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I am the entrance into nothing, and the euphoria associated with electronic tings.

Monday, October 26, 2009

RANKS OF GLORY

RANKS OF GLORY

The buildings were red. Their roofs were black. They were uniform, and each reached to the twilight sky, with their eyes trained on the orange clouds and their faces turned away, in a manner of superiority, from the ground from whence they came. Select buildings had neon signs, advertising empty candy shops and drawing attention to a marquee with a desolate and overcast single box-office. The sun was always setting somewhere in between the high skyline, and the sky was always warm and simmering with orange and red and gold-gilded clouds. The outline of the ambitious regulars with their two or three black-framed windows apiece was hazy in the eye of the sun, and the twilight always seemed to swallow up the edges, giving the buildings an infinitely indefinite form.
On the gray, lifeless sidewalk underneath a flickering neon sign sat a boy. It was as if he was sitting apart from the sidewalk, though, on another planet which boasted life and energy. His face, though pale, was bright with possibility and his dark eyes were aglow with persistence. He sat only for a second, with his elbows on his beige shorts and his hands intertwined with his black hairs. His eyes were darting, and he was thinking, wondering where he'd look next. His leg was shaking, still only at his toes which were enshrouded in a red shoe. He wasn't sweating yet, but he sat up to wipe his forehead with his hand, as if preparing the slate for the cool profuse that was to seep from his pores onto his freckled face.
He lifted his head and beamed into the orange twilight. He turned around hurriedly and lunged for his vintage blue bike-- a Shoal700 with a petite frame and black handlebars, and handbrakes on both sides and flaking blue paint, that he had be given on his seventh birthday. He pushed the ground with his foot, alternating between left and right, using the lifeless, gray sidewalk to provide his bike the momentum it needed to drive him towards fascination and play.

The boy rode past the red buildings, returning their apathy with his eyes ahead on the black, lusterless, unmarked road. His bike wheels spun past the forest of red buildings that stood all by themselves; bodies with no intestines, eyes with no heart. There was nothing standing beneath the marquees, no feet planted on the gray sidewalk, no color other than red moving forwards and backwards in the boy's peripherals. And so he rode, on the main street, towards the Government.
The blue bike slowed down when it reached the center of the city, where the red buildings were even redder, and their noses turned higher to the air. The always-setting sun was snuffed out behind a wall of black roofs, and the twilight sky was only allowed to boast its dark orange tint.
The boy came to a halt, squeezing both handbrakes and letting his red shoes skid along the asphalt. His eyes were fixed on the divider between Government and all else; a solid black line that made everything in front of him darker than it was behind. He screwed up his face, thinking again, his eyes slightly dulled by the darkness that ran up walls and engulfed roads, and his skin a little paler as the color ran into the nothingness in front of him. He sat on his black bike seat; his toes planted gingerly on the ground and his face resting heavily in his hands. The air stirred slightly around him, growing impatient with his stillness, urging him to cut through its currents and pleasure it with the interaction that it had so missed.
However, the boy still sat with his toes planted gingerly on the ground, and his hands resting between strands of hair. His eyebrows were caved inwards, and his eyelids were closed over his eyes. He dropped one hand on the handlebar, and with a sigh, he released his eyes to embrace what was in front of him, and brought his hand to hold the other handlebar. His right hand played with the right handbrake, and with another sigh and a shake of his head, he lifelessly pushed his bike on his tip-toes towards the darkness.

He got off of his bike on the right side, and walked it forward. His steps were silent in the silence, broken only by the clicking sound of the gears of the bike finding their places in the grooves of the chain, working to perpetuate a joint relationship of pulling and grooving.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

RANKS OF GLORY!

I'm going to write a animated film about Ranks of Glory. His name will probably have to be changed, but I am going to do it.

It is going to be about Ranklin', who lives in an awesome city of twilight called Oracle. The buildings are all tall and scarlet red, and have glowing neon signs EVRYWHARR. The sidewalks are pale gray, and grass is never seen. The only transportation on the empty streets are blue bicycles with black handlebars and rusty bike chains. The people of the city are tall men with black and white striped coats and top hats.

The city of Oracle was at war.
After his father finished his room...
He was dragged out of the house by soldiers.
His mouth was open, he was screaming.
Looking past his family with crazed eyes.
He had black hair and glasses.
Shot to father's fingers breaking wood off of door.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Ranks of Glory

Name and age?
Ranks Of Glory.
He's 13.

Nickname? Who gave it?
Ranklin'. His imaginary friend, Stuart.

What is most noticeable about your character’s appearance/physical presence? How does he or she feel about it?
He has large eyes, black hair, is 4'11" and very skinny; not really deserving of the name Ranks Of Glory.

Describe his or her voice, verbal ticks, pet phrases etc.
His voice is low, and he tends to apologize a lot. He frequently says, "too tired."

