[I] The Tale of Westala and Villtin
Marco Villalta
> Orjan Westin wrote:
>> Orjan Westin wrote:
>
> Good morning, everyone. Sorry I slept late, but I did feel a bit
> worn after yesterday's long session.
Indeed. So did I; as tired as I was all day yesterday, I don't
now why I didn't turn in early. I mean, I know the story. After
all, I w-- I've heard it before.
And I still can't believe we talked our way through both lunch
*and* dinner proper. Good job I remembered to get a bite to eat
while you told the story.
> Now let's see. As you know, I'm not much of a breakfast eater,
> so perhaps just a pot of coffee.
>
> <drinks appreciatively>
Oh dear, we're in for another long session. Better ask for a
plate of cold cuts right away, then. Please?
> And a pile of pancakes.
>
> Thank you.
> * * *
>
> So, the fellowship was broken into three parties. I'll let my
> good friend Marco here continue the story.
>
> <takes out pipe, stuffs, lights and puffs>
>
> Go on, you've been silent long enough, man.
Well, you seemed to be on a roll, and I didn't want to interrupt
you. <g>
Hmmm... Yes, that's a good place to leave off. Could take a
while to get there, though, so you'd better get something to
nibble on in the meantime.
* * *
Lowmar looked at the remains of the bridge and pulled his beard
anxiously.
"Well, that's just great! That's sweet, that is! We're in some
pretty trouble now, I tell you! This game is already over!"
Autopet grabbed him by the collar. The Varing didn't often get
annoyed -- about as often as Lowmar was distraught -- but he was
now. "Are you finished?"
"What are we going to do now?" wailed the innkeeper. "What are
we going to do?!"
"Well, if you want to get across the gorge, I can always toss
you. Hm? How about that?"
"Let him go, Goth", Villtin called across the river. "This isn't
getting us anywhere."
"Any suggestions?" asked Newra, leaving Autopet glaring at the
sobbing Lowmar.
Villtin thought about it for a while, looking upstream and
downstream along the river every so often. "Unless anyone has a
better idea -- in which case I want you to speak now or forever
hold your peace -- I'll go back upstream with this damn dragon
and see if the gorge doesn't get more shallow. Maybe the river
is fordable somewhere. You three go on downstream, there might
be another bridge, or the river might calm down and form a pool
that you could raft across, or whatever." He squinted along the
gorge again. "I can't see anything near here, but it's getting
too dark to see properly anyway. Let's say that if we don't find
anything within the next two days, we come back here and think of
some thing else. How's that sound?"
She nodded. "Reasonable. Oh, and if I happen to stumble over
any stupid slaves, can I capture them?" she grinned.
"You do that. We'd better get going as soon as possible, I don't
want to stare into the abyss for too long."
"Right. 'Ill departed by twilight', or something."
"Oh, do shut up. 'See you later, love!'"
"Oi!"
*
Capulette was just about to stop for the night and strike camp,
and reined in her horse. She had chased after Tessan's captors
all day, the only notable event of which had been running into
three of Affor's henchmen. Presumably, they were still lying in
a pained heap on the ground, and would possibly never recover
fully.
She dismounted and lifted the saddlebags off, and was more than a
little surprised to turn and find the man with the black clothes
and leather coat standing nonchalantly ten yards away from her.
"Oh, look, it's the sad bastard again. When did you overtake
me?"
"I didn't. I was here all the time."
Capulette put the bags on the ground, and rested her hand on the
hilt of her weapon. "But I last saw you a day's journey back."
"As well."
"Huh. What, you have a twin brother?"
"No, but distance is just an illusion, like everything else.
When I came to after our last meeting" -- the man had the decency
to look embarassed -- "I decided to wait for you here instead."
Capulette shook her head. "Who are you, anyway?"
The pale man drew his ivory-handled katana. "Well, those who try
to get past me generally know me as 'the barrier'."
Capulette nodded thoughtfully. Then she dived for her pistol
bows and shot at him again. She didn't expect to hit, but
planned to rush him while he dodged the bolts.
He didn't dodge the bolts. Time slowed down as it had before,
but the "Barrier" didn't swerve out of the way. Instead he put
up a hand, like a halting signal.
The bolts slowed down, and stopped. Time got back to normal
speed, but the bolts hung motionless in the air. The Barrier
picked up the frontmost one and studied it breifly, before
dropping it to the ground. He issued a little wave and the other
bolt dropped too.
Capulette glared at him. Then she drew her cavalry sabre and
rushed him anyway.
It was like moving through thick syrup. Her perception of time
felt quite normal, but everything moved ten times slower than
they should, if not more. Except for the Barrier, who moved
unhindered at what Capulette perceived as "normal speed".
Their blades met, and skidded along eachother edge-on as the man
stepped out of the way. Sparks cascaded off the edges. And then
Capulette fell flat to the ground.
The Barrier circled around her. "Want to try that again? You
know, giving up and going back is the only way you'll survive
this."
She got up and attacked him again, this time with less force, not
rushing blindly. Sparks flew each time the blades crossed.
Despite all her skills with the sabre, as quickly as he moved --
or, from her viewpoint, as slowly as *she* moved -- he had no
trouble fending her off.
On the other hand, she found that while she couldn't move very
fast, since her perception of events was unaffected she could
plan her strikes quite well, as well as parry or avoid his blows.
But it was a tiring fight.
She brought her blade around in a fierce swing. The Barrier
swerved out of the way, of course, but it gave her the chance
she'd been waiting for. There was a broken-off tree branch just
next to her.
So while the strange man was still straightening up, Capulette
fought the slow momentum, dropped her weapon, picked up the
branch and swept out the Barrier's feet from under him.
"Dodge this", she grunted.
The man fell on his back, and when the wind was knocked out of
him, time got back to normal. Another whack with the branch sent
him off to dreamland.
*
Villtin could have punched the dragon for being so short-
sightedly stupid back at the bridge, but it had given him a
double hiss -- with one mouth inside the other -- and he'd
thought better of it.
He had to admit, though, that it had been very handy for
splitting logs to make firewood. He now sat tending to a roaring
campfire, the dragon curled up asleep some way away.
Villtin put another log on the fire, and sighed. For all his
assertions to the rest of the fellowship, reality was beginning
to set in. He'd seen for himself how deep the ravine under the
bridge had been, and there was simply no way that anyone could
survive such a fall. Except possibly if there was a deep pool of
water down below, but what were the chances of that?
Still, he simply would not accept that Westala was dead with any
less that being presented with a corpse. What he really wanted
to do was go back inside the caves and search for his friend,
even if he had to turn the mountain upside-down and tear the
place to pieces in the process. But he knew that it was a
practical impossibility, especially right now.
He looked up at the dark shape of the mountain. He glared at it.
And put another log on the fire.
*
Another roaring campfire.
Newra didn't have a dragon to prepare firewood, but she had a
warrior from the North and an innkeeper and that worked quite as
well.
"What a gods-forsaken place", she muttered, mostly to the air.
"I've crossed parts of these lands before, and never seen any
reason to go slow."
"I can't understand why it's so empty", said Lowmar. "There's
healthy grass and shrubbery everywhere I look, you'd think
there'd be something living of it."
"Oh, there is game, just not much of it. And mostly it's small,
I haven't seen tracks of anything bigger than a hare. I guess
the animals share my sentiment about this place; it's bloody
depressing."
"Well, we could do with coming across something soon, we're
running a bit low on supplies. We had to leave too much behind
with the cart, and then we lost more in the caves."
"Yes, but we shouldn't be very far from the fort now", said the
Varing. "We'll raid the larder on the way out."
"How far, do you think?" asked Newra.
"Can't be much more than twelve, thirteen miles, as the crow
flies. If only we can cross the river, we should be there before
the end of tomorrow, I think."
"Good. Gah! All this talk about food has made me more hungry.
I'd kill for a chocolate cake right now."
"Funny you should say that", said Lowmar, "because I had actually
brought a couple of bars of chocolate. I don't think I could
whip up a cake out here, but chocolate is always chocolate."
"That it is. So where is it now?"
"In the stuff we left with the cart."
"What?! You brought along rotten herring but no chocolate? What
the hell kind of prioritising is that?"
"Well I didn't *know* the herring had gone bad, did I? And
herring is more nutritious than chocolate."
Newra looked like she could have killed even without a cake, but
restrained herself. Lowmar quickly changed the subject.
"Any bets on who'll find a way to cross the river first, us or
Villtin?"
"Unless we're closer to something, my money's on Villtin", said
Autopet. "Man walks pretty fast."
Lowmar grinned. "I've noticed. Is he in a permanent hurry, or
what is it?"
"And how do you think he's holding up?" asked Newra. "Maybe it
wasn't such a good idea to leave him alone."
"Why, are you worried?"
She nodded. "Bit concerned, yeah. I know what you told us
before, but still. I wouldn't want anyone to be alone after
their best friend just died."
"Oh, he'll be all right", said the Varing brightly. "He's doing
just fine."
*
The Dog trotted down an empty alley close to the Cult of Me's
quarters. Like most of the streets in the city, it was devoid of
movement at this time of night. Uncharacteristic for this
usually lively city, and so Dog, who quite liked the bustling of
the place, was glad to take part in an attempt to get rid of the
cause.
Not entirely devoid of movement.
Out of a side alley padded a grey cat. It stopped dead in its
tracks when it saw the huge dog.
There was one of those wonderful moments when cat and dog just
notice one another, are forced to acknowledge that what's in
front of them actually exists, and size each other up. It's
somewhat similar to a time-freeze picture, only in real time.
Dog took a leap forward. Intelligence had taken a back seat to
instinct on this one.
"Mreeoww!" the grey cat screeched, and took off along the
streets.
The Marina Dog bounded after it. The chase took the barking mad
canine following the startled monochrome feline halfway across
town, in and out of alleys, up and down stairways, dodging the
occasional stroller who had braved the city's mood -- and who
threw themselves flat against the walls as the pair thundered
past.
In the end the grey cat took a wrong turn into a dead end. But
although it was left lost for escape routes, it wasn't left lost
for options. As Dog closed in, it clambered up a drainpipe,
jumped off and made a backflip. Two and a half backwards
somersaults, one and a half spin, pike formation.
It landed on the dog's back, and, with a speed that would have
put a snake to shame, reached down below with a set of claws.
Dog froze up instantly. And that's the great thing about
intelligence: when instinct fails, it's there to catch you. Very
slowly, he turned his head and looked at the cat glaring back at
him. He whined softly, as if to say, "Ah. Yes, I get your
point. All five of them, in fact. Well put."
Carefully, she slipped down to the ground with a soft mewling:
"So long as we understand each other."
*
Westala woke up, and did the bodily check-up your sub-conscious
does every morning:[1] all limbs and extremities present and
accounted for, although most of them extremely sore. One head,
albeit with a splitting headache. Throat and skin very dry, eyes
irritated.
Not the best of mornings, then.
Mind unpleasantly slow, memory a gaping hole. He didn't know
where he was or what he was doing there; he could only just
remember who he was.
Definitely a bad start of the day.
He sat up, slowly and with much effort, and was surprised to find
the softness of a blanket around him. He blinked a few times,
which seemed to help his eyes.
He was as white as a ghost. Hadn't expected that. He certainly
didn't think he was dead, and his aching body agreed with him.
Further investigation showed that he was covered in chalk, but he
was at a loss to find a good reason for this state of affairs.
He took in his surroundings, which seemed to consist of a small
clearing in a dense forest and the remains of a campfire. He
could hear the trickling of a stream quite nearby, and indeed,
through a gap between the trees he could see it coming down the
mountain, far away in the distance. Right on the edge of hearing
he thought he could make out the roar of a river.
The mountain seemed to spark off a memory, although he wasn't
sure what of. But when he saw the Dancing Rodent, sitting asleep
with her back against a tree, his recollections of the previous
night began to trickle back.
What was a Dancing Rodent? He didn't know, but apparently this
girl was one. A cult... a female death-cult, yes, reputed for
killing men in sensually inventive ways. And now they were out
to kill him and... He hesitated. His friends?
Who had been with him?
But this girl had tended to him, last night. Cared for him,
given him water, kept the fire going.
Westala found that an odd way of trying to kill someone. Of
course, it was entirely possible that she was just waiting for
him to regain his full mental acuity to make the kill more of a
challenge, but he deemed it unlikely.
She stirred and woke up. As soon as her sub-conscious had
finished its start-up body audit, she opened her eyes and looked
around.
"Oh. You're up."
"On... only just now." Westala's voice was still hoarse from his
dry throat. Her initial nervousness calmed, the girl offered him
her water bottle. He drank gratefully.
"How do you feel?"
"Better now. But I don't remember much of anything beyond last
night."
Her mouth dropped open. "You've lost your memory?!" It came out
as a whisper.
His brow furrowed with thought. "No", he said eventually, "not
lost. Not exactly. Feels more like it's... misplaced. It's
like..." He waved his hands vaguely in the air. "... it's all
out there, but I can't find it. I can feel the shape of it, but
I can't reach it."
He looked her in the eyes. "Like you, for instance. I can't
help thinking that you're supposed to be trying to kill me.
Instead, you nursed me, last night. You probably saved my life.
Why?"
She sighed, wondering where to start.
"How much *do* you remember?"
"I remember finding you. I remember walking towards the light of
your campfire. Not in great detail, though, because I was a bit
dazed."
"You looked as much."
"Thank you", he smiled wryly. His gaze fell on the staff he
still held tightly in his hand. "I remember the elfin man who
gave this to me, and finding my way out of the mountain. And
before that, a sensation of... falling...?"
Only a slight change in the tone of voice suggested that the
latter was a question, but he looked at her inquiringly. And now
she had a place to start.
"You did fall. You were up on a narrow bridge in a great cave in
the mountain. My Mistress chose that place to kill you all, but
instead you killed..." She stopped. "No, actually you didn't.
I have to be honest at least with myself. You *stood up to* my
Mistress with such might that she could not control herself, and
she fell into the chasm. Then Sherilob came, and dragged you
down too."
"The false straw-man collar. I shouldn't have taken it off."
"What?"
He stared ahead of him. "I'm not sure. It... tricks Sherilob
somehow, but I can't remember why."
He took a deep breath. "Even on the way down, the spider tried
to kill me. It hauled me in on its line, like a fisherman. But
I managed to break some of its legs and its jaws, and tear free
from the web. Then I... I caught a reflection in something
further down, something lighter against the deep dark. I think I
*jumped off* the spider, towards that lighter spot."
He looked at his white-covered person. "Turned out to be water.
I nearly lost consciousness when I hit it, I guess I'm lucky I
didn't break my neck. After that, everything became a bit hazy.
I don't know how long I fought to get back to the surface, or how
long it was until I met the elvish man."
The Dancing Rodent stared at him, her mouth ajar. His relating
of the events had been dead calm, with a hint of fascination at
how much he could remember of them. She was awe-struck at this
display of composure, and sought in vain for a suitable comment.
"Oh!" didn't quite seem to cut it.
"They're all right. Your friends, they're all right." She grew
anxious by his blank look. "Don't you remember them?"
He didn't answer immediately, and it worried her. "I remember
that there were people with me", he said eventually. "And I
remember that they are good friends of mine. But I don't
remember anything about them."
She was pinned down by those pale blue eyes. "But you say that
they're all right?"
"Yes." She realised she was whispering. "Yes, they got out of
the mountain and came into the forest here, they're all right. I
saw them camp by the stream you hear now, and I followed them
into the woods."
"To kill them?"
She couldn't look him in the eyes. "Up until yesterday, yes.
That was my intention. But I couldn't have done it without my
Mistress, and even before meeting you last night... I don't
think I have it in me."
"That's good enough for now." He reached out and put a hand on
her shoulder. "What's your name, by the way?"
This time it was her brow that furrowed. "I haven't been called
by my real name for a long time. They give you a new name when
you join the Conga Rats, see, to show that you have moved beyond
your old life."
"Seems like I'm not the only one here who has memory problems,
then." He smiled faintly. "Well, what did they call you, then?"
"Mega Vole", she said with a hint of defiance, as if daring him
to make a mockery of it. But he just smiled wider, and kindly.
"I like it. It's a name with potential. I'm Westala."
They shook hands. Then they looked at the white smears Westala
left on everything he touched.
"You should be called Grease", Mega Vole teased.
"Argh, please don't."
"Why not?"
"I don't know why, but I remember being utterly fed up with it.
Look, I need to have a wash. We'll have to get the fire going
again, so I can dry my clothes."
"I can take care of that. But are you sure you want to wash in
the stream? The water is cold!"
Westala grinned widely.
"*Not* a problem!"
*
Capulette was quite sure that she had tightened the ropes quite
securely. She had tied the Barrier up very well. Nevertheless,
he was gone, and the ropes lay on the ground as if he'd just
evaporated out of them.
Something Capulette found just as odd was that he hadn't killed
her in her sleep. If he had been able to get loose, he'd have
had every opportunity, and if he worked for Affor, he'd have
every motive. Of course, she knew that there were warriors who
wouldn't kill someone who couldn't fight back, but she hadn't
expected it from one of Affor's henchmen. If that's what he was.
Whatever his reason was, though, she didn't worry too much about
it. She doubted she'd seen the last of him, if she continued
hunting Tessan's captors. Which she intended to.
"Another time, Barrier", she muttered.
*
Villtin had walked for about three hours, come midday. He'd
found what he'd been hoping for.
The forest had ended after only about five miles, he guessed,
just over a third of the way he figured he'd covered so far.
