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Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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[i][url=http://bbs.stardestroyer.net/viewtopic.php?p=3366303#p3366303]Previously on SDNW4[/url][/i] wrote:Battlestar Annapolis

"I'm sorry, but you want me to do what?" shouted the commander of Annapolis as he ingested the latest orders from Fleet HQ.

"Yes, you heard it right. Your light battlestar will be chopped over to the Special Ops division of the Fleet; for the duration of the Pendletonian operation; and will be under partial Bragulian control while they extract their men on the ground. I expect you to display full courtesies to the Bragulian representative who will be arriving on your ship shortly."

"You're putting me under the command of a fucking bear?"

"If you have problems with this, Commander, then I can find other suitable replacements.

"Goddamn it. How long will the bastards be on my ship then?"

"Not long. A couple weeks at the most. Commander...look at this as an opportunity to acquire some nice Bragulian spirits for uh, retirement purposes."
Brought to you in GODDAMN UNREAL TIME

BATTLESTAR ANNAPOLIS, Lochley's Retreat, XYZ-hours prior to fleet departure

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The Shepistani light battlestar was docked in port. There were some last minute technical issues that had to be resolved, primarily problems in integrating the Sheppistani non-networked computers with the greater CI-controlled battlesphere management systems used by the rest of the joint Anglian-led coalition. The stuffy Anglians also insisted something be done with the battlestars' primary in-ship communications systems, namely the corded telephones, but the Shepistanis just laughed and installed some token cordless phones to make them happy.

But truth be told, all that was merely a delaying tactic to buy some time. The other Shepistani battlestars had already finished their preparations, but still it seemed as though the Annapolis was taking unusually long to finish its modifications for some reason. Even the other Shepistani ships' crews knew not why the Annapolis was taking so long in particular.

This was because the reason for battlestar Annapolis' delay, which in turn held up the entire Anglian-led fleet, was not actually in its systems integration. Rather, the real reason, which even the commanders and crews of the other Shepistani ships didn't know, was that they were waiting for a small ship that had just arrived in the Lochley system. It was now docking with the docked battlestar, and its precious cargo soon entered the Annapolis.

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Commander Louie Hushy stood sternly before the airlock, the feeling of trepidation gnawing at his gut. Originally his mission was to command the Annapolis in proudly representing Shepistan in the multinational taskforce dispatched to deal with the Pendleton slavers once and for all. It was a great and historic responsibility as the shithole's slave-owning denizens traced their lineage back to the Astarians of great old Nova Terra, the Astarians who, in ancient times, were nearly eradicated by a legendary Shepistani biochemical attack. To this day, Shepistanis throughout the Republic celebrated that great historic moment with The Running of the Astarians where they threw rocks at Astarian or Pendletonian effigies dressed in paper mache chemical suits. But now, Hushy thought, his great mission had been superseded along with his command - which he was now about to give to the damned Bragulians who he would be subservient to for the duration of the mission! What the hell was command thinking?!

Suddenly the airlock hissed evilly and began to open. Commander Louie Hushy stifled his squirms of discomfitude. It was the moment of truth, now he'd finally meet the damn dirty commie-bear who he'd have to kowtow to. He had heard stories about them, how they liked to beat subordinates with sticks to ensure ideological correctness. But now this wasn't a story, this was reality, and Hushy faced that it with steely resolve as fog spewed forth menacingly from the airlock, eerily lit up by the deck lamps and such and such. The fog slowly subsided, and when the all-clear was lit, the Bragulians began marching forward.

No, it can't be. Commander Louie Hushy thought at that last moment.

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"Greetings Comrade Commander! Permission to come aboard your vessel?" asked the Bragulian who stepped forward to the edge of the airlock.

"Permission granted," Hushy muttered as he forced himself to near the damn inhuman thing.

"Thank you," the big bear replied as he took his green hat off in a gesture of politeness and adjusted his tie. Then he saluted, clenching a fist and placing it on his chest. "I am Colonel Zupyr Velkro, of the Bragulan Star Empire and the Imperator's Emerald Guard. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander..."

"Louie Hushy, of the Republic of Shepistan Navy." The Bragulian offered his paw and Hushy tried not to wince as he took it and shook hands with the bear, fully expecting the creature to rip his arm off its socket. Fortunately it didn't happen. Hushy sighed in relief. "Colonel, welcome aboard the Battlestar Annapolis."

"It is a fine ship, Commander. May my comrades enter?" Colonel Velkro asked.

"Of course, by all means." Hushy assented. Then, from behind the Colonel Velkro, several even larger bears came into the hangar. Unlike Velkro with his coat and green tie and slacks and loafers, these other bears were decked out in camouflage uniforms, obviously military though not carrying weapons. A few of them even had military regulation flattop hairdos. Probably special forces.

"As a token for our appreciation of the Shepistani Republic's helpful assistance to the Bragulan Star Empire, and as a gesture of goodwill to you and your crew in the spirit of cooperation between our great peoples, we have brought you these," Velkro gestured towards something some of the bears were lugging with them. They were carrying massive cases, each easily several times larger than a man, containers vaguely resembling refrigerators or something. Velkro smiled, showing his fangs. "We did not have much time to get much, but we did get what we can. These are Bragulan brewskis, good for use perhaps when off-duty or when we are going home after the succession mission, da Commander?"

"Yes, very good," Hushy made a weak smile. After this mission, he definitely could use a stiff drink or two. He just hoped the Bragulan brewskis wouldn't make him blind. "Now, Colonel, if you will, the rest of the Annapolis awaits us."

"Of course," Colonel Velkro gestured forward. "Lead on."

"I shall," Hushy showed him the way and they moved on, out of the hangar and into the rest of the ship while loadlifters began transferring the Bragulan cargo. He did not like being told what to do, or receiving orders from someone who wasn't his superior in the chain of command, particularly from someone ranked colonel. But he did not get the prestigious assignment of representing Shepistan in the coalition forces by being hardheaded or difficult. Like any good officer he knew when to suck it up and take it, and this was particularly one of those situations. "Colonel Velkro, I've been instructed by my superiors to relinquish partial command of the Annapolis to you for the duration of this mission. So, if there is anything I can do to aid in the expediency of your mission, and if there are certain arrangements you'd prefer?"

"Commander, my mission is to extract Bragulan personnel operating in Pendleton. I only request your assistance, as well as that of your crew, in the planning and carrying out of this. Aside from that, I will try to minimize our interference with the normal operations aboard your ship. I understand my sudden presence here, and that of my men, wasn't exactly expected."

"No, we didn't really anticipate the Bragulians suddenly joining the coalition against Pendleton," Hushy said dryly.

"Perhaps the beverages we brought with us could be of some assistance then," Velkro chuckled. Then, back to business. "Anyway, as for our accommodations, I trust it has all been prepared?"

"Yes, everything is ready." Hushy suppressed a neurotic tick of irritation. As the commander of the vessel, he was unused to preparing 'accommodations' for anyone on board his ship. But since this was what his superiors had ordered, and since the mission was now Special Ops, he had no choice but to personally supervise babysitting the Bragulan bears.

"Thank you," Velkro replied coolly.

