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I’ve just gotta day that Cate Blanchette made one smoking hot Hela.
 
And then I get reminded that, sometimes, real life does follow porn logic:

'Smallville' Actress Allison Mack Is Accused of Recruiting for an Evil Sex Cult (Not Hollywood, Another One)

Rumors are going around that Allison Mack, Clark Kent’s adorkable best friend on Smallville, is a “key recruiter” of a sex cult DOS. The cult’s title stands for “dominus obsequious sororium,” Latin for “master over the slave women”; last month, the New York Times reported that they also brand women with cauterizing rods, and that leader Keith Raniere allegedly forces members to go on “near-starvation diets” to satisfy his sexual needs.
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I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve read that as a plot seed around here somewhere...
 
Hey! Fans of anthropomorphic animals? Psst...

Male kangaroos have a s-shaped forked penis to match a female’s double vagina.

You’re welcome.
 
Not sure if that is stranger than the Echidna' four-headed penis. Man, Australia, if your wildlife isn't immediately going to kill you in a horrific manner, then it probably has a bizarre penis. Or both.

Also: When you just have to finish.
 
Madam Mim said:
Seriously though, what does your search history look like??? lol
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Pretty weird, actually. Just this week it’s included number theory, plate tectonics, IRS regulations, and 1920s women’s clothing. The kangaroo thing came from Twitter, though - I follow a bunch of biologists, and one of them threw up a tweetstorm that started “ket’s Talk about kangaroo penises!”

How could I not read that?

Also, thanks to the Monstertalk podcast, I know that some sea serpent sightings are probably actually whale penises. Seriously. Google images of “whale penis”, and brace yourself for an odd throw-away scene in Only Rules.
 
Speaking of Only Rules, it’s just hit me that “Why Does The Caged Bird Sing?” and “Only Rules That Matter: Legacy” take place within a few years of each other. Now my brain is insisting that a crossover should happen. The Lone Ranger and her wife Tonto team up with the Raven and the Nightengale to stop American Nazis from obtaining the Ghost Dance ritual, which they plan to give to Hitler so the Reich can make ghost shirts and render the Waffen-SS bulletproof. Or something. Basically, an excuse for two lesbian cowboys (cowgirls?) to punch Nazis alongside two pulp heroes.
 
TheCorsair said:
Basically, an excuse for two lesbian cowboys (cowgirls?) to punch Nazis alongside two pulp heroes.
Click to expand...

I'm down. Punching Nazis is my fetish.
 
xanaphia said:
TheCorsair said:
Basically, an excuse for two lesbian cowboys (cowgirls?) to punch Nazis alongside two pulp heroes.
Click to expand...

I'm down. Punching Nazis is my fetish.
Click to expand...

Well, then. Enjoy.
[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QD0gkx67jT8[/video]
 
54849f9c870936aa4345ec4ed197875b.jpg


And to all of you who aren’t American, Happy Thursday!
 
Are you angry about what’s going on in Washington?

Do you want to write your representatives, but aren’t sure how?

Text “Resist” to 50409. Resistbot (@botresist) makes it easy. You write the text, and Resistbot delivers it by fax, email, or physical letter.

Join the Resistance.
 
Signal boost. I have several anxiety disorders that make talking on the phone to strangers very distressing for me. Resistbot is super easy to use and is a lifesaver for people who have problems talking on the phone but want to get in contact with their representative.
 
Ugh, I've been so depressed all weekend over this BS. Feels so incredibly frustrating, especially since my reps are Dems, and voted against it. (Though I had to keep a close eye on Feinstein since she did vote in the Bush tax cuts.:mad:) I'm not optimistic, but I did my part.:-/
 
The Blue Moon Christmas Special, part one

Sam bustled about, feeling giddy with excitement as she checked the food and the decorations one last time. The colored lights on the fir tree in the corner burned with a steady electric glow. They’d been a splurge, but they were safer than candles. And with a baby sleeping upstairs, she’d wanted the tree to be safe. There wasn’t a such animal as an electric menorah, though. So it sat on the mantle, candles burning bright and warm.

“Relax, liebschen,” Erik laughed, sliding his arms around her waist. His hands on her belly, warm through the fabric of her dress, reminded her for a moment that she hadn’t managed t lose all of the weight she’d gained in pregnancy. “Everything is ready.”

“Ah know,” she smiled, leaning back into his embrace. “Ah’m jes’ excited, yeh know? Hostin’ th’ party in our own house this year.” She wrapped her arms around his and smiled. “Hardly feels real. This time last year, you’d jes’ asked me to marry you.”