After a few twists and turns of the river he had emerged onto a
plain. He'd passed a few rapids, above which the water had been
ever closer to the level of the plain, and here finally he'd
found a ford.
The river was much wider here, and quite fast-running, but only a
few feet deep. Villtin looked back along it, down towards the
distant suggestion of the forest, then across it towards the
opposite bank, and addressed the dragon but mostly the world at
large.
"Right, I guess we have to decide which way to go now. I think
we can manage to catch up with the others if we move fast enough,
assuming they haven't already found a way of crossing downstream.
If they have, though, then we'll have ended up on opposite sides
of the river again, and mighty silly we would look then, wouldn't
we? Then again, they can go ahead to the fort and do a lot more
than we can. But of course it would be good if we could...
regroup, be together."
He surveyed the landscape again. It was a boring landscape, but
the only available one.
"Oh, sod it. Come on." And with much swearing at the contact
with the cold stream, he walked down into the river.
When the splish-splash of the dragon behind him stopped, he
turned to find it looking intently into the water, the end of its
tail hovering a few feet above the surface. Suddenly it shot
down with barely a ripple, and when it came up again there was a
wriggling fish skewered on it. The dragon caught it quickly and
started munching away.
"Oh, you like fish, don't you? Certainly looks like it's very
precious to you."
The dragon tilted its head towards him.
"And you can stop staring at me like that. Do you know how
unnerving it is to be stared at by someone who has no eyes? Now
catch a few more for supper, and then get a move on."
He started walking again, and to a random observer he looked as
composed and casual as he always was. Until you realised that he
carefully avoided setting his eyes on the mountain in front of
him.
*
Westala and Mega Vole made their way between the trees. The cold
bath had brought back more memories, mainly from his childhood in
the North. His spirits rose at the same pace as his
recollections returned, and moreover this forest was quite light
and pleasant, unlike the dark woods he could vaguely remember
from just a few days ago. Presently he leaned on the walking
staff and looked up at the tree-top city.
"For some reason, I keep expecting to see Peterwok up there."
"Pete... what, the mad doctor on Chopping Street?"
"Yes. I think I know him, at least I've met him a couple of
times. Um... you said he lives on Chopping Street, right?"
"Yes."
"That's the one off Simple Street, isn't it?"
"No, it's off Affordable Street."
"Ah, right. It runs in *parallell* with with Simple Street, and
crosses New Pounders, correct?"
"Yes, now you're right."
"Good. Me and street names..." He shook his head.
"Do you want to stop here to eat?"
"No, let's get down to the river first. It can't be far now."
He shifted his weight off the staff and resumed walking. Not
long ago, he knew, he had leaned in the same way on a spear of
fine quality. Well, shit happens.
They reached the river, quite near the remains of an old rickety
bridge, and like the fellowship before them they wondered how to
get across. The sides of the were too deep and steep to climb,
Mega Vole pointed out, and even if they hadn't been, the river
ran too fast.
"Eep!" said Westala.
"Yes, that's my reac--" She stopped as her brain replayed the
alliteration at her. "Now, don't be naughty", she grinned.
"Or what, you'll make me go to sleep?"
"Without dessert!" She waved a finger sternly at him, before
turning back to the river. "I think there is a quay some way
upstream. Or perhaps *was* is more correct to say. The ferrying
must have ceased long ago, so they couldn't have crossed there.
Do you think they went upstream or downstream?"
But Westala wasn't listening.
He was sniffing the air.
"I *know* this smell!" he said, and stalked off upstream.
Mega Vole almost had to run to keep up. In the weak wind,
following the flow of the river, she picked up a faint but bad
smell. Her nose wrinkled.
"Where *ever* do you know this from? It's awful!"
"I know! I never thought I'd actually be glad to smell it!"
The Northman stopped, sniffed around carefully, corrected his
direction and set off again. Eventually, he slowed to a halt and
kneeled down by a piece of rock. It had a bleached scorch mark
on it.
"It's corroded!" the girl behind him exclaimed. "What in the
name of Sume Anders corrodes rock like that?"
Westala took a deep sniff. "Surströmming", he said absently.
"What?"
"Sorry, that's 'sour herring', insufficently preserved herring
that has fermented and gone rotten. There's a tribe of people up
north, the Dalamas, who regard it a delicacy."
"I can't say I understand them. I maintain that it's awful."
"It's absolutely foul." He smelled the stone again. "The
innkeeper who was with us had brought a few kegs of herring.
We're on the right track."
"The innkeeper?"
"Yes. We weren't too keen on letting him come, but he insisted.
If only I could remember his name! He's not a tall person, I
know that much. But he's not precisely short, either -- he's
more sort of low... Low..."
Mega Vole looked helplessly at him. Then a name she'd overheard
in the Magdala caves drifted through her mind and waved for
attention.
"Lowmar?"
"Yes! Yes, Lowmar. We rescued his daughter from a slaver once.
Oh, and Goth, Autopet, was with us also. I'd be damned if I
don't remember him, we grew up together. And then... uh... the
woman... and my brother in arms, who has been my companion in
more battles than I care to remember... than I *can* remember,
right now..."
He snapped his fingers irritably, and Mega Vole gave him a sad,
pitiful look. Carefully, the girl put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm afraid I can't help you with the woman. The only name I
know for sure is that of the young man, since he was our other...
um."
She trailed off. With some degree of sarcasm, he gestured for
her to continue, which of course only made her more embarrassed.
"... intended target."
"So-o-o? What is his name, then?"
"Villtin."
"Villtin", Westala repeated flatly. "Right."
"You don't remember him?"
"Not a lot of bells ringing yet, no. Ironic, isn't it? The one
person I feel I really should remember, apart from Goth, I can't.
Go figure."
"How can you be so calm about it?"
"Well, at least I know that my memories *are* returning.
Hopefully it's only a matter of time before they're all back."
The Conga-Rat shrugged. "If you say so. I wish I could be as
philosophical about it if I were in your place."
"Anyway, with a bit of luck we'll soon catch up with them, and
then I can ask them about anything I can't remember."
"That's true. Well, then I ask you again: should we go upstream
or downstream? Your guess is probably better than mine."
Westala looked up and down the river, stroking his beard. "I
really have no idea. But they couldn't have used that bridge,
and we know they came through here. Let's go on upstream."
"All right. We should stop to eat soon, too, but I'd prefer
somewhere less... whiffy."
"Good point. I wonder why they threw away a herring keg there."
"To get rid of the smell?"
"No-- well, *yes*, but why smash it against a rock first, in that
case? They could have just dropped it in the river, or left it
behind in some place."
"Well, I don't know. I guess they had their reasons."
*
"I swear", said Gideoallet, "sometimes Peterwok just gets *too*
weird."
"Why, what did he do now?" said Tily. They were out on one of
their many walks around the city to see to that the fear and
distrust didn't get entirely out of hand. It didn't right now,
the visit of the High Priest of the Temple of Afpdor had livened
up the atmosphere somewhat.
"When I met with him this morning, he was unloading a cartload of
frogs. Said he needed them for some kind of experiments. I
thought his experiments mainly involved grinding up mice, but he
told me 'Normally, yes, but sometimes frogs are better'."
"What were the experiments about?"
"Look, I didn't have Messy with me to translate his gobbletygook,
so I have no idea. He said something about sticking copper and
zinc rods in a lemon." The swordsman shrugged.
"What's that got to do with frogs?"
"Search me. I'm not sure I *want* to know. Oh, and he mentioned
drying their skin. And when I was leaving, he asked me if I knew
a good toy-clothes maker."
"You mean he wanted dolls' clothes?"
"Small silk trousers. To put on the frogs. I said, 'but frogs
don't normally wear clothes', and he said, 'precisely, that's the
point'."
"Did you smell boiling mercury around the place?"
"It would have been slightly less disturbing if I had."
*
A smirk played on Westala's face while he prepared a meager meal.
"What's so funny?" wondered Mega Vole. The swordsman looked at
her, and the smirk turned into an expression of growing panic.
"Um. I just remembered something about Villtin. Er... I'm
afraid he's a bit of a womaniser."
The girl gave him a look of polite incomprehension.
"Many of the female persons he comes across are subjected to his
attempts of seductions, is what I mean." And now the longness of
worry was developing on her face as well.
"You mean he might..."
"Yes, precisely. Then again, maybe not -- there's another
possibility that you may find even worse. He may try to kill
you. He's never taken very kindly to people who are out to kill
him."
"But I'm not! Not anymore!"
"I doubt he'll stop and listen long enough to find out. And
remember, they saw me fall into that chasm, and I only survived
that out of blind luck. So you might want to stay back a bit
until I've explained the situation."
"But... but... What about that woman? She was trying to kill
him too!"
"Yes, but not very seriously. And we quickly discovered that we
have common ambitions. Now, make no mistake -- Villtin doesn't
trust Newra, even though he's got the hots for her."
"Newra?"
"Yeah, I remember who she is now, I forgot about that. She's
Newra the Moonlight Raider."
"That was the Moonlight Raider?!"
"You know about her?"
"Why, of course! Even though she does not properly hate men, her
displays of female strength have made her well respected among
Rodents. *Everyone* knows about her."
"But no-one told you she was with us?"
"No..." She fell silent. She'd already done the maths, but the
bottom line was not showing her something she really liked to
see.
Westala said nothing. He couldn't think of anything *to* say.
And so the few crumbs of bread and slices of watery sausage
proceeded in silence. Until the Dancing Rodent stopped her hand
halfway to her mouth.
"Westala...?"
"What is it?"
"You're an accustomed outdoors person..." The girl had something
on her mind.
"Yes, that would be fair to say. Guilty as charged."
"How long ago do you think that bridge fell?"
There was a pause.
"Hard to say with rope-and-plank bridges that old, really", he
replied brightly. "Could have fallen any time between twenty
years ago and yesterday."
"Yesterday?"
There was an altogether too long pause.
"No."
"No."
*
The good news was that they'd found a way over the gorge. The
bad news was that it was an arc of rock, which looked anything
but safe.
"I've just about had enough of narrow stone bridges", said
Lowmar. They too had left the forest behind, and reached more
rocky country. Here, as the river had carved its course through
the shale, it had left a natural arc behind.
"I couldn't agree more", said Newra, "but it seems like the only
option we've got."
The Varing was poking at the stone with Westala's spear. Flakes
and crumbs broke off and fell down with every touch.
"I'll go last", he said. "I think it will hold, but I'm afraid
if I go first there'll be tensions in the arc so that it won't
support either of you afterwards."
Newra stepped out on the bridge. She thought she could hear it
creak, but decided it must have been in her imagination. She
walked softly on, shale flaking under her feet, and got herself
across.
Lowmar next. He treaded carefully out, and although flaking
profusely, the shale held. Until he was on top of the arc.
A chunk of rock broke from under his foot. Spilling no time to
think, he lunged himself forward and landed on all fours. His
face chalk white, he tried to spread his weight out while at the
same time not moving a muscle. The bridge creaked and groaned,
but held together. Slowly, he could crawl to safety.
There were big cracks in the rock now. Autopet looked at them
with a calculating expression.
"It'll hold!" he called to the others. "Catch this!" He took
off his backpack, swung it over his head, and threw it clean
across the ravine. The spear followed shortly after. "Now get
away from the bridge!"
Newra and Lowmar saw him back off twenty yards to get a good run-
up.
"Hyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!"
He sprinted like a fast-train. The bridge crumbed, then broke,
and started to collapse. Autopet didn't slow down -- if
anything, he ran even faster. He managed to stay ahead of the
crumbling rock until he had five yards left, and made a mad leap.
He landed on the edge of the cliff and rolled forward, just a
moment before the last piece of the arc broke off and fell.
Lowmar and Newra gave him a hand up.
"See? Told you it'd hold."
"Yeah, right", said Newra. "We'll obviously not be coming back
this way. I hope Villtin has found another way to cross."
"Told you it'd hold!" The Varing grinned maniacally. "Prove me
wrong!"
*
Westala and Mega Vole were emphatically not discussing fallen
bridges. Which, since that was nagging on both their minds,
meant that what few safe conversation topics they could come up
with were quickly exhausted.
Not that they didn't try.
"That city in the tree-tops we saw..." said Westala. "I wonder
if the people who lived there were big on sports."
"What kind of sports could they have done there?"
"Damned if I know, but I do know that people have managed to
think up recreational activities for virtually every habitat.
There's no reason the people that lived here couldn't have had
'Forest Games' to crown a Sylvan Champion, or something."
"Well, I guess not."
Silence. Again.
Westala took in the surroundings. "Looks like were coming out of
the woods. I wonder how long it'll be before we find a way to
cross the river."
Mega Vole was pointing straight ahead. "Westala, look!"
*
Villtin had walked for another two hours, after a quick lunch of
dragon-speared fish. Now he had about three hundred yards left
to enter the forest.
Which someone was coming out of.
Even at this distance, Villtin *knew* who one of them was, and
started running. He could see the person who *must* be Westala,
if there was an ounce of fairness in the world, look around
himself. The female figure next to him looked like a Dancing
Rodent.
Like he cared about *that* right now.
The girl raised her hand and pointed at him. The man followed
her gaze, and started running too.
At fifty yards apart, Villtin slowed to a walk, breathing
heavily. He still didn't dare trust his eyes as he went up to
Westala.
And grabbed him by the collar and waved a finger in his face.
"Don't you *ever* pull a stunt like that again!"
And then he embrace him. When he spoke, it was a whisper. "Damn
it, Joran, you scared me!"
"Gotta keep you on your toes, Ramoc", the Northman smiled.
"I knew you weren't dead", said Villtin, letting go.
"Yeah, right. Like you could tell. What are you now, a lover in
an old romance?"
"Oh, shaddup. Stop mocking me and tell me how you survived
instead, ya big oaf."
"Largely thanks to her", said Westala and indicated the
approaching Rodent. "So I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't kill
her."
"All right. How about--"
"No."
"Aww."
Westala ruffled Villtin's hair. "I'm glad to see you alive too.
You know, there was an old bridge about five or six miles back.
We were worried you might have been on it."
"We were, sort of. It fell thanks to that stupid creature over
there. I'd already gone over, but Autopet, Newra and Lowmar were
on it when it fell. But they're all right, they managed to get
up again."
"Where are they now?"
"They wen't downstream, we split up to look for another way to
cross the river."
"You obviously found one. What are you doing back here?"
"I thought I'd try to catch up with them, in case they didn't
find anything. But screw that now, the four of us can go ahead
and take on Bos and Ballong if need be. There's a ford about two
hour's walk from here."
"Yeah, two hours at your speed."
"Oh, shut up and get moving."
* * *
<takes a large bite>
I'm forry, but I'm hun'ry. I'll jus' have a sammich and 'en I'll
continue.
--------
[1] When you wake up at 4am and forget who you are, it's because
this check-up was never executed.
--
Marco Villalta
Happy Birthday, Örjan!
CCA
[Snip tale installment]
Okay, annotation coming up so I'll leave a space...
.
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>"Oh, you like fish, don't you? Certainly looks like it's very
>precious to you."
Gollum in LOTR catching fish?
[The Barrier]
>The pale man drew his ivory-handled katana.
Something about this makes me think of Torak, (in that The Barrier uses a
katana) but I'm probably well wrong there.
> 'Ill departed by twilight'
'Ill met by moonlight' (Titania and Oberon in Midsummer Night's Dream)
[Newra]
>"Reasonable. Oh, and if I happen to stumble over
>any stupid slaves, can I capture them?" she grinned.
I *know* this points to something...but my brain isn't telling me what...
>"Well, if you want to get across the gorge, I can always toss
>you. Hm? How about that?"
Gimli in LOTR - "Nobody tosses a dwarf!"
CCA:)
--
Family Bites Website and sample chapter at http://www.falboroughhall.co.uk
Live Journal at http://www.livejournal.com/users/ciciaye
jester
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>The pale man drew his ivory-handled katana. "Well, those who try
>to get past me generally know me as 'the barrier'."
*THWAP*
>The Marina Dog bounded after it. The chase took the barking mad
>canine
You're relying on him not reading afp any more, aren't you?
--
Andy Brown
Command, n.:
Statement presented by a human and accepted by a computer in
such a manner as to make the human feel as if he is in control.
jester
<sphi...@aol.com> wrote:
>Marco Villalta wrote
>
>[Snip tale installment]
>
>Okay, annotation coming up so I'll leave a space...
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>
>
>katana) but I'm probably well wrong there.
You are. The Official Sad Bastard Barry R is known for that particular
weapon (and his cycle leathers 8-)
He's also very well known for not looking anything like Neo in the
Matrix, honest.
(didn't we do that annotation last time?)
--
Andy Brown
Windows95 (noun): 32 bit extensions and a graphical shell for a 16 bit
patch to an 8 bit operating system originally coded for a 4 bit microprocessor,
written by a 2 bit company, that can't stand 1 bit of competition.
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>> The pale man drew his ivory-handled katana. "Well, those who try
>> to get past me generally know me as 'the barrier'."
>
> *THWAP*
Exactly the reaction I was aiming for. <g>
>> The Marina Dog bounded after it. The chase took the barking mad
>> canine
>
> You're relying on him not reading afp any more, aren't you?
No, but I am digging a bunker.
--
Marco Villalta -- afpStuff in headers
Marco Villalta
... which is the worst one yet...
> Okay, annotation coming up so I'll leave a space...
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
> .
>
>> "Oh, you like fish, don't you? Certainly looks like it's very
>> precious to you."
>
> Gollum in LOTR catching fish?
Yep.
> [The Barrier]
>> The pale man drew his ivory-handled katana.
