Plot Bunnies to a good home (May be rabid)

[jgkitarel]

It was. Certainly put the WWII era Japanese soldiers into a different light, considering most war movies about that time tend not to show that the Japanese soldiers who fought were patriots themselves. Iwo Jima was a heroically fought defense for them and was the only land battle where they inflicted more casualties on the US than they suffered. I remember looking at a map of that island with all of the defensive positions marked. A good textbook example of why a 3:1 force ratio between attacker and defender is a minimum for assaulting a defensive location.

[Phht]

It's been years since I saw it, but I do recall it being good. Kinda wish more American directors/companies would do similar stories instead of mostly/entirely American viewpoints. (Having said that, I have more of The Pacific I ought to watch.)

[doc.exe]

It's worth mentioning that Flags of our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima are companion pieces. They were filmed and released almost at the same time and tell the story of the batlle of Iwo Jima from different POVs: One from the American, the other from the Japanese.

Now, as Mexican, I'm genetically predisposed to roll my eyes every time I see a World War II movie where America (or rather, the U.S.) "saves the day". But I really liked Flags because it takes a different approach and shows that soldiers are only ordinary people trying to do their best to serve their country, that the experience of war can be so traumatic and dehumanizing that it can change them forever, not to mention the deconstructive approach showing that sometimes some returning soldiers hailed as "war heroes" might have not done anything particularly heroic and just got lucky enough to survive. I want to watch Letters as well because it shows the perspective of the opponent side.

[jgkitarel]

Trust me doc, even Americans roll their eyes at the "America saves the day" cliche.

[gamebrain89]

I blame various people for getting me started on this tangent.

Spoiler: show

Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière is a girl of many feelings. Of many emotions. Not all of them bad, and not all of them good. In a different time, in a different place, she focused on the good as she poured her heart and soul into the words of her familiar summoning. Hope, that she would finally prove herself to everyone who had ever doubted her, to her classmates, to her family. A desire for something special. That emphasis lead to the summoning of one Saito Hiraga, and would change her life for the better. Eventually, anyway.

Unfortunately, that is not what happened this time.

This Louise could not help but dwell on the mocking faces of her classmates. On the blank expression of her mother's face. Her jealousy for the other students, who seemed to do magic so effortlessly compared to her. Deep in her heart, Louise despaired, believing all that had been said about her was about to be proven true.

Magic is not truly a thinking thing. It simply follows the guidance of the one who uses it. In this case, it did what it had done for every summoner since, and found the familiar best suited to Louise, in her current frame of mind. And so, in an expolosion and a cloud of smoke, a single, blackened silver coin with a sigil vaguely suggestive of an hour glass on one side appeared in Halkeginia, and changed their world forever.

[Tempest Kitsune]

Hooo boy.

[Thozmp]

And for those of us who don't recognize the object...?

[gamebrain89]

From the Dresden Files. Its one of 30 denarii that have Fallen Angels bound to them. This one is Lasciel. The Seducer, Webweaver and Temptress.

[someone]

I would still like to see a fic where she summons Jarod. Unfortunately he is way too sane for most authors.

[gamebrain89]

Who?

[Tempest Kitsune]

The Pretender. Either that, or he meant Jared, the Goblin King, but the crack about the summonee being too sane makes me lean towards the Pretender.

[JamestheFox]

Trying to work on revising XIII Ninja, but plot ideas keep popping in my head. Here's one: Ginny has a problem with diaries, right? Well, what if something caused Riddle's diary to be replaced with a different one...

One is fated to fill these pages. Know you her name?

And here's an idea of what the first chapter'd be like, because the bunny won't stop nibbling...

Spoiler: show

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” The redheaded girl turned, surprised, along with the black-haired, green-eyed object of her affections. She frowned at the snooty, pale blonde sneering in her direction. “The famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a bookshop without it making the front page.”

“Leave him alone,” the girl demanded, stepping in front of her companion. “He didn’t want all that.”

The smirk on the blonde’s face couldn’t get any wider. “Got yourself a girlfriend now, eh Potter?” He asked, bringing a deep blush to the girl, almost hiding her freckles.

