* 
Welcome Guest. Please login or register.
Did you miss your activation email?


*
gfxgfx Home Forum Help Search Login Register   gfxgfx
gfx gfx
gfx
Pages: [1] 2
Print
Author Topic: another Hiveling myth: the Nohopuku  (Read 4598 times)
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
seth ghibta
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 138
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 766



View Profile
« on: 16 October 2009, 04:38:38 »

well, it was a long time coming, but here we go. i'm not entirely sure about a lot of aspects of it, but lets see what people think. :P

The Nohopuku: I will not speak.

Overview


This myth of the “Vikh people is generally held to be something of an origin tale; explaining the strange apparitions they call “Nohopuku”, meaning literally “I will not speak. Nohopuku are an extraordinary phenomenon in themselves – a hiveling composed of the dangerous needlefly, and one of the only kind of hivelings held to be universally dangerous – they will consume any creature which offers them an entrance – usually, as this myth illustrates, an open mouth.

It should be noted that needle flies in reality are far more efficiently deadly, at least in large swarms, than they may be portrayed in this tale. The “Vikh, of course are aware of this, but it seems that for this particular myth the ordinary power of needle fly attacks is toned down, perhaps to offer greater contrast to the terrifying prospect of the Nohopuku. It’s also interesting to note that the unusual depiction of a spirit (i.e. the earth spirit in this tale) as cunning, perhaps even malevolent, is a diversion from more conventional, positive views taken by the “Vikh. This is perhaps best explained by the fact that it is Vense, a Tehuriden, and therefore, atleast as far as this ancient story is concerned, an inevitable exile, who causes the change in the spirit. Nowadays this tale is told less often, or in heavily altered form, as shifting perceptions of the Tehuriden people see them in a less prejudiced light. Often the tale is ended with Csaer’s flight to her home, completely changing the tone to a very bleak tale, in which there is no clear moral. Generally, though, it is simply altered so that Vense’s portrayal is less offensive from a Tehuriden standpoint. In whichever form it is told, it remains a fairly popular myth, both for the appealing amount of death and violence that keeps it a favourite with children, and for the very real need to educate all about real-life Nohopuku, which still appear around some areas of the drifting woods.

Narrating the story.

Hush now, and listen.

Hush now, for my tale is a dark and quiet one, and you would do well to pay close attention.

Hush, now...

Don’t say a word.

Do you hear that? The song of the forest. This is the voice of life itself, so strong and ancient that it never needs rest. Everything sings, even if it has no voice. Of course, it is our role to sing for those that cannot sing for themselves.

There is music in the midst of silence, more than anyone can hear or understand.

If you remember that, and loose your tongue too freely, it may just save your life.

There was a young man; we will call him Vense, a clever, beautiful, impetuous man with a dark eyed, passionate face, pale and delicate as a carving in ivory; and he believed he was in love with a woman. What she, who was named Csaer, had to say about this didn’t greatly affect him; he believed nonetheless that he was greatly in love. She, though, was inclined to be thoughtful, to listen; strange, clever girl! to what the older women said, and she learnt that the strange, dangerous darkness about him meant more than just an impetuous nature. It meant Tehuriden, and as everyone knows, that meant he would be sent away. She didn’t want the fleeting love of an exile; whether or not he sung her songs about the way she walked, her feet touching the ground as lightly as fish touch the surface of a still pool. And she told herself she should expect more than that, if only for his sake, because footsteps can’t keep a heart forever. And that is what she told herself.

So tactfully, but never too softly, she turned away his promises to love her forever, and smilingly she told him to save his love for the moon, who could better live up to his expectations, and who would follow him wheresoever he went.

She turned away from impetuous Vense, and chose instead a quieter man. His eyes were palest grey, flecked with gold like the eyes of a smiling frog, and he had no skill in singing. But she liked him very well. You want to know his name? Listen, then; his name was Blau.

