|
Post by JMC47 on Nov 23, 2004 12:20:49 GMT -5
Fandom: Megaman Legends Title: #40's revenge Subject: A day in the life of #40 Wordcount: 385, but you can subtract 85 is you want Pairing (if applicable) : None Rating: TV14(maybe PG, I don't know) Notes I'm not sure if this one is any good At precisely 5:00 AM, all the servbots were at rest, except me, #40, who took an hour to do whatever I wanted.
I was mad at Tron for the day before, punishment is so unfair I thought.
After making sure his stash and “special” magazines were not found, I thought of ways of getting back at Tron.
First I did well known stuff for kicks. I put her Bra in the freezer, her finger in a cup of water.
But I still longed for a definite way of getting back at her.
Then a stroke of genius came over me, her diary.
After finding the secrets about Megaman and kimotoma, I put the diary back.
Now 7:00 AM, the other servbots were awake. Tron had 5 Servbots cleaning her bed, and she seemed like she was pretty angry.
She had put out numerous allegations with no success.
10:00AM, Tron was taking a shower, I raided her room (the other servbots were not around, breakfast.) Throwing out all her clothes (and burning other clothes.)
Tiesel, just getting up asked why I wasn’t eating breakfast.
I said upset stomach (Servbots do not have stomachs), Tiesel believed me.
12:00 PM, Tron is wearing some of Tiesel’s cloth, very amusing I thought.
Tron prepared for a raid on Pokte Village. I told data, he was a close buddy of mine, and he helped me find my magazines.
I told him to have Megaman at Pokte Village by 4:00.
2:00 PM, I have put gas cans and other ignitables in the gustaff she will be using, just like last time before kimotoma, the diary told me my plan worked last time, so I was hoping it work again.
3:45 PM, I tipped off news crews about the developing situation.
4:30 PM, I am in the punishment chamber, Security Camera’s revealed everything I have done, but the look on Tron’s face in the middle of the village after her gustaff exploded (news crews, and people watching) was completely worth it.
9:00PM I went into my chamber, angry at Tron, I used some of my stash to relieve the pain.
10:00PM after looking at my magazines for an hour, I went to bed.
5:00 AM, I was mad at Tron for the day before, punishment is so unfair I thought.
|
|
|
Post by aarond on Nov 23, 2004 18:33:20 GMT -5
A good idea, Justin, but you keep switching between first and third person viewpoints. Unless you yourself were also a character besides Number Forty. Anyway, I find it strangely appropriate that the Servbots put Tron's brassiere into the freezer.
|
|
|
Post by Bureaucratic Model 1-3 on Nov 23, 2004 20:12:11 GMT -5
Yeah, and you really should put some spaces between the sentences because that really does make it hard to read, and with this one at least all the different entries could have been new paragraphs, but, then again, I'm not one to speak, BTW I'll be posting one soon, so keep your eyes on this space . Sincerely yours, BM 1-3
|
|
|
Post by JMC47 on Nov 23, 2004 21:11:59 GMT -5
I new to this drabble thing, don't burn me, I'll seperate it right now. The problem was that I made it in third person originally, but then right before I posted changed my mind, sorry, I'll fix what I can find.
Edit: I think I fixed everything now
|
|
|
Post by Bureaucratic Model 1-3 on Nov 24, 2004 0:12:37 GMT -5
We're not burning you, even though its a less visible part editing is one of the most important parts of publishing there is. It's also probably he hardest, because after you've looked at a piece of paper a hundred times you can really get sick of it for a while... that's why people who know what they're talking about don't say writers don't work hard enough...
Plus one big paragraph can be necessary, or it can be painful, a good writer has to figure out when to do which...
|
|
|
Post by aarond on Nov 24, 2004 20:59:57 GMT -5
Yeah, it's just constructive criticism. It's important to make your works more legible, and therefore, more people will want to read them.
