Who: Bells of Nevermore.
What: Horror-writer. Hellraiser. 3D artist. Roleplayer. Witch.
When: When you least expect it... expect it! I'll art all over you or
something, muwaahaha!
Why: Because ice cream doesn't have bones and they don't serve purple fishwads at Walmart on Wednesday. C'mon. ::taps
foot::
Where: Here. Right here. Exactly where you oughta worry about just what the
heck I'm doing.
How: However I damn well please, and I'll
probably teach you if you ask nicely. Or if you feed me sashimi. Or if you're a
cat. ::poke:: Are you a cat?
If the above is intriguing to you, please feel free to venture a little further
into the strangeness of my reality.
A small Surgeon General's Warning: my stories are not light and cheery.
My horror-writer DNA shows; please consider everything you see of mine to be
PG-13 at the mildest. Usually I am closer to hard R. Sometimes I wander off
into NC-17 or freakin' X on basis of sheer violence alone. Why am I stressing
this? Because then you can't say you weren't warned...
Abhandlungen der Bells:
It is 1978. A thirteen year old girl is madly running at her top speed from the
school bus to the front of her television set, shoving her annoying brother out
of the way, and using her enormous black standard poodle as a couch pillow. Her
mother looks to her, quizzically; what cartoon could be so delightful as to
require such a manic dash? And why does said child then repair to her bedroom
and scrawl and scribble in carefully-hidden notebooks?
It is 1984. A nineteen year old woman is sitting with a group of friends and
laughing over a game of First Edition AD&D. Suddenly, she looks to them and
says 'Why don't we roleplay something based in that series we all watched at EveCon?' The roleplay is so immersive that the group of
four is still playing eighteen hours later. The game will continue until there
are four passed-out young women, lying in a pile of pizza boxes and Classic
Coke cans.
It is 1986. A woman of twenty-one is
carefully applying blue greasepaint to cover naturally-olive skin. Despite powedering it with fixer of the same color and then
spraying it over with pastel fixative, there will be blue runnels all over her
Gamilon officer's uniform. But by the time the damage is noted, it will not
matter: she will still have taken an award in the masquerade in this sleepy
desert town, at the sweet little convention she so assiduously prepared for.
Only a handful know the reference, but she spreads the love. The young Gamilon
officer leaves new fans of an old series.
It is 1990. The twenty-five-year old woman has begun to write in earnest. She
is sitting aboard the USS Cape Cod and hammering away at an old manual
typewriter. Her duties are done and she's writing to keep from thinking about
the fact that this destroyer tender is sailing to war. Though her writings have
taken on hues of horror-black, blood-red and dagger-silver, she has never
forgotten the series that awakened her... which indeed influenced her decision
to serve her country.
It is 1996. At 31, many other people have ceased a fascination with roleplaying. Not so this woman; she runs online, text-based games heavy on character development and rife with sex and violence. She can pack an AOL chat room just by her sheer presence therein. Though the milieu is most often Star Trek, her influence of old often slips in. Sometimes, the Federation finds itself facing off against the aggressive Gamilons or the brutal Gatlantians.
It is 2001. The Delphi Forums have never seen a roleplayer like the 36-year-old who now walks under the monicker of 'Hyaena'. She will run games for the next nine years, taking people to places they never dreamed they would go. One such place is the Sanzar system...
It is 2021. The writer is now here on Visions. She extends a hand to you with a toothy grin, welcoming you into the furnace-heat of her creativity engine. It's dark within this chamber, and you can hear something... laughing.
Do you dare to follow the tolling of the Bells of Nevermore?
Projekte des Bells: (“The Bells; Projects”, for you Auslanders who may not speak German, LOL
-- Freddo )
A new and Revised Version of a classic tale
from Bells: RAGE OF HEAVEN Warning! Filled with Gore, Sex, etcetera.
To read it: CLICK HERE
Next, Hyaena is also a writer and artist.
Her Original (and very dark) Yamato/Star Blazers fan-fiction work “THE RAGE OF HEAVEN” will soon be appearing on these pages.
She
and I were also co-writing a work called STAR BLAZERS: THE JANUS CONUNDRUM that
was here. We decided to take it down, but, fear not…we agreed bits and pieces
of this project will be melded into Freddo’s
Recapitulation of Series One of Yamato/Star Blazers: A Voyage To Remember (starting
at Chapter Nine)
Finally,
for a taste of her writing (and a taste of our collaboration) as well as a look
at her amazing artwork, go here to the latest chapter posted of my work: IT
NEVER RAINS IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, (CHAPTER FOURTEEN). Hyaena’s artwork (an
adorable picture of our sweet but tough Nova Wildstar) appears along with a
mystical, dark scene featuring one of her characters from her RPG, the
mysterious KALEVI DENNEMAN… CLICK HERE TO SEE CH. 14 OF IT NEVER RAINS IN SOUTHERN
CALIFORNIA