Perplex City Wiki - User contributions [en]

Tales From Earth

2005-12-05T12:49:59Z

Kobeyu:

==General==

*[[Violet Kiteway]] wants us to write a book for her.
*She plans to have it published by [[Seaside Press]].
*Once it's published, she can use her credentials as a published author to get access to the diary of [[Anthony Granier]]

==Requirements==

*'''Entries should be themed: Games'''
**Let me re-emphasize: '''Entries should be themed: Games'''
**Any game will do, and I believe if a submission is strong enough we can probably look the other way if it doesn't have much to do with any literal games.
*We do not have a given length minimum or maximum on individual entries.
*Entries may be poetry, prose, or most anything else.
*[[Seaside Press]] have said they will allow some illustrations.
**However this is not an art book, bear in mind. Think black-and-white.

==Instructions==

Use this page as an index of other pages.

Please format your page titles thusly:

'''Tales From Earth:Title'''

Add a link on this page your own work, like this:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Title]] - [[User:YourName]] date, length'''
Add a short description of the work here.

So for example, if Sente were to write a piece on his family, he might format it like so:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Kiteway Crazies]] - [[User:Sente]] 28-NOV-05, 5000 words'''
A short treatise on my lunatic daughters, both of whom cavort with strangers.

Also note, people may choose to post articles on some other site (such as a blog) and link to it from here.

--------------------------

==Index of articles==

'''[[Tales From Earth:Tower of Cards]] - [[User:Gibbet]] 04-DEC-05, 1242 words'''
A story of persistence to fulfill a lifelong dream. ''(Feedback will be welcomed)''

'''[[Tales From Earth:ilovenatalie.exe]] - [[User:GasparLewis]] 2-DEC-05, 1300 words and a big pile of numbers'''
William's girlfriend is missing, and somebody planned it.
Can he solve his way to her rescue? Or rather... ''can you?''

'''[[Tales From Earth:Ramblerhymes I and II]] - [[User:GasparLewis]] 29-NOV-05, 1000+ words'''
A free-form, semi-poignant tirade about nothing... in a good way.

'''[[Tales From Earth: The night]] - [[User:Specterz]] 29-NOV-05, 500 words'''
A little rant about nights on Earth.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Coffee Addiction]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1081 words'''
A NON_AUTOBIOGRAHPICAL story about a man who loves coffee.

'''[[Tales From Earth:peta]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1225 words'''
A story in which a monkey gives relationship advice which is unwelcome

'''[[Tales From Earth:Expedition]] - [[User:Forg]] 29-NOV-05, 1290 words'''
Another day comes, another day goes...

'''[[Tales From Earth:Reality? Virtually!]] - [[User:Sentinel]] 28-NOV-05, 2581 words'''
A discussion of the ever blurring boundaries between reality and the world of gaming.

'''[[Tales From Earth:The Assignment]] - [[User:Enigmaster]] 29-NOV-05, 1337 words (:D)'''
A short story, illustrating one of the many pressures of student life.

'''[[Tales From Earth:The London 2012 Olympic Bid]] - [[User:Frankie Roberto]] 3-DEC-05, 1000 words'''
An article on London's successful 2012 Olympic Bid.
''(comments, feedback and proof-reading welcome)''

'''[http://forums.unfiction.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=13305 Tales From Earth:Collaborative Effort] - The Unfiction Community'''
''(A work in progress)'' This story is being written and assembled by a volunteer collection of forumers.
A proper title is to be deteremined.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Games-Sports-Ultimate Frisbee]] - [[User:kobeyu]] and ??? 01-DEC-05, 614 words'''
''(Abandoned -- feel free to finish it)'' ''(A work in progress)'' A description of one of Earth's newer sports.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Perplex City D20 Module]] - [[User:Scott]] 01-DEC-05, 0 words'''
''(A work in progress)'' A role playing game module based in Perplex City.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Where's My Meniscus and other time wasters]] - [[User:TheBozzball]] 02-DEC-05, 0 words'''
''(A work in progress)'' A short tale about a group of people who like to invent games

'''[[Tales From Earth:Tuberunning]] - [[User:ammonite]] 03-DEC-05, 866 words'''
London is a game. In many ways. This is about a few of them.

Tales From Earth

2005-12-01T15:23:01Z

Kobeyu:

==Instructions==

Use this page as an index of other pages.

Please format your page titles thusly:

'''Tales From Earth:Title'''

Add a link on this page your own work, like this:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Title]] - [[User:YourName]] date, length'''
Add a short description of the work here.

So for example, if Sente were to write a piece on his family, he might format it like so:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Kiteway Crazies]] - [[User:Sente]] 28-NOV-05, 5000 words'''
A short treatise on my lunatic daughters, both of whom cavort with strangers.

Also note, people may choose to post articles on some other site (such as a blog) and link to it from here.

