BlueSniper's Updates/Feedback Thread

[BlueSniper]

Sorry I've been away for some time, RL issues have been...issues. (Gotta love my way with words, that's why I have so many fans)

Thanks to the people who commented. Yarr, don't worry, it's in store, but you won't necessarily...well, finishing that sentence would reveal stuff, so I'll stick with the "it's in store."

And ON!

[yarr]

Yarr, don't worry, it's in store, but you won't necessarily...well, finishing that sentence would reveal stuff, so I'll stick with the "it's in store."

And ON!

Jolly good. It will be interesting how that is handled should it happen out of reach of those large cups previously used. I doubt a normal toilet will stand much of a chance. Maybe an outhouse. Damn the secrecy! 

[Jimmy Olsen]

In case you're wondering, "Schizophrenia" is 24,200 words long, making it about exactly the same length as "Discord in Scarlet" by Van Vogt, or twice the length of "The Call of Cthulhu" by Lovecraft or "Nightfall" by Asimov or "We Can Remember It for You Wholesale" by Dick, or half the length of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

I'm using its extreme length as an excuse for having not finished and reviewed it yet. 

[OrpheumZero]

Hope you don't mind, but I posted your old Tekken 2 and Dead or Alive stories on the fiction site. If you want, I can alway change the penname to yours. I just thought it'd be nice to share these little classics here on the site.

[BlueSniper]

That's absolutely fine. I don't remember much about the Dead or Alive one, I just remember it was slightly based around a picture I had requested from back in the day.

I apologize for the huge delays. I promise I'm not throwing in the towel or anything. And this time, it's not because of writer's block; I took your advice, yarr, but now I'm just super busy. I will have some time to write, though.

[OrpheumZero]

As I said, if you ever want them reverted back to your name, just say so.

[yarr]

I hope you're not dead, bluesniper? 

[Toasty]

I second yarr's hope of you not being dead, BlueSniper.

[BlueSniper]

Still alive. I'm not feeling confident about finishing Schizophrenia though. I have ideas, but I can't seem to come up with a way for them to flow together. It's like there are too many directions I want things to go in.

[Zee_phyro]

ahh nice to see u still around Bluesniper  ;D well, about schizophrenia, why don't you tell us what your ideas are... and if you want, maybe we can help you to figure out what you want to write... 

[BlueSniper]

Wow. I just...wow. It's been a while since I posted here (more than 120 days, according to the site!), and I'm mildly to moderately perturbed to say this, but Schizophrenia might just be on permanent hiatus.

*shrinks back from the chorus of assorted "we know"s and "well, yeah"s in the audience*

If I hadn't lost the base computer it was on, then the email address in which it was stored via Google Docs, I'd be up for redoing it/continuing it. But considering that I hadn't even gotten to the timeskip, or even the big battle part 1, I don't find it a huge loss. (Also Soul Calibur's story is confusing as [expletive deleted].)

I tend to like working with the same characters in an established framework and building toward something; I can't help it. However, my track record for long-term projects is...not great. So I guess a compromise would be a bunch of one-shots in the same fictional universe (a relatively original one since that's how I roll) but without a larger story necessarily tying them all together. In this spirit, I'm totally throwing something up that I just started and finished tonight, no rewrites, no edits, just my mind plopping it on the page. Let's see...possibly vaguely magical girls with, ahem, callipygian figures, piloting giant robotic things against alien squads who will later be revealed to be the minions of some super powerful race of space Amazons with telepathic powers and lots of fiber in their diet?

Okay, so there might be a couple of two or three parters...

[Jimmy Olsen]

When can we expect to see this?

[BlueSniper]

Probably in about 15 minutes, actually. I decided that the whole "no revisions" thing might be a mistake. 

Also, I'm aware that there's usually an element of yuri in all of my stories, from slightly subtle to the epic will-they-or-won't-they of Maya and Cassandra. I'm going to try and cut down on that a bit, but...not yet. I understand that it doesn't appeal to everyone. This isn't at all in response to anything in particular, other than some back-reading that I've been doing of my stories.

EDIT: Actually, I'm having a bit of trouble since it's not accepting my summary edits. So...we'll see.

[BlueSniper]

So...hmm. Here we go. If the italicized part sounds like a voice-over intro to an anime, that's the intention. This story is basically me making an "established framework" out of an anime series that doesn't actually exist. The title of this fake anime series is Axon Mobile Corps.

