IronPanther, The Novelist

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3/27/2017 7:10 PM

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Sovereign Warden



Tueri et vigilate.

Wandering through distant galaxies.

Still working on The Planetary Exploration Society. Busy with real life. Aiming to have a preview of v2.1 up by the end of March.


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Dr. Figar's Lessons on Job Employment

Travel to the edge of madness in an unreasonable educational class on job employment, as hosted by the mildly insane, usually unethical, and generally not-so-helpful Dr. Snarg Figarnargadarg. Learn at your own risk. Getting employed and making money is not guaranteed. No refunds given for time spent.

Articles Written

CYS Website Guidelines
CYS is a pretty relaxed place to visit, with a wide range of personalities, and that's something the community prides itself in. We're not an uncivilized bunch and do hold ourselves to a reasonable standard.

Recent Posts

February Flash Fiction Contest Results on 3/8/2017 10:39:24 PM

Nice, congrats to both Romulus and Berka! 

This had an amazing turnout and it was great we got so many entries. As usual I had a fun time reading through everything. I enjoyed seeing all the different approaches people took within the tight word count.

General Introduction - (Couldn't do this before) on 3/2/2017 11:18:12 PM

Glad to see you made your way over here and are able to access the forums on mobile now!

EndMaster’s Edgelord Contest on 3/2/2017 4:50:11 PM

Honestly I had a tough time defining edgy. That's probably why mine had everything ranging from a "screamo community band" to poetry at the end, with a bunch of predictable nonsense along the way. It had some variation, but was too busy.

Roughly, I view edgy as breaking the norms of society, sometimes for the sake of it and without reason other than to appear "edgy" to others. It doesn't actually have to be violent or disturbing, but that's the most straightforward way to approach it.

EndMaster’s Edgelord Contest on 3/2/2017 2:16:53 PM

This contest was a creative idea, thanks for hosting it and taking the time to do the edgy mini-reviews for everybody. As anyone who's talked with me knows, I'm probably one of the least edgy people on the site. I do have a sense of humor at least. So of course I had to dive in and give it a try, because it looked like too much fun to sit out for.

I did actually read through all of the stories. Congrats to Breezy for failing the least on this one. Mizal's was probably my favorite of the bunch since I'm a sucker for sci-fi, aside from EndMaster's posts.

The Weekly Review - Edition 35 on 3/1/2017 1:34:58 AM

Even though I don't post much, I do read the newsletters and enjoy your short stories.

[SITE] Let me paste! on 2/28/2017 4:06:34 PM

If you're using a keyboard, then holding ctrl + v is an easy way to paste things. And ctrl + c for copying.

[Site] Lists on 2/28/2017 12:17:29 AM

This is a fair response. It wouldn't be too hard to keep something updated this way and it could still be a community collaborative effort for those interested.

[Site] Lists on 2/28/2017 12:09:52 AM

I believe reference articles would work, unless the ability to pin a post could be added. Then it'd just fill the same role as the article, but may be easier to reference for forum regulars. 

For the article route, we might want a central "hub" article to handle all of the base level traffic. You want to direct people to one spot so everyone can easily link to it, then have enough information from there to branch outward and make it easy to find content. It'd probably make sense to spread out the lists, depending how many links/threads/etc are involved, into a couple articles. You'd also want to use a similar naming format for all of them, so people randomly searching the Help & Info section can see it's all related.

[Site] Lists on 2/28/2017 12:00:11 AM

This is a good thought. If you have an assigned moderator handle it, then it wouldn't need to be added to an admin's plate. Although the article(s) likely wouldn't need to be updated too often once it's actually set up and a full collection of posts is gathered.

EndMaster’s Edgelord Contest on 2/27/2017 5:34:11 PM

Edgelords Anonymous

Within a dimly lit cellar, the local gang (and screamo community band) Mega Dark Fear Chaos Syndicate arrived. It comprised of thugs, political aspirants, awkward teenagers, and a few elderly folks liberated from the dementia ward a few blocks away. Part of the group was wearing black leather trench coats, aviator sunglasses, skull chain necklaces, and fingerless gloves, all while threatening to cut each other for their poor tastes in style. Others just came naked, since putting on clothes was such a bother and seemed optional anyway.