--------------------------

==Index of articles==

'''[[Tales From Earth:The Assignment]] - [[User:Enigmaster]] 29-NOV-05, 1337 words (:D)'''
A short story, illustrating one of the many pressures of student life.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Ramblerhymes I and II]] - [[User:GasparLewis]] 29-NOV-05, 1000+ words'''
A free-form, semi-poignant tirade about nothing... in a good way.

'''[[Tales From Earth: The night]] - [[User:Specterz]] 29-NOV-05, 500 words'''
A little rant about nights on Earth.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Coffee Addiction]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1081 words'''
A NON_AUTOBIOGRAHPICAL story about a man who loves coffee.

'''[[Tales From Earth:peta]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1225 words'''
A story in which a monkey gives relationship advice which is unwelcome

'''[[Tales From Earth:Expedition]] - [[User:Forg]] 29-NOV-05, 1290 words'''
Another day comes, another day goes...

'''[[Tales From Earth:Reality? Virtually!]] - [[User:Sentinel]] 28-NOV-05 2581 words'''
A discussion of the ever blurring boundaries between reality and the world of gaming.

'''[[Tales From Earth:The Politics of Power]] - [[User:Frankie Roberto]] 30-NOV-05 0 words'''
An essay on the different methods of energy-generation used on Earth, and the politics behind them.
(Work in Progress)

'''[http://forums.unfiction.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=13305 Tales From Earth:Collaborative Effort (title to be determined)] - The Unfiction Community'''
This story is being written and assembled by a volunteer collection of forumers.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Games-Sports-Ultimate Frisbee]] - [[User:kobeyu]] 01-DEC-05 614 words'''
A description of one of Earth's newer sports. Not Finished.

'''[[Tales From Earth: This Danish Royal Guy]] - [[User:TheBozzball]] 01-DEC-05 0 words'''
This totally, like, unbelievable story about this danish royal guy, right? His pop (who happens, check this out, to be the king)
snuffs it, and he goes wack and just, like, basically, massacres like so many people.

Tales From Earth:Games-Sports-Ultimate Frisbee

2005-12-01T15:22:29Z

Kobeyu:

''Across the sunny field James saw the opposing team reform themselves on their line. His team reshuffled themselves in response and he held high the plastic disc. The opposing captain raised his hand, and James put his shoulders, forearm and wrist into flinging the disc as hard as he could at them. In the same beat, he started sprinting after it.''

Earth has a lot of sports, games which test the physical fitness and skill of the players as well as their teamwork and mental abilities. These sporting events are much more popular than the purely mental events, such as Chess or Go. One such sport is described here, in the hope that Perplexians will appreciate why we like to watch and play sports on Earth.

Ultimate Frisbee (or just 'Ultimate', if you want to avoid nasty trademark issues), was born out of New Jersey, around 1968. It involves two teams of seven players, a pitch which is about 110x37 metres, and a small, usually 175 gram, plastic flying disc. Each team scores points by completing a pass into the opponents' endzone. Players may only move one of their feet whilst they hold the disc, thus only allowing them to pivot on one foot.

Play begins by the defending team 'Huck'ing the disc to the opposing team. The farther they throw it, the farther the opposing team has to get it back to the endzone. Players usually mark each other one-on-one. By far the most common offensive strategy is to set up a 'stack' of players extending down the pitch, between the player with the disc and the opposing endzone, facing the disc. Players can then sprint sideways, forwards or backwards to try and lose their mark and successfully receive a throw, turn and pass the disc back to someone further back in the stack. When executed properly, this manouevre looks elegant and gets the disc a long way towards its goal with minimal interference from the other team.

The most common defensive play is to try to push the attacking team against the sidelines, by means of a 'force'. When a player has the disc, his mark will be very near him -- a little more than a disc-width away, trying to prevent him releasing a good throw. However, unless the defending player is three times larger than the handler (an uncommon trait on Earth), he cannot block the player on all sides. He will usually allow the player to throw backwards freely. With no force, the defender will stand straight in front of the handler. If there is a force to one side of the pitch or the other, then the defender stands on the other side, trying to force the handler to throw the disc forwards, but towards the chosen sideline. Because throwing from the sideline is much harder, the offense will hopefully eventually make a mistake.

When the disc touches the ground, or is caught by a player with both feet out of bounds, then it is a turnover, and the two sides switch offense/defence roles.

Ultimate is unique amongst Earth sports because it is unrefereed. There is a high degree of sportsmanship, and it is common for players to admit their own fouls, greet and chat to their mark whilst playing and sit and have a friendly chat after the game is finished. The players are more interested in having fun than winning (although winning is still important). When a game is over, the two teams will often sit in a circle and discuss the game, complimenting players on heroic or skillful plays, and suggesting ways they might improve; they will often play silly mini-games at this point too.