Whilst the girl Csaer grew closer to Blau, she allowed herself to forget Vense, though he by no means forgot her. His bitter disappointment at being rejected met with his fear and anger at being exiled, and they boiled together and mixed like blood and water, tainting eachother. He grew reclusive and terribly angry, forever lurking on the edges of the forest, singing baleful songs of revenge and justice. Every day he wove the names Csaer and Blau into his songs, hurling those names together into the thick forest air, plotting the most terrible vengeances. His singing was like a heavy storm-cloud knotting itself among the trees, and his rage attracted the flies, who are forever hungry for such things.

He would go out, away from all people, both of the Tehuriden and our own, he would stand alone in the forest and sing, not minding that the sweat soaking his face made it covered with insects, with needleflies. He did not bat them away, though they bit him, for he felt the needleflies were alike to him; forever hungry, never satisfied. The needleflies covered his face, drank his blood, spread across his body and he stood, still, ignoring the pain. Something approached. A spirit of the earth, seeing his bravery and anger, had watched him as he sang. Something in the words of Vense’s chants, in his need for revenge, reached out to this lonely spirit of the soil and mud, and it changed it. The spirit became more human, as Vense became less so. The spirit approached Vense, with his black mask of needleflies, and it spoke to him, in a voice as soft as leafmould, its breath the heavy scent of mud after rain. “Child you are so hungry, what is it you desire?”

Vense replied in a voice thick from the needlefly bites; “I desire only one thing, and that is to be revenged on the woman who scorned me.”

The spirit approached the needleflies, still gorging on the blood of Tehuriden Vense. “Flies, you are so insatiable, what will it take for you to be sated?”

They replied, in a thousand tiny, sharp voices; “we will know satiation only if we have two things: a body to share as one and a clever mind to think with, to tell us when we have drunk our fill.”

The spirit looked at the boy and the flies, and he weighed up their respective wishes. “It is decided, then; this boy shall give his mind to the needlefly swarm – he will be their controller, and in this way he will have the power to claim the vengeance he needs. The needleflies will in this way have a mind, and a face, for the boy will also give his face. But not the whole body, for then you would be too powerful. And this creature will be called Nohopuku. You will devour all who raise their voices against you.”

Vense considered this. He asked “but how will I speak, if I am a creature made only of rustling flies? What will become of my voice?”

The spirit looked at him, with eyes so very old, and in their depths glinted something perhaps not so old, for as I say this spirit was maybe a little more human, a little more like Vense than he would like to know. It said “your voice I will keep for my own, as payment for this service.” And then it smiled at him in a new and cunning way, and then it changed him and the needleflies, as it had said. When it was finished, my friends, a new, terrible creature slid into the dark forest, buoyed on the rustling song of its own wings. All that was left was a human shell- a faceless, voiceless, mindless body, left like a doll in the forest.

Hush, now. Don’t say a word.

A time not worth mentioning later, Blau and Csaer set out to hunt Meandrel, in the company of two other friends. They walked spread out, though Csaer kept close to Blau, clinging to his arm and listening happily as he said very little, in the quiet way that she loved. Up ahead, they heard a soft rustling, like falling feathers. They supposed it was someone kicking up dead leaves, and walked on. A little closer now, they heard frantic a burst of song, of the kind that dispels dangerous creatures. It never finished, but was muffled suddenly, as if the singer choked upon his own tongue. They supposed their friend was making some joke, and walked on, if, perhaps, a little warily.

They came up on the clearing, and saw one of their friends standing there, so they asked him what the game was. “Don’t speak!” he cried, “It’ll come back, just please, don’t say a wor-.” His shout was cut in half by the whine of a thousand thousand needlefly wings. A great swarm, bigger and thicker than any they’d seen poured into the clearing, and Csaer realised with a jolt of fear that one of her friends, a powerful singer whose voice she had heard just heartbeats ago, was nowhere to be seen. The swarm – no, it wasn’t just a swarm of mindless flies, but something far more subtle and purposeful than that – approached the man who had tried to warn Csaer and Blau. Boiling like stormclouds, like water churned by a starwell phaert, like the cooking pot of the moon himself, the swarm-creature (and of course, it was the Nohopuku) rose up. It coiled and pulsed like a living thing fighting with itself, until suddenly it formed a great face, which hung suspended in front of the terrified group.

