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McAnally's (The Community Pub) => Author Craft => Topic started by: seradhe on February 20, 2008, 07:13:54 PM

Title: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on February 20, 2008, 07:13:54 PM
I'm not sure if this has popped up before (and obviously before my time if it has), but I have to try.

One of my favorite writing practices in college was the round table. the entire class sat in a circle, the teacher gave us the opening line, and passed the paper all the way around. Everyone added 1-5 sentences continuing the storyline, and the final product was read back at the end of the day.

I've never done this on a forum (though I am sure it has been done before someplace), but I think it could be fun. And the potential for the story to be near-endless is too good to pass up.

rules.
These are open for variation, since I'm new to the mechanics of something like this. I'm using corrupt-a-wish as a basis for some of the rules

1. Keep it between 1 and 5 sentences each post. This is not gonna be heavily frowned upon if broken, but at the same time, a multi-paragraph post is a no-no
2. Try not to follow yourself in posting. I see this as a variation on rule #1. but if no one adds a line for weeks, and you want to, go ahead
3. be considerate of the storyline. This could potentially go anywhere, but "and suddenly a ninja jumps out" would look kinda hokey.
4. quote the last line before your addition. This is just so we can all read the story in sequence, filtering out posts not part of the round table.
5. if, when you post,you get the "warning, a reply has been made recently", please take note if this is an addition to the story and don't post yours. I know this is a nasty rule, especially if this thread gets some high traffic. but this isn't an addventure, and things could get really messy really fast.

Let me know what you all think, if there is a definite positive opinion on this, I'll post the first line and let go of the reigns  :P
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Murphy's Stunt Double on February 20, 2008, 07:49:10 PM
Well, come on then, bring it on!
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: tagnizkur on February 20, 2008, 08:22:25 PM
Oh I have done stuff like this, but they made it harder.  It was called the one word story.  Each person was allowed to add only one word.  Around and around it went until the whole page was filled.  So yeah, start one up!
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Ryan on February 22, 2008, 11:09:24 PM
It was a dark and stormy knight, and unfortunately, as far as I knew, Batman was fictional. And didn't rock chainmail. Or the weather.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 23, 2008, 12:27:15 AM
It was a dark and stormy knight, and unfortunately, as far as I knew, Batman was fictional. And didn't rock chainmail. Or the weather.

I looked out my bedroom window and couldn't believe that an honest to God knight was literally standing out in the rain in a huge puddle.  I mean I'm up for a little role playing now and then but this was ridiculous.  Who the heck was he waiting for?  His normally (assumed) cocky feather was limp and gave him a generally demoralized look, not at all the image of a mighty knight.  The rain had to be dribbling all over him inside that suit and I wondered how much water was filling up inside his boots?  The guy had to be lost.   Should I invite him in to dry off and if so, could I do it without laughing at him?
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Ryan on February 23, 2008, 03:45:14 AM
Shrugging into my lime green PVC raincoat, I realized that I was a pot and he was a kettle (granted, more literally on his end, more kitschily on mine) and laughing would be wrong, or at least really hypocritical. Still, a depressed-looking knight in your yard-- it's inherently funny, and I probably wouldn't have been able to help myself, until I tossed my kitchen for a flashlight and found it, all corroded to hell by battery acid. Which meant... Crap.

I went back to my room to retrieve my Force FX lightsaber. If it was going to be a duel for the silliness mantle, I was totally bringing it.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Meowsan on February 23, 2008, 07:38:08 AM
"And Suddenly A Ninja Jumps Out" was shining brightly on the billboard by the highway not far from here i as glanced out the window. Just Great, another cheesy movie by John Woo. My jaw dropped as I noticed the fact that the ninja on the billboard was none other than... Sylvester Stallone? My freaky little Mr Potato of a God, what have Hollywood done to the legendary man? My mind was pondering away on how evil hollywood was and maybe i should finish up writing that raving protest letter to George Lucas after going through the new Star Wars Series that a moaning shawdowy lump of something the size of a mini van crashed through the wall with the window towards me. Without my realization, my very first reaction was flicking that Force FX lightsaber to life. Then perhaps a big old by the book gulp.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on February 23, 2008, 05:13:22 PM
Without my realization, my very first reaction was flicking that Force FX lightsaber to life. Then perhaps a big old by the book gulp.

The FX Lightsaber illuminated the room in a wavering green glow, showing me a mass of thick fur covering whatever had crashed. two bright dots, reflecting the light, centered on me and the whole bulk of it began turning. What could I do? in sheer reflex I lunged with the my mockery of a weapon, the dull plastic tip poking the thing right in the eye. It roared, and I was gone, already leaping out the hole in my wall and towards that depressing knight. He just stood there.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 23, 2008, 06:22:56 PM
edited: forgot to quote the last line...  Dah...  "It roared, and I was gone, already leaping out the hole in my wall and towards that depressing knight. He just stood there."

I yelled at the knight, "if that f***** THING that just crashed into my house has anything to do with you, I am seriously suing your metal arse!"  The THING was hot on my heels and my plastic light sabre was not going to work as a surprise weapon twice--unless the THING was a complete idiot.  I raced past the knight, shifted my mighty Star Wars weapon into my left hand, and struggled to find my car keys in my jeans pocket.  I heard the knight moving at last and it wasn't towards the THING.  He ran fast, I'll give him that, noisy clanking sounds, but fast. He was beside me, easily keeping pace, but at least his sword looked like it was the real deal.  THING was close enough I could hear it breathing and growling behind us.  "Growling? Geez, where the heck did I park the D*** Scoobi Van?!?"  I sincerely hoped it hadn't been towed again...
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 24, 2008, 06:59:25 PM
He was beside me, easily keeping pace, but at least his sword looked like it was the real deal.  THING was close enough I could hear it breathing and growling behind us.  "Growling? Geez, where the heck did I park the D*** Scoobi Van?!?"  I sincerely hoped it hadn't been towed again...

The knight turned his metal and feathered head to glance at me.  A movement I heard more than saw as I was trying to run, find my keys and look for the van at the same time.  The growling seemed to be getting further away but louder.  Maybe the THING didn't like the rain.  The Knight pointed to our left and I felt a thrill of relief as I saw my dark blue-with-neon custom painted van.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw that my neighbor, who had let out his cocker spaniel to pee, was standing behind his screen door staring at me with his mouth wide open.  Or maybe he was staring at the forlorn looking knight, or the THING still growling that was behind us.  Damn, I hoped it was one of the other two as I didn't need anymore problems with the neighbors.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Meowsan on February 24, 2008, 08:14:47 PM
Damn, I hoped it was one of the other two as I didn't need anymore problems with the neighbors.

I slammed onto the driver's side of the van to unlock the door as quickly as I can with the knight just stood there beside me just I ripped it open and jumped onto the driver's seat. I gestured to the knight to get into the van but instead he laid his hand on the windshield and I felt a sudden dizziness fell upon me. It felts like going on a roller coaster once to many times. I had to close my eyes and try to concentrate not to throw up on the spot. I felt the van went tumbling down and landed with a thud on something soft like grass. Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes to look out. It was foggy, I could barely see a thing from the inside the van. I jumped as the knight knocked on the window with his iron fist. I rolled the window down with my innocent trembling hand and stared at him with a stupefied look on my face. In his dark malicious voice he said, "You are now being retained by the Fifth Order of the White Circle for the destruction of the Wildflower, and to be added to the charge, you have directly assaulted the messenger hound. You are to surrender your metal chariot as the prove to the crime and your weapon."

The fog parted and my jaw dropped.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 24, 2008, 09:15:50 PM
"Holy UN Interpretor Error, Batman."  The THING sat beside the knight, the neighbor's cocker sniffing at it's nether regions without recrimination.  Alright, at that point I did laugh, a going over the edge of sanity laugh.  My neighbor called his dog and they both disappeared back into their house.  I wondered if my chariot insurance will pay for putting my van upright again. My head was still spinning and my laughter slowly faded and I leaned over giving in to the overwhelming need to empty my stomach.  Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed. 

The knight punched through the window and shattered glass fell everywhere.  He grabbed me by the neck and hauled me out, back into the rain. I tried to swing my legs to kick him but all I connected with was open air. 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: tagnizkur on February 25, 2008, 06:47:29 PM
It had become one of those moments you only see on TV.  Hero, Heroine, trapped in a situation far to fearful to cinematicly capture.  So the director just shows a quick shot and fills the scene with blackness and then all you can hear is noise.  These are the thoughts raging through my head as I dangle there.  The rain building small puddles upon my face that try desperately to cling to my face but fail miserably falling to the earth to join the forming puddles like discarded spartan babies from that 300 movie. 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 25, 2008, 11:34:40 PM
Quote
These are the thoughts raging through my head as I dangle there.  The rain building small puddles upon my face that try desperately to cling to my face but fail miserably falling to the earth to join the forming puddles like discarded spartan babies from that 300 movie.

Time seemed to slow. It reminded me of all those people who talk about how their lives flash before their eyes as they die. Only my life didn't flash before my eyes, I spent those endless seconds pondering the world around me and a movie I saw. As you might imagine, up until this moment my life had been rather dull. No wonder I didn't want to waste time reflecting on years that I had spent bored out of my mind or erased with beer and pizza.

The knight's hand tightened on my throat, reminding me that I was in the middle of a rendition of Clint Eastwood's "Hang 'Em High", minus the rope, plus a screwed in the head paladin wannabe as wide as I was tall.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 26, 2008, 03:26:14 AM
The knight's hand tightened on my throat, reminding me that I was in the middle of a rendition of Clint Eastwood's "Hang 'Em High", minus the rope, plus a screwed in the head paladin wannabe as wide as I was tall.

"I surrender" I tried to choke, but it cam out more as "Iaaasrrrner" and I held up my hands in a surrendering gesture."  He seemed to nod in acceptance of my surrender but instead of letting me go he lifted me one-handed to pin me against the bottom of the van.  I made a few gargles of protest as some of the fragments of auto glass got under my t-shirt and beneath the waste band of my jeans.
     "you, the metal chariot and your...weapon," he disarmed me of the light saber I had managed to keep a loose hold on, looking at it as if it might do something dangerous on it's own, "will return with me and the messenger hound to the realm of the Wildflower where you will face the consequences of what you have done.  You will be allowed to tell your reasoning for the destruction you have caused before you will repent with shame in your heart and gladly be executed."
     Then he let me go and I almost fell to my knees.  Air.  Sweet humid clean air.  I gulped lungs full of it for a few seconds and managed to choke out "What...?"  I wanted to say "what the hell are you talking about" but my abused throat objected and I started to cough.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Ryan on February 26, 2008, 04:49:51 AM
Then he let me go and I almost fell to my knees.  Air.  Sweet humid clean air.  I gulped lungs full of it for a few seconds and managed to choke out "What...?"  I wanted to say "what the hell are you talking about" but my abused throat objected and I started to cough.

Thirty hacking seconds later, I could breathe again, but I kept coughing, because something that kind of had the shape of something in the plan neighborhood was forming, and I needed the time. At the full minute mark, I hunched forward, made some dry heaving sounds, and my right hand groped for a stick I'd banged my knee on moments before.

My hand wrapped around it and I straightened right up, took a big, raspy breath, raised my arm and hurled the stick, yelling "Fetch!" as loud as I could (which was almost as loud as my indoor voice). The THING took off into the night, and the knight half-turned to watch it go.

At which point I launched myself to my feet,  sort of latched onto his wrist and hand and pried the lightsaber away, and sprinted down the street, really, really wishing the weapon were real.

Of course, then it was.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 26, 2008, 05:06:31 AM
Quote
At which point I launched myself to my feet,  sort of latched onto his wrist and hand and pried the lightsaber away, and sprinted down the street, really, really wishing the weapon were real.

Of course, then it was.

As I fled down the street the pavement ripped at the bottoms of my bare feet, but the rain water was quickly numbing them. Of course, right then it didn't matter. All I knew in that moment was that if I didn't get away from the rent-a-knight behind me I wouldn't be living very long. When it comes down to it that's all that matters, when a person's life is threatened or the lives of someone they love, they'd be amazed just what they can do. I heard the thundering, chain and plate mail behind me like a demonic base drum as the Knight came up behind me at a speed that would put gold metalists to shame. Fear twisted inside me as I turned around to stare at the behemoth behind me.

I was so focused on him I didn't notice the freakin' pot hole in the middle of the road. Between tripping, and catching a variety of injuries in the process, somehow I still managed to keep my eyes on the Knight. He kept coming like a locomotive. That's right folks, he was loco and he had some serious motive to lop my head off, apparently. Again, the realization came that if he caught me again I wouldn't live to regret it. That was when an unexpected thrum of energy came from the device in my left hand as I swung it in hopes of deflecting his massive hand.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on February 26, 2008, 06:51:27 AM
That was when an unexpected thrum of energy came from the device in my left hand as I swung it in hopes of deflecting his massive hand.

I had braced myself for the inevitable impact of the plastic blade against his wrist, but the sudden lack of it caused me to spin wildly around. I tumbled down the road for a few feet, gasping and landing with a loud "oomph".

My own sounds of pain were far outdone by the roaring cry coming from the knight. As I sat up, I noticed a series of deep, perfectly-cut gouges in the asphalt along my route-of-stumbling, leading up to an armored hand.. resting at the feet of the knight.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 26, 2008, 07:46:26 AM
As I sat up, I noticed a series of deep, perfectly-cut gouges in the asphalt along my route-of-stumbling, leading up to an armored hand.. resting at the feet of the knight.

Oddly the first thing that went through my already overloaded brain was not,' How the f&%*k did I get a real light saber?' or even 'Holy Crap this knight's going to kill me!' but rather 'HEY! This is just like in Return Of The Jedi'  Then I was too busy surviving as the hound THING came back to defend it's master.  I swung in a wide arcs and the hound skidded to a halt on all fours, ears back, all six eyes squinting in anticipation of a blow.  It managed to avoid my panicked swinging that did make cool buzzing sounds and skittered to stand between it's master and myself.  the knight held his arm to his chest though it wasn't bleeding I can't imagine it didn't hurt. A lot.
     "you further condemn yourself by using the Chimeric you have stolen from the Wildflower"  he said with disgust.
     "I don't know what the hell is happening..." I ended on a hysterical angry note, took a breath and started to giggle again.  Some part of my brain registered that this wasn't helping.
     I could tell he didn't believe me by the tone of his voice, "You can't feel the power?  The bright images that are before you like picture that moves and breaths?"
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: tagnizkur on February 26, 2008, 01:54:26 PM
"Here is what I feel.  Glass in my ass from the wrecked van.  Bruises everywhere bruises shouldn't me.  A wedgie so deep that the abyss of the ocean feels for me."

I take a deep breath thinking at the same time why the hell am I being tough and beligerent at a moment like this,  and were they hell are my ruby slippers bercause I wanna go home

The knight glares at me and his digust with me only worsens.  "Now you dare mock my holy words."

The next thought that rages through my mind as the knight charges is thank goodness is raining, that way the stain I am about to make won't be so bad when my corpse is identified
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 26, 2008, 06:54:12 PM
In amazing perfect Skywalker form, I spun the lightsabre full circle, brandishing it, and the knight stopped so fast he sent water from a puddle up and it steamed as it struck the activated weapon.  The six eyed THING slid out of control and its nose pinged against the lightsabre's path, it growled in pain and backed cautiously away. 

"Not so fast, Wildflower Knight."  For emphasis I stepped forward.  The knight and the THING backed up a pace, which was heartening.  I didn't push it by taking another step.  I needed time to think, never exactly my strong point, so I needed a fair chunk of time.   I was damn sure these two were not going to let me slip into the night, they'd be after me immediately OR they'd come after me when I wasn't prepared.

"This weapon that you claim I took was a gift from a friend.  I've only had it a short time and I'm pretty sure you want the person who actually lifted it from Wildfire, right?" 

"The one who stole the light-sword must face the consequences of the Justice of Wildfire."

"Right, so you want her.  I'm an innocent in this, do you hear?  I propose we meet here tomorrow night at this exact time.  I vow, upon my honor--"  I struggled to sound official and noticed the two street signs behind the knight illuminated in the street light through the rain, "as Knight of Addison & Clark, to be here with this weapon and the person who stole it and release both to you to answer to those charges." 

I was going to kill Debbie, absolutely without question, I was going to kill her.  She'd looked suspicious when she'd carelessly left it behind in my bedroom and now I knew that it wasn't so "carelessly" left.  Damn her and her antiquity dealings in parallel worlds. I just hoped I could find her in time.  If she was on the run, it wouldn't be easy, especially if she had shifted to a parallel world.  If she'd left the lightsabre as a decoy to get them to come after me, she was on the run with something even more valuable, something that this Knight knew nothing about. SomeONE probably bigger and meaner than these two was watching and waiting.  I swore that this time, I'd hand them Debbie's head on a platter and hightail it out of Dodge.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 26, 2008, 11:34:32 PM
Quote
If she'd left the lightsabre as a decoy to get them to come after me, she was on the run with something even more valuable, something that this Knight knew nothing about. SomeONE probably bigger and meaner than these two was watching and waiting.  I swore that this time, I'd hand them Debbie's head on a platter and hightail it out of Dodge

It was a great plan. In theory. First I needed to get away from the neanderthall and his pooch. Which, in and of itself was going to be difficult. I may have had a wicked powerful weapon that could slice through that chain mail, but really my only experience with swords of any kind was a fencing class I took in fifth grade. But it would cut through anything, and that sounded like a winning-

...What the hell? Before my very eyes, the THING stalked over to the severed hand that lay on the soaking concrete. It stared at it for a moment of hesitation, before picking it up viciously in it's mouth and swallowing it whole like a bird, mail and all. I was pondering how painful it must have been as the streetlight above flickered. Something warm and prickly brushed against my cold skin. Like a balmy breeze. The streetlight reluctantly flickered back to life...and the knight's hand was back...Right where it should have been. Not even the armor showed the signs of melting off.

"It is in your possession, you are guilty despite your involvement in the theft." He said in that same monotonous voice, "You shall face your punishment. Now, will you lay down your weapon and ride on the Messenger Hound, or shall you insist on loss and ride in it?"
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 27, 2008, 01:08:03 AM
"It is in your possession, you are guilty despite your involvement in the theft." He said in that same monotonous voice, "You shall face your punishment. Now, will you lay down your weapon and ride on the Messenger Hound, or shall you insist on loss and ride in it?"  quote Qualapec

*Really cool with the hand bit...  :-)*

Plan B.. Bizerko mode, my forte anyway....

5th Grade fencing aside, my time playing Star Wars must have worn off.  I attacked with fury, the saber whirled over head as if it was choreographing the movement itself.  They backed off fast, but I was faster.  I swept the saber in an arch chopping through the knight's other hand and in the returning motion slashed at the three foot thick trunk of an oak tree beside us.  I swept back, missing the knight who retreated quickly, stumbling over the same pot hole I had previously.  The six eyed THING snarled but I sliced through two of it's legs and it collapsed at my feet.  Again on the return motion I swiped the tree trunk with the 2nd lumberjack angled cut and the tree crashed downwards.  The knight screamed but I wasn't done yet.  Rather than returning the stroke towards the two I let the arch carry it over my head, brought it down in classic fencing style and jabbed through the two middle eyes of the messenger beast, impaling what I assumed was it's brain. 

As the tree fell down on the knight, I used my other hand, avoiding the lightsaber and snagged up the beast.  It was heavy and not moving, thank goodness.  I could have killed the knight, but whatever had sent one knight might send 10 the next time around.  I waited only a few seconds to make sure the knight was down for the count for a least several minutes and then turned, beast in hand, and ran through the rain, splashing through the rain puddles and patches of street lights on the sidewalk, and turned sharply into the Red Line stop and bounded up the stairs to the train platform above.  I managed to catch the train as the doors were closing and it headed south. 

The locals in the car took one look at the flaming lightsaber and the dead beastie, that thankfully wasn't bleeding, I must have cauterized the veins as I had impaled it, and they shifted to another car.  I was too keyed up to sit down and I watched the buildings flash by.   If I wanted out of this I needed to find Debbie and to find her I needed a certain item I'd deposited at the magic pawn shop, near the university.  I needit to get rent money.  I rechecked the beast to make sure it was still dead, I'd stab it again if it even twitched.  Hopefully, the pawn shop owner would let me trade one worn messenger beast that could rejuvenate body parts for the device I'd hawked (help spelling?). 

With the few minutes left before the train reached the station I needed, I wondered if I'd remembered to set the Tivo to record House.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 27, 2008, 02:54:32 AM
With the few minutes left before the train reached the station I needed, I wondered if I'd remembered to set the Tivo to record House.

Slimy Paul’s sits on Market and 8th streets. It’s not really called Slimy Paul’s; the name is, creatively, Pawn World. Those of us in the know call it Slimy Paul’s in dubious honor of the current proprietor, Paul Watanabe. We call Paul Slimy in dubious honor of the fact that, should you be unfortunate enough to catch sight of him un-Doubled, you’d see that he was…….well, rather slimy. And kinda smelly. None of which really mattered right now, ‘cause I needed to see him, regardless of form, pretty badly.
   I’d managed to turn off the lightsaber and stuff it into my belt without pruning anything off accidentally. The rest of my impromptu train ride was fairly uneventful, and I made it to the Market Street station without anything attacking me. I was wondering how I was gonna pull off dragging the carcass of the messenger beast without attracting the attention of the party going public that inhabited downtown on a Friday night. I was just getting ready to fake a foo-doggish stole when the lights in my lonely car went dim, then out completely.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 27, 2008, 04:31:23 AM
I was wondering how I was gonna pull off dragging the carcass of the messenger beast without attracting the attention of the party going public that inhabited downtown on a Friday night. I was just getting ready to fake a foo-doggish stole when the lights in my lonely car went dim, then out completely.


"Crap."  That was an understatment...
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 27, 2008, 05:11:37 AM
Quote
"Crap."  That was an understatment...

I didn't have time to gather enough wits about me before a low growl rumbled in the creature I carried. I felt it more than heard it, which was impressive considering the size. Dull shock shot through me as I glanced down at the creature. Slowly, but all too quickly the six eyes opened to wolf-like golden eyes. Myself and the messenger beast stared at each other for a moment. Knowing that if I moved it would kill me. More importantly, it knew that if I moved it would kill me.

Could I pull the Light Sabre from my jeans before it could latch onto my throat? Or would it just be best to stand there, keeping it in a staring contest until its master came to claim his pet and prize? What to do, oh what to do.

It made the first move, its legs stiffened and it launched its massive jaws at my throat from point blank range. I couldn't have grasped the Light Sabre even if I'd had time to consider the option. Long, sharp fangs slipped through my skin and muscles, severing tendons and vessels. Through the searing pain in my neck and head I tried to reach for the weapon in my pants, or at very least tried to kick and wretch myself free of the hound. My efforts were abruptly halted with a sharp twist of jaws that ended in all feeling disapearing from my body, and my neck at a wrong angle. The thought crossed my mind that I had to be dead, otherwise it would be hurting, right? The other thought that crossed my mind was Debbie. We were friends, why would she possibly want this for me? What alternitives could she have had? Were we ever friends? In those moments I lost all desire for retribution, all that remained was the question of why.

And the beast swallowed me, body and soul. With as great an ease as it had swallowed the hand...
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 27, 2008, 07:50:55 AM
And the beast swallowed me, body and soul. With as great an ease as it had swallowed the hand...

     I woke up. I wasn’t dead. Or, if I was dead, I certainly didn’t expect it to be like this. The first thing I noticed was the cold floor. Stone. Cold. Amplified by my nudity. HEY! Who the hell stole my clothes? I’m not normally described as modest, but I'm not exactly an exhibitionist, either. I sat up, which did lots of unpleasant things to my balance. Eventually, I felt like I might be able to check out the rest of the room without emptying my stomach. Small, maybe ten feet to a side. Two bodies chained to the wall. Dead bodies. One fresh, one not so fresh. Was I worried? Did I panic? Hell no, the mummy to my right had clothes which I was determined to liberate.
   Since my cell mates were hung from the wrists, it was easy to strip the pants off my deceased benefactor (I eschewed his undies, though) but the shirt was a different matter. I ended up ripping a hunk of material away from my desiccated friend and wrapping it around my chest. I now looked like a hooker from a South Beach graveyard, but hey, as least I was covered. My continued exploration of my new digs, and any further ponderings as to how I got here, were interrupted by heavy, clanging steps swiftly approaching. In the dim torchlight (torchlight? Who uses torches anymore….) I could just make out the heavy ironbound door behind me. Keys rattled in the lock and the door swung inward with a groaning sigh.
   “Wow. Great ensemble,” she said. “Nuevo Decomposed?”
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 27, 2008, 07:32:25 PM
"Debbie?"   :D
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 27, 2008, 09:32:40 PM
"Debbie?"   :D

"Wrong, sweetie. But she's on the list too."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 27, 2008, 11:00:30 PM
"Wrong, sweetie. But she's on the list too."
   "What list?" I said bluntly.
   She smiled as if I had said something funny.
   I pointed at the floor I had just occupied, "Listen lady, I was just eaten by a big dog with six eyes, I was put in a cell with two dead..." I tried to identify the gender of my cell mates and failed, "...people, and worst of all, I was attacked by a medeavil knight spouting off about the Sunflower... "
     "Wildflower." she corrected archly
     "Wildflower, wildfire, wilderbeast...whatever he was, he was PISSED OFF at me for no good reason!"  I took a breath as I knew this special brand of supernatural weirdness did not take kindly to the normals like me getting uppity.  "I'm supposed to get a phone call." I finished lamely.
     She raised one of the segmented shapeshifter eyebrows that looked so much like Debbie's, "We don't have a...phone..." she seemed amused and I resisted telling her she looked a lot like my half breed friend, just to see her come unglued.
     "Look,  I've always said I'd prefer to stay out of sight of the supernatural big boys, Why, for the love of all that is wholesome would I have a working light saber at my house other than it was left their by someone else?"
    She cocked her head quizicly at me, "Is that what you saw it as?" she was suppressing a grin and I wanted to strangle her.
    "Yes, that's what it was" I said patienty as if I was talking to a child, then it dawned on me what she had just implied, "What was it really?"
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 27, 2008, 11:49:47 PM
Quote
"Yes, that's what it was" I said patienty as if I was talking to a child, then it dawned on me what she had just implied, "What was it really?"

She was gorgeous, smooth black hair and dark chocolate skin. Her tight, leather outfit made dark of her skin stand out. If it wasn't for the fact that my situation was clearly one of intense physical endangerment I might have been very attracted...which I wasn't. Not in the least. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, coming up with an alternative course of action. As if it would be more ammusing to leave me in the dark. "Oh...It doesn't matter much at this point. Your trial's scheduled for tommorow. And your execution is sheduled for the day after." Good god, at least innocent until proven guilty was an interdimensional constant. Like rats or flesh eating bacteria.

"As a matter of fact," She continued, "you'll be going at the same time as this poor bastard." She motioned to the cell across the hall from mine.

A man lay against the wall, either sleeping, dying or both, hard to tell due to his face being obstructed by a hat pulled down around his eyes. He was probably a little bit older than me with feathery blond hair that severely needed a combing. Almost like my own hair with the exception of color. He also needed a shave. It was one of those situations where he hadn't gone long enough for it to look good.

I blinked up at her, more people than just Debbie? I wondered if he was as innocent as I was. She hadn't acted alone, "How many?"

She sighed tiredly and shrugged, "Enough so that the blocks are busy."

"Yeah, and who are you? The secretary?" I was feeling beligerant.

She gave another, sweet smile, "No, I'm your Guardian..." And my questioning glance she continued, "I believe you would refer to me as a lawyer."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 28, 2008, 01:15:42 AM
My head hurt.  I guess being eaten body and soul followed, followed by what?  Regurgitation?  I was glad I'd been out at the time.  Now this gorgeous piece of ass in leather was going to be my "guardian" or "lawyer" or whatever?  I started to ask her what the heck was going on because I was seriously lost sticking the events into any logical order, when the huge double, gothic arched door at the end of the alleyway between the cell rows perched atop a short series of steps blasted open.

Two giant grizzly bear minions, blood stained teeth barred drug something, correction someone through the doors.  The body bounced off the stairs as they pulled it along and she was swearing up a blue streak with a voice I recognized. 

I pushed my "lawyer" aside and grabbed the iron bars of my cell swearing, “You bitch.  You rotten damned bitch."  I shook the bars and growled out my anger and my frustration, kicking at them for keeping me from tearing apart my recent friend.  "What the hell did you have to drag me into whatever you've been doing?  Debbie, I'm going to pull you apart." 

At my voice, Debbie's swearing stopped abruptly and her black cropped hair framed a lighter toned face than my lawyer with brilliant green eyes.  Her mouth was large and cracked open into a huge smile, despite being held upside down by the grizzlies.  "JOEY!  Hey good to see you."

"Good to see me, my ass!"  I followed her as the grizzlies carried her down the cell row.  One grabbed her and tossed her over its shoulder as the other opened the cell across the way with the man in the hat.  Even as mad as I was at her, I had to admit that her ass looked pretty good.  She was still upside down, looking back at me.  Geez, back to reality--Joey...  "You set me up, you bitch!  I've been eaten by something called a Message Hound and vomited back to life, I'm on trial, and I refuse to be hung without at least knowing what it's all about." 

"Poor Joey.  Can't figure anything out huh?  Hey, what happened to your clothes?"  The jeans had more or less disintegrated when I attacked the cell wall, splitting and falling off.  She giggled and I hit one of the bars so hard my fist crunched.  Sort of tough to look angry when you're naked and nursing your aching hand.   It didn't help that the man in the hat started laughing at me as well.   

The grizzlies dumped her in the cell, more or less on her head, but Debbie bounces.  Yep bounces back from injuries fast, bounces back from failed love fast, bounces back when you sock her.  She was a fracking bouncing beach ball.  I used to love that about her. The grizzlies locked her in and disappeared back up the steps and out the door, slamming it shut behind them.

My "lawyer" smiled, "Well isn't this a happy family now?"


 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 28, 2008, 05:19:32 AM
Quote
My "lawyer" smiled, "Well isn't this a happy family now?"

I disregarded her and turned to Debbie. In all truth I was torn. A part of me wanted to hit her. To grab her, shake her shoulders and scream at her for getting me into this mess. I didn't want to die, you see. And I'm not one of those heroes that is used to people trying to kill him, so I was under a great deal of stress. But I didn't. I didn't because that wouldn't accomplish anything, and I knew that if we were getting out of this situation she was the one who was going to have to do it. Either her or the guy in the hat. I figured antagonizing them was far from my best interests.