The year is 2100. Humanity has made its first foray into outer space with the construction of mobile colonies currently in orbit around Earth. However, the lands beyond the wild blue yonder have proven to be somewhat nefarious, so in order to protect itself Earth has created a solution. That solution is the Axon Mobile Corps, a team of young mecha pilots--Akira Akiyama, Yuki Nanjo, and Jun Tsukino--who do what they must to defend Earth. Powered by the very energy sources that other alien races would use to attack them, the Axon Mobile Models perform dexterous tasks and military missions by synchronizing with their pilots, allowing the pilots to control them telepathically. It is through this strange symbiotic relationship between human and machine that Earth remains a bastion of freedom in the universe.

And now for the actual fic thing:

"Finally...a little R&R."

Akira Akiyama let herself fall back into her bed, arms outstretched. She made no effort to cover her mouth as she yawned in exhaustion. The last three weeks had been tiring for everyone involved in the Axon Project, and of course the star pilot was the center of attention. Piloting an enormous mechanical humanoid was one thing. The press conferences, the peace talks, the banquets--alright, so perhaps it wasn't all bad, but after the whole ordeal Akira was more than ready to have the next ten hours to herself.

Just ten hours...The nineteen-year-old redhead frowned, a wistful expression appearing on her face as she stared at the pink, starry ceiling of her quarters. It was the most continuous time she'd had to herself in a while, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much. Still, it was something. Akira reached for the novel near the side of her bed, a book she hadn't touched in months. Unlike the others, she actually still read books--that is, when they had the chance. Sure, she couldn't very well carry it into the cockpit (which was when she used the standard holographic Sho-Books) but she could always catch a page or two before bed and after waking up. The familiar weight felt good in her hands--

"Alright, let's--oh hi, Akira."

Akira's door hissed open, revealing another teen who was clearly in the midst of barging into the room. Like Akira, she wore the standard black spandex jumpsuit with belt and a half-jacket. Unlike Akira, her hair was shorter, about chin length, and a deep indigo shade. She was also built slightly more thickly in the thigh area. They both had relatively athletic builds, but the newcomer's leg muscles--as well as the round buttocks connecting them to her back--were a bit heftier than Akira's. These were some of the many things that Akira heard about on an almost daily basis, given the other girl's tendency to brag about...almost everything. Yuki Nanjo wasn't a bad friend, per se, she just could be a bit talkative when the subject was herself, or the many male crew members who she would catch staring at her, or the modeling career with some rapper's line of clothing that she'd given up to be part of Axon, or any number of things, really.

"Uh...Yuki?" Akira asked, an eyebrow raised.

Yuki fidgeted, attempting to adopt something of a nonchalant appearance as she leaned against the door-frame. "So, what's up? How's the book?"

Akira smiled, slightly amused. "Thus far it's good, but I haven't started the next chapter yet. I was just about to."

"Sounds great," Yuki replied.

There was a pause.

"So...did you need something?"

Yuki glanced down the hall behind her, then back at Akira. "Um...about that. You see, I actually came to--"

A loud gurgle could be heard in the small room. With only two occupants at the time, it wasn't difficult to narrow down the source. It subsequently became even less difficult when Yuki held her hand to her abdomen, her cheeks tinged just the faintest shade of red.

"Wait a minute," Akira said, sitting upright and holding up a hand. "No. No way. Not this time."

"Oh, come on," Yuki demanded, taking ginger steps toward the bed. "It's the new sync drink. I swear Dr. Tanderogi spiked it with laxatives or something. And let's be fair, I assumed you'd be off-ship, at the library or something."

Akira made a face. "Don't you and Jun have a bathroom?"

Scoffing, Yuki rolled her eyes. "Up until about twenty minutes ago, we did. Which means, by my best estimate, that I'll have to wait another thirty for the air to become breathable again. You know how Jun is."

"She does love those dino-burgers for some reason," Akira noted with a wry smile. "But I also know how you are. I had to unclog it last time by myself. With a biohazard mask."

"Please," Yuki whined, standing uncomfortably with her legs crossed behind her, forcing her rear end to close tightly over its messy payload. "I promise I'll try not to clog it up. It's not even so bad this time. Think of it this way: I could be arguing about it while standing on your rug and maybe losing control, or it could be safely inside your toilet with no mess and no fuss."

"And what about the public bathroom on this floor?"

"Occupied. By a couple of B-levels, of course." Yuki frowned. "Anything else? I don't think I can hold it much longer, and I definitely can't make it to a different floor in time--"

Almost in unison with this last sentence, a dull-sounding fart burst out from between Yuki's clenched cheeks, vibrating loudly. PRRRAPT! Akira froze for a moment, but there seemed to be no damage to her zebra-patterned rug.

