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Huzzah!

Good lord I still remember the first time I saw that. Gone are the days of the ilk of hamster dance, and Joe Cartoon.

Splendid!
I think some of the rockiness comes from misinterpretation of one another. When you said the rye or the kaiser, I responded, or the wheat or the white, maybe I can suggest an appetizer. You see, I was continuing the song. I know that particular weid al jingle from AMV hell 3.
And I apologize, i did fubar 7 bad, and I knew it. I tried to make up for my lack of know-how with sheer enthusiasm ^_^

The rest is inexcusable, I understand now; as i said, I wish i would have done my research a bit better, as opposed to cannoning myself into this.

Rustcrust
Rustcrust@gmail.com

heheh. Forgive my lack of eloquence, I'm quite taken aback. I saw my post update and expected a text-based beating with rebar.

Saved!

6. My favorite book... Ah, how do you pick the one strand of scent in an eclectic bouquet that most pleases you? Reflexively, I want to name something by Robert Heinlein; however, I must lay the title to the hat book, by Dr Seuss. The very first book I ever read, at the age of three. That book is the basis for much of what I do today, having primed my developing mind for a world of infinite shapes, colors, and non eucledian hat-physics.

7. Hm. An intimidating question, but I beleive I have the answer. Assuming I interpreted you right, I ought position my ship a measureable distance away from the planet. The reasons vary: In the dead of space, which assumably is a short jaunt from the planet, one would find it much easier to dock two vessels than doing so whilst running circuits round earth, not unlike eagles mating. That considered, it is entirely feasible that I shortened the length of time to wait for the other ship, unless it comes not from the inky void but from around the planet or somesuch. If the wait is still noteworthy, I maneuver to the 'Captains Quarters' in preparation for docking. It can not be good manners to be dancing after the (presumably) lengthy docking procedure.


8. Ah, with this question you have given me the 'golden ticket' my friend. In saying that my five words of communication can be translated into any other medium, better to understand me, why then I would express myself with complex, heartfelt enunciations, made of complete gibberish to any but myself, but each of the five bearing with it a lifetime's worth of meaning. When translated and distributed everyone would invariably receive the words etched upon my soul, regarding life, love, art, humanity, and squirrel appreciation.

9. The answer requires a bit of thought, yet I can definitively say that assuming the final solutuion in computers, I would wish every one and zero making up my mind, memories, body, and whatnot to be digitalized. In this day and age, even, the moment something touches the digital world, released into the sea that is the internet, it becomes effectively immortalized. Assumably with the technology to upload me into a computer, any so silly enough to want me back need only extract what they need from my file and give it an organic base. Not recommended though, one picks up nasty things on the internet.

10.The most poetic phrase I have ever heard? Hmm. The most thought provoking yet beautiful. Let me see..
Ah, this IS fortunate, because now I DO get to reference Robert Heinlein:
"By cultivating the beautiful we scatter the seeds of heavenly flowers, as by doing good we cultivate those that belong to humanity."


I hope I reach your expectations, Xepher.
I am thoroughly enjoying this question-and-answer session, as it is not everyday people ask me a question with no other intent than to weigh my answer.

Ah i see. Again, I didn't mean to threadjack.
Thank you both.
While I'm at it, Data I love your Avatar. Hellsing is a godsend to good dialogue, vampire, and wide brimmed hat enthusiasts.

Xepher, was... that a direct comment to me, about my chance to reapply in lieu of telling me in my own thread? I am a bit unclear on that (Addendum: Rescinded). Personally, I would consider the challenge a chance for bonus points to their overall applicability (Is that even a word? Hmmm.) as opposed to an opportunity to detract. Of course, as is often the case with me I should have done my research better.
Either way, I respect what you do here.

'Scuse... I don't know if it s my place to comment on this, or even my right to post in the thread, but I would appreciate an on-topic discourse. Is there any sort of... renewal period, possibly, within which one could make another stab? Mayhap in a period of your choosing, Axle could become better acquainted with what you ask, develop some ideas further, and make a more acceptable presentation. An artist of any sort should always strive to improve themselves with each stroke of brush or pen or key, and it would be a shame to deprive a fully developed creative a second shot. Sorry, I went on a bit.