Tales From Earth

2005-12-01T09:51:49Z

Kobeyu:

==Instructions==

Use this page as an index of other pages.

Please format your page titles thusly:

'''Tales From Earth:Title'''

Add a link on this page your own work, like this:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Title]] - [[User:YourName]] date, length'''
Add a short description of the work here.

So for example, if Sente were to write a piece on his family, he might format it like so:

'''[[Tales From Earth:Kiteway Crazies]] - [[User:Sente]] 28-NOV-05, 5000 words'''
A short treatise on my lunatic daughters, both of whom cavort with strangers.

Also note, people may choose to post articles on some other site (such as a blog) and link to it from here.

--------------------------

==Index of articles==

'''[[Tales From Earth:The Assignment]] - [[User:Enigmaster]] 29-NOV-05, 1337 words (:D)'''
A short story, illustrating one of the many pressures of student life.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Ramblerhymes I and II]] - [[User:GasparLewis]] 29-NOV-05, 1000+ words'''
A free-form, semi-poignant tirade about nothing... in a good way.

'''[[Tales From Earth: The night]] - [[User:Specterz]] 29-NOV-05, 500 words'''
A little rant about nights on Earth.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Coffee Addiction]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1081 words'''
A NON_AUTOBIOGRAHPICAL story about a man who loves coffee.

'''[[Tales From Earth:peta]] - [[User:Coxtin]] 29-NOV-05, 1225 words'''
A story in which a monkey gives relationship advice which is unwelcome

'''[[Tales From Earth:Expedition]] - [[User:Forg]] 29-NOV-05, 1290 words'''
Another day comes, another day goes...

'''[[Tales From Earth:Reality? Virtually!]] - [[User:Sentinel]] 28-NOV-05 2581 words'''
A discussion of the ever blurring boundaries between reality and the world of gaming.

'''[[Tales From Earth:The Politics of Power]] - [[User:Frankie Roberto]] 30-NOV-05 0 words'''
An essay on the different methods of energy-generation used on Earth, and the politics behind them.
(Work in Progress)

'''[http://forums.unfiction.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=13305 Tales From Earth:Collaborative Effort (title to be determined)] - The Unfiction Community'''
This story is being written and assembled by a volunteer collection of forumers.

'''[[Tales From Earth:Games-Sports-Ultimate Frisbee]] - [[User:kobeyu]] 01-DEC-05 0 words'''
A description of one of Earth's newer sports.

Tales From Earth

2005-11-29T17:24:45Z

Kobeyu:

Tales From Earth:Expedition

2005-11-29T17:22:56Z

Kobeyu: Tales From Earth:Expidition moved to Tales From Earth:Expedition

The Expedition

The small gap in the curtain gave the sun chance to introduce itself to the world. It crept in to the tiny room, bringing it to life. Now it was my turn. The sound of the alarm indicated another day, a sound I dreaded the most. It just seems to repetitive, get up, drag myself to the shower, zombie like drag myself back, and then continue to prepare for another day at that dreaded place. School.

Music swam through my room; I was so much more awake now, with a little Jimmy Eat World ringing through my ears. As I threw my jumper on, I stood in front of the window, my empty reflection stared back. "Here we go again Maz," I sighed once more, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the next step of the preparation stage.

As usual I was greeted by darkness, I pulled the curtain back and turned the light on, "Much better," I thought aloud. Time sneaked up on me and it was soon time to make my way out into the long journey.

The journey, the worst part, but also the best part, no homely worries surrounding me and no school paranoia lingering. Yes, the best part had to be the journey.

The ground wore a coat of frost, and the wind pierced through me, sending a shiver down my spine, a definite English winter! The sun had gone; it hid behind a black painted piece of cotton wool. Few cars were on the road, their headlights illuminating the way, spot lighting me as I slumped down the near busy roads. The smell of fumes polluted the air, together with the morning smell, the kind that refreshes the air, however doesn't help with the fact there was another 6 hours to spend away from home.

50 minutes later I was there.

I walked up to the meeting place; everyone was laughing already, the same people in their place. The lonesome boy next to the buildings, staring down the path, desperate for someone he knew to come and join him. Someone I knew but didn't acknowledge me, standing in the car park with her friends, chatting. The cricket players playing with a tennis ball, cheering as one of them screamed "OUT!" Why was it so noisy? It was 8:15 in the morning! A wave of dread sprinted through me, I froze in the yard, and there was the huge group I was part of, raucous laughter emulating from it. But today I stood away from them, and looked around. It's amazing the different groups. You have the 'stuck up' girls, wearing the shortest shirts and the tightest trousers known to the human race. Then there was the 'who cares' girls, who sat talking of smoking and drugs. They glared at the 'grebs', their rivals; smart but not obviously smart and didn't care about what anyone thought. They were joined by the girls who worked, but weren't geeks, now they were glared at by their rivals; 'the hard boys,' you know the type, trousers tucked in their socks, mo-ped helmets on show as if it were a trophy. In just one yard, so many groups, but that's what I hated the most; the tension as one group past another, 'you could cut it with a knife,' the sound of the bell yanked me out of my thoughts at this point.

