anybody got a copy of the intro flash tat used to be on the main website flaoting around... or have i missed where it's gotten moved to?

i know a couple of yuo are are there... but i'm wondering how hard it would be to mix up a couple techo-ish or not techno-ish remixs of the ps music

i heard the demon was spawned by dakkru, and he lost her favor.  the monk, vey, bunched his face, relaxed, and attempted to clear his mind. i heard every soul he sent to her, was a failed attempt to return her eye to him. vey took a slow deep breath. my mother said he was strong and gentle, but also seemed weary and sad. the monk sighed and stood up, surrendering on the day's meditation.

he walked over to the door and slid it back. the cold breeze from outside stirred a brief flame from the coals in the brazier. he stepped out closing the door behind him. his sandals crushed fresh foot prints in the snow as he crossed the courtyard.

the master sat watching the carp pond. the occasional ripple indicated movement beneath the surface of the water. "still having trouble vey?" he said without looking from the pond.

"yes, master." vey walked over to the pond. "the same thoughts, i can't let them go."

"ever since the stranger left."

"yes master, soon after."

"he didn't say anything that would have created such thoughts?"

vey sat on one of the stones by the pond. he shook his head. "no master. he barely said anything. he just worked." he shook his head again. "he said he came for rest."

"rest comes in many forms. he left the world at the door. he picked it up again when he left." he looked at the gate. "i fear he didn't rest long enough though." he looked up from the pond. "come it is time to eat; and the carp are still warm enough despite the chill i feel."

they walked toward the kitchen. vey matched his pace to the slower steps of his master.

"perhaps it was something he didn't say." the master said.

"he just told me it was a black locust," vey gestured toward a tree crowning over the rest of the forest. "and that there must have been much."

"must have been much?" the master looked at vey.

vey nodded. "i told him the story that had been passed to me. that many years ago a single warrior had protected the temple from a band of thieves. after they had been defeated he planted a seed in the earthen mound raised over their bodies. before leaving the mound the warrior said, 'may what was taken in life, be returned in death.'"

the master nodded. "yes those were the words.” the master paused and looked towards the tree. his eyes took on a far way look. "he stood there, in front of us. he paid the price that we couldn't or wouldn't pay." he shook his head, and began to walk again. "i used to know which. do you know the name of the warrior?"

vey shook his head. "no master."

"it was the demon"

"the demon? but..." vey trailed off. stories about the demon came to him.

"do you know the full name that was given to him by the survivors, and by those he stood in front of?"

vey again shook his head. "no master. i've always known it as the demon."

"it was the quiet demon."

the master continued on leaving vey standing in the snow.

 

sulus steps out of the night shadows towards the cloaked figure. the hood is up, hiding the face in deeper shadows.

“mistress,” he says. “i have a job for you.”

the figure turns, the cloak swirling. an inch of a stiletto pokes out of the front of the cloak.

“a job for someone of your talents,” he continues.

the stiletto disappears into the cloak. there is a sound like the whisper of still air and the hint of lips moving within the shadows of the hood.

“i know. the pay will be double,” he responds.

the figure turns whispering.

“it’s personal.”

the figure pauses, and turns her head towards sulus.

“yes, personal.”

the figure whispers again.

“no, not for me. i’ll pay you for your time, and show you who it is for.”

the figure whispers.

“yes, a tenth is suitable.” he passes over a small bag from his coat. it disappears within the cloak.

they arrive at a slightly worn house. it once was home to a wealthy family but has since fallen to other uses. standing in front are two large men. they fail to be krans merely by being the wrong species.

“we’re closed,” one of them rumbles and moves to block the door.

a flash of recognition cross the other’s face as sulus and the figure step into the door’s light. he steps over to his companion and whispers fiercely. the both step aside clearing the doorway.

“sorry sir. the mistress said we were closed.” he second said.

“quite understandable,” sulus says.

“i hope it ain’t for too much longer. our regulars understand. but i hate breaking in new customers. some folk today ain’t got no respect.” he cracks his scarred knuckles.

sulus nods, “perhaps. or maybe it is just that we notice.”

“perhaps. perhaps,” he nods. “and your friend?”

“she is with me on the prospect of employment.”

“well let’s ‘ave a look at ‘er.” the first guard reaches for the hood of the cloaked figure.

her hands fly out of the cloak with the stiletto. the palm of the left hand pushes on the bottom of the handle. sulus pinches the stiletto halting just shy of the first guard’s chest. the second guard pushes the first bodily against the door well. he pauses, fist ready to strike.

“gods, i’m sorry sir.” the second guard is visibly afraid of the man at most one third his weight.

the eyes of the first guard dart nervously between the stiletto and the first. the figure relaxes and sulus releases the stiletto.

“it isn’t me that he should be apologizing to.” sulus gestures to the figure. “but knowing her, i doubt that an apology will be sufficient.”

she shakes her head. the stiletto disappears into the cloak again. sulus takes a small dagger out and hands it to the figure.

“but, she is capable of exacting her own compensation.” he turns towards her. “nothing too harsh. while he does appear rather foolish, i’m guessing that he is capable of learning.”

the first guard nods slowly. the second releases him and steps back. she holds the dagger as to drive it deep. she steps close. there is a whisper like still air, as she waves the dagger across his face and down his chest. she swiftly shifts her grip to instead harden her fist and drives her fist hard into his stomach. and the guard bends over she drives her knee up into his groin. he groans as she steps back. he begins to sag to the ground. she hands the dagger back to sulus.

the door opens. behind it is an older woman dressed in a severe but flattering style.

