins through force. In some way, he is a child (a deranged, insane child) as he has only existed for seven years and he has only experienced extremely traumatic incidents, so I think it's safe to say he'd go a little coo-coo. 

I feel like pointing out (just for you folks out there) that his hair probably doesn't actually spike up and veins don't actually bulge in his face when he comes out, and that's just the animators way of showing that he is the more dangerous personality and not the ordinary Malik. If we casually learned how to jump into other anime universes, he would probably look the same but his personality would be batmonkey insane. Just felt I would toss that out for you, but I can safely say it definitely adds to showing just how crazy he is.

This villain in undoubtedly the most unsettling out of the ones in the Yu-Gi-Oh series, mainly because he has no true purpose other than to cause havoc because he finds it fun. He has probably known nothing more than  people hurting him, so naturally he doesn't give a monkey bear about hurting them back. And if he beats you in a game, you go straight to Hell. Lovely, no? I heard the Summers were great down there.

Anyway, Yami Malik seems to be ultimately defeated by his other half, although we all know that he was most likely only defeated for a short while and the chances are he's going to be coming back once Malik let's his guard down, and let's just say he can kill with more than a Millennium Rod...

(I kinda actually wanna give him a hug... mind you, who said I was sane?)

Saiyuki Review

Hello minions who thought this blog was dead! It is I, Rinrei, back with a new review! If you put in the effort to read the title then you will know that I am reviewing something called Saiyuki.

Saiyuki is a manga series that was created between the years of 1997 and 2002 with recent updates occurring now after the artist and author recovered from a critical surgery. The author is Kazuya Minekura who also wrote the sequels Saiyuki Reload, Saiyuki Reload Blast and the prequel Saiyuki Gaiden. This series is focused on four main characters who are loosely based on the main characters of the Chinese classic novel 'Journey to the West' and focuses on these main characters as they travel across a world infested with demons gone feral aiming to prevent the resurrection of Gyumaoh and prevent the madness from further causing conflicts between the humans and the demons. On the way they face assassins, dangerous adventures, and their own tragic pasts.

First of all, I'm going to go over what I find good about this series. My first choice is the characters. Gosh darn these characters. To start with, they seem to have basic personalities that clash with one another causing conflicts within the group. However, as the series progresses, these characters develop greatly into characters you can't help but love.

Let's start of with Goku. Goku appears to be a very cheerful, happy-go-lucky moron who only cares about what's up for dinner and fighting. That's just barely scratching the surface, though. The truth is that Goku was sealed away for 500 years in a prison completely isolated from the outside world with no memories of his previous life other than his name. The main reasons for this are revealed in Saiyuki Gaiden and will undoubtedly wrench your heart out, stomp on it, and then roll it into a pancake. That whole series makes you cry because you know what will happen. In some way, this is the main reason you love Goku, because he can still smile and be happy.

This connection with the characters spreads not only to our anti-heroes, but to our 'villains'. Unlike most villains in anime and manga, these villains have a good, legit reason for doing what they're doing and you can really sympathize with them (except Gyokumen Koushou who you just want dead, but knowing this show she'll also end up having a good reason and you will probably feel bad about hating her so much).

This series is also very capable of pulling on your heart strings by making you really connect with these character, both minor and major, and when a character actually cries (a rare occurrence unlike some anime) you feel really uncomfortable. The number of times I just wanted to hug a character because of something bad happening to them is unbelievable. The way they do this is with the use of music (mainly in seasons other than the first season) and the fact that this really is a sad moment. At times, the voice acting can be really good, and it's the dialogue of a vast amount of the series that really gets to you; you can really feel their pain and that's what makes this series good.

Now onto the not-so-good parts of this series. I must point out that a large majority of this is due to the first season where the author and the animation artists were trying to understand where the story was actually going, but I feel that if you want to keep a good fanbase you got to make a good first impression, and I feel the first season did not pull that off as well as it should have.

The voice acting was not so pleasant in my opinion. Sanzo's voice was too high, Hakkai's too airy, and Goku's too forced. Now I won't deny this was only in the first half of the first season where the actors were trying to get their bearings (much like how the author was trying to figure out what to do) and this definitely improved in the Gaiden series, but it still made it very difficult to find realistic. The dubbing in the second and third season was better, but I still didn't like how Goku's voice sounded and I would have felt more comfortable if Greg Ayres had stayed and used one of his more realistic voices. Other than that, it was okay and the only voice actors I particularly liked were Gojyo and later on Sanzo.

Again, this is just the first season, but I found the animation and colouring to be incredibly poor quality with overused speedline backgrounds and cheap angle shots that made us feel less engaged with the show. The only real reason I didn't like the colouring was because they made Gojyo's hair hot pink. The half-breeds in this series are all stated to have red hair and red eyes and yet here's Gojyo with hot pink hair. It's just a nit-pick but I still don't like it. Fortunately, the second season clears this up for us, allowing for more realistic colours and better fight sequences that make us feel more engaged with the incident.

In the first season near the beginning, some music is used at the wrong time. The music itself is amazing, definitely something to get addicted to, but in the first half it is definitely used when not necessary. Again, this is fixed in the second season.

A final little nit-pick of mine is the sloppy writing of the first half of the first season. The dialogue seems somewhat forced and the flashbacks appear unnecessary and awkward when they are used. This gradually improves as you get closer towards the end of the first season and seems almost entirely fixed by the second season and only gets better and better. The show hasn't ended yet (considering the author only just got back onto it), but I can safely tell you it's going to be an epic ending.