Time for registration.

All through it I worried about the day ahead; lessons I had, never feeling noticed at dinner, and as time went on I began to dread it even more, I longed to be at home, but all too soon was it time to go to first lesson. English.

The alienated smell suffocated me as I dragged myself into another hour of inner torment. Laughter hugged the air, as conversations between friends sparked. Frozen. 'The higher authority' sauntered in, immediately, the once empty space sank into silence and lifeless expressions rose upon the faces of the inmates. You could always tell another lesson had begun by those dead expressions. Every lesson was the same, you had the robot-like students on auto-pilot, looking straight forward as if hypnotised, or on some form of public transport! To think, I had another 5 lessons of this.

When dinner landed, after four gruelling hours' lessons, I was totally exhausted. Time seemed to go so slowly over the 40 minute period. One person sat on the small wall; I knew that was soon to change. I sat near her, the usual start of a conversation, "Hi, how are you?" (Always a good starting point in my opinion). The air was still fresh from the morning smell, although specks of evidence suggested it was fading. The worst part of the day, it was loud, too loud. The little years screeched, arguments flared and the slap of the soles rang out as they sped around a compact space. It seemed rather like a prison, or a chicken pen. As I sat and watched the world from my step, the one person group soon developed into a ten person group, that's when it starts. The real torture of this expedition, as more and more friends appeared, the more I distanced myself. They seemed to spring out of thin air! I sat on the step, just watching and occasionally listening, being stepped over as I sat in a planet other than this one, staring out to the field. It seemed like such an empty world, like when you look out to sea, endless blue, this was like an endless green, completely empty, almost deserted. Compared to the chicken pen I was sat in, it seemed like heaven!

Then the migration happened, a swarm of students all heading for one place. Slowly, I joined the stampede, ready for another hour of clock watching.

Even though it was the same journey, just backwards, it didn't feel the same, there was more of a "used" and "old" smell about, and more cars on the road, so much noise in such a small space. But I made me way over to my world.

A place by the canal.

It was quieter, the kind quiet you get in the early hours of the morning, with the odd bird singing. Everything just seemed so different, I didn't feel so alone; no one could hurt me here. I sat and watched the water for awhile, I could feel no cold, it was like I was in a bubble; until time silently jolted me back to Earth. I sighed, "Better go then," and once again I dragged myself along the straight, tedious road.

As I walked into the room, a blast of cold air hit me, that melted me like chocolate in a pan, "Mum must have gone out," I thought, "Looks like I had the house to myself again," I went straight to where I had started from, my room.

At last, a common smell overthrew what seemed like an ever-lasting unfamiliarity, which had glued itself to me, refusing to let go. I was safe. Security jerked over me, a smile crept up. Privacy was mine; locked in a world of peace and tranquillity of which only I knew. Imaginary guard dogs waiting to pounce on anyone who dared intrude this world of peace. That's what this was to me, my own imaginary world of peace, and I was not prepared to give it up for anyone. At last I was where I wanted to be, where everything seemed so much easier, and nothing seemed impossible, tools of release sat patiently if I needed them, and after another expedition I sighed with relief, only to think:
"I'll have to go through it all again tomorrow."

Tales From Earth

2005-11-29T17:22:26Z

Kobeyu:

Tales From Earth:Expedition

2005-11-29T17:17:16Z

Kobeyu:

Tales From Earth:Expedition

2005-11-29T17:16:27Z

Kobeyu:

The Expedition

The small gap in the curtain gave the sun chance to introduce itself to the world. It crept in to the tiny room, bringing it to life. Now it was my turn. The sound of the alarm indicated another day, a sound I dreaded the most. It just seems to repetitive, get up, drag myself to the shower, zombie like drag myself back, and then continue to prepare for another day at that dreaded place. School.

Music swam through my room; I was so much more awake now, with a little Jimmy Eat World ringing through my ears. As I threw my jumper on, I stood in front of the window, my empty reflection stared back. "Here we go again Maz," I sighed once more, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the next step of the preparation stage.

As usual I was greeted by darkness, I pulled the curtain back and turned the light on, "Much better," I thought aloud. Time sneaked up on me and it was soon time to make my way out into the long journey.

The journey, the worst part, but also the best part, no homely worries surrounding me and no school paranoia lingering. Yes, the best part had to be the journey.