“ah, master sulus,” she looks around noting but not commenting on the two guards. “there are few that can keep brin in conversation for so long. do come in.”

“of course, mistress fris.” sulus and the figure step through the door. fris closes it behind them.

“while i do trust you and any you bring.” she says firmly. “for some things i can not allow any exceptions.”

“yes, of course.” he places the dagger on the counter by the door and nods to his companion. she places two stilettos on the counter. after some movement beneath the cloak, another three are placed on the counter.

“how is she?” sulus says.

“not much worsened, or improved.” fris says. “not that any real improvement is possible. you’ve come to see her?”

“yes, i have.”

“this way then.” she leads them up a flight of stairs. as they walk down the hall the closely spaced doors crack open and women of various ages, mostly young peak out. they stop at a door near the end of the hall. fris opens the door. under the worn blankets is a figure made human only by the single eye looking out of the bandages. sulus ushers the cloaked figure in.

“thank-you mistress. if we need anything, we will let you know.” sulus closes the door.

the figure whispers.

“a job that went wrong. those involved have been dealt with, rather creatively.”

the figure shudders. there were many stories about sulus and his creativity. the figure whispers.

“they all are.” sulus looks at her. “i care because someone has to.” he walks over to the bed, and kneels beside it. “everything i know. everything i can reach to, and this is the option that i have.” he looks at the remains of the young woman in the bed. gentleness replaces the growing frustration in his voice. ”are you sure? if you have any doubt at all i will find another way, regardless of what it takes.”

the young woman painfully nods her head.

“i understand,” sulus whispers. “will you take the job?”

the figure nods and whispers.

“thank-you,” he whispers. “that is a very long time. but, thank-you.” he stands up. the figure walks over to one of the walls. she taps on it lightly with a finger. pushing the wall she whispers.

“beneath is the kitchen. it should be empty.” sulus looks up. “above, dead space in the attic.”

the figure whispers.

“and across the hall? the hall itself as well?”

the figure whispers in response.

“very well, i will clear the rooms.” sulus leaves closing the door behind him.

the figure steps into the middle of the room. she lifts back the hood. long dark black hair cascades down. her skin is the black of pitch. she reaches up and unclasps the cloak. it falls to the floor with a soft thud. her clothing is nearly skin tight. she kicks the cloak to one side. she stands still in the room; head bowed slightly, eyes closed, breathing slowly, and waiting.

there is a knock at the door. sulus’s voice comes through the door. ”mistress we are ready.” her head snaps up, eye open. she opens her mouth.

sulus reaches the far end of the hall. standing gathered at he head of the stairs are several women in various states of undress. sulus turns and watches the door.

from the end of the hall comes the faint sound of singing. it drifts on the edge of hearing. the pieces that can be heard have a complexity beyond what a single voice can create. the words are unintelligible, if there are any. the sound is sorrowful, but there are joyful and expectant themes in it. despite its beauty, it is haunting and chilling. one of the women starts to step forward to hear it better. sulus’s raises his arm without looking to block her path.

after some time the door opens. the cloaked figure walks out of the room. the hood again hides the face in shadows. she stops in front of sulus and whispers. sulus takes a small sac out of his coat. she takes it inside her cloak.

she whispers again, this time punctuated by the word “never”. the voice is rough like gravel. she turns and walks through the crowd. sulus watches her leave. he turns and walks back to the room, closing the door.

later sulus comes slowly down the stairs. he walks to the counter by the door and picks up his dagger. fris enters the hall her hands clasped in front of her.

“thank-you sulus for helping her,” she says.

he simply nods in response. he begins to open the door.

“sulus,” she says. “some of us care because we have to.” she bows her head. “thank-you for choosing to.”

okay, i'm a going book hunting. from what i've done so far this will be a tricky one.

recent events have led me to hunt for this book. now that i can actually talk about it, some near fool restriction my brother and his girlfriend placed, i need some help in the hunt.

i'm looking for a book on uncling... uncleing... however it is spelt, a book on being the brother of the parent. there are any number of books on parenting. but this seems to be such a hard hunt.

while in theory i could read through and adapt some of the parenting books, and perhaps i should for when it becomes my turn. i'm feeling lazy and want someone to have writen and thought things through for me.

if it includes things on how to be the cool uncle i'm game for it as well. though i think i know a couple of books that i can pull from for that.

all this artistic talent and _nobody_ has thought to cash in on this yet...

why don't we have any of ps caramelldansen?

the poor ulbers and clackers, won't somebody please think of them. they want to dansen too.

and once you get back on your chair... after having fallen off it laughing, get to work!

the beat of blood
the note of steel
the final dance

we step for them
we waltz for them
the dance of death

for those behind us

new fanart idea.
photomosaics.

but for them to work well a large number of screenies are needed. so i'm looking to build up a library of them. i'm crawling through the screenshot thread to gather the. but i'm also putting out a general call. all versions of ps ab, mb, cb.

good ones bad ones. well not terrible ones. i won't be turning many down.
so zip them up and send them over. best address to send to is steuben.visocsa (at) gmail.com

and yeah i'll share out the library if anybody wants a copy.

and if you have suggestions for stuff to photomosaic go ahead.