“You're welcome.” At least, Hushy conceded grudgingly, the Bragulian who was now his superior was polite.

"So Commander, when will be we making for Pendleton?" the Bragulan asked as an afterthought.

"In a few hours. We'll take a few days to get there," Hushy answered. Now that the Bragulians had finally arrived, the Annapolis could finally finish its 'preparations', which were way behind schedule, and then the fleet could depart for Pendleton shortly after. "The Pendletonians only have a pair of medium cruisers, their fleet is mostly composed of lights and ultralights. They'll be pushovers, it'll be a piece of cake."

"Hm, I wouldn't be sure of that," Velkro said to himself.

“Pardon?"

"Oh, I'm sure of that," Velkro hastily corrected himself. “Absolutely 100% sure!”

“Yeah. We'll have your men out of Pendleton in no time, Colonel," Hushy replied. And then I can have my ship back, you goddamn commie-bear.
Previously on SDNW4... wrote:HMS Dauntless, In Orbit
Lochley's Retreat, The Outback


Everything was finally in readiness. The main attack fleet was gathered and ready to traverse the Gap; the blockade ships were moving toward Bannerman. All that remained was departure.

Lord Fisher came to the bridge in full uniform, as befitted a man of his rank and station preparing to engage in conquest. He nodded sternly at the boastswain after his arrival was announced by whistle. Ahead of him, through transtanium windows, he could see the fleet arranged. The other five Star Cruisers, led by HMS Imperator herself, the Altacaran HMS Impressive, the Hiigaran carriers, the contingents from the NenAltKik, Shepistan, Gotham, and other states offering aid and paying homage to the task faced by the Empire. This was to be a demonstration of the will of Galactic Civilisation; that no state may proclaim slavery legal and survive its wrath.

"Send to Imperator; Ahead at in-system cruise, move toward the hyperlimit and prepare for transit," Fisher ordered. The Comm officer obeyed immediately, relaying his instructions. Every vessel in the fleet brought their sublight drives to life, creating heat plumes on every set of sensors in the system. And with all the finality of a tidal wave lurching closer to its point of impact, they began to burn out toward the hyperlimit of the system to begin the 80 hour voyage to Pendleton.
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Without further ado the Battlestar Annapolis joined her sister ships and the greater multinational fleet of warships in their days-long journey to Pendleton. Delays and odd unexpected mission reprioritizations aside, the Annapolis would soon finally have her chance to represent the Republic of Shepistan in its rightful place in castigating the thrice-damned Astarians for their wickedness. It was just as Shepistan did during the Great Age of Obscurity, raining plaguebombs around, as written in words long written down. Everything was as it should be.

The mood aboard the ship was of palpable anticipation and merryment. Exhaustion over the Amplitur Wars had long since taken hold of the men and women of the Shepistani ship, they were tired of wasting xenos and were now curious, and even eager to feel the excitement of killing their fellow human beings en masse. The nature of the Pendletonians, the sons of Astaria, made such mass murder acceptable, and even encouraged. So did the Shepistani spacemen set about doing their noble work. They cleaned their great and terrible thermonuclear weapons, wiping the emissions and discharges off the bomb casings with wet rags. Some humorously wrote epithets onto the warheads with crayolas, epithets such as 'SPITROAST THIS MOTHERFUCKERS' and thus. They sang songs of celebration as they did so, songs like Napalm Sticks to Slaves, Bioweapon Blues and Bomb Velaria.

In the commissary, the Shepistanis treated their guests as any gracious host would, and a great feast was had. The Bragulans, or Bragulians as the Shepistanis called them, as good guests likewise brought gifts with which to celebrate their rare cooperation with the humans.

“Comrade, you must try this, it is great Bragulan delicacy!” Colonel Velkro declared as he passed a dish to Commander Hushy. “It is called Bragule Egg, after great and glourious homeworld mighty Bragule!”

“I... thank you...” Hushy hesitantly accepted the food, which looked like nothing so much as a giant scaly ostritch egg on a platter. “Oh... Bragule egg, how lovely, ah. How did you say this was cooked?”

“Not cooked, nyet!” Velkro gulped down a bottle of brewski and laughed.

“Not cooked?” Hushy gasped, unsure of the prospects of eating unsanitary, inhuman, Bragulian foods. Not that he minded their booze.

“No, it is steamed!” Velkro proudly pronounced. “Raptor fetus inside is steamed to death and softened by heat into delicious meal good for whole family. They say it taste better with salt, but I do not use the salts. Come, comrade Commander, break the egg open and enjoy feast!”

“Wait, isn't that like balut?” Hushy raised an eyebrow.

“What is this balut?”

“It's steamed duck eggs, I hear they make it in the Feelipeen system we annexed some years ago,” Hushy recalled. The mess chef was a Feelipeenii and had mentioned it once during one of the Annapolis' cooking classes Hushy attended.

“Bah, that is merely human thievery of ingeniously designed native Bragulan cuisine. Silly humans!” Velkro dismissed. And then, he added: “No offense to present company, of course.”

“None taken.” Commander Hushy shrugged and then raised his spoon and fork. “Alright, let's try this baby egg.”

Then, in that moment, the giant egg hatched.

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“No, it can't be!” Hushy screamed in horrer, for he beheld a horrible sight emerging from the egg. It was the raptor fetus, burned and scalded by the steaming of the egg, and very much pissed off and in pain. Upon seeing him, the fetus screeched and instinctively lunged at him, shrieking and wailing as it began to claw at him. “No! NOT IN THE FACE! GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME!”

“Commander!” Executive Officer Tight, Hushy's XO, rushed to his aid and punched the raptor in the face. In revengeance, the raptor snarled and threw itself at Tight's face, clawing with its vicious toe-claws and gnawing with its bloody beak. “JESUS CHRIST MY EYE! FUCK! MY EYE! AAAUUUUURRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!”

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“Comrades!” Velkro sputtered at the surreal sight. Commander Hushy's arms were all bloodied as he had shielded himself from the creature, but XO Tight's face was now being hugged by the wretched hatchling. Velkro regained his composure and immediately sprang into action. As Tight rolled on the floor with the thing on his face, Velkro reflexively began stomping on the creature – and, thus, stomped on Tight's face as well. “Die, vicious creature! Die! Imperator damn you! Argh, Motherland!”

Finally the creature died. Horribly scalded by the steam, and thus having its flesh and bones softened also, it was easily squished by Velkro's stomping. But, consequently, his boot also stomped on Tight's human face. Forever.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was that?!” Hushy gasped as Velkro helped him up. “Fuck! Colonel, what the hell?!”

“Hrm...” Velkro wondered how to approach the situation best, and decided on a course of action. “It seemed as though the egg was undercooked.”

“No shit!” Hushy spat. Then, seeing Tight's mutilated form and hearing his feeble moans of pain, Hushy yelled for a medic. “Medic!”

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The medics managed to patch officer Tight up with an eyepatch. He had lost an eye, but it wasn't something the medbay couldn't clone. In a few hours, he'd get himself a new eye and everything would be fine. Except for the lingering pain, which was severe, but the Bragulians had given him a few bottles of extra-strong brewskis so by the end of the day, Tight had a slight smile on his face as the horrible occular pain gave way to horrible inebriation.