That and...I didn't want to hit her. Even though she'd dragged me into this, I didn't want to cause her any pain. Dare I say, I still cared about her. And you don't hurt people you care about, especially if you don't know why they threw you to the wolves.

The man in the hat spoke up while we stood there in shock, apparently my previous guess of him being asleep or dying were both wrong. He practically sprung to his feet and waved cheerily over at us. "Hey! Debyone!" Debbie, I assumed, "How're you doing?"

She shrugged, "So-so. Business is slow."

He laughed again, "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd steal the Wildflower. Hell! I wanna know how you pulled it off!"

Debbie smiled back. "Oh Andre, you know me, I may be skilled, but I'm not stupid. I would never steal it from the Imperial Palace."

I disregarded Andre in the severly out-dated hat and asked the question that had been bugging me, "So you didn't take it?"

"Oh, I took it all right," She grinned defiantly at my court appointed attourney, "Just not from the Imperial Palace. It kind of...fell in my lap afterwards." She turned to me, no longer mocking, but sorrowful, "Joey. I'm terribly sorry you were pulled into this. I needed a safe place to hide it, and I didn't think they would look for it on Earth."

"Oh, dear Debyone. How naiive you are." Andre said, "The Wildflower is our life source. The search has become far and wide. The King is doing whatever he can to get it back," he ran his thumb over his throat in a menacing way, "You know, lest the Emperor exact in interest what was taken." He gave a wild, ammused chuckle, and I wondered how long he'd been in these dungeons, "As a matter of fact...out of all the people who have had their heads lopped off these last couple days, we're probably the only ones who have actually come into contact with the device in question."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 28, 2008, 05:58:58 PM

"Oh, dear Debyone. How naiive you are." Andre said, "The Wildflower is our life source. The search has become far and wide. The King is doing whatever he can to get it back," he ran his thumb over his throat in a menacing way, "You know, lest the Emperor exact in interest what was taken." He gave a wild, ammused chuckle, and I wondered how long he'd been in these dungeons, "As a matter of fact...out of all the people who have had their heads lopped off these last couple days, we're probably the only ones who have actually come into contact with the device in question."

I <Joey> opened my mouth to ask a question, all I seem to do this time around, but Andre, dipped his head at my lawyer,  "It-say on the alk-tsay in front of the yer-lawsay."  I clammed up.  My Guardian frowned at me, shot murderous looks towards Debbie and Andre in the other cell and called up the grizzlies to let her out. She exited with them out the gothic doors. 

"You had it, you touched it.  The Wildflower I mean." I was looking at Andre. 

"For a moment in time, yes."

"So you're the one that took it out of the Imperial Palace--not Debbie, thus creating the ‘Off with their Heads’ King?  What'd ya do, get caught with the goods before the great escape?  Did you toss it out a window to Debbie, who,"  I shifted my angry gaze to Debbie again, "just happened to be walking by?"

He signed and shifted his legs to get more comfortable on the stone cold floor, readjusted his hat and closed his eyes.  I'm not sure--but I think the guy actually fell asleep.  Debbie was looking at me like she'd never seen me before.  Geez, what had I been a quick lay?  Then again thinking about it, when you live my life, that's sort of a complement--especially when Debbie looked like the sexiest thing in at least six parallel worlds.  That's all the worlds I’d ever been in; she was pretty damn blasted hot.

Debbie walked over to the cell bars and peered through them at me, "Not bad, Joey.  A little bit off, but not by much.  There was someone else on the inside too and enough said about that for now.  Hey, I missed you."

"Yeah, I bet you did," but my heart did a fast two step.

The gothic doors blasted open again.  Didn't anyone in this wild kingdom, just open a door quietly?  The guard grizzlies were back.  They were intimidating enough, but something tall, skinny, and cloaked in black smoke floated through the door behind them. A stench followed the black smoke that made my dead cell companions smell like roses.  Joey, you are out of your league here so far you can't see the ceiling or the floor.

The tall, skinny, floating figure had a gravelly sing-sing voice that I had trouble understanding at first.  Was it even talking English?  It was agitated, angry, & pretty much didn't look like it planned to wait for the nice trial before loping our heads off.   Debbie backed way back in the corner, out of the light from the lit scones.  Andre's position didn't shift, he appeared to be sleeping but I caught the tell tail tightening of his stomach.  I just stood there like an idiot wondering what else could happen now?  It took a bit of concentration but I finally was able to interpret what the cloaked figure was saying.

"It is not working, one of you have damaged it."  Andre forgot to pretend to sleep and his back straightened up as he sat, leaning against the cell bars. 

Debbie seemed to know what the comment meant.  "You mean someone bonded with it?  It's found its true soul's owner?"  She stared at me in shock and Andre's eyes under his hat opened and shifted to watch me.

"Yes, an unfortunate event, but not insurmountable.  Whoever of you is now Wildfire Bound, will serve the King.  The other two of you will be executed."

Okay, either option didn’t sound good, especially if the ‘bonded’ person in question had to work with the floating stink bomb…


 

 

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 28, 2008, 08:13:55 PM
Okay, either option didn’t sound good, especially if the ‘bonded’ person in question had to work with the floating stink bomb…

….who turned and guestured vaguely at my cell. The Grizzliess lurched forward and the door popped open. I considered bolting for about a millisecond; the bear brothers looked like they’d run me down before I could get anywhere. Besides, where the hell could I go?
 “Bye, Deb,” I called to her as the Grizzlies grabbed my arms in their jaws. “I’d say I’ll be seein’ ya, but the way things are going, that’s not likely, is it?”
    “I’m really sorry, Joey! I never thought it would come to this!”
   “You never thought, alright. I…”
The bear boys jerked me out of my cell before I could say anything else and drug me down the hallway. I struggled to keep my feet under me as they sped towards the entrance. I felt more than saw the floating goon behind me; of course, if I’d been blind it would have been impossible to miss the stench. The doors banged open and I was blinded by the sunlight. I could hear screaming and yelling, and growling and howling, which did not bode well for Joey-san, I was thinking. With the Grizzlies holding my hands I couldn’t shade my eyes. Then one of them let go and broke into a stumbling run up the stairs. I could see that the stairs I was on now were below ground level; although we were outside, we still had about fifty feet to go before I could see where I was at. I was sqinting up the stairs when Casper the Smelly whatever-he-was went zipping by, trilling a sing-song of twisted syllables. Then something came flying over the edge of the pit our stair was in; actually, several somethings. Big, pale yellow, eight legs, a human-ish torso, and long, green hair was all I had time to see before I was shoved to the ground. A huge, wet splash coated my back and neck. I knew it was blood. I could smell it. I rolled left until I hit the dirt sides of the stairway. I crouched there for a second debating whether to make a run for freedom as the battle raged, or head back to the relative safety and security of prison.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 28, 2008, 10:42:11 PM
A huge, wet splash coated my back and neck. I knew it was blood. I could smell it. I rolled left until I hit the dirt sides of the stairway. I crouched there for a second debating whether to make a run for freedom as the battle raged, or head back to the relative safety and security of prison.

One of my Grizzlie guards was thrashing around, trying to defend itself for the last few seconds of it's life.  It and it's eight legged attacker didn't seem to be paying any attention to me, the captive, even thought I was now covered in blood.  The smelly wraith thing seemed to be screeching in that strange sing song way while floating out over the pit.  It was fairing much better then my hairy captors as it seemed to sling little bits of the darkness it was made of at the big green spider men (and woman - one of them had breasts I noticed) and wherever the etherial dark whisps would hit the aracnid's skin would turn black and putrid.  Usually they screamed and would lash out with one of their blade strapped legs or use their more human arms to throw something that looked like honey but would sizzle like acid where ever it hit.  It was one of those honey balls that slapped the wall not 2 feet from me that made my survival instinct overrule all other observations.
      "The He...." I gasped and took off up the stairs as fast as my two normal legs would carry me.  I had to dodge bits of battle once or twice as one of the spider people's blades came flying from down in the pit, as they fought their way down into the prison.  No one seemed to notice the shaking blood drenched captive from below as I stumbled up to the ground level and scrambled on all fours toward the first shelter I could see.  People of all shapes, planes, and nightmares were moving toward the battle zone arming themselves in various ways.  Wheather it was to help the spiders or Mr Fart-In-The-Wind with an attitude, I didn't know or care.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 28, 2008, 11:59:00 PM
Quote
No one seemed to notice the shaking blood drenched captive from below as I stumbled up to the ground level and scrambled on all fours toward the first shelter I could see.  People of all shapes, planes, and nightmares were moving toward the battle zone arming themselves in various ways. Wheather it was to help the spiders or Mr Fart-In-The-Wind with an attitude, I didn't know or care.

I found my haven in an overturned vegitable wagon. I crawled under it and hoped none of them would notice me. Something resembling a tomato squished underneath my hand. It was odd, it seemed as though crawling under it had forced me into the fetal position...and based off of the quick, ragged breaths, the fear in my chest, and how the sounds of clattering steel and screaming seemed to just be banging around inside my head it didn't seem as though I would be coming out of that shape any time soon. Oh, and my heart was trying to blast it's way out of my rib cage. So now, I was going to be regressing for a while. There was a point I found myself so out of it that when a large arachnid appendage popped a hole through the top of my shelter, barely missing breaking my neck. I didn't scream, only curled deeper into my position.

Then something even more terrible happened. I don't know how long after the battle started, or how long I stayed there before it happened. The sounds of battle halted. Silence. Just silence. And it was so much worse than the chaos. Somehow, I managed to pry my white knuckled grip from my shoulder and rearrange my spine into a flexible state. After a few moments of phyching myself up I jerkily clawed my way through the loose dirt under my hands. A quick glance around told me that Mr. Ring Wraith had lost, apparently that severed arachnid claw had impaled him in it's way through the cart. The invading monsters had made a circle around the prison entrance.  I couldn't see what they were looking at...but I could guess before I was able to see.

Andre and Debbie. Two of the monsters dragged them along by their hair. I don't know how Andre managed it, but the hat remained on his head. Perhaps it was super-glued. I dared to crawl closer, hiding behind some crushed barrels and another dead bear guard. I was close enough so that I could hear Debbie's, "Hey! There is no need to push. I'm coming!"

A man-spider came out of the circle to meet them, "Andre Ursula...you have taken something from the Emperor. He does not have patience for petty thieves."

"Yeah, well, I can't be that petty of a thief. I did manage to break into the Imperial Palace and steal it right out from under his pointed, arrogant nose." The man was smiling, he had to be mad.

The lead spider didn't do or say anything. There was a jerk of his head. Two more arachnids brought out blocks of wood, placing it before the theives. Those same two started wiping the blood from their large battle axes. The head honcho gave the command, in classic emotionless villain tones, "You have been charged with thievery of the Wildflower. Do you have last words, so that the emporor may spare your immortal souls?"

"The emperor isn't a god," Debbie snarled defiantly. She was ignored.

Andre answered the leader, "Mmm...nah. I'd do it again and that bastard knows it."

The spider, I kid you not, sighed, "So be it." And as he raised his hand my heart lept to my throat.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on February 29, 2008, 04:03:21 AM
"The spider, I kid you not, sighed, "So be it." And as he raised his hand my heart lept to my throat."  Why can't I remember to post the last line.... 

I closed my eyes.  I always do in the gross parts of movies and I honestly didn't want to see a real beheading.  Debbie was screaming though.... that got to me.  Not sure what I could do, I pleaded with whatever god might be listening and stood up.  It would have been nice if I'd found some decent clothes though.  I would like to think that I planned it, I hadn't.  As I stood up I brushed against the pile of crushed barrels and they fell in a thundering crash, leaving me naked and exposed.  The spider people all turned, including the grim reapers ready to slice and dice Andre.  The head honcho was wearing a heavy gold necklace around its neck and a ruby the size of my fist on one of his giant fingers. The sun glinted off of it, but he didn't drop his hand as he looked for the cause of the commotion.  Fart-In-the-Wind was gone, which was fine with me.

The assembled spidy people, Debbie, and Andre all stared up at me and I sent up another prayer.  A huge roar sounded overhead and three military blackhawk helicopters came over the largest building with weapons blasting.  Spidy bits were blown everywhere.  Whirling sand was stinging my bare ass.  I really needed a pair of pants. 

I squinted my eyes against the swirling sand and could make out an open door of the middle helicopter.  My Guardian, with my lightsabre in her hands, leaned precariously out of it.  She shouted something I couldn't hear and then tossed it towards me.  I swear you not, that darn thing flew straight into my right hand by its own volition.  Some instinct told me to swing it overhead.  Instantly the weapons fire ceased and those spider people, including the ruby ringed head honcho, that hadn't been creamed in the weapon onslaught, froze and then, honest to god, bowed down facing me.  I was NOT sticking around to figure that one out.

Ropes snaked out of the helicopter from both sides and Debbie, Andre, & I grabbed one each and hung on as the helicopters soared upwards, lifting us up and out of the battle zone.  Having no where to tuck my lightsabre, it was not an easy climb to get into the helicopter.  As my Guardian reached out to pull me to safety, I saw the spidy people below still staring up at me like I was the risen Christ or something. 

I didn't let go of my Guardian for quite awhile and her arms rhythmically stroked my back in sympathy as I shook in reaction to almost dying again.  When I finally pulled back, because I noticed that Debbie was eying me in anger--wait, could that be jealousy?  Andre was apparently feeling his age because he was rolled over on the floor trying to catch his breath.

I looked at my Guardian and couldn't imagine a prettier welcome committee.  "You didn't by any chance pick me up some pants did you?"

She laughed and crossed to a leather pouch, pulling out pants from out of Nights of Arabia, billowy and thin.  I didn't care; I put them on and fastened them with a wide leather belt with a lion shaped belt buckle.  There was even a shoulder scabbard for my lightsabre.  Things were looking up for the first time in a long while. 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 29, 2008, 05:08:38 AM
Quote
Things were looking up for the first time in a long while.

"So," I said to my Guardian, "You don't have phones but you have blackhawk freakin' helicopters."

"Oh, I was just screwing with you," She said with that same wolfish smile, "Our world is the closest to your earth. Things like this can exist here where they cannot in the Inner Kingdoms." She prattled on as if I knew what she was talking about.

Debbie sighed in frustration, "Look. The kingdom of Wildfire, where we are, is under the rule of the Empire. Wildfire is a...frontier if you will. It's on the outskirts of the Empire, and the world right next to Earth. The farther you go to the center of the Empire the more effected by magic they are, the farther technologically set back they are due to the overpowering presence of magic. The Imperial Palace is stuck back in...Andre, where would you place them in human history?"

Andre looked up from his hat, the man liked to keep to himself, "Picture China in the middle ages full of immortal wizards."

Debbie nodded, "Oh, right. About like that. And the Wildflower is a great treasure of the emperor. The King was desperate to get it back because he knew it would be his head if one of his people took it and he did nothing to get it back. But then you bonded with it. By the-"

My Guardian cut her off, I wondered if it was just a play to irritate Debbie, "By the King of Wildfire enlisting your services he has something to hold over the Empire's head and keep them from taking away our self-rule." She turned another one of those million-dollar smiles at Debbie and Andre, "Unfortunately it means he needs to make a showing of your friends here."

"Ohhh man! Hey, Debyone, the way she talks you'd think we were screwed or something!" Andre blurted, earning several nasty looks from the other human(oid?) guards in the chopper.

A small smile quirked at my lips, the guy had balls. That was for sure. I mean, he had to, why else would he mock giant spiders sent to kill him or steal something from the Empire to begin with. Either that or my initial assumption of his being totally off his rocker was correct. I caught a glance at Debbie. She was leaning on the floor, staring out at the odd world zipping by below us with the most gentle look on her face. The gravity of the situation hit me. They would die. All because of some stupid political powerplays. I didn't know why they took the Wildflower...and right then it didn't matter.

I couldn't let that happen.

"Hey," I grabbed the attention of my Guardian. I went for power and commanding presence, this was exceptionally hard to pull off since I was still buzzing on adrenaline, it was worth a shot. "So. Here's the scoop sweetheart," I pointed to Andre and Debbie, "I don't to jack for you or your king until you promise a pardon for them."

There was a moment where I could have sworn she was overpowered by the sense of masculenity and heroisim that I attempted to portray.

Then she laughed. "No," She squeezed out between uncontrollable chuckles.

"No?" I asked, shocked, "What do you mean no?"

It took a couple of moments, but she pulled herself back together, "I mean, you don't have a choice and you don't have the power. More lives are at risk than those of two petty thieves. Think about it." She held up different fingers as she finished sentences, "Our world is the next dimensional stop on the way to Earth. We are on the outskirts of the Empire. If we retain power that will keep the Empire from gaining a military foothold here. And I'd bet you can guess what happens if that unfortunate circomstance falls into place." She paused for effect.

"Earth will fall to the Empire."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 29, 2008, 05:58:42 AM
And I'd bet you can guess what happens if that unfortunate circumstance falls into place." She paused for effect.

"Earth will fall to the Empire."

I imagined some of the green spider people riding the metro or Mr Smokey-Bad-Smell waiting in line at a 7-11 for an instant before logic told me there would be mass panic on a global scale  - compared to fighting about who was right about God or what sexual positions were obscene and what color of people should be in power - people who were clearly NOT human would present such a huge paradigm shift in every-day reality that it would fracture the human psyche.  Your average Joe Public couldn't handle the idea of ghosts or aliens much less parallel dimensions and magical political take overs. 

This stopped me in my tracks and for an instant I forgot that my rescuer was pretty or that she had just probably saved my life.  For that moment I saw her as only an agent of a hostile government who would mete out an undeserved punishment and kill 2 people to make a political showing.  It seemed so wrong but I didn't see a way around it either. 

"my cooperation should be good for something..." I muttered darkly, then turned to Andre.  The man looked mildly shocked, like he had been enjoying dozing by candle light and someone turned on a bright light. I was hoping his candor wouldn't quit on me now.  "So what does being wildfire bound do?" I asked.

He shrugged, "It means this plane has connected with you.  circumstances will go your way, things that are unlikely, and a few that seem impossible" he looked meaningfully at the light saber, "might happen if you need them to bad enough."

"what do you mean, bad enough?" I sounded creeped-out even to my own ears.

He smiled crookedly as my guardian jumped in, "He means you can't wish for something, you have to actually need something for it to happen."  She smiled again, "so if you are protected, reasonably cared for, and mostly safe, the connection you have will not be forced to take a hand in things.  You do not have power whenever you want it."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 29, 2008, 07:00:55 AM
He smiled crookedly as my guardian jumped in, "He means you can't wish for something, you have to actually need something for it to happen."  She smiled again, "so if you are protected, reasonably cared for, and mostly safe, the connection you have will not be forced to take a hand in things.  You do not have power whenever you want it."

     “Only when I need it, eh?”  Both Andre and the lawyer nodded at my query. I stared hard at the two of them for a moment, then looked to Debbie. She was looking out the window, not paying attention to what was going on around her. She was still as beautiful as ever, and apparently still a sneaky and conniving wench. Why the hell she’d dropped this into my lap was something I intended to find out.
   I grabbed her chin and bored into those baby blues. “Why me? Why drop this crap in my lap?”
   She shuddered a little, hands closing on mine and ripping them away. She refused to look at me when she spoke. “Because it won’t bond to just anyone; A, you have to be human. All the way human. B,” and then she did look at me, and it wasn’t very nice, either. “You have to be male.”
   “Gee, all the way male?” I guess human and male were in short supply in Wildfire. I said as much.
   “There’s a third requirement. You must be a virgin to bond.” This came from the lawyer. I gave her my best withering stare, which she countered with what I assume was her best amused snicker. Well. I was starting to think I really needed a drink.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on February 29, 2008, 09:39:14 PM
   “There’s a third requirement. You must be a virgin to bond.” This came from the lawyer. I gave her my best withering stare, which she countered with what I assume was her best amused snicker. Well. I was starting to think I really needed a drink.

Andre pulled his hat down over his face and settled back against his seat with carefully neutral movements, "That's why they call it the Wild FLOWER." he stated matter of factly.
      I felt a sudden need to be invisible but the world magic I had been imbued with, didn't seem to agree and I stayed visable.  I closed my eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening , "How many people know about that...requirement...of the magic?"
     My guardian controlled her chuckling and answered sweetly, "pretty much everyone..." she continued quickly when I turned pale and looked like I wanted to die, "You have to understand this is a legendary power.  Many men who try to take it - it wont have, and the ones who might be...available don't conform to that requirement for long."  She barely stifled a smirk and looked away.
    I looked over at Debbie, "And what if I were to ...no longer meet that requirement?"
    My Lawyer snorted, "Sweetie there aren't too many women out there who want to take on angry magical forces of probability for even the best...." she trailed off to give me an appraising look.
     I gave her another withering glare and considered jumping out of the helicopter.
   
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on February 29, 2008, 11:19:57 PM
     I gave her another withering glare and considered jumping out of the helicopter.
   

    The helicopter flew over rolling forests of green and blue and, I kid you not, Mauve. I hardly registered the landscape as I stared out the side, before a sudden realization hit me.
    "Waitaminute," I blurted out, making both my guardian and Andre Jump in surprise, "if this power gives me what I need when I need it. Why the heck did I have to ask for pants when I was being rescued!?"
    Debbie snorted, I declined to glance at her, though the joke seemed to be well known to all but me, because everyone in the 'copter was smiling. "what?" I asked, fighting in Vain to keep from melting into a shy puddle on the floor.
    "S... hehe... s.sorry Joey. It's just, you're in Wildflower now. We don't live with such... rigid rules of decency as Earth has." Debbie snickered as she looked to me.
    I looked down at the pants I now wore. Up until now the feel of cloth around my waist and down my legs was a comfort I didn't know I missed. But looking down at them, I noticed the Fabric was little more than thin Gauze, I'd be better off naked.
    quickly moving to hide myself more, I scowled at the rising chorus of giggles coming from the three of them. "well, ok..." I winced at how meekly my voice came out. "but if I am bound to wildflower the realm, what does this stupid FX lightsabre have to do with this?" I waved a hand, swiftly of course, past the rather beaten-looking handle poking from behind my back.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on February 29, 2008, 11:26:55 PM
"well, ok..." I winced at how meekly my voice came out. "but if I am bound to wildflower the realm, what does this stupid FX lightsabre have to do with this?" I waved a hand, swiftly of course, past the rather beaten-looking handle poking from behind my back.

   “It’s simply a sword,” said Debbie, but she wouldn’t look at me when she said it. I didn’t buy that for a second, but no one seemed forthcoming with an immediate answer. While I was waiting, a couple of other things went through my mind. One, I guess this made me Virgin King of the Universe. Two, I wouldn’t be producing any heirs to the kingdom anytime soon.
   I turned back to the lawyer, “Okay, we’ll leave the saber out of it, for now. But since I have the power, what is my purpose in life? Andre says Wildflower is the key to existence, but in what way? And what the hell is your name?”
   “Kansuchoshoreza,” she replied with a smile. “ but you can call me Reza. Wildflower is more than just power, Joey. It is knowledge and feeling and life all rolled into one. You don’t wield it; your ‘purpose’, if you wish, is to be wielded by Wildflower.”
   “To be wielded? In what way?”
   “Not in what way, in what form.”
   “Could you please be a little more cryptic, this is all way too straight forward for me.” Again, my withering stare and rapier wit was lost on present company. Well, maybe not the wit part, since they all laughed hysterically.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on February 29, 2008, 11:52:01 PM
Quote
“Could you please be a little more cryptic, this is all way too straight forward for me.” Again, my withering stare and rapier wit was lost on present company. Well, maybe not the wit part, since they all laughed hysterically

While their laughter at my perfectly reasonable question died down I was busy pondering the insane series of occurances that led to this. I was trying to consider whether I was incredibly unlucky or incredibly lucky, or some odd combination of the both. It had afterall seemed a completely random occurance that first brought me to Debbie. And I was assuming it was a similar random occurance that had caused her to stand me up, thereby maintaining my flower-ness. So had that all just been incredibly unlucky? Then again...I was alive so far. There had to be some element of good luck too.

On the other hand, if Debbie hadn't stood me up, she wouldn't have come to me to hide the Wildflower. But in a moment a thought came to me. Debbie had moved from her position, and she was leaning against Andre with her eyes closed. I felt a tug of jealousy, but it was quickly thrust aside in favor of my need to know, "Hey. If only a virgin can use it then why did you take it?"

Debbie snapped awake at the question, but didn't answer. Andre remained quiet before using his index finger to tap up the brim of his hat and look at me with evergreen eyes, "While I'll admit the knowledge of the Wildflower is important to your current situation, I fail to see how my personal motives are relevant."

I was annoyed. He knew damn well how his personal motives were relevant, "If you want me to help you then you're going to have to tell me why you dragged me and Debbie-"

"He didn't drag me into this," She said defensively.

"-Okay. Just me. Tell me why you stole it and put my life and the lives of a lot of different people in danger."

"If that's the case then it's only nessessary for my survival, not yours, and according to the lady here," he motioned to Reza, "I'm worm food anyway. So I'm keeping my secrets with me all the way up those damn gallows step-"

Debbie sighed in frustration. I knew that sigh. It usually meant she was fed up with stubborness of the male variety, "His wife is a concubine of the emperor. He could never buy her back so he desided to steal the Wildflower for blackmail."

Andre bristled, and showed the first real signs of anger. He didn't do anything. Didn't yell, didn't scream, didn't make any violent movments, didn't even push her away from him. He just sat there with a scowl crossing his face, and the muscles all over his body tensed. But it was gone in moments, he just flicked the had back down over his eyes and leaned against Debbie. It was a toss up whether it was to annoy me or because she provided a nice pillow.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 01, 2008, 03:21:18 AM
But it was gone in moments, he just flicked the had back down over his eyes and leaned against Debbie. It was a toss up whether it was to annoy me or because she provided a nice pillow.

   You know, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of fights that I’ve started. Not that I haven’t been in a lot of them, just that fighting hurts, and because I’m not really very good at it, fighting usually hurts ME. However, I was getting pretty sick of this run-around bullshit. Plus, I was tired of being the only one NOT in the loop. PLUS, I was pretty sure that Andre was goading me by using Debbie for a head rest.
Debbie I liked. Reza could still be useful, information-wise. But he of the perpetually annoying fedora? Didn’t know him, and I wasn’t in the mood to get cozy.
   “Andre,” I said, pulling the lightsaber out and lighting it off. “Say goodbye to yer hat rack, mister, ‘cause I’m save the hangman some work!”
        As I drew back to strike, several things happened at once. Debbie screamed “NOOOO!” and lunged for my legs. Reza also screamed “NOOOO!” and lunged her lovely chocolate body in between Andre and my blade, and Andre screamed “NOOOO!” (with a satisfying look of terror on his face, I might add) and cringed as far back into the corner of the chopper as he could.  Of course, all this action had some unintended consequences. Debbie succeeded in tackling me, and as I fell backwards, the lightsaber blade arced into the ceiling and generally made mechanical spaghetti of some Very Important Flight Controls. Of course, I smacked my head on the door behind me, which gained some ventilation, courtesy of the lightsaber. Debbie’s momentum carried her into the same door, which she bounced from and into the cockpit, creating somewhat of a critical control issue with the pilot, who was just coming to grips with a wounded aircraft.
Andre, in his haste to place distance between us, succeeded in popping the door on his side of the aircraft open, which created somewhat of a draft, and Reza? Out the door she went.
   I sat up, looked around, and turned off the lightsaber. So much for the way of the Jedi.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on March 01, 2008, 07:22:12 AM
   I sat up, looked around, and turned off the lightsaber. So much for the way of the Jedi.


    Andre managed to tug his side door shut, looking at me like one would look at a crazy man (which, given the consequences, might be appropriate). "what in the high courtiers name do you think you're doing!?" he screamed over the roar of wind. surprisingly, even in the maelstrom of the broken blades and speeding wind, his hat stayed perfectly on his head. "I may be dead already, but not by some scrawny earth boy!"
    Debbie stumbled from the cockpit, rubbing her head and looking around "where's Reza?" she asked in a slightly dazed voice. I could only gape. I mean, how does a guy tell his ex-girlfriend that his lawyer-guardian-guide-type-person had fallen out of the halicopter due to one brash move. Several small croaks left my throat as I attempted such a feat.
    Luckily, I didn't have to say anything, because the next thing we new the pilot pushed his way past Debbie and turned to look at us all. "She's left the 'copter, and if you want to live, I suggest the same." he said, clinging to the open doors edge with two arms as a third buckled a parachute on. Before any of us could say anything he was gone, already a speck against the rapidly approaching trees. Further below, I could see a smaller point, Reza, falling fast.
    I had no clue what I was thinking (which seems to be a common theme with me). BUt I found myself Grabbing Debbie by her wrist and Andre by his hat. "c'mon" I said, voice cracking ha;fway through the manly growl.
    And I did the obvious next dumb thing... I jumped.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 01, 2008, 08:02:31 AM
Quote
And I did the obvious next dumb thing... I jumped.

What was I thinking? Right about then I didn't know. Perhaps it was as if some external force was controlling my actions. More likely it was because Andre's semi-insanity had worn off on me. The first step off the aircraft brought with it the thought that I may very well have lost my marbles. Too many birds had landed on my antenna. My Happy Meal was short of fries.

Whatever illusions I might have had of being able to hold on to Debbie or Andre disapeared quickly. I lost control over my body as I spiraled to the multi-colored oblivion beneath me. I don't know what it was, but the wind ripped them from my hands, my white knuckled grip suddenly found nothing to hold on to. Around and around I spun as I seemed to constantly leave behind my internal organs. My brain was being smushed against the back of my skull by cyntrifical force.

I really needed a parachute right then.

My progress was suddenly halted by a harsh harness that seemed to have wrapped iteself around my torso (and a particularly painful wraparound in my groin area, brought to my attention by the sudden harsh stop. I don't know what happened after that, my mind and eyes went dark.

I dreampt about a playground. From way back when I was a little kid. When all I was concerned about was getting that girl with the pretty ponytail to notice me by jumping off the swing when it was at its highest point. So I swung on the swing, back and forth, back and forth. Trying to get to that point by pumping my legs and pushing with the two downward forces in order to survive the upward climb. Above me the swing chains squeaked against the swingset.

These thoughts eased the transition to my very pain filled waking life. Only I wasn't in a playground. The girl I was trying to impress was nowhere in sight. And I was not on the swingset. I was dangling from parachute cords that had gotten tangled up in the branches above me. There was creaking, only it wasn't the squeak of metal on metal. More like the strain of cords or branches that were threatening to break and drop me the rest of the 15 or 20 feet between me and solid ground.