Csaer gasped in recognition – was this not Vense who grinned so terribly down on them? She knew, then, that it was her rejection that had brought this monster after them. She knew this as the swarm opened wide its fly-formed mouth in a silent roar that froze the blood in her veins. She knew as she watched; as if it was a play acted out before her eyes, the man who had tried to warn her, who had seen his own friend devoured so recently, scream in fear under the senseless fury of the Nohopuku. She knew with every nail and hair of her body that it was her fault, as the Nohopuku poured itself into that man’s open mouth, filling him up with hungry, biting flies. She knew it was her fault as she watched them drink him dry. Blau was tugging her hand, pulling her away, as she watched the last gasping, choking breaths of the man devoured from inside, and saw the flies fountain out, and reform into that beautiful, horrible face.
The transformed face of Vense looked down at them with a terrible anger, and it was all she could do not to cry out in shock.

Poor Csaer and Blau, mute with guilt and horror, could only run. But the Nohopuku was fast. It followed, unhindered by wind, but driven on by the unflinching rage that burned in Vense’s mind, thirsting always for Csaer’s blood, for the smell of her tears of grief. Every fly buzzed with the thought of what was to come. They would make her beg to give her life. They would take all that she loved, and drink it dry as dust.

They ran, and though they were panicked as fishes caught in barbed nets, they told themselves silently, with every gasping breath, that they mustn’t cry out, they mustn’t speak, or they would be consumed, as the others had before them. They ran, and ran, and ran again, but still the Nohopuku followed. They were tired from fear and grief; their feet tattered and spattered with scratches. They came to a hill and Blau stumbled. Fell. He tumbled down the slope like a child’s toy, whilst Csaer, just steps ahead, wheeled round and pressed her hands over her lips, to keep from screaming her panic.

The Nohopuku was upon them.

Blau tried to get up, pushed himself to his feet, scraped and dirty, but the swarm was all around him before he had taken a step towards poor Csaer, frozen in terror, unable to move a step further from her poor, captured Blau. Blau looked at the Nohopuku swarming around him so thick, but not yet biting, as if it were playing with him, only playing. I will not speak. He thought. The swarm gathered itself before him, and made itself into the terrible face which had once been Vense. It snarled, and roared, always as silent as the rustling of wings. I will not speak, thought Blau, and Csaer thought much the same, though tears ran down her face and blurred her vision, so that Blau was only a murky, half-lost shape amid the grey-flickering miasma of needleflies. The Nohopuku seemed to see this wasn’t scaring the two enough, and formed itself into a great, thick fingered hand, the size of a marshoak and just as strong. It reached out, and gripped Blau, but he would not part his lips even to gasp. I will not speak, sir, he thought. I will not speak.  

The Nohopuku was too hungry now to control itself much more; it began to bite Blau, all over his skin, thousands of times, but he still wouldn’t cry out. I will not speak, I will not... He looked imploringly at Csaer, and she wiped enough of the tears away to stare into his gold-flecked eyes, and she knew that he wanted her to run and save herself. Csaer ran, biting her tongue so that blood filled her mouth to keep from screaming with grief. She ran, with his gold speckled eyes filling her head. She ran until she fell down outside her home, and her tongue was bitten all through. Tears mixed with blood and fell to the ground, and she would not, could not, ever speak again.

For days, she didn’t speak, or eat. Her friends and family knew something terrible has happened, but what could they possibly do for this girl who was their most beautiful, but who returned to them silent and hollow eyed, her mouth full of blood and her own tongue bitten out by the force of her horror and grief. They talked to her in hushed voices, and when children passed outside her house, they told each other “hush, now, hush. Csaer is mourning, don’t say a word.”