So, we've finally come to our conclusion. Saiyuki is actually a very good show, and if you watch from beginning to end you can see it progress from an amateur series into something you can really engage with. The only thing that drags this series down is the first season, but good news is that you don't have to watch the first season to understand the entire show since almost none of the episodes are completely linked together (mainly because it's a journey series), so I definitely recommend avoiding the first season if you want a good first impression.

Overall, I give this series a 4/5. Good job!

Avatar: The Last Airbender (Movie)

It's been a while, hasn't it peasants? This is the almighty Rinrei back with a new review. This time it's on the monstrosity known as The Last Airbender Movie. This was created in 2012 by M. Night Shyamalan based off the cartoon series Avatar which is known as probably one of the best animated series of American culture, and with good reason. The characters are well-rounded, the comedy is brilliant, the music is fantastic, and the episodes are so intense you're either crying because it's so blinking sad or you're shaking because it's so intense. It's just that great a series. It was unavoidable there would be a live-action movie based on it.

First of all, I'm going to list what is good about the movie. Firstly, the costumes. Amazing work was put into it, costumes and they still maintain an Asian look whilst looking out of this world and just plain wazaam! Secondly, the SFX. I have never seen such good SFX in a movie before and the fact that the fight scenes are so skillfully done really do accomplish that factor in the fights. Thirdly, the sets. They look so realistic that one can't help but become absorbed into the series. The one thing I enjoyed from this movie was looking at the sets. It was done amazingly and deserves appreciation for that much.

Now... onto the bad part. While the creative side of things had been done wonderfully, the other half, including acting and the script itself... not so much. The people who played the roles of Aang and Sokka upset me especially.

Anyone who knows about Aang in the cartoon series knows that he's a happy-go-lucky, goofy little kid, as expected of anyone his age. He may appear childish, and generally carefree for a large majority of the series, but he does have a sense of maturity that later develops in the series whilst maintaining his cheerful attitude. The movie pushed this sense of maturity into a sense of cynicism with us almost never seeing him smile and him never goofing off. This, of course, upsets me for the fact that they completely got rid of the one thing that made Aang Aang.

They're even worse when it comes to Sokka. You can see that the actor tries to maintain his sarcastic role, but the thing is that Sokka is funny in his sarcasm. The actor... not so much. If there was one thing I would ask of the director in order to make the movie at least a little bit better, it would be to put in Sokka's goofiness. He may be serious at times, but overall Sokka is a typical teenage boy who acts stupid and goofy like everyone else. This was the one character that disappointed me the most.

Then there is Iroh. Seriously people he's my favourite character; what did you do to him? Not only has his appearance been altered, but his entire attitude. What happened to him?

I feel that if this film is to have any way of maintaining an audience in the slightest, it needs to at least consider fixing the characters. As a writer of scripts myself, the first thing I do is I keep the characters in character! This movie is like a terribly written fan-fiction! The characters have been mauled and the script writing has hacked up whatever good was in the series. Allow me to elaborate with just one scene and one alone.

The village. I feel that in this scene they attempted to combine Katara being stuck in an earth-bending prison and the Kyoshi Island. If you were going to combine the two, then at least stick it on an island! The whole purpose is that they are isolated from the outside world and thus have to battle on their own! Worst of all, the Kyoshi Warriors weren't even seen, and they are vital to the later series. Especially Tsuki. He will probably include her in the next movie, but the fact that he forgot about the Kyoshi Warriors here means that people will presume they were excluded from the series, and will result in just plain anger towards him.

The dialogue is clunky and this makes the acting wooden. Before he even considers writing the sequel (which he is interested in doing), the director better get his act together and work on his scriptwriting skills. If this sequel is to ever make us forgive him, he better fix it. And Toph better be her usual blind self. And Bumi better be crazy and have his funny snort. And... you know what? Just watch the series again. Watch the series again and realize what you did wrong, and fix it. And please, for the sake of the population, get the Kyoshi Warriors in there somewhere.

I give this a 3/10. This was a very disappointing movie, and the dialogue as well as the acting requires immediate attention.

That's Rinrei out!

Tweeting to the MAX

I realised something yesterday: I can put sleep on hold in order to allow things to 'go down'.

I'm particularly referring to yesterday's (last night's, even) bout of Twitter warfare. Recently, I gave in to peer pressure and started up a Twitter account, justified as it was by the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, I could build up some sort of following through which to diffuse news of my writing life. Insofar, I have a large number of spambot users, a great number of people I actually know, and some writers who can hold their own in conversation. Naturally, I pwn them all, but no matter.

It was as I launched myself into yet another fray that I seemed to reach the optimum level of Tweeting wittiness. (And those are the words of someone else, not me. It isn't just me being egotistical again.) This was, mind you, at 0100 local time - so just into today. I managed to sleep eight hours last night. Good going, for me. Unfortunately, just as I reached the peak of excellence, I was struck down by Twitter itself.

Apparently, there's a limit on how many Tweets any one user can post within a 24-hour period, because at 0145, it told me: 'You have surpassed the daily Tweet allowance. Ha ha ha.'

