City of IF

Chinaren · Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 12:51 am Post subject:

Very well, poll is up. Gnarlibar the unfrumble of voting.

Chinaren · Posted: Wed Jun 22, 2011 3:35 am Post subject:

Very well, poll is closed. With the results from both sites option three was the winner.

Next chapter should be up sooooon.

Chinaren · Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 9:58 pm Post subject:

I can't believe I have to do this to myself...

I have one day to post another chapter or it shall be moved to the snailstory area.

Chinaren · Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 9:59 pm Post subject:

Sheesh, alright already!

What a ball buster. :x

Chinaren · Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 11:06 pm Post subject:

“Oh fuck,” Randy said. “This isn’t good.”

Turning about he leaped over to the nearest console and reached for the keyboard, only to stop short. The display was showing some kind of complex 3D moving graph, with various messages in what looked like Chinese popping up here and there.

“Mm, not this one.”

A shout outside the room encouraged him to move to the next terminal, but this one was simply blank.

“Shit,” he said, as the sound of a door opening came from behind him. With no further time to try and figure the device out, he dived behind the nearest cover, which happened to be a metal, fridge sized box with blinking green lights.

More shouts in the strange language, and the sound of booted feet advancing with menace encouraged him to shrink further down. He thought tiny thoughts.

A shadow fell across him, and he looked up into an Asian face peering out from underneath a dark green helmet with a red star on the front. More significantly, a rifle muzzle was now aimed directly at his head.

“Hi,” Randy said, grinning stupidly. “Would you believe I was looking for the restroom?”

~

“Fuck!” Randy spat out a tooth. “I just had that fixed at the dentist you cunt!”

“No more games Yankee spy.” The Chinese interrogator leaned forward and prodded him in the forehead. “You tell us truth or I take all your teeth.”

“I told you already…” Randy began.

“Yes yes, your fancy story of some dire future. Bullshit. The device not work yet!”

“Jesus, you people aren’t very imaginative are you? It’s a fucking time machine moron! If it works then what do you think’s going to happen? Shit! Stop that!” He shook his head, trying to clear it after the surprisingly painful open handed slap his tormentor had just given him.

“We know you Yankee have machine too. Nearly as advance as ours,” the man said. “You come from there to sabotage! Admit it! Then you can die quick death with clean conscience. Go to your capitalist heaven. Play harp on cloud.”

“I’m an Atheist,” Randy slurred. They’d injected him with something ten minutes previously, and he was beginning to feel strange.

A knocking sound echoed around the small cell, and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from the door and not inside his head. His new friend glared at him for a moment more before striding over to the door and pulling back a hatch set at head height. Randy couldn’t see clearly, but he heard a fierce exchange of whispers before the hatch was slammed shut again and the man returned.

The injection, whatever it was, was really starting to kick in, so the interrogators face wobbled like pudding as he stooped in front of Randy, making sure he had his full attention before speaking.

“You speak or not now little man. I tell you something, it make no difference soon. This act of war. We are going to respond. We send present through our machine to your machine. Make big hole in lying United States. They say they want peace on one hand and send you here on other. This time we teach them big lesson. Big nuclear bomb lesson! Hee hee hee!”

“Uhh,” Randy groaned. The drugs were making it hard to concentrate. “Come… here. Tell… you something. Close. Whisper.”

“What is it little man?” The man came closer.

“You laugh like a girl.” Randy lunged forward and bit the man’s ear, hard.

“Ahhhhh!” His interrogator yanked back, pulling Randy with him and tipping over the chair, an act that resulted in half the ear being torn off.

Randy landed, hard, on the concrete floor and spat out the flesh. Then he watched calmly as the man pulled out a long knife from his belt. Blood dripping down the side of his head, he knelt in front of the prisoner and pulled the blade back.

“Now I kill you Yankee scum. Your country follow soon.”

Randy waited to die. The blade sparkled in the dim light and started to descend. Only something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t speeding up, but getting slower. At first he thought it was probably the drugs, but when it stopped half way down, he realized it was probably something else.

“There you are,” said a dry voice. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on, stop laying around.”

The Limping Man bent down and pulled Randy upright, seemingly having no trouble with his weight. As Randy tried to come to his senses, the tall time traveler, sans hat he noticed, started undoing his bonds.