"You're one stupid son of a bitch aren't you?" The mocking tone came from the branches above me. Andre. How had he survived?

My heart lurched. Had Debbie survived? "Where's Debbie?" I slurred up at him.

He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. But she's probably around. We have serious skills instead of just luck."

I blinked up at him, only one eye responded, the other was so swollen that it wouldn't move, "How the heck did your hat manage to stay on through all of that?" I figured my observational skills were rather good considering what I'd just been through.

"Enchantment," He replied, "I have half a mind to leave you there."

"Then why don't you?" I let my head loll back downward, tired of craning my neck to look up at him.

"Mostly because I'm unarmed, and this forest really isn't that friendly. Unless you consider a close quarters night was a giant vampiric leech friendly."

"Hell," I said back, "Maybe that would take care of the stupid virgin requirement. Cummon, man. Help me out."

He grinned a crocodelian smile, "Fine, oh ye of little thought." He pulled out a small knife, and within moments sliced the ropes that held me up."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 01, 2008, 11:00:56 AM
He grinned a crocodelian smile, "Fine, oh ye of little thought." He pulled out a small knife, and within moments sliced the ropes that held me up."

   I started to mention something about the drop, but the malicious grin on Andre’s face stopped me. I suppose that since I did try to kill him, he was probably exacting a little revenge, and probably less than what I deserve. Which did not lessen the severity with which I cussed him out when the glutes hit the mud. It hurt like hell. I was furiously rubbing the sting out of my behind when Andre glided down from his perch and made a perfect landing next to me.
   “Thanks,” I said.
   “It was the least I could do after you destroyed our transportation, lost our companions, and lost the damn Key!”
   “The Key? What key? I don’t know jack about a key?” Once again, Andre had displayed a real talent for pissing me off.
   Right then, I felt tremendous pressure on my shoulders. I was spun around and Andre was suddenly in my face, so close that I was under the brim of his hat. His green eyes were suddenly glowing with an eerie orange light. In a very quiet, very scary voice he said, “The lightsaber IS THE KEY, you dolt!”
   I squirmed against his grip, until I realized that he wasn’t touching me. At all. “Oooookay. Sorry. Nobody told me! I’m a little out of my league here and no…”
   “A little out of your league,” he sneered. “A little….boy, you have NO idea how out of your league you truly are.” The unseen force gripping me by the shoulders forced me away from Andre, and deposited me once again ass first in the mud. Crap, I thought, I’m ruining the tissue passing for my pants. I stood up and made a futile attempt to brush myself off as Andre pulled his hat down over his now normal eyes again and crossed his arms over his chest; I was sure he was glaring at me with contempt. So without a word, I turned and marched into the forest, looking for signs of the broken chopper, Debbie, Reza, or the lightsaber, and not necessarily in that order. All the while I was wondering: If Andre could manipulate me physically, levitate, and do some generally cool magic stuff, why the hell was he so scared when I was gonna chop his head off? The lightsaber was indeed a formidable weapon, but I’m not exactly Luke Freakin’ Skywalker with the damn thing, and unless Andre’s instincts for self-preservation were astronomically slow, and I didn’t think they were, he should have been able to put up SOME sort of defense, shouldn’t he? Then again, maybe not.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 01, 2008, 06:33:23 PM
"I’m not exactly Luke Freakin’ Skywalker with the damn thing, and unless Andre’s instincts for self-preservation were astronomically slow, and I didn’t think they were, he should have been able to put up SOME sort of defense, shouldn’t he? Then again, maybe not."   Again I forget to post the last line.   BTW--do we have a title  Virgin King of the Universe?   ;D


I heard Andre following me in the brush, neither of us was very stealthy but in this jungle that probably wasn't possible.  We hadn't gone far when I felt my heart try to yank itself out of me through my back.  Angry I turned on Andre behind me.

"Stop it!" Now my heart was being yanked out of my chest.  It hurt, a lot.

"Stop what?" Andre replied and actually had the audacity to look innocent.

Another yank and I was pulled past him.  This time it hurt bad enough that I fell to my knees.  Something was dripping from my nose.  I reached up and touched it.  When I pulled it away my hand was covered in blood.  Another yank pulled me a good 20 feet through the underbrush of the jungle. That time I didn't even try to stand up and I collapsed into the ferns at my feet.  My body felt like it was winched in a giant's Indian rope burn and thought my eyes were going to pop out.

I heard was Andre racing through the underbrush to me.  He leaned over me looking concerned.  Something sort of wrapped me up, like I was inside a web cocoon.  The pain abated slightly, my heart was still crushing against my chest.  Andre must have picked me up in his arms because I no longer felt the dirt beneath me.  In fact I didn't hear the underbrush sounds either, even though we were moving fast, almost like flying.  Every so often I would groan and I thought Andre changed direction until my groans indicated the pain was less. 

Then, well frankly, I fainted and the pain did stop.  At least I hoped I fainted, as I slipped into unconsciousness I had the unpleasant thought that maybe I was dying.  'Great' twice in one day.  That's probably a record.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 01, 2008, 08:08:55 PM
Quote
Then, well frankly, I fainted and the pain did stop.  At least I hoped I fainted, as I slipped into unconsciousness I had the unpleasant thought that maybe I was dying.  'Great' twice in one day.  That's probably a record.

I drifted in that haze for a while. When I finally came back to reality everything, and I mean everything hurt. I hurt in places that I didn't even know could hurt. My hurts had hurts. I dragged in a few shaky breaths and tried to open my eyes. This time they both opened. It seemed as though someone had been nice enough to release the pressure in my swollen eye.

A fire was cracking at the air not too far from me. Beyond that Andre was leaning against a large tree trunk. He might have been sleeping, but based off what I'd seen the last 24 hours I doubted he ever slept. "Andre...Hey! Andre." The words came out of my sore throat and brought with them their own discomforts. "Andre?"

"Don't move," He commanded lazily from under his hat. "The poison will spread quicker."

My heart rate quickened, "WHAT!!!"

"You've been poisoned. Don't move.  Is that a hard concept for you to grasp?" He sat up and one of his bones popped. "A Wraith Spider attacked you because you have higher levels of spiritual energy than I do. It poisoned you to break down the bonds between body and soul."

At my questioning look he continued.

"It means 'kill you' in dummy talk. Essencially...only worse then death. The spider eats your soul after the deterioration of your body, so you don't have to worry about the afterlife."

Upon hearing this I forced myself perfectly still, "So what do we do?"

He grabbed a stick and poked the fire. A log fell from the top, sending a flurry of sparks into the dark sky. "We, or more acurately, I have two choices. I could either make the one-day trek to the King's palace," he motioned with his hand, "That way. Which would provide you with immediate healer attention, but not so healthy for me. Or I could make a break for the small town of Marshwood in that direction. It's four days away and by then your brain would be equal to swiss cheese or you'd be dead. Their healer isn't worth much either. But my life would extend beyond the next couple of days."

A classic him or me situation, huh? I had no illusions of surviving on my own in this forest in my current state, and from the way he was talking it seemed it was only going to get worse. I couldn't navigate this place for the life of me. My survival depended almost entirely on him and whether or not he wanted to take the plunge. Literally. "Can't you just drop me off?" I asked, "You have some magic. Can't you just...fly away?"

He pulled back his sleeve. A ruby bracelette glinted in the firelight. "Because of this. Once I get within 30 feet our dear friend Reza or the King's guards it activates and my magic is useless."

So that's why he hadn't lifted a metaphysical finger to stop me when I tried to kill him. So, that wasn't an option for him either. He sat there, on the other side of our make-shift camp and I couldn't tell which direction the gears in that blond head were turning. It seemed as though he was actually considering both options. Why? How could my survival be more beneficial to him than his own survival? Did it have to do with his wife? The Emporor's New Concubine? Then again, who knew except Andre and the hat?
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 01, 2008, 09:12:51 PM
BTW--do we have a title  Virgin King of the Universe?   ;D

Like "Grand Poobah of the Multiverse", "His Imminently Imminent Imminence", and "His Royal High-Handedness", "Virgin King of the Universe" is a title only in Joey's mind..........
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 01, 2008, 11:12:52 PM
How could my survival be more beneficial to him than his own survival? Did it have to do with his wife? The Emporor's New Concubine? Then again, who knew except Andre and the hat?

   “Does it come off?”
Andre did not reply. He was staring off into the distance to the left, as if listening intently. I didn’t turn my head and look; it hurt too much. I asked the question again.
   “What?” he replied as his reverie broke. He scowled down at me like I’d interrupted something important.
   “I said, ‘does it come off’?”
   “Does what come off?”
   “The bracelet, you imbecile! Can you get it off somehow?” I managed to check my rising impatience. So far, rash action and heated words hadn’t really done me much good. See? I was learning.
   “If I could get it off, don’t you think I’d have done so by now?” His head swiveled to the left again. I could see him getting tense as his hands clenched until his fingertips turned white.
   “What is it?” I asked.
   “Quiet, you fool!” he whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Someone’s coming.” He slowly backed up until he was out of my sight. My eyes roamed my immediate surroundings; purple, green, and brown trees and grass, a hodgepodge of color set against what seemed to be a fairly normal sky. I heard something or someone off to the left, but again winced in pain as I tried to turn my head to follow the sound. I gotta say, I was scared; Andre, pain in the patookus he might be, was at least companionship and I wasn’t exactly at my fighting best here. I sat there shivering with fear when the bushes just above my head parted, and Debbie’s smiling face appeared.
   “Well, hello there, handsome! You look a little….” The happy expression on her face faded to one of concern. “What’s happened?”
   “Spider bite.” I replied.
   “That sucks.” She said with a grin. “Lookee what I found.” She was waving my lightsaber over my face.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 02, 2008, 04:18:25 AM
"Great." Even as I uttered the sarcastic words, I felt the warmth of peace and lack of pain settling on my body.  The lightsabre, the key, whatever was making me feel better.  I vowed it would never leave my side again.  i reached out for it and drew it down under the blanket with me as I lay near the fire.  Andre was watching me closely and he must have seen the pain leave my body.  He shook his head back and forth in the negative and threw a stick he had been holding into the fire. 

"Debbie, have you see evidence of Reza?" he asked.

"No father, I have not." 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 02, 2008, 07:45:11 AM
Quote
"No father, I have not."

Okay, I'll admit it, I've choked on a lot of things. Brocholii when I was little, a TV dinner when I was ten, brocholii again when I was fifteen closely followed by roast beef a couple months later (a very bad choking year for me), and on the night I turned 21 I inhaled some vodka which limited my breathing and hurt like Dante's inferno.

I have never, I repeat, never, choked on my own tongue. Hearing Debbie proclaim the obnoxious man in a hat her father made me inhale so fast that the sudden rush of air pulled my tongue along for the ride, effectively blocking my airway. I lay there a little bit and coughed really hard. The harsh movements sent new flows of hurt through me, which quickly vanished under the painkilling spell of the lightsabre. All of this before I very eloquently said, "You're his! So...the concubine in the palace is your mom. But...he's not that much older than me, and I'm thirty and you're thirty...so how?" I blathered on uncontrollably for a few moments.

Debbie sighed, "We're magic touched. Mages. It's what makes us not human enough to wield the Wildflower. And our lifespans and appearence of youth are enhanced according to our power. I'm actually closer to 70. Andre's almost 200."

I noticed that she tended to call him Andre instead of proclaiming him her sperm doner. Why had she bothered to tell me now?

The answer came simply, to prevent a repeat of the incident on the helicopter. Oops.

Andre was looking at her as if annoyed. It was odd. They acted more like partners in crime then father and daughter. Yet again he fiddled with his hat, "The Wildflower has power. It can take his pain away but it won't stop the poison."

Debbie glanced at me, then back at Andre, "So it was a wraith spider?" After Andre nodded she swore something in another language that I was certain one would not utter in a friendly setting. "He needs a healer."

"I know, Debyone. But in case you haven't noticed a stroll into the King's palace will be very, very short. For us. He gets to be the King's little lapdog. We get a vertical drop to the spiritual plain!"

Debbie looked away, then back at me. "Andre, if he dies there will be nothing to stop the Emperor. He's just going to continue to advance, and rape and pillage and control. Did you see those people in prison outpost? What the Imperial Guard did to them? It's going to be like that until someone has the power to stand up to him." She motioned to me, "Unfortunately this weak willed, simple minded, pasty skinned jerk is probably the only one who has the power."

I wasn't even going to reward that with a response...mostly because most of it was true. I had not had a tan in a very long time and I was admittedly weak willed. And based off my actions in the helecopter I was a bit of a jerk. But I was most certainly not simple minded.

Andre leaned against the tree as he contemplated what Debbie had said. "Fine. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to take the simpleton to the King's palace. You're going to flee to Marshwood before we run into Reza again. I have a friend there who can take the shackle off. After that just lay low in some backwater world until the heats off. That way your little hero here survives and there's someone to go on if this all blows up in our faces, think you can handle that?"

He spoke of it so cavalierly. You'd think he was organizing a family camping trip rather than offering up his life. The true weight of what he said showed only in the way Debbie responded to it. Her face twisted into a shape somewhere between sadness, amazement and anguish. They stayed like that, staring at each other for a long time.

"Hey, don't I have a say in this?" I called up.

"No!" They both snapped, breaking their eye contact. When Debbie's face turned to me I saw fresh streaks of wet down to her jawline.

Damnit.

I always hated to see her cry.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 02, 2008, 10:48:33 AM
I always hated to see her cry.

   Being left out of conversations happens to me all the time. Being left out of conversations taking place around me, about me, happens all the time too. But it was getting really old. I’d been forced into a situation that I knew nothing about, didn’t ask for, and was being led blindly through. While Debbie and Daddy dearest held a private conference a little ways off, I started pondering just whose interest I was serving. Could it be that, as had been portrayed so far, the dynamic duo intent on sending me to the King wasn’t necessarily looking out for my best interests? Debbie had been a friend, even a good friend, for only a little while, but as was so obvious now, held back a lot about who and what she was. Maybe they really were criminals, and the only way to save themselves was to somehow use me and the Wildflower to exact some measure of revenge before they met the noose. The only one who’d given me answers was Reza. Not that I had much reason to trust her, either.
   Face it, I told myself, I can only rely on me. I finally made the effort to stand, which was a lot less painful than I thought it would be. I still felt like the Sunday game ball on Monday morning. I glanced at Debbie and Andre, who were watching me intently, as if they expected me to rush them with the lightsaber. Which I briefly thought about, then discarded as a bad idea, in a long line of bad ideas that got me here in the first place. But I stared at the Wildflower for a moment, just to let them stew for a moment, then said, “How long have I got?”
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 02, 2008, 06:40:14 PM
"If you lay flat and don't move maybe another hour or two.  If you want to be an idiot kid and try to stand up like you are now, or walking around---about five minutes, if you are lucky."

I trusted his comment and slowly lowered to the ground again.  Still I had the Wildflower and apparently that entailed a great deal of power, enough to stop the Emporer if I believed.  If I really needed something....

"You guys need to get out of here, because I'm going to start hoping really hard for some of the Imperial Forces to come by to get me to a healer."

"What a minute kid."  Andre started forward.

Debbie stopped him, a hand on his shoulder.   "He's right.  We need to get out of here."  She stepped over to me and knelt down, touching my face gently.  "When they heal you, He will try to win you to his side and have you to fight Him.  He will use anything and anyone to get what He wants.  There is more at stake than you can imagine, but for now you must understand that if you work with Him--your earth that you know will be over.  Think, don't act without thinking out your options."  She lowered her lips to my forehead, kissing it gently, and then started to pull back.  I wouldn't put up with it and my hand took her by the neck and pulled her back.  Our lips touched for a brief moment but Andre was suddenly there pulling her back-away from me. 

"Enough of that.  Let's go."  They faded into the forest, literally faded.  It was freaky. 

I looked at the lightsabre and wondered what I was supposed to say to it.  i finally tried, "Get me to a healer."  No bear minions showed up, instead I faded as well.  When I re-materialized I was laying outside a stone hut positioned outside a giant stone fortess, complete with a smelly moat.  They didn't tell you that the moat was the septic system when you read fairy tales.

I groaned at sudden pain in my stomach.  The poison was doing its bit.  I picked up the lightsabre and knocked on the wood door.  I heard footsteps from within.  I looked up again at the fortress.  I was on my own.  No Andre, no Debbie.  I supposed Reza might be inside there, but even if she was I needed to do this on my own.  The stakes were too high to gamble on anyone else.

The door creaked open.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 02, 2008, 11:18:49 PM
The door creaked open.

   It was black, black, black inside the doorway. I peered inside but couldn’t see anything. A disembodied voice lilted from inside.
   “Come in, come in. What ails the young master?” It was a beautiful voice, soft and smooth. I hesitated for a moment, and then another cramp gripped my insides like a vice. I considered firing up my trusty lightsaber, Wildflower. I started giggling. My trusty blade, Wildflower! My trusty steed, Silver! I giggled furiously as I stepped over the threshold, unable to help myself. The minute I crossed into the hut, the world around me changed.
   I was standing in a small, cozy  room. Soft light from what seemed hundreds of miniature hanging globes lit the interior like glowing motes of stardust. The room was dominated by a huge wooden table placed directly in the center of the room, surrounded on the floor by a spiraling line of sigils and runes radiating from the base of the table all the way to the walls. My eyes were drawn to some movement off to the side.
   My host was absolutely stunning. She was all woman, from the waist up. Beautiful firebrand hair caught up in a bun, lovely smooth skin the green-blue color of a stormy sea. Her four breasts were covered (if you can call it that) with a diaphanous material that closely matched the color of her hair, and complemented the bright green fur that covered the rest of her body. I was thinking caterpillar. Ten, maybe twelve segments composed her lower half, each with its own set of double jointed legs. She flowed towards me, red eyes glowing brightly.
   “Injured, young master? Are you hurt? D’Vaisa can help you, to be sure.”
   “Spider,” I slurred, unable to control the now copious amounts of saliva streaming from the corners of my mouth. Which got me to giggling again, which caused even more cramping. I moaned in pain and dropped to my knees, which put me about face to face with my lovely doctor.
   “I can help, young master!” She lifted me as easily as a child might lift a doll and flowed to the table. “Up you go! We have little time, so please lie still, young master.” She raised herself up, each segment lifting from the floor until she stood on five pairs of legs, and gently laid me on the table. I smiled, drooled and doubled up with the now excruciating pain coursing through every inch of my body. The healer left my sight for a moment and then returned, carrying a vial of orange, glowing liquid. She pulled the stopper and raised it to my lips. It burned its way down my throat as I lay convulsing on the table, and then the world dimmed, went dark, and the sound of the healer’s chanting slowly faded away as I passed out.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 03, 2008, 05:34:47 AM
Quote
It burned its way down my throat as I lay convulsing on the table, and then the world dimmed, went dark, and the sound of the healer’s chanting slowly faded away as I passed out.

I woke up to see the beautiful Reza by my bedside, reading an old book in a text I didn't recognize. "Hey," I said through a dry mouth, "How did you survive the fall?"

She didn't look up from the book right away, she read until the end of the paragraph before putting it down and adressing me, "The pilot caught me as we fell. You're very lucky to be alive, it's good you made it here on time."

"Yep, that's me Lukcy McLuckster." I replied with something short of lightning intelligence.

Reza smiled, for the first time he noticed clusters of small scratches on her face and hands. Clearly from trapsing around the jungle. "You are very fortunate. You've slept for two of your days, the healers feared you might not waken. But they were...you know, encouraged by the King."

"You mean threatened."

"That too. But now that you live them and their families will be showered with riches and praises." She shifted from her seat and moved over to the bed I lay in. She sat on the edge and purposely placed a hand at a place high enough on the thigh to effect subconcious, but low enough to appear friendly, "As soon as you are well you will begin your service of the King. You will hold a most honorable position in his court." She scooched up towards me just a little bit further, so did the hand. "However, if you want to gain his favor immediately I want you to tell us something that will help the King secure his power against the Emperor."

I tried not to focus on her coveiniently placed hand. "Yeah, what would that be?"

She leaned in close, really close. So that I could have tilted my head and kissed her. Her lips came right next to my ear as the grip on my thigh tightened.

"I want you to tell me where Andre and Debyone Ursula are."

Her words sent chills down my spine that quelled the rising heat south of the equator.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on March 03, 2008, 06:17:09 AM
"I want you to tell me where Andre and Debyone Ursula are."

Her words sent chills down my spine that quelled the rising heat south of the equator.

Playing stupid wasn't hard, "I have no idea - I fell out of a helicopter, was bit by a poisonous spider and I've been unconscious for 2 days."  I said, telling myself it wasn't a complete lie - I couldn't be sure they were going in the direction they had said they would go, "Can I have some water please."

Reza moved back to pour a glass of rose colored liquid from a pitcher on the table next to my head.  She put her hand under my head to help me drink it.

"This will help you get your strength back." She said, looking at me like someone might look at a pet who had been frightened and hiding under the couch.  I was both relieved and supremely frustrated that I seemed to be so far over my head in things, that pity looked comforting to me.

"My Lord, He's awake." she called to someone in the next room.

I heard the healers many footed step followed by someone else. He had clear aquamarine colored almond shaped eyes with the kind of black hair that looked almost blue.  He was well built with a mother of pearl iridescent skin tone.  He was beautiful and radiated a power and confidence that made me want to join his army and follow this man into battle.

"I am glad to see you are alright." he said smiling gently, "I've been waiting for you."

I had a sudden realization that the light saber was on a table on the other side of the room.  Not that I needed it right now, only it was like it had tapped me on the shoulder in my mind.  When I concentrated on it and looked at him I could see that the smile was an act, and though the power that radiated from him was real, it was manipulative and calculating.  The man embodied the philosophies of Machiavelli.

"how can I assist you?" I croaked.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on March 03, 2008, 07:25:07 AM

"how can I assist you?" I croaked.


I had a brief moment of clarity, staring up at the man before me. For a moment I understood my place in events, everything clicked into place, and the truth that the fate of more than just earth might be resting on my shoulders, all of it depending on the choices I made.

But then the sheer amount of events focused solely upon me flooded over my thoughts, and I found myself just as lost as before. My mind reeled. was that flash the wildflower telling me to be careful? was the wildflower sentient? so many questions and it seemed the only people with the answers wanted to use me and keep me dumb.

The king smiled widely. I could imagine that sharks had that smile when they knew they had the slower, stupider fish. "My boy, you do not merely 'assist' the king," he spoke in silky smooth words. I looked over to see Reza practically swooning, just from the sound of his voice. "You serve the kingdom, and I, as the agent for the needs of the kingdom, will be the one directing you to better aid us."

It took effort to hide me wincing. I mean, he just said "you're my slave" in a very roundabout way. I guess if his voice had the same affect on me as it seemed to have on the rest of his subjects (even D'vaisa seemed to be teetering on her many legs), I might already being pledging my allegiance to him... er, the realm.

I tried my best to look lost (which was pretty easy), the last words of Andre and Debbie were ringing in my head. "I....I need some time to rest" I said softly, "may we speak again soon?" I tried to give him puppy eyes. I mean, if he was going to treat me like a stupid child, then I can use that to my advantage.

The kings smile faltered, turning almost into a scowl before he seemed to recover. "Of course, my boy, the resources of my castle are yours to use, until you are of sufficient health to start your duties to the Realm". with that he turned and flowed, no stepping, it was like he glided, out of the room.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on March 06, 2008, 02:48:52 AM
"Of course, my boy, the resources of my castle are yours to use, until you are of sufficient health to start your duties to the Realm". with that he turned and flowed, no stepping, it was like he glided, out of the room.
 
(click to show/hide)
I tried not to show that I breathed a sigh of relief when he left. D'vaisa seemed to regain her balance again but almost twittered with excitement. "Fortunate you are Young Master that the King will help you with the direction of the wildflower.  He is..." she paused and seemed to quiver with the very thought of him, "an extraordinary man."

The only thing I had see that was extraordinary about him was his magical power to influence other people (and maybe that floating-out-of-the-room thing).  "Sure." I nodded but I wasn't able to keep all the sarcasm out of my voice and Reza scowled at me before she caught herself.

"His Highness was generous to give you time to recuperate after your foolish actions in the helicopter that caused you to come to harm." she grated,"use it wisely to get some sleep so that you may serve the kingdom tomorrow." 

D'vaisa missed the threat, "Oh he will be ready to rise and move around tomorrow.  Not maybe all day but some time." she nodded assessing my health honestly.  Reza smiled like a serpent to a mouse and stood up and looked down at me, "Till tomorrow then, human Joey." she purred and sauntered out of the room.  I watched her go until she had closed the door behind her and couldn't hear what was about to happen next.  Something had occurred to me and so far D'vaisa had been so honest about everything else.

"D'vaisa?" I caught her attention, "Why did the spider poison work when the wildflower was supposed to protect me?"

The many segmented healer pushed back the stray red hair that had come loose from her bun. "The Wildflower will do what it needs, to get you where you are needed, to do what is needed, as it's focus young Joey." she tilted her head as if I was asking her to explain why people had feet. 

I nodded as if I understood this cryptic crap, "and what does it need?"

She smiled again and I wanted to shake her "It needs balance, it needs order and chaos, good and evil, awe and cynicism, magic and technology to have equal parts in the world."  She squinted into the distance, "Young master you come from a world that has little magic and the Emperor comes from a world where magic powers everything.  You are two sides of the same blade. The magic connects everything and you as a pure human have the least connection.  You can not burn with it, you simply channel it. It passes into you and through you without ... making you something else.  You will never hold it in your mind and body but you will, eventually be able to grasp it and push it."

Now I was very confused, "I thought It will do what is needed?"

She nodded as if I had finally understood something, "Yes, yes, light a candle - cast a shadow.  Where there is darkness it will make you it's light, where there is light you will be darkness.  And if things are kept in balance then no power will present itself to you."  she smiled again, "the king will keep you in neutral areas until you are needed then, will send you where balance is needed."

Somewhere in my philosophical ignorance a lightbulb went on, "so if I stay in balanced areas I will never have access to this power.  I'll never learn to use it."

She laughed as if I said something funny rather than something disturbingly chilling, "The king is a great man, he will find a use for you, and no place is completely balanced in all things."

I fervently hoped that I would get to balance things enough to escape the king's machinations.  I had a feeling the balance of power was sadly lacking in much of the world of Wildfire to force someone like me to take a role in things.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 06, 2008, 11:24:29 PM
I awoke early the next day, just before sunrise.  D'Vaisa had laid out clothes for me.  Proper clothes, if not a little fancy.  Some tights that were impossible to get on, knee bloomers that fastened just below my kneecaps.  The shirt was a rich, elegant nubbed silk of some sort.  A wide leather belt, the same as had been given to me in the helicopter held everything in place. There was also a hat, with a ridiculous feather in it.  I left it on the bed, when in Rome rules had limits after all. Soft jerkin boots that reached mid-calf felt worn and comfortable to my feet.  I wouldn't be getting blisters at least.

On the table where Wildflower lay, was the leather shoulder harness and an intricately worked metal scabbard.  The soft tooled leather harness carried impressed gold runes which were meaningless to me but probably warded off evil or something.  I slipped it over my head and left shoulder, which would grant  me access to Wildflower's hilt with my right hand.

As the sun slipped into through the nearby window, it reflected on the saber, laying upon a side table.  For the first time I could see and touch the thing that had set my life on such an improbable path.  It looked like a ceremonial sword.  When needed, it had glowed with powerful energy that had made my hair stand on end, but it also possessed  real shape and form, not just energy.  Now it lay domant, shining in the morning sun without the energy but still looking beautiful & deadly.

To test the blade, I ran my finger over it's sharp edge and blood was drawn with surgical efficiency.  The business end was smooth, gently curving without nick or scratch.  The blade end nearest the hilt carried etchings that bore deep into the metal.  Looking closer, I could make out a series of wild flowers intermixed with unknown runes.  I touched them gently. It didn't roar to life as it had when I had needed it's power but the individual wild flower did light from within and a soft tone emitted.  I touched the others, seven total, each carrying a color of the rainbow.  When I experimented running my fingers up the entire side of the blade they streaked color outwards.  In doing so, I felt an eighth, hidden half under the simple metal guard.  When I touched it, the light blazed white, lighting up the still shadowy corners of the room with its brillance.  The white carried no audible tone, to my ears at least.  I was sure that the colors meant something, that they denoted perhaps various magical abilities within the sword.  If nothing else, the white light would mark my path into the darkest dungeon or the blackest of caves.

The hilt guard was so simple, as to not be non-existant.  I doubted it was terribly efficient in parrying a thrust from an opponent, but what did I know about swords?  Looking closely, I realized that there was a small  retangular cut next to the blade along each side of the guard.  Perhaps it was designed to "catch" the opponet's weapon in some way?  I shook my head, I didn't know enough about sword design and I didn't think I'd get a chance to google it anytime soon.

From past usage, I knew that the handle molded itself perfectly to my grip but I didn't take it up.  Soft brown leather wrapped it.  Gold had once embelished it, but it was worn now, barely noticeable to my eye.  The end--a bud shaped carved metal ball. The unblemished beauty of a rosebud for a virgin?  Okay, let's not dwell on that yet.

I finally picked it up in my right hand and felt it humm with a soft resinating power that filled me with a sense of confidence and a healthy contentment.  It did not glow, but the power was there for me to call when needed and it physically indicated that to me.  I guess better to say, when it called me into service.   I slipped it into the sabbard, where it settled with smooth familiarity. I pulled it out several times and thrust it back in. There was a slight catch between the leather inside the metal scabbard and the metal of the hilt--a physical rubbing or griping that held it securely in place & that resisted only slightly when I pulled it out.

D'Vaisa still not awake or perhaps already gone, I opened the front door of the stone hut and exited into the stone thorofare outside where morning merchants were pulling handcarts filled with food stock and trinkets for a morning market.  No one took heed of my presence.  I wondered just how far I could make it outside the area around the fortress before someone, or something stopped me.  I hadn't gone far, when I saw a glint off a mirror perhaps up in a tree that settled on my face. Looking up, I saw Debbie and Andre--I'd rather they were miles away and safe.  One, I didn't really trust them to have my benefit at heart and I saw no way that they could help me without coming to peril themselves.  Still they were there and I hoped would remain out of sight.


(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mameluke_sword)


Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on March 08, 2008, 07:00:12 AM
I hadn't gone far, when I saw a glint off a mirror perhaps up in a tree that settled on my face. Looking up, I saw Debbie and Andre--I'd rather they were miles away and safe.  One, I didn't really trust them to have my benefit at heart and I saw no way that they could help me without coming to peril themselves.  Still they were there and I hoped would remain out of sight.