Yuki's blush deepened to scarlet as she checked the back of her leggings with some subtlety. "Well, that kinda highlights the seriousness of the situation, doesn't it? The next one might be a bit more, uh...solid. Or liquid, for that matter."

Falling back onto the bed in annoyance, Akira muttered something under her breath. "You know where the plunger is."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou..." Yuki dashed past the small bed to the door. She punched in the "open" command into the small silver keypad, then swung around to the other side and began typing in the "close" command with one hand while unzipping the lower half of her suit with the other.

Akira sighed as she heard the sounds of Yuki fumbling with the zipper. It could take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour for any of the pilots to finish their toilet-related duties, and she probably wouldn't get any reading done with Yuki blasting off like a rocket only a few feet away. Although, that didn't mean she couldn't amuse herself...

"Override close command," Akira said in a mischievous voice, swinging her legs off the bed and turning to face a confused Yuki.

"Override? But why--"

Akira raised an index finger. "First, we can't have you suffocating yourself in there. The bigger area will allow the smell to disperse a little quicker. And secondly," she said, holding up another finger, "I can't read with you dropping logs as loudly as you do. I might as well have some quality entertainment. This is my room after all."

Yuki considered this for a moment. "Whatever." Yanking her bottoms down, the bigger pilot dropped onto the toilet forcefully, folding her arms over her stomach. It was now Akira's turn to lean against the door-frame in a seemingly nonchalant fashion, a lighter in one hand and a cinnamon-scented candle in the other. Any minute now, the fireworks would start--

BRRRRRIP! A wet-sounding blast rang out as Yuki's anus expanded, allowing the long-held-back tide of soft excrement to drop noisily, piece by misshapen, pasty piece, into the bowl beneath. The blue-haired girl rubbed her aching stomach firmly with one hand, gripping the basin of the sink beside her with the other as she bore down to release more wet slop into the bowl almost just as loudly. An odd grimace was forming on Yuki's face as she squinted with one eye, her cheek pulled up by her pout at the exertion. The excrement crackled as it slimed through her anal opening, a ragged chain that was only occasionally broken by the odd burst of flatulence.

Running her free fingers through her long hair, Akira watched the spectacle with fascination. "One of your better performances."

"I..." SPLOOSH! "...hope..." SPPPPLLUCKK... "...you're--nngh--being..." PFFFFT... "...well-entertained," Yuki managed to get out between gasps. The weight in her intestines was lessening, but there was obviously more left in her, judging from the rumbling feeling deep in her guts. "Okay, I--ugh--officially don't care, Jun can pilot the new machine. There is no way I'm drinking that stuff ever again."

"I'm sure she probably felt the same way half an hour ago," Akira said with a chuckle, lighting the candle in her hands and holding it closer to her face. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Yuki replied, still rubbing her abdomen. "I've still got more."

Akira nodded, amused but also amazed at the sheer capacity of Yuki's intestines. When Yuki had started, she'd absently counted about two dozen plops before losing count as they all blurred into a torrent of muck spewing freely out of Yuki's butt. The water level in the toilet was probably beginning to rise. A thought occurred to her as she pondered this. "You know, you could probably--"

"Urgh," Yuki hunched forward as a loud fart popped out, reverberating in the bowl beneath her. Her stomachache seemed to return with a vengeance, and now she sprayed a chunky, viscous soup into the bowl, the mess plopping softly atop her earlier output as it squirted from her. Akira's nose crinkled as the smell started to rise from beneath her friend. The sounds Yuki was making resembled ketchup being forced from a plastic bottle. It was hard to differentiate from the sound of her urinating, though she was doing that too, from the sound of it.

"--flush now," Akira finished lamely. At least, if the sounds Yuki's rear end were making were any indication, the excrement now exiting her wasn't going to do too much in clogging the toilet. The redheaded girl pocketed her lighter and sat on the edge of the tub, next to her incredibly productive friend and copilot. The smell was certainly stronger next to Yuki, but it was still bearable for now.

Well, as long as she didn't breathe.

Of course, the slight lull had fooled her into thinking that Yuki was even close to done, which, of course, could not have been more untrue. Yuki was almost bent double, both her arms wrapped around her midsection, meaning that Akira could now see her anus squeezing in and out as she dumped the wet, gooey load on a dangerously proportioned and still growing pile. From what Akira could see, things did not look good for the toilet, although she could only guess at how the rest of it looked. Yuki straightened a bit, holding back onto the side of the sink. Her stomachache must have been easing a bit. She took a couple deep breaths and grunted softly, spraying the bowl again with a high-pitched, vicious-smelling wet fart.