“Yurghly…” Randy shook his head, which nearly made him throw up. He tried again. “You’re dead. Saw you shot.”

“Come on,” the Limping Man said, somehow undoing the shackles around his ankles. “I can travel through time, how are you going to shoot me exactly? I did lose my hat though, so you’ll have to get that for me when you return.”

“Return?” Randy was still having trouble thinking.

“Of course. For Claire. I told you, you two need to be together to fix this little time loop problem. There, you can stand up now.”

“Easier said than done,” Randy murmured, meaning the standing up part. Still, he managed it somehow, with a bit of help.

“So, what now?” he asked. “Are you going to take me back?”

“Sorry, no can do,” the man replied. “I can only take myself. You’ll have to use a Time machine. Luckily I know where one is.”

“Here!” Randy said brightly.

“Actually, no.” The Limping Man shook his hatless head. “The Chinese don’t quite have the time travel part working yet. They do have spatial technology though, which, ironically, the Americans don’t. You need to have that part working, otherwise you’ll travel in time but not space. This is bad because the planet will have moved and you’ll pop out into empty void. Not a good idea all told.”

“So I can’t use theirs either?”

“If you steal the transporter data from the Chinese machine and input it into the US one, then you can. The software is surprisingly compatible.”

“I can do that!” Randy said. “I’m good with computers.”

“You’ll need to be, and I’ll help you finish the job before the Chinese send the bomb through.”

“Bomb?” Randy’s head suddenly felt a lot clearer.

“Yes, didn’t you hear your chum?” He tapped the frozen interrogator on the head. “The Chinese will send a nuke through the machine, blow up half of San Francisco. The Americans will figure it out and retaliate of course. This era of human history is a particularly touchy one. They call it the Second Cold War, until it turns into the hot version of course. Such a pity too, they were just about to make a breakthrough in the peace talks.” He shrugged. “Ah well, I’m sure your new civilization will do much better.”

Randy stood there, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish for a minute before he could finally frame the words.

“You mean this turns into World War Three? I start World War Three? Me?”

“Don’t feel too bad about it.” The Limping Man patted him on the shoulder. “If it wasn’t you then it would have been something else. Like I said, it’s Destined to be. You can’t cheat what’s Destined. Now, are you going to stand there all day or go and get Claire? I can’t hold this lot still forever you know.”

In a daze, Randy followed the limping man back through the corridors, full of frozen Chinese soldiers, down a lot of stairs, (the problem with stopping time is that the elevators don’t work, the Limping Man explained), and back into the lab, which was exactly as he left it except for a large round metal device sitting on the floor nearby. Several statue-guards wearing radiation suits stood next to it.

“Er, I’m not going to get radiated am I?” Randy asked, eyeing the device nervously.

“No silly billy, radiation is subject to the laws of time, same as everything else.” The Limping Man walked over to a console and started pressing buttons. “Now, I have to start time again to get you through,” he said. “I’ll be with you on the other side shortly. Unfortunately, due to the fact I am also nearby the place you’re going to come out, you’ll have to wait a few minutes before I turn up again.”

“I don’t understand,” Randy said, still eyeing the bomb.

“I was nearby at the time this happened, too close, and whilst I can, literally, be in two places at once, I can’t be in the same place at once. Or at least nearby. It’s complicated okay? Just take my word for it. There’s only a small window, so I have to send you through and then wait until my other self has gone.”

“I’m not reassured here.” Randy edged away from the bomb.

“Don’t worry about it,” the Limping Man said, waving an arm. “It’ll be fine. I do this sort of thing all the time. Now, when I restore time to let you through I’ll also copy the data you’ll need. Then I’ll bring it over when the other me has gone. Stand on the platform.”

Unsure as to what he was doing exactly, Randy did as he was bid.

“It’s night in the US now. There’ll be no one around the lab, so you just have to hang about and wait a bit, and I’ll meet you there. Ready?”

“N…”

There was a bright light.

There was intense dark.

There was light again.

“...o.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Randy blinked and looked around. He was in yet another time machine room, this one was larger than the Chinese version, and bustling full of white coated scientists. Standing in front of him was what appeared to be an army chief of some kind. Stars glistened on his shoulders, and he was busy reaching for the pistol at his side.

“Ah, crap,” Randy said.

>>>>>>

Sorry for the delay with this one. Life just kept on throwing up obstacles. Still, it’s done now!

