Fremitus Resistance

I’ve been getting requests lately to tell more about the story I wrote for the LARP challenge on King of the Nerds, so I’m going to do that!

First off though, I wrote the majority of the story/did the world building, but Jack, Nicole and MK had significant impacts on their own characters of course. With that said, and the acknowledgement that I might get some of the minor details about other people’s characters wrong, I’d love to share about the world I came up with! Also, if I got any of the Latin correct, I’d be shocked–I don’t speak it, but as Brandon said on season 1, Latin sounds cool.

Based on the classes we had to LARP, it set itself up for a world with musical undercurrents. We spent some time brainstorming, decided on some kind of dystopian and I started spit balling the ideas that became the actual story. Jack decided someone needed to die and I was cool with that. Nicole came up with the idea of her character actually being the real villain, which was cool and we all loved.

Sound became the theme, both literal (Spell Singers, Bards and my rather loud and aggressive warrior) and less literally by means of rebellion. Let’s start with the cast!


Magnus a Warrior of the Fremitus Resistance, played by Zack/Myself
A member of the untouchable Clamore, he lost his father to the Eodem Sono and joined the Fremitus to fight for freedom and individuality in Melodia. Improving his skill with the sword, he worked his way up through the ranks of the Fremitus to become one of their top fighters and will stop at nothing to see Melodia restored and the Eodem Sono destroyed. In protest to the “One Sound” government he aims to disestablish, he always speaks strong and loud.

Lady Aria a dubious Bard with a tragic past, played by Nicole
She grew up in a horrible situation and learned she could control people with her song. She thought that everything would be better were everyone the same–less violence, more understanding. She took control over the Sacre Monje and joined the Fremitus as a double-agent, using her knowledge to keep them a non-threat and ultimately aiming to plot their complete destruction.

Kahlan a Spell Singer of the Cantio, played by Mary Kate
An incredible fighter and master of Spell Singing, Kahlan works with the Fremitus as one of their top fighters. Like Magnus, she wishes to see her world returned to one of many sounds so that she may continue to sing her spells as she likes.

Sacre Monje the leader of the oppressive Eodem Sono, played by Jack
A previously calm, well measured man twisted by Lady Aria. During the Tympanum, he plays steady beats on a drum to remind the populous of his control and their unification under the Eodem Sono.

_________________________The Story and World________________________
(this all comes from a document that I typed up prior to the Nerd War and then distributed to the rest of Midas Touch Attack–This is what I came up with when Nicole asked me to make the story.

The Fremitus Resistance (What you saw in the Nerd War)
Magnus, Lady Aria and Kahlan are members of a resistance fighting against a fantasy dystopian government which has suppressed the individuality and innovation (the very same drive that makes nerds nerds!) in an attempt to maintain control over it’s populous. They call themselves the Fremitus, and aim to overthrow the Eodem Sono. While there are many members of this rebellious movement, three are sent on a mission to try and dispatch the Sacre Monje, the leader of the Eodem Sono. Little do they know that Lady Aria’s Bard spell has put her in control of the Sacre Monje–and now that she has a chance to take on Magnus and Kahlan, two of the most powerful members of the Fremitus, with the help of the Sacre Monje, she aims to quiet the Fremitus once and for all.

Click more for lots and lots more! I don’t want to flood the homepage.

Continue reading

Stompy Story

I wanted to post this because, yes, there was an actual short story (children’s story) in that picture I posted on Facebook. It was written in about two and a half minutes, but I still wanted there to be SOMETHING on the page. I put too much work into these pics…stompywrite

A Projection On Paper Story by Stompy the Triceratops

Once upon a time there were a bunch of dinosaurs running through the Dark Valley in search of the delicious fruit tree. One dinosaur, a triceratops named Stompy, went on ahead to scope out the path. He passed by a tall tree which was in front of a craggy cave. Although it was off the path, Stompy loved adventure, so he took a peek inside the cave’s mouth. Inside, he saw nothing because it was dark. So he left and went back to Toothless the t-rex and the Spike the stegosaurus who he was traveling the Dark Valley with and told them that the way ahead looked safe. Then they went along the path through the valley and found that it widened until they reached the bank of a river. They could see the delicious fruit tree on just the other side! The river was deep and the rapids were fast, and they had no way to cross! Not knowing how to go forward, Spike suggested they just turn back and go home. Toothless agreed that there was no way to cross, but Stompy told them to wait. In the sky, Stompy caught sight of a pterodactyl! He rawred, and the pterodactyl swooped down to meet his new friends. Stompy informed the pterodactyl of their predicament, and he agreed to help by carrying them across to the other side! When they got there, Toothless smashed his tail into the tree and down came the delicious fruit! Stompy shared the fruit with his new pterodactyl friend, and they flew back across the river with his help and went home. But Stompy knew that his next adventure would be to explore that cave…

Nicollet and 11th

I hate you.