“I can ask again this year,” he teased, nipping lightly at her bare neck.

“Stop that,” she protested, arching her neck to give him more access. “Th’ guests’ll be here any minute.”

“Then I’ll have to be quick,” he replied, running his hands up her belly to cup her breasts. She made a purring sound, covering his hands with hers as he gently squeezed...

There was a knock at the door.

Bith of them sighed. Disengaging from each other, Erik straightened his tie while Sam adjusted her gown. “I’ll, uhm, get the wine,” Erik said, tugging at his trousers.

“Right. Ah’ll get th’ door,” Sam nodded, glancing at the mirror and checking her hair. She usually didn’t do much more than braid it, but she’d had it done up nice to go with her new dress. And while she had definite plans to let it get all messed up by Erik later in the evening, right now she wanted it to look nice. Someone hammered at the door again.

“All right, all right,” she snapped, stalking into the hall and heading for the door. “Hold yer damn horses!” Probably Kieran, she decided. His manners were even tougher than hers, possibly because he hadn’t bothered with them. Maybe if he’d stayed with Colin. The knocking sounded again, and she scowled. “Ah said,” she snapped, pulling the door open, “Hold yer...”

The words died on her lips. She knew both of the women at the door, and neither one was Anne Marie. One was the Indian gal she’d met in New Orleans, Jackie something. She was bundled against the Berlin winter in a sheepskin jacket, and had a baby cradled in her arms.

“Holy shit,” gasped the Sam Cavendish on the stoop. “Don’t Ah look like a proper lady, hun?”


Elsewhere...

Quentin caught three blaster bolts on the blazing white blade of his lightsaber, sending two into the ceiling and the third back into the chest of a startled-looking mantoid. He slashed sideways, amputating the hand of a Gammorean with a vibriaxe, then spun and kicked another man in the stomach. “You all right?” he called.

There was a surge in the Force, and two humanoids flew past him to slam into the wall. “Oh, I’m just wonderful,” Kaydia complained, her lightsaber flaring green as she deflected a blaster bolt back down the hall. “What happened to covert?”

“It’s not my fault!” he protested, scanning the room. Everyone was down now, either unconscious or dead. “All I Did was look, and their alarms went off!”

“Uhm-hm,” she replied skeptically, catching one last thug with the Force and bouncing him off the ceiling. “I thought Shadows were discrete?”

In the distance, echoing down the corridor, the sound of metal on metal could be heard. Without another word, the two Jedi cautiously approached. It grew louder, resolving into a musical ringing sound that ebbed and flowed in the rhythms of battle. There were voices as well, sharp and taunting but in distinct. Finally, they reached the source.

“Well,” Quentin said “You don’t see that every day.”

Several bodies lay on the deck of the bridge. At one end a woman with long red hair and a green dress wielded a long, straight sword as she fought two of the crew of the pirate ship. At the other, a flamboyantly-dressed man used a slightly curved, basket-hilted sword to fight the ship’s captain, a scarred Mon Calamari with a serrated hook of a blade. The flamboyant man sidestepped, feinted, and thrust the Mon Calamari through the heart. “Everything under control, love?”

“Oh, you know me,” the redhead replied, parrying a sword thrust. “I’ve never minded two at once.” She slashed and the swordsman went down, his throat opened. “Unless they don’t have any staying power.”

“Need any help?” The man asked.

“You’ve watched me with other men before,” the woman replied. “I’ll let you know.” She twisted her wrist and turned a clumsy swing aside, then stabbed her second opponent in the throat. “There.”

“Who areyou two?” Quentin asked, sounding puzzled. They clearly weren’t with the pirates, but there’d been no other ships about.

“Well,” said the man, swaying a little as he waved towards the woman. “I have the privilege of being able to tell you that she is the fearsome reformed pirate Red Jenny, scourge of the South China Sea and my dear and lovely wife. And I, my good sir, am Captain Jack Sparrow.” He sketched a little bow, then looked crestfallen at the lack of response from the two Jedi. “You’ve not heard of me? Jenny, love, they’ve never heard of me!”

So, this. My first thought was to just write some silly little crossover scenes as an Advent calendar of sorts. And then it went crazy and turned into this. I honestly don’t know where I’m going, or how many of these I’m going by to end up writing, now.
 