All in all, the day could have gone worse for 'Colonel Zupyr Velkro', Agent Spozavik concluded as he visited the lavatory. He washed gooey bits of the hatchling off his boot and, after the hearty dinner they had, he also went to defecate. Unfortunately the lavatory's facilities could not handle his bulky Bragulan stools and, even more unfortunately, he had ended up causing a great backflow after doing his business. So, careful not to get his newly cleaned boots wet, he merely finished wiping, washed his hands meticulously, and left.

On the way out, he passed by Commander Hushy.

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“Colonel,” Hushy nodded to him. Spozavik could read his facial expressions and could tell that he was none too pleased with what had happened at dinner, but there was nothing anyone could do about it anyway, and it was not like he knew the damn egg was undercooked, so Spozavik didn't really feel guilty or bad about it. They would just have to deal with it.

“Commander,” Colonel Velkro/Agent Spozavik nodded. As he passed by, he looked back and saw that the Commander was heading for the same lavatory he had just left. Seeing this, he decided to quicken his pace and get out of sight before Hushy discovered the extent of his... leavings.

Spozavik succeeded, having managed to escape visual range and also just barely getting out of earshot of the Commander's screams of rageful indignation. Spozavik shortly afterwards entered the area reserved for him and his team. They were preparing diligently, as all elite Emerald Guard commandos should, so Spozavik left them to their business. Later, he would plan the mission to extract the IBGV's agents on Pendleton, and he'd do it with his men and Commander Hushy as well – after Hushy got himself cleaned up. But now, all Spozavik wanted to do after such a long day, just one in an entire week full of long days, was to catch some rest.

“Colonel Velkro,” saluted Major Sarvylus Kreilagug, the leader of the Guard team.

“Major Kreilagug,” Spozavik saluted him back. “How are your men?”

“They are getting ready for the mission,” the Major replied. “Guardsman Zhyvel has been able to interface with the Shepistani ship's computers.”

“Ah, Zhyvel,” Spozavik recognized the name. “The Hero of Gugafez, yes?”

“Yes, the hero for eating a poisoned human donut,” Major Kreilagug scoffed. “But he is one of the Guard's foremost humantech hackers.”

“The Shepistani computers are quite compatible with our own,” Guardsman Zhyvel said, looking up from his small portable backpack computer. “At least, they are more similar to our tech level than stupid Sovereignty quantum octo-core molluscs.”

“Good, try to look around and get familiar with these humans' computers, since they're a bit different from the stuff used by our good friends in the Sovereignty,” Spozavik mentioned. “But don't be too intrusive, lest we arouse any attention from our hosts. The Shepistanis have placed me in partial command of the ship, so I think I can get us the most pertinent of data by simply asking for it.”

“But where's the fun in that?” Zhyvel joked, but quieted down when his friend, the big interrogation specialist a.k.a. tortuer a.k.a. technician Pegidur went beside him and clapped his shoulder.

“It's not quite as fun, I grant you, but it helps to be polite,” Spozavik replied. “We'll begin planning tomorrow. It's been a long trip, so we better have our rest so we can begin early in the morning cycle. Tomorrow we'll have the whole day planning the mission with the Shepistanis and then we can prepare. Yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Major Kreilagug nodded.

“Well, then, if there's anything you need of me, I'll be in my bunk,” Spozavik finished and headed for his room. Behind him one of the Guard commandos, Jagrisha Urdarvus, the only female of the team, began sparring with Pegidur while Zhyvel continued tapping away at his computer and Major Kreilagug looked on.

Alone in his room, Spozavik laid down on his bed and thought of home – mighty Bragule – and thought of his family, safely tucked in the security of the Imperator's throne world. He pulled out a picture of his son, Buzagan, who he affectionately called Bu-bu. The picture was taken when they were visiting the Imperator's Natural Reservation of the People's Patriotic Natural Ecosystem in Bragule, where they had a picnic in the last domed patches of the Bragulan biosphere. It was a fond family memory from years ago.

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Spozavik missed home so dearly.

He kept the picture and went to sleep shortly afterwards.

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IBGV wrote:In the Sovereign Spire on Solaris, Senators Sidney Hank and Robert Space McNamara, along with Brigadier Flash Stalin, are all standing in the cafeteria line, patiently waiting their turn. Spozavik enters and passes everyone as he strides directly to the head of the queue. He is served immediately. Hank, McNamara and Stalin are baffled. What they didn't know is that a Hero of the Bragulan Star Empire has the right to receive service without having to stand in line.
Last edited by Shroom Man 777 on Thu Jul 29, 2010 6:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Steve »

Nice one, Shroom, though your guy is mistaken if he thinks that we waited for one wimpy little Shepistani ship. ;)
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Post by Siege »

Neat, and hi Steve, but what is it doing on this forum and, more specifically, in this thread?
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Re: I have a new laptop!

Post by Malchus »

SHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!

You jacked my thread! With an SDNW mispost! I'm gonna plant a Malception in your dreams telling you shave off that beard you've been cultivating in revenge!
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Re: I have a new laptop!

Post by Steve »

Yes! Deprive him of his beard! 8-)
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Re: I have a new laptop!

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Siege wrote:Neat, and hi Steve, but what is it doing on this forum and, more specifically, in this thread?
:lol:

I wanted to see how it looks like, and I was using the preview function in this thread since SDN was down, and before I went to sleep I decided to just post it here in a feat of dickery.
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Re: I have a new laptop!

Post by Malchus »

Shroom Man 777 wrote:
Siege wrote:Neat, and hi Steve, but what is it doing on this forum and, more specifically, in this thread?
:lol:

I wanted to see how it looks like, and I was using the preview function in this thread since SDN was down, and before I went to sleep I decided to just post it here in a feat of dickery.
It's times like this that I sometimes wish I could OPPRESS people. Or at least Shroom. :twisted:
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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Split because I can, and because it makes me feel German. From here.
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Well, close enough to German at least. I hear the Dutch East Indies were pretty good at oppression. OH NO DUTCH SHIPS ARE ON THE RIVER THAMES! :P
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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It wasn't the Dutch East India Company that sailed up the Medway, it was the fleet of the Dutch Republic. The VOC was busy dealing with denials of trade in China and Japan at the time. 'Sides, they were a company, not a military. We had proper admirals to steal British warships.
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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Rememebr to put a broom on your main mast when you return home. :twisted:
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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Lol, Imperial Bears with hats and ties! That's ingenious!
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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:lol:
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Man, that Yogi bear film angers me and makes me wish to make more AGENT SPOZAVIK.

Those Dutchmen are total assholes. :P

They probably fucked those Spaniards' boat just for the hell of it!
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Steve »

Given all the nasty shit the Spanish pulled on them first, don't know if you can blame them. :P
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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The Spaniards had it coming.