>
> Something about this makes me think of Torak, (in that The Barrier
> uses a katana) but I'm probably well wrong there.
Yes, it's not Torak. See previous annotations for Capulette's
last encounter with "the official sad bastard". Jester has, I
believe, seen the pun. :-)
I still intend to refer to Torak, but I again warn that it will
be *way* out of character. There is a specific reference, is all
I'm saying.
>> 'Ill departed by twilight'
>
> 'Ill met by moonlight' (Titania and Oberon in Midsummer Night's
> Dream)
Yes. Don't ask me why, though. I just thought it was
appropriate, somehow.
> [Newra]
>> "Reasonable. Oh, and if I happen to stumble over
>> any stupid slaves, can I capture them?" she grinned.
>
> I *know* this points to something...but my brain isn't telling
> me what...
Only because it's been six months since the last instalment.
Orjan wrote about a bridge at the river quay.
>> "Well, if you want to get across the gorge, I can always toss
>> you. Hm? How about that?"
>
> Gimli in LOTR - "Nobody tosses a dwarf!"
Correct. But the whole scene here is a reference to another
movie.
Stacie Hanes
<snip tale>
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..
Er. Hope I'm doing this rightly....
The first scene looks like _Aliens_ and the dragon is an alien.
Um?
--
Stacie, fourth swordswoman of the afpocalypse.
"If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be a horrible
warning." Catherine Aird, _His Burial Too_
"swordswomen of the afpocalypse" copyright Jon of afp, 2004.
Orjan Westin
> I'm forry, but I'm hun'ry. I'll jus' have a sammich and 'en I'll
> continue.
Oh, there's more? I'll keep my fingers off until you hand it over, then.
Very good, so far. Although the Sylvan Champion deserves another *THWAP*
> Happy Birthday, Örjan!
Thank you very much, it is the best surprise I've received today.
I also got a BeyBlade (from son), a new mouse (much needed and very nice,
from daughter, but kind of anticipated after some of her leading questions,
like "Wouldn't you like to have an optical mouse, dad?") and a great axe in
the back (yes, we had a show today).
Orjan
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta wrote:
>
>> I'm forry, but I'm hun'ry. I'll jus' have a sammich and 'en I'll
>> continue.
>
> Oh, there's more? I'll keep my fingers off until you hand it
> over, then.
Yes, there are about five hundred lines again,[1] so hands off!
> Very good, so far. Although the Sylvan Champion deserves another
> *THWAP*
<grin>
>> Happy Birthday, Örjan!
>
> Thank you very much, it is the best surprise I've received today.
>
> I also got a BeyBlade (from son), a new mouse (much needed and
> very nice, from daughter, but kind of anticipated after some of
> her leading questions, like "Wouldn't you like to have an optical
> mouse, dad?")
<jealous>
If the g_dd_mn PS/2 port on this laptop actually worked, I could
use the nice little optical I have too...
> and a great axe in the back (yes, we had a show today).
Um. Get well soon?
--------
[1] The installment I thought would be "about 700 lines" turned
out to be almost 800. The one I said would be "at least as long"
turned out to be over a thousand.[2] I have no idea how long
part two of this installment will really be, but 500 lines sounds
good.
[2] I haven't found any way of telling how long a post will be
until I download it back from the server.
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta wrote:
> <snip tale>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> The first scene looks like _Aliens_
Yes. I know, I've referred to it before, but it's a good movie
and it's so easy to play on it...
> and the dragon is an alien.
Correct again. Cf. previous annotations.
> Um?
Confused yet? Don't worry, you will be.
raymond larsson
Villalta says...
> >> 'Ill departed by twilight'
> >
> > 'Ill met by moonlight' (Titania and Oberon in Midsummer Night's
> > Dream)
>
> Yes. Don't ask me why, though. I just thought it was
> appropriate, somehow.
that line is also the source for the title of a tale where two familiar
seeming characters meet, "Ill Met in Lankhmar".
--
rgl
"Bother!" Pooh said. "I was born with the curse of a golden voice"
Caroline Alexander
> > Happy Birthday, Örjan!
Oh is it? Well then..
... Viel Glück und viel Segen
auf all Deinen Wegen
Gesundheit und Frohsinn
sei auch mit dabei...
<repeat till nausea>
--
Carl.
Orjan Westin
> Orjan Westin <nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>
>>> Happy Birthday, Örjan!
>
> Oh is it?
Was yesterday.
> ... Viel Glück und viel Segen
> auf all Deinen Wegen
> Gesundheit und Frohsinn
> sei auch mit dabei...
... Much luck and much benediction
on all your ways
health and sense of glad
are also also thereby...
(according to babelfish).
Thank you.
Orjan
CCA
>Very good, so far. Although the Sylvan Champion deserves another *THWAP*
I didn't notice that one!
*Goes back and reads again*
Orjan Westin
>> over, then.
>
> Yes, there are about five hundred lines again,[1] so hands off!
MuttermuttermutterIwannawritemuttergrumble
Oh, well, I'll just have to finish that play instead.
>> and a great axe in the back (yes, we had a show today).
>
> Um. Get well soon?
<g> As the motto goes: "These are our friends, so we don't want to hurt
them. Just kill them."
It's all right, I won most of my fights anyway.
> [1] The installment I thought would be "about 700 lines" turned
> out to be almost 800. The one I said would be "at least as long"
> turned out to be over a thousand.[2] I have no idea how long
> part two of this installment will really be, but 500 lines sounds
> good.
And when is it due, do you reckon (knowing that this is an estimate you've
had as much problems with as the length one)?
> [2] I haven't found any way of telling how long a post will be
> until I download it back from the server.
Copy everything into some app that counts lines, like Word or whatever.
Personally, I prefer word count.
Orjan
Graycat
Graycat
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
Yay!! I'll get it up and annotated monday, or tuesday.
SteveD
electrons together and said:
[snippets from The Tale]
> the man with the black clothes and leather coat
>He didn't dodge the bolts. Time slowed down as it had before,
>but the "Barrier" didn't swerve out of the way. Instead he put
>up a hand, like a halting signal.
>
>The bolts slowed down, and stopped. Time got back to normal
>speed, but the bolts hung motionless in the air. The Barrier
>picked up the frontmost one and studied it breifly, before
>dropping it to the ground. He issued a little wave and the other
>bolt dropped too.
>
>Capulette glared at him. Then she drew her cavalry sabre and
>rushed him anyway.
>
>It was like moving through thick syrup. Her perception of time
>felt quite normal, but everything moved ten times slower than
>they should, if not more. Except for the Barrier, who moved
>unhindered at what Capulette perceived as "normal speed".
>"Dodge this", she grunted.
Do I really need to join the dots? No? Foine, foine...
-SteveD
Torak
>
> I still intend to refer to Torak, but I again warn that it will
> be *way* out of character. There is a specific reference, is all
> I'm saying.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear... Go on, gie's a clue!
Marco Villalta
No.
And as it turns out, it may not be me who does it.
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta wrote:
>> Orjan Westin <nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>>
>>> Oh, there's more? I'll keep my fingers off until you hand it
>>> over, then.
>>
>> Yes, there are about five hundred lines again,[1] so hands off!
>
> MuttermuttermutterIwannawritemuttergrumble
I know, but so far in this installment nothing much has actually
*happened*, and I think it would be nice if something would. Now
that the drama is out of the way, I can move on to a bit of
action. Or, more honestly, some preparations for the action.
>> [1] The installment I thought would be "about 700 lines" turned
>> out to be almost 800. The one I said would be "at least as long"
>> turned out to be over a thousand.[2] I have no idea how long
>> part two of this installment will really be, but 500 lines sounds
>> good.
>
> And when is it due, do you reckon (knowing that this is an
> estimate you've had as much problems with as the length one)?
Heh. Not in six months' time, at least. Now I've had some
practise, and can probably get it done in only *five* months!
I thought I'd wait about a week, to leave a bit of room for the
annotating. Not that there is a whole lot to annotate this time
'round, but...
>> [2] I haven't found any way of telling how long a post will be
>> until I download it back from the server.
>
> Copy everything into some app that counts lines, like Word or
> whatever. Personally, I prefer word count.
In fiction situations I agree, especially since my lines are
shorter than yours. I'd agree in general NG-posting situations
too, but lines is what newsreaders count. Mine does, at least.
And I'm too lazy to change it.
(B'sides, the suspense from wondering how long a post will be is
not to be sneezed at.)
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta says...
>> CCA <sphi...@aol.com> wrote:
>>> Marco Villalta wrote
>
>>>> 'Ill departed by twilight'
>>>
>>> 'Ill met by moonlight' (Titania and Oberon in Midsummer Night's
>>> Dream)
>>
>> Yes. Don't ask me why, though. I just thought it was
>> appropriate, somehow.
>
> that line is also the source for the title of a tale where two
> familiar seeming characters meet, "Ill Met in Lankhmar".
Oh. Didn't know that, still haven't read any of those novels.
By the way, since I've got you doing annotations anyway, I think
the AWVF maintainer (that's Graycat, assisted by Daibhid) would
like additions to past episodes as well. You (collective you
meaning a.f.p) still haven't cracked all of the intended
references, and I'm beginning to get worried.
To give but one example, here's something from Episode Nine
<http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/chapter1_a.html#ep9>. At one
point where Villtin is in the queue to see the High Priest of the
Temple of Afpdor, we get this passage:
"Villtin considered his chances. They were having eating
disorders."
A catchphrase from the original Lethal Weapon movie, from 1987,
is "slim chances". In one scene, where detectives Riggs and
Murtaugh are under fire, the dialogue goes:
MURTAUGH: "Slim chances!"
RIGGS: "Anorectic!"
Marco Villalta
>> speed, but the bolts hung motionless in the air. The Barrier
>> picked up the frontmost one and studied it breifly, before
>> dropping it to the ground. He issued a little wave and the other
>> bolt dropped too.
>
>
> Do I really need to join the dots? No? Foine, foine...
You shouldn't need to, no... I'm horrible like that, repeating
jokes and plot devices that Orjan has already used. I like to
think of it as giving a sense of forshadowing; it's better than
the alternative.
Vide also Peterwok in the forest city, the rotten herring, etc.
--
Marco Villalta
Of course, some of it actually *is* foreshadowing...
Graycat
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>To give but one example, here's something from Episode Nine
><http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/chapter1_a.html#ep9>. At one
>point where Villtin is in the queue to see the High Priest of the
>Temple of Afpdor, we get this passage:
>
>"Villtin considered his chances. They were having eating
>disorders."
>
>A catchphrase from the original Lethal Weapon movie, from 1987,
>is "slim chances". In one scene, where detectives Riggs and
>Murtaugh are under fire, the dialogue goes:
>
>MURTAUGH: "Slim chances!"
>RIGGS: "Anorectic!"
Good grief...that's....långsökt
Marco Villalta
>> disorders."
>> MURTAUGH: "Slim chances!"
>> RIGGS: "Anorectic!"
>
> Good grief...that's....långsökt
Not *as* far-fetched as some of these references...
Graycat
I've found some annotations, please feel free to fill in the blanks -
I'm afraid it's all a bit brief but I'm really quite tired right now.
annotations:
The game is allready over
- Game Over, familiar to all gamers.
But I get the feeling this whole scene is also a reference to
something, like a movie I haven't seen.
I can always toss you
- fotr; Nobody tosses a dwarf, ttt; toss me
Speak now or forever hold your peace
- american wedding ceremony, priest askng for objections.
stupid slaves
- bridge over the river quay again.
stare into the abyss
- the abyss?
ill departed by twilight
- ill met in lankhmar and ill met by moonlight
see you later love
- ?
I was here all the time
- the matrix?
the barrier
- Barry R
the bolts slowed down...dropped too.
- the matrix, neo stopping bullets at the end of matrix 1
it was like moving through syrup
- In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast. This though reminds me
of the way "bullet time" works in video games, something that does
feel like the character s moving through syrup. Beyond good and evil,
prince of persia?
sparks flew each time the blades crossed
- feels like a reference, light sabres?
except possibly if there was a deep pool of water down below
- as any failed diver knows hitting water from great height is much
like hitting concrete, Westala needs to be one hell of a pro at
entering water like a knife rather than a pancake.
mountain upside-down
- the wyrmberg is upside down. But I don't really think this is a
reference, just a manner of speaking.
I can't understand why it's so empty
- feels like a reference, the tough guide to fantasy land?
Man walks pretty fast
- this something Örjan remarked upon while you guys were in london?
grey cat
- yay! I'm back :o)
two and a half backwards...pike formation
- high diveing
you *stood up* to my mistress
- I can't help thinking of erections, but my imagination may be
over-active.
even on the way down the spider tried to kill me
- Gandalf and the balrog fought during their fall
I like it, it's a name with potential
- feels like a pun, Mega volts, potential energy? something like that?
very precious to you
- gollum
unnerving...stared at...no eyes
- that this is unnerving is something many discover upon facing the
luggage for the first, and often last, time
He started walking again...mountain in front of him
- Vimes dressing up in his fancy suit in Jingo?
keep expecting to see peterwok up there
- ewoks again
chopping street
- shopping street, mincing street
simple street
- easy street
affordable street
- cheap street
new pounders
- new cobblers (which actually becomes last street after the junction)
cartload of frogs, copper and zink rods in a lemon
- electrical experiments with frogs used to be very popular, see the
painting/photo that the cover of SoDW1 was based on.
drying ther skin
- dried frog pills?
small silk trousers. to put on the frogs
- no idea, but must be a reference
Autopet crossing the arch of rock
- again, feels like a reference. Prince of persia, indiana jones,
something like that?
Sylvan Champion
- Sylvain chambon
Joran
- Orjan-Örjan
Ramoc
- Marco
--
Elin
The Tale of Westala and Villtin
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/index.html
The Oswalds, DWcasting award - Vote Now!
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/Oswald/index.html
Brian Wakeling
Graycat uttered thus:
> I've found some annotations, please feel free to fill in
> the blanks - I'm afraid it's all a bit brief but I'm really
> quite tired right now.
>
> annotations:
>
> Speak now or forever hold your peace
> - american wedding ceremony, priest askng for objections.
Any vaguely Christian wedding ceremony, I would have thought.
<snip>
>
> the bolts slowed down...dropped too.
> - the matrix, neo stopping bullets at the end of matrix 1
>
> it was like moving through syrup
> - In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast. This though
> reminds me of the way "bullet time" works in video games,
> something that does feel like the character s moving
> through syrup. Beyond good and evil, prince of persia?
Don't forget the "dodge this" line uttered by Trinity
> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
Or both blades could just be really high quality steel meeting
at alost 90 degrees each time.
<snip>
>
> I can't understand why it's so empty
> - feels like a reference, the tough guide to fantasy land?
Almost certainly. Newra says she's seen hares in the area - in
Tough Guide, the rabbits in the ubiquitous stew are almost
always actually hares.
<snip>
>
> cartload of frogs, copper and zink rods in a lemon
> - electrical experiments with frogs used to be very
> popular, see the painting/photo that the cover of SoDW1 was
> based on.
Actually, it's a bird in glass sphere in the original
<snip>
> small silk trousers. to put on the frogs
> - no idea, but must be a reference
I'm thinking Mr Toad from Wind in the Willows by Kenneth
Graeme.
> Autopet crossing the arch of rock
> - again, feels like a reference. Prince of persia, indiana
> jones, something like that?
The Silver Chair, from the Narnia series, has the heroes
crossing a giant, alomst derelict, stone arch bridge over a
chasm.
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
"Cupid has a depressing tendency to use me for target
practice"
- Me, sometime in 2002.
RelMark
"Graycat" <gra...@passagen.se> wrote in message
news:3qcr705mojg1ctpi3...@4ax.com...
>
> I've found some annotations, please feel free to fill in the blanks -
> I'm afraid it's all a bit brief but I'm really quite tired right now.
>
> annotations:
>
> - the abyss?
I'm guessing it's a reference to the Nietzsche quote.
RelMark
Graycat
<bpwak...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>In a speech called 3qcr705mojg1ctpi3...@4ax.com,
>Graycat uttered thus:
>> I've found some annotations, please feel free to fill in
>> the blanks - I'm afraid it's all a bit brief but I'm really
>> quite tired right now.
>>
>> annotations:
><snip>
>>
>> Speak now or forever hold your peace
>> - american wedding ceremony, priest askng for objections.
>
>Any vaguely Christian wedding ceremony, I would have thought.
Quite possbly though I'veonly ever heard that particular phrase in
american movies. I don't think it was included when my bf's sister got
married
>> it was like moving through syrup
>> - In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast. This though
>> reminds me of the way "bullet time" works in video games,
>> something that does feel like the character s moving
>> through syrup. Beyond good and evil, prince of persia?
>
>Don't forget the "dodge this" line uttered by Trinity
what's that a reference to then?
>> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
>> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
>
>Or both blades could just be really high quality steel meeting
>at alost 90 degrees each time.
Sure, all I said was it _feels_ like a reference of something.
>> cartload of frogs, copper and zink rods in a lemon
>> - electrical experiments with frogs used to be very
>> popular, see the painting/photo that the cover of SoDW1 was
>> based on.
>
>Actually, it's a bird in glass sphere in the original
which one has the frog legs then?
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 15/04/04 07:30 GMT Daylight Time
Message-id: <cras70l718ciak8nt...@4ax.com>
>On Thu, 15 Apr 2004 00:37:06 +0100, "Brian Wakeling"
><bpwak...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>>> cartload of frogs, copper and zink rods in a lemon
>>> - electrical experiments with frogs used to be very
>>> popular, see the painting/photo that the cover of SoDW1 was
>>> based on.