So, the SP here is pretty much the same as the last one. What does he say/do now? Try and warn them about the impending bomb? Say he’s from the future? Say he’s from the past?

Ideas please!

<<<<<<

PopeAlessandrosXVIII · Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2011 1:12 am Post subject: I Think.......

Ah, fun time travel messes. Gotta love'em.

This was one of the funner chapters I must say. I like this line.

Quote: “I’m not reassured here.” Randy edged away from the bomb.

That had me in giggles for a while. I also have to say, this limping man doesn't seem to have even half the talents he claimes to have. I mean, messing up so that our Randy ends up in a full lab? Even though he claimes to "Be there" already, and yet don't notice the peoples all around. Either that, or he screwed up and sent Randy through time as well as space on accident. *Sigh* And he seemed so smart! I mean, tuna sandwiches for luch? Had to be a genius, no? *Hangs head*

As for the DP excuses? I see these two:

Be Truthful #1 - I escaped the Chinese facility where they've perfected a way of transporting matter through these machines. You need to shut down this machine before they can send a bomb through that will take out half of the city. DO that, and I can give you the technology to make the time machine work.

Be Truthful #2 - I am a time traveler useing your facilites to go forward in time to retrieve my soon - to - be wife so we can go BACK in time and stop a hug war that's just around the corner! If you shut down the machines now, I can fill you in further, and we can all avoide dyeing!

Those are my thoughts. I know, kinda long, but, "The truth will set you free....or get you killed. Either way, your worries will be gone!"

Thunderbird · Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2011 12:17 pm Post subject:

"Well, you're messing around with time streams and it surprises you when someone pops in from the future?!? I have a lot to explain and very little time I'm afraid and I'm going to need to borrow your device for a 'test run' if you don't mind, otherwise Humanity could be wiped out, capishe?"

Loved the chinese dialogue in this chapter! Literally had me laughing out loud! You good at that!

The plot is warming up really nicely right now... loving every chapter here!

Vikas Muralidharan · Joined: 29 Aug 2010 Posts: 600

Im loving this story... Cant see any option other than being truthful though

Vishal Muralidharan · Joined: 24 Aug 2010 Posts: 867 Location: City Of IF!

Im going with pope's decision on this one.

This is really an awesome story!

Chinaren · Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2011 4:04 am Post subject:

OKay then, a poll will be going up tomorrow, so any more suggestions, get them in quick.

Chinaren · Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2011 8:34 pm Post subject:

Speed poll is up! Prime the explosive of voting.

Vikas Muralidharan · Joined: 29 Aug 2010 Posts: 600

lol... Amazing chapter.

Now we just need to find a way to make ourselves look like an older version of us... Shouldnt be too hard :lol: :P

Thunderbird · Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 8:35 am Post subject:

dangit... out of time... will read asap C'ren!

Tainted Biohazard · Joined: 20 May 2011 Posts: 53 Location: The Absu

Who... who the hell came up with Base Jumping???

I mean.. I guess it could work but... he looks alot like his older self so perhaps doing the disguise thing twice in once story may be justifiable here and I can't imagine how it wouldn't be a success given the situation.

Chinaren · Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2011 5:27 pm Post subject:

Welcome to Run Tainty. Yes, don't worry about Thunderbird, he's under a lot of strain. ;)

I should be spurting forth the next chapter later today* (China time), so vote quick!

*Was going to do it yesterday, but life...

Chinaren · Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 5:38 am Post subject:

“Hold still,” the woman said, as she attempted to dab Randy’s face with some kind of stinky cloth.

“It smells,” Randy complained, wrinkling his nose. “I’m sure He doesn’t go around smelling like drains. People would talk.”

“The smell will wear off, and it will darken your skin a little bit. You’re far too fair to be living in these times, and I’m sure He will be the same, pampered as He is.”

“Possibly,” Randy acknowledged, remembering his older self.

“I still don’t think this will work.” His old resistance commander, John, was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Come on now, who’s going to impersonate Him? You’d have to be insane,” Randy replied, closing his eyes to allow the make-up artist to daub his upper face.

“Exactly,” John agreed.

Randy opened one eye and peered at the fighter. The man was obviously bored, used to action twenty four hours a day no doubt. Sitting in an underground bunker babysitting some kid from the distant past, whilst he had various substances painted on his face must have been torture.