We all have it coming, kid.
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

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Hmmm, so this is what I've been missing both here and in SDNW? Wait until the perfidious Space French arrive! :D :twisted:
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

We've already BEEN waiting! :P
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Magister Militum »

Give me a week and a half or two and see if you'll still be eager for me to arrive. ;)
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Germania your game is through, now you're gonna answer to... The Freestates! Fuck Yeah! Now lick my balls and suck on my cock! Freestates, Fuck Yeah! Coming in to save the motherfuckin' day! Rock and roll, fuck yeah! Television, fuck yeah! DVDs, fuck yeah! Militums, fuck yeah! - Shroomy
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Steve »

Yep. Sorry, Magister, but you missed the beatdown train on a crappy slavocracy NPC. 8-)
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Yeah, it looks like that train is about to get its face beaten down. :P
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Re: Shroom dicks around with TOB stuffs

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Hey PREGRIN :mrgreen:



Written ages ago by a mutual friend of Siege and I.

Cesar Jorge Motonow
by Simon Johansen


Most people in the 35th century immediately think of Cesar Jorge Motonow when they hear the words "eccentric and controversial avant-garde filmmaker". This man is best known for a psychedelic remake of Star Wars which has little in common with George Lucas' original movies except for the names of the characters, as well as once having cut off part of his ear as a homage to Vincent van Gogh. There was much more to Cesar Jorge Motonow than that, however - he was also an important influence the Neo-Alternarealist artistic movement (if not directly part of it), an accomplished musical composer and painter, and helped Raven Tiffany Sinclair re-establish her life as a writer and poet in the 3280s.

[Biography]

Cesar Jorge Motonow was born in 3218 on the Sovereignty world of Emilia to Radomil-Stanislaw Motonow and Alejandra Motonowa (virgin name: Hernandez). His high school records were revealed in his 3304 autobiography to be perfectly average; in fact, he openly reveals that back in those days most people would have laughed at the idea that he should one day become a galaxy-famous moviemaker. During all his childhood and a sizeable portion of his teenage years, Cesar Jorge Motonow envisioned himself as growing up to be a historian. However, he made a decision in 3234 which would set his true future path of life. He describes this change of mind in aforementioned autobiography:
C.J. Motonow wrote:When I was sixteen years old, a revelation occured to me. History is shaped by the thoughts and instincts of people, and what expresses thoughts and instincts in a better way than art and literature? Those who can see hidden meanings between the threads of paints wowen upon the canvas by a painter, or between the networks of tones which music is, sees one possible future. The universe does not create pre-programmed pseudo-linear systems exclusively as it is not once itself; there are countless billions of possible futures. In each piece of art, irrespective of the selection of senses it speaks to, there is a vision of one possible future; or at least a future as perceived by a madman. After all, our ideas also determine what our senses see - for example, supernatural phenomena are only seen by those who believe in them. Point is, one day in the fateful year of 3234, I decided that from now on, I would concern myself with the myriad possible futures and alternate realities seen and created by artists."


Together with a growing clique of likeminded friends, the young Cesar Jorge Motonow formed a society called The Divine Mirror for what he termed "the exploration of alternate realities through the gateway of the mind". Cesar Jorge Motonow donated most of his income (from whatever part-time job he had at the time) to the Divine Mirror as it grew. 3 months after the inception of the Divine Mirror, complete with a manifesto, Cesar Jorge Motonow was publishing a free magazine called "Visions" along with a webzine version called "Electric Visions" in order to spread knowledge about the diverse array of art produced by Divine Mirror, and also to reach out to other artists. Not just artists on the planet of Emilia or in the USS, but in other parts of the galaxy as well. Contrary to some people's pessimistic expectations, the intentionally unclassifiable and oddly compelling art of young visionaries like Romain Passeron, Jaleh Lashgari and Motonow himself soon gathered the attention of art critics from the entire solar system which contained Emilia; even though they had not yet caught even sectionwide attention.

By the summer of 3236, The Divine Mirror had extended to include an underground publishing house ran from the basement of Romain Passeron, the most prolific contributor to "Visions". There was a general consensus in the group that the work of The Divine Mirror should extend from sculpture and painting to film and music, and that there was a need for distribution of the group's "fruit" in other forms than HoloNet downloads. Not surprisingly, it was through The Divine Mirror that Cesar Jorge Motonow directed his first movie in the very same year. Filmed mostly with handheld camera in black-and-white, Twin Fullmoon was supposed to shake the very mental fabric from which intelligent beings create their respective worldviews while being made on a shoestring. Motonow himself, however, was somewhat unsatisfied with the result and waited for several years to direct full-length films. Instead, he stuck with various series of less ambitious, if more effective and focused short movies.

In 3237, after his graduation from high school, Motonow and the rest of The Divine Mirror moved together to live as a collective in an abandoned country estate which Motonow's then-girlfriend had managed to locate. With very little connection to the outside world by other means than the holo-net and the occassional visit to nearby towns to buy various other supplies, the Divine Mirror artist collective now lived mostly off the fruit and vegetables grown in the adjoining garden of the now-renovated estate. In the meantime, art critics from all over the galaxy had over the holo-net gained access to these bizarre and unique paintings, drawings, musical compositions, sculptures and movies produced by a group of 16-19 year olds from the rather unremarkable United Solarian Sovereignty planet of Emilia. Scanned photographies of the paintings and drawings, 3d models of the sculptures and downloads of the movies and music turned up for download on the holo-net. Due to the secrecy of the countryside collective in which they lived, all which was known about The Divine Mirror aside from their art were their names and whatever Romain Passeron published in "Electric Visions". Rumours about the group abounded; rumours which were often heard but seldom believed.

It was also in the year 3237 that Cesar Jorge Motonow filmed a series of odd short films which he called The Vortex Octology, which constitute his most critically acclaimed cinematic achievement. From that point and onwards, The Divine Mirror's life and creations became progressively more strange with each piece of otherwordly art they produced. At a point, Motonow himself even cut off a piece of his left ear as a homage to Vincent van Gogh; his mangled left ear would later on make him instantly recognizeable. Though use of hallucinogenic drugs such as LSD and magic mushrooms had been commonplace, a great deal of The Divine Mirror started using PsychBoost, a lab-created variant of synthesized Psionite which temporarily bestows psychic powers upon individuals born without them (PsychBoost is rarely used for that purpose, since it also is one of the strongest hallucinogens known to science).

By 3239, both Passeron, Motonow and his girlfriend Louise Culliford were sick and tired of what The Divine Mirror had become. From Motonow's autobiography:
C.J. Motonow wrote:What used to be a thriving community of visionaries whom each conjured unique and dream-like imagery, had falled prey to their own lack of discipline. In their quest to expand their imaginations with divine nectars, they foolhardily atrophied their inner vision with PsychBoost. As capricious as LSD can be, the dreaded PsychBoost makes the old trusy acid look like cane sugar in comparison. It was not just me and my beloved Louise who saw this fact, for the sheer obviousness of that particular reality glared like a flame. Romain Passeron was the first to agree with us - and one after one, every member of the Divine Mirror Group who still possessed artistic integrity followed suit.


In 3330, The Divine Mirror group had been disbanded and most of the former members had departed from each other. Some went into rehabilitation and gave up the world of weird art entirely. Motonow, however, soldiered on dauntlessly in spite of financial troubles and Louise Culliford's departure from him.