“Harry! Ginny!” Called a familiar voice. She turned her head to see her (slightly) older brother walk up, a large stack of books in his arms.

“Ron!” The girl smiled.

“What’s going on over- Oh, it’s you.” The redheaded boy gave the blonde a look as though he wasn’t fit to be the gum stuck to his shoe. Stepping into view next to him was a girl with ruffled brown hair. “Surprised to see us, Malfoy?”
The girl frowned. ‘So this is Draco Malfoy? This is the prat that was causing Ron and the others so much trouble last year?’ Stories of midnight challenges, forbidden forests, and stolen Remembralls came rushing to the forefront of her mind.

“Only surprised to see you in a bookstore, Weasley.” The snob laughed derisively. “Bet your family will go hungry for a month to pay for all that,” he mused, gesturing to the books.
The girl felt a sudden weight as the books Ron had been carrying were added to the cauldron in her hands, next to the books Harry had only just given to her. Ron stepped forward, red as a tomato, but was stopped by his friends grabbing him by the collar.

"He’s not worth it, Ron,” Harry whispered as Ginny’s father, a balding man with a friendly disposition, pushed through the crowds to meet Harry and his friends.

“What are you all doing?” the Weasley patriarch asked as two identical teens, also redheaded, arrived behind him. “It’s too crowded here. Let’s go back outside.” Ginny agreed and turned to leave.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Arthur Weasley,” came a cruel-sounding drawl. Ginny looked over her shoulder to see a tall figure with the same cruel eyes and blonde hair as Draco, who must have been Draco’s father.

“Lucius,” Ginny’s father replied curtly.

“Busy time at the Ministry?” asked the elder Malfoy. “With all those raids, that is... I do hope they’re paying you for that overtime.” Ginny felt a chill as the man walked up and pulled out the used books in her Cauldron. “Though looking at these, I sincerely doubt it,” he continued, shuffling through the roughshod copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Year 1, and other such texts. “Dear me, what’s the use of being such a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

Mr. Weasley’s face blushed darker than either of his childrens’, as he huffed. “We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy.” He said pointedly.

“Indeed,” Mr. Malfoy retorted, looking past Ginny to the brown-haired girl. “With the company you keep…” He sniffed. “And here I thought your family could sink no lower.”

The utter chaos that ensued as her father, kind old Arthur Weasley, lashed out at Mr. Malfoy would go down in Ginny’s mind as the point where she was the most proud to be a Weasley. But at the time, it was just a large brawl between the two patriarchs, knocking shelves of books down and causing shouts throughout the store. Finally a giant of a man, who Ginny had seen earlier that day, walked up to the two combatants and pulled them off of each other.

“That’s enough of that.” The large man muttered gruffly. Mr. Malfoy glowered at his opponent for a few seconds before backing down, a small smile only barely noticeable on his face as he walked up to Ginny, shoving her books back into the cauldron.

“Take good care of them, girl,” he drawled. “After all, they’re the best your father could give you.”

Mr. Weasley looked like he was almost going to start another fight, but he froze when his wife, a plump woman with a look of fury in her eyes, grabbed his shoulder, proceeding to chew her husband out.

Ginny sighed as the group left the bookstore, and for a brief moment, wasn’t watching where she was going. In that moment, a decrepit old witch bumped into her, knocking the cauldron and a handbag to the ground, books and knickknacks that Ginny had never seen before spilling everywhere.

“Oh, sorry, sorry!” Ginny cried out as she stooped to pick the books up.

“Don’t fret, dear. We all lose track of ourselves sometimes,” The woman smiled as she collected her things quickly, finishing by picking up a ragged old book with the word ‘Riddle’ on the spine and placing it in her bag. She then aided Ginny in placing the rest of the books in her cauldron. “I know I lose myself all the time.” As the last textbook was placed in the cauldron, she stood up, and turned to leave as Ginny looked through her cauldron. Everything seemed fine, until she came across a strange book with no name and several straps keeping it shut.

“I don’t think Dad bought this… Hey, ma’am!” She called out to the lady, but she was already gone.

