[Herr D]

 

The Brothers Grimly Page 2 of 4

In The East Rooms . . .

Zimme reflected upon the coming Fool’s Day as he shaved. The razor wasn’t as sharp as he remembered, or maybe the shaving cream wasn’t as good–he wasn’t sure which. He fought back a smile, thinking of the competition to come. Wouldn’t do to cut himself–he had to look his best as he leered at his brother after winning.

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/Incorporatives/BrotherShaves_zpse48dc1ec.png

Zimme was pretty sure he had it this year. He’d caught a glimpse of Zall sneaking out of his bathroom. It had taken him all of ten minutes to turn invisible, to sneak in to swap that brand new razor and high quality shave cream back into Zall’s bathroom, and to take back his own shave cream and slightly dull razor. Whatever Zall had done to it would simply not happen to Zimme. Zall would know instantly, of course. So they were starting early. Zimme smiled fondly as he rushed through breakfast. He knew that the movie-morphing he planned for Zall would be very scary. It had been a lot of work to prepare the combined illusions and projections and trigger them onto the television remote. Zall would need to be healed quickly, of course. Zimme finished the healing spells, laid out the remote, turned on the television, and boarded up a window hurriedly. Then he passed through the door. Suddenly he found himself in an unfamiliar room with wrong-sized furniture. There was a small couch, an over-sized statue, and shelves of books. “Hah!” he thought, “A door spell. He’s swapped me to another room. Not bad, but not very scary.”

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/Incorporatives/Keric-DollhouseLibrary_zps29ed31b6.png

He had just had time to realize that the books were oddly painted fakes when a zombie with Zall’s face burst into the room, guts dripping onto the floor. Zimme tried a simple protection spell, but Zall kept coming. Zimme turned and ran sideways out of the room, barely noticing the odd, slippery surface under his feet until he came to the edge. Zall repeatedly tried to bite Zimme while tackling him and all the way through the long fall to their death.

 

 

 

 

[Herr D]

This is this year’s SantaSwap Incorporative. Every gift given to me in the SantaSwap3 before the 22nd has been included. Remember; resistance was futile–it WAS assimilated!

 The Brothers Grimly  Page 1 of 4

In The West Rooms . . .

Zall reflected upon the coming Fool’s Day as he shaved. The razor wasn’t as sharp as he remembered, or maybe the shaving cream wasn’t as good–he wasn’t sure which. He fought back a smile, thinking of the competition to come. Wouldn’t do to cut himself–he had to look his best as he leered at his brother after winning.

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/Incorporatives/BrotherShaves_zpse48dc1ec.png

Magical pranks were the specialty of the twins. Their mother and father had raised them to be mere assistants in their magic act, expecting them to switch places, assume awkward poses in tight places, memorize those boring routines, but not since their thirteenth Fool’s Day. On that day the greatest prank of all had been played! The twins had worked real magic for the first time. It hadn’t been a curtain or a shower of flower petals or a flurry of doves that had exploded out from the stage. It had been a fireball. A REAL fireball. Not just the showy flash they were used to! It had completely vaporized the stage. The audience, the so-called magicians that they called mother and father, the curtains, the theater–all just a bit of ash. Zall remembered how he and his brother had stared at each other in their singed costumes for a moment, stunned at the loss of their family, but drunk and overjoyed with the level of power, sheer POWER that they now had. By the time the fire department came they were giggling like babies.

They made the firemen hose each other off in the unseasonably frigid air, starting the infamous pneumonia epidemic that eventually reduced the burden of overpopulation throughout America and Europe. They made earthquakes the following day, tornadoes and cloudbursts the next. When the surviving reporters brought them their own personal presidential radio address, they were delighted to hear that they would receive free airfare to Korea and an emperor’s welcome. The twins boarded their donated plane to a standing ovation and flew across the Pacific despite the bomb in the cockpit that magically appeared in the White House, the poison in the air conditioning that apparently made living shadow puppets when it appeared in Death Valley, and the nuclear missile that not only didn’t hit the plane but turned into a giant stuffed bear and bounced on the water all the way to the Bering Strait.

They had lived like kings in South Korea, everyone afraid not to please them, until the next Fool’s Day. Zimme had startled Zall, and the coastline of North and South Korea had gone up in smoke. Feeling sheepish, the twins had erased all bullets and explosives in the region, conjured enough dry stores to feed the rest of Korea for twenty years, and moved to China. The competition had begun. Who could pull the biggest prank to startle or scare the other? The most inventive would have more sweets for the year than the other, the more effective scarer would pick where they lived next. That WAS important, since they tended to ruin regions with this game of theirs.

Zall was pretty sure he had it this year. He had taken a brand new razor and some high quality shaving cream and swapped out his brother’s stuff. Used on anyone else, it would just be a wonderful shave. It was hexed though; shaving with it would take away Zimme’s magic. It WAS fixable. All it would take would be a hug between the brothers, and all would be restored. Neither of them had ever tried anything like this before. It wasn’t showy or fabulous like most things they tried. Maybe this was just a sign they were truly growing up.