The marketplace was unlike anything I could have expected. Beings of every shape and size moved amongst each other, stopping in front of stalls to barter for goods. But the entire place was oddly quiet, in fact the only voices I heard were usually the Vendors to their help, or amongst the people not currently shopping.

It wasn't until I got close enough to a stall that I saw why. The buyer would point out an object, and the vendor would place it on the table between them. The buyer would then place his money (I could only assume the small, moss green gems everyone had was money) or wares on the opposite end, and both sides would then move their contents closer to the center, or pull back depending on what was added or removed to their respective piles. When both piles were in a stripe painted bright yellow down the center of the table, did they shake hands and the barter was considered done.

The fact that this was all done without a word spoken mesmerized me, and I was threatened away from several bartering tables after watching the transactions for hours. Silently I untucked my shirt and let it fold loosely over the jeweled pommel of the wildflower, silently praying it was still the plastic FX lightsaber that began it's life with me.

A flash of light came from another tree down the way. I squinted into it and Saw Debbie and Andre, mouthing something at me. Suddenly they tilted the mirror up, and i heard a gasp behind me. I turned fast, hand on my blade, but all I saw were a couple of guys squinting as Debbies mirror blinded them.

Then they blurred a bit, nondescript robes gave way to military looking uniforms and rather nasty-looking maces. But then the light was gone, and the two figures were just another pair of shoppers. I tried to not stare and quickly turned a corner. Debbie and Andre were gone from their perch. So I was being followed.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 08, 2008, 02:14:42 PM
Debbie and Andre were gone from their perch. So I was being followed.

Of course. It made sense that the King would want to keep an eye on me or maybe send some goons to fetch me to him. So far, the two soldiers seemed to be keeping their distance, so I was guessing that their mission was observe and report. A thought struck me as I watched the two disguised men walk by my alley slowly, heads swiveling back and forth as they searched the street for me. I was looking for a chink in the disguise, an imperfection or telltale sign that would alert me whenever I encountered a disguised person, but nothing disrupted the look of an average joe out shopping for lizard entrails or finger symbols or whatever the hell it was people bartered for here. My dilemma became one of not just watching out for these two. Unless I wielded the Wildflower, which I was sure would give me the light I needed to penetrated the disguises, I had no way to tell if anyone I saw was just a normal person or someone in disguise. What I needed was a good flashlight.
   I felt a weird tingling sensation over my whole body. You need no flash of light. They will not notice you now. It took me a few seconds of turning and looking around frantically before I realized that the Wildflower was speaking to me.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 09, 2008, 05:41:25 PM
I turned to a glazed window to my right where I had just seen my wavering image.  It was gone.  Wildflower had given me invisibility, which was pretty incredible.  Then again the lights on the saber might indicate it used light as a major power and invisibility was a matter of refracting/rearranging light as any Harry Potter fan can tell you.  At least that's how I always thought the cloak worked. I lifted my shirt and pulled out the Wildflower.  The green etching was glowing.  Okay--green invisibility or light twisting.

I stepped out into the flow of traffic and turned back.  Footsteps in the sand.  It was light twisted then, not for real invisibility.   I started back down through the people, very carefully avoiding anyone bumping into me.  I looked up to the fortress and then towards the tree branches, masking Andre and Debbie.  Which way to go?  At last I decided to head out of the market place towards the tree and the assumed freedom beyond. 

Near the edge of the market, some boys ran straight into me, racing past.  The last was passing me with a homemade doll clutched in one of his hands.  A young girl beside one of the market stalls burst into tears, screaming to bring back her baby.  Without thought, I reached out and brought the young offender back, removed the doll, and handed it back to the upset girl.  She leaned forward and hugged me about my legs, her returned baby tucked safely away.   Obviously the green button had gone off and I was no longer invisible.  I looked down and, through the thin silk shirt, streaming out of the sabbard was the full color range of Wildflower.  Wow, was that what it did, when it restored the fulcrum between good and evil?  Debbie had said that it was large and small things that caused disruption in the teeter totter of life in this world.  So even something as small as righting a conflict between children was of importance to Wildflower.

The rainbow lit the young girl's face and she immediately backed away.  She couldn't be but four or five.  She turned and raced to her mother manning the stall and tugged on her dress, pointing my way.  The mother was bartering, silently, but when she looked up and saw me standing there with rainbow lights streaming out.  The woman stood slowly and nodded her head downwards, the young girl repeated the action, then the buyer at the stall turned and saw me and did the same.  I spun around wanting to disappear into the crowd but the young boys had come back and were standing in my way, their heads bowed but eyes on the lights. 

The one who had taken the doll spoke in hushed tones, "I am sorry, Wildflower.  I should not have taken the doll.  I will not do so again."  Then he tipped his head upwards, eyes huge in his small face, "May we see the Wildflower?  Please Master Gardner, may we see it?  My father says that he saw it once when he was a boy, but the Imperor took it and locked it within the fortress where no one could see it.  My father says it is ours, not the Imperor's and it is our right to have the Master Gardner live among us, not locked with it in the fortress.  Please may we see it?"

Another boy spoke louder, his voice shaking in fear, covering his eyes.  "No, do not show us, the Imperor says we will die if we look at it."

The young thief pushed at his friend, "No it will not.  It is a lie the Imperor has said to make us afraid.  Wildflower will not hurt us, neither will the Master Garder."  the tow headed kid looked to me with a fearful expression, looking for confirmation. 

Beyond our small circle the news had spread, several had approached, but beyond I saw a crowd of the soldiers, no longer magically cloaked, pushing their way through the crowd.  Wildflower whispered,  "Show me to the people."  I didn't question the words but pulled out Wildflower and held it over my head.  The rainbow colors blasted outwards into and over the people and stretched as high in the air as I could see.  Overall, a pretty nifty special effect.  The crowd started crying out, applauding, some bowing down.  Those unfortunate to be near the soldiers however were tossed like leaves in the wind as they closed on my position. 

Over the confusion and noise came a louder voice and the thundering of horse's hooves.  People scattered willingly out of the way and Debbie on a giant horse bore down on my position.  She carried the reins of another horse, equally as tall.  She pulled her horse back onto its haunches, stopping both beasts dramatically before me.  The young boys scrambled to get out of the way and I stuffed Wildflower back into the scabbard. 

"Get on the horse, you fool!"  Debbie screamed.  I glanced back at the soldiers, now within a few feet.  I grabbed the saddle, stuck my foot in the stirrup, as Debbie turned and raced the horses back out of the market place into the surrounding forest.  Only one problem, I hadn't managed to get my other foot over the horse to get into the saddle.  It wasn't as easy as it looks in the movies.  So I rather dangled and hung on for dear life beside it as we raced.  The people filled the gap behind us, holding up the soldiers.  I could see a contingency of mounted soldiers pouring out of the fortess main gates, but we had a huge lead on them.

That's when Cloud who Farts, showed up.

Okay, maybe some housekeeping notes:  Green - light twisting, invisibility being one power.  White - awesome flashlight that can see past magical disquises.  Rainbow - mission accomplished. 

Finally I thought that the saber could also be a lyre or small harp, again only one octave---as Debbie had asked, "Is that what it looks like to you?" of Joey.  Just a note incase we find a place to insert it later.


How about a place to ask clarifying questions, in case they come up. 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 10, 2008, 03:10:05 AM
Quote
That's when Cloud who Farts, showed up.

Maybe 'showed up' wasn't quite the appropriate termanology. More like 'phased into existance' right in front of our horses. Either from the shock of the suddenness of the appearence, the smell that must have been terrible to a horse, or the fact that herbavores always freak out when a predator is near by, the animals underneath us freaked. They reared up and sqealed terrified screams.

My grip was bad enough as it was. The sudden rising startled me, before I knew it the cobblestone road was breaking my fall. My head connected with it, hard. Where black didn't dance at the corners of my vision, sunspots dominated. I remained like that for a moment. In a haze of rainbows and darkness that I wanted to just sink into really badly. But I saw Debbie's horse rear back too, moments after mine. She was clearly more acrobatic than I was, but she fell at a bad angle, and ended up hitting the ground with only slightly more grace than I managed. Her hand came down first and was unable to support her weight.

It was the sound of the bone snapping in her arm and the screaming that pulled me from my confused haze. At least partially. She lay, writhing, only a few feet from me. It seemed wrong, shouldn't I have had the strength to craw over to her. Make sure she got out of there okay.

Ring Wraith Wannabe beat me to it. He decended on Debbie like a grim reaper. A single, pale spidery hand emerged from the black smoke that seemed to pass as clothing. Impossibly long, it reached towards Debbie without the monster ever even having to bend over. Just seemed to keep coming from somewhere in the cloud. She saw it coming towards her, and in that moment fear like I'd never seen crossed her face. She stared at the skelatal hand coming towards her, and was clearly too terrified to move.

I wanted to help her. Desperately. But wouldn't you know it? I was too damned terrified to move as well.

I never liked Andre much, from the moment I saw him I didn't know whether to like or dislike him. But right about then I wanted to shower his blond, hat covered head with praises and flowers. He was a blond blur that landed just outside the circle of guards that had now formed. I could barely follow as he launched himself at the enemy. The next thing I knew the offending pale arm was flying through the air, unattatched to the wraith. Andre stood between Debbie and the creature, with a kind of cold anger burning in his eyes that promised so much more than immediate retribution. "You. Can. Not. Have. Her. BASTARD!!!" He then threw himself at the creature, swinging a strange Chinese style sword in and attempt to lop off its head. The blade seemed to go right through. "Debbie! MOVE, girl!" He called at her.

Debbie had recovered and scurried over to me. I noticed for the first time that she no longer had the ruby bracelette on her wrist. I didn't have time to contemplate whether or not I really wanted to go with her, she grabbed my shoulder, "Joey, please. Take us out of here. We NEED to GO!" She yelled.

I was too stunned to do much. But I did know one thing. If I didn't find some way to get out of there, Debbie would die. Questionable loyalties aside...I still cared about her as much as any friend. I didn't think I could bear to watch anything happen to her. It was the sudden pain at the thought of her loss that activated the Wildflower. We began to disapear, and Andre stopped his fight. He glanced our direction. I could have sworn I saw a small smile cross his face as he stepped away from the wraith and turned himself in to the throng of guards watching the brawl.

Debbie and I reappeared, stunned, and shaken, in a quiet marsh setting. Her breath was ragged with shock and tears. Her one working hand was gripping me so tightly I thought the nails would pierce the skin. "Damnit...I could have...He didn't have to. Oh, GODS!" For the first time I saw whatever resolve she had crumble.

"Why did he just walk into the guards like that?" I said, trying not to sound accusing.

"That THING," She said, between sobs, "Wouldn't have led him go. He walked into the guards so he could live for another few hours." She turned to me, "Joey. They're going to execute him. We have to DO something. Please."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 15, 2008, 06:57:07 AM
I had a serious headache coming on and frankly I was sick and tired of playing the hero.  I'd gladly hand the Wildflower off to the nearest pitch hitter, but no one was going to be coming.  I couldn't go on as we had though, if I didn't get some sort of fucking plan together, we were all going to die.

1. Debbie had a broken arm.
2. "Daddy mage" was being held, probably in the fricking huge fortress, guarded by minions AND one scary, deadly Fart Cloud and at the most I had a couple hours to organize and mount a mission.  "Daddy" was probably in non-magic mode with another ruby bracelet, so he wasn't going to be any help in the escape at all.
3. The Emperor was a mind control freak of major proportions.
4. The people of this world needed to be free from the Emperor.
5. Earth and everyone I knew was next step down on the food chain list.

So no problem.  I needed a healer, I needed an army to scale the walls of the fortress to rescue Andre, I needed on huge kick ass mage terminator for Fart Cloud, and I needed to permanently wipe the Emperor out of the picture--which if I could do all that, then I was home free.  Well, except for having to stay a virgin.  That sucked big time.

To top it off, I was hungry.  I'd skipped breakfast and I hadn't felt like eating since landing in the kingdom of Oz, what with little matters like being rescued from the bad guys more than once, falling out an airplane, being bitten by a deadly snake, threatened by an Emperor, and now being thrown from a horse after once more escaping with my life.  Things were out of hand, major, big time, fucking out of control.  That's when Debbie must have reached her limit because she started crying, holding her broken arm. 'Fuck it all,' I thought.  'Just Fuck the whole damn hero thing.' I yanked Wildflower out of it's holster thing and took a whack at the nearest tree.  Bad move, it actually fell and I barely got of its path as it crashed down.  I walked over to the downed tree trunk and sat on it and hoped for some wisdom to break out one brilliant blasted plan to take care of everything, so we'd all end up living happily ever after.  BUT NO that would be too easy!  Don't give the hero a break.  Don't give the hero a Happy Meal to eat either. 

I leaned over with my elbows on my knees wanting to vomit, when that didn't happen, I started knocking the flat side of Wildflower into my head.  Maybe I'd be lucky and it would impart some ass kicking monster plan.  As soon as I thought about it, I stopped and waited, looking around.  Nope, no luck.  Nothing, nada, zilch.  I was screwed. I was so screwed.

I stood up and thrust Wildflower back into it's scabbard and walked over to the crying Debbie.  I tripped on the way over.  Yeah, real hero like.  I ended up falling pretty much in front of her.  At least she stopped crying, but her arm was swelling and turning blue.  That couldn't be good.

"Debbie, here's the plan.  I'm not going any further without a kick ass healer who follows us around on a retainer."  She nodded, of course she would, she was the one with the broken arm.  "Next we can't do this alone anymore.  We need reinforcements, big time who can fight, scale walls, and kill goons."  She nodded again in agreement.  "Finally, someone needs to zap that cloud fart into non-existance, along with the Emperor and last thing, I'm damn hungry!" 

A sound behind us, had me spinning the Wildflower out, ready for bad things.  I was a little surprised when little green men walked out of fricking Sherwood Forest.  They even had the funny hats with feathers. Behind them came Friar Tuck with one huge turkey leg the size of my arm.   



   
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 20, 2008, 06:06:36 AM
Behind them came Friar Tuck with one huge turkey leg the size of my arm.     

Who the hell are these guys? I thought. I asked for an army; I got the “It’s a Small World” cast from Mars. On a whim, I blurted out, “Okay, which of youse tough guys is the doc?” The little green guys all stopped at once, each of them tilting their heads and staring at me with piercing blue eyes like I was the alien. Which, of course, I guess I was in this world. Friar Tuck, on the other hand, simply lumbered forward, dropping the fleshless bone of his turkey leg into the swamp and wiping his greasy hands on his well worn tunic. I was pretty sure it wasn’t for the first time, either.
   He approached Debbie, who stood absolutely stock still, a look of stunned amazement on her face. She glanced at me quickly; the kind of look you’d give the door lock on your car when you were trying to open it in a hurry while keeping an eye on the hulking stranger in the parking lot. He reached for her broken arm, and suddenly I found a well of good-intentioned, but completely misplaced protectionism. I leapt between the Hulk in all his glorious, green, 7 foot tall glory and my frightened, gaping damsel in distress, the Wildflower blazing a multitude of hues as I thrust it out in front of me. The creature simply reached out and gently moved the Wildflower to one side, then grasped Debbie’s broken arm with care I’d not thought possible with hands the size of dinner plates. He closed his azure orbs briefly and hummed tunelessly for a moment, a sound more felt than heard as he mumbled and grumbled. Then he released Debbie, who fell straight down on the grass. Her arm seemed good as new.
   She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I don’t believe it! You called the Crane’s Guild! How did…..I mean, what…..that is, I….” She stammered. She was at a loss for word. Me, I’m never at a loss for words, which sometimes is a detriment.
   “I called who? It looks like I called the Incredible Hulk and his fifty kids!”
   “Who is Incredible Hulk?” asked the Incredible Hulk. “My name Humbert!” he laughed.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 21, 2008, 08:57:39 AM
Quote
“Who is Incredible Hulk?” asked the Incredible Hulk. “My name Humbert!” he laughed.[/QUOTE}

I stood there for a moment in absolute shock at the man with a laugh jollier than that of Santa Claus, "Debbie, who is this guy? Who are the dwarfs?"

She snorted, "That's, actually, exactly what they are."

My day just kept getting better and better and freaking better. "Yeah," I growled back, "Where's Snow White?"

She gulped, looked at Humbert, then looked back at me, then back at him, "Joey! Show some respect!"

"Why?" I whispered back.

"They're the Crane's Guild." As if that explained everything, "They're a secret guild of magic users that have pledged to only use good magic. They sprung up not too long after the Emperor conquered Wildfire and started enlisting all magic users into his corps. They...refused to fight, among other things..."

Humbert's great booming voice entered the conversation. He wasn't angry, I just assumed this was the natural state of his voice, whether he was happy, sad, angry. Right about then I would have gone with sad more than anything else. "Emperor is a terrible leader of men. He forces people to serve him, and then changes their shapes. Turns them to monsters that should not tread anything, not air or water, earth or sky."

My heart skipped a beat as my mind made a connection, "Like, Farts in the Wind? The...that Gascious Cloud of Evil, that's what he turned the magic users into?"

Debbie shook her head, "No...his kind existed long before sentient beings walked this world. He's talking about the spider warriors that attacked us. They are the Emperor's army. All magic users were ordered to report for duty...and forced to change the shape of their body and heart to best fit the needs of the Empire..." She spoke with pain in her voice, like the very thought disgusted her, and I suspected she had some personal connection to the atrocity.

But...the spider-folk had been scary enough when I thought they were just your plain ol' generic monster. But the thought that those things were once people gave me goosebumps. Would this guy stop at nothing?

Before I could ask anything else, Debbie rose to her feet only to abruptly drop back down onto her hands and feet and bow a moment later. "Great Sage Humbert. My name is Debyone Ursula, and you have my greatest thanks to you for healing my arm...If I may beg one more thing of you. I cannot help but feel there is some sort of fate involved in our meeting here. My...father," She seemed to struggle with the word, "has been taken by the King and his men, he awaits execution in the dungeons for the thievery of the Wildflower. I beg of you to help me free him."

More sadness crossed across Humbert's face, it had never occured to me that a man like THAT could be sad about anything, ever. But it seemed as though he was a perfect example of the gentle giant. He placed a large hand on Debbie's shoulder, gently, reassuringly, "Rise. I do not like people to bow before me. I have done nothing deserving." Debbie slowly rose to her feet, and Humbert continued, "Child, I understand your plight. But cannot help. If all who attained power such as mine used it simply at his own will to change fates of men then the world would be filled with tyrants like the Emperor."

Wow...Incredible Hulk, Santa Claus, and Buddha all wrapped into one ginormous package.

"Please," She begged, "You're the only one with the power."

Oh yeah, I was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming feeling of her absolute faith in me.

He took his large eyes off of her and looked straight at me. I could have sworn he was staring right through the layers of pasty skin, thin covering of muscles, guts, cells, atoms, and looked into my very soul. It wasn't unpleasant like all the movies suggested such an intrusion would be. He just calmly looked through me and seemed to instantly have a grasp of everything from my history to the nature of my being. It was an interesting experience, I knew the importance of what just happened, but my emotions just couldn't seem to register it to form any kind of an emotion around it. "It seems," he said in a deep voice, "That I am not."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on March 21, 2008, 08:49:37 PM
Quote
It was an interesting experience, I knew the importance of what just happened, but my emotions just couldn't seem to register it to form any kind of an emotion around it. "It seems," he said in a deep voice, "That I am not."

Debbie turned to look at me and then back to the giant in front of us.  At that point she chose her words carfully, "Joey has power but no knowlege or practice in using it."

Humbert smiled crookedly, "He can't get practice without using it."

Debbie looked over at me for support, like I would help her tell them I was an idiot.  I shrugged, "I'm willing to try." I said, and she looked like she wanted to slap me, so I continued looking at our new friends, "but I could use some help."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on March 23, 2008, 06:19:05 AM
Quote
Debbie looked over at me for support, like I would help her tell them I was an idiot.  I shrugged, "I'm willing to try." I said, and she looked like she wanted to slap me, so I continued looking at our new friends, "but I could use some help."

Humbert laughed and whacked a huge hand on my shoulder, "It takes real man to admit weakness." Aside from the fact that his hand rattled my rib cage I was somewhat reassured. He turned to Debbie, "All right, I cannot say I will save your father. But I will teach you both how to save him."

Debbie released a great deal of tension, so much so that she looked like she was about to start crying from relief, "T-Thank you."

I blinked, "Um. Are we forgetting the fact that we only have a few hours before they-" I was about to say something along the lines of 'dangle him like an ornament from the gallows' but I bit it off almost immediatly. I was willing to bet that it would only make Debbie start crying again. See, I can think before I talk. Instead I said, "send Andre to hell."

What? Did you honestly expect me to be able to control my inner cynic twice?

But on the bright side she didn't start crying, she just glared daggers at me.

Humbert looked at me and sighed, "Young man, insisting eternal damnation of a woman's father is not best way to make her like you."

My cheek twitched in ammusement, but stopped when I realized he was serious. I quickly changed the subject, "So, what kind of training do we need?"

Humbert shook his large head, "I will train you. My highest mage will train Debyone." He waved a massive hand toward a place where nothing stood.

There was a shimmer of light, and a dwarf that was MUCH older than any of the others. He had a long white beard and eyebrows so thick I was amazed he could see through them. "I heard your call, Great Sage." he looked Debbie over, "I feel I can work with her."

Humbert nodded, "Very well then. We should begin."

I wasn't ready for one of his massive hands to come flying towards my face.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: GWiz on March 23, 2008, 11:02:04 PM
I wasn't ready for one of his massive hands to come flying towards my face.

     Even more shocking was the fact that his blow did not land. The air seemed to shimmer for a moment, then suddenly I was looking at Humbert’s back. As I watched, his body contorted impossibly and suddenly there was a huge mace in his hand, conjured out of nowhere and whistling towards my skull. Without thinking, I drew the Wildflower and parried the strike. Instead of the expected clang of metal on metal, I heard a sound like a million stringed instruments striking a discordant note. It unnerved me enough that I almost missed Humbert’s back stroke, barely raising the Wildflower in time to save my ribs from what surely would have been a crushing blow. Again and again he swung. I blocked all the blows until I started thinking about a counter-attack, and then a bruising down stroke struck a glancing blow to my shoulder. I fell heavily and rolled as the mace crushed the ground where my head had just been, raising the blazing Wildflower in front of me to ward off the next attack.
   Which never came. “You did well until now,” rumbled Humbert. “But you made a mistake. Do you know what it was you did wrong?”
   I slowly relaxed my guard and stared at the behemoth before shrugging my shoulders. “I don’t even know how I got this far.”
   “The Wildflower is a part of you, and you are a part of the Wildflower. Do not think about your next move. The Wildflower uses you as you use it. You falter when you try to bend it to your will, as it fails when harmony fails.”
   He lashed out with a vicious swipe that would have removed my kneecaps, but impossibly, the Wildflower sang in answer, blocking the blow. Humbert laughed gloriously. “AHA! He listens well!”
   I would’ve thought that riotously funny any other time, but the mace was speeding towards my face, so I stopped thinking about anything and let the Wildflower work it’s magic. Just when I was starting to feel pretty damn good about not getting smacked, Humbert’s mace attack stopped and he thundered a command as he held the mace in front of him. An unseen force blasted into my chest and flung me to the ground several yards away.
   “You’ve seen how the Wildflower protects you,” he shouted. “Now it’s time for you to use your magic to protect the Wildflower.” Humbert advanced slowly with the mace held stiffly out in front of him. I could see blue energy crackling up and down its length. Magic? What magic? I had no idea what I was gonna do.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 27, 2008, 04:50:23 PM
Debbie saw the Humbert's swift change to mace bearing attacker and yanked out her sword just in time to parry the old mage's that winked into existance at the same time.  Assuming that Joey would hold his own somehow, she concentrated on her own "tutor".  Debbie had a lot more experience than Joey.  She'd played with small throwing knifes at the age of four and moved on to full swords by the time she ten.  The mage continued the forward attack and Debbie fell backwards towards the line of trees, easily avoiding the frontal attacks.  As she reached the tree line she shifted to offense but the mage matched her skill without giving ground.  Debbie slipped back to defensive and drew the mage closer.  The speed of his attacks continued to increase in tiny incriments, as if testing her ability.  She still was breathing easily and under little stress, but she wasn't gaining ground, nor speed...managing to stay even with the mage's pace of attack.

The mage shifted tactics and took a broad stroke two feet horizontal to the ground.  If it had made contact it would have cut Debbie's legs off at the knees.  She let the stroke follow through, nimbly leaping up, pulling her legs easily out of the way.  Then attacked from the height of her leap with a 45 degree sweep of her own on her way down, landing with her back against one of the trees.  The mage side stepped and attacked straight on.  Debbie faded through and past the tree and the mages sword removed a chunk of wood from the huge trunk, sending it flying.  Debbie attacked from behind the tree but the mage quickly cornered the tree and attacked with another horizontal low strike.  Debbie lofted again, this time landing and balancing about three feet up on one of the tree branches.  The shift in position was a surprise and she giggled at the shift in height.  The Mage smiled and nodded approval before leaping upwards himself with another horizontal stroke.  Debbie lept up to the next branch and their battle shifted from one level to several. The attacks shorter as the branches of the trees now impeded their range of motion.

Debbie and the mage danced like small birds, ever increasing in height above the ground.  Debbie was winded now but still delighted with this new direction of attack and retreat.  Near the top of the tree, Debbie made a loud excited yell and leaped outwards almost 45 feet up from the ground, the mage following behind her.  Debbie bobbled slightly in the air and the mage held off his attack while she adapted herself to her new position.  Her face was thrilled as she teetered in space without falling. 

Slowly she started to spin, still suspended until she was like a small tornado and suddenly out of the pillar came her sword, flashing as it spun rapidly attacking.  The mage re-engaged her attack with a whoop of excitement.  From below two of the azure eyed green men grabbed up their swords and took to the air.  Soon Debbie was surrounded, easily fending off the attacks.  As she managed to knock green men down, they fell without injury to the ground and other's quickly replaced them and then added to the number engaged in fighting her. 

Having found her wings, Debbie grew bored with the spinning and with a cry of excitement lowered her sword and sent her body upwards another 50 feet.  Only the mage followed.  She parried the attack with ease and turned head downwards in a sharp dive.  The mage remained where he was until she pulled herself up sharply just before landing.  He pulled the sword's hilt to his lips and smiling saluted her.  The green men surrounded her, congratulating her on her new found skill.

 Edited: let's see one may teeter totter, but one probably should not be teeted--- changed to teetered :-)
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on March 27, 2008, 10:41:13 PM
Good fight scene meg but we shifted from first person to third person POV. Now I know that's not allowed if you were writing this by yourself but I'm willing to go with the flow and flip back and forth if people want...
        “You’ve seen how the Wildflower protects you,” he shouted. “Now it’s time for you to use your magic to protect the Wildflower.” Humbert advanced slowly with the mace held stiffly out in front of him. I could see blue energy crackling up and down its length. Magic? What magic? I had no idea what I was gonna do.

"I don't have any magic" I said throwing my hands out in front of me, my voice rising in panic.

Humbert laughed without slowing his attack, "Of course you don't - your from Earth.  The wildflower doesn't have a human body to use a sword either..."

The blue electrical looking magic shot out and I felt it shoot up my right arm.

Several things happened at once then.  My arm went numb with pain and I dropped the wildflower as my arm spasmed with the shock.  At the same time I felt the wildflower distantly in my perception as I did that morning with the king.  I knew it was there and could sense the blue electric as it hit my nerves, and I could sense the power of the Wildflower.  For an extended micro second, time froze and I was stunned at the artifacts conection with all the kinds of energy around me, as far and intense as I could percieve and further.  For that moment it was like stepping from a clausterphobic cave into a windswept hillside overlooking trees, sky, and ocean.  I had a sense of things that that were too small to see and the intricate systems of conections in the world around me that would have been too vast to percieve without the magic.

But the power itself wasn't mine.

I was the empty jar waiting to be filled. Or in this case the empty wire conected to the resister waiting to ground the energy.

Time started again and seemed to make up for the pause, as I was quickly hit in the left leg and right shoulder with bolts of energy - each one more powerful than the last.  I stumbled back on instinct but reached for the sword on the ground and pictured the light saber in my mind flying into Luke Skywalkers hand. 

The Wildflower came to me and flared into the light saber I had first seen it as, and with a nausiating shift in perception I felt for, and then pulled at the power of the ground under my feet.  I felt it moving through me in a miriad of perceptions; the ground power here had a musky taste, a smell like fresh turned dirt, and a thick, mossy green-brown color.  It overwhelmed my senses for a moment as I saw it flow out of me in a green wave that caught and disapated the blue lightning coming from my fairytale sparring partner.

Humbert stopped calling the power that seemed to be coming from inside him, and I almost fell over with the sudden cesation of resistance.  Once the power was not in conflict with anything it turned a glossy soap bubble rainbow shield for a moment then faded.  The Wildflower stayed a light saber for a few more minutes before shimering back into the sword it was when resting.  For an instant I thought it felt amusement at my bewilderment but then the conection was gone and I felt oddly empty again.

"It is your magic.  All you need to do is call it." Humbert rumbled.

It came to me in a flash that no one with there own inner magic could truly understand what it was I was doing.  They could see me calling the powers but that they were not filtered through me - they were the raw power bent to my will, imagination or feelings.  I blinked then sat down suddenly very tired. 

I was distantly aware of a small tornado close by and Debbie fighting a group of the dwarves, then she landed and got a small ovation.  I would have joined in but I felt oddly out of touch with things at this moment.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on March 31, 2008, 11:26:35 PM
"It came to me in a flash that no one with their own inner magic could truly understand what it was I was doing.  They could see me calling the powers but that they were not filtered through me - they were the raw power bent to my will, imagination or feelings.  I blinked then sat down suddenly very tired. 

I was distantly aware of a small tornado close by and Debbie fighting a group of the dwarves, then she landed and got a small ovation.  I would have joined in but I felt oddly out of touch with things at this moment." quote Kristine

No time for the weary.  Debbie was on steroids or something, Humbert was still laughing at me, and a bunch of little green men pulled their swords and made a huge circle around me.  Debbie had a strange smile on her face before yelling, "More training time!"  Immediately they were all on me.  I scrambled to my feet and decided I'd keep the thinking process  for later. 