In the summer, you are pleasant and peaceful,
but every windy winter day, you transform into a snowy, biological torture test.
You are the reason I have to wear two layers.
In fact, before I reach you, my coat is usually flopped over my left arm, and I probably said something about how wonderful the weather was.
The second I step onto your pavement, I shudder at the sudden chill and am forced to scramble to equip myself properly. I take my hat from my left pocket, fold the brim and pull it over my head. I take my gloves and put them on as my fingers start to turn white. And then I walk. Your unrelenting wind forces me to keep my head down, and I thank the world that I have glasses to keep sharp, stray snowflakes from colliding with my eyes at a wind speed of over fifteen miles per hour. And as I reach the end of the street and cross over to La Salle and S 11 St, your wind drops away and I have warmth once more. And then, it occurs to me, that the reason I am warm now, the drop of skyline over the respite of St. Thomas Universality, is the same reason that I was cold walking here. And I question why I always walk down your hellish route of a wind tunnel. There are so many other streets, all of which more pleasant by which I could reach Hennepin. And yet I keep coming back to you.


A Projection On Paper story revision by Zachary Storch

My father taught me the way of the blade. He said the most important thing to remember was why he taught me. He taught me so I would learn when to use it. He started with wooden sticks that he threw into the air. He showed me how he cut them such that they would split into eight pieces before landing onto the ground. I cut them once only.

The next day my father took me out to the river. He placed his blade into the stream and showed me how his blade cut the water and any leaf or twig that touched the edge of his weapon. I asked him why he did this, and he said it was to show the power and danger of the sword. We slashed at flying sticks again the next day. I cut one twice.

Eventually he taught me to hunt. There were wolves outside of town. I asked him what the wolves had done. He told me that they had pillaged chickens and grain. I took that as moral and a reason to use a sword. Thieves deserved the sword. We exterminated them.

In time it was sticks again. I cut one four times, but it was only a fluke. The rest I could only cut three. Father cut them all eight.

He sparred with me, too. He decided to use live blades. With restraint and precision, he scraped my arm and it bled badly. Father stopped then. When he lowered his blade I cut him back. I expected him to be angry, but he applauded me.

I grew older, and my skill had improved. Six times I cut the sticks. Father only cut them five. He still taught me, though now I knew I was the stronger. I would always learn from him.

Bandits attacked and pillaged town. I decided to go to their camp. Father came with me. I found six bandits, and I cut them all down. Then we encountered a woman. I raised my sword. She held her hands up and cried for me to stop. Father urged me the same, claimed she was innocent, that she was just one of their wives. She drew a small dagger from her belt as he talked. I turned my blade upon my father. I cut him down, then swung back at the woman and she fell with him.

I returned home.


Author’s Note: A revision of Pedagogy. I think this story has potential, but it’s still a little rough. It’s quite a bit better now like this.


A Projection On Paper story/proof I need more sleep/pretty terrible short-short story by Zachary Storch

Reptiles, (iguanas, to be more specific), are the only animal besides humans to play chess. I know this may seem hard to believe given their lack of thumbs and cognitive reasoning skills, but there are some regular reptilian Bobby Fisher’s. A more scaly chess master would not have lost to Deep Blue, and could most certainly best the Turk. It’s quite simple and all demonstrated by the events I saw during an afternoon three months ago. I was in the Caribbean. After finishing a round of golf and consuming extremely overpriced drinks at a local bar, I began the trek back to my hotel. On the way, I came across not one, but two of the aforementioned rock-climbing-quick-sprinting-cold-blooded creatures.

Logically, I set out to capture them.

The reptiles were fast. I dived at one of the two, but all I grabbed were painfully hot pebbles. They ran off, and I pursued. Off into the prickly bushes the four-legged demons ran, seeking to thwart my advance. I refused to give up, not so easily or quickly, even if I was in shorts. I grit my teeth and stomped through the needles, through the bladed foliage. At that my reptilian adversaries knew I had them in a tight spot. We were back on the golf course. One made for an artificially planted tree, and the other took a break towards the warm safety of a nearby sand-trap. Splitting up was a powerful move. I did what I had to. First, I ran and shook the tree with the climbing beast, vigorously so. That sent him tumbling down and sprinting to join his friend, to seek safety in the sand. I rushed over and kicked my foot through the dirt, giving them a start again. Back through the prickly bushes they went. Now, I was certain I had them on the run, that soon they would tire out. I went back through the brush again, legs bleeding, but I pushed onwards. The critters went into the road and still I followed, sure of my victory, when I was struck by a car.

For you see, the villainous masterminds had planned it all along. They may not have thumbs, but an iguana can play the world like a chess game.

Faster 1.0

The first Projection On Paper story, by Zachary Storch

Crash! Another tree hit the ground.