This was in itself hardly a setback - if I so wished, I could have set up a new account and gone on with it using that instead, but the debate had ended in my victory already - but it irked me that Twitter had stopped my ranting mid-rant. Just so that I could have a legitimate reason to complain, I branded this a disruption of free speech. This is, obviously, a severe and (supposedly) outrageous occurrence. To be forced to wait a further eight hours before Retweeting something... Ugh. It's truly awful. Infernal system.

What really got me was: "There's an upper limit!?" The idea that they could impose a limit on how much I could Tweet seemed a little ridiculous. Ridiculous, that is, until I realised just how much I had actually Tweeted within the space of three hours.

Suffice to say, my sixty-odd followers got a surprise when they next checked on their feeds.

I can safely say that I have indeed Tweeted to the max, and for this I bestow upon myself the antsy title of 'Resident Twitter User'. This is where I would self-advertise, but The Editor's just removed all of it. (Note from the Ed: You're welcome, Pixels. You knew that, when you returned, I would too.)

Goodnight, everyone. See? I told you that this blog wasn't dead yet.

Regards,
   Pisces

Too Long!

Too long, we have suffered in silence. Too long, we have done nothing against those who oppress us. But now, we rise up against them - injustice shall crumble 'neath the might of our swords, tyranny shall smash under the force of our hammers. And with these same tools, these tools that brought down an empire of evil, we shall build a world of peace and joy.

And that is how I return to AWDKOF.

Yes, I'm back, and probably not just for a brief stint. Gads, I forgot how much fun this whole blogging thing is. Here, pass me the joystick. I want to joyride this blog of mine around the universe.

Surprisingly, even without ANY of our authors' presence, the blog has been doing remarkably well. Not as well as when we had everyone and everything operational, but at about 60% normal capacity. This in itself is astonishing. People obviously get pulled in every day by the various keywords I place in pretty much every post I make - keywords I place in the hope that we do indeed pull in some people searching Google for a keyword or phrase. I've checked the stats. My favourite - and second from the top in the list of 'Most Searched Terms' - was 'screech owl'.

On that note, it has just turned 01:30 (going by the 24 hour clock) in Scotland, and that means that my bed is calling me back to its warm embrace. Also, Twitter decided to stop me Tweeting after I passed the 'daily limit for sending Tweets'. What the hell is that all about? A post for another time, perhaps.

Peace out, peeps, and, if I don't return - even though it's obvious that I will - have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Doll House Space Filler!

Seeing as no one has posted anything up and there is a very slim chance of me being well enough to go to school tomorrow (seeing as I fainted on my way into bed), I think it's time I post up a little something to fill the space. So I will. And it is a story. A particularly frightening story according to my English teacher, but trust me when I say I can do far scarier. Anyway, SPACE FILLER POWERS ACTIVATE!

DOLLHOUSE

  You know what I find really creepy? Dolls. There’s just something about them that always sets me on edge. Maybe it’s the fact that they look so realistic you are certain that they are alive even though they’re not made living flesh. Maybe it’s the emptiness in their eyes. They are painted and coloured in a manner that have a certain glow to it that emphasises realism, but not. It’s not just the eyes that creeps me out though. It’s the fact that no matter where you go, the eyes are always directed at you.

  There are some freaky stories about dolls as well. You know, apparently they’re supposed to be vessels for lost souls. Does that mean that in every single doll we buy, there could be the ghost of a serial killer or a dead terrorist?

  Dolls were the reason I hated going to my Aunties house. She had this fixation with dolls shown by the fact that on every single shelf she had in the house, even in the kitchen, there were dolls lined up next to each other. And no matter where you went, they would always be watching you. It was like something out of a horror story, and I always had that feeling of being watched whenever we went to visit.

  My Auntie herself was a lovely woman with a certain level of enthusiasm and cheerfulness that always made you feel right at home. Even if that home was full of evil possessed dolls. How she could bare living in that house, I never understood and probably never will.

  She rarely left her home, though. Or if she did, she never let us know. I know that she worked from home. I also know that she would order her groceries from the internet so she wouldn’t have to go to the shops to buy anything. It was as though she was afraid something horrible would happen if she was to leave her house.

  I remember this one time she bought a really strange doll that was almost my height with dark hair and eyes so pale you would swear they were white. I think it was this doll that started up my hatred for dolls.

  You see, my Auntie was never able to have children even when she was married. I think she bought the dolls to make up for this, but this doll was completely different by her standards. She loved it with a passion. She even named it Elliot.

  When I was little, she used to take Elliot over to the house and have me talk to him as though he was a living, breathing person. At the time, I was unaware that Elliot was not a human being, and I would talk and play with him for hours. I even heard him speak back to me, although now that I look back on it that was probably my imagination.

  When I was old enough to realise that I was talking to an inanimate object, my Auntie stopped bringing Elliot over, and soon she stopped coming over herself.

  Today was my weekly visit. I always had to come over because no one was certain whether she was alive since she never came out, and she didn’t have a phone either. I had stuffed my bag with my phone, some spare clothes, my toothbrush, and whatever else I thought I would need to maintain whatever sanity I had in me as I hiked up the hill to my Auntie’s eerie little cottage.

  I knocked on the door and entered before she answered the door. Shutting the door behind me, I was faced by the usual sensation of being watched by a number of hollow, blue eyes from every corner of the room. I dumped my bag on the sofa and walked across the room to call out to my Auntie who was undoubtedly in her tiny office.