“Ginny! What are you doing? We’re leaving!” Ginny swallowed as she turned and ran after her family, placing the book in her cauldron.


Only a few feet away, in a side alley, the old woman smiled, pulling out the old book she had picked up. “You’ve been a very bad book, haven’t you? Yes, this trade will do just nicely…” She mused as she and the book faded away.



The book Ginny had been left with was easily opened, for there were no locks keeping the straps around the book tight. More difficult to overcome was Ginny’s own apprehension. ‘What if this is that old lady’s diary? I can’t just open up her private thoughts and read them… could I?’ She thought a little longer. ‘Oh, but why would she even carry a diary with her, anyway? How silly. And besides, wouldn’t she have noticed if it was that important? ’ She sighed. ‘Then, if it’s not a diary, then what is it?’

Her curiosity got the better of her.

She frowned as she undid the first few bindings, revealing an intricate X-like design, with a circle connecting each end of the X just before the reaching the tips. A simple blue gemstone was placed into the center of the X. Along the circle were the words: “Alta Oron Sondus Kameela.”

‘It looks like it’s worth a lot…’ Ginny frowned again, eyeing the gilded design. ‘Oh, I’m in so much trouble… Well, let’s at least see what it is. Maybe there’s an address on the inside…’

She opened the book.

Inside the book was no address, but she quickly found descriptions of a world far different from her own. She quickly felt herself drawn into the stories of heroism and ‘magick’ beyond anything she had ever heard of. Dragons and goblins unlike those she knew from her own world joined creatures made of slime and birds ridden like horses, and stinky, plant-like monsters with many eyes ravaged their habitats. Ships built from both Muggle technology and advanced magick flew through the skies like brooms, and faced off against aerial leviathans and pirates in the sky. There were a million stories in this small book, accompanied by illustrations on every page, and the more she read, the more she lost track of time, until she heard her mother calling up to her room the next morning, telling her that it was time to get ready to leave…

‘… For HOGWARTS! Oh no!’ Ginny panicked, quickly placing the book in her still-filled cauldron, packing bags with everything else she would need. Clothes, potions ingredients, quills, and parchment were haphazardly placed in her bags with almost no organization. She dashed out of her room, quickly freshening up and running down to get the cooling breakfast her mother had prepared.

The ride to King’s Cross was long for Ginny, who wanted to go back to reading the book she’d picked up, but reminded herself that her mother might not appreciate the fact that it was practically stolen. Still, she was really tired, having stayed up all night, and dozed a little on the ride, until they arrived at the train station. Ginny smiled to her mom as the family (sans Ron and Harry, for some reason) slid easily through the portal. Ginny waited for her brothers, until the last minute, when the train gave its last call.

‘I’m sure Harry and Ron are okay…’ Ginny thought to herself. ‘They can handle all this, just as long as they don’t do anything stupid…’

Sitting down in an empty car, she pulled out the book, and began reading again, gently passing through the thirtieth short story of the warrior Gaol and his “Moogle” (a small, furry creature known for their dexterity and the pom=poms attached to their head by a single strand of wire-like hair) partner, Lini. She smiled, reading of their battle against a great dragon. Gaol almost lost his legendary blue blade, only for Lini to throw it back to him.

The trust they had in each other made Ginny almost feel jealous. She could only assume that the old woman had written this, but it was amazing: it almost felt like everyone depicted in these pages could be real people… She turned the page.
The right page was empty. She turned a few more pages, only to find more of the same. She frowned. ‘Had the lady been working on it before dropping it?’

“That looks like an interesting book.” Ginny looked up to face a young blonde girl she recognized.

“Er, hello, Luna.” Luna Lovegood was a friend who didn’t live far from Ginny’s home, the Burrow. She was a bit odd, with eyes like a fog and the strangest clothing habits; it was not unusual for her to wear earrings shaped like radishes (or dirigible plums, as she insists), or a necklace made of butterbeer caps. Her wand was sitting securely behind her left ear.

The strange girl plopped down next to Ginny as she returned to the page the writing had stopped at. She looked to the left page, and was surprised to see a message.