And then, one day, a man came to her hut in the night, walking as if his feet might not touch the ground. He had no face, but she recognised him as by his long legs that used to step so proudly, so fiercely, as if they expected to shake the ground with each step. This surely was Vense. She was not scared. But this was not quite a man that came to her; it was what’s left of one after he gives his hate and passion to the Nohopuku. It came to her with hands open, and stood outside her door waiting. She knew what it wanted – she’d been keeping it in a little box of waterfruit wood, wrapped in feathers. She took her tongue out of the box, and placed it in the hands of the faceless man. Silently, he turned and walked back into the forest, and she followed him, with a silence more melancholy and heavier than any other in the soft night. They walk until they are far away from the places that people go, and then the Nohopuku assembled in front of them. She was not scared. She had lost her fear with her tongue, with Blau.

The faceless man stepped up to the Nohopuku, and briefly turned back to Csaer, as if he would have looked at her, had he eyes to look with. There seemed something tender and melancholy in this piteous creature, where the Nohopuku was only furious and harsh. The flies buzzed impatiently, and loomed over the faceless man, but he seemed to be trying to tell it something. He held out the tongue, in its little box, cushioned by feathers, and gestured at sullen, hollow-eyed Csaer. The Nohopuku formed its cruel mouth into a snarl, buzzed angrily at the faceless man, impatient and uncomprehending. Csaer watched, impassive as she could be, though there was something hopeful and earnest in the gestures of the faceless man, that reminded her of Blau, even a little bit of Vense, in his way, in the long ago time when he had not been an angry, vengeful spirit but a human boy who believed he was in love. She watched as the faceless man proffered her tongue and then gestured at the Nohopuku, and at herself. She began to understand.

It seemed the Nohopuku did as well, my friends. The faceless man had brought Csaer’s tongue – the symbol of all her suffering and pain, the proof that he had won, had defeated and humiliated her – why should she die? Why not live on in silence? Instead, let us take this blood sacrifice, and let us devour the faceless ragdoll, the last pathetic vestige of our former, powerless self?


It swarmed around the faceless man, holding his gift of Csaer’s tongue, and she was shocked to see him writhe soundlessly as he is sucked bloodless by the forever-hungry flies. She couldn’t help but sob, in the memory of what must have happened to her poor, quiet Blau, and as her eyes misted with tears, she spun her own silent, sharp song, like the death-cry of some lonely bird, whose wings spanned the whole of the dark waters of the forest that night. A mourning song with more breath than sound behind it, in memory of the echoes of Blau, and of the shell of a man, who still felt pain even without a face or a voice to cry out.

Maybe it was her song, calling out to some spirit that wished to put something right that had been made wrong when that earth spirit first let itself listen to Vense’s angry songs. Maybe it was the last struggle of the strange, sad faceless man, who shouldn’t have had a mind but who seemed to have hung onto something of Vense's that he was never aware he possessed. Maybe in that struggle as the lifeblood drained from him, he was able to reach into the spirit of the Nohopuku and pull something out, to take his place as he drifted into the dark waters of death. Nobody can tell why it happened, but the Nohopuku lost something when it devoured the faceless man.

When she recovered herself, the swarm creature was gone, satisfied, for now, and ready to sleep, contented, for many, many moons. She stepped sadly over to the crumpled form left on the moss to be devoured by night creatures, and was astonished to see it stir, ever so slightly. Trembling so she could barely stand, she touched him ever-so soft on the shoulder, and he flinched, a shudder so alive, so familiar, that she smiles despite her newly welling tears. He uncurled, just a little, and took his hands down, away from the face, the face that wasn’t there before. The faceless man had gone, but in his place, quiet and golden-eyed as ever, was her Blau. She tried to speak, sobbing silently and forgetting her lost tongue, the bloody price paid to regain her stolen love. She tried to ask the spirits of the forest how the Nohopuku could be so cruel and yet so strangely compassionate, to return what it had stolen? But she had no tongue; she only sobbed and whimpered; the smallest, loudest noise in that dark forest.