At the time Motonow returned to the public after years of isolation in the Divine Mirror Collective, art gallery owners from all across the galaxy were willing to pay enormous sums for one of the hundreds of strange paintings he had produced in his teenage years. Though Motonow himself at first shuddered at the idea of giving away art for money, as he believed even the slightest commercial element to be capable of ruining potentially great art, but he complied after considering that he almost was bankrupt at the time due a lack of education.

Finding himself worshipped as a god by art critics (for starting The Divine Mirror) and film critics (for the Vortex Octology), Cesar Jorge Motonow announced in 3331 that he would begin accumulating money for an enormous cinematic project, which he would not reveal until a month before it opened. And when he said that, he already had access to more money than any other artist had in history. Some people started expecting a big-budget version of Twin Fullmoon, which had become a classic despite Motonow's dislike of it. Motonow started perusing art journals, exhibitions and even comic books to find artists who had been inspired by the Divine Mirror. He contacted other underground filmmakers which cited his Vortex Octology as a major influence. An army of rumours took flight and it was soon obvious to the public that Motonow was working on the most expensive movie ever, together with an army of likeminded filmmakers who rarely made big-budget movies.

It was testament to the enormity of this project that it did not only involve humans, Apexais and Zigonians; but even Bragulans were significant players in the production. Tens of millions were employed, all under a vow of silence.

In 3337, after six years of hard work by a horde of production crew which moved from system to system to shoot film, Motonow announced that the film was complete. The Mendelsohn Film Corporation took on the arduous task of distributing it all.

The 6th October 3337, the mammoth production had finally arrived in the theaters: Cesar Jorge Motonow's Star Wars, with Motonow himself portraying Obi-Wan Kenobi.

This was not the first time someone had remade the Star Wars movies, but whereas the previous remakes followed the source material very closely, it was for a reason that the opening credits Motonow's Star Wars made it clear that it was "an alternative interpretation of the myth first channeled by George Lucas in 1977 A.D."

Fans of George Lucas' original Star Wars movies from the 20th century were outraged. The plot of Motonow's Star Wars only resembled Lucas' in rough details, the visual style was more like Motonow's own paintings than anything else, the familiar John Williams score was replaced by surrealistic death metal composed and performed by Motonow himself and the only things which were exactly he same as in the source material were the names of the characters.

Motonow himself was quick to offer an explanation:
C.J. Motonow wrote:"Star Wars" is a myth of the modern days. George Lucas did not create that myth, he merely was the one who communicated the myth to the general public. Storytellers don't make myths, they tell the myths. Each of us has our own interpretation of a myth. What your ancestors saw on the screen back in 1977 was George Lucas' interpretation of a particular myth. This is my interpretation of the same myth. One should neither forget that George Lucas was a product of a nation and culture which no longer exists. Thusly, George Lucas' Star Wars was a 20th century rendition of a myth that belongs to no place or time.


Motonow's Star Wars was certainly neither the child-friendly Star Wars of Lucas. Motonow's Star Wars depicted self-mutilation as an essential part of the Jedi Experience, and had a certain amount of perverse sexual content. Even more gruesome was the flashback scene wherein the origin of Darth Vader was told. In Motonow's version, Darth Vader committed ritual suicide by decapitation only to let his dismembered soul possess a robotic body he had constructed for the purpose.

Another point of critique from the "Warsies" was the starship designs - whereas most of the starships in Lucas' Star Wars looked uniformly mechanical and utilitarian (with the exception of the Mon Calamari warships and Naboo ships), Motonow went for the complete opposite direction and depicted all of the Rebel and pre-Imperial starships as something which resembled mechanical insects or robotic fish more than actual spaceships; where his depiction of the Imperial warships were heavily inspired by 20th century painter H.R. Giger. Again, Motonow had a reason to do so:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Ever since the Industrial Revolution, human culture has been dominated by one central theme: The conflict between nature and culture. Take a look at a spaceship. The spaceship is the ultimate achievement of culture. The spaceships sailing the sea of stars today are in shape and spirit a far, solemn cry from anything in nature - save for those of the Apexai of the Zedath-Kaleshi Nomads. But Nature and culture do not have to be polar opposites. The universe is not a binary system. It takes drastic steps to unite Nature and Culture as I wish it to be. I also happen to be a pantheist, which means that I do not believe that God created the universe; I rather believe that the universe is divine enough in its own right!

When making this movie, I wanted to subtly yet clearly expect my ideology - and what better than to depict mechanical spaceships of gleaming steel (culture), which nonetheless resemble strange plants and animals (nature) while sailing the astral seas (the divine)? Feel free to criticize my Star Destroyers for not resembling the giant refrigerators which in real life flaunt the arrogance of Man towards the great divine Universe which created him! I am one of the few to even hope of achieving a state of being One with the Cosmos, and all I create reflect that.

My Imperial Star Destroyers are not sterile machines but great warrior-dragons with steel for skin and electricity for blood, whose cyborg souls each will one day find peace in great nebular graveyards littered with the corporeal remnants of other great war-beast of the past who one rode triumphantly across the sidereal battlefields with emerald-gleaming hatred in their myriad eyes! And the fighters that they disgorge forth like hordes of bees from a hive... no mere sterile machines either, but star-chariots from where great heroes launch arrows charged with the energy of the universe, and meet their fate; that is an untimely demise in the light of dying suns!\r\n


In the face of adversity, Motonow did not hesitate to follow it up with his personal takes on The Empire Strikes Back and Return Of The Jedi, which were shot back-to-back with his re-interpretation of A New Hope. They became progressively weirder and more detached from Lucas' edition with each movie. Not only did Motonow's version of Return Of The Jedi depict a completely redundant scene of Emperor Palpatine (portrayed by Motonow's old friend Romain Passeron) defecating and urinating on-screen, but it also depicted Jabba the Hutt as a rail-thin creature equal part reptile and insect (the total antithesis of the gluttonous Jabba depicted by Lucas), the Ewoks as winged, bird-like creatures which lived in the crowns of mile-high trees and Coruscant as a giant "Dyson Sphere". The ending of Motonow's Return Of The Jedi, which the author of this biography will not spoil, is considered by many to be the strangest 20 minutes ever filmed.

Motonow didn't stop at remaking the first Star Wars trilogy in the image of his own strange visions. In 3255, he unleashed upon the moviegoers of the galaxy nothing less than Cesar Jorge Motonow's Star Wars: The Beginning - A Trilogy In Three Parts. In this prequel trilogy, Motonow completely disregarded the much-maligned "actual" Prequel Trilogy which George Lucas made in the early 21th century. Perhaps due to the overall negative attitude towards Lucas' Prequel Trilogy, all three parts of Motonow's Star Wars: The Beginning were much more well-received than his rendition of the "Original Trilogy" despite being even more surreal and "adult". In Motonow's Prequel Trilogy, Luke and Leia were seemingly a product of an incestuous union between brother and sister, though Motonow's version of Anakin was in fact just the adopted brother of Ms. Skywalker; his actual origins being much more outlandish... (for spoilers, read the Encyclopedia Galactica article on C.J. Motonow's Star Wars)

Cesar Jorge Motonow's Star Wars: The Beginning also introduced Cesar Jorge Motonow to Raven Tiffany Sinclair, as she portrayed Luke Skywalker's mother Honoria Skywalker. (in the Lucas version, she was called Padmé Amidala) However, it wouldn't be before thirty years later that he would marry her and utterly transform her life. Despite being perhaps the most visually impressive movies ever filmed, Motonow's Star Wars movies barely earned in more cash than they cost; though that most likely were because of the movies' enormous budgets than anything else. The critics were certainly lukewarm at best towards Motonow's re-interpretation of Star Wars upon their initial release. However, by the day that Cesar Jorge Motonow's Star Wars: The Beginning- Chapter 3: The Alteration Of The Fabric Of The Multiverse stopped showing at the theatres after a couple of months, Motonow's Star Wars was already rapidly in the process of becoming the cult classic movies of the 33rd century.