This time the Wildflower sang into lightsword form with a whosh of energy that tossed me backwards through the green men towards a stone embankment.  It sent a few of them laughing into the background, but Debbie and her "tutor" had lofted and were attacking from overhead, Humbert was coming on head first and the greenmen were filling up any extra space.  For once though, I didn't feel like I was behind the game, not this time.

I opened myself to the energy filling me and directed it to my will.  The lightsaber sang violet and I disappeared, fading into the air.  It was for-real this time, no footprints in the sand, no physical me hidden by light twisting.  I laughed as I re-materialized behind the hoard.  I leaped into the air, sending my feet into Herbert's hindside where he was propelled directly into the rock with a shattering sound that would have broken any normal person's skull open.  It didn't of course, the man was unstoppable.  Too bad he wasn't willing to fight with us. 

At the same time, I swung the light saber, turning it back into it's plastic toy form and swiped a blow at Debbie's delightful rear end.  She turned and shot me a look of anger, then realized what I had accomplished and she bowed to me from her point up in the air.  She only bobbled a little.

"Humbert, I want floor plans to that Fortress.  I think it's time the Emperor and Cloudicus Gassius met their end."  We settled in a circle and I turned the hard dirt at our feet into soft sand with a wave of the Wildflower--yellow.  I wondered what I could turn Cloudicus into, but maybe it would be better if I headed for the Emperor and let Debbie have it out with the flying fart cloud.  I also wondered how I was going to "free" all the magic sorts that were forced into spider warrior form. 

We had barely begun when another set of leather clad warriors showed up.  The first did a summary appraisal of who was who and noticed the Wildflower still in my hand.  Their leader a tall, dark haired woman approached and bowed on one knee. 

"Holder of the Wildflower, your rainbow alert from the village has notified all of your supporters in the kingdom.  Your warriors await your command at the boundaries of this kingdom.  At your word they will attack."

"How many strong?"  I asked and tried to look unimpressed by their timely appearance.

"Seven legions of 100 warriors each.  A quarter are calvary, one quarter have human weapons of machine guns, rifles, grenades etc, one quarter archers, and one quarter simple warriors with axes, clubs, knives, and swords.  We have no magi--as they were all impressed into service of the Emporer.  If you can release them from the Emperor's control they will join in the attack.  However we have received word that the Emperor's forces have retreated to the area surrounding his fortress.  The Emporer will be prepared for your attack."

I looked at Debbie and grinned.  Things were definitely looking up.  I waved the Wildflower (orange) this time and a feast was spread out before us.  Geez, I was hungry.  I checked the sun, if Humbert was correct and Andre's execution would be set for sundown, we had at least half an hour to eat before we started.  Plenty of time to coordinate an attack plan based on the floor plans Humbert had supplied.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 01, 2008, 01:26:02 AM
Dark prisons were a universal constant.

Of all the worlds he'd been to, of all the universes he'd visited, of all the kingdoms that had condemned him for various reasons, they had all been extremely dark prisons. In general they had also been unsanitary, uncomfortable, and the guards had always eaten his designated last meal (usually slop anyway).

This wasn't like the other prisons Andre had been in.

As a matter of fact, it was downright nice.

The Emperor himself sat across from Andre, at the end of a long table, an almost pleased expression on the sovreign's face. He calmly sipped a glass of wine that had been waiting for almost a hundred years for this moment. Andre had his own glass of wine and a meal consisting of the finest food in the empire. Despite the fact that he was desperately hungry, and the Emperor was unlikely to poison him when a public execution was more showy, he still refused to eat. Just being in the presence of the other man was enough to make him ill. He drank the wine though, maybe death wouldn't be so bad if he could somehow manage to be incredibly drunk on the way up the gallows.

Andre had no fantastical ideas about living through this. Because out of all those who had imprisoned him, none but the man across from him truly had the power to end him.

"So," He said after a long while of staring at the man across from him, "You look smug."

"I'm just pondering your complete and total defeat," The Emperor said with glee, "A century, Andre, a century we have been at this game. Surely you tire of it as I do?"

Andre shrugged nonchalantly, "I'll admit I was getting tired of the same old mind games...although honestly I planned on it ending differently. It's the funniest thing, in my version: you die, I live to get the girl, and happily ever after, that kind of thing."

The Emperor did something unexpected: he laughed. A truly jovial laugh from the most sadistic man in seven worlds send shivers down Andre's spine, and left him dumbfounded for a moment. When the laughs settled down the Emperor kept smiling, "Oh yes, dear Yamila...I sometimes made the mistake of considering you a driven genius, when really you are just a love-sick fool, ammusing but non-threatening." He leaned further onto the table, the vicious smile never leaving, "Andre, did you honestly believe that after a century as my consort she would still want a worthless vagabond like you? She was in rags, now she's in silks and lace. As a criminal she never had the freedom she has as a member of my court. And...as soon as she gives me my heir, she will be given a place of honor, and her own land." The smile widened, "What? You didn't know?"

Andre sat there, hazel eyes widened in shock at what he was hearing. Surely it couldn't be coming from Yamila...This was a trick, a way to gain a complete defeat. While it was true she hadn't dressed in the best clothes, they had more freedom than anyone.

And her being pregnant...that had to be a lie. She would have faught any such attempt. "No," He said with finality, he couldn't allow himself to be sucked into the lie, "I want to hear it from her."

"I expected such denial - Reza! Bring her out."

Reza entered the room...and following her was Yamila. The two women looked very much alike. With light chocolate skin and dark hair. Yamila's face was softer, her golden eyes looking less likely to snog or stab you without a moment's notice than Reza's. Also, where Reza was dressed in sharp, skintight leathers, Yamila had the most beautiful Chinese-style silks he had ever seen, all red and orange colors adorned with a pheonix and dragon. She looked regal. "Andre..." she said, the slightest shock on her voice, the recognition on her face made his heart flitter.

It was crushed again moments later when she turned to the Emperor and said, "You said I didn't have to see him."

The Emperor shrugged, "I'll make it up to you later."

"Yamila," Andre lost control and threw himself up from his seat, it should have been a hint when nobody made a move to stop him. He walked up to her and stopped just short of touching her, "Yamila..."

"Don't," She said harshly as she shrank away from his touch. "Just...don't...I have so much with him, more than I ever had. More than I ever dreamed of."

Her words were like a vice on his heart, "Are you happy?" he asked, staring at her under his hat.

With a tight voice, she responded, "...Yes. I am happy."

Andre forced a smile, even though he felt more like crying. Everything he'd lived for, everything he'd sacrificed. He'd relinquished raising their daughter, almost destroyed himself learning spells that should have taken thousands of years, learned dozens of languages, stolen the Wildflower...

...and she was happy with his mortal enemy. "Well then," in barely above a whisper he added, "I'm glad..." He flicked his hat down over his eyes, a nervous attempt to cover his absolute desire to die right then, "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have a date with the angel of death, you know, now that I'm single again and everything..."

Yamila bit her lip before bringing a hand up to his face, "I never stopped loving you. But you know how it is as well as anybody, when you grow up a thief it is with a mentality that you will risk, and sacrifice, everything for a better life," her hand briefly touched her stomach, "A child of my bloodline will one day rule this world. That, Andre, is a better life. I'm so sorry that your chosen path has led you here." Her hand reached behind his head and pulled him close, he didn't have the strength to fight her. She laid a kiss on his hat and he inhaled her scent for the last time.

Nothing else was said before the guards came to escort him to a fate that no longer mattered to him.

(AN: I didn't know what happened with the third person v. first person thing, but I just really wanted to write this. Sorry.)
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 02, 2008, 04:41:04 PM
Love it, myself   :D

As Andre left the room under escort, he passed Yamila.  He wished otherwise and his anger seethed, but he couldn't deny his need to connect with her and he tipped his head for one last gaze beneath his hat.  Their eyes connected.

As his guards pulled him towards the door, Yamila cried out and almost collapsed--her hands on her belly.  Reza was beside her instantly, her own hand on Yamila's stomach confirming the contraction.  "She is in labor.  I think she may have been for sometime.  The contraction is strong and the baby rides low."

"Perfect timing, Yamila, but there was no reason to keep the good news a secret.  Reza call the healer to attend to my future heir.  Guards, you may continue your mission."    The Emperor lifted his glass to Andre with a parting, "So now the plan is complete.  Your death, Andre, will simply be an easily overlooked footnote in history.  Goodby Andre, I'll make sure your daughter joins you shortly."

Andre struggled against his guards, but gave up quickly, despondent.  What was the point? Yamila didn't love him, the ruby bracelet on his wrist left him useless, and the gallows waited below.  He could only hope that Debyone had the good sense to leave this world immediately and seek safe harbor.   

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 03, 2008, 12:10:09 AM
All the nobles in all of Wildfire had gathered to watch Andre die, it seemed.

Quote
Andre struggled against his guards, but gave up quickly, despondent.  What was the point? Yamila didn't love him, the ruby bracelet on his wrist left him useless, and the gallows waited below.  He could only hope that Debyone had the good sense to leave this world immediately and seek safe harbor.

Debyone, as it turns out, did not have the good sense to leave Wildfire for a backwater world.

Her surrogate parents had insisted she learn certain spells to conceal her appearence and to bend the air around herself so as to appear invisible. While generally effective in areas that were not heavily populated, the central execution grounds were packed, and guards or any spiders would notice her moving through the crowd. So she'd been forced to settle with an appearence altering spell. They clung to the skin and were less likely to give her away.

She felt uncomfortable for various reasons. The execution grounds were not filled with soldiers as Joey and the small army's leaders had anticipated. It was filled with the highest nobles of the Emperor's court. Open slaughter was not an option, most of the nobles were good people who had been appointed to their position because they would be popular with the people. A lot of them were honest, hardworking and fair. Debbie knew that the 'hack and slash' plan that Joey had would no longer fit.

As she worked he way through the crowd she saw a sight that made her heart ache. There was a small child with two lower ranking nobles, she sat in the dirt, unable to see the site that was about to unfold, and hence she was happy to be out with her parents. Debbie remembered a childhood of outings just like this. As in, outings that she didn't understand until she got a little taller. Of course, as a child she had had many nice outings with her parents that didn't include someone's destruction.

As a matter of fact, there was a time, long ago when she'd been in a field playing with her older brothers. All of them were dead now, but back then they'd been alive and to her five-year old eyes, fun to play with. Andre and Yamila were still the only parents she'd known. They had sauntered behind the rest of the family, both as relaxed as she had ever seen them. Debbie remembered falling, she hadn't skinned her knee, but it had suprised her. To a child all you need is to be suprised. She started crying. Before she'd known it Andre had been at her side, first making sure if she was all right, then cheering her up. Debbie smiled at the memory, and immediatly winced at the others it conjuered.

Not too long after that they all left...

And the only one she had seen since then was Andre.

In her time as a lower noble's changling she had come to mourn her taken mother, and resent her brothers' choices.

But Andre, she had come to hate him. It spawned sometime in her teenage years, blaming him and his games for all the evil that had befallen her. She hated him for the fact that he had not loved her enough to stay behind. She hated him even though her new father was kind, she wanted the old one that had jumped to her side to make sure she wasn't hurt. Debbie met him for the first time when she was thirty and her noble family had...retired in the same way as her first. They were both locked in the same prison cell, and had argued over the most enterprising way to escape. Once they'd managed to escape she realized who she was with, and had debated between hugging and killing him. After that they'd met up several times over the years to relieve people of prized possessions that neither could get to by themselves. Dangerous and professional attempts at father-daughter bonding.

And now, she stood there, getting ready to kick-start a risky mission to save a man who was little more than a sperm-doner and aquaintance to her. Or at least that's what she'd been telling herself for years.

Suddenly trumpets blared and guards brought him out into the crowd. The bubbly chatter around her ceased as they brought him across the courtyard and up the gallows steps. Her heard lurched painfully as they read off the charges and lowered the noose.

If this plan didn't work. He would die.

The man who cheered her when she fell would die.

It would be her fault if she messed up.

Could she live with that?

Perhaps it was best not to mess up.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 05, 2008, 03:50:29 PM
I shimmered in next to Debbie, masked invisibily, and blew in her ear.  She wisked her hand past her hair, as if to shoo away a fly.  It took three tries before she figured out it was me.  It was good she did because she looked like she was going to knock the big oaf next to her out, thinking it was him.

"Joey?" she whispered.

"None other.  Okay so the nobles here puts a lot of stuff on hold.  I'm having the army hold back in the forest, but all those spider soldiers are getting antsy out there.  I think they know something is up.   Speaking of up, Humbert's figured out how to get me into the women's quarters and then it's a short walk to the Emperor's balcony.  I'll give you a sign when I'm ready.  Listen Debbie, if I'm late---you can't go it alone, you got that?  Andre doesn't need to see his daughter killed just before he buys it.  I don't know him well and I know you two have 'issues' but he doesn't want you to die.  So let's work as a team this time, okay?  The people here are saying that the Emperor will be giving a speech first from the balcony and Cloudicus Gassious is going to be on the gallows to make sure no one tries anything.  Hold steady until I'm in place and give the signal, right?"

She grudgingly nodded, knowing a coordinated attack was the only way this was going to work, but it would be hell for her in the meantime.  Debbie's personality didn't seem to include an attribute for team sports or patience.  I gave her an invisible hug, that apparently worked because she smiled back at me.

I quickly shimmered out of the fortress and around to the back of the huge walls.   Debbie's tutor was waiting for me.  Just as Humbert had said, there was a lavoratory that stuck out over the moat from the top floor.  Yuck, this was not going to be fun. I had tried but the Wildflower apparently preferred that I keep my feet on the ground, flying wasn't one of my new talents.  I materialized and he nodded, grabbed my hand, and we started rising slowly.  I'd also been unable to make myself and another go invisible.   Luckily all the spiders were focused on the edge of the forest.  They knew something was out there, but they must have been ordered to stay near and guard the fortress.

We rose straight up to the jutting overhang.  I listened for noise overhead; there was none.  Then I took out the Wildfire and in cutting mode made four swipes and the wood seating with the round hole dropped, falling down into the mote below. The splash it made wasn't noticed by any of the nearby spiders.   A couple green men quickly pulled it onto the bank and hid it beneath a handy nearby bush.  They gave me a thumbs up and Debbie's tutor gave me a push before he dropped back down to the ground, again un-noticed.  I climbed and quickly crouched over the opening on all fours, the Wildflower back in its scabboard.  I was in a small bathroom about the size of a closet.  The wood door was open a crack. 

From the other side came a woman's scream, followed by a lot of moans, quickly followed by a lot of panting.  Hell, what was I walking in on?  I quietly climbed from my perch and shifted position for a better view.  A woman was on a bed, my healer (remember the mental case fan of the Emperor?) was working with her.  Another woman's back was to me.  She wore a short bronze colored leather jacket and her lower half was damn right stunning in super tight black jeans.  Not much was left to the imagination.  The woman had a memorable hindside and her slim, but muscled thighs only added to the attraction.  From the back, her exposed neck was ebony smooth and her hair was cropped short and tight.  She wore strangly feminine, large, round gold earrings.  Yep, she was amazing, but she was also our lesser niminesis, Reza.  Great.  Now what? 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 06, 2008, 08:12:03 AM
Quote
She wore strangly feminine, large, round gold earrings.  Yep, she was amazing, but she was also our lesser niminesis, Reza.  Great.  Now what?

I stood there for a moment pondering what to do. As heroic as it would be to deliver a baby while simultaniously overthrowing a cruel patriarch and saving my friend's father I didn't want to deal with Reza.

"Mr. Gardner," She said, and I did not almost jump out of my skin, and I did not scream like a little girl. "Mr. Gardner," She said a little harsher, "Either enter or leave, but you are making a stressful situation worse for this woman, she thinks you might be a spy or an assassin."

As much as I would have liked to make Reza think twice about that little statement, I didn't feel the need to make the woman giving birth worry about me any more than she already was, "I'm no threat to this lady."

"Then who are you a threat to?" Reza said without even looking at me.

"The same person I've always been a threat to, the Emperor."

Reza laughed and looked back at me, "You are far from a threat to him. Trust me. However, if you insist on this foolish path, I will not stop you. Either you will bring about his fall, or he will bring about yours and the power of the Wildflower can wait for a more worthy man. Either way I could care less."

I blinked, "Why?"

Reza shrugged, "Because I win either way, and I lose either way. Therefore it does not matter."

I kept watch of her as I passed to the other end of the room, just in case. As a result I got a good look at the woman giving birth. She looked very much like Reza. They had to have been sisters. But what struck me more was the birthing woman's similarity to Debbie. They had the same nose, same eye-shape, same face-shape.

I figured it out just as I walked through the door. I pondered saying something, but decided against it. I couldn't rescue her right then, if only because it would cause more problems than it solved. I needed to focus on making sure Andre didn't hang, first and foremost.

The best way to do that was to take the Emperor out the equasion.

I followed Humbert's directions to a fault the rest of the way up to the Emperor's balcony. I didn't run into trouble, which was amazing considering how the rest of my week has gone.

The farther up I got the more decorated everything became, a sure sign that I was going in the right direction. As I reached the top of a final flight of steps I prepared myself for what lay beyond. The Emperor was a serious force. If he had enslaved and imprisoned all those worlds he had to have been a great magic power in his own right. What had happened to the last bearer of the Wildflower that caused the Emperor to gain possession of it?

I sighed, I had never been a man of faith, or belief of any kind. It was something I was going to put aside as long as possible. But all that aside, I knew my place in all of this. I knew that I had to go through that door, otherwise Debbie would have to watch Andre die, or she would become impatient and react out of anger, then die herself. All those soldiers who finally thought they would overthrow an evil empire would retreat as yet another chance cowered away. Earth would fall to the empire, and even if it somehow stayed free the whole idea that magic existed for a fact would tear the civilization apart.

My resolve refilled with thoughts of those depending on me, and I kicked my way through the door like a cop. I was about to add some bravado laden challenge to the grand entrance when I stopped in my tracks.

The Emperor stood before me, with a harsh, cruel smile on his face. I suddenly became overwhelmed with the feeling that even if I had a physical one-up on the man, he had this battle won mentally long before this even began. I saw why.

At his feet Debbie was slumped to her knees, defeated by some kind of a binding spell. Weakly she looked up at me, defiance burned in her eyes, even as her body remained defeated.

"I have an army of mages, young Wild-Bound," He said musically, "And I expected such a foolish rescue attempt. Did you honestly think I wouldn't catch her?"

Anger flowed through me, a child's anger at having been caught in the act, energy flowed through my hand to the Wildflower. Faster than I could register, he whipped out a beautiful Chinese sword (a less worn-down twin of the one Andre had used) and placed it to Debbie's neck, "I worn you, you are powerful, but I am older, and I could slice her throat even in the freak chance you managed to slay me. Sheathe your sword, we need not be enemies."

As much as I hated to admit it, he had me by the short ones. I couldn't bring myself to be responsible for Debbie's death. I sheathed the Wildflower.

"There," He said as though speaking to an animal he was training, "Now we can be civil." The Emperor sheathed his sword and gently guided Debbie to her feet, didn't jerk her up by her hair like most villains. He must have seen the look in my eyes, because he sighed, "Oh...I understand. It's the girl isn't it? Why you're doing all of this? While I'll admit that I had originally intended to kill her in front of Andre as a parting gift if she would be better served keeping you happy then I'll be happy to let her live. You need just say so. No sex though. That's my one condition."

I wavered a little. We were in a bad position, perhaps it was best to just go along with it, "It isn't just her. I came for Andre too."

He gave a small laugh that seemed fake, "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about Andre. He dies today. You, however, can limit the casualties."

The offer seemed tempting. I would be saving the lives of Debbie and the men standing out ready to attack the Imperial Palace. I let myself be tempted, just a little more, "And what of my homeworld? Earth? Will you refuse to invade it and absorb it into the Empire if I give you my assistance."

Debbie struggled against her captor and the binding spell, "No! Joey!" The spell tightened and she broke off.

The Emperor smiled warmly, "I would be perfectly willing to spare your world, again, if you ever need anything from me to make your stay more enjoyable all you need is to ask." Great, now he was giving me the Hotel manager sell, right before dropping back to 'evil emperor'. "There is, however, one catch."

"Isn't there always?"

"I want proof of your loyalty." He motioned out onto the balcony that the room connected to. Not believing myself lucky enough for him to turn his back to me, I went ahead and walked out to survey the sight before me.

Andre stood atop the gallows, the noose draped over his neck and tightened like a demented choker necklace. His hands were bound behind him, his ankles tied together. But his head was held straight, there was no fear on his face, just a sad, knowing smile. The man was smiling with a noose on his neck. I was a little imprssed. Debbie wasn't impressed so much as crying hysterically. My heart twisted a little, a part of me knew what was coming.

The Emperor knew I knew, and a cruel smile worked it's way across his features, "I want you, Joey Gardner, to be the executioner for this special event." His hand tightened around Debbie, a silent reminder of all I stood to lose and all I stood to gain by one simple action.

~She-Wolf
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 06, 2008, 06:39:11 PM
Great.

Just great.

“And if I don’t?”

Yeah, like I didn’t already know.

“Andre will die anyway. I will slaughter the girl, travel directly to your world not only to enslave, but to  completely annihilate it, as you watch on. Millions more will die, and it will all be your responsibility; Joey Gardner.

He paused before offering up an afterthought:

“And then I will kill you.”

“Thought so…” I mumbled.

That little twisting feeling in my heart turned into a desperate contortion. There had to be a way out of this.

“There’s no way out of this, boy.” The Emperor intoned, as if he had read my mind.

Could he read my mind? I hoped not. Debbie had stopped crying by now, her eyes filled with rage, whilst the Emperor stood there with a smug look on his face. All I could do was stand there in silence. Well it was safe to say that this situation both sucked and and blew; did I kill Andre? Or did I destroy the world as we know it… by default?
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 07, 2008, 04:41:08 AM
Quote
Well it was safe to say that this situation both sucked and and blew; did I kill Andre? Or did I destroy the world as we know it… by default?

I'll warn you ahead of time, throughout this entire disaster, I never came up with a classic, honest to God plan.

I was biting my lip so hard it hurt.

Reasonably, it made no sense to start a war I couldn't win. It had been foolish for me to even go back to the Imperial Palace. I was simple minded to think that just because I had some shiny new talents I could stand up to a man several times my age, with several times my attack force, and several times my IQ. What was I thinking? Now I was trapped, without having accomplished anything.

"Joey," Debbie's soft voice cut through my conflicted thoughts.

I looked at her eyes, they were wet, but there was a strength behind them, "Do what you have to do Joey."

I don't know what exactly she meant by that. Was she telling me to sacrifice her for Andre? Or was she telling me to do what would be best for everyone, wich included offing Andre?

I took a deep breath. "Alright...your honor," Because I refused to call him 'highness', "I'll do it."

I don't know whether Debbie was relieved or crushed by my announcement, it was hard to tell as she sank to her knees and burried her face against the balcony railing. Her shoulders shook in silent sobs.

The Emperor seemed pleased that I had taken this path, "Good boy...Now get down there."

I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. The Emperor snapped a finger, and before I could register what was happening white energy swirled around me. Spindles of energy enveloped me and lifted me above the balcony. I gulped. It was quite a way up. Apparently the shining entrance of floating energy caught the attention of the nobles gathered below. The crowed began a raucus cheer and chanted in a language I didn't know. I was a hero to them, decending to smite the enemy of the Empire. Not one of them seemed to recognize that the enemy of the Empire was the Emperor.

The shining energy carried me down to the gallows, my boots touched down on the wood with a dull click. Everyone in the audience was staring at me. Andre was staring at me. I couldn't meet his eyes. Premptive guilt was already eating a whole in my chest.

The Emperor stood up and gave his speech. Words in a language I didn't understand, both melodical and gutteral at the same time. They were entrancing, beautifully weaved together, he must have had the audience in the palm of his hands.

Aside from the Living Cloud, and a couple of guards, Andre and myself were alone on the gallows. Executioner and executionee. About halfway through the speech, "So...how about those Yankees?"

I tried to register what I'd just heard, I glanced quickly at Andre, the sight of the noose quickly made me look away again.

"Jesus, kid, it's just a length of rope," He whispered, as if it was no big deal. As if I was being silly about the whole thing.

I was a little confused, "Um...Aren't you going to die as soon as this is over?"

"Eh," He replied, "Everyone dies. I've had a good life, I guess. I've survived longer than most people of my upstanding profession. Outlived my sons, even." There was the slightest trace of pain in his voice.

I felt my own eyes watering, it couldn't have looked good, the executioner crying during the execution, "I'm sorry, he has Debbie. I had no choice."

Andre nodded, his smile widening a little, "You did the right thing. Although, get her out of here as soon as possible, there's too much bad blood between the Fearless Leader and myself for him to let her live for long."

The Emperor's speech was wrapping up, my heart was smashing around in my rib-cage. "Guess this is it, huh?"

He clicked his tongue, as if bored, "Yep. Nice knowing you." It was a formality, we hadn't exactly been fond of each other. Then honestly, "Good luck."

"You too." I don't know what I was wishing him 'good luck' for, his luck had pretty much just run out. Maybe I was wishing him luck on getting to heaven or wherever it was these people believed they were going. Or maybe it was a formality.

The Emperor finished his speech. The silence that fell after the applause, and the implication of it, was like having knives thrust in my ears. I swallowed and made my way to the lever. My mind involontarily started going over all of the things I'd seen on the History Channel about hanging's and executions. As my hands slid over the wood of the lever I remembered that most human necks traditionally didn't break. Andre could hang there, strangling, and it would be my fault.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andre take a deep breath, and close his eyes. At peace.

Could I live with myself for that?

I sighed, and let my hands slide off of the lever. I couldn't do this to him. No matter how much of a jackass he was...

"Is there something wrong?" The Emperor's silky voice whispered in my ear. More magic.

"This is cruel..." I whispered back and assumed he could hear me. "I have a faster alternative."

I told him my faster alternative.

"...I'll think about it." He said in my ear, and a pop of energy signaled an end to the connection.

About a minute later I got his reply. The Emperor stood up for an announcement to the confused nobles. "Honorable nobles, due to the unwavering honor of the Wild Bound, this shall no longer be a hanging. But a beheading by the Wildflower itself!"

Oh God...what had I gotten myself into?
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 07, 2008, 03:24:29 PM
There was a loud cheer from the gathered masses as The Emperor signalled to a couple of spider-men guards before sitting back down. He turned to look at me with a contented smile and all I did was stand there like the gormless fool I was. It was another one of those times when I hadn’t throught this plan through entirely. There was no closing my eyes for the gory-bits this time. This time it wasn’t a movie, I was actually going to cut off somebody’s head. Andre’s head. I wasn’t sure I had it in me.

By now Spider-thug one and two had made there way up to the stage. The first went over to Andre, removed the noose from his neck and practically dragged the condemned man front and centre, past me to where the second Spider-goon had set up a block. Andre was still wearing that damned hat, and was he still smiling? Yeah; he was definitely crazy… but brave with it.   

“Looks like you really are born to be wild huh kid?” he jibed as I withdrew the Wildflower, my hands were starting to sweat.

“Gonna get y’chance to off me with the sword after all.”

I had no choice; I needed to execute Andre to save Earth.

Need.

And it was at that moment I realised that I; Joey Gardner, am a complete idiot.

How could I have been so stupid as to forget? More than an idiot; I was the Wild-bound! Connected to this plain of existence. What was it Andre had said back in the helicopter? “Circumstances will go your way, things that are unlikely, and a few that seem impossible might happen if you need them to bad enough”. It was the most important part of my legacy, and it had only occurred to me now.

“I should be so lucky” I jibed back as I walked closer to the kneeling man; his head on the block.

I was feeling positive for the first time since I arrived at the fortress. For the first time I had the makings of a plan.

Debbie had told me to do what I had to do, when really I should have focussed on what I needed to do. And what I needed was to stop The Emperor, defeat him and liberate worlds. But I needed Andre and Debbie for that. We had to go.

We needed to escape

All three of us. Alive.

With that in mind I raised the Wildfire high above my head for everyone to see and focussed on my connection and our needs.

I waited.

And waited…
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 07, 2008, 06:52:38 PM
"I waited.   
And waited."

Andre's hands were positioned on the block, his head in the center.  The ruby bracelet that locked his power was on his left wrist.  Andre was right handed. 

I heard Debbie scream as I pulled the Wildflower down and it bit into the wood block to the left of Andre's head, severing his hand from the wrist.  The magic ruby bracelet locking Andre's power slipped to the ground along with Andre's left hand and I watched where the bracelet fell.  I'd need that later.  Andre screamed but the Wildflower had cauterized the wound and he shimmered into none existance.  I prayed he was re-materializing on the balcony where Debbie and the Emperor stood.

A simple twist of the Wildflower and I swung it to my right without looking and sliced Cloudicus horizontally in half.  For good measure, I followed up with a smooth counter slice of the Wildflower again and brought it down through the mage from the crown of his head through his smoking, stinky middle.  "How's that for slice and dice?"  No smoke, no movement, no more Cloudicus.  That was just a little bit too convenient, but once in awhile the Gods must smile and let's face it, there was nothing I needed more than Cloudicus to be permanent history. 

I reached down and scooped up the ruby bracelet--just the right size for the Emperor, who shortly would have no clothes--okay I obviously meant power.  The court yard was a mass of Nobels in movement, but going no where fast.  They'd be safer if they stayed where they were--but so be it, whatever happened at this point happened.  I'd think about the consequences of my soul later.  I raised the Wildflower and the rainbow of lights burst out heavenwards--the sign of attack for the forces at the forest's edge.  We needed the army to attack now.  If Andre was successful, the mind binding would be broken.... if not, we still needed to end this today.  I couldn't shimmer to the balcony and i needed to get there to add the power of the Wildflower to the attack AND I needed to make sure the Debbie was still alive. 
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 07, 2008, 09:03:35 PM
Andre's left hand was gone.

Yet still it seemed young Gardner had leveled the playing field. It only took Andre a few moments to shake the shock of losing a limb to the back of his mind. Literally. He used his internal magic to push the searing pain and shock to some dark, unused corner of his mind. At the same time he repressed the shock of survival. He couldn't leave those things there for too long; it would tear his subconcious apart if left there.

But this wasn't going to take that long.

The Wildflower created a current of energy under his feet, carrying him to the balcony. In the mere moments it took for him to get up there he summoned his sword. It appeared in his right hand in a flash of crimson. He didn't give the Emperor time to register his presence there. Andre lunged and quickly cleared the short distance between them.

The Emperor brought up his hand, and within seconds a twin of Andre's own sword blocked his strike in a flurry of red and white sparks.