Blau looked up at her and smiled, so shy and so quiet, and she took him desperately in her arms and helped him sit up, though he was so weak she again tried to cry out. Tears streamed down her face, and she was silent and loud and so terribly happy the whole forest echoed with it.

Hush, now, he said.

In times later, the Nohopuku would realise that it had been cheated, and it would come back looking for Csaer, to quench its forever-thirst. It never found her, for between each meal it sleeps for a hundred moons, for a lifetime or more. But nevertheless it is hungry when it wakes, and old and predatory as any creature can be. It will search the forests for anyone who will speak to it, and the second they open their lips it will dive down their throats and eat them from inside.

So, my friends, what do we answer when the Nohopuku asks us its wordless, buzzing questions?

>silence traditionally greets this question, though usually it is interspersed with the inevitable
giggles of nervous excitement. <

I didn’t hear your reply, friends. What is our answer to mister Nohopuku?

>silence, or thereabouts. <

Ahhh. I see you know exactly how to reply.

« Last Edit: 01 November 2009, 17:30:46 by Artimidor Federkiel » Logged

violence is not the answer, but you get marks if you show your working.

Santharia needs your molluscs! donate molluscs now!
Azhira Styralias
Moderator
****

Gained Aura: 132
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 2.775


Mód’dél’áey


View Profile
« Reply #1 on: 16 October 2009, 23:28:40 »

A very creepy, yet interesting tale here, seth!

One thing is not immediately clear...when Blau and Csaer are walking with their friends, it is not clear that the friends are the victims of the Nohopuku. They see the Nohopuku rising over a dead body, but there is not indication that it drank from the victim's mouth. Then, Blau and Csaer run away, knowing not to open their mouths, but it is not clear how they came to know that.

Second, I am not clear on the moral. Why did he want her tongue? My understanding was that he could get his voice back by taking the woman's who scorned him.  huh

Overall, the myth has a very "mythical" feel to it and is told in such a way as to instill suspense. I also found Vense to be a tragic character, but now that his goal is met, what is the Nohopuku to do now?
Logged

No, I would not want to live in a world without dragons, as I would not want to live in a world without magic, for that is a world without mystery, and that is a world without faith. And that, I fear, for any reasoning, conscious being, would be the cruelest trick of all.
Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 143
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 11.657


Shendar, Shen-D'auras


View Profile Homepage
« Reply #2 on: 17 October 2009, 00:19:47 »

Hu, Seth, can't say much yet. Other thna you have a fascinating way to write.

Darn, forgot to fetch my daughter, more later!
Logged

"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path  that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking,  breathlessly. ~Don Juan"
***Astropicture of the Day***Talia's Long, Long List***
seth ghibta
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 138
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 766



View Profile
« Reply #3 on: 17 October 2009, 01:15:58 »

thanks Talia and Azhira!
Azhira, those are really useful questions - i'll admit i was doubtful about how i ended the story, and wether i'd described things clearly enough throughout. i'll get onto those things as soon as i can. :)
Logged

violence is not the answer, but you get marks if you show your working.

Santharia needs your molluscs! donate molluscs now!
seth ghibta
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 138
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 766



View Profile
« Reply #4 on: 21 October 2009, 01:27:35 »

there! I've added quite a bit, so hopefully it's clearer now, maybe even a bit better. still not sure about the "interactive" bit at the end - suggestions on anything are welcome, as always. grin
Logged

violence is not the answer, but you get marks if you show your working.

Santharia needs your molluscs! donate molluscs now!
Miraran Tehuriden
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 61
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 3.999


Creator Of .. well, not much, recently


View Profile Homepage
« Reply #5 on: 21 October 2009, 02:44:17 »

" the cooking pot of the moon herself"
That would be HIMself. Vikthi, the Moon, is a male spirit.