By the year 3257, however, Cesar Jorge Motonow himself was so exhausted from remaking Star Wars that he moved into a lonely forest cabin on the USS "garden world" of Cathubodva with his newest girlfriend, the neo-alternarealist sculptor Reena Li. The paintings which Motonow produced during his rest on Cathubodva, which are currently in the possession of his descendants, were very different from his usual work. Unlike the nightmare motives he loved to depict, in the 3260s Motonow proved to himself and Reena that he could do more than that - with his own words:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Though the supernatural always is very beautiful, I have not fallen into the Surrealist pitfall of regarding reality as inherently inferior. Art reflects the mind of the artist, and as I sought tranquility in the woods, I painted what I found - vast arboreal vistae of endless forest! The unparallelled majesty of the dark woods, that great eternal temple to the glory of itself! It is a shame that the gift of intelligence always is accompanied by an urge to forget the divine nature of the universe that spawned us, and this universe does certainly encompass more than just the ebony-dark sea of stars! I often felt more at home between Cathubodva's gigantic pines and oaks than among towers of steel and concrete. Most important was the guidance with which Reena provided me; I see it no coincidence that her graceful visage was like that of an elf - for her mind was truly able to reach beyond this corporeal plane of existence and grant all around her wisdom from above!


Aside from what would later be called the Woodland Paintings, his artistic products in the 3260s also consisted of the philosophical book Sentience (published in 3267), which was an in-depth exploration of Motonow's personal philosophy. It revealed a man who had evolved into a quite different person than the man who formed The Divine Mirror and wrote its manifesto. Though the quasi-pantheist core of Motonow's ideology was intact, philosophers comparing Sentience to The Manifesto Of The Divine Mirror found Sentience to present a much more complete set of ideals than the former.

Fully independent of Motonow, the publication of this book led to a group of young visionary artists forming the New Divine Mirror Group in 3270. Both Motonow himself and the other remaining members of the original Divine Mirror (Romain Passeron, Lagonda Clarkson III, Aatami Laiho, Ciaran McTighearnán and Dana Fialková) welcomed the idea. Not only Motonow but also Fialková and McTighearnán appreciated the New Divine Mirror's decision to use Sentience as their manifesto. (later on, however, both Clarkson and Passeron developed a pronounced dissatisfaction with the New Divine Mirror; a dissatisfaction which spread its way to Motonow)

Motonow returned to filmmaking in 3271 with Silent And Dark, a two-hour movie which told a story without depicting or mentioning any characters or people. Instead, Silent and Dark was perhaps one of the first movies built entirely on a language of symbolism intended to trigger various mechanisms in the subconscious.

To say that Silent And Dark split the film world would be an understatement. Roughly half of the reviewers praised it as if it was the best thing since the invention of sliced bread, while the other half criticized it as some of the most pretentious and dull material ever filmed.

The following year, Motonow visited the Apexai Settlements of Zedath-Kaleshi Nomads to collaborate with noted Apexai filmmaker Trantys Zeolak Kechaagis on Interdimensional Travel By The Metaphysics Highway, which necessitated some peculiar cybernetic implant in Motonow and Kechaagis since the "film" was literally several LSD trips captured on film. What neither Kechaagis nor Motonow expected was the fact that this particular film would become commonly used by biologists to show highlight the differences between the nervous systems of humans and Apexais.

In 3272, Reena Li left him; an event which neither experienced as a tragedy, instead quite the opposite, as documented by following statement from Motonow:
C.J. Motonow wrote:I did not break up with Reena. There was no hostility between us, and we continued to have a healthy friendship between each other which still consists today. Rather, we both came to the conclusion that we no longer had much significant to learn from each other; another thing must also be understood. The relationship I had with Reena was not of a sexual nature. In retrospect, I think that I committed a grave mistake in describing her as my girlfriend. It would have been more appropiate to call her my muse or guiding angel; if only neither of those terms had been beaten to death with extreme prejudice by their respective stati as clichés. Though there indeed is a connection between art and sex, they are sometimes able to exist independently of each others.


He collaborated shortly with Reena Li in 3273 on yet another strange movie of his. Yet another example of Motonow's ability to tell fabulous tales with movies made on minimal budgets, Union Of Heaven And Hell could not have a more fitting title. Combining more "ordinary" material with a synthesized-by-CGI-version of the filmed LSD hallucinations seen on Interdimensional Travel By The Metaphysics Highway.

Working tirelessly as ever, he produced two more infamous works in 3274; the 40-minute short movie Tapestry Woven With Swords which told an undescribable story entirely by means of footage taken from old news transmissions, and the book Thoughts on the Art of Spaceship-Building: How Artifice Reflects Philosophy. The latter was an analysis of spaceships - both civilian and military - as they were sculptures or paintings rather than vehicles. This book was also written in cooperation with a team of spaceship engineers from all over the galaxy - the most famous of whom were Kyran Naxa Zalkaran (a Zedath-Kaleshi Apexai who would later work on the design of the Zalassar-class heavy cruiser) and Preeti Singh (starfighter designer employed by Eurasian Systems at the time). Due to the following passage in Thoughts on the Art of Spaceship-Building, the CEID went to arrest Motonow:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Though the warships of the Bragulan Empire are dominated by the same blocky, machine-like forms as those of the Sovereignty's Star Force, the Bragulans' style of design seems noticeably less awkward upon further analysis. A further cultural and sociological study reveals that the utilitarian, technocratic and imperialistic style of the Imperial Bragulan vessels goes hand in hand with the monoculture of the Bragulan Star Empire. Darvyl S. Byzon I, Imperator of the Bragulans, writes in his self-biography that "to ensure a strong culture, beauty should be defined as that which most explicitly projects physical force and military power". When looking at any capital ship of the Imperial Bragulan Navy, that is exactly the type of philosophy I see expressed in its warhammer-like shape. Contrast to the ships which represent the USSF; though the United Solarian Sovereignty is among the most culturally diverse of all interstellar confederations, almost every ship above corvette size is nothing but a monument of the USS' betrayal towards the most gifted ones of its own citizens! Not that I sympathize with the Bragulan Empire, but they produce at least some degree of unison between thoughts and otherwise inanimate objects.


The following CEID-Zero investigation, however, failed to prove any sort of honest sympathy for the BSE within Motonow, and he was released after the period of time which the investigation took. This was not the only misunderstandings arising from Thoughts on the Art of Spaceship-Building, which prompted Motonow to write a follow-up book in 3276 which aptly more the name: Yet More Thoughts on the Art of Spaceship-Building.

