WELCOME TO THE HOME OF THE GESTALT

This is Penumbris, home to the Gestalt. Before you take a look around, we thought you might want to know a little about us. Because, really, you can never be scared enough. Resistance is useless. You will be assimilated. Have a nice day.

The Gestalt also occasionally functions in multiple personalities, some of which are visible to the public. Davechicken and Shadow Side are the main ones. For convenience, and tax reasons, they have been known to think of themselves as separate, and to make sure some of the voices in their heads don't take over. Their writings can be found here and links they like can be found here.

• The Gestalt

The Gestalt was, at the outset, hardly noticeable. Two people/beings/creatures happened to be introduced, through the marvels of coincidence and so on. They happened to have several things in common. Some of these things were related to science-fiction, fantasy and fandom in general. Some other of these things involved a tendancy to write (or attempt to write). Some of these things involved weaponry, long, dark coats, leather and pain (usually that of others).

For a while, all was as normal. There were long nights of DVD watching (with cheese) socialising (with swords) and talking (with mouths). Then, one day, It Happened.

Most specifically, the Tall One ceased to run away when the Short One squeed about a little thing called slash. Or, to be precise, the Tall One only ran away when the Short One mentioned slash in order to go and write some.

Before long, there were matching swords. Matching sticks. Matching socks. (There had always been socks, and they had often matched, but their significance in the Grand Scheme Of Things was not revealed until later, due to Tension and Suspense.) Then they started to finish one another's sentences. They started to think the same thing, at the same time. They got hungry together. They plotted Stories Of Doom together. They broke teeth together.

They made this website together.

Now they plan to assimilate all those who come in their way. They do this by spreading the Crack, writing the Fic, making the Vids and driving the YarisJumper. There may or may not be knives, alcohol, cookies and more socks. And cheese. But not sockcheese. Ever.

Things, as they say, can only get worse better.

Especially when they start writing together. Then things like Achronism, or Planet of the Dinosaurs happen.

• Penumbris

The Gestalt, surprisingly enough, took its time choosing a name to best fit its identity. Various possibilities were thrown in the air, only to fall back down with a resounding splat. For one thing, neither of the alter-egos had names especially well suited to combining. Shadow Chicken? Dave Side? The Gestalt would like to point out that it is neither a superhero avian with interesting lycra, nor the bloke who does the dodgy late-night radio show.

What could it be, then? What could suitably encapsulate the spirit of stick-waving, fire-lighting, map-dominating, fic-writing moral ambiguity? Why, bad multilingual punning, of course.

Literally, 'penumbra' is the area of partial shadow. It is the slight illumination which divides the light from the dark. It is the hinterland, the border, the.. you get the picture. But also, it is pen-umbris, the pen from the shadow.

Did I mention you might get scared? From the bad jokes if nothing else...

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