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/Incorporatives/CD-BoardedWindow_zpsbc838d7b.png

Then he heard banging outside his suite. It was a bit early to be starting, but his brother took pride in ‘window dressing,’ setting a mood through elaborate sets and props aplenty. It was nice to see such dedication, to know that the competition should be taken seriously. Zall finished shaving and smiled, imagining his brother’s face when it came time to cast the big spell or illusion. Zall walked out of his suite to see a window crudely boarded up. This had been the nicest of hotels the region had to offer, but they knew the score. If the foundation of the hotel was still here when the brothers left, they might rebuild rather cheaply. Only a fool sent anyone but the terminally ill to wait on them this time of year, anyway–so what difference did some vandalizing make? Zall smiled warmly. His brother did make a good effort. In the next room he saw a television on. He checked the guide. The guide function up said a zombie movie was going off and a Twilight Zone episode was coming on. Zall squinted and read the blurb. It would be the famous episode with the giant eye looking in through the window. He’d seen that rerun doing research for an effective prank several years ago. Zall put down the remote, frowning. “Which one?” he said, and passed through the door. Suddenly he could barely move or breathe, and a horrible smell entered his nose. He gasped and would have retched, but he could not. He grabbed his belly, and his hand sunk into it. He looked helplessly at gore dripping off his hands and found himself trying to climb out of a coffin. He found, then, that he could not scream or even speak. “The remote!” he thought. “He made it ready to put me in the movie! @#$%^  I feel so HUNGRY!”

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/Incorporatives/Skoul-ZombieCoffin_zps73576a19.png

 

[Herr D]

Ooh! Cliff? Did you save the text for that? I may have to rewrite my Incorporative.

[Herr D]

Your Nov 26 pic might benefit from masking a rectangle gradient to the boot. That will shade for you if you apply the right colors. You’ll need to play with it until it looks roughly like a cylinder. Also you might try masking to multiple transparent boots for more complicated fx. Shading doesn’t come easy to me at all–I usually try to get out of it on faces anyway.

[Herr D]

With no responses whatever, I think I’m rescheduling this to end Dec 31rst, 3am EST, to be judged by 8pm EST, 12/31.

[Herr D]

@Mad Jack: Thanks for the knot.

@Cliff: glad you’re out, man.

Thanks guys, for the gifts and good wishes. My incorporative story may not be ready before Tuesday–here’s hoping.

[Herr D]

keric: Pose, including an attempt at custom hands

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[Herr D]

Chainsaw for Nug–sorry I’ve fallen so far behind. Illness in the family during holiday prep will slow down anybody, but hopefully I’ll catch up soon.

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[Herr D]

[chapter 15 continues]

Pull and cry of high winds. Dizzying pull straight up. The city below, lit but mostly asleep, like a drunken, sated lover. Aimless and violent, but somehow content, a warm, westerly gust of wind arced outward away from Jennifer’s apartment building . . . aimless, spinning bits of paper around and around . . . aimless . . .

Jennifer stirred a bit, opened one eye. She felt hot, almost feverish, and yet so, just, GOOD. She turned her head slightly to look at Mike, tangled in the sheet. A small, sad half-smile curled her lips. “Mike?” she whispered.

He made some small sound then, and moved his head a little.

“You’re a good guy. If you could do amazing things, what would you do?”

“MMwh?”

“It’s important Mike. What would you do if you could do things no one else could?”

A long pause followed. Then he said, only slightly sleep-slurred, “Superhero.” His breathing became shallow and regular. Jennifer saw double, suddenly, and closed her eye.

Just a few more shades darker in the pure air, just a few shades lighter through dark smoke. Look at me in that window. Mass of hair and generic face, waif body–Zephyr? Sounds playful, humorous. On a rooftop, the dust spinning and settling into the rough form of a ‘Z.’  How do you fight crime if you can’t FIND crime? Drifting outward, two familiar figures on a rooftop–what ARE you two doing? Dave with a camera on a tripod, making adjustments. Tia staring at a thermometer and a cheap pinwheel. Tia turned to the camera and put her show-smile on.

“As expected, from the data I’ve gathered, Zephyr is due to appear here sometime tonight. I have several questions prepared for it. ‘What do you want?’ ‘Why are you killing some peoples’ pets?’ ‘Why are you plaguing downtown Backington?’ ‘What ARE you?’ ‘Can you leave?'” Tia’s eyes went comically wide, and reflected briefly the large fist made of smoke that smashed in her irritatingly perfect little nose. Dave stood up, wordless, perfectly poised, while the only trash can in the alleys below that smelled of bad fish, peanut butter, rotten eggs, spoiled milk, dirty diapers, AND pet dung came down over him. He screamed like a girl as the camera smashed to bits against the trash can. Big letters made of gutter sludge, smeared on the inside of Tia’s raincoat, laying to one side, ‘No press, you #$%^!’