Bluaaaaaaaghhhh
|
|
|
Post by Bureaucratic Model 1-3 on Nov 24, 2004 22:05:03 GMT -5
Fandom: Legends Title: It is entirely fashion able to… Subject: A day in the life… of #40 Wordcount: You can count on me… I mean you can count FOR me. Pairing (if applicable): #40 & Hellfire and d**nation Rating: G for GOOD Notes: Forgive me, I couldn't stop until it was finished…
"Hey #40!" a #12 shouted, "Aren't you coming to dinner?"
"No!" he shouted back, "I don't need dinner and I don't need you!"
#12 looked at him weird for a second and quickly queued up for dinner.
Need I even say #40 wasn't in a good mood. Just yesterday Miss Tron had handed out her red top piece to #1 and his feelings were hurt.
"I'm just as good as #01!" he kept telling himself, with all the conviction of a doornail. "Miss Tron said she liked us all, but I don't see why… I mean, I… Oh, forget this," he said running down to the dorms and looking at he magazine Miss Tron had given him that fateful day. 'Adventures of the uncommonly good looking nekid girl!'
Half an hour later the other servbots crowed in the room and started getting ready for bed. He quickly put the magazine away and started staring at the ceiling.
"Hey good going #01," #29 said, as #01 walked past, "can I get a closer look at it tomorrow?"
"Sure!"
#40 rolled onto his side, facing the wall and held his mouth shut. Slowly all the little lights flickered out in the dorm but his. He couldn’t sleep. He was in a sour mood, had an empty stomach and, not the least of his worries, no respect. Put that all together and it spells No Sleep for #40.
After wasting an hour thinking about death, and why he hated all those other rat @&$@%; he turned the light out and made for the deck. It was a clear night, and the stars shone out forever. Somewhere out in the distance was a city with it's electric glow. "What's wrong with me!" he shouted to no one and every one.
"What's wrong #40?" Tron asked.
She couldn't sleep either.
"Oh! Miss Tron!" he shouted, in surprise.
"Yes."
"Sorry, I should be in bed…"
"#40 were you at dinner tonight?"
"Ummm…"
"Why not?"
"I wasn't hungry."
"…"
"I wasn't…"
"What's wrong?" she said walking over the railing besides him and kneeling down.
"What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing's wrong with you, you seem to be working alright, you haven't been slacking off have you?"
"No, but…"
"Then what's wrong?"
"…Why did… #01…"
"Ohhh… You're jealous…"
"I'm not jealous! I'm just…"
"You want to know why I gave it to #01 and not you?" The servbot nodded. "Well let me ask you a question. Why didn't you eat dinner tonight?"
"… because my tummy hurt…"
"Do you know the last time #01's tummy hurt so bad he couldn't eat?" the servot shook his head. "Last night after I gave him the red head piece."
"But he was still in the cafeteria…?"
"Exactly. #01 takes himself very seriously, and never misses the chance to make an impression. Even though his stomach hurt so bad he couldn't eat, or sleep last night either he still sat in the cafeteria to keep everybody company, and to keep an eye on everybody, while I was busy designing a new Gustaff wing."
"You never eat with us!"
This wasn't entirely true, but too true to deny. "Exactly. That's why, among other reasons, I needed to give it to someone who always ate with you. Even when his tummy hurt…"
"Ohhhh! I get it now…" he said quietly.
"Does your stomach feel better?"
"Yes, but I'm still hungry…"
"Then lets go down to the Cafeteria and I'll warm you up something you like."
"OKAY!" he said grabbing her hand and holding her back for half a second before heading down the hatch. "Miss Tron?"
"Yes?"
"What's the name of that town over there?"
"That's Kattelox town. We'll be landing tomorrow. Be sure to get a good nights rest because there's a big day a head of us tomorrow!"