>>
>>Actually, it's a bird in glass sphere in the original
>
>which one has the frog legs then?
It's probably a Galvani ref. He discovered that running a current through a
frog made it's legs twitch. This encouraged a belief that electricity was "life
force", and led directly to Mary Shelley writing "Frankenstein".
--
Dave
The Official Absentee of EU Skiffeysoc
http://www.eusa.ed.ac.uk/societies/sesoc
Four-and-twenty Lib Dems came down from Inverness,
And when the vote was counted there were four-and-twenty less.
-Rory Bremner, 7/3/04
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 15/04/04 03:31 GMT Daylight Time
Which is *something* like "He who stares into the abyss will find the abyss
also stares at him, and he who fights monsters must take care he does not
become a monster".
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 14/04/04 22:55 GMT Daylight Time
>I've found some annotations, please feel free to fill in the blanks -
>I'm afraid it's all a bit brief but I'm really quite tired right now.
>
>annotations:
>I was here all the time
>
>- the matrix?
Coupled with "No, but distance is just an illusion, like everything else",
almost certainly.
>the barrier
>- Barry R
>
>the bolts slowed down...dropped too.
>- the matrix, neo stopping bullets at the end of matrix 1
>
>it was like moving through syrup
>- In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast.
It's probably worth mentioning again that Barry R aparently dislikes being
compared to Neo, so this whole section is presumably intended to wind him up.
>He started walking again...mountain in front of him
>- Vimes dressing up in his fancy suit in Jingo?
Um, I don't get the connection.
>affordable street
>- cheap street
Also almost certainly a reference to the trend Graham started for "affordable"
domains on afp.
I haven't spotted any more just yet.
Graycat
Ceannaideach) wrote:
>From: Graycat gra...@passagen.se
>Date: 14/04/04 22:55 GMT Daylight Time
>>He started walking again...mountain in front of him
>>- Vimes dressing up in his fancy suit in Jingo?
>
>Um, I don't get the connection.
Actually, turns out it isn't in Jingo. And I can't find it now. But
there is in one of the books a paragraph about Vimes getting dressed
and looking entirely normal until you realised that he wasn't looking
at the mirror.
Daibhid Ceannaideach
>From: Graycat gra...@passagen.se
>Date: 15/04/04 15:59 GMT Daylight Time
>Message-id: <1m8t705fburor61io...@4ax.com>
>
>On 15 Apr 2004 11:43:40 GMT, daibhidc...@aol.com (Daibhid
>Ceannaideach) wrote:
>
>>From: Graycat gra...@passagen.se
>>Date: 14/04/04 22:55 GMT Daylight Time
>
>>>He started walking again...mountain in front of him
>>>- Vimes dressing up in his fancy suit in Jingo?
>>
>>Um, I don't get the connection.
>
>Actually, turns out it isn't in Jingo. And I can't find it now. But
>there is in one of the books a paragraph about Vimes getting dressed
>and looking entirely normal until you realised that he wasn't looking
>at the mirror.
Okay, I know the bit you mean now. I think it's MAA, but I can't find it
either.
Brian Wakeling
In a speech called cras70l718ciak8nt...@4ax.com,
Graycat uttered thus:
> On Thu, 15 Apr 2004 00:37:06 +0100, "Brian Wakeling"
> <bpwak...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>> In a speech called
>> 3qcr705mojg1ctpi3...@4ax.com, Graycat
>> uttered thus:
<snip>
>>> it was like moving through syrup
>>> - In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast. This though
>>> reminds me of the way "bullet time" works in video games,
>>> something that does feel like the character s moving
>>> through syrup. Beyond good and evil, prince of persia?
>>
>> Don't forget the "dodge this" line uttered by Trinity
>
> what's that a reference to then?
So while the strange man was still straightening up, Capulette
fought the slow momentum, dropped her weapon, picked up the
branch and swept out the Barrier's feet from under him.
"Dodge this", she grunted.
The man fell on his back, and when the wind was knocked out of
him, time got back to normal. Another whack with the branch
sent
him off to dreamland.
In "The Matrix", near the end, Trinity and Neo are on the roof
of a building, and they come face to face with a Smith. While
the Smith is busy shooting at Neo (who is dodging the
bullets), Trinity sneaks up to the Smith, places the muzzle of
her gun against his head, says "Dodge this", and pulls the
trigger.
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
The problem with being in the rat-race is:
Even if you win, you're still a rat.
Marco Villalta
> annotations:
>
> The game is allready over
> - Game Over, familiar to all gamers.
> But I get the feeling this whole scene is also a reference to
> something, like a movie I haven't seen.
Have you seen _Aliens_? Small spoiler ROT-13'ed: Guvf fprar
erfbangrf jvgu gur bar va gur svyz evtug nsgre gur qebcfuvc
penfurf.
> stare into the abyss
> - the abyss?
Nietzsche. "If you stare into the abyss for too long, the abyss
will stare into you." Or something like that. The second part
of the quote that Daibhid reported I'm not familiar with, but the
first part is very widespread.
OK, so the gorge the river here flows in may not qualify as an
abyss, but you know what I mean.
> see you later love
> - ?
Generic line used by chauvinistic male characters to wind up
strong-willed female characters. Common cliché, no real
significance.
> it was like moving through syrup
> - In the matrix neo & co: can move extra fast. This though reminds
> me of the way "bullet time" works in video games, something that
> does feel like the character s moving through syrup. Beyond good
> and evil, prince of persia?
Just Matrix, all the way. I don't get around to play a lot of
computer games...
> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
Follow the katana reference.
> except possibly if there was a deep pool of water down below
> - as any failed diver knows hitting water from great height is
> much like hitting concrete, Westala needs to be one hell of a pro
> at entering water like a knife rather than a pancake.
I myself can't even remember now, but I think at one point
Westala muses that "I'm lucky I didn't break my neck".
No, entering the water like a pancake is not pleasant.
> mountain upside-down
> - the wyrmberg is upside down. But I don't really think this is a
> reference, just a manner of speaking.
Yes, just a colloquialism. Possibly a Swediwegian one, but I
could swear it's correct in English too.
<terry>
Sheesh, not everything is a reference, you know.
</terry>
> I can't understand why it's so empty
> - feels like a reference, the tough guide to fantasy land?
Uh... no. No, the characters are just wondering why there's no
living creature in sight. Wood- and grasslands would logically
be home a wide variety of animals, from birds and rodents to
deer. Newra simply remarks she has not tracked anything of deer-
size, and the next game one size down would probably be hares.
Sorry, Brian. But can I claim a "great minds think alike"?
The whole lack-of-food dialogue is just a lead-up to the
chocolate cake reference.
> Man walks pretty fast
> - this something Örjan remarked upon while you guys were in
> london?
No, but it's something a sufficiently large number of other
people have remarked upon that it was worth referring to. I have
been described as "the guy with warp speed on his feet", and as
going from naught to half lightspeed in two seconds. I have been
asked whether I teleport from place to place, and, upon
overtaking someone, if I was in fifth gear.
Of course, I don't walk fast; everyone else walks slow. In fact
I generally keep a "cruising speed" of about 7,5-8 km/h --
certainly faster than 7,5, but perhaps not always as fast as 8.
> grey cat
> - yay! I'm back :o)
Gotta keep the staff happy, you know...
> you *stood up* to my mistress
> - I can't help thinking of erections, but my imagination may be
> over-active.
I will not be held responsible for your imagination. :-)
> even on the way down the spider tried to kill me
> - Gandalf and the balrog fought during their fall
That too, although I don't remember the recap of that scene from
the book and had not yet seen the film at the time I wrote that.
And I get the impression that they mostly did the falling first
and recommenced the battle after they landed. Mostly I just
needed the spider as a platform Westala could jump away from to
save his neck.
> I like it, it's a name with potential
> - feels like a pun, Mega volts, potential energy? something like
> that?
Yes. A bad pun (as in "bad"), but nevertheless a pun.
> unnerving...stared at...no eyes
> - that this is unnerving is something many discover upon facing
> the luggage for the first, and often last, time
Being stared at by an Alien (which also has no eyes) is pretty
f_cking unnerving as well, I imagine.
> He started walking again...mountain in front of him
> - Vimes dressing up in his fancy suit in Jingo?
Men At Arms. And it's not really a reference; the language is
similar (it damn well should be, I looked it up to make sure it
was), but the situation isn't so much, and for quite different
reasons. I just used a device to illustrate Villtin's mental
state at this point.
> chopping street
> - shopping street, mincing street
Mincing St. Can't remember if the Streets of Ankh-Morpork even
has a Shopping Street.
> cartload of frogs, copper and zink rods in a lemon
> - electrical experiments with frogs used to be very popular, see
> the painting/photo that the cover of SoDW1 was based on.
I think Daibhid was spot on with Galvani. That experiment
'proved' that it was electricity that controlled the muscles.
> drying ther skin
> - dried frog pills?
Yep. Wouldn't *you* think Peterwok needed them?
> small silk trousers. to put on the frogs
> - no idea, but must be a reference
Ohh, yeah. In the 17th and 18th centuries there was a debate on
whether it was the ovum or the sperms that was the most important
ingredient in reproduction. Both had been discovered by 1680,
and scientists had divided into two camps: the ovists and the
spermists.
In 1780, Lorenzo Spallanzani, Italian abbot and ovist, decided to
prove once and for all that the ovum could evolve without contact
with sperms. He therefore put silk trousers on male frogs before
putting them together with the females to mate, and subsequently
made a rather big fiasco.
(Source: Illustrerad Vetenskap no. 5 1995, responsible publisher
Lars Engström, editor-in-chief Birgitte Engen, Bonnier
Specialmagasiner A/S, Copenhagen)
Now, why Peterwok would need to do this experiment when he
apparently already knows the process in detail (see previous
episodes) is anyone's guess. Possibly for demonstration
purposes, or utterly convincing a colleague, or something. Or he
needed the silk trousers for a more sinister experiment, in which
case I don't want to know about it.
But yes. Scientists and researchers have had quite a bit of fun
with frogs. They *need* those pills.
(And pay attention to that lemon with metal rods in it.)
> Autopet crossing the arch of rock
> - again, feels like a reference. Prince of persia, indiana jones,
> something like that?
Nah. Just had to get them across the river with a suitable
amount of action. Originally I wanted to do something involving
climbing, Newra, a crossbow, a tree, and a reference to chart
music, but when I thought it through it became obvious it would
be too long-winded and convoluted, so I scrapped that idea.
And, well, wouldn't you think a collapsing bridge is a common
enough cliché?
> Sylvan Champion
> - Sylvain chambon
Actually, the correct answer is "yes and no". It's not Sylvain
in person, simply because there *is* no actual person around in
the Tale to hang the reference on; but it is of course a
reference anyway, which will do for now until the characters meet
a "good chum in the forest", or something.
> Joran
> - Orjan-Örjan
Yes, here we find out the main characters' first names. It may
(or may not) also be interesting to note that while the Swedish
name of St. George -- you know, chap who got himself in trouble
with Lady Sybil -- is "S:t Göran" today, it appears that once
upon a time it was "S:t Örjan". Which would suggest that the
names, while perhaps not related, have a connection.
Not that this has anything to do with the Tale, but like I said,
it may be interesting to note. Or not.
Orjan Westin
> Graycat <gra...@passagen.se> wrote:
>
>> Joran
>> - Orjan-Örjan
>
> Yes, here we find out the main characters' first names. It may
> (or may not) also be interesting to note that while the Swedish
> name of St. George -- you know, chap who got himself in trouble
> with Lady Sybil -- is "S:t Göran" today, it appears that once
> upon a time it was "S:t Örjan". Which would suggest that the
> names, while perhaps not related, have a connection.
>
> Not that this has anything to do with the Tale, but like I said,
> it may be interesting to note. Or not.
Both "Örjan" and "Göran" (which has also been speeled as "Jöran") are, like
the likewise Swedish name "Jörgen", derived from the German "Jürgen", which
in turn is derived from the Greek "Giorgios", just like the English
"George".
So yes, they are all related.
Orjan
Graycat
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> Graycat <gra...@passagen.se> wrote:
>
>> annotations:
>>
>> The game is allready over
>> - Game Over, familiar to all gamers.
>> But I get the feeling this whole scene is also a reference to
>> something, like a movie I haven't seen.
>
>Have you seen _Aliens_?
Nope. I had to research for the other alien refs.
>> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
>> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
>
>Follow the katana reference.
Which Katana reference? I thought that was just Barry's katana?
>> except possibly if there was a deep pool of water down below
>> - as any failed diver knows hitting water from great height is
>> much like hitting concrete, Westala needs to be one hell of a pro
>> at entering water like a knife rather than a pancake.
>
>I myself can't even remember now, but I think at one point
>Westala muses that "I'm lucky I didn't break my neck".
Yup, I just felt like pointing it out anyway.
>> I can't understand why it's so empty
>> - feels like a reference, the tough guide to fantasy land?
>
>Uh... no. No, the characters are just wondering why there's no
>living creature in sight. Wood- and grasslands would logically
>be home a wide variety of animals, from birds and rodents to
>deer. Newra simply remarks she has not tracked anything of deer-
>size, and the next game one size down would probably be hares.
>Sorry, Brian. But can I claim a "great minds think alike"?
I can't look up the exact paragraph now because the book is with my
brother, but it is very similiar.
>The whole lack-of-food dialogue is just a lead-up to the
>chocolate cake reference.
Chokladkaka? Like the army has?
>> chopping street
>> - shopping street, mincing street
>
>Mincing St. Can't remember if the Streets of Ankh-Morpork even
>has a Shopping Street.
I don't think it does. I just thought that the choise of "chopping"
rather than, say, grinding, was because you get a double pun with
"shopping".
>> small silk trousers. to put on the frogs
>> - no idea, but must be a reference
>
>Ohh, yeah. In the 17th and 18th centuries there was a debate on
>whether it was the ovum or the sperms that was the most important
>ingredient in reproduction. Both had been discovered by 1680,
>and scientists had divided into two camps: the ovists and the
>spermists.
>
>In 1780, Lorenzo Spallanzani, Italian abbot and ovist, decided to
>prove once and for all that the ovum could evolve without contact
>with sperms. He therefore put silk trousers on male frogs before
>putting them together with the females to mate, and subsequently
>made a rather big fiasco.
Good lord, some scientists obviously have too much time on their
hands...
>(And pay attention to that lemon with metal rods in it.)
Isn't that just for the electricity?
>> Joran
>> - Orjan-Örjan
>
>Yes, here we find out the main characters' first names. It may
>(or may not) also be interesting to note that while the Swedish
>name of St. George -- you know, chap who got himself in trouble
>with Lady Sybil -- is "S:t Göran" today, it appears that once
>upon a time it was "S:t Örjan". Which would suggest that the
>names, while perhaps not related, have a connection.
>
>Not that this has anything to do with the Tale, but like I said,
>it may be interesting to note. Or not.
For a while while I was doing this I was convinced that Joran and
Ramoc also punned on Ayla's two main squeezes in the third cave bear
book - then I remembered that they were Jondalar and Ranec, and
Jondalar isn't very close to Joran after all. At which point I decided
that I really did need to get my head out of freudian mode....
Orjan Westin
> On Sun, 18 Apr 2004 22:39:03 +0200, Marco Villalta
> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>> Graycat <gra...@passagen.se> wrote:
>
>>> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
>>> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
>>
>> Follow the katana reference.
>
> Which Katana reference? I thought that was just Barry's katana?
From Highlander, yes. They have some really coal-rich kind of steel in their
swords, apparently, since they shower the place in sparks regardless of what
they hit.
>>> except possibly if there was a deep pool of water down below
>>> - as any failed diver knows hitting water from great height is
>>> much like hitting concrete, Westala needs to be one hell of a pro
>>> at entering water like a knife rather than a pancake.
I once survived a dive from 15 meters... No, it wasn't volountary.
>>> small silk trousers. to put on the frogs
>>> - no idea, but must be a reference
My first mental image was something along the lines of "Frogs have long,
kicking legs. In silk stockings. It's a cabaret!"
>> (And pay attention to that lemon with metal rods in it.)
>
> Isn't that just for the electricity?
Galvani, as previously noted, used frogs' legs to prove that muscle
movements could be induced with electricity.
> For a while while I was doing this I was convinced that Joran and
> Ramoc also punned on Ayla's two main squeezes in the third cave bear
> book
Squeeze is the word. If you want to have fun, take that book down from the
shelf in the library, let it fall open and note what kind of scenes it opens
at.
> then I remembered that they were Jondalar and Ranec, and
> Jondalar isn't very close to Joran after all. At which point I decided
> that I really did need to get my head out of freudian mode....
Probably. Although, IIRC, Jondalar was tall and blond while Ranec was short
and, um, dark.
Orjan
Ssirienna
"Orjan Westin" <nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote in message
news:c61fuq$72d38$1...@ID-90122.news.uni-berlin.de...
> Graycat wrote:
> > On Sun, 18 Apr 2004 22:39:03 +0200, Marco Villalta
> > <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> >> Graycat <gra...@passagen.se> wrote:
> >
>
> > For a while while I was doing this I was convinced that Joran and
> > Ramoc also punned on Ayla's two main squeezes in the third cave bear
> > book
>
> Squeeze is the word. If you want to have fun, take that book down from the
> shelf in the library, let it fall open and note what kind of scenes it
opens
> at.
>
> > then I remembered that they were Jondalar and Ranec, and
> > Jondalar isn't very close to Joran after all. At which point I decided
> > that I really did need to get my head out of freudian mode....