“One is fated to fill these barren pages,” Luna muttered from over Ginny’s shoulder. “Know you their name? What a strange thing to write.” She pouted. “If you have already written over half a book,” she looked at the uncountable pages in the book that had already been passed. “… Why would you stop and write something like this?”

Ginny frowned at the message. The woman who had owned this book before her had been old, almost decrepit. It was likely that she wasn’t long for this world…

“Maybe… she wasn’t able to finish the book to her satisfaction, so she wanted to pass it on to someone else.” Ginny pondered aloud. “Is that why she left without it?” She looked back at the page. “Know you their name?” she repeated the book’s question. “Luna, do you have a quill?”

Luna pulled a quill and ink from somewhere behind her back. “Here you go.”

Ginny thanked Luna and, feeling rather silly, began to write.

ONE IS FATED TO FILL THESE BARREN PAGES. KNOW YOU THEIR NAME?

Yes. My name is Ginny Weasley, and I will fill these pages.

Ginny smiled as she gave the quill back to Luna.

“So you’re going to be a novelist?” Luna asked.

“… Yeah. That doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll have to practice first, but once I’m good enough…” She yawned. “Sorry… I just… I’ve been reading this all night…”

Luna smiled. “You look like it.” Ginny closed the book, and started to doze, and finally drift asleep…

A loud crash startled Ginny from her sleep. She looked around. The compartment had changed; it was wider and longer than the entire Hogwarts Express’ width, with a strange door on the opposite end of the windows. Ginny found herself sitting upright on a bed, and a table and other such niceties were bolted down to the floor. There was a knock on the door.
She glanced at herself quickly, only to find herself in a completely different outfit. Roomy red pants were tied at her ankles by a thread of similar color, and light brown boots replaced her sneakers. A belt secured the pants at her waist while also supporting a sheath with a familiar book inside. A sunny yellow blouse had replaced her white shirt, and she was wearing brown gloves. She also noticed a large white cloak with a hood over all of this. She looked at the door, which was still frantically knocking.

“Um… come in!” She said, getting off the bed and looking herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she grabbed her hood and lifted it up, revealing two cute cat-ear shapes on the top of the hood.

A man burst into the room, brandishing a sword. “My lady, brigands are attacking the train!” He looked behind him. “I was sent here to escort you to safety! We must leave now!”

Ginny was surprised and confused, but she decided to follow the man in front of her. She looked about, not seeing any of her things from the Hogwarts Express, and followed the man out of the room. There were more crashes, and the sound of explosions made it sound like her older twin brothers’ room was in every direction.

She followed the man as they progressed to the front of the train, and he opened a door.

Wind came bursting around them as they stepped out onto a car without walls. They climbs some stairs, and Ginny looked down as her cape flapped in the wind. Through the grating below she could see all manner of creatures, many of which she recognized only from the illustrations she had seen over the last day.

‘Am I dreaming?’ She asked herself, but no reply came. The car suddenly shook as the cars behind her detached from the train, only to explode.

“We have you now, lass!” Ginny looked to the side, as a large yellow ostrich-like bird jumped from the ground to the right of the train. A figure jumped off the bird (a Chocobo, Ginny reminded herself), and landed, his scarf billowing dramatically in the wind. Two more figures arrived on the train in the same way.

The leader stood there, knife in one hand. He wore a green bandanna, but a strand of blonde hair slipped from the headgear. He wore a fancy light-green shirt with silver cufflinks. A brooch with a silver snake held his scarf in place. His pants were a darker green, and were tucked into boots.

Ginny recognized the sneer on the boy’s face immediately. ‘Draco Malfoy?’

“Now, why don’t you just come with us quietly, hmm?” asked Draco. “We’ve got you outnumbered, and I promise we’ll let you go once we’ve got our prize...” The two big brutes behind Draco, one dressed in heavy armor and brandishing a large sword, and the other dressed similarly to Draco and carrying a bow, snickered.

“That’s right, moppet. Just come with us, and no one else has to die.” The brute in the armor stepped forward, only to suddenly stop in place.