[chapter 15 will continue in January]

 

 

 

[Herr D]

@Cantdraw: Thanx! Hehheh. Now I’ll add what’s outside. [picks up lead-lined gloves, spear gun, and electric cattle prod.

@Keric: Thanx! [evil fidget] This library will make a good chapter.

@Nug: Thanx! Shaving man’s all ready for assimilation.

@MadJack: Yes! Like that is good. That and tighter knots are hard for me.

@Skoul: Nice. [evil laugh] I’m on my way, now.

I’m going to call what I’m attempting for C, K, & N here–brb.

C: did you accept Kickback? (wow, that sounds bad)

K: pose of CM

N: chainsaw

[Herr D]

@Samerekaul: Mr. Grrrr? The Grinch might be copyrighted.

@Linea: Fall scene, fairly big file–didn’t see a more elegant approach.

 

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[Herr D]

Thanks, Cliff. Hope the second week goes a lot better.

To close next MONDAY, judged on Tuesday. (This is a busy season.)

GO!

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[Herr D]

@JR:? You didn’t explicitly say the toy soldier could be from more than one person, so let me know if you want this to count. If you do, I’ll post the code.

http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/jamais5/2014hm/HerrD-SoldierNutcracker_zps0c76f623.png

@Skoul: Less a joke–more a funny thought for the Christmas celebrants  . . .

If you put your dead in a cemetery, you’re ordinary; if you dry out and decorate your dead and put it inside a building with lots of shiny stuff, you’re Egyptian royalty. If you compost dead trees, you’re ordinary; if you put a dead tree in your home with lots of shiny stuff and decorate it and let it dry out–you’re ordinary. Yeesh.

@Mad Jack: Happy thought 2nd try: Kids are ingenious. A kid in a laundromat saw a woman drop a sock and said, “You dropped a clo!” (A brand new singular of clothes.) Linguists call this backformation, as a side note.

@Samerkaul: Name for a knight would be something like Sir Gerald of Dewbury, then to take the name Brenner, for the German word “one who burns” or Abednego, because a knight might think of a biblical name for someone thrown into a fiery trial. They were supposedly holy warriors, after all.

[Herr D]

@Mad Jack: I’ll update my list later, but if you’d like to do another microscope or a wall of outdated computer equipment or the exterior of a library (like a stone lion on steps) instead, that’d be great.

@Skoul: Yes, drawing in the hero–tried to do that so you could use your own hero. Thanx for the ‘scope.

[Herr D]

@Mad Jack:  Not sure which of these you’ll count–Name for a hero would be ‘Gavel.’

An unusual power “Tunnel Vision” would be to psychically force someone to focus / obsess on a specific object until a random, individually-determined goal had been reached. Two examples: One affected villain could not see the police, but only the door behind them until he passed through a door. They successfully disarmed him and cuffed him, shoved him into the backseat–and he was released. An affected invulnerable hero could not see the dying people around him until he destroyed the machine spewing poison everywhere–his conscience, therefore, did not cripple him but was put aside so he could save tens of thousands by stomping through six people who were already irretrievable.

Happy thought: in theory, it is possible to make a working organ or harpsichord or xylophone from icicles. Imagine how interesting it would be to watch a musician see one of those for the first time before they even sit down to play, aching to try it out.

@Cantdraw: I’ve imagined a ‘mostly’ human female martial arts character that I don’t know HOW to make a picture of: a subtle mutation has caused her to grow with unusually sturdy bone ridges just under the skin in various places, so that making her bleed would be a lot more difficult. Also, her kicks and punches do more damage to others, and less to her. (Just playing volleyball for five hours can bruise most people, but an action movie typically has a character beating others so much that their own wrists and ankles would have hairline fractures if not be completely unusable.) Her name would be Kickback, because she got into the field to fight corruption in professional fighting organizations.

@Skoul: “Raleigh, I been fake bleeding for ten minutes when this stupid mother showed up. Was gonna try to cauterize my fake gutshot with a LIT CIGARETTE. #$%^&* I cut him out of the gene pool, quick, and stuffed him in a trash can as he fell–you said you could get the hero here to ‘rescue’ me. Where is he?! I’m gonna run out of fake blood soon! Call me back!” Little did he know, that passing overhead, from murder to phone call, was–

 

List:

1.Text for Background: 3/4 view of street from spaghetti western town. Long bit of street visible for dueling, just one participant will be much closer.

2. Text for Background: Interior library, neat.

3. Text for Background: Window boarded up in a rush, done badly on interior wall, bland color, some bright blue sky visible outside.

4. Microscope on a table. *I have an excellent side view now.–A view suitable for me to add a squinting bent character behind it would be great as an alternate gift.

5. Man shaving in mirror.

6. A pair of stone lions flanking a set of steps (entry way to library.)

7. Western: Undertaker standing beside an open coffin on end with shocked expression staring out at us.

@Madjack: You mentioned maybe bribing me with an item? I’d love a square knot of twisted rope or a candy cane or a jar of candy or a sparse background storefront set. ;^>

 

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