“So, how much do we get for a tree anyway?” said Jeff, newcomer to the logging business.

“Not much,” said logging supervisor Matt. “The big thing is just to clear them; we are paid for getting the job done so that buildings can be built. We have a guy coming here today that said he would be able to help us with that a great deal.”

Later that day, the visitor arrived. He drove up at a frantic pace and stopped just short of Jeff. Immediately after he leapt out of the door of the charcoal colored van, slamming it as he did so. He shouted out in a gruff voice to the other loggers: “I’m here! Everyone gather round! I’ve something amazing to show you, guaranteed to change your jobs and lives forever!” He then quickly ran around to the back of the van and swiftly opened the trunk. He shut it as quickly as it opened. He jogged back around to the front carrying a large case. Continue reading

World of Warcraft Chat Log Story Time

A Projection on Paper… what is this I don’t even

02:54:21 [Jaxxen] why does leveling suck so bad? D:
02:45:33 [Zadck] well
02:54:40 [Zadck] it has to do with your mother, Jaxxen
02:54:50 [Jaxxen] Go on…
02:54:48 [Zadck] it’s a long story filled with dark secrets and untold mystery
02:55:14 [Zadck] it all started when your mother, Beth, met a man named Issac.
02:55:48 [Zadck] What was that? Your mother’s name is not Beth? Of course not, because she changed her name, but I’ll get to that.
02:56:04 [Jaxxen] You’re right, she did change her name.
02:56:10 [Seksibelf] story time with zadck
02:56:12 [Seksibelf] /popcorn
02:56:21 [Zadck] You see, Beth and Issac started a small game company by the name of Level Up Entertainment. Continue reading

The World Ends With You

My favorite video game is probably The World Ends With You. One week ago a remake/port was released on the Iphone and Ipad (Not Ipod unless you hack, and then I hear it’s buggy…)

Last month I had a post about video games as story telling. The story of this game was what resonated with me. It perfectly matches my philosophy: while we can never know another person, we can try, and the only way to explore more of our world is to talk to other people and open up to them. Just because someone’s views are different from yours, it doesn’t mean you have to accept them, but by listening you only gain. The world we have is very small, unless we have other people bringing their individuality and insight into our lives. The game follows an anti-social kid who realizes all of this through all sorts of crazy-ness too insane to actually go into on this blog.

The philosophy in this game is beyond a simple moral. It’s a way to live your life.

If you haven’t played this, play it. The new version is pretty impressive. The message remains the same and just as outstanding as before. There may be another game or some DLC content on the way apparently, but if it’s a sequel it has a lot to live up to, not just gameplay-wise but story and message wise.

Video games as a storytelling medium

A really longtime pet peeve of mine are people who dis video games for being video games. Sure, many have violence, poor representation of women, graphic content, illegal substances ect., but what doesn’t? Many books, music, and movies all have that too! This all easily leads to a question. Why are video games singled out?

Most people answer by saying it’s the interactive element. That can’t be right. When watching a horror movie our hearts race and when we read a sad story we feel the emotions of the characters. Everything is interactive. I think it’s because video games are newer. Eventually, I hope they will be accepted as what they should be, another storytelling medium.

I’m not talking about Pong or (most) other sports games when I say that (Pong is totally a sports game. It’s table tennis! That’s an olympic sport!). But just about every other genre has stories. Shooter games have stories. Action games have stories. Perhaps the largest, most expansive stories are found in Role Playing Games. Most good RPG’s are essentially fantasy novels in another format.

Over at (the homepage for my favorite indie game company) a few weeks ago Artix posted a PDF of a guide for creating game worlds and quests. This is incredibly similar to a guide one would use for writing a story. Why? Because it’s the same idea. What is the goal of the character(s)? What adversity will he or she face? What are their motivations for success? Video games have just as much merit as other storytelling!

And that concludes my rant of what was on my mind.

That Darn Baseball Bat

A silly, nonsensical Projection on Paper story

That darn baseball bat. The one over the mantel. Yeah, the one dad died over and mom lived over.

It was forty years ago when that fire broke out at the baseball emporium downtown. Dad couldn’t really think too straight back then, either. See, there was the fire, and he got stuck. A “baseball player” saved him. Smacked the wood beam he was stuck under clear in half and pulled him to safety. Smacked it with that darn baseball bat. Ten years later, I was born. Dad had kept the bat that had saved his life. The darn one. He had even started a collection of bats. That made us poor. Then it became things that were not baseball bats, but could be used as one. It was a huge collection. I started selling them under his nose; we were broke and needed food. But it didn’t matter how many I sold. Dad never noticed and he just kept buying more and more of them. Mom got sick. She was going to die. I tried to sell the darn one, the darn baseball bat. Now that he noticed. That one sent him into a rage when he saw it was missing.

And his heart broke down.