The runny, sloppy sound of Yuki's thorough colon-cleansing started to flag down, then stop. Yuki sighed contentedly, arching as she sat up.

"Feeling better?" Akira asked, rubbing Yuki's back.

"Much better, although I might have some bad news," Yuki said, a sheepish expression on her face. "Either that was some violent crapping I just did..."

"Entirely possible," Akira interrupted, grinning.

"...or...Imayhavefilledyourtoilet."

Akira's smile froze. "...what."

Yuki looked away, choosing her words carefully. "I kind of have...a mud-butt thing going on, and I think it might be because your toilet's full, so it's, um, it's actually touching my--"

"You know, when I said, 'You could probably flush now' I wasn't just joking," Akira grumbled.

"I know, I know..."

"I seem to remember saying something about not clogging my toilet."

"Well, it might not actually be clogged," Yuki managed weakly. "It was pretty splattery and gooey, it kind of went...outward; who knows, maybe it's just splash-back?"

"There was a lot of information in that statement," Akira said, sighing. "Maybe a bit too much. We might as well survey the damage, I guess."

Yuki sighed, then wordlessly leaned forward and stood.

It was as they had feared. The water in the toilet was but a memory, completely displaced by the literal mountain of greenish-brown excrement sticking out defiantly from the toilet. A pair of strange round indentations were at the top; they matched the soft, gooey mess squished between and smeared on Yuki's generous buttocks.

Gazing at the earthy mess in the toilet, Akira found it difficult to remain annoyed. Despite her initial disgust, there was something a little...thrilling?...about seeing the monstrous load, not to mention her friend's messy backside. Still, the smell was staggering; she fanned the air in front of her face. The thick rear Yuki loved to brag about must have been sealing in the noxious gases, and now that it was removed, the fumes were free to overpower her poor candle.

"You really did a number on that thing," Akira said softly. "I don't even..."

"...yeah, about that," Yuki said, her voice taking a strange tone as she put a hand to her stomach. "Um...I'm not quite--ugh!"

Yuki bent as an expression of pain and worry contorted her face. Before Akira could do or say anything, Yuki had spun around, her rear end hovering just over the toilet. She grabbed the sink once more and pushed hard with a moan. PRRRAATTT! A stream of brown chunky liquid jetted out of her anus, hitting the back of the bowl. Another grunt signaled a second wave of liquid, this one pure brown water. Akira could see the output carving trails in what had already come before, such was the force of Yuki's diarrhea.

"Oops," Yuki said, letting herself sit gingerly on the seat and holding her waistband to preserve at least some modesty. "Guess it's clean-up time." With her free hand, she reached toward the toilet paper roll.

"I don't think so," Akira said, intercepting Yuki's hand.

Yuki stared at her blankly. "Uh, what? Do we need to go over the mud-butt thing again?"

"Say 'mud-butt' one more time and it becomes your nickname," Akira replied. "And no, I'm quite aware of that. I'm also aware that adding paper on top of all of...that...is somewhat unwise."

"But--"

"But, but, but nothing," Akira cut in, pointing at the closet door. "You can wipe after you're done plunging."

Yuki pouted. "It was pretty soft. Maybe it'll flush."

Akira rolled her eyes, then pushed the flush lever. The toilet made a sound like someone trying to start a lawnmower underwater. Then, much like a lawnmower that was underwater, it stalled with a gurgle and was silent.

"Guess not, Mud-Butt," Akira joked. "Have fun plunging."

"Hey, I didn't say 'mud-butt'!"

"No, but you just did."

Yuki sighed, defeated. "Fine, fine, I'm plunging."

Sometimes, Akira mused, as she leaned against the wall of the small bathroom, arms folded, one did not need to be alone to relax. Now and then, it was nice to fly solo, to have time for reading, meditating, whatever. But as Akira glanced at Yuki's rear end, bouncing with each thrust of the plunger, she realized that it wasn't always necessary.

Sometimes there were better ways to unwind.

---

So I made some last minute changes, hope they're okay.

[Jimmy Olsen]

This has some nice description.  I like the part about her being unable to wipe right away.  I'd enjoy it much more if I knew more about the characters, or if there was an extra gimmick to the pooping or desperation.  I hope you have more stories in this universe.

Out of curiosity, what does flying solo mean?  I have a couple guesses, but I'd like to know what you really meant.