It is not hard to see this particular section of the forum is fairly inactive; but possibly, i wonder, some new material will breathe new life into it. With this in mind I present to you one of my older shorts, but one of my favorites nonetheless. While I have a personal rule against writing or reading fanfic, this is loosely based on monster hunter. Please, share your thoughts.

The morning sun rose lazily over the horizon, in the manner it was most accustomed to. Being set in it's ways, it was unlikely to change on a whim. The light trickled through the verdant canopy of the jungle, soaking into the thick vegetation lining the ground. Such gentle metaphors were lost upon a monster hunter named Jak, as he struggled to shield his eyes from it. Tasked with slaying a mating pair of wyverns, he envied the role of his partner and wife. Jiajina preferred blades to bowguns, and so served no purpose scanning the skies. Thusly the arduous job fell to Jak, and he strained himself to peer between the hanging foliage.
The brush rustled to his left, and he reflexively unslung his bowgun from his shoulder. He bent his knees, and squinted his right eye. By now gunnery was as breathing to him, yet he still felt uneasy. On numerous separate occasions, they had prevailed against either variety of wyvern. This was no routine hunt, however. A mating pair provided increased risk from more than numbers. The already feral wyverns became even more intensely raged, when defending one another, or in this case especially, a nest.
He re slung his weapon and called to the disturbance.
"Find anything, honey?"
"D'ohh! how did you know it was me!"
"For starters," he hugged and kissed his wife as she emerged from concealment, "Wyverns don't giggle when stalking their prey."
Jia sighed, "There's tracks everywhere, but i cant find em. I'm really starting to get pissed."
"We should get packed up and head home," Jak sighed and fiddled with his ammunition belt. "I should have brought more basic shells. I'm fully stocked on explosive rounds, but I'd feel better if we tried this again with piercing rounds..."
The slender female hunter pulled her crimson hair back, and placed her helmet atop it. She was frustrated to have gotten up so early to search for the troublesome pair. She sighed, and let her shoulders droop.
"Let's at least check the cliff face. If we cant see them from there, then i just don't know."
Jak's face portrayed nothing if not displeasure at the thought.
"Odds are the nest is up there somewhere... we could be walking into more trouble than we like."
"You don't like any trouble, you big wimp. I know you didn't pick up that bowgun because you like being close to the action."
Her husband's response was merely to begin walking toward the mountain, an ominous spire of rock blemishing the uninterrupted green of the jungle. 'It wasn't always like this...' he thought to himself. 'She used to listen to me... used to admire my experience. I hope she knows what she's getting us into.'
The couple reached the mouth of a cave, a black mouth at the foot of the mountain. They proceeded in silence through the damp tunnel, illuminated only by the glow of luminescent fungus, and the torch Jak pulled form his pack.
"No wonder you don't have any ammo, you're loaded up with other junk!" Jiajina snapped at her husband.
Jak mumbled to himself, "At least i thought to bring one..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No. What did you say?"
"I said i love you. Jeez, we're finally there," Jak dropped his spent torch in with a light splash and stepped out of the cave, to peer over the lush landscape.
"Love you too, you liar." She raised the visor of her helmet and kissed her companion. "Sure is lovely out here."
"Yeah.. i just wonder where... the wyverns..." he trailed off. They had both seen the shadow pass over them, and they craned their necks skyward.
The female wyvern announced her presence with a deafening roar that would have split the ears of a novice hunter. Jak pulled his bowgun from its place on his back. Casually he browsed the shells arranged on the belt slung across his chest. Eventually he settled on a fat, cylindrical round with a flat end.
"Aren't you going to use a blasting round?" Jia demanded, "you always use those to ground them"
"And have her roll down this mountainside? Cant get decent materials off the beast if she breaks every bone in her body...." Jak pulled a slider on the body of his gun, and slid the shell in. "Hopefully this pellet shot will perforate her wings enough to force her to land... that's where you come in."
His wife unsheathed the twin razor-sharp swords from their sheathes on her back. "I like that part," she giggled, her pleasure palpable, even concealed beneath her helmet.