The ground wore a coat of frost, and the wind pierced through me, sending a shiver down my spine, a definite English winter! The sun had gone; it hid behind a black painted piece of cotton wool. Few cars were on the road, their headlights illuminating the way, spot lighting me as I slumped down the near busy roads. The smell of fumes polluted the air, together with the morning smell, the kind that refreshes the air, however doesn't help with the fact there was another 6 hours to spend away from home.

50 minutes later I was there.

I walked up to the meeting place; everyone was laughing already, the same people in their place. The lonesome boy next to the buildings, staring down the path, desperate for someone he knew to come and join him. Someone I knew but didn't acknowledge me, standing in the car park with her friends, chatting. The cricket players playing with a tennis ball, cheering as one of them screamed "OUT!" Why was it so noisy? It was 8:15 in the morning! A wave of dread sprinted through me, I froze in the yard, and there was the huge group I was part of, raucous laughter emulating from it. But today I stood away from them, and looked around. It's amazing the different groups. You have the stuck up' girls, wearing the shortest shirts and the tightest trousers known to the human race. Then there was the who cares' girls, who sat talking of smoking and drugs. They glared at the grebs', their rivals; smart but not obviously smart and didn't care about what anyone thought. They were joined by the girls who worked, but weren't geeks, now they were glared at by their rivals; the hard boys,' you know the type, trousers tucked in their socks, mo-ped helmets on show as if it were a trophy. In just one yard, so many groups, but that's what I hated the most; the tension as one group past another, you could cut it with a knife,' the sound of the bell yanked me out of my thoughts at this point.

Time for registration.

All through it I worried about the day ahead; lessons I had, never feeling noticed at dinner, and as time went on I began to dread it even more, I longed to be at home, but all too soon was it time to go to first lesson. English.

The alienated smell suffocated me as I dragged myself into another hour of inner torment. Laughter hugged the air, as conversations between friends sparked. Frozen. The higher authority' sauntered in, immediately, the once empty space sank into silence and lifeless expressions rose upon the faces of the inmates. You could always tell another lesson had begun by those dead expressions. Every lesson was the same, you had the robot-like students on auto-pilot, looking straight forward as if hypnotised, or on some form of public transport! To think, I had another 5 lessons of this.

When dinner landed, after four gruelling hours' lessons, I was totally exhausted. Time seemed to go so slowly over the 40 minute period. One person sat on the small wall; I knew that was soon to change. I sat near her, the usual start of a conversation, "Hi, how are you?" (Always a good starting point in my opinion). The air was still fresh from the morning smell, although specks of evidence suggested it was fading. The worst part of the day, it was loud, too loud. The little years screeched, arguments flared and the slap of the soles rang out as they sped around a compact space. It seemed rather like a prison, or a chicken pen. As I sat and watched the world from my step, the one person group soon developed into a ten person group, that's when it starts. The real torture of this expedition, as more and more friends appeared, the more I distanced myself. They seemed to spring out of thin air! I sat on the step, just watching and occasionally listening, being stepped over as I sat in a planet other than this one, staring out to the field. It seemed like such an empty world, like when you look out to sea, endless blue, this was like an endless green, completely empty, almost deserted. Compared to the chicken pen I was sat in, it seemed like heaven!

Then the migration happened, a swarm of students all heading for one place. Slowly, I joined the stampede, ready for another hour of clock watching.

Even though it was the same journey, just backwards, it didn't feel the same, there was more of a "used" and "old" smell about, and more cars on the road, so much noise in such a small space. But I made me way over to my world.

A place by the canal.

It was quieter, the kind quiet you get in the early hours of the morning, with the odd bird singing. Everything just seemed so different, I didn't feel so alone; no one could hurt me here. I sat and watched the water for awhile, I could feel no cold, it was like I was in a bubble; until time silently jolted me back to Earth. I sighed, "Better go then," and once again I dragged myself along the straight, tedious road.

As I walked into the room, a blast of cold air hit me, that melted me like chocolate in a pan, "Mum must have gone out," I thought, "Looks like I had the house to myself again," I went straight to where I had started from, my room.

At last, a common smell overthrew what seemed like an ever-lasting unfamiliarity, which had glued itself to me, refusing to let go. I was safe. Security jerked over me, a smile crept up. Privacy was mine; locked in a world of peace and tranquillity of which only I knew. Imaginary guard dogs waiting to pounce on anyone who dared intrude this world of peace. That's what this was to me, my own imaginary world of peace, and I was not prepared to give it up for anyone. At last I was where I wanted to be, where everything seemed so much easier, and nothing seemed impossible, tools of release sat patiently if I needed them, and after another expedition I sighed with relief, only to think:
"I'll have to go through it all again tomorrow."

