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Help and advice / Contacting staff! New user help.
« Last post by New Overlord on October 11, 2019, 10:39:02 PM »
If you need help logging in as a new user, or just need to contact the staff team in general, the information here should help you.

If you're a new user, then please remember to check your emails. An email would have been sent to the email address you signed up with, which you need to click on to activate your account.
You won't be able to log in until this is done.

If you are a new member and are having trouble logging in and activating your account, then you can use the 'contact' form along the menu on the forum.
Fill in the form, with your username you signed up with, and include any other information that will help to us to find you in the list of potential members and we'll do our best to sort the issue out.

Guests alongside current members are able to use the contact form, though current members won't have a capture to click on.

The contact form links directly to the main admin email account, so any issues will be sorted swiftly.

Phoenix Chronicles / Foundation: -Introduction
« Last post by Phoenix on October 11, 2019, 04:46:19 PM »
Thread updated: 11th Oct '19.

I decided to create a new thread, with new chapters being buried and such. I didn't want new readers to be swamped, so here goes a new and more active one!
I'm currently reworking every single chapter. I have them all printed out and going through one by one tweaking and updating in pen. I'll then be posting them up.
I have up to chapter 14 complete! Hopefully will be posting the first one up later today (hopefully....and yes. Again.) later today.
I have notes, calendars and all sorts to push this story to completion! Please read and say what you think if you get the chance.

Without boring you any longer, here is my current (not so) little writing baby.


School is challenging even at the best of times, but when drastic events happen during your last year, sometimes the only comfort is knowing that your friends are beside you going through the same thing.



:Chapter one: You can't cheat death.

Completed, waiting to post up..

:Chapter two: Unwelcome news.
:Chapter three: Spreading the heartbreak.
:Chapter four: Battling authority.
:Chapter five: An uncertain future.
:Chapter six: A temporary beginning.
:Chapter seven: Supportive connections.
:Chapter eight: Remembrance.
:Chapter nine: Saying goodbye.
:Chapter ten: A new home.
:Chapter eleven: Hoping for change.
:Chapter twelve: Personal nightmares.
:Chapter thirteen: Outside discussions.
:Chapter fourteen: Seeking answers.

Work in progress.

:Chapter fifteen: A new trend.

Planned chapter titles, links to be added when chapters are complete.

:Chapter sixteen: Hidden secrets.
:Chapter seventeen: Endless war.
:Chapter eighteen: Broken families.
:Chapter nineteen: Hoping for an escape.
:Chapter twenty: Broken promises.
:Chapter twenty one: Deflated structure.
:Chapter twenty two: Looking for connections.
:Chapter twenty three: The start of something greater.
:Chapter twenty four: Fighting for freedom.
:Chapter twenty five: A new friend.
:Chapter twenty six: Losing the battle.
:Chapter twenty seven: Defeated, but hopeful.
:Chapter twenty eight: Defending the innocent.
:Chapter twenty nine: One last stand.
:Chapter thirty: One last year.
:Chapter thirty one: Joint partnership.
:Chapter thirty two: Searching for help.
:Chapter thirty three: Standing as one.
:Chapter thirty four: Breaking free.

All chapters are listed, but not all are complete. Please read the contents above to find out where I currently am in the story.
Fiction Park / The Other One. Part V - Hot Girls, Cold Dungeon.
« Last post by newchinaren on October 07, 2019, 08:55:36 PM »
“I'm not at all certain that you are who you say you are,” Mother Superior said, unwrapping her whip slowly, and glaring at him.

Glancing at the two, alarmingly muscled, sisters who were glaring at him, and then back at Mother Superior and her glistening whip, Mike decided the only way he was going to get out of here was to go on the offensive.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head.

“I am...” he said, “outraged.”  He jabbed a finger at Mother Superior.  “Outraged I say!  I come here, in good faith, hoping my daughter would learn all about 'The Arts',” he made the air quotes, “and maybe help along a local academic establishment at the same time, and I am met with... I am met with...” he took another deep breath and shook his head.  “THIS!”  He pointed at the rack, and the poor victim, now bleeding profusely from a long gash in his abdomen.”

“Look at this!” he said, pushing roughly past one of the burly nuns, who took a step back at his outrage.  “It's a rack!  A rack for fuck's sake!  What century are we living in, excuse me dear.”  The last to a teenaged girl in a ridiculously short leather skirt who had been wielding the knife.

He made a point of taking in the scene, glaring at the apparatus and the man, whos spasms were slowly subsiding as his life leaked out of him. 

“It's positively archaic!” he said.  “Archaic!” he repeated, enjoying a word that people don't usually get to say.  “I mean, where's the tech?  Where are the wires?  Where's the nerve stimulation?  I am sure my company could do better than this with a high end phone, a VR set and a few optical fibres!  I. Am. Outraged.  Is this all you've got?”