"Just watch out for that tail, honey... i don't want a repeat of our last scare." Jak followed the wyverns flight with the tip of his weapon, waiting for it to come in range. "I nearly lost you to the poison. "
"Don't worry so much, Jak. "
As they watched, the wyvern ceased to circle above them, instead choosing to alight on a larger outcropping several feet away. It roared again, in a manner the married hunters knew was an attempt at intimidation.
"Found it's nest."
"Congratulations."
"I'm sick of waiting. I'm going after her!" Jia ran and sprang from the cliff, grasping the adjacent ledge and scrambling to her feet.
"What are you– hang on a damn minute!" Jak screamed after her, frantically manipulating the mechanism of his arm. "I need to change shells! i don't want to risk hitting you! Goddamit girl you're going to be the death of me..." He muttered the final bit under his breath. At the expense of his expensive pellet shell, he quickly fired his bowgun behind him with one arm, silently enjoying the recoil minimizer he secretly financed. Meanwhile his wife was toe to toe with her winged foe, nimbly evading being clamped in it's massive jaws. The giant wyvern stepped back several feet, nearly to the edge of the rocky foothold.
"Look out!" Jak cried after his love, as he hastily looked for a shell to suit the situation, "The tail!"
Unlike previous ventures against the deadly lizards, Jiajina was well prepared and light on her feet. Her lack of excess supplies allowed her to roll easily to the side as the wyvern flapped its massive wings. The great monster lifted into the air but a few short feet, and flicked its menacing barbed tail toward Jia. She threw her head back as the venomous limb sped through the space she occupied just prior. The wyvern hovered momentarily, enraged that its tiny pest was still alive.
Jak frantically loaded his strongest burrowing explosive round, essentially a long, sharp drill, stuffed with gunpowder and ignited by the firing mechanism.
He knew a good opportunity when he saw it, as the wyvern's underbelly was exposed by its prior attack and his wife quickly taking shelter behind a rock.
Jak stood into firing position, and braced himself for the recoil of the powerful round he had prepared. He lifted the 'gun to aim, when he became aware of an ominous shadow falling over him.
The next moments seemed slowed to an eternity, as the male wyvern descended upon the unprepared gunner. He saw his wife scream, though all he could hear was the rushing of wind as the uninvited guest swooped upon him. He spun toward his attacker, in an attempt to get a shot in, but failed to raise his weapon as he was struck heavily in the chest by the wyvern's tail. The wind quickly exited his lungs, as the shock of the impact threw him against the cliff face.
His torso burned like fire. Blood spouted from the fist-sized hole in his light armor. Jak's entire body relaxed upon connection with the wall, and he held onto his weapon only through the custom clasp that served to limit recoil.
He knew not if his eyes were closed, or if he was blinded by the pain he suffered, but Jak blinked his eyes furiously, trying to focus. Through bleary vision he saw the approach of his rust-scaled nemesis. It's mouth was open, ready to finish him with a bite that could bisect a horse. He raised his arms weakly, and with all his might pulled the trigger on his bowgun. The recoil was immense, and as light flashed from the barrel, his arms snapped back into his face, and he slumped to one side.
The shell sped through the air at a speed untrackable by mortal means, burying itself beyond recognition into the waiting mouth of the fearsome male wyvern. There was a pop, and a bang which echoed for miles, silencing the normally vibrant sounds of the jungle. What remained of the monster tumbled backwards from the cliff, quickly disappearing from sight.
Their fight completely forgotten, the female wyvern and Jia each sped toward their fallen companion. The surviving wyvern dove from the cliff, as Jiajina, spurred by adrenaline and horror, easily cleared the gap. She ripped off her helmet, and let her weapons clatter to the ground, crouching to cradle the limp body of her husband. She held him close, and let the tears run easily down her face. "No..." she sobbed, "NO!" On the ground, the female wyvern prodded her mate with her beak, urging it to move. It released a long, wailing moan of a roar, which mingled with that of Jia.
As one, hunter and wyvern cried out in united anguish, filling the silent landscape with the mourning of their fallen lovers.