Tales From Earth:Expedition

2005-11-29T17:15:18Z

Kobeyu:

The Expedition

The small gap in the curtain gave the sun chance to introduce itself to the world. It crept in to the tiny room, bringing it to life. Now it was my turn. The sound of the alarm indicated another day, a sound I dreaded the most. It just seems to repetitive, get up, drag myself to the shower, zombie like drag myself back, and then continue to prepare for another day at that dreaded place. School.
Music swam through my room; I was so much more awake now, with a little Jimmy Eat World ringing through my ears. As I threw my jumper on, I stood in front of the window, my empty reflection stared back. "Here we go again Maz," I sighed once more, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the next step of the preparation stage.
As usual I was greeted by darkness, I pulled the curtain back and turned the light on, "Much better," I thought aloud. Time sneaked up on me and it was soon time to make my way out into the long journey.
The journey, the worst part, but also the best part, no homely worries surrounding me and no school paranoia lingering. Yes, the best part had to be the journey.
The ground wore a coat of frost, and the wind pierced through me, sending a shiver down my spine, a definite English winter! The sun had gone; it hid behind a black painted piece of cotton wool. Few cars were on the road, their headlights illuminating the way, spot lighting me as I slumped down the near busy roads. The smell of fumes polluted the air, together with the morning smell, the kind that refreshes the air, however doesn't help with the fact there was another 6 hours to spend away from home.
50 minutes later I was there.
I walked up to the meeting place; everyone was laughing already, the same people in their place. The lonesome boy next to the buildings, staring down the path, desperate for someone he knew to come and join him. Someone I knew but didn't acknowledge me, standing in the car park with her friends, chatting. The cricket players playing with a tennis ball, cheering as one of them screamed "OUT!" Why was it so noisy? It was 8:15 in the morning! A wave of dread sprinted through me, I froze in the yard, and there was the huge group I was part of, raucous laughter emulating from it. But today I stood away from them, and looked around. It's amazing the different groups. You have the stuck up' girls, wearing the shortest shirts and the tightest trousers known to the human race. Then there was the who cares' girls, who sat talking of smoking and drugs. They glared at the grebs', their rivals; smart but not obviously smart and didn't care about what anyone thought. They were joined by the girls who worked, but weren't geeks, now they were glared at by their rivals; the hard boys,' you know the type, trousers tucked in their socks, mo-ped helmets on show as if it were a trophy. In just one yard, so many groups, but that's what I hated the most; the tension as one group past another, you could cut it with a knife,' the sound of the bell yanked me out of my thoughts at this point.
Time for registration.
All through it I worried about the day ahead; lessons I had, never feeling noticed at dinner, and as time went on I began to dread it even more, I longed to be at home, but all too soon was it time to go to first lesson. English.
The alienated smell suffocated me as I dragged myself into another hour of inner torment. Laughter hugged the air, as conversations between friends sparked. Frozen. The higher authority' sauntered in, immediately, the once empty space sank into silence and lifeless expressions rose upon the faces of the inmates. You could always tell another lesson had begun by those dead expressions. Every lesson was the same, you had the robot-like students on auto-pilot, looking straight forward as if hypnotised, or on some form of public transport! To think, I had another 5 lessons of this.
When dinner landed, after four gruelling hours' lessons, I was totally exhausted. Time seemed to go so slowly over the 40 minute period. One person sat on the small wall; I knew that was soon to change. I sat near her, the usual start of a conversation, "Hi, how are you?" (Always a good starting point in my opinion). The air was still fresh from the morning smell, although specks of evidence suggested it was fading. The worst part of the day, it was loud, too loud. The little years screeched, arguments flared and the slap of the soles rang out as they sped around a compact space. It seemed rather like a prison, or a chicken pen. As I sat and watched the world from my step, the one person group soon developed into a ten person group, that's when it starts. The real torture of this expedition, as more and more friends appeared, the more I distanced myself. They seemed to spring out of thin air! I sat on the step, just watching and occasionally listening, being stepped over as I sat in a planet other than this one, staring out to the field. It seemed like such an empty world, like when you look out to sea, endless blue, this was like an endless green, completely empty, almost deserted. Compared to the chicken pen I was sat in, it seemed like heaven!
Then the migration happened, a swarm of students all heading for one place. Slowly, I joined the stampede, ready for another hour of clock watching.
Even though it was the same journey, just backwards, it didn't feel the same, there was more of a "used" and "old" smell about, and more cars on the road, so much noise in such a small space. But I made me way over to my world.
A place by the canal.
It was quieter, the kind quiet you get in the early hours of the morning, with the odd bird singing. Everything just seemed so different, I didn't feel so alone; no one could hurt me here. I sat and watched the water for awhile, I could feel no cold, it was like I was in a bubble; until time silently jolted me back to Earth. I sighed, "Better go then," and once again I dragged myself along the straight, tedious road.
As I walked into the room, a blast of cold air hit me, that melted me like chocolate in a pan, "Mum must have gone out," I thought, "Looks like I had the house to myself again," I went straight to where I had started from, my room.
At last, a common smell overthrew what seemed like an ever-lasting unfamiliarity, which had glued itself to me, refusing to let go. I was safe. Security jerked over me, a smile crept up. Privacy was mine; locked in a world of peace and tranquillity of which only I knew. Imaginary guard dogs waiting to pounce on anyone who dared intrude this world of peace. That's what this was to me, my own imaginary world of peace, and I was not prepared to give it up for anyone. At last I was where I wanted to be, where everything seemed so much easier, and nothing seemed impossible, tools of release sat patiently if I needed them, and after another expedition I sighed with relief, only to think:
"I'll have to go through it all again tomorrow."