The Emperor smiled at him, Andre knew, as satisfying as an execution was, winning a battle against him would secure victory in the Emperor's mind. As far as he was concerned the risk was worth it. They exchanged blow for blow, each meant to kill.

Andre received a slice at his head with a twist of his neck to carry vitals out of reach, before bringing his blade up to slice at the Emperor's stomach. The Emperor's sword darted in front of Andre's, deflecting the blow. More sparks of energy dispersed into the air. He swung the sword in a downward arch. With a parry Andre burried the other sword in the marble of the balcony. Andre let a little bit of his energy wash through his body, causing a familiar warmth to spread through his limbs. Twisting his body in an acrobatic display he sent a roundhouse kick flying at the Emperor's head...

...And the Emperor caught it in his hand, endowed with defensive energy to counter the murderous. Quickly, though, the desire of the energy in the hand became that of offense. With superhuman strength it tightened on Andre's ankle.

Oh crap.

Andre screamed as the Emperor jerked and dislocated his right ankle. Alarm flared through him and he let a burst of emergency energy carry him to the other end of the balcony. Hopefully out of the Emperor's reach.

He was wrong.

Within moments the Emperor followed, suddenly the one on offense. Andre tripped on his useless limb, and just barely stopped a blow that would have sent his head flying, or at very least turned him into a Pez Dispenser. In a desperate attempt he risked his one good leg to send the Emperor back. This time the kick paid off, it burried itself in the Emperor's solar plexis, and the stored energy in it spilling out it pushed the other man back, flying into the opposite railing of the balcony. The landing was hard enough so that a little bit of the marble cracked, and it took the Emperor a little bit longer than usual to get back to his feet.

In the break-time, Andre managed to scramble to his feet, and took the time to look for Debyone.

She was in the room that connected to the balcony, binding a long cut on her chest and stomach with some of the Emperor's expensive silks. She had also somehow managed to work her way through the binding spell.

Despite the situation, Andre let a little bit of fatherly pride flow through him. His baby was already unraveling S-Class binding spells.

He turned his attention back to the Emperor, who was staggering to his feet, "Andre, why do you fight? Don't you see, all you have fought for is lost to you. Your arm and leg are useless."

Andre pondered it for a moment, before shrugging and saying, "Because I'm alive when I know I should be dead, I suppose. I can't help but shake the feeling that stopping you is supposed to be my Good Deed, old dad always said every thief needs at least one of those before they die..." He motioned to Debyone, "As a matter of fact, I suppose even if I don't kill you, if she lives then I consider my Good Deed complete."

The Emperor gave a wolfish smile, "You are a fool. Do you really think that after all the evil you have done you will be allowed to end on any sort of a spiritual high point?"

Andre shook his head, "Karma doesn't work that way. At any point we have the chance to start atoning for the things we've done."

"If I remember correctly, Andre. You failed the last time you attempted something like this. Four boys died, very young for mages of their power, in their fourties. It seems as though that was an act of punishment for your karma."

An old familiar pain began to work its way into Andre's chest. An old fear crept into his mind.

The Emperor was touching on something he'd always feared. That his wife, and his sons were all taken from him as punishment for his sins.

And here he was, in a position to lose his daughter, his only remaining child, the very same way. Fear as old as time clutched him as images flashed through is mind. Each one of his children, all of them mangled at the hands of his greatest enemy.

He knew he couldn't live with himself if that happened.

Andre knew the only way to protect Debyone was to kill the man who threatened her.

Even at the cost of his own life.

Andre lifted his sword above his head, using as a conduit for the energy inside his body to spill out and gather strength from the world around him. A scarlet column of energy enveloped him body and soul as every last bit of his magic swelled out of him.

The Emperor rose to his feet, and lifted his own sword to the heavens. White energy gathered around him matching Andre's in size and intensity.

Andre couldn't help but ponder how the people of earth had the silliest tendency to believe that the ones wearing white were the good guys.

He stood there, letting his intent to kill flow over the other man, and accepting the Emperor's intent in turn.

Like he'd told Gardner, he'd lived a good life. He was ready, and would die happily as long as Debyone could be saved.

A century's worth of mind-games and combat...It ended here. Whoever was left standing when the credits rolled, kudos to them.

Andre released his charged up energy just as the Emperor released his. It was like the force of tidal waves colliding. A beautiful locking of explosive, raw power that sent waves of concussive blast echoeing through the courtyard causing damage to the building in some places. Light that outshone the clouded sun filled the courtyard, exposing the battle between the Spider Guard and invading forces, between Gardner and the Living Cloud (oh boy, was he in over his head). Wind seemed to blow both towards and away from the battle of wills and power.

Andre let out a wordless scream. The Emperor followed suit. The force of maintaining such high levels was wearing down on both of them. It was a question of who would give out first.

Suddenly, the marble beneath their feet began to shatter and break under the pressure of their battle. They both held their connection to the magic of the world around them as long as they could; even as they began to plummet to the ground below, even as the balcony twisted as it fell and they felt themselves seperate from the marble as they fell. Everything they had so focused on their one destructive spell that neither bothered with any sort of levitation.

Their concentration never wavered.

It was the kind of battle that, long ago, their mutual teacher had told them made mere mages into the great sages of legend.

Sometime during the fall, the mass of energy became too large for either to hold up, it needed to go somewhere.

So the mass of energy pushed its way into the opposing force, fusing together. It collapsed under its own weight...

...and exploded outward in a way that no one in the courtyard should have survived, much less either of the men at its center.

(AN: Sorry, got a little carried away. I just really wanted to write this battle.)
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 08, 2008, 11:15:48 PM
...and exploded outward in a way that no one in the courtyard should have survived, much less either of the men at its center.

Joey stood fixated as Flying Cloud's drawn and quartered body simply vanished, through a portal of some sort that immediately closed.  "Damn, I'm betting that isn't the last time I run into that floating fart cloud." 

The noise overhead drew his attention in time to see two great masses of magical energy interlocked, each struggling for control.  Joey looked desperately for Debbie, but he couldn't find her.  He needed to get up there fast and the Wildflower didn't allow him to loft upwards.  That left him with one option.  He did have wind power.  He grabbed the noose, dangling from its gallows, and with a running leap spun out towards the crowd and the rope gave him centrifugal force upwards in an arch.  He'd only have one chance at this.  He sent out a rush of wind power which added to the force and, if he timed the release right, should land him on the balcony. 

It worked, sort of.  When he got to the balcony, already under the stress of the magical forces, it collapsed under his added weight and Joey fell with it.  The Wildflower slowed time as Joey twisted about trying to keep from falling.  He had time to see Debbie on the safe side of the balcony doorway in the room beyond.  Behind her he saw Reza coming into the room with an infant wrapped in blankets.  He continued his endless slow spin to see Andre falling, the Emperor falling, and the deadly combustion of the magical forces falling.  Far below, he saw the terrified faces of the nobles and their families in the courtyard below.

He felt the wave created as the explosion began at the subatomic level.  He felt the magical energy forces as they raced to join the party.  It was like he was part of the explosion, part of the destruction, and the Wildflower surged--unwilling to let so many die senselessly.  COLD, impossibly cold power surged through him--a match for the heat of the explosion growing atom by atom.  The ice blue cold shot out from the Wildflower enveloping, encapsulating, and encasing the explosion. The magic energy conflagration feed the explosion outwards while the Wildflower's ice cold power surrounded it and matched forces shoving the explosion back in on itself and on the Emperor and Andre within. 

Time returned to its normal pace and Joey felt gravity pulling him down--rapidly and Joey realized he was half way to the ground.  He screamed out, "Crap!" and pointed the Wildflower downwards, willing wind to counter act the pull of gravity.  In slowing his own fall, he also slowed the blue ice encased explosion.  In a freak twist of light through the ice, Joey saw the frozen figures inside as the ball struck the ground below him and he watched it shatter into tiny fragments.  Giving up on protecting himself from the fall, Joey willed the power of the Wildflower out to contain the shards of ice that would have ripped through the nobles and their families.

Joey's wind had slowed his descent, but his body crumpled as it hit the ground and pain exploded through him.   Amazingly, he didn't lose consciousness.  Staring upwards he saw Debbie in the exposed balcony doorway.  She was looking upwards.  Joey's eyes followed hers. 

"Holy shit!"  Joey whispered, all he could manage, as he realized a body was coming down fast, a body with a hat and it was heading straight for Joey who was unable to move.  Through the unbelievable pain, he realized he still had the Wildflower in his hand.  He willed a cushion of air over himself.  Andre hit it and bounced, slowing his descent, and he landed in a broken clump next to Joey.  Together they bore their pain and stared heavenwards, wondering what miracle had saved them both.

Andre twisted his still hat covered head, "You cut my hand off, kid.  I ought a kill you for that."

"Just try it." Joey replied and weakly waved the Wildflower in self-defense. 

"Cloudicus' body parts disappeared through a portal.  Please tell me he isn't headed to Earth."

"Nah, he probably headed to the next world in.  One Emperor down, this world saved, but there are five worlds left, kid." 

Joey still didn't have the strength to turn his head.  The sky looked nice and he had a nice view of Debbie up there crying.  "Five, huh?  That's just super." 

He closed his eyes for a minute and when he opened them he was staring up at Humbert's beefy face looking down at him saying, "The Emperor's power has stopped.  The spider soldiers are once more themselves.  The battle is won."

"That's super, Humbert, heal me.  It freaking hurts everywhere."



Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 09, 2008, 12:35:05 AM
Quote
"That's super, Humbert, heal me.  It freaking hurts everywhere."

Sometime in between my left shoulder being pushed back into it’s socket, my right knee being relocated and the pain in my head went from feeling like a jumbo jet had been dropped on it to just an elephant dancing a merry jig; Debbie had shimmered from down from what was left of the fortress and was tending to Andre. Even through the pain, it was indescribably good to see Debbie and knowing she was ok. Unimaginable relief flooded through my body at the realisation that we were all alive… or maybe that was just the healing magics.

Humbert was surprisingly good at this healing gig and Debbie seemed to be doing just fine with her father. In. very little time at all; the pain had subsided enough for both Andre and I to sit up.

“You should rest master Gardner,” said Humbert “Your body is still weak, as is Andre’s.”

“I still can’t believe you cut off my hand boy!” replied Andre.

That’s right; I save his life, and all the ungrateful ass can do is complain about the little things.

“Can’t you just re-grow it or something?” I said, a smile crept onto my face. “Or maybe you could attach a nice hook? Andre the pirate!”

I received a vicious glare in return for my musings. Well, it looked like we’d saved the day… and a world, which is more than I usually did, so it’s safe to say I was feeling pretty proud of myself, but that only lasted for a while because Andre piped up with:

“So Debyone, which world should we travel to next?”

“Andre, no. Now you know me; I’m always up for some ass-kicking action and I enjoy liberating as much as the next planetary-enslaved mage, but you need to rest. It was a miracle you didn’t die.” was her reply.

Though neither had said it, the relief that that the other was alive and their love was more than apparent in their eyes. My own orbs of jelly only belied more questions. Questions of which I promptly voiced.

“Yeah what’s up with this liberating worlds thing? The Emperor’s dead… isn’t our job done?”

And then I heard a voice that made my balls try to crawl back up into my body.

“Not quite Mr Gardner. If I’m correct your work has only just begun.”

Reza!

Damn. Now where did she come from?
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on April 09, 2008, 06:01:08 AM

Damn. Now where did she come from?


She quirked a diffident little smile, "I told you Joey, I win either way" she said softly.  I realized my face must have been very easy to read as I was too tired to be cagey.  As if reading my mind she continued, "As I said before - You with the Wildflower are the emperor's equal on opposite ends of a spectrum.  You did not destroy him.  As you have little enough magic power of your own that you can use the Wildflower effectively - The Emperor has been... Enhanced... in his own way to make him almost entirely magic." she tilted her head to one side as if considering, and I realized she must be tired too as the expression told her honest surprise.  "You managed to sever his magical ties on this world when he released too much of himself and you encased the power.  The only way he could escape is to poke a hole within the energy orb and go through to another world." her brows drew together for an instant, "he would usually never have done that but for the fight with Andre.  He wouldn't have done that for a fight with any other mage either.  You were just the right group of people at the right time." 

I felt I should correct her on the part about 'enough magic' - I had NONE of my own and the people around here just didn't seem to get that.  I felt like my eyes were getting dusty and rubbed them, but that only seemed to grind it in deeper into the back of my eyeballs. Suddenly I felt very frustrated, "So where did he go?"

"Why, further in, of course."

"I can't believe you cut off my hand..." Andrea mused again looking at the stump at the end of his arm.

I didn't know what to say to that.  'It's not like you don't have another one', 'Oooppps',  'I was aiming for your stupid head and I missed' or 'It seemed like the right thing to do at the time'?  A hundred different things went through my head but all I managed was; "Sorry Andrea." I was sorry he had to loose his hand but glad he had kept his life so the apology didn't sound horrified, or abashed, just slightly regretful.

He looked up and for a moment I thought I saw sympathy for me, "S'all right I guess.  I was ready to loose my life so a hand is sort of a bargain."

I nodded oddly calmed until he followed the understanding statement with, "I just can't believe I was maimed by you."

I was about to say something about idiots who would have killed anybody in the vicinity of there little grudge match explosion when a woman walked in with a baby.

"Andrea?" she said looking at him with large doe eyes.

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: seradhe on April 09, 2008, 06:15:49 AM
(Gah, sorry to break the storyline all, just wanted to say I haven't forgotten this. Work decided that I had too much life and gave me psycho hours. Working on building the storyline so far into one lump document for those of you who want it. msg me, but no replies to this.. on with the story!)
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 09, 2008, 10:38:52 AM
Quote
"Andrea?" she said looking at him with large doe eyes.

Andre stared at her, dumbfounded, for a few moments. Yamila was more haggered looking than before. Her dark hair was plastered to her face with sweat. The silks she had on were plain compared to the extravagant clothing she'd worn earlier. Most of all she didn't even look like she would be able to walk if not for the aid of the healer. He found himself smiling. That was his Yamila, stubborn to a fault.

The last time she'd given birth she hadn't looked like that. He'd been in the middle of a heist when he got the message she was in labor. By the time he was back to their little cottage in an underdeveloped world his mind was racing with all the things that could have gone wrong while he wasn't there. And she'd been standing at the doorway, waiting for him with a beautiful baby girl in her arms. He remembered it so well. The golden reflection of the sun on the field surrounding their home had given her dark skin an ethereal glow.

She was definately more worn out than she had been then, but she still held herself with grace.

Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he felt his defences against the trauma he'd pushed away begin to crack.

She was the first to break the silence, "I'm glad you made it..."

He shrugged and mimiced nonchalantness as best he could, "You know how it is with me and my kind; if it isn't one gallows it'll be another."

A ghost of a smile dashed across her tired features, "I'm sorry. For everything."

"...Yeah. Me too." That was all he said before reaching out with his hand and gently tracing it along her jaw, before guiding her face up to his. They kissed, sweetly, sorrowfully. After all the time away from him, she still tasted like the most exotic spices, her hair still smelled of jasmine. Having her body so near to his, her presence overwhelming his senses was what caused the shields at the back of his mind to shatter; opening the floodgates holding back the pain of losing his hand, the pain of losing Yamila again, and the mental problems that were destined to arise from facing one's own mortality. Quickly, he broke away the kiss.

He turned and walked away in the hope that she couldn't see the tears slipping down the side of his face.

Later, in an abandoned corner of the palace, he made a seat on a piece of rubble. The tears came first. Then the sobs. Then the crushing pain in his chest. After that came the uncontrolable shakes from the leftover adrenaline in his system.

He stayed like that for a long time.

VVVVV

I watched what transpired between the woman in red silks, and Andre. I realized that my assumption about her earlier had been correct. So that was Debbie's long lost concubine mother. Andre's long lost wife. I don't quite know what was said, or what wasn't, but in the end Andre turned and left. This left Debbie to approach the tired out woman. The two of them walked inside with the healer. I assumed they had a lot to discuss.

So, I turned my attention to Reza. "So...what do I need to do now?"

Reza shrugged, "You could search the Five Center worlds...but they are massive, and there's just as much a chance he could have disapeared into a smaller world to recurperate."

"...So what do I do?" I must have sounded like an idiot, but I was still not going to go around searching for an Emperor in multiple universes without even a clue of where he was.

There was a slight roll to her eyes, "You may return to your home and await further instructions."

"Oh," I said, a little snippily, "I'll wait for instructions, will I?"

"Yes," Her tone became just as clipped as mine, "That's exactly what you'll do."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Now you're just being infantile," She snapped.  With an exasperated sigh she ran a hand through her dark hair, "It will take a while for myself and my spies to locate him. You might as well go home and rest up for the next battle." There was a slight glint to her eyes, "However, remember that the Wildflower is connected to the magical plains. It may potentially effect circomstances and bring you into situations where you aid is required. Meaning it could very well take you to the Emperor itself after enough of his strength returns to make a dent on the spiritual plain."

Oh goody. But it seemed that, at that moment, nobody else needed me. I could return to my home, my bed, my computer, my tv, my bed. It seemed like such a foreign concept now.

I got ready to will myself home. But I had a thought.

"Reza, what do you benefit from helping me destroy your Emperor?"

She smiled, "That infant that was born today is now the heir apparent to the throne. If somehow the current, cruel Emperor could be replaced by that child, and the child were bred to be a true leader of men and beasts, then the Empire would be a beautiful place. That is what I seek to accomplish."

I nodded. It was fair enough. Even if I didn't totally agree with her methods. "Oh, and tell Andre and Debbie that I'll see them around."

She nodded an affirmative.

With that, well, I guess the best comparison I can make is that I clicked my ruby slippers and willed myself home.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 09, 2008, 12:01:20 PM
Quote
With that, well, I guess the best comparison I can make is that I clicked my ruby slippers and willed myself home.

Except, home wasn’t where I ended up. Sure, I was back on earth, my town, my street, but my home wasn’t there. Where my house had been, there was now just a square plot of empty land. The earth was all cracked and dry with a few pieces of rubble scattered about, but that was it. For the gazillionth time since this whole shebang started; I just stood there gawping. What had happened? Now I know I’d just spent time in magical gaga-googoo  land, but here on earth; buildings don’t just disappear.

“Mr Gardner?” A gruff male voice called out from behind me.

Agh!

Would people please stop sneaking up on me!?

“Mr Joey Gardner?”

I turned around to see a guy 5’9, with ebony skin, dressed in a brown pants and a white shirt with no suit jacket. Instead he wore a long brown raincoat. A vibrantly red tie that seemed just a little out of place with the rest, set off the ensemble. The man looked to be in his early 40s with short cropped hair, and he was stalking towards me. Now if I was a certain character from a certain urban-fantasy series I had been reading recently, I’m sure I would have come up with a really clever and witty reply. All I managed was:

“Uh…”   

He seemed to take that as a yes.

“Mr Gardner, I’m Detective Inspector Frances,” he said as he flashed me his badge “And we need to have a little chat.”

Shit.

(AN: It's a little short but for some reason I just couldn't resist.)
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 09, 2008, 07:34:23 PM
"Do I need my lawyer?"

"Probably, but you could help things along if you just answered a few questions."

"Like?"

"What happened here?"

"You think I had something to do with it?"

"You disappear in the middle of it.  Your neighbor survived the blast and he saw you at the scene outside shortly before the bomb went off. You can talk with me or you can talk with Homeland Security.  Actually you'll end up talking to both of us, but to be honest, I think I'll have a little more compassion."

"Why?"

"Because years ago it happened to me, just like this.  Crazy beast in the middle of the night, lot of running and fireworks--then poof, I was somewhere else.   Sound familiar?"

I didn't know what to say.  I looked where my apartment had once been, where my neighbors had lived, where most of them had apparently died.  Finally, "Wildflower can't be everywhere can it?" 

"No, I'm afraid not."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 09, 2008, 08:43:35 PM
Quote
"No, I'm afraid not."

"This is some interrogation room," I managed as I took a deep drink from the bottled water. It actually wasn't an interrogation room, it was Frances' kitchen. A homey little kitchen with more plastic in it than metal or wood, but clean. Except for the coffee maker, which seemed to be the only thoughroughly used part of the kitchen.

Frances sat down at the opposite side of the table from me, "So, how did it come to you?"

There was no need to specify what he was talking about, "A friend. She gave it to me as a gift, turns out she knew what it was the entire time. What about you?"

"I was in a car crash when it came to me. Saved my life. When I crawled out a Knight took me to another world, claiming I stole it," He leaned over the table, "You're in some pretty serious trouble here. Homeland Security isn't going to be happy that a bomb went off in your apartment, and you were sighted in the middle of mysterious activity at the scene."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, "I shouldn't be suprised. That's kind of how my last few days have been..."

He smiled, and suddenly I couldn't help but feel just a little bit connected with him. We were both people who had been sucked into something we didn't want, into a battle against forces greater than our own. "Yes, isn't it funny how the Wildflower is supposed to deffect circomstances to our benefit, and yet it seems we are more unlucky when we have it than when we didn't...However, you do have a chance to avoid trouble with the government."

Oh goody, time for the sell. I figured there had to be some reason he hadn't taken me directly to the station. I'd HOPED it was some internal connection to me or a desire to talk about old times...suppose not. "Okay," I said, "What do you want?"

He put down his coffee, and met my eyes, "Let me explain something to you. This world is the farthest away from the center of the..."

"Multiverse?" I offered.

"Thank you, multiverse. This world is farthest away from the center of the multiverse. Of all the worlds it's the newest, and thus the less connected to the spiritual plain." He rose to his feet and walked over to a cabinet, where he pulled out a collection of manila file folders. Sitting back down at the table he continued, "However, it seems that in the last century the spiritual pressure in this world has increased. I assume this is because we are no longer the last world in the lineup, that a new world is spawning after ours, and thus is pushing us closer to Wildfire."

"And thus we're becoming more affected by the magic..." I finished as I reached for the first of the file folders. It was a mass murder, looked like some kind of office party, but it was hard to tell through all the gore. At the center was a creature somewhere between man and wolf. I could only guess, a werewolf. It was dead, filled with gunshot wounds.

Frances nodded, "Exactly. You see, we've always been drifting closer, it just seems that as the new world is in it's birth stages the process has been accelerated."

I shook my head. All my work to keep the Empire from absorbing my world, because it would cause mass panic, seemed to be in vain. It was all happening anyway. "Damnit..." I cursed, "And there's nothing we can do to stop it?"

"No, this is the natural process of things. Although,normally it's supposed to be slower. Usually people become accustomed to it over a long period of time."

I was looking through another file folder, this one was filled with burnt corpses, "What do you need from me?"

"Protection. We need someone who can stop these supernatural forces, keep them from killing people, which will keep them from being noticed."

"And if I refuse?" I felt like I'd said that simple phrase so many times recently.

He laughed, richly and deep. When he calmed down he managed to say, "You are the Wild-bound. You should know the answer as well as anybody."

I smiled. So, Detective Frances DID know what it was like to be the Wild-bound.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 09, 2008, 11:50:23 PM
Quote
I smiled. So, Detective Frances DID know what it was like to be the Wild-bound.

I took another swig of water. Now it seemed I was more like Virgin King; Protector of the Universe. Ok, I really gotta think of a cooler name for myself; like Frank. It was odd sitting talking with another Wild-bound, made me wonder if he had known Debbie and Andre. As usual, there were more questioned raised than answered.

“Ok, so I’m like the new sheriff in town, but what happens when I’m… not in town? Or not on this planet for  that matter?”

Sure, I had power, but I couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“That’s where folks like me come in,” Francis replied “Guys in the know who ain’t gonna stand by and let some supernatural asshole tare up our planet.”

“Guys like you?”

“Yeah, seems destiny had other plans for this wild-candidate, got me a wife and kids now. But that only makes our job more pressing. People like us, we‘re the guardians of this plain, the guardians of Earth.”

“So this Wild-bound gig isn’t a lifelong deal…”

Now that was interesting.

“It lasts as long as the Wildflower needs you, then you move on to the next part. Destiny works in strange ways for guys like us.”

“Guys like us?”

“Yeah, y’know; descendants.”

“Descendants?”

“Uhuh,” he said before letting out a little chuckle “There an echo in here or somethin’?

I was doing a pretty good parrot impression by this point, but my blank expression must have told all.

“Uh, they didn’t tell you about that? Oh boy…”
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 10, 2008, 01:18:48 AM
Uh, they didn’t tell you about that? Oh boy

"I think it would be easier to just get laid..."

I stared at the ceiling and thought.  Frances let me work it out as he got a beer out of the refrigerator.  It was covered with photograghs of kids, lots of crayon drawings, a prescription for someone named Candi for an ear ache.  'Why did I get pulled into this?  Descendents? What the heck?'   My dad was a plumber and my mom worked in the registrars office of a state college.  As far as I knew my grandparents had been farmers, bankers, merchants, with one lawyer politician that got in trouble for taking bribes.  It really seemed like Debbie and the Wildflower had made one major mistake this time.  Certainly I'd never heard about any of them being Guardians of Earth. 

Then again, how could Wildflower be wrong?  Maybe I needed a road trip back home. 

"How will you fix it with Homeland Security?  How do I explain that I run around with a plastic toy (Wildflower was playing Starwars again) attached to my hip?  I don't dare be away from it.  I don't know which would be worse--if they believed me OR if they just chalk me up as an over the top, insane, crazy sci fi fan...    I just graduated from college man, I'm supposed to be looking for a job, not saving the multiverse."

The Wildflower hummed at my side, not a warning type humming.  Maybe it was an "I'm so sorry I screwed up your life, Joey" type way. 


and we are back into hard core 1st POV.  We may need to start a 2nd thread to meet the need of women authors wanting a female who knows how to kick ass.....  :-)  Okay, I'll contain myself, I promise, I think, maybe, ahh...I'll never make it.  Chewing my nails in angst.  I'm betraying my sex....:-)  It's a good thing I'm working on an obnoxious 14 year old female YA book....
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 10, 2008, 05:08:40 AM
AN: You can start a second thread if you want to, meg_evonne. But in our defense I think we have some pretty strong females in this story, it just so happens that Debbie and Reza happen to be somwhere else at the moment. :) There's no reason not to tell something from their POV using 3rd.

Quote
The Wildflower hummed at my side, not a warning type humming.  Maybe it was an "I'm so sorry I screwed up your life, Joey" type way.

"So, where am I going to live until you send up the Bat Signal, Commisioner?" I asked. It was a perfectly reasonable question, as my last home had been blown sky high.

Frances nodded, "I'll work something out. But for now you can stay here."

I blinked. It was a tiny, homey apartment. I imagined a wife and kids living there and could hardly think there would be room. Unless he planned for me to live in the living room. While that made linguistic sense I still thought it silly from a practical standpoint.

Again, he laughed. "No, I rent this place for work. To store my files and to sleep if I'd be coming back too late or, you know, if someone-dash-something is following me and I don't want to lead it back home."

Okay, that made more sense. I asked, "Allrighty then, next topic: I'm sure you have some cases in mind for me to start in on. And I assume that as long as I'm working with you I don't have to pay rent?"

There was a little bit of a pause, before, "Okay, no rent. You have enough on your shoulders...And you're right. I do have a case in mind."

He told me.

I blinked, "You mean those are real?"

He nodded, "Yep, them and pretty much every other nightmare you've ever heard about."

Suddenly, my mind filled with all the nightmarish things I'd already run into in Wildfire, then I thought about all of the other things I remembered from fairy tales.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

I promised Frances I would get my sleep before starting my 'investigation'.

It wasn't until he left me alone in the apartment that I realized I didn't know dick about investigation.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on April 10, 2008, 05:49:35 AM
It wasn't until he left me alone in the apartment that I realized I didn't know dick about investigation.

I had gone almost immediatly to sleep after he had left.  Out of habit I locked the door.  It wasn't till I heard Frances coming in the next morning that I considered how useless that was.  If something from the Not-Here wanted to get me, the front door would not have been an obstacle. 

"I'm going to need some help" I admitted.  I seemed to be saying that a lot lately.  For the latest in a line of heroes, I was getting the sinking feeling I sucked.  I chowed into a chocolate frosted custard filled donut and decided confession was good for the soul - or misery loves company - I wasn't sure which.

Detective Inspector Frances nodded, "Yeah, we had to look you up and I saw you don't really have a background for this kind of thing."

He had brought over bottles of orange juice and donuts.  I realized I hadn't eaten in a while and was starving.  He didn't look like he was going to have one and just twisted the top open on one of the juices.

"Seriously," I continued around a mouthful, "I don't know why it picked me.  I don't seem to be suited to this and my life is destroyed.  You at least had a law enforcement career starting."

"I was almost done with the police academy when I got it." he snorted mirthlessly, "almost ruined my life - strange things always happening around me, and me always pulling out my keys.  People thought I was nuts with that funny looking thing on my key chain."

I blinked looking at him blankly again.  How could he keep a sword on his key chain?

He took another swig of O.J. with a sidelong glance that told me he was amused at my confusion.  Then the light bulb went on...

"It didn't even look remotely like a sword for you..." 

He nodded, "It was one of those eight ball things, you can screw onto your gear shift to make your old barely running, rusted out Camero look cool."

I thought of the mystery mobile that was probably sitting in a scrapyard somewhere and winced.  "How did it get there?  I mean mine was stolen by...a friend and left in my apartment."

He shrugged, "Some gifted thief from further in, had managed to lift it and brought it here.  As far as I can tell he owned the car before me and the used car lot I bought it from."

I got suspicious.  "What was his name?"

Frances shrugged, "I don't remember.  It didn't matter after it saved my life, and I had become bound.  Besides after I got accused of stealing it myself and taken in by that knight, I'm pretty sure so did the real thief.  The emperor ordered everyone suspected of being party to the theft executed"

I stopped chewing for a moment thinking about my first hours in a cell on another world.  He seemed unconcerned how the stupid thing got in his possession so I dropped it, and made a mental note to hunt down the history of his old car if I ever had time.  For now it was back to...everything else.

"So, first thing. In the immediate future, do you have any idea how I'm going to convince the police that I am NOT a terrorist, or a Star Wars enthusiast who was making meth in my apartment?"

Detective Frances smiled crookedly, "I was getting around to that.  I'm afraid we have some.." he scratched his chin looking for the right words, "...Creative storytelling to do.  Most of which has been done for you - but you will have to go along and seem convincing."

I shrugged, "I guess I can do that."  Nothing could be more unbelievable than the truth.