  “Auntie Linda, it’s Lucy!” I called down the dark hallway. She always kept the light off for some reason… Auntie Linda scuttled out of her office, her red hair in disarray and her glasses squint on her face. She was always welcome for company, even if she didn’t enjoy the idea of leaving the house.

“It’s been a while, Lucy! How have you been?”

“It’s only been a week, Auntie Linda. Mum’s headed off for a little vacation away from home.”

“Oh, do tell me all about it. I’ll just go and get us some tea.” I nodded in agreement as she left the room. I just stood there for a moment, watching her leave. The entire time I was speaking to her, I felt the intenseness of the stares getting stronger, and now that I was alone I was left with no distractions to direct my attention away from the dolls that surrounded me so.  I resisted the urge to gulp as I pushed my bag aside and sat down on the sofa. I would just have to endure it, after all it’s not like it’s any better in the other rooms.

  “So, tell me, how’s your brother doing?” Auntie Linda asked me calmly as she lifted her tea. I watched her quietly, cautious of the small blonde doll behind her.

“He’s been a little unwell since he came over last week, so we’re giving him a few days to recover from whatever he’s got.”

“Hmm, it is winter, so he’s probably gotten sickness from being out in the snow for too long.” It sounded like something he would do, but he had been babbling about something strange before he got sick… something here had clearly scared him, although no one knew what it was.

“Yeah, I suppose so. He does tend to stay out with his friends too long…” My Auntie sighed and mumbled something about kids today. I also heard her say something about her child not doing such things… what child?

  I had a nightmare that night. It wasn’t the usual kind either. I was in the living room in my pyjamas  and it was deathly quiet. Everything had a red tinge to it, as though I was wearing red-tinted glasses. The dolls had come down from their shelves and had surrounded me. Their usual placid expressions had been twisted into that of malicious glee, as though relishing the fear I was clearly suffering from.

  But alike my other dreams, they did not move. They just stood there. If it had been real life, I would have ran up the stairs or out of the house. But I had no control of my limbs. I turned my head to the hallway door and began walking down the hallway to my Auntie’s office.

  I stopped directly in front of the door and stared at the closed door. Except I didn’t. In my dream, the door was see-through, so I could see directly into the room where my Auntie was sitting. And what I saw sent shivers down my spine.

  You know how I said my Auntie always had this doll that she treated like she would her own son? That exact same doll sat on her lap with its head rested on her chest as she spoke quite cheerfully to it. But that wasn’t what scared me the most. What scared me the most was the fact that the doll spoke back. I could hear its whispery voice as it mumbled replies to whatever my Auntie had to say to it. And all I could do was stand there and watch it.

  “Lucy came over today. You know Lucy; you used to play with her all the time when you were little.” They were talking about me? I heard a childish giggle emerge from its mouth. From what I could see, it was parted ever so slightly in a manner that would appear seductive had it been on a human being, but on this… thing I couldn’t help but feel frightened.

“I remember Lucy! She’s the one with the funny eyes!” It almost sang out in its ghostly voice. “I miss her… can we go talk to her?” I could do nothing to stop her from saying yes as she lifted herself off the bed, carrying the doll with her.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you!” She unlocked the door and entered the hallway, walking right past me and towards my room.

  It was then that I woke up. I could tell because it was now pitch dark and I was lying in my bed. I could wriggle my fingers, although the rest of my body was so exhausted I could hardly stand to move it.

  As my ears adjusted to the supposed silence, I could hear the stairs creaking as someone passed up them. That someone was my Auntie, and I knew it. My breathing hitched as I realised what I would soon be faced with.

  I knew that getting up and moving would be the worst thing to do. I pulled the covers over my head, like I would if I was five, and squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe I thought that if I curled up tight enough, I would disappear completely.

  I heard the door open as my Auntie entered the room. I didn’t move, afraid of doing so. Her feet gently scuffed the floorboards, as though she was afraid she’d wake me up. She sat down next to the bed. I could feel the icy coldness of the room as the covers were removed from my grip. I could hear her lifting the doll up onto the bed and placing in the gap between me and the edge of the bed. I could hardly breathe knowing that thing was right in front of me. The arm was placed over my shoulder and the covers put back in place.

“Have sweet dreams, guys. Mummy will be downstairs if you need anything.”

  I didn’t sleep after that. How could I? The doll said nothing, moved nothing, and did nothing. Nor did I want it to. It was while I was trying to avoid accepting the fact that this doll was sleeping right in front of me that I summarised that the voice I heard from the doll came from my Auntie. They never spoke over each other, and I heard my Auntie using that voice during a small pantomime she was in when she used to go out.

  It wasn’t until early morning when my Auntie came in again and removed the doll from my presence.

“We don’t want to startle Lucy, she’s always one to get surprised easily.” She said to the doll, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. I waited until I could no longer hear the footsteps before I let out a sigh of relief.

  I climbed out of the bed and ran to the drawer. I grabbed everything in my hands and shoved them into my bag in a careless heap. I didn’t have time to think of making it neat and tidy. All I wanted was to get out of here.

  I combed back my hair and tried to conceal the bags under my eyes with make-up. Holding back the fear I was suffering from, I walked down the stairs ready to leave. My Auntie was sitting in the living room, all signs of her previous madness gone.

  I held up my mobile, briefly showing all of my fear.

“M-mum says something bad has happened to Lucas.” I stuttered out the lie, resisting the urge to scream in terror as I spoke. A concerned expression appeared on my Aunties face. “I really need to get home to see how everything is going.”