"I'll try my best… Miss Tron… mama…"
|
|
|
Post by GustaffGlyde on Nov 24, 2004 23:16:58 GMT -5
Well, I hope you guys don't mind if I interrupt your fun. I told BM 1-3 I'd drabble if the theme changed, so here I am. Anyways, I hope you guys don't mind me having almost twice the allowed numder of words. I just can't bring myself to write short things... Fandom: Title: Pink, Red, and Dead Subject: A day in the life of #40 Word count: 593 ... what?... Rating: PG or PG13… it is #40 after all Notes: Well, here is my first attempt at a drabble. I hope it isn’t too bad… Hopefully going over the word count limit isn't too bad of a thing. Also, I just guessed that if #40 sniffed Tron’s bed, that wouldn’t be all he sniffed… The little yellow servbot, otherwise known as #40, lay on the queen sized pink bed. His strange eyes were half closed as he stared at the ceiling. In his little claw of a hand law a small pink pair of women’s lingerie. Actually, his entire body, except for his oddly shaped head, was covered in a heap of colored panties. He sighed, holding the small pink panties up to where he his nose would be. “What are you doing?” came a strange voice from the hallway. #40 jumped from the bed, panties flying everywhere. “I…I… I was... ummm… I was… Oh yeah, I was told to put away Miss Tron’s laundry!” replied #40, relieved that he had an excuse. “Well, you had better get your job done, or Miss Tron will be veeeeery angry!” The strange chef like servbot said as he waltzed on down the hallway. “Oh no, he’s right… Miss Tron’ll… eeeep” #40 worriedly squealed. He immediately began running around the bed, flinging the panties into the laundry basket. He then proceeded to stuff them into her drawer, but as he was finishing up he hid a small pink pair of underwear behind his back. He slowly stepped out of the room, inching his way along with his back to the wall. “Hey you! What do you think you’re doing!?” came the booming voice of Teisel Bonne. “Today is a big day you know. Today is… what?” Teisel stopped suddenly, looking at #40, who appeared simply terrified. “Oh wait, you’re that #40 right?” Teisel asked the frightened little guy. “Well, it’s you’re lucky day, because Tron says that you’re excused from combat duties. You’re supposed to be… a … oh yeah, you’re in charge of Tron’s room… right?” Teisel began to walk off, heading for the dinning room. # 40 chased after him, jumping up and down trying to grab something. Teisel turned around, starring at #40 with an odd look on his face, but he continued on his way after #40 ran off to Tron's room. Upon entering the dinning room, the sound of metal clanging was heard as all the servbots turned and starred at Teisel. Tron walked up to Teisel, her face red. “Teisel, what are you doing!” She shouted, waving her arms around. “What? What did I do?” Teisel confusedly asked, looking around at everyone. Tron proceeded to grab a pink pair of panties out of Teisel’s hair. “What is the meaning of this!?” Tron asked, looking as though she was about to kill someone. “I… I don’t know” Teisel said, baffled. “Hey, wait a second… that little servbot, what was his name… #50 I think, yeah. He must have done it.” Teisel announced triumphantly. “There is no #50” Tron blurted out. #40 was sitting on Tron’s bed, crying. “What am I going to do? Miss Tron will kill me” he cried. He then heard the sound of someone yelling. Upon reaching the hall way he saw Tron dragging Teisel to the torture room with an absolutely ghastly look on her face. Tron paused, starring at #40. “Hey you, put these away” Tron said, tossing the panties at #40. “What… just… happened?” #40 slowly said. He then fell back down on the bed, holding the panties in his hand. “What a strange day” he sighed to himself, the sounds of Teisel screaming in the background. He was glad that for once it wasn’t him in that accursed room. #40 slowly drifted off into a deep sleep, the panties still on his head as he lay on Tron’s bed…
|
|
|
Post by aarond on Nov 25, 2004 10:24:33 GMT -5
Hey, BM 1-3, yours was great. The only thing that seemed out of place was the @#$@!, which really wasn't that big of a deal, anyway. I can see Forty being that totally insecure. That was really cute, although a little syrupy, but not in the bad way...in the GOOD way.