In the room were a number of rickety metal fold-out chairs that formed a half-circle, after the more comfortable seating was abolished following last week's referendum. This was due to the unanimous agreement that avoiding chronic hemorrhoids was a vice of humanity. Voting itself was comprised of flinging manure obtained from the local petting zoo into vagina piercings, and calling each other highly inspired insults such as "u r da little ass dick fuck face" and "nu ur fat bitch cunt whore".

The final tally was gathered once someone ran out of the room sobbing incoherently, all while trying to snuff cocaine they stole from their recently departed fifth ex-wife's back left pocket, as the body was laying in a casket during the funeral procession. They swore they'd get their revenge by smothering everyone in their sleep with a plate of delicious GHB-laced double dark chocolate brownies, while using their other hand to fap to "Blinded by Fear" on loop.

The place was filled with the usual smell of aged haggis, diesel fuel, angst, and rose perfume. All of the newly acquired chairs were centered around an obnoxiously lavish rococo podium. Upon it stood local legend and licensed group therapist Dr. Jeff. His claim to fame was finding the cure to being dead was as simple as drinking his specially formulated vitamin enriched glacial melt mineral water, and not letting yourself get shot in the back by calling him a two-bit fraud. 

Dr. Jeff greeted those entering with his usual jolly, "shut the fuck up and sit down you ignorant little shits." 

A few of them sluggishly took their seats. The rest were setting up a meth dispensary and lacerating themselves in the back of the room, vaguely listening. Pleased that at least a few could follow instructions without needing to put up the gallows and penetrate someone's mother again, he continued. 

"My assistant Mr. Bernsy is joining me for this therapy session."

He motioned to a hulking masked figure in one corner wearing an untied bright pink bathrobe, a lilac necktie, fuzzy slippers, and was wielding a pair of brass knuckles. His birthday suit was especially impressive underneath. Nobody with their spine or cervix in tact ever seemed to question his attire.

"As usual he won't be speaking much, but will menacingly pace while giving you judgmental looks from the corner, in a futile attempt to make you all feel bad about yourselves. As you should, because you're all insufferably disgusting socially rejected nihilistic schizophrenic druggies, otherwise you would know better than to believe a word I say. I'm a doctor, so you can rely on my expert opinion."

An elderly looking man from the ward hesitantly lifted his hand.

"Can I ask a que-"

"No! You will not speak until I say it's your turn, you discarded half-witted lethargic spineless wilting crop of adultery from a disease-ridden skimpy-clawed scum-sucking whoremongering crayfish with a spastic flaccid dysfunction."

He slowly put down his hand and pulled out his favorite brown bottle of liquid medicinal optimism. After which he instantly relaxed with a dumbfounded smile on his face, like a newborn getting to stroke the womb while getting drunk sipping amniotic fluid following the mother's consumption of a keg of 170 proof vodka with breakfast. To this day, nobody knows whether he really has dementia or he just keeps his blood alcohol intake above .20 while taking a handful of cids each morning.

"As we do every week, let's begin with introductions starting from my left and ending with the rightmost person who isn't already dead from overdose, suicide, being shot in the back, or recurring stupidity yet."

A teenage girl spoke up from one side, displeased that she had to start things off. "Hi I'm Betty. Nobody understands me, you're wasting my time, and I hope you all die in a vat of boiling battery acid."

This was followed by the best dressed man in the room, which wasn't saying much, wearing a pressed suit, a stripped bow tie, and meticulously shined shoes. "I'm mayoral candidate Peter J. Kanman. Make sure to vote for me in next month's election, to ensure everyone continues to receive contributions towards their healthy pharmaceutical utilization!"

A few groans could be heard from behind.