And in regards to the singing; the spirit song is wordless at all times, so it is imaginable for one without tongue to be able to use it in some ways, even though his or her vocabulary of sounds has been severely diminished.

Otherwise i could find no problems here, a wonderfull story indeed!
Logged

Avrah Kehabhra

"The whole POINT of Nybelmar is that no one has any idea whats going on, overly long entries keep it that way." - Decipher Ziron
Azhira Styralias
Moderator
****

Gained Aura: 132
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 2.775


Mód’dél’áey


View Profile
« Reply #6 on: 21 October 2009, 07:48:42 »

Oh yes, wonderful. Now the myth feels complete to me.  thumbup A superb tale that fits well within the culture.

Aura +1 for your work here, seth. Talia may be by later to give comments too.
Logged

No, I would not want to live in a world without dragons, as I would not want to live in a world without magic, for that is a world without mystery, and that is a world without faith. And that, I fear, for any reasoning, conscious being, would be the cruelest trick of all.
seth ghibta
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 138
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 766



View Profile
« Reply #7 on: 21 October 2009, 19:02:54 »

aargh, i knew i should have checked that as i wrote it, but i must have forgotten. Thanks Mira, i'll sort those soon as possible. :P
and thanks Azhira!
EDIT: there we go, i think. i may have missed some of the singing references, either through ignorance of the technicalities of "Vikh singing, or through general doziness.
« Last Edit: 22 October 2009, 03:38:41 by seth ghibta » Logged

violence is not the answer, but you get marks if you show your working.

Santharia needs your molluscs! donate molluscs now!
Artimidor Federkiel
Administrator
*****

Gained Aura: 538
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 23.098



View Profile Homepage
« Reply #8 on: 22 October 2009, 05:30:38 »

Just finished reading the story, and I think it works pretty well. :D You have a great gift to formulate some things so that it really feels like a myth, and the plot is also a great idea, so concept and realization fit together. Also the ending I think is great, especially as you repeat again "I didn’t hear your reply, friends" which emphasizes the whole thing even better, very well done!  thumbup

Aura +1 for such a magnificent story, this time ensuring that we have something for the Tehuriden that deals with the hivelings, so another very integrative work as well! Great job, Seth!  cool
Logged



"Between the mind that plans and the hands that build there must be a mediator, and this must be the heart." -- Maria (Metropolis)
Azhira Styralias
Moderator
****

Gained Aura: 132
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 2.775


Mód’dél’áey


View Profile
« Reply #9 on: 22 October 2009, 23:39:49 »

Blarrowed, unless anyone else has objections.  thumbup
Logged

No, I would not want to live in a world without dragons, as I would not want to live in a world without magic, for that is a world without mystery, and that is a world without faith. And that, I fear, for any reasoning, conscious being, would be the cruelest trick of all.
Miraran Tehuriden
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 61
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 3.999


Creator Of .. well, not much, recently


View Profile Homepage
« Reply #10 on: 23 October 2009, 21:47:59 »

The Mira is pleased. Cookies for all!

(and an aura point for Seth!)
Logged

Avrah Kehabhra

"The whole POINT of Nybelmar is that no one has any idea whats going on, overly long entries keep it that way." - Decipher Ziron
Shabakuk Zeborius Anfang
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 192
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 1.321



View Profile
« Reply #11 on: 02 November 2009, 05:19:07 »

Belated aura from me, now that I've finally read it.

"It is our role to sing for those who cannot sing for themselves ..."

"So tactfully, yet never too softly, she turned away his promises ..."