Tales From Earth

2005-11-29T17:12:54Z

Kobeyu: /* Index of articles */

Firebox 100 Letters

2005-11-29T11:49:48Z

Kobeyu: /* Letters in Message */

==General==
On August 2, Sente Kiteway sent out an email saying that the first 100 people to order Perplex City cards after the email was sent out would receive "a little something extra" with their order. This turned out to be a copy of card #089, signed by Sente and the Mind Candy team, with a number or letter below the card points number and (#)/100 in the lower right corner of the card.

==References==
* [http://perplexcitycardcatalog.com/view.php?source=bookmarklet&item=089 Card 89, in the Card Catalogue]

==02-AUG-05 Email from Sente==
{| border="0" cellpadding="10" width="70%" style="border: 2px solid #ddddff;" bgcolor="#f3f3ff"
|Hello,

It has been some time since I last contacted you. I’d like to thank you for your patience - as you can imagine, there has been a great deal going on in Perplex City over the past months.

The most important news to report is that the puzzle cards I have talked of for so long have now been created. The work has been produced by a team of seven highly talented puzzle scribes from the Perplex City Academy.

These cards reveal a great deal about our city and people, through them I hope you’ll be able to piece together the mystery of who stole the missing Receda Cube and where on Earth it has been hidden. I look forward to the day when I can present the £100,000 / $200,000 reward to whomever solves the mystery.

There are only nine stores in nine different cities on Earth where you can buy these puzzle cards. I appreciate that travel to these locations may not be easy so I have made sure that the cards are also available online:

http://www.firebox.com/perplexcityexclusive

I plan to include a note of thanks to all who buy cards but I also have a little something extra for the first 100 people who place their order from now.

Your help in cracking the most enigmatic mystery that has ever befallen our city is greatly appreciated. We will not forget your efforts.

Sente

Master of the Perplex City Academy

http://www.perplexcity.com

--

The ability to unsubscribe from the Perplex City Academy mailing list
will be introduced in the next email.
|}

==Letters in Message==

chriscoyier: 1=2
Lazarus: 2=4
number9dream: 5=8
Geist: 6=6
diddymac: 7=9
Naomi T: 12=8
ryknow: 14=4
Shockt: 16=7
sherpa: 19=7
buzman: 21=5
juno8888: 23=2
SheRa: 25=4
Ken Brett: 33=8 ?? [http://www.firebox.com/index.html?dir=firebox&action=product&pid=1082 From firebox video]
SpaceBass: 36=9
Trayci: 37=3
MacAnguish: 40=4
uptownishnyc: 42=2
Peapod: 45=5
Dorkmaster: 46=4
Geofortean: 49=3
Archimedea: 50=7
Xanatos: 61=2
hylas: 62=1
Bahamoth: 68=3 (from PXCforums)
Flicks09: 73=1
giffer2: 76=2
Riiick: 78=7
Mattlock: 80=8
Puzzled Pineapple: 82=S [could this be a "5"?][nope, it's an S]
Helix: 83=U
Gemini: 84=D
European Chris: 85=0 [Are you sure this isn't an "O" EC?]
The First Speaker: 91=E
Mima: 92=P
braincoffee.com: 94=T
Kender: 95=R
Vary: 97=C
questionboy: 98=K
crobin: 100=Z

<tt>

24..869....8.4.7..7.5...4.......8..93..4.2..54..37..........21.....3....1..2.7.8.SUD0.....EP.TR.CK.Z

2437869519.8.4.7..7.5.2.4.8....1834938.4.21754.137.8........21.....3..9.1..2.7.8.
(implied by sudoku board)
</tt>

With current data, the 8 possible solutions are:

<tt>
243786951918543726765129438572618349386492175491375862857964213624831597139257684
243786951918543726765921438527618349386492175491375862674859213852134697139267584
243786951918543762765129438572618349386492175491375826857964213624831597139257684
243786951918543762765921438527618349386492175491375826674859213852134697139267584
243786951968145732715923468627518349389462175451379826536894217872631594194257683
243786951968145732715923468672518349389462175451379826536894217827631594194257683
243786951968145732715923468672518349389462175451379826897654213524831697136297584
243786951968541732715923468527618349386492175491375826674859213852134697139267584
</tt>

==Graphical Solution Board==

[[Image:Pxcsudoku.png]]

Firebox 100 Letters

2005-11-29T11:49:24Z

Kobeyu: /* Letters in Message */

==General==
On August 2, Sente Kiteway sent out an email saying that the first 100 people to order Perplex City cards after the email was sent out would receive "a little something extra" with their order. This turned out to be a copy of card #089, signed by Sente and the Mind Candy team, with a number or letter below the card points number and (#)/100 in the lower right corner of the card.

