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JH Sounds

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    OCR Music Video Challenge 4

    in Competitions

    Posted

    Or... some of both!! Personally, I am in favor of anybody willing to dress up in a pirate costume and film themself doing pirate-y things ~_^ But... you do what you like.

    On a related note, my video idea would greatly benefit from having a person in a Mario suit. Just putting that out there. ;-)

    Sale/Want 3.0

    in General Discussion

    Posted · Edited by JH Sounds

    hard drive (any size) [drumultima] (12/10)

    He was actually looking to buy this, not sell it. I'm guessing the other things listed under his name are WANTs rather tham FOR SALEs too.

    EDIT: Oh, and I'm willing to offer my services for story writing, data entry and and/or audio transcription.

    WCT - [COMPETITION OVERHAUL - NEED IDEAS] The Writing Competition Thread

    in Competitions

    Posted

    I just woke up an had an idea for a story. Hopefully I can get at least a rough synopsis down today.

    EDIT: Okay, I managed to get a good chunk of the first act done.

    Kid Zap

    The cool thing about the later years of high school is that the students are mostly grown up, and bullying is therefore nonexistent. This is usually attributed to maturity as students begin to fully realize the moral implications of their actions. It is however more likely to do with the fact that they are too busy worrying about their studies, with what to do with their lives, and in certain cases their significant others. The real world that lies beyond the school doors pushes against the pupils with increasing urgency. Unplanned parenthood can also happen during this period, so some would have to juggle homework with a night shift job as well as caring for a baby. In others scenarios the prospect of college would seem like being thrown into a whirlwind of unknown social and intellectual challenges.

    This is not a story about high school, however. The tale goes slightly further back. This is about junior high.

    More specifically, it is about the Thomas Edison School for Employment Engineering. It was named such because it had classrooms specifically designed to promote and facilitate learning skills for the adult world. In one section a kitchen served as a catering class. A sprawling garage in the sublevel, filled with cars - usually those of the school staff - placed children for study in automotive repair and detailing. One look at the sawdust-lined floor of one particular room would tell you it had something to do with carpentry, and so on. The various spaces ran the gamut of industries and career opportunities that the students could choose from, once they reached a certain age and had gotten the proper consent forms filled out.

    For the youngest students, however, such hands-on experiences were still several months away. The kids could only watch as the older ones applied layers of cake with frosting, tightened bolts on tires or glued the roofs on birdhouses. Being in the presence of such intriguing and wonderful things sparked their interest, and fueled the passions that would eventually become their callings in life.

    Still, some students couldn't be bothered. Despite the large amount of early career paths available, certain kids just weren't interested. For a few, none of it seemed like jobs they could have a burning desire for, or even be good at. Some kids were just too busy thinking about sex or worrying about their rapidly changing bodies.

    For one boy in particular, the disinterest in developing work skills was due to a different reason altogether. He was seen as special, but not in that way that would require an entirely different type of school altogether. This student had what could be called a bleak view of the educational system. The boy was assessed as being troublesome and full of worry, a pessimist. He expressed that the goal of Thomas Edison School was to transform its pupils into mindless drones to fulfill a predetermined purpose. "We are all sheep," he once said, "and this place is where we get ready to be sheared."

    It was quite a profound statement, especially coming out of the mouth of a fourteen year old.

    Kendrick Stevens, the special boy, chose to study his own books during classes. While the others were reading up on American history and math, Kendrick dove face-deep into stories of adventurous journeys. Some students learned about photography while he explored treks printed on hardback. Kendrick admired the idea of finding oneself in the midst of the unyielding forces of nature. He wanted to be free; to be off the grid as it were, to take on the greater world without preconceived planning.

    This was no secret to the students and staff of Tom Ed, as the kids nicknamed the school. Kendrick made this very plain and well known throughout the facility. In fact it was surmised that this impulse to leave was just a result of him being bullied due to his perceived nerdiness. The actuality of his secret was something far stranger than anyone could imagine.

    Like most secrets, vague interpretations and guesses of it spread quickly amongst the children. This led to Kendrick's nickname Zap, something more succinct than his real name, and more to the point of his specialness. Unsurprisingly, he disliked this new name. It brought people closer to knowing the thing that made him unique, and possibly could put him in danger. For the moment though, it was merely a title hollered by the muscular pupils as they teased and hit him.

    "Hey Zap, tell your momma to take care of that lump for ya," yelled the jock tauntingly from the bathroom. Kendrick walked out of it gently cradling the newly-created welt on the back of his head. It hurt badly, but more importantly for the bully the bruise would be highly visible to other students. Kendrick bore a mark that did not go away quickly, and the jock was aware of this fact.

    He sauntered glumly down the hall and heaved a sigh. With his other arm he took a moment to adjust his backpack. The heavy books rustled loosely within. Kendrick liked his novels and other literature, and thus he considered the possible irony of having been thrashed by those books a moment ago. "I want them in my head," he muttered, "not thrown against the back of it."

    "What was that?" asked a quiet, inquiring voice. It came from another student who had rounded the corner unexpectedly. "Er... Were you saying something to me?" She noticed his injured head immediately.

    "No, no. Just talking to myself." Kendrick's blue eyes widened as he caught his reflection in a nearby window. His blonde crew cut did nothing to hide the bruise. He had no hope of covering it up with a hat either, as the school did not allow them in the premises. Like always, his scars were free to the world to see.

    The girl felt the need to say something more. "I... You should really tell somebody about the bullies, Ken." She stepped forward to view the damage closely. "Definitely see the nurse, and report this to someone."

    He brought his attention back to her. Maria's brown eyes peered unwavering at the ghastly welt. Kendrick gazed inquisitively at her long dark hair and randomly wondered if she had a lump or two hidden under there too. "Okay, listen," he spoke with a slow gruffness beyond his years. "I've talked about this before, and there's just no way out of this. I've been beaten up, and I'll continue to be beaten up. Tattle telling just leads to more hurt and pain."

    Maria looked as though she felt some of that pain herself. "I really don't like seeing you like this. If you're not telling anyone, I will." With that, she stormed off to her next class. The faint echo of "I'll see you after poetry studies" could be heard floating behind the sound of her departing footsteps.

    Kendrick found her to be a very unusual girl. As far as he was aware, only Maria appeared to care at all about his well being. Now that he thought about it further, he noted that she was the only student with whom he had an extended conversation with in Tom Ed. Everyone else either taunted him, hurt him or avoided him entirely. He racked his brain wondering why this was so. Was she genuinely trying to be friends with him? Among other things, he wondered if Maria knew his secret. The mental exercise in working out the possibilities eventually irked him. Kendrick didn't care much for puzzles.

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