Aww, I love it so far. <3 I was thinking of developing some holidays for the Redemptionverse (that needs a better name). Preferably some holidays that aren't orgies. ^.~
 
Verrier: I don’t like that name for the world.
Clara: What name?
Verrier: Redemptionverse.
Clara: Well, what do you suggest as a name for the world?
Verrier: Mine.
Clara: ...
Clara: You can shut up now, because you don’t get a vote.

But yeah. Some non-orgy holidays would be good. I’ll put some thought into it. Along with trying to figure out how to get the Redemptionverse (shut up, Verrier) characters and Nightengale and the Raven into the Christmas special. Also Mara.

(Quentin: Another hot redhead just arrived. I think I like this Christmas thing!
Mara: Mom! Dad! Hi!
Quentin: ...
Quentin: Brain bleach. Now.)
 
Amusingly, this got me thinking about the parallels between Captain Aurelia and Captain Jack. At least the title that gets passed down the generations. They have to interact at some point.
 
A little while ago...

“Right,” Sam said slowly. “You don’t look like no shaman.” He sure as hell didn’t. Someone calls himself a shaman, you expected an Indian. Not some burly white man with close-cropped hair and some kind of strange olive colored coat.

“No,” he corrected. “Not a shaman. The Shaman. It’s my title.”

“Pretty fuckin’ arrogant title, you ask me.” Sam poured herself a cup of coffee and stared at the crazy man, wondering again why she’d allowed him into her house. Jackie was still asleep, since the baby had been up half the night crying, and the last thing she needed was to get woken up by a kitchen full of crazy.

“Maybe it is,” the man agreed, reaching into a pocket and sliding a small box across the table. “Rub this on Jack’s gums, though, and he’ll feel better.”

She picked it up. The label was clearly written in English, but the label meant nothing to her. Children’s Tylenol. “Yeah. A’ll be sure ta feed mah son pills on the word o’ a hobo that’s Putin’s on airs.” She set it down. “Ah said Ah’d feed yeh some breakfast. Ah ain’t gonna...”

“You’re making an unwanted assumption, Samantha Margaret Cavendish,” the man interrupted, then chuckled as she gasped in surprise. “I’m here to...”. He paused, staring at the revolver she was suddenly aiming at him. “Put that down.”

Sam started to obey, then her knuckles whitened as she forced herself to keep the weapon level. “Go fuck yerself.”

He laughed, sounding pleased. “Impressive. But I’m not here to harm you, or Jacqueline Sparrow, or your son. No, I’m here to do something for you.”

“What?”

He spread his hands. “Well, let’s just say that you can think of me as the Ghost if Christmases that Might Have Been.” He searched her confused expression. “Dickens reference? A riff on A Christmas Carol?”

“Suh, Ah got no idea what th’ hell yer talkin’ about.”


Now

Still in her fancy dress, Sam sat at the dining room table and stared at the other Sam as she told her tale. It wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror. The other Sam wore her hair shorter, for one thing. And her nose had been broken, making it a little crooked. And she was a little leaner, her clothes a little more threadbare and patched. But she seemed happy, clearly in love with her Jackie and firing on the little black baby they’d brought along. “So he wasn’t a crazy derelict, was he.”

“Nope,” Sam confirmed. “He brought us here, ta Berlin, in some kinda...” she searched for words.

“Medicine lodge,” Jackie supplied.

“Ah reckon,” Sam said with a shrug. “Opened a door in a damn Rick, an’ led us into a big ol’ room. Like, like a church. One o’ them real big ones. An’ then, We was here.”

“Well,” Erik said, sounding a little dazed, “You and your friend might as well stay for dinner.”

“Wife,” Sam corrected, draping her arm around Jackie’s shoulders. “She’s mah wife, not jes’ mah friend.”

“She’s... What?” Erik sounded shocked.

“Wait.” Sam looked at the other Sam. “In yer Tejas, gals kin marry other gals?”

“Nope,” Sam replied with a grin. “You think Ah care, though?”

Sam laughed then, and took Erik’s hand. “Nope.”


“He was number thirty-four,” John said, wiping his sword off and gesturing at the orange skinned... man? Thing?

“What do you mea, ‘number thirty-four’?” asked the woman with the green glowing sword. Kaydia, he recalled from the brief exchange of names. He took a moment to appreciate the curves her outfit displayed before responding.

“Oh, it’s simple enough. I sail under a curse, you see. No rest beyond the grave for me, not until I deliver a hundred souls wicked enough to be condemned to Davy Jones’ Locker”. He gestured at Jenny. “And my lovely wife volunteered to keep me company as I sail.”