He considered me for a long second, then nodded with a look that said he knew he had no choice but to trust me.  "Well, Like I said, your not the first person to have the Wildflower, so over the years we've built up stories about this...occult organization.  We called it N.A.I.F. and it's a well funded secret group of occult fanatics who are conjuring up evil with found ancient documents from other planes of existence. (the religious people like to believe Hell - so we let them.) They change normal people into werewolves or giant spiders or a host of other supernatural things that go bump in the night.  A group of 'experts' was recruited to fight these people.  We are a very shunned side, closet group that operates secretly within Interpol."

I frowned.  It was just too many things in one day.  Really.  "There's an occult group like that?"

Frances rolled his eyes and took another pull at his juice.  "No" he explained patiently as if he was talking to a child, "We made up this group so that we wouldn't have to tell the governments of the world that we were fighting an uphill battle against extradimensional forces that will probably, eventually, way in the future... give the average Joe public citizens everywhere the power to manipulate arcane forces."

I covered my chagrin by grabbing another donut, "Well yeah, of course, what I meant was...ah..." I took a bite to stall and give me time to think of an excuse, "What did you tell everyone N.A.I.F. stood for?"
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 10, 2008, 07:17:22 AM
Quote
I covered my chagrin by grabbing another donut, "Well yeah, of course, what I meant was...ah..." I took a bite to stall and give me time to think of an excuse, "What did you tell everyone N.A.I.F. stood for?"

Frances took a break from his sip of orange juice to look at me, very seriously, "It's top secret."

"...You never came up with a meaning, huh?"

He shrugged, "That's only half true. My partner came up with something clever, I just never...remember."

I laughed really hard at that. Not that I really had any right to, I probably wouldn't have remembered a bunch of big nonsense words either. We ate in silence the rest of the time, at the end I shoved a doughnut in my mouth. It tasted really good, and I couldn't resist a slight sense of arrogance. Debbie had always complained that I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight. I had naturally relished every possible oppertunity to remind her of it. Just as she had relished the oppertunity to drag me into an interdementional power play. See? Our relationship was very even.

With the doughnut and the orange juice finished, we got to work. Frances briefed me again on the case, "Local businessmen have been violently murdered. They are all from different companies, so there was no connection there."

I reviewed what I'd learned last night, "But the connection is that they all had the tendency to pay women to sleep with them."

"Yes, but it's important to remember that only one of them was known to pick up street prostitutes, the others spent their time with the high-end escort companies. And their bank accounts were drained shortly before they died."

I felt smart, even though I was really only reciting what he'd told me last night, "Aha. So whoever did it wanted money."

"And food," He added.

"And food," I agreed. A severe understatement was what that was. These business men had been skinned, and devoured almost down to the bone. Frances told me that the only way to identify them had been through dental records. I began, "So, I don't know a whole lot about mythology. How many she-demons are there that lure and devour flesh? Is it a vampire? I've always wanted to stake a vampire. Like Buffy."

He smirked, "Mr. Gardner you're Xander at best."

"But I have superpowers," I argued.

"Yes, but your a pale, skinny, parrot of a man," He seemed to get great pleasure from the look on my face, but he quickly dropped the subject and continued. "The you actually aren't going to get much trouble from the vamps. They've been here almost as long as people. They came here from one of the inner worlds about the same time we were clubbing animals with big sticks. As a result their culture has...adapted. While this would normally fit the profile the manner in which the victims died doesn't work out. Vampires tend to make it look like suicide, or hide the body in a way that no one will find it."

"So what did this?" I asked.

He sighed, "That's why we're here." Suddenly he looked just a little bit older, a brief look of longing went across his features.

I suddenly realized something. Frances was eating breakfast with me, and he'd been at the apartment until late last night. The idea that he even had an apartment seperate from his own home made me wonder if he ever really got to see his wife and family.

But, I reminded myself that it wasn't my place, and that I didn't know enough about the situation to supply an accurate judging of it. Not unlike this alltogether investigation. I am definately learning to speak before I talk.

After that I left to change into the fresh clothes he'd brought me. Blue jeans and plaid. I must have looked like a lankier version of the guy from Starksy & Hutch, and it felt uncomfortable to wear clothes that were so tight after spending so much time in the loose clothing of Wildfire. But all that mattered was that I was wearing familiar threads again. It felt really good. Even though my home was destroyed, this was the closest it seemed I was going to get, and I was glad for it.

Then we left to...investigate. I think. I remind you that I really wouldn't know what investigation looked like if it was knawing my face off. Debbie had always been far more into the detective shows that I was. The only one I ever seriously paid attention to was Scooby Doo, and according to Debbie that didn't count.

It was actually kind of funny, we'd spent a lot of time together before all of the supernatural crap, and those times watching TV and eating popcorn were distant. Now, I couldn't really imagine her as anything other than a perky mage-thief. Well, that and the spawn of Andre, but other than those two things I had a hard time pictureing her any other way. It was very, very hard to think there was a time I'd thought she was human.

With a sigh I realized I missed her. No, not Mage Debbie. Human Debbie. Sure Mage Debbie and I were still very good friends, probably even stronger after what we'd been through. But I didn't miss Mage Debbie like I missed Human Debbie. I guess that was because I knew that I would see Mage Debbie again, and that Human Debbie was someone I would never get a chance to see again. A part of me mourned that.

Quickly, I shoved it aside so Frances couldn't see. I walked out the door to the bedroom and met him at the door. We left quickly to go check out a theory he had.

I'll admit I was quite anxious to see this car that had once housed the Wildflower for him.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 10, 2008, 05:41:44 PM
Quote from Qualapec, "I'll admit I was quite anxious to see this car that had once housed the Wildflower for him."

Walking outside the apartment building and into the same car in question, Frances handed me a wallet, a cell phone, and a plastic flip open ID carrier.  I opened the ID, my photo (ripped from my driver's license) was in it, along with a shiny Interpol badge (I kid you not).  The ID said, Joseph W Capp, investigator Interpol, Dept of Special Cases.  I slipped it into my back jeans pocket, first having to fumble around Wildflower.  It was in detract mode and looked like a billy club--unless you touched it. Then it just felt like a plastic kids toy.

"Can we stop at a Mall first?"

"Sure thing.  A salary advance was electronically deposited into your account last night.  Interpol doesn't pay as good as the bad guys, but it's enough to keep you in a reasonable middle class tax bracket.  There's a debit card in that wallet I handed you.  The pin is N.A.I.F. on a phone keypad--so it's 6243."  He pulled up to one of those massive city zits, called a box mall.  He waited in the car and, as I walked away, I saw him pull out a cell phone and call someone. 

The first stop was the ATM by the front doors.  I scanned the debit card and punched the pin and asked for a balance.  Then I tried to get my eyebrows back down where they belonged.  'Yeah, that'll be enough,' I thought.

By the time I got out of there, I'd put a dent into the debit card balance, but I was no longer swinging a plastic lightsaber in public.  I now sported a lightweight Khaki London Fog Coat that I wore loose rather than belted.  I found inside the coat that Wildflower must have been busy, because there was a quick release fastener where I could hang it, out of sight. 

Frances pulled up to a high rise and parked at the entrance.  The uniformed doorman looked like he was going to have a fit and rushed out to meet us at the curb side.  That old car really looked nasty, but we both just grinned as we flashed our IDs and the doorman could only frown as he let us in.  We took a private elevator to one of four penthouse apartments on top of the building, with soft jazz music piped in to keep us company. 

On entering the penthouse, my second thought was, 'Hell of a view.', referring to the view out the windows.  My first thought was, 'Hell of a view' , as I centered on, frankly, a hump-me delicious 5'6" Renee Rouso type, but with blonde hair, who was dressed in expensive tailored clothes.  The "business" look just couldn't look "business" on her.  I swore as Wildflower vibrated in jealousy inside my new coat.

The woman spun around, when we entered, holding a small digital camera in her left.  Her right hand reached beneath her suit jacket to her beltline in back.   When she recognized Francis, she let her hand fall--but it was too late.  I'd seen enough cop shows to know that meant she was packing a hidden gun.

Her voice was sultry, yep sultry.  I felt like I'd just walked into a noir detective movie and she was stacked perfectly for the part. The accent held a touch of upper end London, "Well, look who's here.  The boys who fight NAIF, she pronounced it as a word with a long 'A'.

"Joey, let me introduce you to Ms Carrolton.  She's a special insurance investigator who specializes in high end insurance claims--especially those that tend to fall into our catagory of expertise.  Ms Carrolton, Joseph W Capp, a new member of our team."

She briefly glanced in my direction, but I had the distinct feeling that this blonde had just taken note of everything about me, including my in-seam measurements.

"Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?"  I fumbled to readjust Wildflower as she continued to snip in amusement.  "Recruits rather young these days, aren't they?"

Frances just smiled, "We take what lands our way.  You'd be surprised how much he's adding to the team."

My personal thoughts? Okay, this lady was a bitch.  A gorgeous bitch, but still a bitch.


 

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 11, 2008, 06:49:52 AM
“So Sarah, why are you here? Tell me you don’t think the vic could’ve done this to himself?” Frances taunted the ‘insurance’ lady.

She gave him a look that said You know why I’m here before actually saying:

“Vic?” her tone a little incredulous.

“Vic-tim, Sarah,” he let out a little sigh “Victim. That’s cop-talk for the bag of bones that used to be our…guy…that isn’t there any more!?”

Francis stalked over to a corner of the room where an outline of something had been taped. If that was supposed to be where the guy had died, whatever had killed him, didn’t leave him like much of a man…  or much of an anything really. The outline just looked like a large blob. Francis was still talking, he seemed a little bemused.

“Ms Carrolton, would you mind explaining why the body that the DSC specifically requested would stay on scene for 24hours, is no longer on my scene? You know there’s tests that need conducting while the body’s still on location.”

Why would an insurance lady have anything to do with the actual body?

“Detective Frances, surely you know the story about the early bird and the worm? I got my worm,” she said smugly “The tests have already been conducted, just not by you.”

For some crazy reason I can’t explain right now, I was starting to expect that our Ms Carrolton worked for an insurance company just about as much as I had passed my Interpol entrance exam. Can’t think why.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on April 11, 2008, 10:44:00 PM
Sorry all.  NAIF was supposed to be the made up bad guy organization that the Interpol group is supposedly fighting - guess I didn't explain that very well
quote author=Kristine  date=1207806575
"...over the years we've built up stories about this...occult organization.  We called it N.A.I.F. and it's a well funded secret group of occult fanatics who are conjuring up evil with found ancient documents from other planes of existence. (the religious people like to believe Hell - so we let them.) They change normal people into werewolves or giant spiders or a host of other supernatural things that go bump in the night.  A group of 'experts' was recruited to fight these people.  We are a very shunned side, closet group that operates secretly within Interpol."..."We made up this group so that we wouldn't have to tell the governments of the world that we were fighting an uphill battle against extradimensional forces that will probably, eventually, way in the future... give the average Joe public citizens everywhere the power to manipulate arcane forces."

I suppose a NAIF unit would be like a Hate-Crimes Unit
Quote from: Anduriel link=topic=6230.msg198376#msg198376
For some crazy reason I can’t explain right now, I was starting to expect that our Ms Carrolton worked for an insurance company just about as much as I had passed my Interpol entrance exam. Can’t think why.

"Per the co-operation agreements between agencies, you will of course be sharing those test results and giving our experts access to that body." Frances smiled too sweetly.

Ms Carrolton returned the smile a little frostier, "We will be as co-operative as you would be in our place." she purred.

Frances nodded and turned back to where the body had been, dropping his surupy smile and grimaced at the floor.  "Either your crime scene guys are getting sloppy with the tape or this body was...uh..." he shook his head unable to find a word to describe the blood soked tape outline on the floor.

Despite their departmental anomosity Ms Carrolton answered, "The body was both ripped apart and desicated, like he had time to bleed while something sucked all the liquid life out of him."

She pointed under an end table, "there was an arm over there, and most of one foot under the coffee table."

I looked in the spots she pointed and and saw the sad little tape outlines of body parts.  When I looked up from spotting the one under the coffee table she was looking at me instead of where Frances, with a pair of surgical gloves he had pulled out of his pocket, was taking a sample on a big Q-tip of the blood and...something else, in the main body spot.

"Mr Capp are you just here to get the psychic vibe or are you going to do any acctual investigating?"

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 14, 2008, 02:11:08 AM
Fixed my post....  NAIF bad guys,  he's now with Interpol, Department of Special Cases.  DSC?  How's that sound?

Frances grunted from under the coffee table, "Leave the kid alone, Carrolton.  He's learning."

She gave me a look that said, "Amature".  Which was not called for.  Hey, I hadn't vomited at the sight of blood or the smell in the room.  I thought I was doing pretty well.

Edited to add posting
Working on my villains... Side bar:

Riding upon solar winds, the rocketing gas cloud, known by Joey as Cloudius Gaseous, slowed outside the reach of its home within a massive black hole.  It swirled, waiting for the right time to enter the event horizon.  A large galaxy slipped within and the sight was impressive, but the gas cloud was impatient to reach home.  While it waited, it turned its displeased thoughts to the turn of fortunes on Wildflower.  It needed to share this new information and obtain feedback on how to proceed. 

From its position well out from the entry, he could see the multiple colored strands of massive energy power that stretched outwards away from the black hole.  Each strand-stream was a single unit, providing crucial fuel to provide for the needs of their existence deep within the Black Hole.  In the beginning, gasses formed together, eventually gained sentience with a random blast of magical energy, and sought collective refuge from the blast of creation.  This black hole became their first home.  Anything can feed a black hole, but we had specific needs to exist, to grow, and finally to multiply.  We needed the energies tied to magic.  As our control grew, we were able to exhort power, strengthen the threads between the magic worlds, rearrange the galaxies that previously had drifted aimlessly into the black hole by gravity pull, selecting those with magic within to feed us.
 
Over a hundred threads now extended outwards, each with one as I, working to construct a strand-stream of systems that had magic potential.  All connected  and tied together by natural portals from one to the other.  We encouraged the magic, we blew a soft breath, and it would flourish.  Each strand-stream had several worlds (galaxies), like pearls on a necklace.  The closest were the most magically developed and those further out the least.  The strand-stream pulled ever closer to the black hole, feeding each galaxy with its magic ripened world into the food chain of our kind.  It was a delicate ballet of systems intertwining, approaching, and finally falling when their magic reached the maximum to add to our size, strength, and power.  Soon, we would be large enough for the Release of a new colony, the first since the beginning of time.  It would be soon.  Soon…

The gas cloud felt the excitement from its kind as the galaxy with its magic world within slipped into the gravity well.  Anxious to join the others, to share in the feasting, and the celebration, the gas cloud waited impatiently.  It felt such joy as finally it slipped into the gravity well and was drawn home at last.  It had been a long time, but inside the black hole time was of no matter.  Once home, it would discuss the problem concerning the Emperor, who had backed away from his obligations on the world called Wildflower. 

Within its home, the comfortable absolute blackness surrounded it and it rejoined the singleness of the Mesh.  It felt the waffling of its greater energy envelop it, refuel it, welcome it home.  The Mesh of the collective stretched just above and across the base of the black hole, acting as a filter—pulling the magic energy it needed, releasing the rest to its final fate.  The strand-stream gas cloud released its findings so that all parts would be able to provide input from their own experiences with the memories from other strand-streams.  Its thoughts intermingled with the Mesh collective.

“The Emperor lost the Wildflower world.”  In responce the Mesh wavered in anger.  “I dared not break with his orders without your guidance and I abandoned the world at his order.  The Emperor is unconcerned with the development.  He claims that he will simply by pass Wildflower AND Earth and move on to the new world being pulled into the strand-stream.”

The Mesh collective communicated back via undulations of its surface. “That will mean that the Wildflower will not be in full fruit when it is taken, nor will Earth.”

“Yes, but he is right that the New World is ripe for the taking.  It can easily be turned towards magic.  It is in the elementary beginnings—folk tales and legends are ripe on the world, no technology yet competes to close down the belief in such things.   They have just learned the powers of the winds that they believe come from the Gods.  If I had spent less time on the other worlds, I could have been on Earth to turn it to magic, but I lost valuable opportunities once machines began to take hold.  Magic faded from their lives and it will be a struggle to bring it back.”

Again the Mesh collective communicated back, “The people of Earth are stubborn, but they will learn.  They will be forced to learn.  Once the Emperor takes the New World, will he be strong enough to retake Wildflower and Earth?”

“Yes, I believe he will be.  If not, there are others that we can convince to aid us.  We can promise the same thing we offered the Emperor—the safety of his home world.”

“And you feel that there is time to accomplish all this, on all three worlds, in time to feed us for the Release?”

“The Emperor is arrogant but desperate to save his world.  I would have preferred to not abandon Wildflower, but there is a very good chance that he will succeed.  With the New World, he will have enough power.”

The collective’s Mesh slowed its movement with the news, “IF he is successful, we would have an unprecedented strand-stream of eight galaxies in one great Calling.”

There was stillness as the collective considered this unheard of phenomenon.  Then a slow fluttering built to match the excitement of the recent feast.  “The timing of so much magical energy is an unparalleled opportunity.  If we shifted our energy on pulling them close together and draw them in quickly, it would be enough to precipitate the Release.  Our kind will possess the power to multiply for the first time since the beginning.  Go back to the Emperor, help him take the New World, and then with the added power take back the Wildflower and Earth.  We will move the other strand-streams to coordinate the Calling of this single strand-stream with the Release.”

“May we multiply!” The Mesh collective rippled and repeated the thought across its surface in ever frantic movement until it expelled the original gas cloud in an outward stream of particles that easily escaped the gravity well.  On the outside, light years away from the Black Hole, it swirled in the brightness of the universe and missed the comforting absolute blackness, then it turned and, sailing again within the dark hole’s particle blast, it speed along the strand-stream until it reached the first galaxy.  It sailed past the many uninhabited worlds to its center where it paused outside the atmosphere of the Emperor’s Inner World.  Accustomed now to the brightness of the stars and galaxies compared to the absolute darkness of his own home, it looked outwards, away from his home, away from the Emperor’s world, and down the subtle colors of the strand-stream from the Inner World to the farthest galaxy that contained the New World.  “Yes,” it thought, “May we multiply!  And it will be I who makes it happen.”
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 16, 2008, 01:39:59 AM
Meanwhile

Joey

Ok, so I’d done well with the whole not puking my guts out thing, but now they were expecting me to do real police work. In case you couldn’t guess; that’s something I haven’t done before. Ever. I didn’t know where to begin, I mean even with all the cop shows I watched; I was hardly crime scene investigation material…

And so I said the first words that came into my head:

“Actually Ms Carrolton, I am the psychic vibe,” I received a quizzical look from Frances “I’m DSC’s new psychic consultant.”

Big mistake.

If it was possible; Sarah Carrolton’s disapproving look deepened, until she looked like something resembling a bullfrog on ‘that time of the month’.

“Is that so?” She glanced at Detective Frances… I never did learn his first name; come to think of it “I didn’t think Interpol employed such means.”

I retorted with a most cunning:

“Uh…”

“Well Mr Capp, how about you give us all your professional opinion?”

Did I mention I’m really not psychic? It seemed I was however, kinda stupid. One of these days I was gonna learn to keep my mouth tightly shut. Seeing as this wasn’t ‘one of those days’; I just stood there looking stupid. Thankfully Frances came to my rescue:

“Ms Carrolton, if you’ve quite finished grilling the newest member of my staff, I think it’s time you left.”

“I certainly will n¬”

“Sarah, need I remind you that no matter who you represent unofficially, legally speaking you are just an insurance flunky, where as I am an officer with Interpol,” He fixed her with a milk-curdling stare “You leave when I say you leave. Unless you are waiting for an armed escort?”

If looks could kill; Frances would have exploded at that very moment. Ms Carrolton did not look pleased. She paused. As if contemplating whether to challenge Frances on this notion, but thought better of it.

“It is of no consequence. I have already completed my investigation.”

With that; she left.
“Finally, I thought she’d never get her fine ass out of here,” was all he had to say before standing up. “You fancy doing some actual work now? Tell me kid, you ever heard of a skin-walker?”
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 18, 2008, 12:56:19 AM
"The Dresden Files TV show had a skin walker.  Skins someone and then wears the body?  Impersonates the person?  Is what happened here?"

Frances nodded. 

"In that case, what did all the millionaires have in common? that would attract skin walkers?"

Frances smiled, "Thought you'd pick this up pretty quickly.  Good job, recruit.  That's what we have to figure out.  While we work towards that goal, let me give you some rudimentary rules about handling a crime scene."

I listened in as Frances started feeding me rules on how to handle the crime scene, showed me the foot prints in the blood, the dusted areas revealing fingerprints.  Let's just say that I got the Crib notes to Investigation 101.  As we headed out of the building, Wildflower began to hum.  Frances might know investigation scenes, but I had my own personal Wildflower alarm security system.  I hollared at Frances to get in the car and raced to the other side.  Frances' Camaro (if I'm wrong on car type--let me know!)  might be rusted out and ready for the scrap yard or a serious restorer, but the engine hummed like a pro, spinning it's wheels and the car's tires as it sprang forward.  0 to 60 in seconds.

Trouble was--it wasn't quite fast enough.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on April 18, 2008, 10:00:23 PM
(if I'm wrong on car type--let me know!)  - Frances did have a Camaro when he first got the Wildfire but he wrecked it and the magic saved his life - Nothing says he couldn't have a sentimental attachment to that year of car and bought another one though  ;D  
Trouble was--it wasn't quite fast enough.

The first bullet smashed through the back windshield and imbedded itself in the dashboard inbetween the radio and the air vents.  As if that would not have been bad enough a blue spark flashed from the hole it made as if it had struck something electrical but, through the wildflower, I felt the conection to the magic of my native homeworld.  Who ever had made the bullets must have been fairly powerful because I could sense the difficulty of pulling the magic from this very non-magic world.  The magic reacted sluggishly at first like something pulling against suction but once it came loose some very large nasty looking hairy legged bugs poured from the where the slug was spinning some kind of magic.

Frances wretched the car to one side of the street slamming on the breaks as we heard 3 more bullets pierce the metal of the car's body.  I was trying to become one with my seat back through sheer osmosis, pushing with my legs, away from the insects.  As disoriented, disturbed and reactionary as I was, the wildflower threw information up to my reeling brain.

The insects were normal, earth bugs, but the slugs were creating some kind of spacial anomoly that punched a hole into thier nest far away.  I was no entomologist but i was willing to bet that they were not harmless or friendly (not that I would know a freindly bug from an angry bug).  I also could feel that the magic the wildflower would have to draw from, was slow and difficult to manipulate so we would have half the nest in the car before I could pull any new magic into the situation.

Frances yelped and slapped at the couple of insects that had made it over onto his leg.  definitely not friendly.  I acted on instinct the same way I had pushed myself back into the seat, and reached out to the only magic I could get to - the bullet iteself.  I thought about plugging the hole with something but that would require me to pull energy to- that wasn't going to be possible in a pinch.

I had always gotten the creeps from bugs.  I wanted them gone so I moved the hole's other end to the only place I could think of that would take them back, away from me.  It wasn't exactly a well thought out manuver.

The bullet sized hole into the vacuum of deep space almost immediately sucked out all the bugs, then it drew in a stray gum wraper from off the floor and created a brisk breeze within the car as nature tried to fill the vacuum of deep space with the air inside the Camero.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 18, 2008, 10:32:44 PM
The Camaro had ended up on the curbing, near a light pole and a bunch of empty garbage cans.  Frances was swearing up a storm and bullets were still raining into the car.  Suddenly we heard gunshots from in front of us, only they sounded more like a cannon.  Instead of fum, fum, fums, they were whoom, whoom, whooms.  From behind the garbage cans came a slender, small figure with one hell of a handgun held police style--straight out with both arms locked against what had to be a monstrous kickback.  She blasted non-stop rounds and calmly walked up to my side of the car, ignoring the intial shooter who shifted aim from our car to her, inadvertently punching holes in the garbage cans.

An SUV's brakes squelled and stopped next to us.  Frances and I both ducked, thinking the bad guys had backup, but it proved to be the sex goddess Sarah Carrolton.  She visually confirmed we were not injured, pulled a lever on her dashboard and holy hell fired out the back of her car towards the shooters.  It sounded like a nuclear blast when it hit.  "Eat that James Bond," we heard her yell. 

The car door opened on my side and the fearless gunwoman slipped in beside me, pushing me over, with a "Hi ya, Joey Gardner. How ya doing?"  She turned around and fired a couple more rounds at the smoke pile of a vehicle behind us that must have housed the shooters. 

Frances gave a thumbs up to Carrolton, backed his car with blinding speed, shifted gears and tore off heading away from the nuk cloud.  Carrolton taking point.

I had turned around in my seat to check out the nuclear cloud.  As it got smaller in the rear view window, I twisted back around.  I grabbed the woman beside me in a bear hug.  "It's good to see you, Debbie.  They call me Joey Capp now.  I have a Interpol ID card and everything."

She smiled back.  "That's cool."

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on April 19, 2008, 07:08:10 PM
Quote
"It's good to see you, Debbie.  They call me Joey Capp now.  I have a Interpol ID card and everything."

She smiled back.  "That's cool."

I was both happy and grateful to see her. Grateful, obviously, because she'd just saved my very pasty ass, and happy because...well...

Seeing her made me realize how alone I'd felt kind since I'd returned to my world. Frances had a connection to the Wildflower, true, so there was a bit of kinship there. But I hadn't been in as many terrifying situations with him as I had with Debbie. Nor were we friends beforehand. And she wasn't like Carrolton, who gave me looks like I belonged in the loony bin. Debbie knew all about it, she knew the ins and outs of the worlds surrounding us.

More importantly, I knew for an absolute fact I could trust her. There was always that doubt with other people, but Debbie had proven to me that for a thief she was rather honest.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, with a little more adrenaline driven anger than he'd intended to. "I mean," He added quickly, "Not that I'm complaining, we would have been bug food if you hadn't showed up..."

She shrugged, "I was in the neighborhood..." She cast a suspicious look to Frances.

"You can talk in front of him, he's cued in," I felt so cool for saying it, I don't know why. Something about it gave me a sense that I knew what I was doing (which I'll remind you, I never do, it's my natural state). "He was the wild-bound before me."

An inexplicable emotion crossed Debbie's face as she looked from me, to Frances, back to me again.

At the moment, I wrote it off as suprise.

I was in the process of formulating an explaination of the last 24 hours, when suddenly something slammed into the side of the car hard enough to send us into the opposing lane. The suddenness and loudness of the impact shocked me first. They're always louder than you expect them to be. The second thing that shocked me was the fact that a semi-truck was barreling towards us.

"Shit!" Frances yelled before quickly swerving again into the lane we'd originated in, barely avoiding a collision that would have squished our car like a can crusher. I gathered my wits and struggled to see the thing that had hit us.

When I finally did catch a glimpse of it, I wished I hadn't.

It was almost cartoonish in shape. With humorously large appendages and paws. It's face was that of a fearsome, yet humorous gargoyle, the spiraling rams horns coming off of the top of it's head also seemed over dramatized, and the dramatic wings looked heavier than the body itself. Its skin seemed to be made of molten rock. It was amazing that it managed to maintain flight. It had to be using magic, which was impressive seeing as how difficult it was to call magic on this plane of existence. Which meant that it was either very enterprising and clever or...

...or it had a surplus of spiritual energy that could be used to keep it aflight.

Oh crap...

It flew above the car, and landed on the top, crasping at the insides of the windows with it's massive claws. "Frances!" I yelled, I needed him to park the car so I could fight this thing. I didn't trust my skills to fight something of that kind of power in such cramped quarters, with two other people there. I grabbed the Wildflower, expecting it to lend us just a teency bit help, even if this world wasn't its natural state.

Still, it needed to detach itself from the car before we could park. I frantically grabbed at the lightsabre in the shoulder holster, in a brilliant flare of light and power it became the sword it had been in Wildfire. It was still glowing with transformation as I thrust it through the roof of the car up to the hilt, as quickly as I could.

It couldn't have been a worse plan, the thing must have dodged, twisting it's body in another direction to avoid the blade. The center of gravity in the moving car shifted and to keep from tipping over we jerked to the left. Right into a telephone pole. The sudden stopping sensation sent me flying forewards into the car seat in front of me. I banged my head hard enough for a sharp snap to come from my nose, followed by pain and a gush of blood. Frances' airbag kicked in when we impacted, so I didn't know how hurt he was. Debbie had used some of her magic at the last second, and had somehow slowed or prevented her impact into the drivers seat.

Worse than the telephone pole. The Thing was  now on all fours, and paused at the back of our car. In it's hand a ball of firey energy was developing.

I sensed the power gathering, and found myself cursing loudly. There was enough energy in that little ball of fire to blow us halfway over the goddamn moon.

It released the ball of fire before there was anything I could do to stop it. I braced myself for the impact, flowing energy into the Wildflower in the hope that it would help us survive.

The explosion came in a rush of scarlet and fire, and dust, lots of dust. All around us the cars windows burned with crimson energy, while fire gushed behind them. Maintaining the momentum of an incredibly violent explosion.

Very interesting, I'd never been on the inside of an explosion before. More importantly it was very interesting how, while all of this was happening, we were not being blown halfway over the goddamn moon. The momentum from the explosion died down, but enough dust had been kicked up that the crimson still surrounding us was coated with it, obscuring us from the world beyond.

I smiled, a shield. A shield had come up at the last moment and saved us. The shield dropped seconds after I realized it for what it was. The dust that settled on it was tossed up again, and I barely registered a figure leaping down from the roof of the Camero to the ground. But after a few seconds I could see him clearly through the broken rear window.

He looked only a couple years older than me, with feathery blond hair and a fedora. A young, shaven John Schneider cosplaying as Indiana Jones, with a beautiful Chinese sword in one hand, reworked since I'd last seen him.

"Great balls of fire," He said with a Cheshire cat smile I knew all to well. "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Gardner."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 19, 2008, 10:32:53 PM
I kicked open the Camero's door that had crumpled in the accident and leaped out, Wildfire flaming lights outwards.  Debbie instantly was beside me, her cannon handgun reloaded and ready.

"Good to see you, friend.  I see Humbert got your hand back on again.  As good as new I hope?"  I asked and took three long steps and I was on his right, the Wildflower free in my right hand.  Debbie closed in on his left, her cannon once more extended and ready.  "

Andre snarked back, "You cut my fucking hand off, Joey.  Don't think I've forgiven you."

Molten Rock Beast was on its four legs, wings furled tight to its body,in some sort of ground attack mode.  It's upper body tipped upwards from it's broad base and two arms flickered weak green energy.   Somehow Andre had interferred with the beast's ability to form fireballs.  On the other hand, the flickering seemed to be lengthening, strengthening.  I figured it would be back up to maximum power soon enough to do us damage.