Next was the old man, now intoxicated and high, who tried asking the earlier question. "Greetings comrades, Dave has returned. I think your colon is looking especially nice today. It'd be a shame if something happened to it."

Then came a middle aged women, who was stripped naked and had blonde pigtails as a heartfelt attempt to relive her happy childhood memories. One of her fondest was when she waterboarded both of her impaled parents after amputating their legs, so they'd get her a piece of candy from the out-of-reach cupboard. Sadly she didn't think that one through very well and never got the candy afterward. "Hey there, my name is Kelly. Your going to just adore all of the horrible news I have this time!"

Multiple people gasped, realizing that someone had made such a common grammatical mistake, ignoring any leap in logic that phonetically it sounded pretty much the same either way since none of it was actually written.

Dr. Jeff looked over to his assistant, "Mr. Bernsy? You know what to do."

The man from the corner walked over and grabbed Kelly by the throat, drug her out into the street and shot her. After he returned, they continued.

"Hello everyone, my name is Jonathan. Since my wife Kelly is dead now, everyone is welcome to come over and wish her a happy deathday, then we'll hold hands and incinerate the body. There'll be cake and a beheading. Bring your friends if you want. Especially the ones you don't like."

Last was a small man in a ski mask. He was seemingly the only one wearing gloves that still had the fingers in tact. "If I tell you my name, I'll have to take you home for dinner. It's family tradition. I still can't cook, so fuck you."

With another round of successful introductions out of the way, they continued with the meeting.

"Fantastic. I'm glad you could all make it this week, without drowning in your own miserable self-absorbed pompously meager bubbles where every damn snowflake is a factitious miracle of your futilely emboldened depravity."

Dr. Jeff paused to smile at everybody, while giving a big thumbs up sign.

"Onto announcements. Let us take a moment of silence to remember poor Archaball, who was an inspiration for us all. May he rest in piece, and we can only hope they find all of the other pieces of his body too."

Silence briefly filled the room, other than the dispensary, someone whispering profanities at the wall, and the sounds of dying songbirds coming from outside the window.

"The confederate flags can be picked up next week after we get them all back from the dry cleaners. There was a short delay after the owner refused to do business with us and mysteriously disappeared a few days ago. Thankfully the new owner seems delighted to dry clean absolutely anything we request, with enough positive encouragement."

"Last month's picnic, hosted by everybody's favorite blue imperial wizard, was a rousing success. There were only five deaths and two suicides, which is a record low for one of our annual joint get-togethers. If you need any bleach for your white sheets or to simply have as a mixer for the evening refreshments, just let Mr. Bernsy know after the meeting."

"Whoever has the black 2003 Lancer Evo with the lowered suspension, tinted windows, and tasteless gaudy rims. You left your lights on. So we went ahead and bashed them out with a baseball bat, because we were concerned your car battery was going to die like the rest of your family. We'd also like to thank you for your generous gift of the 12 inch dual voice coil subwoofer."

"Regrettably the Hitler photo signing and the swastika speed painting tournament will be delayed once again. I know, don't give me that look. The event was moved to a different location. Please try not to deface the town hall while there's still witnesses next time."

"Complimentary hoods and knives are now available next to the body bag dispenser on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mandatory charitable donations will now be collected every other Saturday."

"Now, let's recite the Prayer of Sanctification."

Everyone stood up and bowed their heads.

"I will stop being an edgy person."

"I promise to do a good deed."

"And to always tell the truth."

"If I feel like it."

"So probably not."

"You're still going to burn."

"Because I hate all of you."


He pulled a few papers out of the podium and randomly shuffled them around, without actually reading them.

"As you know, our goal here at Edgelords Anonymous is to help our members recuperate from the bane of humanity: every damn person but yourself. The healing process towards becoming productive members of society is a long and difficult pathway, especially if you're missing some of your limbs and being pressured by a subtle yet boldly manipulating fascist cult that's trying to manage every facet of your life under the guise of therapeutic benefit because you're all a bunch of uneducated naive crock guzzling excrement snorting diminutive shits that don't know better while nodding in agreement due to not actually listening to a word I say past the first four words. You're all wonderful people."