GustaffGlyde, yours was hilarious. The Number "50" thing made me laugh out loud. I hope Teisel can survive the torture room.
|
|
|
Post by Bureaucratic Model 1-3 on Nov 25, 2004 15:07:52 GMT -5
Yeah, good job! More Drabblers + More Fun 4 Everyone... Thanks, about my story I was going to cut it off earlier, exactly at the 'what's wrong with me' part. It would have been within the word limit, but I just wasn't feeling it. I mean I don't particularly like #40, but I'm not one to leave anybody in a suicidal mindset, for little or no reason....
|
|
|
Post by aarond on Nov 25, 2004 15:27:25 GMT -5
Yeah, it would have been a completely different story had it finished at that point rather than where it actually did.
|
|
|
Post by Notmyname on Nov 26, 2004 10:28:05 GMT -5
Here i am. i got board to death, i'm probably the worst writer in this universe but. here we go!
Fandom: What do you think? MMLS-S=MEGAMAN LEGENDS Title: the day that tron wasn't so mean. Subject: A day in the life of #40 Wordcount: God, i made it in notepad. i'll count it then, i dont have ms word. Pairing (if applicable) : None Rating: Teen, like motb in europe. Notes: PLEASE! I'M SOO BAD AT THIS, GIVE ME A BREAK Servbot #40 was so perverted.
He saw a computer, so he luanched it. then he noticed something: it wasn't locked. he found a desktop like one in a house computer.
He now knew what happened. the program failed to lock the pc. he played minesweeper for a while, becuase he had nothing to do.
tron discovered something quickly, a computer that had a BIG HUGE do not operate sign over it was being used.
#40 apperentely knocked over the sign. #40 saw a program called quest, And thought "Wow! i want to go on quest!"
He press tab 2 times to get to quest, and luanches it. now he makes his own text quest. as teisel entered the other door, as the servbot left the room.
The quest was to get to trons bed from behind her and lick it. it was on, and tesiel of course, could resist a nice text quest.
He got in alot of trouble when tron finally came in, seeing teseil on the ground luaghing; her vains poped out and her face turned red after she played it.
that night, the servbot was severely turtured. it was so bad, even tron felt devistated. she cried thinking about it.
#40 just layed down, drinking "A Mysterious drink he found and the street". he vomited, on trons book. then he discovered something that would change his life after reading it
"KATTT-ET-ET" He studdered loudly "KATTLOX! I KNOW WHY NOW!!!" He Screamed. He forgot how nearby tron was.
Trons mouth opens and closes in her deep sleep twice. #40 is now confused and takes 3 good steps toward the door of trons room
Now, #40 remembers there is reality and he just made noise. tesiel had come to her room, with the servbot already under the bed
Tron mumbled "M-Me-Man". Teseil is confused to death. Tron Mumbles clearly "Megaman, why? i love you"
Teseil understood it but didn't get it. number 40 laughs lightly after tesiel leaves. the next morning, tron is cheerful.
#40 says "Hey tron, have you been thinking about megaman?"
Tron Says,"Well... YOUR THIN... AND, BLUE... And... GOING TO BE KILLED! YOU DON'T SAY MEGA AND MAN AND SAME DEMENSION AS ME!"
#40 Once again is turtured after being chased down. but to all the other servbots she is nice and cheerful. they all enjoyed the day that tron wasn't so mean.
|
|
|
Post by Fire Griffin on Nov 27, 2004 15:01:08 GMT -5
Quick drabble drop off. @_@ Sorry, I did read these – I’ll comment on them later. I’m about to go shopping so I’m being nice and giving this to you a few hours/days early. Awww.
Fandom: Megaman Legends Title: Wonderbra Subject: A Day in the Life of #40 Wordcount: 551 – WATCH ME HOP ON THE LONG DRABBLE BANDWAGON! Pairing (if applicable) : #40 x his Doom Rating: PG, I guess. I said “boobie” Notes: I didn’t do it.
Number Thirty-One threw up his arms in exasperation. “We need a new idea! Thirty-Two, how are things on your end?”