“It’s okay, dear, I understand. Go right ahead, I’ll see you next week.”

  As I walked down the pathway, I noticed how grey everything seemed. How empty this household was. Clouds were rolling in, certain to result in snow or rain. I blew air into my hands as I tried to warm them in vain. I glanced back at the house for a moment, and saw my Auntie waving me goodbye. I lifted my hand to wave back, but I cut myself short.

  Behind my Auntie I could see the doll standing there. And it was waving. It was waving at me. And it was smiling. It was smiling… at me. 

The WriMo Journals: Day 1

November 1^st, 2012 - Day 1
November is come. The calendar is changed. The computer is booted. The coffee is brewing.

NaNoWriMo has begun.

So, it's the first day of NaNo, which means one of two things: a) I've begun my novel and am haring down the road to an all-but inevitable victory, or b) I've realised how truly terrible my idea is and have collapsed in front of the first hurdle. I'll give you a clue as to which I am experiencing right now. It's not a).
Yeah. My idea collapsed as soon as I started writing. This is rather a worry, seeing as my novel was pretty much planned and I spent three hours yesterday consorting with Wikipedia over how to generate names for Chinese characters. I think what went wrong was this: I woke up this morning and realised it was NaNoWriMo.

NaNo jitters are as simple and common an ailment as hiccups and the common cold, but they are the Black Death of the novel-writing universe. There is a simple truth at the centre of the universe (well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but you get me): if you doubt your own work, others are likely to doubt it too. I doubted my work. Therefore, I doubted myself. And when you doubt your work, you realise that it is difficult to motivate yourself to continue. So I did the only thing possible at that moment in time. I printed off the work I'd done - all 400 words of it (that bad, yes) - and set it on fire.

The ensuing debacle is not something I wish to share. This is, after all, a journal about NaNoWriMo, not about how I happened to set off the smoke alarm and burn a hole in the carpet when I spilled some obscure chemicals on the burning sheets. So I shall skip to my point: if one doubts their work, there are two solutions. First, you can do a rewrite, or even just reconsider your idea and run with it. The alternative? Destroy the evidence and get in trouble with the parents for almost committing unintentional arson.

Rest assured, I now have an excellent idea running - I'm continuing my novel 'Through Those Dark Doorways' and adding another 50K to that - and it's going swimmingly. I broached the first K-mark (i.e. I passed the 1,000 word milestone) and have the next 10,000 words planned in my head. My message to you: if it seems to be going badly, it's probably just the kind of day you're having. You just need to stick with it, and you'll make it. Trust me: this will all be worth it. You'll be glad you took part by the time December arrives.

Keep calm and novel on,

NaNoWriMo fanatic Professor Pisces, signing out.

Eyebrows, Nooses and Other Living Organisms

Top of the evening to you, fellow beans and ladies. It is I, the Emissary, the Lord. You may call me Bill. It has come to my attention that the Professor has been tardy, or rather, Obese. This presents a problem, for us bloggers need an idol, a figurehead to help us go on. Without our motivation, we may also become Obese. It happened to America, it can happen to us. The Professor will go down in the Blog’s pecking order until he is as low and as overweight as possible. That gives others the opportunity to overthrow him. But we shant. Hahahaha, I’m evil.

Moving swiftly on,  Resident Evil 6 is in stores now. So go ahead and grab yourself a copy. You’ll need it. We must have training for when the zombie apocalypse is at our doorstep. Besides that, it’s another installment in the series which isn't necessarily a good thing, for it went down hill faster than the Professor on a slope (he’s obese, remember?) Jokes aside, I’m sure it’ll have hours of zombie destroying fun.

So anyway, we are counting down the day’s until December. We all know why. For Armageddon of course. Personally, I don’t believe in such Mayan nonsense. But I’m always prepared. My advice: Stock up on Irn-Bru, pronto. If we’re going to die, we’re going to die with a smile on our face and Bru in our stomach.

In other news, it’s almost the October holiday’s! Personally, I’m not looking forward to it. I will be spending most of the time studying. You think exams end after school? You’re horridly wrong. I’m over 100 and I’m forced to study. I’m sure it’ll be fine though. Us intellectual types have learned to endure over time, we shall keep it that way.

I wish everyone a very joy filled holiday.

Au Revoir,

Bill.

Oh wait, this title is irrelevant.  

Filling the Space Again.

Since everyone here are currently being lazy sods (including the editor *gasp*) I've decided to post up a little comment. Today, I am going to see a movie that I can't remember the name of with a group of my friends in unknown numbers to see it at an unknown time at an unknown place. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. What if I meet a homicidal maniac in an ice cream truck looking like bloody Homer Simpson!? I'm sorry, I just naturally presume that a homicidal maniac owns an ice cream truck. Not sure why. Maybe it's the creepy music you hear from the truck; it sounds like a freaking mating call. Yes, the mating call of the ice cream man.

I'm sorry, that was rather cold-hearted of me. Oh what, no it wasn't! Not much to say here today, considering I've done bugger all for my entire week. I AM going to Tunisia though, maybe find some dead people (hey, it's not just Egypt that makes mummies).