Aside from featuring some interesting comments on the spacecraft featured in his infamous remakes of Star Wars in addition to elaborating on the theories of how to apply art analysis to spacecraft. On the former topic, it provided a frequently-quoted paragraph:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Some may accuse me of advocating a style-above-substance approach to the design of spaceships. There is plenty of evidence that this is not true, and many of those sources of hope are within service among some of the Sovereignty's closest allies - the Zedath-Kaleshi Apexai. Look at the Kelvaxor-class interdictor, the Sanbugir-class liners or the huge city-ships that constitute the Settlements; clearly not products of short-sighted shallowness! While most of the galaxy's inhabitants get around in clumsy grey boxes possessing all the charm of an old pair of shoes, there is a thriving civilization here whose members live, travel and fight in glittering vehicles- full of wonder in form and function. No, I do not wish that humanity should start reshaping itself in the image of the Apexai, but I hope that when a billion suns will set upon homo sapiens, we shall not only have as glorious a past to look back upon as the Zedath-Kaleshi, but also much more to teach new civilizations that may spring up in the future.

I dream of faraway future when an utterly ancient humanity, living in their own era's autumn yet a thousandfold times more noble than their forebears, draw envy from the rest of the galaxy for the apotheosis though art which will be achieved through a perfect symbiose of the metaphysical and the corporeal. As such, the future mankind of my visions deserve to illuminate their disciples from aboard great shining ships worthy of the gods we will have become by then; each a testament to the glorious legacy of its builders. Sadly, I have though my life-experience witnessed that only very few of us currently lack such a potential for greatness, but amongst those are I, who have always desired to lead the entire universe to glory!


Though it is debatable whether "The Man With One Ear" succeeded in fulfilling such dreams, he certainly inspired many similar ones. The same year as Yet More Thoughts... was published, the by-then nascent artistic movement known as Neo-Alternarealism held their Third Annual Convention. At that particular meeting, they cited as their greatest influence (aside from, of course, the Alternarealist movement of the mid-3250s) none other than Cesar Jorge Motonow himself. Motonow's own response to this was these simple words (simple by Motonow standards, that is!): "I sometimes think that my influence of those to view me as a mentor will be greater than the influence of my own work. I can certainly say than I am a spark which brought visions of an otherworldy nature to all who would ever whisper my name; even the blind. I am one, I am All. When my body has ceased to function and my ashes cast to the solar winds, my legend will live forever in the collective heart of the Universe, for I am a god among men."

In 3278, he was employed for a short while as an art critic by the famous holo-webzine The Look And Sound Of Armageddon. Since said holo-webzine happened to be one of the prime sources for information on the rapidly developing school of Neo-Alternarealism, it was already interesting to hear the opinion of a man without whom much of the best known Neo-Alternarealist art would not have existed. By the New Year of 3279, Motonow's work for The Look And Sound Of Armageddon was compiled in the legendary anthology Only The Insane Are Truly Free: The State Of The Art 3279 A.D.. The title of this anthology came from Motonow's prologue to the compilation - an essay he had decided to publish as a standalone praise of Neo-Alternarealism in Art And Philosophy. However, since he finished by the time he had finished compiling his articles written for The Look And Sound Of Armageddon, he changed his mind and used it as the title and introduction of said compilation. As with many of his previous essays, this sparked much debate in Art And Philosophy.

However, a day in February 3279, in his distant seaside house on the planet Celeste in the edge of the USS, Cesar Jorge Motonow would be inseperably united with a woman he had only collaborated with by little more than coincidence before. Not one life, but two, would be changed forever for what both would consider ultimately empowering. It was the year Cesar Jorge Motonow met none other than Raven Tiffany Sinclair.

By the time that happened, Raven had reached the absolute low point in her life. 44 years old, she was by then a washed-up former sex symbol whom neither the press nor fellow celebrities would leave alone. Though still a capable actress, her reputation had been damaged forever by the "Review Incident" (see biography of Raven Tiffany Sinclair); though not officially blacklisted, she had become a showbusiness pariah by the time. Motonow vividly recalls it:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Besides my tiny 3332 Fiat Septimio, a huge and lavish luxury car suddenly parked. I'm no expert on automobiles, but the words "Oberon Motors" were written on its colossal hood. Its door opened and out steppened a woman approximately 165 centimetres in height. As she stammered into the light, I could pick out her features more closely. She was rather thin, her figure being more like that of a teenage girl than a grown woman. Her face was somewhat triangular with narrow jaws, raised cheekbones, large blue eyes and a forehead which was slightly higher than normal. Her greasy hair shoulder-length was dyed blue, her skin as pale as cream and she was wearing a quite worn dress which was torn open and ripped various places so that it was no longer recognizeable. The dress appeared to have been mutilated intentionally, as if the wearer had done it. I recognized that woman immediately. I had stared into those sky-blue eyes before. It was Raven Tiffany Sinclair. Drenched in the rain which poured down from the night sky, she huddled herself close to me and looked me in the eyes and said, tears flowing from her eyes: \"I... I want to be reborn, for I have killed myself and lived."

I immediately understood that she did not mean that she had literally attempted to commit suicide, but that said suicide was a spiritual, intellectual and social one.


Unexpectedly, Motonow found out that Raven Tiffany Sinclair had built up some sense of admiration for him. As burned up and depressed she was at the time, she saw no way out other than to flee into his arms to reconstruct her own personality from scratch. Motonow himself eagerly welcomed her decision - for neither of the two had much faith in psychiatry nor even advanced neuro-programming therapy. In fact, Motonow downright detested even the former - he once famously described any sort of therapy as "amputation of the soul".

Rather, Motonow saw himself as Raven's guide on some sort of metaphysical quest. It did not last more than a few months before the two fell deeply in love with each other. Raven felt so reliant upon Cesar that it seemed to her a logical extension of their relationship. Cesar hadn't had an actual partner for a long time aside from various affairs with female art journalists and Neo-Alternarealists.

Motonow felt that he learned just as much from her as she learned from him. Before meeting her, he knew very little about the metropolitan glamour of the Sovereignty's upper class which he despised so much without really knowing why. Surprisingly, it wasn't to avoid a degradation into decadence through wealth, Cesar Jorge Motonow never copyrighted any of his work aside from his Star Wars remakes. This was rather a consequence of his belief that artists channel visions rather than creating them. This is not to say that Motonow did not work for a living - he had since 3271 made money off by writing for various magazines; most notably Art And Philosophy where he had a regular column.

By 3281, it appeared as though Raven Tiffany Sinclair had completed her metamorphosis from sexually promiscuous starlet to... something else. She had certainly changed in appearance when she appeared in public the first time for two years - her hair was short and dark brown instead of long and blue, she dressed more plainly and she also appeared to have gained 5-7 kgs. of weight. It was in fact her who got the idea for the movie which she directed together with C.J. Motonow in 3282 - The Cupcakes Of Justice, which told the story of a vigilante who fought crime by use of various desserts he had baked himself. A scene from this film which is universally known and often referenced is one where the vigilante prevents a bank robbery by asking a gunman: "Would you not rather have a delicious apple pie today than 4 million stolen credit tomorrow?"