>
> Probably. Although, IIRC, Jondalar was tall and blond while Ranec was
short
> and, um, dark.
>
*grin*
That's going to make for very interesting images the next time I read the
Tale!
Thanks for that ;-))
Ssirienna
Orjan Westin
> "Orjan Westin" <nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote in message
> news:c61fuq$72d38$1...@ID-90122.news.uni-berlin.de...
>> Graycat wrote:
>>> then I remembered that they were Jondalar and Ranec, and
>>> Jondalar isn't very close to Joran after all. At which point I
>>> decided that I really did need to get my head out of freudian
>>> mode....
>>
>> Probably. Although, IIRC, Jondalar was tall and blond while Ranec was
>> short and, um, dark.
>
> That's going to make for very interesting images the next time I read
> the Tale!
I'm gonna be hung for that...
Orjan
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>> Graycat <gra...@passagen.se> wrote:
>>
>>> sparks flew each time the blades crossed
>>> - feels like a reference, light sabres?
>>
>> Follow the katana reference.
>
> Which Katana reference? I thought that was just Barry's katana?
Highlander. The fight scenes are notorious for their cascades of
sparks. In some cases there are even electric sparks.
>>> I can't understand why it's so empty
>>> - feels like a reference, the tough guide to fantasy land?
>>
>> Uh... no. No, the characters are just wondering why there's no
>> living creature in sight. Wood- and grasslands would logically
>> be home a wide variety of animals, from birds and rodents to
>> deer. Newra simply remarks she has not tracked anything of deer-
>> size, and the next game one size down would probably be hares.
>> Sorry, Brian. But can I claim a "great minds think alike"?
>
> I can't look up the exact paragraph now because the book is with
> my brother, but it is very similiar.
Well, that's good enough for me. Thus, I am now officially a
great mind.
Neat.
>> The whole lack-of-food dialogue is just a lead-up to the
>> chocolate cake reference.
>
> Chokladkaka? Like the army has?
Nope. A real and proper cake. And it's *much* more obscure than
that. You really have no fair chance of figuring it out.
>> (And pay attention to that lemon with metal rods in it.)
>
> Isn't that just for the electricity?
Yep.
Richard Bos
> Ssirienna wrote:
> > "Orjan Westin" <nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote in message
> > news:c61fuq$72d38$1...@ID-90122.news.uni-berlin.de...
> >> Probably. Although, IIRC, Jondalar was tall and blond while Ranec was
> >> short and, um, dark.
> >
> > That's going to make for very interesting images the next time I read
> > the Tale!
>
> I'm gonna be hung for that...
Braggart...
Richard
Graycat
<nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>Graycat wrote:
>> For a while while I was doing this I was convinced that Joran and
>> Ramoc also punned on Ayla's two main squeezes in the third cave bear
>> book
>
>Squeeze is the word. If you want to have fun, take that book down from the
>shelf in the library, let it fall open and note what kind of scenes it opens
>at.
It'll look like a fan - those scenes are basically all that's in the
book. Interrupted by brief bursts of pedantic plant describing.
>> then I remembered that they were Jondalar and Ranec, and
>> Jondalar isn't very close to Joran after all. At which point I decided
>> that I really did need to get my head out of freudian mode....
>
>Probably. Although, IIRC, Jondalar was tall and blond while Ranec was short
>and, um, dark.
Yes, that contributed...
Graycat
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>By the way, since I've got you doing annotations anyway, I think
>the AWVF maintainer (that's Graycat, assisted by Daibhid) would
>like additions to past episodes as well. You (collective you
>meaning a.f.p) still haven't cracked all of the intended
>references, and I'm beginning to get worried.
I have a feeling there is an annotation or two here:
"Beheading? Very well..."
"Oh, Random-Fluctuations-In-The-Space-Time-Continuum, he heard us..."
To begin with, the unbeliever's "oh god", sometimes uttered here on
afp. But is there more?
Orjan Westin
> On Sun, 11 Apr 2004 00:09:58 +0200, Marco Villalta
> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>
>> By the way, since I've got you doing annotations anyway, I think
>> the AWVF maintainer (that's Graycat, assisted by Daibhid) would
>> like additions to past episodes as well.
>
>
> "Beheading? Very well..."
>
> "Oh, Random-Fluctuations-In-The-Space-Time-Continuum, he heard us..."
I haven't got the source, but IIRC it's from a signing report or other,
where fan in queue says something silly, Terry clearly says something like
"Execution? Very well..." and fan gasps "Oh, God, he heard us..."
Orjan
Ssirienna
must resist ..... must maintain calm ......
ARRRRRGGGHHH!
Ssirienna
(sniggering in the background)
Marco Villalta
> From: Graycat gra...@passagen.se
>
>> annotations:
>
>> the barrier
>> - Barry R
>
> dislikes being compared to Neo, so this whole section is
> presumably intended to wind him up.
<www.google.com/groups?selm=MPG.19f3eaa032d2347c989689%40news.cis
.dfn.de>
>> affordable street
>> - cheap street
>
> Also almost certainly a reference to the trend Graham started for
> "affordable" domains on afp.
Maybe. I actually don't remember. But there are only so many
synonyms for "cheap"...
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>> By the way, since I've got you doing annotations anyway, I think
>> the AWVF maintainer (that's Graycat, assisted by Daibhid) would
>> like additions to past episodes as well. You (collective you
>> meaning a.f.p) still haven't cracked all of the intended
>> references, and I'm beginning to get worried.
>
> I have a feeling there is an annotation or two here:
>
> "Beheading? Very well..."
>
> "Oh, Random-Fluctuations-In-The-Space-Time-Continuum, he heard
> us..."
>
> To begin with, the unbeliever's "oh god", sometimes uttered here
> on afp. But is there more?
Myeah. That passage refers to a quote I remembered from a
Signing Queue report. I thought the scenario was funny, and when
I got to write about a similar one, it fitted right in.
<www.google.com/groups?selm=9tepbp%2426q2f%241%40ID-
93395.news.dfncis.de>
The exchange "... most pious follower... -- yes, actually..." was
from a cut scene of a TV programme I caught, entirely by
accident, on Discovery Channel (IIRC). It was a documentary
about Tolkien's influence on today's fantasy writers, where among
others Terry was interviewed, in connection with a signing. I
don't know when or where the signing was filmed, or whether there
were any afpers present.
--
Marco Villalta
"You can't help having a soft spot for something that stands
between you and real work."
-- Terry Pratchett, The Discworld Companion
Brian Wakeling
MPG.1aefacdeb...@news.individual.net,
Marco Villalta uttered thus:<snip>
>>> affordable street
>>> - cheap street
>>
>> Also almost certainly a reference to the trend Graham
>> started for "affordable" domains on afp.
>
> Maybe. I actually don't remember. But there are only so
> many synonyms for "cheap"...
EasyJet
<coat - thank you>
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
"What happens if you get scared half to death twice?"
Torak
> Marco Villalta uttered thus:
>
>>Maybe. I actually don't remember. But there are only so
>>many synonyms for "cheap"...
>
> EasyJet
Nah, EasyJet's not cheap.
Not compared to RyanAir, at least...
CCA
>Marco Villalta uttered thus:
>But there are only so
>> many synonyms for "cheap"...
>EasyJet
I thought that was more of a synonym for 'crap'?
CCA:)
Marco Villalta
> * * *
>
> <takes a large bite>
>
> I'm forry, but I'm hun'ry. I'll jus' have a sammich and 'en I'll
> continue.
<munching goes on for quite a while>
<whole lotta chewing going on>
<mastication!>
<... you get the idea>
<swallows, eventually>
Wot?! I didn't say it would be a small sandwich!
* * *
Gideoallet had been out on another walk around the city. He
didn't much like to call them patrols, but would admit that, in
effect, they were.
Tonight he'd had reports that Bos and Ballong were in town,
collecting protection money, but hadn't been able to find them.
He grumbled. That was just what the place needed, a scare that
made people forget the break they'd just had.
"Ey, man."
Gideoallet turned. The voice came from a narrow alleymouth.
It's always a narrow alleymouth.
It was a pimp. The abundance of gold jewellery left little doubt
about it. But as pimps go, he was dressed rather unusually; the
slick suit was there, but in shades of green and khaki that
combined to produce a camouflage effect. Camouflage that didn't
work very well against a brick wall, but that's pimps for you.
"Ey, maybe I can help you? You look like a man who's thinkin',
'Man, I could use some good poon right now, I wonder where I can
find myself some bitches?'"
"Um..." Gideoallet was looking down the street.
"Nah, nah, don't be shy. It just so happens I can supply with
all the bitches you can eat. However you like 'em, I's got 'em.
If you wanna know where the ladies are at, you come ask me,
Andrés 'El Perro' Perròn".
Gideoallet kept glancing to his side. "You know, you might find
it wise to shut up right about now."
"Don't *worry*. My bizness leaves a one-hundred-percent
guarantee of satisfaction. My ladies are always happy to take
care of a man and polish his sword. I's got hos that are quiet,
I's got hos that can play feisty. Any way you want 'em, just
name it. 'El Perro' can get you any kind o' bitches."
Now looking constantly beside him, Gideoallet tried to interrupt
again, but to no avail.
"Prices? *Very* reasonable. The tricks my gals can play you,
you gonna find it worth every /centavo/. Trust me, when 'El
Perro's' gals play tricks, they play tricks that blow your mind.
Satisfaction gua-ran-teed."
Tily stepped around the corner.
"Tricks, you say? I'll give you tricks. I'll show you a trick
with a rainwater barrel that a couple of friends of mine called
Westala and Villtin have taught me, doggy boy!"
"No! Tily! Bad!"
*
Westala and Villtin had had some bad experience of towers, but at
least this one didn't howl like the spooks of a thousand hounds.
The fellowship was watching the Masse-Chute Capitale fort from
the cover of a low hill. To their left, a road -- now overgrown,
but still recognisable as a frequently used path -- wound its way
up the mountainside and out the outcrop to the fort. About a
mile from the gates it passed between two tall cliffs, and there
was a guard post.
The party was slightly below the level of the fort, and too far
away to see anything clearly. But there was no obvious way to
get closer -- or rather, closer *and* higher -- without leaving
cover.
"Well", reflected Westala, "we have all day to come up with a
plan."
"The way you think, it's gonna take all day", teased Villtin.
Hollow-eyed, he went on to comment on the foremost thing on his
mind: "Gods, I'm tired."
"You would be", said Autopet. "I don't understand why you
insisted on taking all the guard shifts yourself tonight."
"Might as well, couldn't sleep."
"Couldn't, or wouldn't?" mumbled Mega Vole. Everyone heard her,
but pretended not to.
"Anyway", said Villtin, "we don't need all day to think of a
plan. It's simple. Problem: we need to get higher up to see
what's going on around the fort. Solution: we climb the
mountain."
"There's no cover up there", mused Newra. "We'll run a great
risk of being spotted."
"I know. We can't run around up there, all of us, we'll have to
minimise the scout party as much as possible. One person is
obviously too little, but any more than that isn't good either.
Westala and I go, the rest of you go down towards the coast. Get
as close to the fort as you can, set up camp there. We'll catch
up later."
"Just be careful when you cross the road, so the guards don't
notice you."
"Don't worry." He grinned. "We'll be sneaking real *quiet*,
like."
*
Capulette stopped, and dismounted. She had been following the
tracks of Tessan's takers for hours, but now she couldn't
anymore. They had disappeared.
She searched the terrain systematically, in ever wider circles,
but found nothing. She couldn't even find any evidence that the
kidnappers had covered their track behind them -- the ground was
soft, and even a thorough smoothing would have left some signs.
But the trail simply stopped abruptly, in mid-stride by the looks
of it, as if the people and horses had vanished into thin air.
She drew her weapon. She suddenly had a funny feeling that she
wasn't alone. But the thin woodlands didn't -- couldn't -- hide
any threats.
She mounted, weapon still in hand, and slowly rode on to widen
the search for the tracks.
*
"All right... I think we know enough of the outer guard routines
to go take a look inside."
Villtin had cleared a smooth patch of sandy soil, and was drawing
in it with a knife.
"The front face of the fort is heavily guarded. Affor's henchmen
and cultist goons, by the looks of it. The bastions on the
corners..." He placed pebbles on the corners of the crudely
drawn square. "... overlook the terrain at least a mile out.
Down the road, even more."
"These two sides have permanent guard posts halfway down them --
here and here." Westala leaned over to point with his hunting
dagger. "Clearly visible from the front corner bastions even at
night. The front is patrolled from one corner to the other every
half hour. And every hour, two guards walk the entire
perimeter."
Lowmar whistled under his breath. "You'd almost think they were
expecting trouble."
"Yeah. But I think they're just being cautious, not taking any
chances with valuable prisoners. Now, the only side that's
virtually unguarded is this one, and that's where we'll go in."
"Why don't they guard it?" asked Newra.
"Because it's impossible", smiled Villtin. "That's the side
facing out to sea. Nobody can enter that way, or so *they*
think. The cliff is steep, in fact there's even an overhang, and
the fort wall is smooth. They don't need to guard it, because
there's no way to get in that way without mountaineering
equipment, and then you'd alert everyone in the fort by hammering
the nails in."
"But we'll be using Peterwok's octupus things." Newra nodded
approvingly.
"Yep. Y'know, it's silly, the way life can imitate stories
sometimes. This is almost exactly what Hammer Tone did."
"Doesn't that worry you?" asked Lowmar. "With all these
similarities you see, it looks like Bos and Ballong are preparing
you a trap."
"If they'd read the Hammer Tone stories, certainly", said
Westala. "But before Peterwok told us his inspiration for the
octupus...es? -pusi? -pusii? Whatever. Before that, I'd never
heard of them being available here. Something Villtin has
complained about for years, I might add. What about you?" He
nodded to Autopet.
"Well, no, but on the other hand I've been away in Byxans for a
while, so don't take my word for it."
"All right", said Lowmar, "I'll admit that I've never heard of
them before either. But still..."
"We'll be careful", Villtin concluded. "We're not going to to
quite the same thing anyway. The plan is that I go up first,
riding on the back of the dragon. I'll take a look inside, see
what everyone is doing, then let you in through one of the lower
balconies. Then we'll find the cabal. After that we'll see what
happens. Questions?"
Newra raised her hand. "The big watchtower. Anyone in it will
see you climbing over the parapet."
"The big tower is basically a relic from back when the fort was a
coastal sentry post", replied Westala. "We saw exactly zero
activity in it. The masonry is in disrepair and looks unsafe. I
don't think anyone's been in there for years."
"We'll wait until dark until we break camp", concluded Westala.
"Let's get some food and rest in the meantime."
"Okay."[1]
*
Villtin chanced a glance down. In the dark it was hard to tell
just how high up he was, but he couldn't decide if that made him
feel better or worse. He saw the glow of a breaking wave and
estimated his altitude to about twenty yards. The dragon was a
quick climber.
He took a new hold on the spike-like protrusions on its back and
shifted his weight. He had Newra's crossbow slung over his
shoulder, together with three torches. In case he was captured
he would, very reluctantly and not until a good deal of pain had
happened, reveal that they were to be dropped at specific
intervals as an "all clear" signal. The *truth* was that a torch
dropped straight down was a warning; if all *was* clear Villtin
would throw one torch as far off to one side along the wall as he
could, then another to the other side. The third he would keep,
in case he needed to make a late warning.
The dragon was reaching the brow of the overhang and Villtin
motioned to it to slow down. With some acrobatics he unslung the
crossbow and loaded it. If the guard was standing at the parapet
and looked down, there wasn't much Villtin could do other than
discourage him from killing him and make a hasty escape.
The parapet was empty. That, though, was no reason to lower the
weapon; the seawards guard wouldn't have a lot to do *but* look
at the sea, and the obvious position for that would be leaning
over the parapet. Something was very wrong.
Villtin steered the dragon towards one of the lower balconies, to
get a bit of cover as they went higher. There were four
balconies on this wall, but the doors to them could only be
opened from the inside without causing noise.
Once under one of the upper ones he stopped the dragon again.
The top of the wall was less than ten yards up now, and strained
his hearing as hard as he could for any signs of danger.
Nothing.
Very carefully, they moved forward again. The speed they were
going at now could only be adequately described as crawling.
There was no point in taking unnecessary risks.
Just below the edge, Villtin stopped *again*, and tried to think.
They hadn't made any sound. No-one had looked down at them from
the parapet, although he realised now that he hadn't paid
attention to the bastions. But it was probably too dark for
anyone over there to see the wall properly, since no torches
burned anywhere nearby.
That meant that if there was anyone waiting to take a potshot at
him, they wouldn't know exactly where he was. He listened
intently. Where the hell was that guard? Well, he'd need a
fraction of a second to adjust his aim.
He swung himself up and poked his head over the edge, then
immediately dived back down again.
No bolt whizzed past over him, no-one shouted any warnings. He
tried to sort out what he'd had time to see. Grey stone, the
walls of the top floor, the big tower high above, an empty
walkway... and a slumped human figure.
A loud snort gave him a start, and almost made him lose his grip.
The silence returned. He poked his head up again and saw the
guard, sleeping with his back against the wall, a few yards to
his left. He slipped over the parapet and wondered what to do
next. A sleeping guard was an element of low risk, but not quite
as low as a dead guard. He checked the crossbow and stepped up
to the sleeping man.
Voices. Someone was coming this way. Villtin grabbed on to the
dragon and let it scramble up on the roof, just in time. Two
other guards came around the corner.