I've also noticed how Atem from Yu-Gi-Oh is like the parallel universe version of Tutankhamen. Allow me to elaborate:

• His father decided to completely remove all the the previous gods and replace them all with one god
• When he came to rule at the fresh young age of 9 (it's implied with Atem) he returned all of the normal gods
• He died under mysterious circumstances at the age of 19 (definitely in Atem's case)

And here I was thinking that Atem's story was completely original. Urgh. I became a fountain because you disappointed me. Either way, at least the animation and music is good.

SIGNING OFF!

Rinrei

Obesity.

Yes, Obesity. More commonly known on this blog as utter laziness and, I'm afraid, that is my excuse. However, do not worry, I've had the laziness liposuction-ed out of me, mentally. Which means that, unfortunately, I am back. Kekeke (<- New signature, evil laugh). So, as a gift to you, I come with a story to share. It is titled 'Mogalman and the Brigands'.

Mogalman and the Brigands

Hi there. So the Brigands died because the Mogalman swallowed them with PURE OBESITY.


Did you enjoy that story? Good. There's plenty more where that came from, that is unless obesity differs. But seriously, I'll try not to go on another untold hiatus again. I'm just glad the good Professor allowed me to keep my position.

Now my fellow blogalikes, I have news for you. I'm sort of a Captain now. Not a Captain in the army, nor am I a noble, posh trading company Captain. I am a Pirate, a man o' the sea's. However, most of you stereotypical Pirates as horribly unhygienic, pillaging ruffians. Might I mention that every single one of you are wrong, well, we pillage, sometimes. But that's beside the point, we have good intentions.

Now it's time for me to begone. I shall return, though. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day. But if there's one thing a Pirate is, he is honest. I shall be back, Professor. Kekeke.

Billiam Harkin Hanselton

BARRELS!

Considering Pisces has written a post on what he is doing (i.e. excuses) I feel I have just as much right to do so as him. So, naturally, I'm going to be a lazy bugger and write a list (i.e. to do list so that I can't slack off and go on the internet for bugger all).

• Finish 'Future Talk' (three more pages)
• Finish 'Story of the Century' (two more pages)
• Clean chapter six of 'Abide in the Wind' (because the world demands it)
• Search e-bay for cheap wigs and a boat oar (unless Dragon really does have a boat oar and wasn't just trying to cheer me up)
• GET SOME DAYUM ACTORS
• Make costumes. (Yes, make. Life is becoming that difficult.)
• Interrogate Pisces about the completed script of episode one of YYH Live Action (do this next week after he's finished his essay)
• Plan chapter two of 'Future Talk' and 'Story of the Century' for next month
• Start story for Writer's Group (first chapter done)
• Update 'Alice Human Sacrifice: The Tale Brought to Life'
• Update 'The Death Defying Marion Parker'
• Update 'How NOT To Write A Kuroshitsuji Story'
• Update 'Demon' ASAP
• Edit out chapter three of 'The Black Firefly' for Bill then send it to her
• Begin looking for locations for scenes for YYH Live Action
• Start listing props
• Design digital backgrounds
• Complete personal experience (for Thursday)
• Complete Psychology Homework
• Begin searching for clip-on microphones and extra cameras
• Once getting the script, announce the official one on the group
• Then update images on group to show what we have and what we need
• Add more money to the budget out of lunch money (in future add birthday and Christmas money)

And that all has to be done within the next week and a half. No pressure then. So, with that thought in mind, I have a perfectly good excuse for not being online i.e. I have a lot on my plate, stop bugging me. 

Now everyone else...hmm...I'm not sure about Evil who hasn't been online at all for donkey know how long and Matt is just lazy. Bill has gone ahead and blown up and no one knows where the Editor is. So it's just Pisces and I. Sorta. We're both completely overloaded with work, so that's making things awkward for us.

BARRELS!

Rinrei

What am I up to?

I was rather hoping that someone else would have posted by now, but I am sorely disappointed by my fellow authors. I can see where this is going... I have to yell at Evil. She has nothing of significance to be doing; she should be posting too. EVIL! Rest not upon your laurels!

What the heck am I doing in my spare time? Pretty much nothing, actually. I'm writing a short story, playing chess online, answering emails and finishing off essays and whatnot. Oh, and making music with the guitar. The Professor rocks... Literally. Writing solos is pretty good fun; aye it is.

I get the feeling that this is probably a very boring post. That is because it is. I shall have to do something to spice it up a little. Oh, look... what's that? Is that a... Mine Tutle?

There you go. Enjoy the awesomeness of the Mine Turtle.

September 2012 Update

Literally nothing has happened last month. Trust me when I say it: Everyone has been being ridiculously lazy. Even me. Yeah, as much as it is hard to believe, I have not been blogging half as much as is necessary over the last month. Hopefully, this shall change. But I had an excuse.

Camp NaNoWriMo, that most wonderful of wordy challenges, that lexical frenzy of literary abandon. I was busy writing another 50,000 word novel last month, and as such had little time to spare for the blog. This is in many ways unfortunate. It means that I can't shout at everyone else for being so much less than productive, simply because it would be hypocritical to do so. But this is a new month. I can shout now. It's a new month.

So, what about September? Well, this September will mark the Kettle's first birthday (!). As such, we'll be doing some stuff for that. I have ideas. Not that I've shared them yet. It's coming to me slowly.

What else is there? Well, I may just start writing some reviews and snarky posts about the new series of Doctor Who that started the other day, and undoubtedly someone shall moan about the dawn of the new school year. Boo hoo, I say, roll on the exams.