This interesting satire upon the superhero genre did not stop there - in The Cupcakes of Justice, the vigilante only as "The Baker" also fought mutated plants and extradimensional demon-gods; all by use of cakes. The movie's climax is often nominated by film critics today as among the most hilarious moments in cinematic history.

Somehow, it was followed in 3283 by Fried Fish; the title could not be more accurate, but it's the only movie which Motonow regrets making, as opposed to the mere self-disappointment he felt over Twin Fullmoon. Marketed as his own satire on action movies, Fried Fish was 90 minutes of Motonow frying fish on a barbecue and explaining the symbolic meaning of it all. Raven Tiffany Sinclair-Motonowa (as she was now called) explained the same year that her husband directed the movie under influence of hallucinogens as opposed to using them in the writing process; a fact which he admitted.

However, the year 3283 also saw a positive surprise for Motonow. October 12 that year, he read about a new artistic movement called Degeneratism. Capitalizing on the way that 20th century modern art was dubbed "degenerate" by its detractors, Degeneratism set out to create intentionally degenerate and decadent paintings, sculptures, installations, music, movies and architecture. The remarkable thing was that the founder of Degeneratism, Alexander Passeron, was the son of Motonow's old friend Romain Passeron. In this year and up to 3285, Motonow teamed up with the Degeneratists and wrote a regular feature on this movement in The Look And Sound Of Armageddon while giving said Degeneratism a try. In 3285, Josephine Bernhard's sculpture "Vanity Incarnate In Metallic Flesh" was erected in front of the town hall of Heliopolis, the capital city of the Sovereignty planet Korendor. This strange artifice, which was actually a perfectly ergonomic bench to boot, was partly designed by C.J. Motonow. This year, Raven Tiffany Sinclair-Motonowa also became pregnant with a daughter, who was born later that year, named Tiffaine Sonia Thereza Sinclair-Motonowa. This daughter would, as an adult, often shorten her name to "Tiffaine Sonia Sinclair". (the granddaughter was just named Tiffaine Sinclair-Motonowa)

The rearing of his daughter (as well as his son Augusto Sinclair-Motonow, born in 3287) caused Motonow's own artistic activities to grind to almost a halt for the following 15 years. However, his wife Raven Tiffany Sinclair-Motonowa (soon a mother of two) made her first foray into art with a series of ink paintings of jelly-based desserts intended to emulate the illustrations in a cookbook. Many commented on the odd coincidence of Raven Tiffany Sinclair-Motonowa's fascination with depicting jelly with her recent weight gain, which many considered an improvement upon her appearance. (including herself)

Motonow did produce one artifact in those ten years - the 3290 novel "Diary Of A Severed Head", which he illustrated himself. Like his previous projects, "Diary Of A Severed Head" met quite a mixed response from reviewers; however, this time its detractors hated it for exactly the same reason that it was praised by others: Its plot was impossible to describe, often incoherent, yet it left no-one without an opinion.

In 3298, Cesar Jorge Motonow went into another creative burst. Seeing that Degeneratism had died out, its influence having now been absorbed in painting, architecture and even car design, he proclaimed that he would set sail for new horizons. He started with various poetry collections which he gave away for free to various friends. Some of them later turned up in The Look And Sound of Armageddon - however, as they asked for permission to print them, Motonow surprisingly demanded payment; an act that showed how he had changed from a solitary eccentric to a man with responsibilities as a husband as a father.

He was not decried as a "sellout" by the art critics now that he was a professional artist; rather, everyone interested was willing to pay. In 3303, he contacted a few of his friends which used to be in the Degeneratist movement and resumed his pursuit of architecture and interior design. Many of the bars popular today among the Sovereignty's upper class were designed as collaborative projects between Cesar Jorge Motonow and people such as Josephine Bernhard and Zhang Wu.

Together with Karam Quraishy, another frequent contributor to Art And Philosophy, in 3308 he started work on a series of books detailing the art directions of the 33rd century's latter half. The first was a revolutionary book about the Divine Mirror, which was as in-depth an account of the movement's history as possible due to being written largely by its founder. The other books in the series concentrated on the New Divine Mirror, the Neo-Alternarealists and the Degeneratists respectively. His artistic career was over soon, however, as he documents in his autobiography:
C.J. Motonow wrote:Alas, even the immortal grow weary over time. By 3314, I had accomplished more in my life than one hundred lesser men. Some have said that it is better to go out in a blaze of glory than to fade away into obscurity, but my life has been one continuous blaze of glory. Every torch will eventually fade away. I had found out, perhaps too late, that even gods need rest. No, I did not contemplate suicide - instead, I decide to spend the rest of my life in quiet contemplation. For your pleasure, I have written this reflection upon my long life.


Motonow's autobiography, Farewell, was published in 3316. He did relatively little after his retirement except for the occassional essay in Art And Philosophy or The Look And Sound Of Armageddon.

When Raven Tiffany Sinclair-Motonowa died in 3332, he was overcome by a great sorrow he never recovered from. He was not seen in public for half a year and ceased all contact to the world around him.

In 3338, 6 years after the death of his beloved Raven Tiffany, Cesar Jorge Motonow disappeared without trace. Many theories abound as to how he died, but none of them have been confirmed. Some, including his son Augusto, speculated at a time that his father was not truly dead but was in fact the true identity of "Gregorius", a mystery artist whose bizzarre paintings were sent by an anonymous mailbox to an art gallery located on the Sovereign world Tarsonis. When Gregorius was revealed in 3345 to be a collective of various artists who used the same pseudonym, that theory was thrown away. Currently, the most popular hypothesis about Motonow's disappearance is that he committed suicide after being unable to cope with his wife's death, the sorrow defeating him after six painful years.

[Quotations]
C.J. Motonow wrote:I have accomplished more in 40 years than a thousand lesser men can accomplish over a century. I may one day have more influence upon how people think than Jesus Christ or Buddha ever had. How can my mind not be worth more than those of a thousand ordinary men combined?

C.J. Motonow wrote:The genre of science fiction is obsolete. What was fantasy 600 years ago is reality now. Technology has given us abilities which our ancestors attributed to gods. But has such technological advancements made all of its users gods? By no means. My version of Star Wars is not sci-fi. It does not explore the impact of technology upon culture and nature solely, for material for such studies is already too abundant in real life. Rather, it is a mythical and philosophical work which explores subjects much more important - the relationship between mortals and the divine who walk among them. For you see, goddesses and gods are not shadowy, elusive men and women who wait for us in some imagined afterlife. No, deities walk among us! They are beings of flesh and blood - be they human, Zigonian, Apexai, Bragulan or whatever. I am very certain that I am a god myself! Now, you may ask me, where I draw the line between gods and lesser men. That is a good question indeed, and that is the very premise of my version of Star Wars. I believe I have treated such a paradigm with much greater respect and intelligence than anyone who previously channeled The Myth."
C.J. Motonow wrote:I am a god. Some of each generations has the potential to become divine himself or herself. The works of art I create are gateways to divinity.

C.J. Motonow wrote:My movies heal wounded souls better than any psychiatrist could ever hope of.
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"Sometimes Shroomy I wonder if your imagination actually counts as some sort of war crime." - FROD
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