“Nearly done,” the woman said, putting down the cloth, much to Randy’s relief, and picking up a tiny brush. “Let’s add a few wrinkles now. Wow, haven’t done this since before the war.”

“What did you do, back then?” Randy asked her.

“I was a trainee makeup artist,” she said, sighing wistfully. “Just out of college I was, been working a week at the old Stadium theatre when the bombs dropped. Luckily I was out of town with my boyfriend at the time. Poor Peter, never did find out what happened to him.”

“You lost him?” Randy asked, fascinated of this personal piece of history from a future he didn’t yet know.

“We got split up scavenging for food,” she replied, wiping what could have been a tear from the corner of her eye. “We were just stupid kids back then, even though the end of the world was upon us we thought we were invincible. Everyone always does at that age. He was probably jumped on by some Canos. They were bad back then.” She dabbed at his cheek with the brush, her hand shaking.

“Canos?”

“Cannibals,” John answered for her. “There were more survivors than usual in Highfield, which meant the stored food ran our fast. Didn’t take long for some to revert back to barbarianism.”

“Shit.” Randy just managed to stop himself shaking his head.

“Still happens in some parts, so I’m told,” John went on, ignoring the look on the woman’s face. “Nasty brutes. Killed a few of ‘em in my time. We need more people, not less.”

“There, done.” The woman straightened up. “From your description, and with a hood, you should pass for an older version of you.”

Examining himself in the mirror, Randy nodded. He looked frighteningly like his other self. “Thank you,” he said. “And, I’m sorry about Peter.” He put a hand on her arm, and she smiled.

“Thanks dear, but it was a long time ago now. I’ve lived my whole life since, which is longer than most got to do. Had four kids, two who lived, so I’m one of the lucky ones.” She packed up her small kit and with one final nod, departed.

“So, now what?” John asked, stirring into life.

“Now you have to get me close to the palace,” said Randy.

“We can do one better,” the fighter replied. “We can get you inside.”

“Lead on MacDuff.” Randy gestured at the bunker door.

“Who the hell is MacDuff? The name’s Conner,” he replied. “John Conner.” And stalked off.

Following him, Randy shook his head. It seemed literature was another casualty of the war.

~

“Just keep your head down and follow the others,” John hissed at him.

Randy merely grunted, concentrating on the heavy crate that he was just about not dropping. Despite the cold, sweat trickled down his back, both from apprehension and the fact he had another set of clothes on under his laborers’ outfit. Two more men, whether they were resistance fighters in disguise or not he didn’t know, were ahead of him, also wearing dirty overalls and carrying large wooden boxes.

John was behind, taking the role of supervisor, which meant he didn’t have to carry anything of course. Now, with one final glance at him, the man strode forward and waved at the bored looking guard standing in front of the palace kitchen entrance. He wore the usual black uniform, sans helmet, which he’d removed for reasons of his own. One hand held what looked like a clipboard.

“Hoy you! What’s the hold up here?” John shouted. “This is food for the wedding.”

“Pass,” the Boot replied, holding out a black gloved hand.

“You people, all paperwork,” John scowled, but handed over a sheaf of papers.

Randy sweated some more as the guard went over the details, until he finally tore off a strip off one and handing the rest back to John. “Now, IDs,” he said.

“Here, I have them,” John replied, stuffing four into the man’s hand.

The guard gave the panting laborers a cursory glance, then nodded and handed the IDs back to John. “Go then.”

“Thanks sir.” John turned to his men and waved a hand. “Come on then you lazy lot, we don’t have all day. Wouldn’t want his highness and the lovely bride to go hungry now would you?”

Muttering under his breath, Randy shuffled forward, keeping his head down as much as he dared. He’d been provided with a flat cap amongst other things, and this was pulled low over his face.

He needn’t have worried, the guard ignored them, sucking on some kind of cigarette as they shuffled by.

They kept up the pretense all the way to the kitchen storage area, where they dropped the boxes off. There the other two men kept watch whilst John opened one and Randy shed his outer garments.

“Here, put these on, quickly!” John thrust a black guard suit at him as soon as the workman’s attire was shed. “Once you’re deeper into the palace find a place to dump them. From then on you’ll have to be Him. Or You. Whatever. No, that’s not straight you idiot.” He helped Randy pull on the armor, and then slung a gun over his shoulder before stuffing the old clothes back into the crate and closing it.