Thirty-Two looked over his scribbles of dragons and flaming skulls and Miss Tron, frowning and perhaps scowling. “Nothing! Quit asking me!”
“Gah!” The servbot would have been tugging at his hair if he had had any. “How about you, Thirty-Three?”
Thirty-Three shrugged, rolling a bottle back and forth along the table, trying his best to make it look scientific.
Thirty-One made a face. “Okay, Thirty-Four. How about-?”
“I’m blank!” the servbot cried while balancing a large slab of metal. He lost his balance and fell over. “Oof!”
“Miss Tron is going to be so mad!” Thirty-One wailed, clutching at his head.
As if on cue, notorious Number Forty overhead the conversation in the Development Room as he cruised down the Gesellschaft’s hallway. Today had been a particularly good day so why not help his fellow older brethren with his enlightened intellect and superior luck?
“Hello, guys!” he chimed in, poking his fat, yellow head into the room.
Thirty-One did not look impressed, as with the other servbots in the room. “Oh, great! You! How are you going to help us?”
Forty clung tightly to his precious prize. “Help you with what?”
“We need a new weapon, upgrade, something! We’re desperate!”
The other servbots looked back around at each other. The room was silent before Thirty-Two leaned in, mumbling:
“Are we that desperate?”
Thirty-One slammed him on the side of the head with a rod that was lying around on the floor. “Yes! That desperate!”
Thirty-Three continued to roll his bottle back and forth on the table. Forty, on the other hand, was scratching his head the best he could, his other claw still hidden.
“Oooh, oooh!” He suddenly burst in, the other servbots catching a flash of something pink. “I know!”
“Oh great,” Thirty-Two grumbled, adding some consummate v’s to his ferocious dragon. “I wonder.”
Forty did not catch that, fortunately, looking for a pair of the roundest whatevers he could find around the room. Eventually, a wad of paper and a little, plastic hamster ball was set into the pink strap of curvy cloth. After some debate, the deactivated Gustaff made an acceptable pair of prongs. The servbots watched with interest.
“Check it!” Forty gloated, pulling back on the pink sling. “It’s the Double-Barreled-Boobie-Blaster!”
The paper went nowhere while the hamster ball was launched across the room, ricocheting off the wall and to the desk, effectively knocking poor Thirty-Three’s bottle away. The servbots collectively “ooh-“ed, except for Thirty-Three, who was scrambling to recover his poor bottle and saying things a servbot should not be saying underneath his little “breath.” Forty bowed.
“Thank you! Thank you! No need for applause!”
“But,” Thirty-One thoughtfully said, stroking his “chin.” “Where did you get it from? Where can we get more of this slingshot?”
The servbots were startled when a red-faced Tron exploded into the room, her fingers squeezing into the doorframe as if they were claws.
“Alright!” she growled. “Someone was in my bra drawer this time! Where is my bra? I counted seventeen bras instead of eighteen! Someone fess up!” Her eyes darted around the room, Forty trying to shrink away but no avail. “Number Forty!”
“The Gustaff did it?” Forty cringed.
|
|
|
Post by JMC47 on Nov 27, 2004 16:36:18 GMT -5
I've heard of the Bonne Bazooka, but not the Bra bazooka. What was I thinking when I thought of this topic. is this #40 , or this , , ;D I can't tell which smilily is #40, BTW I spelled smilily wrong . Why must #40 be a bad servbot. I'm going to try to make a Drabble explaining his actions in MOTB.
|
|
|
Post by Bureaucratic Model 1-3 on Nov 28, 2004 20:43:59 GMT -5
Good luck... Good drabble Fire "Brazzeir Bomber" Griffin, Servbot #40 wasn't gonna' get away that time! BTW, Not My Name, I liked your drabble, but you should really get ms word or something compatible, because the notepad is just awful... I'd know... don't ask... . (In case your wondering that 'Never kiss a girl in Crimeopolis' story was edited about five times and you'll noticed I STILL made a lot of mistakes… thus is writing, so never feel bad about editing.)
|
|