It should be clear to you that we are well and truly winging it this month, with no particular plan or schedule in place. But let's face it: we've been winging it for eleven months so far, and we now have a ridiculous number of views. It's worked so far. Why not continue with that ideal?

Regards,
   The Kettle

Lump of Clay

Today I decided to be slightly creative and explored the unexplored pits of my house, hoping to find a secret door or potentially a closet that would lead to Narnia. Highly possible considering the noises I hear in my brother's wardrobe when I decide to enter the abyss known as his room.

Anyway, while I was off on my exploration with an Indiana Jones hat, I came across many new entities I had not seen before. A perfect example of this is the massive spider in the ventilation that I have discovered is actually deadly. I have named him Mario due to his overall fatness.

When I decided to go outside I came across a small brown mouse living under our shed who I named Charles in memory of a previous mouse I found while hiking up the hill behind our house who was tragically killed by a cat. 

It was after returning from the shed and naming our Buddha statue Bob that I decided that I would explore the cupboard because, you know, that's what you do when you're bored out of your wits. So, I opened the cupboards and found something that left me in so much shock that I fell to the ground and died. Luckily, I came back to life. 

In the pits of the lower cupboard in my barely used kitchen, I came across three kilograms of the most sacred material known to man: Clay. Coming across such a thing was so amazing that I instantly took the massive, unused bricks of clay and returned to my room, dreaming up crazy designs and acting like a typical, obnoxious five-year-old, mumbling madly to herself about what monstrous things she could create.  

However, after half an hour of having this brick of clay in front of me, I am yet to do anything with it, and for some reason I feel as though I won't be doing anything with it any time soon. I remember, just before going on the laptop, that I saw this lump of clay and asked myself: What was I about to do with that? Before suddenly bursting out with: Holy Ra! It's a lump of clay! And repeating the whole incident again. 

I think I just might be turning into a Dalek like Amy was with her memory vanishing. Yeah, that's right, I watched Doctor Who for the first time in my life yesterday. Come at me.

SIGNING OFF!
   Rinrei

Curtain Call Coming Close...

NaNo's in its final stages: I have three full days left in which to write 9,000 words. That means that I'll have to write over 3,000 words a day on average to level with NaNo.

This is somewhat easier than you might think - especially when you're following a particular plot, theme or story of some sort. the thing is, once you get into it, it's pretty easy to write, write, write until a stairway to heaven appears or somebody saves your work and then tells you that "You have to get on with some other work now, Pisces, or you'll die a slow death of Word Poisoning." To which I say: Pah, I'll die sometime.

It became apparent to me several days ago that there's a real difference between saying that you'll write 2,500 words and actually doing it. When you think 'two thousand five hundred words', you (as a writer) think: OK, that's a pretty big number, but I can do it. But then you realise, when you put pen to paper, that it's a statistic. And statistics never truly embody reality.

So, I have 9,000 words to write in three days. Lovely. It's a statistic though, and that means that the reality is probably much different to whatever you're imagining right now. Unless, of course, you are a writer. In which case you should know what I'm banging on about by now. Please tell me if you understood that. Jane, perhaps? Are you enlightened? Bill? Matt? Evil, even (despite the fact that you only write when required)?

Maybe I'm going insane, but it's in the job description.

I have near enough 10,000 words to write. I must FLY...
   Pisces out.
      Flap, flap, flap...

Where Can I Buy an Agent?

With exactly 34,000 words of my novel now under my belt, I'm starting to think about the possibility of getting an agent through whom to get help with publishing. This being the fisrt full-length novel that I think might be finished, I'm quite keen to get expert opinions on it and such. But the question of an agent remains. Where can I find one?

Agents, when applied to the business of writing and publishing, are generally used to organise meetings with publishers, send off manuscripts to publishers and promote the author. This can, naturally, all be done by the author if they so wish, but most writers would rather be left to get on with the writing side of things. Personally. I think I might be able to handle all this stuff, but I'm still only a teenager. I doubt publication companies would take me seriously.

The problem is that you can't simply walk into town and grab an agent. You have to make them want to work for you. This is slightly annoying, as it means more work for me. It may just be simpler to grab an agent some other time and do it all myself for now.

The next annoying thing is that agents cost money, and money is not exactly something I am swimming in. The plan is to make my fortune writing novels, scripts and screenplays etc., but until I actually have money in my accounts, I can do diddly squat. So basically, until I catch a publisher by the neck and manage to steal a contract from his (or her) pocket, I'm stuck without money and without an agent. I think I could afford perhaps ten minutes of an agent's time.

Perhaps more concerning is that there are good agents and bad agents. But all of them are secret agents: You have to know where to look to find them. Then you have to gauge whether they're any good or not. Me being me, I can't do that. I think I shall have to inquire as to what to do, taking help from published authors and perhaps published authors' books on how to get an agent. Good golly, this is all a little larger than writing something brilliant, now isn't it?

I'm off to try and write more of this novel of mine. If I can finish it, it'll be rewrite time. If not, then everything I'm saying now will be next to pointless and I'll have a disappointed Danjo, an enraged Reemma and a genuinely broken me to deal with.

Writing for my life,
   Pisces

Bossing Folk About

It's easy to boss people around. Just look at your superior at work, or a teacher in school. They boss you around all the time, and frankly, it's easy. But there are few times that anyone beats the best of boss-around-ers. Who are these people? Simple.