John shook his hand. “I guess we’ll never know if you make it. I’ll see your body swinging outside if you don’t though. Good luck.”

“What about the guard outside?” Randy asked. “Won’t he ask where the other person is?”

“Got it covered lad,” John said. “This isn’t my first party you know. Now, put your helmet on.” With that, and a final wink, he led his men off back outside, leaving Randy all alone in the storage area.

“So be it,” Randy said to himself. He put on the black helmet and secured it. Then, straightening his shoulders, he stepped out and walked along the passage into the kitchen.

The place was bustling with men and women in white cook outfits. Shouts for ‘more sauce’ and commands to ‘wash those plates’ rang through the kitchens. No one even glanced at Randy as he made his way around to the far door and slipped through.

Slowly and carefully, avoiding other guards wherever possible, he made his way through the palace, until he reached an area that was several grades higher in decor. Finding a private area to change took another few minutes, but he managed to slip into some small closet, literally under a staircase, and, not without some difficulty, take off his guard outfit.

Now he was in a fine dark red robe. It had a hood, which Randy pulled up over his head and hung low over his face. Finally he reached down and fumbled with his new leg, opening a small hidden recess and pulling out what looked like a tiny wooden cane. Pressing the button he’d been told to, the cane expanded, magician’s wand-like, into a walking stick.

“We don’t have many sightings of Him,” Amanda had said at his final briefing. “But our spies tell us that he often walks with a stick like this.”

Thus disguised as himself, Randy peered carefully out of the door. Questions would surely be asked if the ruler of the city was seen climbing out of a small cupboard beneath the stairs. The way was clear though, and he slipped into the corridor beyond.

Trying his best to feel confident, Randy made his way towards the main staircase.

“Don’t try and hide,” Amanda had advised him. “No one’s going to question you, so it’s balls out time at this point.”

“Balls out,” Randy mumbled, turning a corner and almost bumping into two fully clad Boots.

“Sir!” Both guards leaped back, jumping out of his way and saluting.

“Carry on,” Randy, stomach lurching under his robes, waved a hand as he walked on, remembering to lean on his cane.

He thought he heard one of the guards whispering a question at the other, but the second one shushed him, and Randy smiled. You don’t want to risk being heard by your boss, especially as the boss could have you executed at his whim.

“This might work after all,” he chuckled quietly.

He made his way up the large staircase he’d been led up before, and then managed to get slightly lost before wandering into what looked like private quarters.

Now he was beginning to worry, the longer he was there, the more chance of the ruse being rumbled. He decided to take a chance, and when he walked in on a maid folding cloth, he waved his stick at her.

“You, girl.” Randy tried to make his voice older.

Seeing who was talking to her, the maid nearly had a heart attack. She dropped her laundry and tried to curtsey at the same time, then stopped, started to pick the dropped material up before changing her mind and curtseying again.

“Stop your panic lass,” Randy said. “Just tell me where my wife to be is.”

“M… M… M… Miss Bennett?” she stammered.

“I’m not talking about mother goose now am I?” Randy said, trying not to enjoy the feeling of power he had.

“S… s… sorry sir. She’s in the blue room, as before sir.”

“She’s still there?”

“Yes?” The maid was trembling hard now, scared of saying the wrong thing no doubt.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he said gruffly, taking advantage of her fear. “Lead me to her.”

“Of course sir!” Red in the face, the maid gave one final glance at the dropped linen before twirling around and almost running off towards the nearest door.

“Not so fast!” Randy shouted. “Some of us aren’t young anymore.”

“S… s…”

“Sorry, yes I know. Get on with it.” He waved his cane, which made her flinch. Randy felt bad about scaring her, but if she stopped to think things through she may ask herself why he needed to be guided to the blue room all of a sudden.

His luck held. The journey lasted up a flight of steps and along another corridor to a set of double doors. She was stopped by two guards outside, but they quickly stepped back when they saw Randy.

“You can go,” Randy told the maid. “And don’t you go gossiping.”

With the world’s fastest bow, the maid had obviously given up on curtseys, she fled. Leaving Randy alone with the guards.

“Open it,” he said, waving his cane again. It seemed to work on the maid he reasoned.

“But sir…” one man said.

“No arguments!” he interrupted, going on the offensive. “And don’t interrupt us either,” he added, trying to cover his bases.