Rant over, he crossed his arms, glared at Mother Superior, and tried not to shit himself.

 Mother Superior Overseer Mary Strikt looked at him for a moment, her whip still by her side.  She glanced at the students, who were all looking at Mike with awe.  He shifted uncomfortably, trying his best not to get a hard on, surrounded by teenage girls in revealing leather outfits.

“Very well.”

“Uh?”  Mike tore his gaze away from one of the students and back at Mother Superior.

“Very well.  I understand.”  Mother Superior gestured at the surroundings.  “Our Great Lord is... traditional.  But I understand your concerns.  We have to move with the times.”  She nodded at the two Bouncer nuns, who withdrew back into the shadows.

“Follow me please.”  She turned and walked towards another door, which Mike hadn't noticed before.

Mike glanced around at the students, one of whom blew a kiss at him, and then followed the senior nun, surreptitiously adjusting the front of his pants.

Mother Superior was waiting for him at the door, which was a solid wooden affair, and looked about five hundred years old. 

Nodding at him as he approached, she turned and, carefully selecting a key from her chair, slid it into the lock and turned it. 

“You are correct of course,” she said, turning the handle.  “We need to keep up with modern times.  As such, we've been using our R and D facilities to find more... unusual methods of spreading the Word.  This is our latest experiment.  I didn't think you would be interested, but now, well, maybe. We are always after more funding.  Finding young girls who people won't miss is never cheap.”

Resisting the urge to comment, Mike simply stepped through into the room beyond the door.   It was a simple room, unlike the others in that it was plain concrete.   Standing against the walls to the left and right were two more nuns.  These were obviously no normal nuns though. 

Their habits were leather, more armour than habits in fact.  and from their wide belts hung wicked looking spiked clubs.  That wasn't enough.  They were both huge!  They would have put any  WWF wrestler to shame.  Both glared at Mike.

Mother Superior ignored both of them, striding across the room to the other door.  This one was eve n more solid than the last, though it had some sort of hatch lower down, and a barred window at head height. Everything about it screamed 'cell'.

Mother Superior reached the door and turned to look at him.

“Here is our latest experiment.  I want you to go in there and... see for yourself what strides in technology we are making.”  She held her key up, as if a dare.

Mike pulled himself up to  his full height.  “Carry on my good woman,” he said. 

Nodding, Mother Superior unlocked the door and pushed it open.  She didn't enter, but looked at him instead.

Taking a deep breath, Mike nodded back, and strode as confidently as he could through the door.

Which slammed behind him. 

The lock turned.

He was locked in.  Had he been more than usually stupid?  Probably.

“Oh, it's you!”

Mike turned and surveyed his surroundings.

As he'd surmised, it was a cell, straight out of medieval times.  It was small, with a covered wooden bucket in one corner, a tiny barred window high up in the wall, and a narrow cot.

On this cot was a young girl, probably no more than twelve years old. She was extremely pretty, with long tousled long hair, and wearing only a thin slip. 

“You've come for me!” she said, and threw herself at him, kissing him passionately.

“Whoaa!” Mike said, untangling himself from her embrace with some difficulty.  Still, that kiss... familiar?

“What?”  the girl pouted.   “Don't you remember me?”

“I... I...”  Mike gulped.  This girl was still a child, and yet...

“Oh, I know!”  she said brightly.  “I don't look the same.  Hold on.”

So saying, she smiled at him in a way that no twelve year old should ever do, and stepped back.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then there was a... disturbance in the fabric of the universe.

Mike peered through eyelids he didn't realise were closed.  And his mouth dropped open.

Standing there, discarding the remnants of a shift too small for her, was... HER. 

“Hi there,” she said, and her grin this time instantly gave Mike the hardest erection he had ever had.  “Have you come to break me out?”

Mike messed himself.


Oh ohh!  Disguistingness!  Well, I'm full of beer, so, whatever.

What's the plan now?  Is Mike going to help her?  If so, how??


Futuristic Skies / Re: Apocolypto Chapter I part III - Dave
« Last post by newchinaren on September 24, 2019, 07:13:40 PM »
The karate master gestured once more, pointing at the bottle, and then looking around, possibly for someone else to jabber at.

“You thirsty old timer?” Dave asked.  He looked at the bottle in his hand, and shrugged.  “Why not?  No harm in befriending the locals.”  So saying, he twisted the top off and offered the vodka to the his new friend.

The result wasn't what he'd expected. 

With an angry shout, the man pulled out the dagger from his belt and took a swing at Dave with it.  “???? you ?????,” he said.

Bouncing back, Dave cried out.  “Hey!  Did you... oh no!”  This last because the man stalked forward another few steps with his knife held in a dangerous fashion ahead of him.