Dr. Jeff cleared his throat, before continuing.

"Onto this week's lesson: how to stop randomly killing strangers on the street because you think they vaguely looked your way with an unintentionally implied evil glance. A look that'd probably seem like a friendly smile to anybody with a brain that was not in a vegetative state. We know which category you all fall under."

"As you know, vegetables are incredibly important for your health and mind. Vegan. Vitamins. Omega-3. Gluten-free. Certified. Probiotics. No sugar added. Free-Range. Organic. Multigrain. All of that sounds good for you, so everything else I say must be good for you too. As a result of a healthy and balanced diet, sometimes we'll get the justifiably false impression that everybody is out to get us. Which they are, of course, but we can't easily prove that yet."

"Instinctively genocide seems like a fast and easy way to slaughter the heretics after eating a balanced meal, but this tends to draw too much attention. It would also make it more difficult to write off the ammunition and the recently completed pit of death on our upcoming tax return since we're a non-profit group."

"Getting back to the main topic, there's a number of ways to stop randomly killing strangers on the street. The first and easiest method is to wear a ski mask and/or sun glasses, to make it more difficult to blindly assume where others are staring at, as one of our regulars does already. Though I believe he actually is blind, so that probably doesn't count."

The small man in the ski mask casually flipped off Dr. Jeff, before crossing his arms again, allowing him to continue.

"Since doing that doesn't always prevent the accidental immediate death of an innocent bystander, the second method is simply leaving your machete latched in its sheath. Yes, I realize we've made the highly stylish latchless weapon sheath part of our standardized casual apparel for over eight years now, especially since it's useful for suspiciously lurking in dark alleyways while finding people to drug and spread the miracle of life to." 

"However for the sake of self-growth, it's time for us to change our old ways by adding a latch. This should delay one's action just long enough to see if it's worth reconsidering the warranted mutilation of those who weren't actually paying any attention to us in the first place."

"The third factor we need to consider is the randomness of it all. Killing someone by chance of a scornful look can feel a little tasteless at times. We're all working hard to be upstanding role models for your fellow simple-minded peasants and to move on from our edgy ways, so it's important to put more thought into it. As such, we will now be offering a pair of dice to each member; one black and one red.

"Everyone is welcome to decide which dice to use, a non-random choice entirely of their own accord, and then leave it up to a roll of that thoughtfully chosen dice to pick whether they'll senselessly disembowel them, remove a few expendable appendages, or chastise their children. And if they don't have any children to chastise, it's quick and easy to make more to save for moments like this. You can of course remove other things or even taste their lower extremities too; those are just a few simple suggestions."

"In closing, we'll end with an inspirational poem. Mr. Bernsy?"

Everyone in the room quickly hushed as the name was spoken. The man in the corner, not moving from his spot and shaded by the darkness the low lighting provided, started speaking softly.

Through the world we spread malcontent.
Fist raised toward the burning night sky.
To the ashes all must be sent.

Why do I need to pay my rent?
I'm sure my blade can clarify.
Through the world we spread malcontent.

I don't really like your accent.
Your vocal cord is gone, don't cry.
To the ashes all must be sent.

Why hold such a stupid event?
At least your screams help gratify.
Through the world we spread malcontent.

You picked out an ugly tent.
Try again, but without that eye.
To the ashes all must be sent.

Those pure souls scattered we resent.
While wearing a lilac necktie.
Through the world we spread malcontent.
To the ashes all must be sent.

"Beautiful as always, Mr. Bernsy. You have such a way with words, like being lanced in the heart with a symphony of immortal affliction coming from the cries of toddlers suffocating on rainbow lollipops forged from the tears of crippled orphaned kittens who were forced to eat the bodies of their recently deceased owners who raped them while listening to soviet communist music in the ditch of a waste processing plant." 

"And with that, we conclude this week's session. See you all next week! As always, if you need me, you can find me on my tallest of horses atop the ivory tower downtown."