You always manage to conjure up some truly memorable passages in each of your entries, Seth.
Logged

The greatest danger in life is that you may take too many precautions.
Ding-dong!
Azhira Styralias
Moderator
****

Gained Aura: 132
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 2.775


Mód’dél’áey


View Profile
« Reply #12 on: 02 December 2009, 05:31:34 »

seth,

It was my oversight here, but I noticed this is not written in the Myth template. Oops! No big deal, but maybe revise it later. Its already integrated now.  ;)
Logged

No, I would not want to live in a world without dragons, as I would not want to live in a world without magic, for that is a world without mystery, and that is a world without faith. And that, I fear, for any reasoning, conscious being, would be the cruelest trick of all.
Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 143
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 11.657


Shendar, Shen-D'auras


View Profile Homepage
« Reply #13 on: 02 December 2009, 06:00:29 »

Azhira, it is not necessarily required to write around the myth if the story itself is long enough, it is then like a library entry. (see guidelines) And as this is written for a collection of similar myths to finally end in a book, it can stand as it is.
Logged

"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path  that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking,  breathlessly. ~Don Juan"
***Astropicture of the Day***Talia's Long, Long List***
seth ghibta
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 138
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 766



View Profile
« Reply #14 on: 02 December 2009, 06:19:30 »

that said, i'm equally happy to write a preamble, if it's not too much trouble to add it in during a future update.
Logged

violence is not the answer, but you get marks if you show your working.

Santharia needs your molluscs! donate molluscs now!
Pages: [1] 2
Print
Jump to:  

Recent
[27 March 2019, 00:01:57]

[21 June 2018, 14:28:00]

[31 May 2017, 06:35:55]

[06 May 2017, 05:27:04]

[03 April 2017, 01:15:03]

[26 March 2017, 12:48:25]

[15 March 2017, 02:23:07]

[15 March 2017, 02:20:28]

[15 March 2017, 02:17:52]

[14 March 2017, 20:23:43]

[06 February 2017, 04:53:35]

[31 January 2017, 08:45:52]

[15 December 2016, 15:50:49]

[26 November 2016, 23:16:38]

[27 October 2016, 07:42:01]

[27 September 2016, 18:51:05]

[11 September 2016, 23:17:33]

[11 September 2016, 23:15:27]

[11 September 2016, 22:58:56]

[03 September 2016, 22:22:23]
Members
Total Members: 1093
Latest: sh4l0nda12
Stats
Total Posts: 144684
Total Topics: 11053
Online Today: 138
Online Ever: 580
(07 December 2019, 09:39:18)
Users Online
Users: 0
Guests: 8
Total: 8

Last 10 Shouts:
24 October 2019, 13:31:22
Hi and happy 2019 shoutout from me.
22 February 2019, 06:47:10
A delightful 2019 shout-out to you all ^^
21 November 2018, 23:39:14
Seems none of us can stay away ..
09 March 2018, 23:37:46
Dream goes on as long as there are dreamers my friend.
17 January 2018, 01:23:22
Oh, how I wish we could reawaken the Dream :)
16 January 2018, 11:55:48
Hello everyone!
14 September 2017, 09:40:04
Hello all! It's been a minute since I poked my nose in here. Can't remember if I ever did anything useful.
09 May 2017, 14:17:18
Ah, too bad that internet is so restricted in China, Ferra. Can't be much fun surfing the web that way if Big Brother's watching you... Hope you enjoy your stay nevertheless!
03 May 2017, 17:41:19
Hi, dear Arti and other developers!

This year I am in China and cannot use any Google services including YouTube. For this reason I stopped uploading new Nepris videos. I can also not read any comments there.

It just crossed my mind that this information might be useful to you.

Cheers

F
26 March 2017, 12:48:56
Hello to anyone that might read this. :)
Powered by MySQL Powered by PHP Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2005, Simple Machines
TinyPortal v0.9.8 © Bloc
Valid XHTML 1.0! Valid CSS!
Theme based on Cerberus with Risen adjustments by Bloc and Krelia
Modified By Artimidor for The Santharian Dream
gfx
gfxgfx gfxgfx