==References==
* [http://perplexcitycardcatalog.com/view.php?source=bookmarklet&item=089 Card 89, in the Card Catalogue]

==02-AUG-05 Email from Sente==
{| border="0" cellpadding="10" width="70%" style="border: 2px solid #ddddff;" bgcolor="#f3f3ff"
|Hello,

It has been some time since I last contacted you. I’d like to thank you for your patience - as you can imagine, there has been a great deal going on in Perplex City over the past months.

The most important news to report is that the puzzle cards I have talked of for so long have now been created. The work has been produced by a team of seven highly talented puzzle scribes from the Perplex City Academy.

These cards reveal a great deal about our city and people, through them I hope you’ll be able to piece together the mystery of who stole the missing Receda Cube and where on Earth it has been hidden. I look forward to the day when I can present the £100,000 / $200,000 reward to whomever solves the mystery.

There are only nine stores in nine different cities on Earth where you can buy these puzzle cards. I appreciate that travel to these locations may not be easy so I have made sure that the cards are also available online:

http://www.firebox.com/perplexcityexclusive

I plan to include a note of thanks to all who buy cards but I also have a little something extra for the first 100 people who place their order from now.

Your help in cracking the most enigmatic mystery that has ever befallen our city is greatly appreciated. We will not forget your efforts.

Sente

Master of the Perplex City Academy

http://www.perplexcity.com

--

The ability to unsubscribe from the Perplex City Academy mailing list
will be introduced in the next email.
|}

==Letters in Message==

chriscoyier: 1=2
Lazarus: 2=4
number9dream: 5=8
Geist: 6=6
diddymac: 7=9
Naomi T: 12=8
ryknow: 14=4
Shockt: 16=7
sherpa: 19=7
buzman: 21=5
juno8888: 23=2
SheRa: 25=4
Ken Brett: 33=8 ?? [http://www.firebox.com/index.html?dir=firebox&action=product&pid=1082 From firebox video]
SpaceBass: 36=9
Trayci: 37=3
MacAnguish: 40=4
uptownishnyc: 42=2
Peapod: 45=5
Dorkmaster: 46=4
Geofortean: 49=3
Archimedea: 50=7
Xanatos: 61=2
hylas: 62=1
Bahamoth: 68=3 (from PXCforums)
Flicks09: 73=1
giffer2: 76=2
Riiick: 78=7
Mattlock: 80=8
Puzzled Pineapple: 82=S [could this be a "5"?][nope, it's an S]
Helix: 83=U
Gemini: 84=D
European Chris: 85=0 [Are you sure this isn't an "O" EC?]
The First Speaker: 91=E
Mima: 92=P
braincoffee.com: 94=T
Kender: 95=R
Vary: 97=C
questionboy: 98=K
crobin: 100=Z

<tt>

24..869....8.4.7..7.5...4.......8..93..4.2..54..37..........21.....3....1..2.7.8.SUD0.....EP.TR.CK.Z

2437869519.8.4.7..7.5.2.4.8....1834938.4.21754.137.8........21.....3..9.1..2.7.8.
(implied by sudoku board)
</tt>

With current data, the 8 possible solutions are:
<tt>
243786951918543726765129438572618349386492175491375862857964213624831597139257684
243786951918543726765921438527618349386492175491375862674859213852134697139267584
243786951918543762765129438572618349386492175491375826857964213624831597139257684
243786951918543762765921438527618349386492175491375826674859213852134697139267584
243786951968145732715923468627518349389462175451379826536894217872631594194257683
243786951968145732715923468672518349389462175451379826536894217827631594194257683
243786951968145732715923468672518349389462175451379826897654213524831697136297584
243786951968541732715923468527618349386492175491375826674859213852134697139267584
</tt>

==Graphical Solution Board==

[[Image:Pxcsudoku.png]]

Talk:Firebox 100 Letters

2005-11-29T00:54:19Z

Kobeyu:

Would it count as "Brute Force" to have used a sudoku solver here? cos i um.. have... and it gives more than one solution, but not that many. [[User:Kobeyu|Kobeyu]]

Talk:Firebox 100 Letters

2005-11-29T00:04:28Z

Kobeyu:

Would it count as "Brute Force" to have used a sudoku solver here? cos i um.. have. [[User:Kobeyu|Kobeyu]]