The two... Jettys? Jeti? Whatever. Quentin and Kaydia were their names, and they glanced at each other. “Oh. So you’re cursed.”

It was clear from Kaydia’s tone of voice that she was humoring him. John shot Jenny a questioning look, then turned on his heel. “Come along,” he said, swaggering off. “Let me show you something.” The two... Cheddy? Hell, the two Knights followed, watching him with more than a little caution. He didn’t care. Instead, he paused dramatically before a massive window and spun on his heel. “Look for yourselves.”

They did. Kaydia’s eyes widened a little, and Quentin tried to stifle a noise of surprise. “What... What is that?” he asked.

John grinned, waving at the full-rigged galleon that drifted alongside the starship, sails stirring in an impossible breeze. “That is the Black Pearl. Now,” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Care for a little trip, just to prove she’s real. We’re headed for, uhm...”. He cast a helpless look at Jenny.

“Some place called al-Nithiel,” she replied.

Part two is a reality. As is my growing urge to try and play this all out in some insane fashion.

If you’re wondering, everyone ends up at Sam’s for Christmas.
 
I hope you don't mind. I was inspired. I shouldn't be saying this since I have way too much on my plate as it is, but I would be so down to playing this in a group thread or w/e.

Three ships waving the flag of the Sons of the Scorpion were surrounding a fourth. Aurelia didn’t recognize the flag on the ship being boarded, and Yusef shrugged as he handed back her spyglass. “Small time pirates, most likely.”

“Still, we might as well help them out. Sons are likely to take them for slaves or sacrifices,” Aurelia decided, turning the wheel two points off starboard.

“More of your self-destructive impulses for heroism?” Yusef teased, pulling himself closer with a strong grip on her hips.

Aurelia simpered. “Perhaps. And if the Sons happen to have cargo on board, well, that can payment for our rescue.”


“What planet is this?” Kaydia grumbled, catching a cutlass on her lightsaber before melting through the steel and searing off the hand wielding the blade. Most of their assailants were human, or near human, but there were several aliens she couldn’t identify. With red and black skin, horns growing from their skulls. They were similar to Iridonian’s but still off. After all, she never met an Iridonian with a tail before.

“Does it look as if I can access a nav sat right now?” Quentin countered, countering a blow from a pink skinned man with great horns that curled around his head. The force alerted them both to danger in the form of a crude iron projectile, 10 cm in diameter. She slowed its trajectory with the force, and Quentin sliced it in half with his burning white blade.

The other couple seemed to be handling themselves well, skilled with their primitive weapons. Still, the pirates that had boarded them had numbers, and for each that they cut down two more seemed to pop up. By now the foursome had been pushed towards the stern of the ship. Kaydia pushed several back with the force, sending them tumbling down curved stairs, but it was but a brief respite. Now two more ships had pulled up to join the fray, waving red flags with black crowns on them.

“More pirates?” Kaydia snapped, “I’m getting about sick of pirates!”


"What in the hells?"

About half the bodies found on board had been killed the old fashion way, ran through on or cleaved in twain by a sword. The other half had similar injuries, but instead of blood, the bodies had been burned where blade met skin. And even from the deck, she could see the glowing green and white straight blades wielded by the strangely dressed man and woman. Was that some sort of pyromancy?

Not that there was much time for Aurelia to question it, not as a body flew past her and into the mast. It wasn't any magic she'd seen before, but she bet the Sons were sorry they targeted a ship carrying a couple of wizards. They were certainly sorry now, pinned between Aurelia's crew storming the deck and the four on the stern. Unfortunately, the Sons didn't have the sense to surrender, and the ship was an abattoir by the time she and Yusef caught up the occupants of the ship.

"I am Captain Aurelia Seabourne, of the Silken Siren, and this is Captain Yusef al-Udan, of the al-Udan Mercenaries.”

There was a pair of redheads, though that was about all they had in common. One was dressed as expected of a pirate in the Jeweled Archipelago, in a green dress that flattered her figure and a bandana to tie back wild curls. She introduced herself as Red Jenny, wife of Captain Jack Sparrow. The other wore a plain black outfit, fitted to her curves without hampering her movement. She still held her green glowing sword before her, meeting Aurelia with caution in her eyes. “Jedi Knight Kaydia, and my husband, Jedi Master Quentin.”

“Wait, knights? Like paladins? I thought you two were wizards?” Aurelia asked.

“I’m a knight, he is a master.”

“Well, I don’t call anyone master.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Yusef pointed out.