“Fuck this.”  Abondoning all hopes of a stiff drink, Dave threw the bottle at the man, who leaped to one side nimbly enough to dodge the errant container.  This did give Dave the chance to pull out his newly claimed hatchet though.  He wasn't going to risk bending down to recover the gun with Knifey McKnife face ahead of him.

His opponent slowed his advance as he saw Dave wielding the small axe.

“????? dare you ??????? me ?? forbidden ?????” he snarled. 

“What?  What did you say?”  Dave leaped back as the man thrust suddenly, nearly eviserating him. He swung his hatchet wildly in turn, not skillfully, but well enough to force the man back a pace.

“Listen!” he said, as they scowled at each other.  “I think we may have got off to a bad start, my name...”

“I care not what your name is filthy beverage carrier!  Nobody insults Marvak and lives to tell of it.”  Marvak, if that was his name, then bounced forward once more, and with a skilfull attack, scored a thin cut on his arm.

“Ow! You fucker!”  Dave saw red, and countered with a swing of his own, which missed, and a kick to the nuts, which didn't. 

Marvak staggered, impressively keeping upright and at least half focused on Dave, as the barkeep made another wild swing, accidentally kicking the shotgun that he'd forgotten about at the same time.

There was a loud retort, as the firearm went off, blowing a large hole through the unfortunate Marvak, who managed to gape at him for several seconds before collapsing in a pile of blood and guts on the path.

“Jebus!” said Dave, gasping for breath.  He picked the gun up and looked around wildly.  The altercation had to have attracted attention, but the few people in the fields nearby only glanced over quickly, facing away when they saw Dave looking at them.

“Weird and disconcerting.”  Dave put the hatchet back into his belt.  Then he walked over to his poor bottle of vodka, which lay leaking it's fluid out on the path, and picked that up.  There was about half of it left.  He took a swig before retreiving the cap and screwing it back on. 

His items recovered, he stepped over to look at poor old Marvak, who was still dead, spread out in the centre of a dark pool of blood, but at least he wasn't melting.

“Right then, not such a good start.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his little robot.  “Hey, buddy, you awake?”

The tiny robot's eyes lit up, and it swivelled its head to look at him.  “Target particle detected north, within eighteen sectors,” was all it said, before powering down again.

“Er, okay,” said Dave. He looked around again, and then up.  Assuming the sun followed the same rules as he was used to, and there was no guarantee that was the case, and assuming it was afternoon, again no guarantee, then north would be over by the castle.  “Yeah, that would be about right,” he muttered.


Very well then, short and, maybe, sweet this time.  And easy question to answer:  Where next?

To the castle?  Visit the nearby village?  Go and beat up one of the field workers?  Something else?  The world is Dave's oyster, help him eat it please!

Fiction Park / Re: Wlkabout
« Last post by newchinaren on September 24, 2019, 06:21:08 PM »
Poll is up then biatches.  Er, suggestions from... somewhere else.
Ao Alley / Re: Tilt
« Last post by newchinaren on September 24, 2019, 06:17:11 PM »
Heavy man.   :fhtagn:

Keep it coming.
Ao Alley / Re: Tilt
« Last post by Bxtch on September 23, 2019, 11:01:33 PM »
Wow, it's been a while. Only a short one for now.

She dragged her soul from the room, back to the field. Her knuckles had turned white from where she was grabbing hard on her thigh. "It's healed, it's covered. No one will ever know its there".

After a moment of realising her surroundings again she stumbled to her feet. As she stood upright and straightened her spine the world began to spin undernearth her. "Just walk. You've walked home in worse states than this".

Her hands dove into her jacket pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and the trusty lighter. She pulled her shaking hand with the lighter in to her lips and kissed it. Cold metal bit her lips. "I hate you" she whispered. As she pulled the lighter away she read the engraving, again. "20-4-14". The cigarette was soon out the packet and in her mouth, one swift flick of the lighter and a drag later and it was lit.

"I fucking hate you." The lighter was on the floor, then before she knew it, it under her foot. "Fuck this date. Fuck this lighter". She was now in a blind rage stamping on the seemingly indestructable lighter.

The cigarette had been smoked before she realised. Her lighter was aggresively dented on the floor. She swooped back into her pocket and pulled out a cheap lighter and another cigarette. "You're fucking replacable" she muttered with the fresh cigarette between her lips.

"But the scars are always there."

Fiction Park / Wlkabout
« Last post by newchinaren on September 19, 2019, 08:41:22 PM »
Ian hefted his pack and slung it over his shoulder.  Waving at the guy in the pickup as he pulled away, he looked around at his new location.

It was a medium sized city, somewhere in a place he'd never heard of. 

Ian had once seen a cartoon with a man driving a car.  The man had been holding a map labelled 'nowhere', and there was a sign by the road saying 'Now entering the Middle.'

This must have been how he felt.