“That’s assuming you’ve had some say in who dies, kupo.” A small creature with white fur and a yellow pom-pom bouncing from some kind of wire atop its head stood atop the car just ahead. It (’she?’) wore a blue dress with a bronze brooch shaped like an eagle taking flight, and little brown boots and gloves cover its ears. A strange, radish-shaped amulet hung from one of its two long ears. “You haven’t killed anyone at all today, as I recall.” She tilted her head. “Though your archer did knock my favorite hat off my head.”

“Mad Mage Lovegood.” Draco cursed under his breath. “Should have known that wouldn’t be enough to kill you.”

“Luna!” Ginny called happily, finally recognizing her friend despite her shape of a moogle.

“It’s good to see that the wrackspurts didn’t get you, kupo.” Luna jumped to the car Ginny was on, using her wings to guide her descent so she landed next to Ginny. “I would really have had to punish Mr. Finnegan…”

The soldier at Ginny’s side gulped.

“… and your parents would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t get you to Gariland for your training at Hogwarts.”

The time-stopping spell faded and the man finished his step forward before backing away a bit. “Wait… didn’t we just kill you in that explosion?”

“Go ask your friends after this is over,” Luna replied, pulling a staff twice her height from a pocket on her coat. “Miss Weasley, just stay back, kupo. Mr. Finnegan and I will take care of things here.”

Luna waved a staff, whispering something that sounded like “Haste, kupo,” and suddenly everything seemed to be moving slower. Luna performed the same act twice more, and she and Mr. Finnegan suddenly moved at normal speed again. In that time, the archer lifted up a bow and shot at Ginny, who barely dodged.

“We’re almost in the city…” Mr. Finnegan noted as he charged at the armored man, who was barely able to block his attack. “Once we get there, the Law will be in effect… Miss Lovegood, do you know what the law is there?”

Luna smiled. “Gravity, kupo.” A dome of a black substance Ginny couldn’t identify surrounded Draco, causing him to trip and fall. “Surely you checked before we embarked on this mission, right? Because otherwise, I’ll have to punish you for incompetence.”

Mr. Finnegan paled. “Erm, um… Well… I forgot.”

Luna jumped on top of Draco, prompting a slow motion grunt from the prone pureblood. “I see. I’ll let it slide, kupo, but don’t forget again.” She then lunged at the archer, whacking him over the head.

“No use of fire element techniques, so we’re good just as long as Miss Weasley dosen’t pull any fireballs out, kupo.”
Ginny watched as Mr. Finnegan knocked the armored man off the train, which seemed to be moving so slowly. Luna whacked the archer a few times with her staff.

“This. Is. For. My. Hat!” She gave one final swing. “KUPO!” The archer fell off the train.

Draco had gotten up, and quickly (for a given definition of quickly) looked at his situation, jumping backwards off the train as he began speaking incomprehensibly slowly. The slow-motion squawk of a Chocobo confirmed he had landed safely. The spell deactivated, and Ginny could finally understand what Draco was saying.

“-won’t be so lucky!” Ginny watched as Draco and his goons fled on Chocobo back.

“Feel free to try again sometimes, snakes! We’ll be ready for you!” Mr. Finnegan called out, only for Luna to jump and cling to the back of his head.

“That isn’t necessary, kupo.” Ginny laughed as the two fell to the ground. She looked to the front of the train, and then she saw it:

The Magical City of Gariland, a glowing metropolis of machines and seemingly endless fireworks. In the distance, an old castle loomed on a cliff over a lake. Ginny’s breath caught. Hogwarts, exactly as all of her brothers had described it.

The gemstone on the book at her side glinted off the setting sun’s light…

[TraceReading]

The Pretender. Either that, or he meant Jared, the Goblin King, but the crack about the summonee being too sane makes me lean towards the Pretender.

But the Goblin King is JarETH. Not JarED. :p

[Tempest Kitsune]

The Pretender. Either that, or he meant Jared, the Goblin King, but the crack about the summonee being too sane makes me lean towards the Pretender.

But the Goblin King is JarETH. Not JarED. :p

Ah, my mistake.

