Beiträge von Froschi

  • Amokspiel - Sebastian Fitzek

    Ich habe es heute zu Ende gelesen und bin restlos begeistert!
    Es ist mindestens so gut wie "Die Therapie", fast noch ein bissle besser!


    Diese Spannung, Wahnsinn... :anbet
    Muss mir unbedingt bald das dritte Buch von Herrn Fitzek besorgen... :rolleyes :help


    Ich gebe 10 Punkte! :wave

  • 'Der Traum vom Tod' - Seiten 126 - Ende

    Zitat

    Original von Britt
    Nun muss ich also auch noch dafür sorgen, dass neben dem Papst auch kein medizinisches Fachpersonal das Buch in die Hände kriegt! :-(


    :rofl :rofl :rofl Quatsch, medizinisches Fachpersonal und vermutlich auch der Papst werden ja wohl nicht so kleinkariert sein. :knuddel





    Hast du für deine Recherchen eigentlich selbst mal an so einem Rollenspiel teilgenommen? Und anschließend die Beteiligten interviewt?
    Es wirkt alles sehr authentisch und echt, v.a. die Motivation und die emotionale Beteiligung der Figuren an diesen LARPs.

  • SUCHTKLINIK :-) - ab 05.01.2008

    Zitat

    Original von bartimaeus
    Ich bin deprimiert, da hatte ich mir doch BÜcher bestellt - und die Bestellung ist nicht angekommen, jetzt darf ich noch bis Montag warten :cry :cry :cry


    Armer Barti... :knuddel1 Such dir solange eins von meinen aus.*zimmerschlüsselgeb*

  • 'Der Traum vom Tod' - Seiten 001 - 125

    Zitat

    Original von Hoffis
    Auch die humoristische Einlagen mit Frau Baric, da sagt sich doch manche, sind die etwa deppet! :pille


    Ach Hoffis...dabei is es doch bestimmt sone Syphillisarbeit, die netten Baric-Dialoge zu gestalten... :rofl :rofl :rofl

  • 'Der Traum vom Tod' - Seiten 001 - 125

    Zitat

    Original von Britt
    Sorry, darf ich jetzt Allüren kriegen? :anbet


    Darfste! :kiss



    Zitat

    Original von Britt
    Froschi
    Wo hast du denn so schnell den Poe ausgegraben? Wow, den sollte ich auch mal wieder lesen, ich hab mich nur noch an die letzte Zeile erinnert. :rofl



    Den hab ich über The Raven ergoogelt... :grin
    Ich hab ihn auch noch irgentwo im Orginal. Ich krieg manchmal poetische Anfälle, da brauch ich sowas... :rolleyes



    Ach, uns das Kaminversteck ist klasse! ;-) :keks

  • 'Der Traum vom Tod' - Seiten 001 - 125

    Zitat

    Original von chiclana
    Eine Frage habe ich noch: Seite 118 "Quoth the raven: Nevermore" - helft mir mal auf die Sprünge: wer oder was ist das?


    Ich glaub sie hat sich das auf das Gedicht The Raven von Edgar Allan Poe bezogen:


    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
    As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
    `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
    Only this, and nothing more.'


    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
    Nameless here for evermore.


    And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
    Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
    This it is, and nothing more,'


    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
    `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
    That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
    Darkness there, and nothing more.


    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
    But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
    This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
    Merely this and nothing more.


    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
    Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
    Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
    Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
    'Tis the wind and nothing more!'


    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
    In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
    Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
    Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
    `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
    Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
    Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
    Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
    Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
    With such name as `Nevermore.'


    But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
    Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
    On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
    Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'


    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
    `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
    Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
    Of "Never-nevermore."'


    But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
    What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
    Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'


    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
    To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
    But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
    She shall press, ah, nevermore!


    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
    Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
    Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
    Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


    `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
    Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
    On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
    Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


    `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
    By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


    `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
    `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


    And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
    Shall be lifted - nevermore!

  • 'Der Traum vom Tod' - Seiten 001 - 125

    Zitat

    Original von chiclana


    Das hat mich jetzt weniger begeistert - einfach weil ich feststellen musste, dass ich die beiden Bände vorher nicht mehr so richtig präsent habe...... aber an Micha kann ich mich noch gut erinnern...


    Ja eben deswegen finde ich es ja so gut!
    Man liest so viel im Laufe der Jahre, da vergisst man Einiges wieder. :rolleyes
    Wenn man dann ein paar Schlüsselworte verknüpft mit den bekannten Personen bekommt, fällt mir immer Vieles wieder ein, das ich schon längst vergessen glaubte... :pille