“Sir!” One man saluted whilst the other opened the door, allowing Randy to stride through. The door closed behind him.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” he muttered to himself, and then ducked.

The vase smashed against the wall behind him, followed by a screech.

“Bastard! You dare come here! I’ll tear your eyes out!” Claire, looking as radiant, if not a hell of a lot more angry, leapt at him, knocking him on to his back.

“Claire! It’s me!” he hissed as loudly as he dared whilst fending off her violent punches. “Ouch!”

It took a minute, and possibly some cracked ribs, but eventually she stopped attacking him and peered more closely into his hood. Finally she rubbed a finger along his cheek.

“Randy?” she asked. “Is that you?”

“The young me, yes. Did you think I wouldn’t come back for… mmmph.” He was cut off by her kiss.

“Oh Randy! I thought I’d never see you again!” she patted his face whilst Randy tried to regain his breath. “I can’t believe it! He was going to make me marry him!” she wept, tears dripping onto his forehead.

“Listen, I…”

They were interrupted as, with only the briefest of warning knocks, the door opened again, to allow entrance to none other than Randy’s old friend, Don.

“What on earth?” Don said, staring at the scene in front of him.

>>>>>>

Ooh! Well, the disguise worked better than I thought it would. Hopefully it didn’t come over as too rushed.

Okay, for this Suggestion Phase I need ideas not for Randy, but for Don. What will he do?

You know Don about as well as I do, from past chapters, so this is a chance to get some thoughts in about him as well. Does he hate what Randy turned in to? Or is he the ‘power behind the throne’?

Another fairly open choice here, but I like to throw these general ones out sometimes.

<<<<<<

Guest · Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 5:52 am Post subject:

Lets see, it starts to rain and then Randy is in trouble, because the make-up artist used the wrong make-up instead of supra grease make-up she used water activated make-up... the make-up starts running at the eyes or the plastics would curl because its a cheap latex piece.

Vishal Muralidharan · Joined: 24 Aug 2010 Posts: 867 Location: City Of IF!

Wonderful!!

Randy and Claire spill the beans, and Don !pretends! to start helping them and then betrays them later. ;)

Thunderbird · Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 9:46 am Post subject:

Don is actually an extra-terrestrial who has been controlling Older Self's mind and is extremely upset to see the younger self return. lol.

Ok its an idea anyhow.

I'm loving it C'ren. This chapter included some more elegant writing than usual. It got us through a lower 'charged' period in the tale and prepares us for yet more to come, giving us the opportunity to breath a bit first. Good job!

Chinaren · Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 11:11 pm Post subject:

Thanks fellows! There's been a couple of wonderful suggestions over on Tome that means this story may run for a bit longer than I'd thought, so if anyone wishes to go and vote for it in the splotlight comp, then it would be Good. ;)

A speedpoll should go up either later today or tomorrow, China time, so any more ideas get them in quick.

PopeAlessandrosXVIII · Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2011 8:30 pm Post subject: I Think.......

Yay! More fun time travel issues! *Giggles*

Poor loss of the leg, and, umns......I have to say JOHN CONNER!? REALLY!?! You had to, didn't you? I hit the floor with that one. Are you going to go anywhere with that one?

Oki, Done ranting, DP, DP......Kill your older self out of pity, and to make your life easyer. Not, Don has to deal with YOU! Go through with the weding as plqanned, tucking "Yourself" under your bed or somwhere else safe for a time. Then, I'm sure Clair will recognize you, get with her and try and work out a way to get back to the beginning of the mess and clean it up!

Good work!

Thunderbird · Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 7:50 am Post subject:

Very nicely delivered concept there Chinny!

The plot just thickens and thickens and thickens and twists and we slip on red herrrings and fish goes everywhere around these parts. LOVE IT! I think this is one of your best, just for plotwork alone if nothing else.

Keep it up!

I think at this point in time, they need to conspire to get those meds and work together towards that end. Older Randy has a lot of access to technology - firepower yes, but more tricksy stuff too. Spy gear from the future... good stuff. Tracers, chemical tags, those sorts of things. They need to trick Don into leading them right to the stash, or perhaps just consult with a scientist as to what could be done. This guy is the emperor, after all. Then its a simple matter of using his perception of power against Don by commanding the troops to back them.

