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Summary of JFS
"this is madness!"
"madness? . . . this.is.SPARTA [cough] I mean, FANDOM!"
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Your result for The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test... Tri-Lamb Material
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored better than half in Nerd and Dork, earning you the coveted title of: Tri-Lamb Material. The classic, "80's" nerd, you are what most people think of when they think "nerd," largely due to 80's movies like Revenge of the Nerds and TV shows like Head of the Class. You're exceptionally bright and smart, and partly because of that have never quite fit in with your peers or social groups. Perhaps you've realized, or will someday, that it is possible to retain all of the things that you like about being brilliant and still make peace with the social cliques around you. Or maybe you won't--it's really not necessary. As the brothers of Lambda Lambda Lambda discovered, you're fine just the way you are and can take pride in that. I mean, who wants to be like Ogre, right!? Congratulations! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Professional Wrestling Love & Sexuality America/Politics Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Like you didn't know there would be fic here :) Part Twelve the difference is you Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. ~Dylan Thomas Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten Part Eleven of honor and exile Born after the fall of their father, Izzy and her brother Raiah had never been angels. They’d never known their ancestral home of heaven and every story of that place was so mired in bitterness that they naturally assumed it was a terrible place. The history they’d been taught had been entirely revisionist in nature; God was nameless, faceless, compassionless. Christ was much like the Wizard of Oz with his claims to grandeur fueled only with smoke and mirrors. Earth, they were told, was greater than both heaven and hell and the war they fought was for ownership of what was once a magical place. Humans? Well, suffice it to say, humans were a plague, a throwback to Egypt, more harmful and merciless than locusts. Humans were puppets of the other side and they overran this Eden as if they were anything particularly great. Humans were cattle and killing one was to Izzy as swatting a fly, except with more imbedded fanatical rage. With the childhood stories of the humans’ false dominance. Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine Part Ten cardinal rule of cons John Winchester taught his boys just about everything he knew. Everything in his life had been passed down to them. He had even, as a good father would, learned new things just to teach to them. In his early years of hunting, right after Mary died and money was tight, he accumulated a series of rules key to a wanderer’s survival. The prehistoric method of hunting and gathering meant squat when one hunted demons and gathered little but infamy. The new method involved his brand of hunting, financed by his brand of gathering—a tax, so to say. Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight Part Nine belief in things unseen The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was her face and that sorry-ass look. He was curled up next to his body; half his spirit melded with the flesh, the other half was on his side and in a fetal ball. The most random thought passed through him—did Adam and Eve ever curl up like this? He turned a little away from her and noticed that they weren’t in the Critical Care Unit any more. He was connected to less than half the machines he’d previously been jacked into and he was breathing all on his own. Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six |Seven Part Eight blood and broken feathers Dean lowered his arm and put both hands on his waist. He looked down to the linoleum floor and cursed under his breath. Amitiel watched him curiously before asking, “What’s wrong?” Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Part Seven into the rabbit hole Sam followed the tunnel for miles before a cave-in stopped him in his tracks meters below the Earth’s surface. He stood there, in the dim light of his lantern, in the breathless air and he just stared at the wall of rock before him. His brother was just beyond this wall. He didn’t know how far he was, but he was, just out of reach. He was in the heart of a nine foot wide wormhole that had been made by . . . that thing. It gave him chills just to replay what happened. It was just a blur, a flash of a second but in that blur, in that second, his brother was gone.
( into the rabbit hole ) Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five Part Six a visitor comes calling “Let go of my arm!” Sam snapped, tugging away from who he’d thought had been a weakened convalescing brother, only to be gripped in a death lock the moment Dean heard who was on the other side of the door. Part Five those delusions of grandeur He slept through most of the night, only waking once when he felt the pinch of a needle in his arm. He woke with a start only to be comforted by Sam watching over him, a close eye on the nurse administering the intravenous. He knew it would have to happen eventually and he also knew Sam would wait until he was asleep. Part Four what would freud say He wasn’t afraid of dying. He was afraid of being gone. Being unable to watch out for Sam or protecting him from everything that was crashing all around him. The idea of death didn’t scare him. He knew there was a hell; there must be someplace out there that wasn’t. Even though his own faith wasn’t particularly strong, it wasn’t because he didn’t believe in better things, it was because, mainly, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t reconcile a world that had an all-loving God who could just watch a mother being pinned to her ceiling like a butterfly as she was set on fire with her blood raining down on her children. It wasn’t non-belief in Dean Winchester, it was resentment of indifference and he damn well imagined God and all his hordes of angels as one big apathetic bunch. ( what would freud say ) |