"Would you look at this?" said one of them. "Abe's asleep again.
I don't think there's one night he hasn't fallen asleep on his
post."
"Heh, we could always blackmail him about it. Get it? Asleep on
his *post*, black*mail*. Get it?"
"I *got* it, but it wasn't *funny*. Oi, Abe, wake up!" He
prodded the sleeping guard with his foot.
"Wstfgl."
"Rise and bloody shine, sleepyhead. Can't you at least put up an
appearance?"
"Hey, you'd nod off too if you were posted here", said the roused
Abe. "Most boring job on this whole pile of rubble."
"All right, I'll take that bet. I'm sick of playing cards
against Hort anyway, he always wins. Doing something else for a
while sounds great to me."
"You're on. Anything to get me out of here."
Abe and the guard with the bad jokes left. The remaining one
walked up and down a few times, then leaned on the parapet and
looked down.
"Pointless shit for a job. Who's gonna climb up here?"
Villtin grinned. Even if he would manage to stay awake, this
guard seemed to take his mission just as seriously as sleepyhead
Abe, and probably wouln't be too much of a risk. He seemed to be
setting up some kind of solitary game, completely ignoring the
sea view, but moved around too much for Villtin to safely sneak
up to him and strangle him quietly. Ah well, no matter.
There were holes in the roof where the masonry had decided it
didn't want to play anymore. Villtin peered down into the
darkness of one of them. He dug in a pocket, took out a small
box-like device and used it to produce a small flame.
Once upon a time a clever man had combined the ideas of the oil
lamp and the steel. He'd made a little container for the fuel,
stuck a wick through a hole in the top, mounted a tiny steel and
a small fine-toothed metal wheel next to the wick so it could be
pelted with sparks, and had ended up with a device that was
perfect for lighting cigars.
The device was called a Swisho, after the stage name of its
inventor. He was a comedian, and toured variety theatres across
the continent together with his four brothers: Rubbo, Piano,
Gringo and Gladdo. The lighters were very popular, but not all
that common. Villtin's Swisho was an extra expensive gold-plated
one, which he'd lifted off a merchant.
The tiny flame didn't provide much light, but enough to reveal a
corridor. The fallen stones had been stacked to the sides,
suggesting that the hallway was in frequent use. Villtin jumped
down, hoping like hell his knees wouldn't make that clicking
noise knees always make when you bend them too quickly.
*Pop*-*pop*.
Damn!
He dived into a nearby doorway and armed himself with a shuriken.
But nobody had heard him, nobody was around.
The dragon trotted off somewhere. Villtin found a stairway and
went down one floor. The prisoners were probably held in one of
the lower floors, he guessed, since that was the most common
location of dungeons. But he wanted to know what Bos and Ballong
were up to first.
He found them on the next floor down. They were in a larger
hall, possibly once a briefing room, two floors tall with a
gallery all around. He crept close to the rail and listened to
the conversation below.
"Did you get a couple of those cultists to prepare a guest room?"
said Bos.
"/Oui/. All done. I shell take care of the dinnér and wine
myself, zough. I do not trust zose thugs to get eet right."
"Good. Just in time, too -- our guest has arrived."
Villtin had just enough time to worry that Bos had referred to
him, when a door opened and an all-too familiar, tall hooded
figure entered the room.
And changed. The figure's stature diminished, the dark cloak
became a red dress, and other changes rippled all over the
apparition. In the end there was a tall woman standing by the
door. Extremely beautiful, but it was that frosty, calculated
beauty, normally associated with Greta Garbo or Nicole Kidman.
Villtin gaped. So *that's* why there was such ambiguity about
whether Sherilob was male or female. He (or she), as a
shapeshifter, could be either. Villtin wasn't at all taken by
his, or currently her, beauty -- in the transformation, while the
morphic signal hunted between stations, he'd caught a flash of
another shape. It wasn't a clear image, but it involved metallic
spider legs, and that was quite enough to make him ill at ease.
"Show-off", Bos grinned. "Welcome."
"Thank you", said Sherilob, with a molten-chocolate voice that
almost made Villtin forget the shrill piercing cry in the Magdala
caves a few days ago. Almost. "What's with the guard force, are
you planning to scale up the business?"
"I wish. No, the reason they're here is also the reason I wanted
to see you. You know that religious cult of self-centering, the
Cult of Me? They'd managed to capture that cabal that wanted
people to ignore them. But then it turned out that the cabal had
friends, who are now setting up a stupid resistance movement.
Normally I wouldn't worry about it, but now we hear they've got
help from the Clench. So the Cult asked us to babysit their
prisoners."
"Wait a second. The Clench, you said?"
"Yes. From the Stargazer clan, apparently."
"Oooh, that could be Messy!"
"You don't seem to mind."
"I don't, actually. Don't tell anyone, but I've had run-ins with
her before, and that was a world of fun. She's always on about
how I 'try to impose my views on everyone else', like it's
supposed to be a crime. But it's so amusing to argue with her."
"Well, it looks like you'll have ample opportunity to do that in
the near future. Personally, I just want people to pay their
insurance fees like good law-abiding citizens, and don't make a
fuss. We're making pretty good money at the moment, but in a few
years time, who's gonna know what happens?"
"Also, /ma Cherie/-lob", said Ballong, "it iz not only the Clench
that are dangereuse, there is also Gideo-alléz the wordsman, and
recently a couple of soldiers-of-fortune called Westala and
Villtin. And they are right clever bastárds, too -- they tricked
Dextra to use one of my satires on himself."
"Shut up, will you?" said Bos, clearly not happy to be reminded.
"All right, but I'm washing my hands of zis. I'll haf to go and
prepare dinnér soon."
Villtin decided he'd heard enough and was just about to leave,
when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. One of
Sherilob's pets, a spider the size of a terrier, was scampering
towards him. Then it suddenly stopped and shied.
He risked a look behind him. There was the dragon, crouched down
low and with the point of the tail hovering like a humming bird.
It shot out and speared the spider clean through. It was
completely soundless, not as much as a whooshing noise when the
tail cleaved the air. The three people below didn't pay
attention to the galleries. No-one had noticed anything.
But something had registered *something*, still. An instrument,
looking rather like an opaque glass cube, started giving off a
high-pitched whistling sound. Bos stopped in mid-sentence,
picked it up and studied some kind of information on it.
"Yo Fix... I think we've got something here."
Ballong frowned. He picked up a similar instrument and activated
it. It too started giving off a repeated whistle. His
expression froze.
"I think Dextra may be right..."
* * *
<gestures to Orjan to take over and starts digging into lunch>
--------
[1] Virtually all worlds in the multiverse that are inhabited by
avatars of human beings have a word for positive affirmation,
derived from two alphabetical letters. These are not always O
and K, but that is surprisingly often the case.[2] On worlds
where they are "TV", though, it should be said that televisive
technology tends to be shortened to something else.
[2] But apparently never for the same reasons: on one world they
stem from a newspaper editor's funky spelling, on another they're
the initials of a popular politician, on a third they commemorate
the capture of an Ogre Keep. What seems to be universal is that
everyone forgets the original reason, and there is much dispute
and many myths as to what it might be.
--
Marco Villalta
Take off your low-heels, put on your ho-heels.
Brian Wakeling
MPG.1afe3a13...@news.individual.net,
Marco Villalta uttered thus:
Very good! Just a few wossnames...
slight spoiler space
> In case he
> was captured he would, very reluctantly and not until a
> good deal of pain had happened,
A good deal of pain for Villtin or his captors?
<snip>
>
> "Would you look at this?" said one of them. "Abe's asleep
> again. I don't think there's one night he hasn't fallen
> asleep on his post."
Granpa Simpson from the cartoon of the same name is always
falling asleep - sometimes in mid-sentence. His full name is
Abraham J Simpson
<snip>
> Once upon a time a clever man had combined the ideas of the
> oil lamp and the steel. He'd made a little container for
> the fuel, stuck a wick through a hole in the top, mounted a
> tiny steel and a small fine-toothed metal wheel next to the
> wick so it could be pelted with sparks, and had ended up
> with a device that was perfect for lighting cigars.
>
> The device was called a Swisho,
Zippo cigarette lighter
<snip>
>
> "Wait a second. The Clench, you said?"
>
> "Yes. From the Stargazer clan, apparently."
>
> "Oooh, that could be Messy!"
I sort of recognise these names as AFPers, but can't place
them...
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
"I always take blushing for a sign of guilt, or of ill
breeding."
- William Congreve
CCA
Annotations coming up...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
>"Nah, nah, don't be shy. It just so happens I can supply with
>all the bitches you can eat. However you like 'em, I's got 'em.
>If you wanna know where the ladies are at, you come ask me,
>Andrés 'El Perro' Perròn".
Torak? *g*
>Once upon a time a clever man had combined the ideas of the oil
>lamp and the steel.
>The device was called a Swisho, after the stage name of its
>inventor.
Zippo lighters.
>He was a comedian, and toured variety theatres across
>the continent together with his four brothers: Rubbo, Piano,
>Gringo and Gladdo.
The Marx Brothers.
CCA:)
Family Bites Website and Sample Chapter at http://www.falboroughhall.co.uk
Live Journal at http://www.livejournal.com/users/ciciaye
jester
<sphir...@aol.com> wrote:
<chop>
>
>The Marx Brothers.
I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
--
Andy Brown
If you're not failing every now and again, it's a sign you're not doing
anything very innovative. - Woody Allen
Jenny Delaney
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>"Ey, man."
>
>Gideoallet turned. The voice came from a narrow alleymouth.
>It's always a narrow alleymouth.
>
>It was a pimp. The abundance of gold jewellery left little doubt
>about it. But as pimps go, he was dressed rather unusually; the
>slick suit was there, but in shades of green and khaki that
>combined to produce a camouflage effect. Camouflage that didn't
>work very well against a brick wall, but that's pimps for you.
>
>"Ey, maybe I can help you? You look like a man who's thinkin',
>'Man, I could use some good poon right now, I wonder where I can
>find myself some bitches?'"
TBH, sounds like a usual walk home from work for Gideon.The street he
works on is a regular spot for kerbcrawlers, and once he crosses a
road, he's got to pass at least two brothels that we know of.
Jenny
Gideon Hallett
$gsa8n$1...@ID-188625.news.uni-berlin.de:
> In a speech called
> MPG.1afe3a13...@news.individual.net,
> Marco Villalta uttered thus:
>
> Very good! Just a few wossnames...
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> slight spoiler space
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
<snip>
> <snip>
>>
>> "Wait a second. The Clench, you said?"
>>
>> "Yes. From the Stargazer clan, apparently."
>>
>> "Oooh, that could be Messy!"
>
> I sort of recognise these names as AFPers, but can't place
> them...
Then I will suggest that you go and read Chapter Ten -
(http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/talenoframes2.html#ep10)
Proceed thenceforth to the Annotations (Chapter Ten)
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/awvf.html
Be enlightened; and thank Elin and Daibhid for their unceasing
and underappreciated hard work.
cheers,
Gideon.
(Although, to correct a miniscule error, my degree is 'physics
with space science', not astronomy; i.e. it deals with planets,
spacecraft and the solar system, rather than stars, cosmology and
eternal truths. I can't tell you how models of the universe work,
but I can tell you about 3-axis stabilisation of spacecraft and
synthetic-aperture radar scanning of planetary biomass.)
--
(((( | ====diog...@freeuk.com.=========================|
o__))))) | - Bringing permed '70s-retro hedgehogs to the =|
__ \'((((( | common people since he got bored one afternoon. =|
Alec Cawley
<use...@jester.nu> writes
>On 02 May 2004 10:41:10 GMT, CCA
><sphir...@aol.com> wrote:
><chop>
>>
>>The Marx Brothers.
>
>I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
And everybody forgets Spencer.
--
@lec Šawley
Marco Villalta
> Marco Villalta uttered thus:
>
> Very good! Just a few wossnames...
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> slight spoiler space
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>> In case he
>> was captured he would, very reluctantly and not until a
>> good deal of pain had happened,
>
> A good deal of pain for Villtin or his captors?
Er... now that you mention it, the captors will probably go
"ouch" first.
> <snip>
>>
>> "Would you look at this?" said one of them. "Abe's asleep
>> again. I don't think there's one night he hasn't fallen
>> asleep on his post."
>
> Granpa Simpson from the cartoon of the same name is always
> falling asleep - sometimes in mid-sentence. His full name is
> Abraham J Simpson
O-kay, what excuse should I use this time...?
Seriously, nope. I have watched very little Simpsons in my time,
and hadn't even heard of Gramps before now. Side note: it can be
bloody difficult to think of a random name for a secondary
character sometimes.
> <snip>
>> Once upon a time a clever man had combined the ideas of the
>> oil lamp and the steel.
>> The device was called a Swisho,
>
> Zippo cigarette lighter
Named after little-known Zippo Marx, who burned out far too
quickly.
Marco Villalta
Okay, that I didn't know. I swear.
Marco Villalta
> jester <use...@jester.nu> writes
>> CCA <sphir...@aol.com> wrote:
>>
>> <chop>
>>> The Marx Brothers.
>>
>> I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
>
> And everybody forgets Spencer.
I thought they left before they became famous?
Gideon Hallett
news:MPG.1aff548fd...@news.individual.net:
It's not something I really go into.
(And neither are they.)
Let's just say that Jack-the-Ripper territory really hasn't changed
that much in 115 years; and I'm halfway convinced that Commercial
Street was named for a very specific sort of commerce.
So, when I get called out at 2 or 3 a.m. to go and look at a sick
server, I generally end up walking down Commercial St to get to the
datacentre (no direct buses, and I'm not going to get a taxi for a
15-minute walk).
The first time I saw a woman hanging around at the bus stop at
02:00, I wondered idly how long she was going to wait for a night
bus; especially as the Number 67 terminates at Aldgate, a good 400
yards down the road. The second time I saw the same woman the
following night (busy week), I figured that she must just be
waiting for someone. The third night (yes, three nights in a row)
the penny dropped (finally!) and I just felt mildly foolish.
It's one of the things you learn to recognise and avoid; I dislike
being propositioned by strangers (silly, but I just do); and so
have perfected the Geek On A Mission walk - which is a) determined
b) fast and c) conveys the opinion that I'm going somewhere in a
hurry and am not worth propositioning.
Gideon.
Caroline Alexander
> I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
AOL!
--
Carl.
Torak
>>>
>>> The Marx Brothers.
>>
>> I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
>
> And everybody forgets Spencer.
Spencer Marx? Isn't that old Laundry Marx' dad?
Torak
> Alec Cawley <al...@spamspam.co.uk> wrote:
>>jester <use...@jester.nu> writes
>>>CCA <sphir...@aol.com> wrote:
>>>
>>><chop>
>>>
>>>>The Marx Brothers.
>>>
>>>I still think they should have given Karl more screen time.
>>
>>And everybody forgets Spencer.
>
> I thought they left before they became famous?
Same with poor ol' Mr Woogie....
The Stainless Steel Cat
spam....@gmx.net (Caroline Alexander) wrote:
The others dropped "Karlo" after he messed up one of the songs...
"Lydia oh Lydia,
That encyclopydia,
Lydia the ta-atooed lady,
'Religion is the opium of the masses',
She's got that written across her..."
Cat.
--
Jazz-Loving Soul Mate and Rude Haikuist to CCA
La Rustimuna ^Stalkato
Graycat
<diog...@freeuk.com> jotted down:
>Be enlightened; and thank Elin and Daibhid for their unceasing
>and underappreciated hard work.
Thank you.
I'm a bit behind right now due to an unseasonal burst of
working hard in RL too. But I'll catch up, never fear :o)
>(Although, to correct a miniscule error, my degree is 'physics
>with space science', not astronomy; i.e. it deals with planets,
>spacecraft and the solar system, rather than stars, cosmology and
>eternal truths. I can't tell you how models of the universe work,
>but I can tell you about 3-axis stabilisation of spacecraft and
>synthetic-aperture radar scanning of planetary biomass.)
ok, now it says:
*Stargazer clan of the Clench*
A reference to Gideon Hallet (Gideoallet). He has a degree
in physics with space science, which is quite closely
related to astronomy where you look, or gaze, at stars
(physics with space science is about planets, spacecraft and
the solar system.) Gideon is also an avid fan of Ian M.
Banks' Culture novels. In one of those there is a group
called "the Elench". They are a break-out group from the
Culture,who are roaming the galaxy in search of facts and
new points of view.
--
Elin
The Tale of Westala and Villtin
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/index.html
The Oswalds DW casting award - Vote Now!
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/Oswald/index.html
Daibhid Ceannaideach
>From: sphir...@aol.com (CCA)
>Date: 02/05/04 11:41 GMT Daylight Time
>Message-id: <20040502064110...@mb-m15.aol.com>
>
>Marco Villalta wrote
>
>Annotations coming up...
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>.
>
>>"Nah, nah, don't be shy. It just so happens I can supply with
>>all the bitches you can eat. However you like 'em, I's got 'em.
>>If you wanna know where the ladies are at, you come ask me,
>>Andrés 'El Perro' Perròn".
>
>Torak? *g*
The camouflage gear suggests so. Deliberately cast against type, of course.
(Given Torak's famed fedoras and trilbys, I'm surprised the 70's-pimp
broad-brimmed hat wasn't mentioned as part of the ensemble).
"Perro" is Spanish for "dog", hence Tily calling him "doggy boy". I am unaware
if this has further significance, beyond soundling like "Andrew Perry".
>>Once upon a time a clever man had combined the ideas of the oil
>>lamp and the steel.