Describe a gesture your character makes.
He rubs his eyes too much.

Where does he or she now live? Describe the city, town or village, the house itself. Be very specific. It doesn’t have to be in Canada. Any feelings about this place?
He lives in a decrepit city filled with towering scarlet buildings. The sky is often orange, like twilight on an October day. The sidewalks are dry gray, and the city seems empty, but the streets are tread by grown men with black coats and top hats, and legs like stilts. Ranks can only see their chin. There are some buildings with luminous lights, advertising the nothingness inside of them. The only transportation in the city are old blue bicycles with rusty chains and black handlebar-grips. There are playgrounds and no schools.

Has s/he lived elsewhere? What does s/he remember of these places?
No. He's lived in Oracle his whole life.

What part of her home is her favourite? Least favourite? Why. Describe, using specific details.
His favorite part of his house is an add-on his dad made before he died. It's dark with black and white striped wallpaper. There's a ring of dull yellow and red light bulbs that runs around the walls. His imaginary friend Stuart stays in this room, sitting on a chair in the center. Ranklin' comes down to play with new things that Stu-ly, as he calls him, gives him each day. However, Stu-ly hides the things in the walls, under the carpet, under the desk, and sometimes outside, so that Ranklin' has to find them.

What does your character’s bedroom/sleeping place look like? (lots of detail please)
His bedroom has striped green wallpaper that's peeling, a dresser, and a night table with a lamp on it.

What does he or she wear to sleep in?
He wears a frog costume.

What does your character dream of at night?
He dreams of a sea of black-eyed cloaked and top-hatted men that his dad rides on until he's a skeleton. The sky is stormy, and the whole situation is black and white.

Who are/were her parents? Rest of family? What does she feel for them?

Class, ethnic group, religious background?

Who does s/he love, or has s/he loved? Or what. Detail.

Who loves him or her?

Married/ in relationship/single? Give names and specifics.

How does your character feel about sex/intimacy? What sexual relationship(s) is he or she involved in?

Exactly what does your character do to make a living (or in the case of a child, what do his/ her parents do; or in the case of independent wealth, how does he or she pass the time?)? How much does s/he earn? Feelings about work? What is the best part of the job, the worst?

Who or what does/he fear?

What about his or her life would he or she change if s/he could?

Does the character have a hobby? Secret passion? (Can be something ordinary like soccer playing or yoga classes or mountain biking or sewing or fixing up old trucks - or an unusual interest like some Greek poet from the third century, or collecting spiders, or walking the tightrope…

What would be his or her favourite smell ( why)?

What kind of shoes does he or she wear, (e.g. furry slippers or gumboot or trainers… new or old, style, what colour, fitting properly or too tight or too loose, nice and clean or old and smelly)? Describe exactly.

Favourite meal? Attitude to food?

Favourite clothes?

What is the worst thing that could happen to him or her right now?

What vehicles does your character use/own? (for example: bike, skateboard, truck, yacht, stroller, canoe, spaceship, battered pickup, etc.. please be as exact as possible). What are his/her feelings towards it/them. What kind of journeys does he or she make?

What is his or her most treasured possession?

What illnesses has he or she suffered, if any?

What’s his/her philosophy of life? For example’ You’ve got to look after Number 1’ or ‘Never say die’ or ‘Don’t ask for reasons.” What are his or her most strongly held beliefs?

What does he or she feel guilty about?

Biggest mistake ever made?

Best thing he/she ever did?

To Name a Few--

FUNNY

Corpin Loot
Lietzy Hachor
Chricke Algotor
Venerian Dzeez
Lisslelum Loliphag
Roitogog Blunderfoot
Pronk Piss
Tremmy Undergo
Sephilus Honmouth
Roran Vators
Sally Stupid
Riptide Maximum
Oral Tsects
Alexander Brumfield
Robbin Banks
Franklin Furters
Hillary Roddham Clinton
Lololollirollorumpus Smith
Potrusion Lociliiiii
Sombbbbb Rolaaaaa
Burns
Cloaca

SERIOUS

Stalin
Reginald
Regulus
Plato
Cecil
Aulio
Vespasian
Velerian
Corstogra
Inclistil
Romisto
Leonidas
Reinston
Glo
Danger
Candlejack
Toren
Khari
Soldad
Innovinivch
Ivan

OTHER

Portrine
Eckle Trimester
Forceable Cline
Trello Patrille
Linkol Telestom
Rorder Cloginator
Stayble Trainstation
Linkbtw Worldtimesandhistories
New York City
Coarse
Little League
Salad Bar
Reading Rainbow
Slug
Personal Trainer
Ranks of Glory

FAVS:

Ranks of Glory
Vespasian
Stayble Trainstation