Genre: Satire, Humor & Parody
About Astonished LemonsLocation: California, San Jose Home Region: Age:18 Favorite novels: Life of Pi, Anything Discworld, The Historian, Lamb; the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, The Book Thief, Dark Lord of Derkholm, Eight Days of Luke, The Dresden Files, Tortall books Favorite writers: Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Diana Wynne Jones, Tamora Pierce, Patricia Wrede, Christopher moore, Jim Butcher, Eion Colfer Favorite music: Loreena Mckennitt, Nox Arcana, Voltaire, Dido, Sia, Flobots, and about three gig's worth of memory space more that I can't recall at the moment. Non-noveling interests: Computer-ing, reading, school and watching random movies with my bud. |
Joined: August 29, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 189 NaNoWriMo buddies: 30
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Brief Author Bio: Hiya. Names Helina, and it's pretty much a given that I'm in this for the words. I usually go by 'Zephronias' as a username for other places, so if you are who I think you are, then I might be who you think I am and as such we can friend. Or not. Either or, really. I'm in my second year of college (though that doesn't say much because I'm only taking a few classes. Being poor sucks), and the house I live in is full of cats, birds, fish, rodents and more cats. And that's really it as far as personal stuff goes. |
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Synopsis: Torri and the End of the World or; Angels Fall, Everyone Dies
Due to a clerical error in the celestial bureaucracy, Torri Salas wakes up to find that the end of the world has passed and she is the last human on earth. As far as Armageddons go, it was a fairly quiet affair that simply snatched up all humans and the higher class of dolphin and left the Earth to rot. (It's later found out that the reason God skipped through the whole 'Revelations' and 'four horseman' thing was because He stopped to play a game of D&D and lost track of the time, meaning He had to skip a lot of -what Torri would call- 'the good stuff' to remain on schedule. Apparently, the world was supposed to end after the Mets won back in 2006).
For a few months, maybe a year, it’s a very quiet end of the world.
Then angels start falling out of the sky and landing any which where, leaving trash, feathers, and unsightly stains all around what she by now believes to be HER city. They are there to claim the world and start their own society from scratch, a sort of second chance. The problem? They're all mental in one form or another. As the only truly sane being on the planet (and the only one who knows how proper Earth physics works, and how to use the can opener), Torri now finds herself babysitting a bunch of injured, disagreeable, bi-polar, psychopathic, paranoid, manic depressive, schizophrenic and occasionally homicidal angels who don't know the meaning of 'personal space', some of which hate her for being human, some of which think she's a cute little monkey who can do neat tricks with the TV remote and garage opener, and others who think they should be the calling the shots and ruling the world so they can have a turn at smiting stuff.
A troublemaking Grigori (Shemyazza) decides that Earth alone isn't enough for him, and so proceeds to rip the universe a new one in order to bring in a few eldritch abominations from the next few universes over. With his unmentionable army he intends to take over hell, then heaven.
("Wait, you're taking over hell too? Isn't that- jeez, I don't know, against the fallen angel code or something?"
"Why would that be?" said Shem.
"I don't know. I just figured Lucifer-"
"Fuck Lucifer. "
"What?"
"You heard me. Fuck Lucifer. He didn't lift even one of his thoroughly God damned fingers to get us out of the pit. Fuck him.")
So now aliens ranging from small green dudes with large heads and lasers to huge, mind-exploding tentacled things are showing up, and it's up to Torri, Jhudiel -The Warden sent to make sure this sort of thing doesn't happen- and a haphazard group of the heavenly rejects to try and sew the universe back together.
Excerpt: Torri and the End of the World or; Angels Fall, Everyone Dies
"You're not pretty."
Jhudiel stopped walking. "Oh? What makes you say that?"
Torri shrugged. "I just thought I should mention it. I don't want all these pretty paintings of robed supermodels with wings around here swelling your head."
The warden looked around the main sanctuary's entrance and realized that, yes; there were quite a few flattering pictures of angels hanging up on the walls. Most involved them either floating in the air singing or watching over people doing day-to-day chores, such as herding cattle or withdrawing water from wells.
"Well," he said after a moment. "You are not in possession of a well."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing. I just did not want the well related artwork here to lull you into a false sense of superiority."
"That doesn't make any sense. Why the hell would I want a well?"
Jhudiel shrugged. "Why would I want to be considered attractive to a race of clay derived monkeys who feel that everything included in art must be -ahem- 'pretty'?"
"I've still got a sledge hammer."
"I've still got a sword composed of celestial fire."
"I can lick my elbow."
"Liar."
"Am not! Watch." The girl put down the hammer and grabbed her right wrist. She then flipped her arm around so that she was, indeed, licking her elbow.
Jhudiel nodded appreciatively while she untangled herself.
"Touché," he said.
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