“Hush you,” Aurelia said without any real heat. Without missing a beat, she was back to asking questions, “What did you do to make yourselves an enemy of the Sons of the Scorpions?"

“Existing, apparently,” The male wizard, Quentin, scoffed. He did something to the hilt, and the white blade of his weapon disappeared.

“Yeah, they hate that,” Yusef laughed.

“I am actually here to collect wicked souls for Davy Jones’s locker. Cursed to sail the sea with no rest until I retrieve 100,” Captain Jack explained, stepping carefully over the various body parts to the corpse of tattooed man wearing more cheap jewelry than was necessary for dozen lifetimes. “And this is number 35.”


“Well, I don’t know what Davy Jone’s locker is, but if you need wicked 100 souls, stay in al-Nithiel for awhile. You’ll finish in no time,” Aurelia offered, laughing, “We’ve made it our personal mission to wipe out slavery, so you’re welcome to harvest their souls if you please.”

Fayette peaked her head in at that. “Or if you want a really wicked soul, you can head to the Northlands, and take down a bastard who is responsible for a hell of a lot of pain and suffering in the world. Matthias the Traitor.”

 
A bit of a random musing on the timeline of the Meridian Society, from an ancient PM:

As much as I'd thought about it at all (which isn't much...), I think I'd assumed that the South revolted about five years after the Invasion. But... let me think.

The [Martian] invasion happened in 1898, 33 years after the end of the first Civil War. So, the Confederacy took another crack at succession about 1903. It probably took the US two more years to do anything more than shout a lot and launch punitive raids, so the second Civil War begins sometime in 1905 and lasts three years.

Mexico annexes Texas and some other territories sometime in 1907, while Confederate troops are pushing North. This actually helped bring an end to the second Civil War, as the actions of Mexico threatened both nations. So, the second Civil War formally ends in 1908. This leads directly to the second Mexican-American War, which ends in 1912 with the Treaty of San Antonio de Béxar, formally establishing the boundaries of the three nations.

This helps explain the lack of USA or CSA troops in the Great War in Europe. After seven years of war, both nations were too exhausted to provide troops for an essentially European conflict.

Since then, it's been a cold war with occasional proxy battles in the disputed territory out west (where several states, Utah chief among them, still behave like their own separate nations and play the Union and the Confederacy and Mexico against each other to maintain their tenuous independence).

I haven't given any thought to the "Hitler question", though. Germany got the short end of the Great War, but they aren't as devastated as they were in real history. Hitler, assuming he's even alive, could easily end up as a frustrated man best known for writing a political treatise in prison....

...oh my God. I've just had an idea!

Karl Marx was German. Maybe, after their failure in Russia, the Communists go hard after Germany? So, in the thirties, we could see the rise of the VDSR (Vereinigung der Deutsch Sozialistischen Räte)?
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So, Sam was only born 2 years after the Martian Invasion. She was 7 when Mexico annexed Texas, and 12 when Texas ended up becoming a Mexican posession by treaty. It seems likely that southern Texas, possibly feeling neglected by the United States when the Second Reconstruction Act attempted to rebuild after the Invasion and then even more neglected during the second Civil War (because all of the attention was being focused on the more heavily-settled, more industrialized east), began leaning towards Mexico politically. The people of southern Texas may have seen themselves as having more in common with the Mexicans. Sam certainly considers herself Mexican, and not a subjugated American.

Also, should I just go ahead and set up the "Christmas special" as a group RP?
 
I've been wondering where this went but haven't gotten up the oomph to look through our PMs. I've got a lot of planning-stage PMs saved in different folders, but I really need to go through and copy them into a document for ease of searching. Also, damn...I've got Sam born in 1890 on the family tree...so I'll need to shift everything ten years. Dammit.

I'm down for anything as far as the Christmas special goes...
 
I mean, I shouldn't say yes, seeing as I still want to have my second draft of the novel finished before the end of the year, but here I am, saying yes, because how could I possibly resist?
 
Madam Mim said:
I've been wondering where this went but haven't gotten up the oomph to look through our PMs. I've got a lot of planning-stage PMs saved in different folders, but I really need to go through and copy them into a document for ease of searching. Also, damn...I've got Sam born in 1890 on the family tree...so I'll need to shift everything ten years. Dammit.

I'm down for anything as far as the Christmas special goes...
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Not, wait. I misread my own notes. She was born in 1890. She remembers the invasion.
 
Phew okay. I started thinking about the timeline and how old we said she was and stuff and was trying to work it all out and wondering if I was crazy...
 
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