1. In a state of decomposition!
2. A stalemate broken by the millenium falcon.
3. Ah, a lovely question. The thing about human perception is that we see what we choose to see. Or, equally, what we are educated to see. If one has never even heard the name, how will he ever see it? For to know you see it is to know what you see. At the same time if you choose to believe that anything-- from a man vending slurpees to a police sketch-- is the visage of the reticent muslim phrophet, well then congratulations to you, the proverbial waldo is found. Sorry that one went on a bit.
4. Or the wheat or the white? Maybe I can suggest an appetizer. The fact of the matter is there are far too many good grain products out there to settle down with one. I like sandwiches on untoasted bagels.
5. I want to say something in reference to the illuminati, but the funnier single-word response is merely: "Excelsior!"

Addendum: Fixed some typos.
Also, it occurs to me I may not have provided my initial site, which is rustcrust.wordpress.com
After reviewing some other applications, anxiety grows like a tumor with lips, whispering to the cloistered folds of my brain that i may have misrepresented myself. I await further discussion.

Greetings, and salutations!
I would very much enjoy having a cozy corner of cyberspace, pending your approval, for a site named Black Pariah.
The title, whilst sounding pretty groovy, is a minor allusion to an event in my fiction.  At the risk of sounding redundant, I am a fantasy/fiction writer, novelist-in-progress, and casual penner of short stories. For this, predictably i have a writing blog, as you may note, but some ends are best suited to other means. By this, I mean that my intent is to do an episodic series, on a weekly basis, reality allowing. Of course, I will (hypothetically, I'm not so arrogant as to assume) be posting short stories as they are written.
Excluding the rare bursts of nonfiction, all of my writing originates in the same world of my artifice. I havent yet settled on the series I want to do, but keeping with an episodic template, I am considering an unborn idea based on the premise of the classic masked vigilante. 'Sounds cliche, not classic, rust'. Why yes how astute! However looking back on my previous statement, the tweest here is that it takes place in a predominantly fantasy environment! Masked heroes with tails or horns, locking aforementioned parts in battle against their arch nemeses, and the like. Of course, I may go an entirely different route with a story i call 'Vampyramour'. I may do both. It is entirely up for discourse, I aim to please.
I find myself running our of things to say; hmm.
About me personally, I am a member of the mandalorian mercs costuming club (oya vode!), a moderate democrat, and a bald twenty two year old. The world works in mysterious ways.
Despite what i feel to be a fairly comprehensive introduction, I say to you bring on the challenge!
I will hold you to your 'no wrong answers' statement, though not to say I am unintelligent. My point being, whilst my answers may be inaccurate they are more than likely to give you a chuckle. I look forward to workign with you in the future.

In the event you do not wish to browse my blog-- I can hardly do it myself (though i can fend for myself in html)-- I will provide you as a parting remark, a small excerpt of my work.

*ahem*

The story starts the day they say she can't be found.
The messenger kneels meekly, trembling before his master. The dark elf seated before him rubs his chin in thought.
"Well that's no good," he says finally, contrary to the expectation of the messenger, catatonic with fear. "Stand up; you look like you're about to pass out." The messenger glances at the armed guards stationed in the room. Neither of them seem ready to execute him; maybe he is over thinking the situation. The prime minister did seem to be taking the news well. He stands, and begins pacing.
"This is no good at all. We'll have to redouble our efforts. You've done a commendable job, young man and i shall see you are so rewarded. Now go take some time off, i have things to attend to."
The messenger smiles gratefully and walks out of the room; he was practically skipping.
"Now then." The prime minister waves over two of his guard: humourless looking dark elves who could be mistaken for trolls. "See that he doesn't make it out, will you? And you– fetch me the sister. Seems it will take a D'Lumis to catch a D'Lumis."