Carrolton and Frances joined the party.  Carrolton was sporting a similar cannon gun to Debbie's.  Frances had pulled out a sword from somewhere, maybe from under the dashboard of his Camero.  The airbag and the seatbelts must have caused some damage and had to hurt like hell, given his fierce expression of concentration and his difficulty breathing.  'Wait airbags in a old, but restorable Camero?'  Obviously Frances' restoration job must have begun with some practical features before he moved to the outside.  Then again---if he fixed the outside up, it would probably just get 'beercanned'* by some supernatural power again  Frances grimaced as he raised his sword.  'Damn, he's probably broken a rib or two.'   I'm going to have to remember that he's only a knowledgable human and no real magic.'

We fanned out, Andre at point, Debbie and I next.  Frances slippped into place behind Debbie and Carrolton stepped behind me.  Carrolton's attitude towards me was night and day from the crime scene.  She eyed me and the lighted Wildflower as if we were starter plates.  'God, the woman was a sexual barracuda.'   I'd deal with that later.  Right now, I had a Molten Rock Beast to handle. 

We stepped out as one.
 
(click to show/hide)


Edited: Yeah, my system has developed it's own shortcut and keeps posting for me with a click before I'm ready.  Frustrating....
If this isn't Andre, let me know so I can make adjustments...

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Anduriel on April 20, 2008, 12:24:59 AM
Quote
We stepped out as one.

Joey

This would have looked much cooler if Rocky Bal-lava hadn’t flown back into the air, leaving us stranded. Hitting a moving target is hard. Trying to hit a moving target that can fly, whilst you have no projectiles, is just a joke.

“Uh, anybody know what that is?”

“Garathmor.” Was Andre’s reply; as if that should explain everything.

It didn’t.

“A freaking lava demon!?!” Debbie exclaimed as she explained “But only He has access to those…”

“Oh.” Master of linguistics; that’s me.

By this time, the demon was high in the air, and it looked as though another fireball was in the making. Andre cursed loudly.

“I can’t sling spells and protect us at the same time, not enough magic here. Debyone, are you strong?”

“I’ve got enough energy, but… you know I suck at target practice. Plus it’s a demon, aren’t they impervious to magics?”

At that moment Carrolton broke formation and went to the trunk of her SUV.

“I think I may be able to help there.”

When she returned, she was packing an honest to god rocket launcher. I swear.

                                                                ***

Meanwhile

Reza

                              Somewhere on Wildfire

Explanations.

There comes a time in every person’s life, when an explanation is demanded of them; a detailed reasoning as to the results of a certain set of events. It was my turn to make such an explanation. Which is why after Debyone and Andreska departed, I was summoned here; to mount T’orth Kuru.

T’orth Kuru is a grand mountain set deep in the valleys of Londorn. Deep set into this mountain is a maze of catacombs and at the end of one tunnel is a chamber. Now this chamber has seen many a purpose over the eons, first and foremost a door to an inter-dimensional gateway.

There also comes a time in one’s life when you must choose a side, choose your allegiance in the battles to come. There are more forces vying for the worlds than just the emperor. I have chosen my side. And now I must pay my dues.

She was already here before I arrived at the mountain. She had been waiting for me, though I could not see Her.

A chilling voice rang throughout the cavern. Feminine, a voice one could feel as much as hear, it was as sweet as it was foreboding.

“You know why you have been summoned here, child of Wildfire?”

“I do.”

“Then let us begin.”

I had told Mr Gardner that either way, whatever the outcome; I would win.

I had lied.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: meg_evonne on April 22, 2008, 06:35:44 PM
Anduriel said they wouldn't post more of Reza until we got more of the fight going...more please?

"When she returned, she was packing an honest to god rocket launcher. I swear."  Anduriel Joey thread.

The Molten Beast overhead was huge, as in block out the sun huge.  With slow intentness, it formed a glowing green bowling ball of energy.  In our formation we made a good impression of bowling pins.  As Carrolton raced to her car, Debbie called up her air power and lofted skywards, hands extended overhead with her cannon weapon.  I heard the whoom sounds again.  Debbie shot up under the Beast's front legs, twisting in her ascent as she reappeared under the things chest and pumped cannon rounds into the area beneath the Beast's exposed throat near its head. 

The Beast roared and the energy ball fell from its front paws to the ground nearby.  We ducked bits of flying ashpalt made by it's new crator.  Debbie, soared on past the head of the Beast, barely escaping it's snapping jaws.  That's when Carrollton, on one knee beside me, let loose with the rocket launcher's payload.  Rounds blasted through the Beast's chest.  It roared one last time and fell dead to the ground with an earth shaking thud.  Andre, who had been directly underneath it, leaped for safety and used an energy shield to shove it's head back away from us and the car.  Debbie lowered back to the ground.  Then we stood staring at the dead Beast. 

There was a loud chain reaction of brakes and horn honking as cars that had been behind us slowed to a halt or continued on past us with gawking heads turned to the Beast.  As luck would have it a news van pulled up near the Beast's tail.  A short red haired camera woman leaped out with her camera rolling.  Andre ducked his head down, hiding his face from the camera, and Debbie turned away just as quickly hurrying back to Frances' car. 

I was left looking like a deer caught in the headlights of the new media circus.  Carrolton rushed up to me, handed me the rocket launcer.  "Put it back in the back of the SUV.  I'll handle the camera crew."  She pulled out her ID, different from the one I'd seen her flash at the crime scene, and I heard her say she was with NSA from the US.  Frances joined her with his ID from Interpol. 

I put the rocket launcher back in the SUV.  Several of the gawking drivers pulled out their cellphone cameras and started snapping photos.  I looked down at Wildflower, it was back to Star Wars mode.  "Great."  I mumbled as I headed over to Debbie who opened the car door and made room for me inside.  I don't know where Andre went, but he was gone, vanished, whatever he can do.  "I can see the promos now, 'Star Wars fan wipes out pre-historic flying dinosaur.  News at 6.'   I want a hat like Andre's to hide behind." 

I hoped the Beast would fade into nothingness, but it just lay there, dead. Evidence for anyone that things existed that weren't supposed to be there.  "Geez, flying dragon attacks vehicles on local street."

Debbie didn't look pleased as she concurred.  "This one isn't going to be swept under the carpet.  Magic has been found--alive and well on Earth.  What do you think will happen now, Joey?" 

I shook my head and tried to imagine what I would have thought if someone started showing pictures of flying dragons on the news.  "Debbie, I don't have the slightest idea."



Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on July 30, 2008, 02:18:23 AM
Quote
Debbie didn't look pleased as she concurred.  "This one isn't going to be swept under the carpet.  Magic has been found--alive and well on Earth.  What do you think will happen now, Joey?" 

I shook my head and tried to imagine what I would have thought if someone started showing pictures of flying dragons on the news.  "Debbie, I don't have the slightest idea."

There wasn't much we could do. We were surrounded by a force far scarrier than the armed guards of Wildfire or wizard-turned-spider-monsters of the Emperor: the American media. All around me there large, black machines that could only be cameras. They obscured the faces of the cameramen, making them seem like strange alien probes instead of people.

Though...if the cameras were the alien probes...the men and women in sleek business suits and slick hair were the alien ambassadors hassleing you in some bizzare greeting custom in a language unlike anything you've ever heard.

Andre...was visably suffering. Even though the majority of his face was obscured by his hat, I could see the hard clench to his jaw. He was a carreer thief; staying to the shadows had kept him alive for centuries. His proffession was the very definition of 'low-key'. It had to be killing him to have all of that attention on him.

Debbie was doing considerably better, much to my suprise. As we forced our way through the crowed of reporters she was right beside me the entire way. Occasionally her spitfire nature shown through, and she would shove her hand in the face of a camera that got too close. Once she even pushed hard enough to send the cameraman sprawling back into a collection of his fellows.

Frances was still suffering from head trauma. He stumbled through the crowd following Andre. I'm not even sure he still knew what was going on.

Carrolton handled it like a pro. Giving orders and the most beaurocratic bull I had ever heard about an escaped mutant, one in a trillion thing, it would never happen again, nothing to worry about folks, blah, blah, blah.

My senses returned to me again about the time I crawled into the big SUV Carrolton had called for us. Normally I dislike those ridicules, huge cars, but in this particular case I was happy to crawl into the behemoth with tinted windows. We all crawled in, everything got quiet as the doors closed and the driver went about trying to drive though the crowed of people that had gathered.

Debbie was the first to break the silence, "...Well, I think we can all join hands in a collective 'oh shit'."

I glanced back and Andre, "Didn't you teach her better than to use language like that."

"I used your modern parenting methods of self-reliance," He quipped back. "But Mr. Gardner, you are a walking 'oh shit' you know that?"

I glanced back at Debbie, whispering, even though I had to lean across Andre to get to her, "Why is he calling me 'Mr. Gardner'? I think I recal saving his ass?"

Debbie leaned over too, so we met halfway across Andre, she whispered too, "He's still angry about the hand."

Jeez...you miss the power limiting bangle just once and you're marked for life. "He grew it back."

Andre, finally seeming to get fed up with my very adult and not in the least bit juevanile behavior, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back, "You're breath smells like rotten eggs."

"You little-" I began, before realizing the other adults in the car were staring at me.

Carrolton 'ahemed' from her seat opposite us, and turned her attention to Andre. "So, do you mind telling me what that thing was?"

Andre leaned back in his chair, "It was a low-level demon." He leaned foreward for effect. "And notice how I say, 'low level'. As in, if you think that's bad, wait till you see what's coming." He eyed the crowd around the SUV, "Although. You'll excuse me if I don't feel inclined to talk under such pathetically insecure conditions?"

Carrolton smiled a business woman's smile, "Naturally-Driver, take us to Mr. Clapp's apartment."

"It's Capp." I insisted childishly. Somehow I felt that between Andre acting like a snot, and Carrolton acting like a snob, that this was going to be a very long night
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on July 31, 2008, 01:56:58 PM
Carrolton smiled a business woman's smile, "Naturally-Driver, take us to Mr. Clapp's apartment."

"It's Capp." I insisted childishly. Somehow I felt that between Andre acting like a snot, and Carrolton acting like a snob, that this was going to be a very long night.

I wasn't disappointed either, but not for the reasons I thought it would seem long.

When we all got to my apartment we took turns cleaning up in the single bath.  Finding, once again, no food - I started to order pizza, then made the mistake of asking other people what they wanted.  Debbie wanted vegie, I wanted pepperoni, Frances was hoping for a supreme and Sarah wanted meat lovers.

We ordered Chinese.

When the doorbell rang, I immediately assumed that the delivery guy forgot something, but when I opened the door I found a shortish heavy woman with wavy brown hair who seems to expand to someone twice her girth below the waist.

"Hi" she said pleasantly when I opened the door, "I'm Amy, you must be the new flower power"

I looked back into the apartment for a minute in surprise.  The description seemed to be derogetory on it's face but the tone in which she said it made it, simply a statement of fact.

"I'm Joey...uh...Yeah.  And you must be..." I thought of several words to describe her and none of them were complimentary.

"I am one of the First on earth" she said pleasantly and motioned that she would like to be let into our gathering.  I shrugged and stepped aside to let her in.

"The First what?"I asked, trying to sound intelligent.

The rest of the gathering greeted her by name as if they knew her and I felt a little better about letting her in.

She gave a general 'Hello' and turned back to me.  "The first wizard of earth." she saw something on the table she liked and picked up a container and some chopsticks. " If Earth is no longer the furthest world from the center then magic is going to start cropping up all over.  I'm the first one that has shown the kind of power you see on other worlds in wizards, or shaman or whatever you want to call them."

Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on July 31, 2008, 09:39:38 PM
Quote
She gave a general 'Hello' and turned back to me.  "The first wizard of earth." she saw something on the table she liked and picked up a container and some chopsticks. " If Earth is no longer the furthest world from the center then magic is going to start cropping up all over.  I'm the first one that has shown the kind of power you see on other worlds in wizards, or shaman or whatever you want to call them."

Andre and Debbie looked up, and exchanged glances as Amy greeted Frances and Carrolton. I was glad I wasn't the only one who still had no idea what the hell was going on. I was glad, that was, until Debbie stood up frantically and looked Amy up and down.

Amy just stood there, looking at Debbie like she had two heads. She glanced at Frances, "Is she human?"

"No," Debbie growled, "She's a wizard just like you. And no no no no no no NO!" Debbie met Amy's eyes, "You're a wizard." She whirled around to Andre, "She's a wizard! Earth's development shouldn't be that far...developed!"

Panic seemed to set in to all the people in the room who weren't savvey to what she was saying. Carrolton spoke first, "So, you're saying that earth is developing faster than it's supposed to? Is that bad?"

Debbie whirled on her, "You tell me. How will the masses of this planet respond when thousands of people suddenly have magical powers? How did they react in the middle ages when they THOUGHT thousands of people had magical powers? I've read X-Men, and I've read about the Inquisition. It. Will. End. Badly. You humans aren't nearly mature enough as a race to handle that kind of thing."

"I'll ignore the 'you humans' bit," Carrolton's eyes narrowed. "What do you suggest we DO about it? Our resources are already stretched to the max."

Debbie didn't like it when people she didn't like got that closer to her, "Just what is 'YOUR resources', hmm?"

Debbie had a point on that. Carrolton had told everybody she was there for an insurance company, but I think at this point we could all drop that little fantasy. But still...Gah. A catfight. I felt like banging my head against a wall. Debbie...had a temper, and I realise now why she was never afraid to get into a confrontation with random people in the street. She could twitch her nose and turn them into dust. Thankfully, it seems that one of Amy's talents was to nullify conflicts. I didn't even notice her mumbling a spell under the veil of her Chow Mein. A strange light enveloped Debbie and Carrolton. Debbie looked at her, with a smile that seemed fake, as if she was trying to be angry but couldn't. "You used an...emotional binding spell on me?"

Amy's eyes widened, "That's what it's called? Then, yes." She got a sort of far-off look on her face, "I don't like when people fight."

Andre looked curious. I was expecting some kind of a quip, but he spoke gently, "Isn't that ironic? An empath that specializes in canceling out sour emotions in people. You're very lucky Ms. Amy, most empaths go crazy." He sighed, "Although...I did wish you would be another combat wizard. Especially with what's to come."

I did not like the sound of that. A part of me knew that Andre and Debbie wouldn't have come to this world just to save my ass. Debbie might, but not Andre. Inside I suppose I had already known that the Situation Was Bad. Still, it sucked to have it confirmed by the dark tone in his voice. I sat down in front of him on the coffee table and met his shaded green eyes, "What's to come?"

He motioned to the large, old book he was holding. It looked like one of those spellbooks in those MMORPGs. But there was an eloquent script that I didn't recognize. It was all lines, like Sanscit, with thick and over exageratted lines and dots like medival Latin letters. He flipped through the book and everybody gathered around. "I had a hunch, so I did some research on the beastie we killed earlier."

"What 'we'?" Carrolton asked, she was ignored as Andre flipped to a page with what looked like a rought black and white painting of the Lava monster.

"Garathmor," Andre read allowed as his finger traced the name. "I remember hearing horror stories about them as a child. How, during the Age of Demons, they ran rampant on the world, feeding on magical energies to sustain their own lives. They served great Demon Overlords, who feared giving magical power to humans. They stamped it out wherever they could, when they weren't going to war against each other, that is."

"Age of Demons?" I asked, that sounded bad.

It was bad. Debbie explained, "The age in which demons ruled the innermost world, and by extention all worlds surrounding it."

Andre continued, "But after the Age of Demons, when powerful wizards began to rise against the Overlords, they lost most of their power. For ages we picked them off whenever we found them. Garathmor are relatively weak in comparison to the other things around, especially without their Overlords to protect them."

Carrolton was the first to catch on, "And it took a rocket launcher to kill ours..."

"One point to that lady. It was strong. I felt the strain against my shield when it attacked. I shouldn't feel the strain unless-"

I can be smart when I need to, I understood with a sudden moment of terror, "-Unless it had an Overlord to protect it."

Andre rubbed a hand through the side of his blond locks, not disrupting his hat, "Yes. But the problem is, the Overlords were destroyed thousands of years ago. They're EXTINCT. Which means one of three things is happening." He raised a hand, and numbered off the different scenarios, "In order of what would be best for us: Setting 1, the wizards missed an Overlord all those millenia ago. It's been in hiding, gathering power, and waiting for a weak world in its magical infancy to show up and crate a new Demonic Age on that world. Setting 2, the theory has been discussed that the reason Earth is suddenly excellerating in its development is that there is another world coming to life on the outside, forcing Earth in. If that world is...something else, another primordial soup of spiritual energies, another Center world, then the Demonic Age could simply be starting again and bleeding into this world. Setting 3, last but definatly worse, is that magic, demons, monsters, is all bleeding into Earth from beyond the other worlds, but also from time and space."

Debbie looked shocked, and I felt a sick feeling rise in my stomach as I asked, "Why is that last? It doesn't sound the worst..." I was trying to convince myself."

Andre continued, "That isn't supposed to happen. Some higher beings can travel through time, but for a creature from one time to bleed across the boundaries of another time...it's not supposed to happen. There are walls, FAILSAFES, set up to prevent that. If this is what's going on then that means something far more terrible than a new Demonic Age on Earth or Earth becoming the battleground for a clash of titans, it means the walls are breaking down."

"Well?" I said impatiently, even as the fearful bile rose in my stomach, "How do we stop it?"

Debbie reached out for my hand, "That's just it. We can't. If the walls of the universe are fading then...there's nothing we can do about it."

Everyone stayed quiet for a long time.

I was ready to fight demons, monsters, palace guards, emperors, floating clouds of gas. But if it was as bad as Andre was saying, this would be an enemy that I couldn't fight. It scared me, and I suddenly realized how, although the things I had fought up until that point scared the crap out of me, I would have given anything to have one of them. To have something I could trade blows with instead of just sit around waiting for the end of the world.

Then I considered Andre's other two, better options, both of which seemed pretty damned dismal.

Debbie was right, this called for a collective 'oh shit'.

Oh shit.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on August 29, 2008, 08:45:21 PM
Quote
Debbie was right, this called for a collective 'oh shit'.

Oh shit.

AN: I'm sorry to double-post, it's just been a while since anybody posted on this, and I kinda wanted to write something for these guys and hopefully get somthing going again! So, here goes! Continuing the "meanwhile, Reza" lines that Anduriel started.

Reza

Reza wrapped the furs tighter around herself as she decended into the cave. It seemed as if the temperature had dropped the second she entered...Usually magic generated some heat, even ice-centered spells resulted in a slight rise in temperature outside of the effected area.

Not here. Never here. The wraiths of the dead were not meant to be warm.

All around her, she felt them. They reached out cold, ghostly hands to touch her as if she were a holy savior decending into their hell. Occasionally one was corporeal enough for her to feel a corpse-hand run down her leg. But she was concerned with larger spectors. The closer she got to the bottom of the cave the more she felt it.

Raw power. Coming from a creature pratically made of nothing else. And Reza knew that She had put great spells in place to control the impact of her magic on visitors...and still Reza felt the pressure weighing down on her. What a magnificent being.

Eventually, she saw the faint glow of red firelight at the end of the tunnel. The darkness slowly became a bloody red glow, and the wraiths that had been following her crept backward. Warmpth was not meant for the dead, and neither was light. It was their curse, to be lacked all things of life except the memories of it.

The tunnel she entered was filled with rings of the red fire.  Calmly she stepped over each of them. 81 in total. She didn't worry about touching it, in a place like this, even the fire lacked warmpth.

She entered a great hallway. It must have one point been a part of some citadel or the center of an empire. Now it was buried by the millenia beneath the sand and rock, forgotten by all but a few.

The accursed few.

Reza was never a religious woman, but here...she felt like making the Sign Against Evil, even though she knew the creatures here were not evil. No matter how they came across, no matter how She came across...they were not evil. They were driven by the needs of the universe. Sometimes this resulted in the pain of lower beings. Reza knew this, and it was what kept her from making the Sign.

At the end of the great hall...Reza found Her. She sat on a throne of cold marble carved from the same piece of rock as the wall behind it. It was large, and carved with endless circles and incantations meant to keep Her power in check.

She was not so impressive herself. A girl who looked no more than her teens was not what Reza expected every time she decended to the Hall of Ancients. Her eyes and hair were black, her skin the same caramel color as Reza's. Her dress was black, and in the style of the Earth medieval, with sleeves dropping all the way to the floor.

"Child of Wildflower," when She spoke, Reza felt the urge to run. "You know why you have been summoned here?"

"I do," Reza answered.

"You did not try to run?"

"Why run when there is nowhere to hide?"

She seemed pleased with Reza's answer. At least as pleased as she could be. "And I take it that you understand the consequences of your actions."

"Of course."

She rose from her seat, "The Universe is in chaos. I feel it. The turmoil and pain wrapping around all things like a dark blanket." She rose from her seat. "I will give you one chance to explain yourself, Child of Wildfire, before I cast judgment."

"I did not throw all things into chaos for personal power if that's what you're implying. I know better than that." Reza sighed, "Things needed to change. The Emperor was not fit to rule. He needed to be forced from power. The resulting turmoil was not my intention. I had thought that the Essence of the Emperor would pass to his son the moment he was gone, thereby keeping universal balance."

The woman on the throne nodded, listening carefully, "I understand. I truly do. But the Emperor is an important part of the Balance maintained between worlds. You gambled, and it may result in the end of all things. Whatever you're intentions, I cannot let a single being get away with taking such risks."

Reza nodded, bowing her head. She had known this would come from the beginning. It was the cost of her dream. "I accept my punishment, Your Majesty."

Slowly rising and descending from the throne. The carvings glowed with the same red fire-light Reza had seen in the hallway leading to the Great Hall. As She walked down the steps, each lighting up with the same powerful carvings.

All the while, Reza felt as if the pressure behind her eyes would force it's way out through her forehead. Standing so close to Her made Reza's skin burn and her lungs gasp for air. It forced her to her knees.

"I, Queen Among the Dead and Living sentence you, Reza of Wildfire, to the Land of Wraiths. There you shall remain for all eternity. Your torment shall be to watch the lines of the suffering dead grow, all because of your actions." She raised a hand and Reza forced her eyes shut.

The magic slammed into her with the force of a runaway golem. Picking her up by the chest and hurling her across the length of the Great Hall. She contacted the marble, seperating her shoulder joints. She slid along the marble as the magic pulled her closer to her end. Inside, she felt her body become numb, touch, sight, taste, hearing all faded into a muffled darkness. She screamed, a single, wordless cry of failure. But then...

She stopped. The magic stopped. hovering just an inch from the hallway now consumed by red fire.

It took her a moment to realize that it hadn't dragged her into the depths of the Wraiths' land.

The Queen Among the Dead and Living walked towards her, slowly. Across the great hall it took much time for her to reach Reza. She wasn't one for rushing things. She came to Reza, and placed a cool hand on Reza's forehead. Suddenly, the pain subsided, and her senses returned to her.

"I am," the Queen spoke, "granting you temporary leave of this sentence. Fix it, however you can. If you fail, or if you die in the process, remember what awaits you. And if you succeed...keep in mind that not all will be forgiven, but your sentence will be lessened. Now go, Reza of Wildfire, mend the whirlwind you have sewn."
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on August 31, 2008, 02:12:55 AM
Then I considered Andre's other two, better options, both of which seemed pretty damned dismal.
Debbie was right, this called for a collective 'oh shit'.
Oh shit.

Amy didn't seem as phased and kept eating Chow Mein for a few seconds more as she looked around the room expectantly, then sighed getting everyone's attention.  "I know I'm new to this, but some of you have known me for years..." She looked pointedly at Frances, "...and know I'm not inclined to participate in panic or conflict.  For what ever reason we have 'other worldly' influences breaking through to this world and, in our favor, a large group of the people of this world will soon be coming into power that they didn't know they had." She paused sucking something out of her teeth, "all we have to do is find them and begin to secure against the powers that are coming."

Debbie blinked, "All we have to do?  That could take years and if things are starting to ...get into this world now, we don't have time."

Carrolton seemed to pick up the idea though, "If wizards are developing as fast as the things coming in -as sort of a compensation -then the people who are the most powerful will be almost overwhelmed.  They should be easy to find."

Andrea jumped in with a more cautious note, "If they are being overwhelmed with power they don't understand they may go mad and add to the chaos before they realize what is going on."  He turned to look at Amy who was picking her teeth with a little fingernail, "You worked with Frances's governmental division for years as an adept before coming into this power didn't you?"

Amy stopped picking her teeth to rejoin the conversation, "Yeah, in fact this increased power just came to me a few weeks ago, I thought it was because of some practice I had done or some power that was seeping through from another world but when I pull on it, it comes from here, and I can pull a lot more than I ever could before.  I also have an innate sense of what needs to be done, a direction that we need to go to survive.  That's why I'm here.  Did you all think I happened along by accident?"

Frances seemed vaguely amused by this, "No, I thought someone at the office told you, and you came to lend a hand." he gestured to the world outside the closed verticle blinds that we couldn't see, "we couldn't exactly keep that fight on the freeway quiet."

Amy chuckled, "Yeah, that was a mess.  Well I'm here now, and we have a desperate situation that is coming at us quickly how do you all want to do this?  Oh wait, " she interrupted, before anyone could answer, "lets have introductions all around, just so we know what we are working with."

Everyone nodded reluctantly with more than a few glances at other parties in the room.  Amy looked around to make sure everyone was on board, "I'll start.  My name is Amy Aubrence and I am an agent of the Supernatural Happenings International Team, division of Interpol " she waved off Frances who was about to correct her, "I know, that's the joke name for the division, I'm also one of the first of three native Wizards here on earth." 

Andrea snorted his laugh and the name even got a smirk out of Debbie, I didn't get it for a minute then I realized what the acronym would be for the joke name.  Amy gestured at Carrolton who looked like she would rather bite someone then talk to the group.

"My name is Carrolton and I represent interests of those of us who are of mixed heritage residing here on earth."  Amy nodded at the women as teacher would a star pupil, "See that wasn't so hard."  She gestured at Frances, "Go ahead Frances."

"I'm Frances from Interpol," he gave Amy a withering look, "and ex-wildflower bonded." 

Amy ignored his look and turned to gesture at me.  At this point I hadn't slept in too long and my sense of absurdity got the best of me.

"Hi, My name is Joey, and I'm an addict." That got everyone's attention, "No, no, I'm just kidding. I'm Joey and I'm the new Wildflower bound."  Geez, one possible universe splintering discovery and everyone loses their sense of humor.

Andrea shook his head and pointedly ignored me. Sometimes I really dislike that guy.  He gestured to get everyone's attention, "Andre, wizard of Wild Fire," he gestured to Debbie, "This is my Daughter Debbyone.  Now that we know who everyone is - how are we going to find the earth wizards."

Everyone looked to Amy for an answer but I shocked everyone in the room, including myself, as the answer came to me through my connection with the Wildflower.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Qualapec on September 07, 2008, 06:14:58 AM
Quote
Everyone looked to Amy for an answer but I shocked everyone in the room, including myself, as the answer came to me through my connection with the Wildflower.

The soft, subtle energy thrummed through me, steadying my rampant thoughts and easing the anxiety in my chest. It didn't so much carry the idea with it, but it allowed me a moment of meditation to ponder.

"Amy's the First Wizard on Earth, from Earth, right?" I asked.

Amy nodded. "That's what I feel. I mean, I'm new at this so I could be wrong, but...that's the general consensus."

I turned to Andre. "And wizards get more powerful the older they get?"

Andre shook his head. "Not necessarily, it depends on the person. But yes, that's generally how it happens."

I nodded like I was listening to him intently and using the information to form a brilliant plan in my head. Wouldn't you know it? For the first time that brain of mine really was working. Really. It was. "So, that means that you, Debbie and myself are the only real defence earth has against supernatural baddies. It's already been decided that the wizards of Earth need to be looked out for, but we can't do that. It would be like the Justice League catching street thugs instead of stopping the big freakin' meteor plumetting towards the planet. However, we can't just let the wizards come into their power by themselves."

This was it, my moment of brilliant glory. The one time since I'd taken on the Wildflower that I had an actual plan.

I opened my mouth to tell everyone how clever I was.

And freaking Andre took the freaking words right out of my freaking mouth.

"Alright, here's the plan. We contact Humbert and his people to help with the selection and training process, while Debbie, I, and..." he paused, and his mouth made an odd motion as if it made him sick to say it, "Mr. Gardner, will try to get to the bottom of the disturbance."

Debbie gave him a smile that should have been mine, "That's a great idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it!" She looked up at me. "Joey, I know you guys have been antagonistic in the past, but I really think you could learn from the old man here."

...and still, the night managed to get worse.
Title: Re: Writers round table
Post by: Kristine on September 09, 2008, 04:20:54 AM
Debbie gave him a smile that should have been mine, "That's a great idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it!" She looked up at me. "Joey, I know you guys have been antagonistic in the past, but I really think you could learn from the old man here."

...and still, the night managed to get worse.

Suddenly I wanted to shoot holes in my own plan.  Childish, I know, but I just couldn't stop myself, "I think Humbert and his crew will draw as much attention as the Demons."

Andrea and Debbie looked at me as if I had wet myself, "I think they can do magical disguises better than that" Debbie said as if talking to an idiot.  Okay, yes, that was probably true...

"I..." What?  It was a perfectly good plan that I had thought of first and if is saved the world was I willing to be that petty? "I think Frances's people in interpol should help them out - that way there is someone from this plane to help them with official stuff."  Almost. My self-respect breathed a sigh of relief.

Andrea waved his hand as if shooing flies, "I guess if you think something like that would be necessary."

I was about to try to think of other things to add to show how clever I could be first (and to appease the tantrum throwing child within me) when a small amount of energy from Wild Flower flowed through me and I had the sudden insight that, with his dismissal of my logical suggestion, the child inside Andrea was doing a heady pout as well.  I had forgotten that he and Debbie had not been close until just recently and my pointing out flaws in his plan might not be looked on as suggestions for better saving the universe.

"Yeah, it would be a good idea if nothing else than to keep other agencies at bay." Frances responded, completely unaware of the two little boys playing king-of-the-hill.  He looked over at Carrolton, "anybody in the 'mixed heritage' crowd wanna volunteer to help save the world?"

Carrolton seemed to consider for an instant, "Some, I'm sure will leave and try to find a safer plane to hide on.  Some will help though.  Nothing like being a mentor to a native wizard for helping your political causes."

Suddenly her help didn't sound like such a good idea.