Vikas Muralidharan · Joined: 29 Aug 2010 Posts: 600

Umm... I was about to post the suggestion of killing our older self... Crap.

But I like Thunderbird's suggestion of using our perception of power as well. Kinda cool.

About the writing, I really dont have to say much. Each chapter is just better than the previous one and I have got the feeling "There's nothing to improve on from here" quite a few times while reading this SG, but somehow, you seem to do something I cant put my finger on.

I Love it :)

Chinaren · Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 2:58 pm Post subject:

Okay, I've tried to whittle down the Suggestions into a few options. Some of these may kind of appear later anyway, but here's Randy's initial objective.

So, poll is up - stir the coffee of voting.

PopeAlessandrosXVIII · Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2011 6:08 am Post subject: I Think.......

Wowie funness!!!! This one's fun!

There was a little confuseing part when he did the thing with the door...It went from Don opening the door all the way to it closeing with no segway...might wanna work on that....

DP.........I'm guessing time isn't ALWAYS stopped in this place, so I go with....Run back to palace, and mess with some buttons...Then, once thuroughly messed with, try and find a guide to how to fix the mess you just made. If time starts again, then I tiiiink Don will be in trouble. I doubt the guy brought any defencive stuffs with, so he'll be in jail! Or at least in some major confusion. Open the protal back up and have some negotiateing fun....

Thunderbird · Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 7:47 am Post subject:

We have a good solid plan at the moment and throwing chaos into it with another choice suddenly sounds like a plain bad idea to me. I say we keep tracking him down.

Now, alternatively, we could go back and hit that button that closes the portal (I presume that may be why time is 'paused' as well... ) sending the film over the portal. Then we simply gather the troops and attack him on the other side.

But that seems like it could have huge pitfalls so I still think we're better off following the initial course.

Loved the chappy, C'ren, as always!

Vikas Muralidharan · Joined: 29 Aug 2010 Posts: 600

It just got better :)

DP? TRACK TRACK TRACK..... nothing else :P

Chinaren · Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 10:58 pm Post subject:

Poll is up then. Row the boat of voting.

And...
Quote: JOHN CONNER!

Hehe. You're the only person who seems to have spotted that one. ;)

Chinaren · Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2011 6:23 pm Post subject:

Poll is closed then. Next chapter should be up in about six hours.

Chinaren · Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 2:47 pm Post subject:

Poll will go up later today, (China time), so any ideas for this get them in quick.

Thunderbird · Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 4:58 pm Post subject:

Alrighty then, here ya go. A shiny new forum just for your excellent story! Another C'ren victory among many :)

Now then, finally caught up again AND... well... I think... um...

There should be plenty of information still derivable from the equipment here. Computers and such. Problem is that it won't operate quickly here. So we need to transport all research equipment over to the other side where we actually HAVE some time. There we can update things. But first, we need to make sure we are really friends and not just being duped by a clever jerk.

One niggle spot:
Quote: The statue-like guards on the other side were wearing a black uniform and had nasty looking rifle’s at hand. There's a couple of errors here, or perhaps better yet - there would be improved ways to express this statement. Try: The statue-like guards on the other side were wearing black uniforms and had nasty looking rifles at hand.

Now, I realize you were a bit worried about how the explanation may have come across but it seemed to flow pretty well for me. What it DID leave me wondering was what was the pillar he knocked out? Was it the war then? It just doesn't seem like that should be considered an unchangeable thing as it seems to have only begun thanks to tampering and manipulations so that makes me think we're being tampered and manipulated with in this discussion.

Chinaren · Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2011 1:43 am Post subject:

Ooh, nice idea there T! I can work with that. And duly added to the options.

So the poll is now up! Smile at the hot chick of voting.

Chinaren · Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 3:08 pm Post subject:

OMG, can't believe it's been so long since the last chapter! ~Slow warnings himself~

Another episode will be up tonight, or I'm not Shane McRamadadon.

Thunderbird · Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 11:29 am Post subject:

So... remind me... where did we send 'old' Randy?

I'm going to have to say our primary objective here is going to have to be recovering Claire and telling these bastards to go to hell. But more importantly... not worried so much about turning myself in right now. I mean, it seems we've got the ball rolling in the right direction and if we haven't then we have more to understand. I'm ready to 'turn myself in' knowing that this doesn't mean that older us has turned himself in as well...