[jgkitarel]

Hmm, I should not mix alcohol and reading. All of a sudden I had an image of Naruto trained by Lucivar Yaslana, Hinata and Anko taking lessons from Surreal SaDiablo, Sakura learning from Jaenelle and Daemon meticulously breaking down Jiraya's works and telling him their inadequacies in great detail while Saetan and Sarutobi are trying not to laugh.

[SLAMU]

So, lately I've been reading a story called Worm, which is the story of a young girl and her forays into the world of superheroes and villains. There are a number of cape tropes explored, as well as interpersonal drama and morality poked at with a stick. Why am I bringing this up? Well, for one interdimentional gateways are canon (if only touched on briefly).

Spoiler: show

Brockton Bay didn't have much more in it. After weeks of internal strife and being bombed by a gang lead by a Tinker who specialized in explosives, attacked by an Endbringer and (because things come in threes), a visit from the Slaughterhouse Nine, the metropolis on the eastern seaboard was teetering on the brink of failure, of becoming another Newfoundland. Between the casualties and evacuations, the city was beginning to feel abandoned already, flooded streets and rubble, shattered glass everywhere and any technology advanced enough to use a microchip having been killed, the local residents were living somewhere between "hand to mouth existence" to anarchic tribes preying on the weak.

The image of skyscrapers toppled, trees uprooted by tidal forces and the crater-lake that filled what used to be downtown made it look like "A war zone. My lord, what happened here?" Cyborg could have tapped into the Javelin's exterior cameras using an implanted wireless device, but he preferred to use his eyes. Well, eye and optic scanner/barcode reader.

"Nothing good." Zatanna responded behind him. "It's like Katrina hit and decided to explode."

Batman said nothing, opting to take the ship down.

---

Jack Slash turned his head towards the door as it was kicked in by a man in a purple and green suit. "Why hello, little girls and boys! I hear you're terribly bored and need some frowns turned upside down. Well never fear, Joker's here!"

JLA/Worms, for the uninitiated.

[Minion]

Returning from the brink of death, two souls are each carried to the wrong body. Aang wonders why his new (hopefully temporary) companions look at him as though he were a rabid dog? Mugen wonders who the fuck this Avatar kid is, and why does his breath smell like onions and bananas?

[Tempest Kitsune]

Aang is probably a dead man. Mugen? Is probably going to tear Ozai to SHREDS.

[jgkitarel]

Wait, Mugen taking Aang's role? Oh shit.

[Jasruv]

Where does Mugen come from?

When I try to google it I get references to the fighting game.

[Tempest Kitsune]

Samurai Champloo. He was a former pirate who had created his own insane fighting style that was a combination capoeira, break-dancing, and parkour with knives and metal-soled geta. He was also nominally insane and a Ratel in human form attitude-wise.

[jgkitarel]

Yeah, hence the "Oh shit" comment.

[Minion]

In other words, they're total opposites. In this scenario, I'd find it interesting if their actions were restricted/motivated by the morals and principles of each body's original soul. Perhaps there is a lesson they can each learn from each other (Aang: be more ruthless, Mugen: don't be psycho) and until they do, they're souls will remain switched.

Also, they're fighting styles, while opposite in philosophy, are quite similar in movement, both free flowing. I think Aang's got a chance in Mugen's body.

[jgkitarel]

If he manages to learn the necessary ruthlessness quckly enough to stay alive. Though, you can kick the Nickelodeon kids stuff in the nuts if you want. Aang can be plenty ruthless without coming off as a cold blooded bastard.

Probably one of the biggest issues with Western media is that ruthlessness, along with ambition, tend to be tied with being a bad guy and that the good guys tend to lack one of those traits. Usually the ruthlessness, which is when in the role of a protagonist, tends to be with the Antihero. It wasn't all that long ago when both were actually considered positive traits, so long as they weren't taken too far.

[Tempest Kitsune]

I don't know, Aang's Staff fighting and Mugen's style of sword fighting aren't exactly similar, plus Mugen did a lot more with his legs and feet than Aang usually did. For example, Mugen's usual method of parrying a sword strike was by using the metal plates on the soles of his geta.