>>The device was called a Swisho, after the stage name of its
>>inventor.
>
>Zippo lighters.
>
>>He was a comedian, and toured variety theatres across
>>the continent together with his four brothers: Rubbo, Piano,
>>Gringo and Gladdo.
>
>The Marx Brothers.
Specifically:
Swisho = Zeppo
Rubbo = Gummo
Piano = Harpo
Gringo = Chico
Gladdo = Groucho
--
Dave
The Official Absentee of EU Skiffeysoc
http://www.eusa.ed.ac.uk/societies/sesoc
Fans are great. Fandom is weird.
-Terry Pratchett
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 01/05/04 22:50 GMT Daylight Time
More annotations, of a sort:
>Westala and Villtin had had some bad experience of towers, but at
>least this one didn't howl like the spooks of a thousand hounds.
Reference to "The Howling Tower", a Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser story.
>"Don't worry." He grinned. "We'll be sneaking real *quiet*,
>like."
This *really* sounds like a ref, but I don't recognise it, and neither does
Google.
> I'm sick of playing cards
>against Hort anyway, he always wins.
I'm *convinced* there's a ref here as well. So far, however, the best I've come
up with is that "Hort" is sometimes used as an abreviatoon for "Horticulture"
and "Gardner" is the name of a well-known mathematician and puzzle-setter
(Martin Gardner) who would, given his area of expertise, be expected to win at
cards.
Yeah, well. It's a theory...
> He seemed to be
>setting up some kind of solitary game,
I was tensed for a joke about how the guards needed patience. Thank you for
resisting.
(There's a version of patience called Seahaven Towers
<http://www.bvssolitaire.com/rules/seahaven_towers.htm>, which could describe
the whole stronghold, but even Marco wouldn't do *that* to us...)
> moved around too much for Villtin to safely sneak
>up to him and strangle him quietly.
Despite their bloodthirsty talk, have our heroes actually killed *anyone* thus
far?
>Villtin gaped. So *that's* why there was such ambiguity about
>whether Sherilob was male or female. He (or she), as a
>shapeshifter, could be either.
Sherilyn, despite his posting handle, is a guy. He has expressed a total lack
of concern as to whether he is referred to as "he" or "she" on the group.
>But something had registered *something*, still. An instrument,
>looking rather like an opaque glass cube, started giving off a
>high-pitched whistling sound.
This sounds very similar to the UU's thaumometers, except they don't whistle.
>OK
There is indeed much disagreement about where OK comes from, and theories do
indeed include bad spelling and the initials of (amongst others) a politician.
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okay#Origins
Dom
I didn't pick up on that one, but "El Perro" (The Dog?) sounds very
like "El Torro" (The Bull?[1]) which could relate to Torak.
[1] No pun intended here.
--
Dom
afpSlave to CCA
Daibhid Ceannaideach
You could be on to something.
Perròn was, I believe, also the surname of the Argentinian dictator best known
for being married to either Elaine Page or Madonna, depending on how old you
are, but I'd be very surprised if this has any signifinance whatsoever.
Richard Bos
> Perrņn was, I believe, also the surname of the Argentinian dictator best known
> for being married to either Elaine Page or Madonna, depending on how old you
> are, but I'd be very surprised if this has any signifinance whatsoever.
No, that's with one r, and the accent the other way 'round.
Richard
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 05/05/04 20:13 GMT Daylight Time
Ah, yes. And Elaine Paige has another "i" in it.
Gideon Hallett
news:20040505072032...@mb-m06.aol.com:
>>
>>From: sphir...@aol.com (CCA)
>>Date: 02/05/04 11:41 GMT Daylight Time
>>Message-id: <20040502064110...@mb-m15.aol.com>
>>
<snip>
>
> The camouflage gear suggests so. Deliberately cast against
> type, of course. (Given Torak's famed fedoras and trilbys, I'm
> surprised the 70's-pimp broad-brimmed hat wasn't mentioned as
> part of the ensemble).
>
> "Perro" is Spanish for "dog", hence Tily calling him "doggy
> boy". I am unaware if this has further significance, beyond
> soundling like "Andrew Perry".
Well, somewhat Baconian, but I certainly wouldn't put it past Marco
and Orjan...
You may have been aware that a film version of Starsky and Hutch
was released recently (if you were living on this planet).
And playing the part of 70s-archetype pimp-threaded Huggy Bear was
one Snoop 'Doggy' Dogg.
Rgemini
<thnip>
> Side note: it can be
> bloody difficult to think of a random name for a secondary
> character sometimes.
You could try Perry as a name.
...
Perry Stalsis.
...
That should move things on a bit.
<gdrvf>
Rgemini, who shall remain sigless.
Marco Villalta
> From: dom...@blueyonder.co.uk (Dom)
>>>>
>>>> Annotations coming up...
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>> .
>>>>
>>>>> "Nah, nah, don't be shy. It just so happens I can supply with
>>>>> all the bitches you can eat. However you like 'em, I's got
>>>>> 'em. If you wanna know where the ladies are at, you come ask
>>>>> me, Andrés 'El Perro' Perròn".
>>>>
>>>> Torak? *g*
>>>
>>> The camouflage gear suggests so. Deliberately cast against type,
>>> of course.
You can say that again. Don't say I didn't warn you, I've said
several times that it would be out of character, and it doesn't
get much more out of character than that... Is "poon" a word
that has even considered entering Torak's vocabulary?
Bonus points if you can find the "specific reference" I've
mentioned.
>>> (Given Torak's famed fedoras and trilbys, I'm surprised the
>>> 70's-pimp broad-brimmed hat wasn't mentioned as part of the
>>> ensemble).
I'm not that knowledgeable (sp?) about 70s' pimps. Nor of pimps
today, but reading Sinfest <http://sinfest.net/> and catching a
certin episode of Michael Moore's The Awful Truth helped a bit
with the language.
>>> "Perro" is Spanish for "dog", hence Tily calling him "doggy boy".
>>> I am unaware if this has further significance, beyond soundling
>>> like "Andrew Perry".
>>
>> I didn't pick up on that one, but "El Perro" (The Dog?) sounds
>> very like "El Torro" (The Bull?[1]) which could relate to Torak.
>
> You could be on to something.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! It's just a soundalike.
> Perròn was, I believe, also the surname of the Argentinian
> dictator best known for being married to either Elaine Page or
> Madonna, depending on how old you are, but I'd be very surprised
> if this has any signifinance whatsoever.
I won't surprise you.
Marco Villalta
> From: Marco Villalta marcos_b...@hotmail.com
> More annotations, of a sort:
>
>> Westala and Villtin had had some bad experience of towers, but at
>> least this one didn't howl like the spooks of a thousand hounds.
>
> Reference to "The Howling Tower", a Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser
> story.
The only one I've read so far, in fact.
>> "Don't worry." He grinned. "We'll be sneaking real *quiet*,
>> like."
>
> This *really* sounds like a ref, but I don't recognise it, and
> neither does Google.
Line lifted from Han Solo in _Return Of The Jedi_. About as
significant as the line "Oh, yeah, right, I almost forgot" and
the constant repetition of "Right" in Ep. 13 being lifted
directly out of _Alien_.
>> I'm sick of playing cards against Hort anyway, he always wins.
>
> I'm *convinced* there's a ref here as well. So far, however, the
> best I've come up with is that "Hort" is sometimes used as an
> abreviatoon for "Horticulture" and "Gardner" is the name of a
> well-known mathematician and puzzle-setter (Martin Gardner) who
> would, given his area of expertise, be expected to win at cards.
>
> Yeah, well. It's a theory...
A very neat one, too. Totally irrelevant, since there is no
reference here, but a clang^W theory well done.
I seem to be very good at hitting things shooting blindly...
>> He seemed to be setting up some kind of solitary game,
>
> I was tensed for a joke about how the guards needed patience.
> Thank you for resisting.
Had it occured to me, you would not have been spared. ;-D
> (There's a version of patience called Seahaven Towers
> <http://www.bvssolitaire.com/rules/seahaven_towers.htm>, which
> could describe the whole stronghold, but even Marco wouldn't do
> *that* to us...)
It is a nice coincidence, though.
>> moved around too much for Villtin to safely sneak
>> up to him and strangle him quietly.
>
> Despite their bloodthirsty talk, have our heroes actually killed
> *anyone* thus far?
Yes. <http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/chapter2_a.html#ep13>
Then there is^W was Gladia Terminatrix, who while not de facto
killed, died as a direct consequence of Newra separating the cart
from the horses (Ep. 17).
>> Villtin gaped. So *that's* why there was such ambiguity about
>> whether Sherilob was male or female. He (or she), as a
>> shapeshifter, could be either.
>
> Sherilyn, despite his posting handle, is a guy. He has expressed
> a total lack of concern as to whether he is referred to as "he"
> or "she" on the group.
This has very little significance, though. All I wanted to do
was display Sherilob's shapeshifting abilities, first mentioned
by Orjan, and took the most readily available and obvious
example.
>> But something had registered *something*, still. An instrument,
>> looking rather like an opaque glass cube, started giving off a
>> high-pitched whistling sound.
>
> This sounds very similar to the UU's thaumometers, except they
> don't whistle.
Bravo. That's part one of this double ref.
>> OK
>
> There is indeed much disagreement about where OK comes from, and
> theories do indeed include bad spelling and the initials of
> (amongst others) a politician. See
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okay#Origins
The *point*, however, is that "okay" would -- probably -- be
Earth-specific. Which raises interesting questions about why
people in other (fictional) universes use it too. Now you know.
Hmmm. Wikipedia lists a few other appreviations in this style:
"[...] and KY, "know yuse" (no use), none of which have
survived."
So, what's the jelly for?
Daibhid Ceannaideach
>> There is indeed much disagreement about where OK comes from, and
>> theories do indeed include bad spelling and the initials of
>> (amongst others) a politician. See
>> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okay#Origins
>
>The *point*, however, is that "okay" would -- probably -- be
>Earth-specific. Which raises interesting questions about why
>people in other (fictional) universes use it too. Now you know.
Pull on that thread and you start wondering why they all speak English (even if
they call it "The Common Tougue" or "Morporkian"). The obvious answer, and the
one Tolkien gives, is they don't; it's all translated. Which means they aren't
saying "okay", either. On the Disc, of course, Morporkian *is* modern English,
although many words have arrived at the exact same meanings by very different
routes, and "OK" doubtlessly has an etymology as bizarre (to us) as
"photographer" or "complex".
Oh, and I've just noticed a similarity between the "OK" explanation and Adams'
jynnan tonnyx...
Marco Villalta
[origins of OK]
>> The *point*, however, is that "okay" would -- probably -- be
>> Earth-specific. Which raises interesting questions about why
>> people in other (fictional) universes use it too. Now you know.
>
> Pull on that thread and you start wondering why they all speak
> English (even if they call it "The Common Tougue" or "Morporkian").
> The obvious answer, and the one Tolkien gives, is they don't; it's
> all translated.
This is, of course, all too true. My excuse is that I don't
think language and etymology necessarily evolve the same way. Or
something -- it's almost one in the morning and I'm not terribly
coherent at the moment.
But pulling a bit more on the thread, just for the hell of it: if
we, for the sake of argument, subscribe to one of the theories
that the acronym came first... then the obvious question becomes
"what's so special with O and K?"
> Oh, and I've just noticed a similarity between the "OK" explanation
> and Adams' jynnan tonnyx...
Hm. Had forgotten about that one, but yes, the parallels are
quite clear. Neat.
Graycat
<the tale, part lots>
Annotations, mine and others:
- Camouflage clad pimp
Torak of afp. He is called Andrés "El Perro" Perron because
Andrés Perron sounds kind of like Andrew Perry. Both Andrés
and Andrew are actually derived from the Greek name Andreas,
which is also a Swedish name. Possibly there is a connection
between El Perro (meaning the dog) and the fact that there
is a pimp in the new Starsky and Hutch movie who is played
by Snoop Doggy Dogg. Tily's "doggy boy" refers to the El
Perro, but could also refer to Doggy. Finally "No! Tily!
Bad!" is language one might use towards an unruly dog. El
Perro also keeps referring to his ehrm, employes as
"bitches", ie female dogs.
- poon
I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
- centavo
cent, but in spanish.
- tower, howl like the spooks of a thousand hounds.
In "The Howling Tower" Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser find a
tower in which the howling ghosts of a pack of guard dogs
reside.
- We'll be sneaking real *quiet* like
Han Solo in Return of the Jedi.
- octopus...es? -pusi? -pusii?
This annotation really belongs wherever we saw the devices
first, and that's where I'll put it. But I'm bringing it up
now anyway. Every now and then discussions arise arguing the
correct way to pluralise latin words in english, here and on
#afp. One such discussion that's been had at least a couple
of times is about "virus".
- Wstfgl
Demon in Eric - Or was he Astfgl?
- solitary game
well, solitaire.
- Swisho lighter
Zippo lighter
- Swisho, Rubbo, Piano, Gringo, Gladdo
Zeppo, Gummo, Harpo, Chico, Groucho Marx
- ambiguity about the sex of Sherilob
Sherilyn is a cross dresser.
- flash of another shape, involved metallic spider legs
Don't know about the metal, but Shelob is a spider.
- OK
There is a lot of argument and confusion about the origin of
this expression here on earth as well.
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 11/05/04 16:26 GMT Daylight Time
>- Wstfgl
>Demon in Eric - Or was he Astfgl?
Ooh, missed that one! The demon *was* Astfgl. But "wstfgl" as a muffled sound
upon waking in an afp story is almost certainly a reference to the following:
+ [p. 52] "'Wstfgl?' said Agnes."
The earliest occurrence of this non-word that anyone has yet reported is in
Asterix the Legionary, when Obelix catches sight of the beautiful Fabella.
Terry says: "You've got me there... I thought I'd just strung together some
letters!"
But there's something about this set of letters, because Ptraci says the same
thing in Pyramids, and in Feet of Clay, in her sleep, Sybil says 'wsfgl'.
There's also Astfgl, the 'villain' of Eric. More significantly, if you search
for "wstfgl" on the Web, you'll find it cropping up in all sorts of apparently
unrelated stories in a similar context -- the noise people make when they're
either asleep or lost for words.
We may be witnessing the birth of a new word.
(Annotated Practhett File "Carpe Jugulum")
Orjan Westin
> On Sat, 1 May 2004 23:50:34 +0200, Marco Villalta
> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>
> <the tale, part lots>
>
> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
www.sinfest.net My impression is that "poon" is vagina. This is also where
Marco picked up "ho" as a synonym for "whore". The pimp's language could be
taken from Slick pretty much straight away.
> - ambiguity about the sex of Sherilob
> Sherilyn is a cross dresser.
No. Sherilyn is the posting handle of a man called Anthony. The gender
ambiguity is common, and no explanation has been given, but I am pretty sure
he has denied being a cross dresser.
So... the last part is going up on the net ... soon?
Orjan
Stacie Hanes
> Graycat wrote:
>> On Sat, 1 May 2004 23:50:34 +0200, Marco Villalta
>> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>>
>> <the tale, part lots>
>>
>> - poon
>> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
>
> www.sinfest.net My impression is that "poon" is vagina. This is
> also where Marco picked up "ho" as a synonym for "whore". The
> pimp's language could be taken from Slick pretty much straight away.
>
Argh. I wish it fell to someone else to explain this.
"Poon" isn't vagina. The formality index does not match. "Pussy" is a better
synonym. If one is trying to "get some poon" one wishes not only to find a
vagina, but, one assumes, also interact with it. The word "poon" is a noun
with some connotations more readily associated with verbs, incorporating the
sense of action as well as the thing itself.
--
Stacie, fourth swordswoman of the afpocalypse.
"If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be a horrible
warning." Catherine Aird, _His Burial Too_
"swordswomen of the afpocalypse" copyright Jon of afp, 2004.
Orjan Westin
> Orjan Westin wrote:
>> Graycat wrote:
>>> On Sat, 1 May 2004 23:50:34 +0200, Marco Villalta
>>> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>>>
>>> <the tale, part lots>
>>>
>>> - poon
>>> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
>>
>> www.sinfest.net My impression is that "poon" is vagina.
>>
>
> Argh. I wish it fell to someone else to explain this.
>
> "Poon" isn't vagina. The formality index does not match. "Pussy" is a
> better synonym. If one is trying to "get some poon" one wishes not
> only to find a vagina, but, one assumes, also interact with it. The
> word "poon" is a noun with some connotations more readily associated
> with verbs, incorporating the sense of action as well as the thing
> itself.
Ah. Like, it is both the cake and the eating of it? Well, I was halfway
there...
Sinfest, by the way, is at times one of the most scathing cartoons
available. And the "Resistance" - the column of the author - is usually both
interesting and amusing.
Orjan
Rocky Frisco
> - poon
> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
From "poontang" meaning the female sex organs and, by extension, sex
with a female..
This is from the Spanish "puta."
> - OK
> There is a lot of argument and confusion about the origin of
> this expression here on earth as well.
An early euphemism for cocaine.
-Rock http://www.rocky-frisco.com
--
JJ Cale Live CD and video: http://www.rocky-frisco.com/calelive.htm
The Wednesday Night Science Project: http://www.wednitesciproj.us
Rocky Frisco's LIBERTY website: http://www.liberty-in-our-time.com/
Stacie Hanes
> Stacie Hanes wrote:
>> Orjan Westin wrote:
>>> Graycat wrote:
>>>> On Sat, 1 May 2004 23:50:34 +0200, Marco Villalta
>>>> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>>>>
>>>> <the tale, part lots>
>>>>
>>>> - poon
>>>> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
>>>
>>> www.sinfest.net My impression is that "poon" is vagina.