“Well, fuck it.”  It was hardly the fist strange place he'd ended up. 

Follwing his intuition, he turned around and walked down a nondescript street in the failing light. 

Ian hated being somewhere new when it was dark.  He liked to get his bearings when it was light, then he could find his way around better.

Still, it was what it was. 

Glancing at his watch he saw it was half past seven.  Still plenty of time.

The street he was on was on the outskirts of the town centre, home to all the shops and businesses that aspired to be on the main street, but hadn't quite made it.  Second rate burger joints and charity shops lined the road.  And bars.  And, yes, there it was.  A club.

The 'Rowdy Buck' wasn't busy when he strolled up to it, but there was still a large bald white man with tattoos on his head outside. 

“ID,” the bouncer said, when it became clear Ian was intending to enter.

“These are not the droids you are looking for,” Ian said in way of reply, waving a hand.

The bouncer went blank for a moment, and Ian slid inside.  He'd always been a fan of Star Wars.

The bar wasn't busy yet, but there was still a reasonable smattering of clients.  Mostly middle aged guys on their own, but some younger couples.

He looked around.  There was a pattern to these things, and he was well familiar with it.

Crossing the dance floor, he made his way to the corner of the place, to an unmarked door.  It opened at his touch, and, going through, he found himself in  small but clean office.  It was dominated by a desk that was covered in paperwork.  Behind it sat a large man with an even larger beard.

“Who the fuck are you?”  he began to rise.

“I'm employed here,” Ian said.

The man hesitated a moment.  A strong willed one this chap.  Then he sank back into his chair.  “Oh, yes,” he said.

“I'm Ian, you hired me a week ago, but I had stuff to do, only just arrived.”

“Yeah... yeah sure,” said the man, frowning.

“What's your name?”

“Kevin,” the man answered, still uncertainly.

“Well, Kevin, I need a room.  Where's the best place?”  Ian dumped his backpack down on the floor.

“We have a spare room upstairs, I was saving it for... saving it for...”  Kevin frowned, as if confused.  Not surprisingly.

“You were saving it for me,” Ian said.  “Where is it?”

“Oh, yes.  Sure.”  Kevin pulled out a drawer and, after a moment of fumbling about, pulled out a key on a tarnished ring.  “Here.  Number three.”  He threw the key at Ian, who caught it with his left hand.  “That way.”  He nodded to a door at the back of the office.

“Cool.  See you around.”  Ian picked his bag up again and headed towards the exit. 

“Yeah...”  Kevin shook his head.  Ian did too, he'd have to watch this one.

Still, nothing to worry about for the moment.  He made his way up a rickety flight of steps coated with a carpet that that was apparently held together with semen stains, and found a brown wooden door with a faded 'three' embossed upon it.

Using the key, he opened it to find a surprisingly roomy and clean place beyond. There was even an en-suite bathrooom.

“Top notch,” Ian said, throwing himself onto the bed.  “This will do.”


The club was in full swing, and Ian had hooked his mark.  A fit older guy, probably about fifty.  Grey haired, but surprisingly intelligent and strong willed, he'd stood out the moment he'd walked in. 

It had taken Ian only minutes to hook him.  His new friend was called Ron, and he was the owner of some precious gem business, just passing though.

As they went, this one was good.  He was clean, well educated and paid for everything without Ian having to even suggest it. 

And when it got late, he wasn't adversed to staggering up to Ian's new room for some... extras.

All in all a good night was had by all.  Ian went to sleep as satisfied as he'd been in a while.


Sunlight streaming in woke him. 

“Damn.”  Ian rubbed at his head.  He hated mornings, it was when he was weakest, unsure of himself.

He frowned and looked at his hand.  It was covered in something. 

“What the hell?”

Sitting up he looked around.  The place was trashed. His nice new room was a tip, with most of the furniture matchwood.  The bathroom door was hanging off one hinge.

That wasn't all.  Ian's nice new friend had not been spared.  He was ripped apart.  Pieces of Ron decorated the walls, floor, furniture and Ian.

“What the fu...”

There was a hammering at the door.  The sort of hammering that suggests serious people in uniform on the other side.  The sort of people that wish to ask questions, such as... 'what the fuck happened to Ron and why did you do it?'”

Instinct took over, and Ian ran to the window, which overlooked the car park, which, he soon saw, was full of flashing blue lights.

“Oh bollocks,” he said. 


I have no idea what's going on here, 'cos... beer.  Help a drunken bastard out?

Futuristic Skies / Re: Apocolypto (WT)
« Last post by newchinaren on September 17, 2019, 04:48:03 PM »
Poll is finally up peeps!  Vote away!

Mmmm, deja vu.
Fiction Park / Re: The Other One.
« Last post by newchinaren on September 17, 2019, 04:42:09 PM »
Poll is finally up peeps!  Vote away!
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