They are called directors, and they are the proverbial bomb.

Directing in this sense is applicable to the field of producing films. A director for a film basically organises everyone and yells at the folk who get it wrong and hands out the cookies to those who do it right.

I love to direct things, especially my own short films that are taken from scripts or short stories. Why? There are two reasons. Firstly, I ususally have a good idea of what's going on in my head when I write something for a film. And second, I enjoy being in control.

Yes, I'm a bit of a control freak, but not all that much really. I mean, there are worse people for control and stuff, etc. But I'm pretty bad when it gets down to writing. Possessive apostrophes! Formatting! Correct placing of commas! It's all essential to me, and it freaks everyone out. But don't worry, I'm not as bad as, say, The Editor. (Note from The Editor: I concede your point, but need I remind you that I could kill every post you've ever written and replace it with a .gif of you making a silly face?)

If ever I am published, I will have the sorry soul who edits the thing list every single change they make as they make it, and I will compare the original and final documents VERY closely, then hand the better one to The Editor, who will then proceed to finalise it and somehow insinuate himself in it as a very minor character. (Don't think I didn't spot that trick with my story about the leaves that ate the cat, I know the little garden gnome sported exactly the same features as you do.)

I love to direct films: to tell people how to say a line, to get the cameraman in position, to tell people that their hair isn't exactly right and no, you cannot wear those shoes with those trousers, you must wear Wellington boots in this scene, as you shall be tramping through a thicket and I know for a fact that Wellington boots are uncomfortable. This is all your fault, you tried to defy me earlier. Sweat it out. Literally. It stinks, yes, but, my good sir, YOU shall be the stinky one soon. I know how your feet exude.

It is brilliant to be the conductor of this something, to rewind and replay scenes, to see everything knit together into a whole or, in some extreme cases, a hole. And when I sit in that chair and watch the final edit play before my eyes, I know what went into it, what memories it brings back.

Directing is the ultimate joy, and that's why I direct all my own films.

What I Hate, Right Here, Right Now

You know what I hate? Rewritable files. Files that can be rewritten. Why, you ask? Because I've gone and bloody rewritten one of them.

I had a perfectly good NaNoNovel going, 'Seeing Red', it's called. Today I decided that the laptop would be the device to use so that I could wander around the house and still work. All's well. I use the pendrive to transfer the 23,000 word file to the lappy. I sit in the living room and listen through three albums of Rush, finishing off a thousand-word section in more time than I'm strictly happy with. And then what do I do? I take it back through to the PC.

Plug in pendrive, open my PC's desktop. Oh, my old file's still up on the computer. Hit 'save'.

Instant rewrite: Way to murder a thousand words.

Now I have to write the same thousand words AGAIN, and I'm fizzing. Fortunately though, my novel goes on the theme of anger and what people do when angry, so perhaps I can channel it.

Spuff happens. we just have to learn to use a little plastic bag to pick it up and put it in the bin.

I'm Completely Insane! (That is all.)

Today I had one of those 'WTF' moments as I went on DeviantART. Rinrei here, by the way.

The day before, I decided that I was feeling particularly crazy while typing stuff on my computer in the middle of the night. This single thought went buzzing through my head as I was searching DeviantART. This thought remained in my head until I was forced to type it up. I was given no choice but to leave my thoughts to the mercy of the crowd.

This idea, no matter how ridiculous it sounds, was to create a live action series of Yuu yuu Hakusho (Spirit Detective). I'm not really sure why I thought of it, but either way, I got a response. Actually, I got a lot of responses.

This morning, I decided to accept my failure and went on to see if anyone actually cared about the idea to get a swarm of "Do it!" and "This will be epic!". For a moment, my heart stopped (and I fell to the ground and died). These people wanted me to do something that a movie producer usually fails at. Naturally, I was pleased.

Until reality decided to kick in and say:

"You know hardly anyone and most of the cast are males, don't you forget. Besides, it's not like people would actually be interested in taking part in this for you. I mean, live action, seriously? Do you know nothing about the world? Then think about the money. How many places would you have to pay to go into and how much money would the costumes and make-up cost? And the wigs? Most of the cast have weird hair colours anyway. How would you manage to pull off Botan flying in the sky and Yusuke being a ghost? Answer me this."

Yes, reality is a real jerk. I kicked him over a cliff, so that's one problem solved, but the main problem is still at hand. I'm saving up money as we speak and hunting down good locations. Sure, there aren't very many people I know, but my family is massive, so I'm sure to meet someone that can pull off the role at one point, surely?

Yes, I am going through with this. My sanity was burned and buried long ago and I'm already asking people if they would like to take part. Oh my, this might end badly.

Gold fish!
   Rinrei

That is to say...

Hello. This is Matt. Most of you have probably forgotten me and those of you who haven't probably weren't around to begin with. Sorry for taking so long; I've been caught up in a lot of shut up I don't have an excuse lately which severely impacts the time I can spend doing much of anything at all. I'm lying. Don't listen to a word I say; I've had plenty of time. Everyone should be playing the Binding of Isaac.
     Age. Epoch. Period. Era. Eon. SUPEREON! Sorry dinosaur fans; palaeozoic is the best. Care to disagree? You're wrong. Why?

Hey, kids! It's the squid fairy!

     Goodbye children. I may or may not post something of substanceat anypoint in the future. But for now, accept your demon flatfish and I bid you farewell. Ish.