>>>
>> <snip>
>>
>> Argh. I wish it fell to someone else to explain this.
>>
>> "Poon" isn't vagina. The formality index does not match. "Pussy"
>> is a better synonym. If one is trying to "get some poon" one
>> wishes not only to find a vagina, but, one assumes, also interact
>> with it. The word "poon" is a noun with some connotations more
>> readily associated with verbs, incorporating the sense of action
>> as well as the thing itself.
>
> Ah. Like, it is both the cake and the eating of it? Well, I was
> halfway there...
Right. Very good analogy. I haven't worked out whether it's exact, but it's
close. The P-word is the V-word with added connotations of "ready, willing,
able, and, sometimes, for sale."
> Sinfest, by the way, is at times one of the most scathing cartoons
> available. And the "Resistance" - the column of the author - is
> usually both interesting and amusing.
Yes. A few months ago someone here mentioned Sinfest. I went to the site and
looked at the strip they'd mentioned. Then I spent the next two hours
reading the entire series, beginning to end. I subscribed to the mailing
list and now Sinfest comes to my inbox every morning. I use it in my comp
classes, too--usually a couple of the God/Satan hand-puppet strips.
Graycat
<marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
a whole bunch of stuff, all of which can now be found on
http://www.student.lu.se/~his02ero/ also soon playing on a
timeline near you.
Annotations coming up.
Graycat
<nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> jotted down:
Oh, I thought he was one. Well, it's not been webbified yet,
so I don't even have to vahnge it :o)
>So... the last part is going up on the net ... soon?
See post further down the thread.
Alec Cawley
<nos...@cunobaros.demon.co.uk> writes
On the contrary, he has boasted of it, though possibly not in this
forum. I recall one post boasting of how his daughter admired his dirndl
as he tucked her down for the night. Goole Groups on "sherilyn daughter
dress".
--
@lec Šawley
CCA
[W&V annotations]
>- flash of another shape, involved metallic spider legs
>Don't know about the metal, but Shelob is a spider
It's probably not where Marco got it from (ICBW though), but the metallic
spider legs remind me of the evil shapeshifting creature in Stephen King's
'It', for which spoilers are coming up...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The shapeshifting creature uses a gigantic black spider as its sort of
'default' shape (although it spends most of its time as a clown)
CCA:)
Family Bites Website and Sample Chapter at http://www.falboroughhall.co.uk
Live Journal at http://www.livejournal.com/users/ciciaye
Marco Villalta
> From: Graycat gra...@passagen.se
>> - Wstfgl
>> Demon in Eric - Or was he Astfgl?
>
> Ooh, missed that one! The demon *was* Astfgl. But "wstfgl" as a
> muffled sound upon waking in an afp story is almost certainly a
> reference to the following:
>
> + [p. 52] "'Wstfgl?' said Agnes."
Glad I got it right -- was going from memory, didn't bother to
look it up.
Marco Villalta
> Graycat wrote:
>> Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>>
>> <the tale, part lots>
>>
>> - poon
>> I'm guessing genuine slang, but where from and why?
>
> www.sinfest.net My impression is that "poon" is vagina. This is
> also where Marco picked up "ho" as a synonym for "whore". The
> pimp's language could be taken from Slick pretty much straight
> away.
Both "poon" and "ho" are quite widespread,[1] but like I said in
an earlier post, Sinfest did help me a bit.
--------
[1] Prize awarded to the first person who says something clever
about that sentence.
Marco Villalta
> Graycat wrote
>
> [W&V annotations]
>
>> - flash of another shape, involved metallic spider legs
>> Don't know about the metal, but Shelob is a spider
>
> (ICBW though),
No, you're right. I have read (or seen) It, or in fact anyone
else of King's books. And now that you described it, I'm not
likely to either -- spiders and clowns, yergh...
I'll give you a hint about the reference, though. The spider
legs -- well, we have room for a monster. The metallic nature of
them is a ref to a Usenet-poster category, which I saw someone
describe Sherilob^H^H^H lyn as on some occasion or other.
Orjan Westin
>
> <gestures to Orjan to take over and starts digging into lunch>
Well, what can I say? I'd never behave like... Oh! Chargrilled emu! Well,
just a bite then.
<chomp>
Actually, I thought you'd leave Villtin hanging on the cliff, but nevermind.
<chomp>
So. If you don't mind, I'll take a break now and then,
<glares at Marco>
...so I can get some lunch too. If I spend as much time telling this story
as
I have before, I fear someone might empty my plate.
* * *
Gideoallet was... well, more prowling than patrolling. A sudden gust of
wind extinguished the torch, leaving him standing in the faint starlight,
cursing. He waited a while, to allow his eyes to get used to the darkness,
them moved carefully on. The houses he passed on the street all had
carefully closed shutters, letting no light escape from within. If, indeed,
there was any light within, he thought wryly. It was hard to tell,
nowadays, which houses were empty and abandoned, and which were simply
barricaded by frightened people.
The sound of approaching steps from a crossing street just ahead made him
slow down and transfer the useless torch to his left hand, getting ready to
unsheath his rapier. In his mind, prudence and curiosity had a brief fight,
leaving the former beaten and sulking, ready to say "I told you so", then he
silently pressed his back to the wall and sidled towards the street corner.
Flickering light revealed that the group - for he could hear the footfalls
of many studded boots on the cobbled street - carried torches, so he did not
peer around the corner, but waited, instead. Soon, he saw a man with a
scarred face, dressed in the private livery of some noble, followed by more
guards, armed with halberds and carrying torches. Stupid, the thought,
they'd have to drop the torches to use their weapons properly. Just then,
the leader spotted him.
"Well, hello! What do we have here?" he shouted, holding up a hand to halt
those following. "A skulker, it seems. What are you doing out at this
hour?"
The man took a torch from one of the halberdiers and held it aloft. "Armed,
too, I see, and carrying an unlit torch. Why would anyone walk around in
the dark with an unlit torch, I wonder?"
Gideoallet studied the group. The halberdiers looked like the kind of men
who would be known to even their mothers as "Butcher" or "Slasher", lacking
the capacity to remember a name that wasn't derived from their sole purpose
in life, but the leader seemed to be an intellectual in comparison. Well,
so would a slug, but he did appear to be more curious than hostile.
"I'm looking for an honest man", Gideoallet said, coming out from the
shadows.
"I am an honest man."
"Really?"
"Would I lie to you?" the man grinned.
Gideoallet smiled. "I hope not. Actually, my torch was blown out by the
wind as I was on my way to ..."
"Lady Gleur's manor!"
The man who had interrupted him came out from behind the halberdiers.
"Good thing we met you, Gideoallet, I was just pondering whether I should
ask captain Pinchogal here to make a detour to pick you up, but I see you
decided to meet us along the way."
"Oh, hello, Roi." Gideoallet nodded to the man, hiding his confusion.
Roi Nimco was a man who described himself as 'poet, thespian, musician and
bon vivant', a phrase most people would equate with the more manageable
label 'bum'. What game he was playing now was anybody's guess, but
Gideoallet decided to tag along, to see what would happen.
"I was not informed of this." The scarred man, now identified as captain
Pinchogal, rubbed his chin. "He's out after curfew, and milady Gleur is a
staunch supporter of the need for civil order. He should be taken into
custody, or possibly beaten to teach him the error of his ways. You do not
skulk around armed without punishment."
The guards come to attention at the prospect of a little diversionary
violence.
"Do not be ridiculous, captain!" Roi drew on all of his considerate powers
as an actor to fill his voice with contempt. "I have been comissioned by
your mistress to write and produce the best play ever made about her
honourable ancestors, and in order to do so I need this man. He's working
for me, as an expert of fighting on stage. He's not armed, he's merely
bringing a prop for the production."
Pinchogal looked at Roi for a moment, then grunted and signalled for the men
to fall in. Gideoallet found himself surrounded by thugs, beside Roi, and
hustled along.
"So, what's this all about?" he whispered.
"Like I said, I've got a comission. The first of the line, Apollonios, was
by all surviving accounts a bad un' and I'll ... present another angle of
him." Roi kept his voice down. "You patrolling?"
"Yes." Gideoallet sighed. "Sometimes I think 'Why me?', but then I tell
myself 'If not you, then who else?' and go out again." He walked in silence
for a while. "Lady Gleur? I thought it was, what's his name, Sir Jean Gleur
who held the title?"
Roi shrugged. "Well, yes. Apparently his sister holds it now - lady Jean
Gleur. She's been having quite an impact on the social circuit lately, with
lavish dances and parties."
Gideoallet nodded. He paid scant attention to the nobles, but knew that Roi
moved in the most diverse circles. Personally, he preferred to keep his
circles undisturbed.
* * *
Villtin tensed and held his breath. Slowly, careful to make no sound, he
readied a throwing knife. He might be able to get one of them by surprise.
After that, well...
"What is that?" Sherilob asked.
Bos looked up. "Oh. Well, it's a sensor of a sorts. It detects movements
of magic items in the vincinity."
Villtin thought unkindly thoughts at the dragon.
"I would have thought there were plenty of magical creatures hereabouts."
Sherilob noted politely.
"Oh, absolutely, but it's tuned to dead matter only. There are plenty of
curious items in the area. For instance, we found those." Bos pointed to a
shelf. On it, Villtin could see nine figures, about a foot tall,
exquisitely carved from some translucent golden material.
"Would that be the nine princes of legend?" Sherilob asked.
"Yes, Maladict, Roi, Gaius... all of them. They are supposed to enable you
to travel between worlds, but we haven't been able to figure out how, yet."
Bos returned his attention to the glass cube, frowning.
"A-ha!" Ballong exclaimed. "Focus!"
He peered intently into the cube. "Zere iz unuzually much ztatic
interferenze... But it appearz to be a ztaff of zome zort. Incroyable! I
can not focus properly... Oui, a ztaff... Made to control ze mind...
perhapz..."
Villtin saw Sherilob stiffen. Then there was a repeat of the uncanny
transformation. Villtin closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, a
tall, handsome man stood there.
"A staff to control the mind? Would it be about six foot tall, ornately
carved, and emanating a sense of... rationality?"
Ballong fiddled with the cube before he answered. "Oui, very possible...
But ze interferenze... It iz as if it iz both close and far away..."
"What is it?" Bos asked. "Do you know what it is?"
"I fear so," Sherilob said, "but the interference? If this item is what I
think it is, it should be very strong."
Villtin carefully patted one of his pockets. The little adobe brick was
still there, and he sent Peterwok a grateful thought.
"Well, maybe it's the mountains." Bos said. "It appears to be far away. So
what is it?"
"It is the Staff of Sista."
"Never heard of it. What does it do?"
"It promotes rationality." Sherilob said. "I've been searching for it in the
caves of Magdala for a very long time, but every time I've thought I've come
close it is as if someone has snatched it from my grasp."
"Rationality? Iz zat all?" Ballong asked.
"All? Do you have any idea what that means? It means that if it were to be
brought into the city, your little business would be over, since people
would not be affected by your satires, or intimidated. They would realise
that they could stand up against you if they but joined together. The Cult
of Me would lose their followers, since people wouldn't need the peer
approval. It would strip people of prejudices, of irrational fears and
superstitions."
Villtin smiled. Westala's elf-staff seemed a very potent weapon indeed.
"Ah. Well. Let's wait a while and see if it comes closer." Bos said
smoothly. "It might not be that - there was a lot of interference, and I
couldn't get any focus at all. How about we go and have some dinner, shall
we?"
Villtin waited until the three magicians had departed, then left the hall to
continue scouting.
* * *
Right, if I can just have some smoked trout, I'll continue afterwards.
Orjan
Lister
alt.fan.pratchett . Marco Villalta <marcos_b...@hotmail.com>
chose this moment to say the following
>
>Both "poon" and "ho" are quite widespread,[1] but like I said in
>an earlier post, Sinfest did help me a bit.
>
>--------
>[1] Prize awarded to the first person who says something clever
>about that sentence.
Aww, you've taken all the fun out of it now :P
--
Hokey Pokey
---------------------------
Third leg in, third leg out
In, out, in, out, shake it all about
Brian Wakeling
Graycat uttered thus:
> On Sat, 1 May 2004 23:50:34 +0200, Marco Villalta
> <marcos_b...@hotmail.com> jotted down:
>
> <the tale, part lots>
>
>
> Annotations, mine and others:
>
>
> - Wstfgl
> Demon in Eric - Or was he Astfgl?
Astfgl
<snip>
> - flash of another shape, involved metallic spider legs
> Don't know about the metal, but Shelob is a spider.
Aha! It has suddenly hit me!
In the 1998 (possibly) film "Lost in Space" (starring Matt
LeBlanc, Gary Oldman and
forsomereasonmybrainishandingmethename Mimi Rogers), the
Robinsons have to board a spaceship that has been taken over
by metallic spiders about the size of large terriers.
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
"He who laughs last thinks slowest"
Brian Wakeling
Orjan Westin uttered thus:
> Marco Villalta wrote:
>>
>> <gestures to Orjan to take over and starts digging into
>> lunch>
>
> Well, what can I say? I'd never behave like... Oh!
> Chargrilled emu! Well, just a bite then.
If it's Rod Hull's, I'm sure no-one will mind.
<snip>
> "Armed, too, I see, and carrying an unlit torch.
> Why would anyone walk around in the dark with an unlit
> torch, I wonder?"
> ...
> "I'm looking for an honest man", Gideoallet said, coming
> out from the shadows.
Not only Didactylos in SG - there's a myth-type-thing that a
certain Greek-era blind man carried an unlit lantern to find
an honest man. It may have been Tiereseus.
<snip>
> "Yes." Gideoallet sighed. "Sometimes I think 'Why me?', but
> then I tell myself 'If not you, then who else?' and go out
> again." He walked in silence for a while. "Lady Gleur? I
> thought it was, what's his name, Sir Jean Gleur who held
> the title?"
>
> Roi shrugged. "Well, yes. Apparently his sister holds it
> now - lady Jean Gleur. She's been having quite an impact
> on the social circuit lately, with lavish dances and
> parties."
The nobles' names, if given the French pronunciation their
spelling suggests, sound like Jongleurs, the famous comedy and
cabaret club chain.
> Gideoallet nodded. He paid scant attention to the nobles,
> but knew that Roi moved in the most diverse circles.
> Personally, he preferred to keep his circles undisturbed.
Magic circles are best left undisturbed by non-magic users.
Also another SG ref, as Didactylos asks the Omnian soldiery
not to disturb his circles - and to come back after he's
actually drawn them. Also, I'm pretty sure that event was
based on a Greek philosopher being arrested.
<snip intrigue>
Oooh. Things are getting intruiging...
--
Sabremeister Brian :-)
Use b dot wakeling at virgin dot net to reply
http://freespace.virgin.net/b.wakeling/index.html
Someone pass me that shovel
Daibhid Ceannaideach
Date: 12/05/04 23:41 GMT Daylight Time
>The metallic nature of
>them is a ref to a Usenet-poster category, which I saw someone
>describe Sherilob^H^H^H lyn as on some occasion or other.
I have spent far too long researching this minor point, when I should have been
tucked up in bed hours ago, but are we talking about this?:
http://www.winternet.com/~mikelr/flame62.html
Daibhid Ceannaideach
>From: "Brian Wakeling" bpwak...@hotmail.com
>Date: 13/05/04 00:58 GMT Daylight Time
>Message-id: <2gfs0jF...@uni-berlin.de>
>
>In a speech called 2gfnheF...@uni-berlin.de,
>Orjan Westin uttered thus:
>> Marco Villalta wrote:
>>>
>>> <gestures to Orjan to take over and starts digging into
>>> lunch>
>>
>> Well, what can I say? I'd never behave like... Oh!
>> Chargrilled emu! Well, just a bite then.
>
>If it's Rod Hull's, I'm sure no-one will mind.
>
><snip>
>> "Armed, too, I see, and carrying an unlit torch.
>> Why would anyone walk around in the dark with an unlit
>> torch, I wonder?"
>> ...
>> "I'm looking for an honest man", Gideoallet said, coming
>> out from the shadows.
>
>Not only Didactylos in SG - there's a myth-type-thing that a
>certain Greek-era blind man carried an unlit lantern to find
>an honest man. It may have been Tiereseus.
Diogenes the Cynic. Very much the main inspiraton for Didactylos, and also
someone with whom Gideon would probably have got on very well.
Incidentally, I have never "got" the whole unlit-lantern, blind, honest-man
thing. I suspect it hinges on an Ancient Greek pun everyone's forgotten.
><snip>
>> "Yes." Gideoallet sighed. "Sometimes I think 'Why me?', but
>> then I tell myself 'If not you, then who else?' and go out
>> again."
"Why me?" is the refrain of the Belgariad, and is eventually answered with
something like "Would you have trusted anyone else?"
"If Not You, Who Else?" is the back cover copy on the original hardback "Only
You Can Save Mankind".
The whole idea is a recurring topic in Pterry's work, most notably with Susan.
<snip>
>> Gideoallet nodded. He paid scant attention to the nobles,
>> but knew that Roi moved in the most diverse circles.
>> Personally, he preferred to keep his circles undisturbed.
>
>Magic circles are best left undisturbed by non-magic users.
>Also another SG ref, as Didactylos asks the Omnian soldiery
>not to disturb his circles - and to come back after he's
>actually drawn them. Also, I'm pretty sure that event was
>based on a Greek philosopher being arrested.
Archimedes, when the Romans took the city.