Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Posting

Wow, I just realized that I've almost made as many posts this month than I did in 2005, and I've already done more than I did in 2006. I guess having stories to write, and the dedication to write them, has helped.

Of course, wanting a reason to write is always good. I've got lots of ideas in my head, and I guess this is as good a place as any to let them out.

Delving 101 - Chapter 5

Zeb and Jody were fully prepared for their delve, thought each in their own way. Jody looked at Zeb, then at the door in front of them. They were in the white room, and Professor Torbin was sitting at the desk behind them. Jody uneasily shifted her weight back and forth from her left to her right foot. Zeb was calmer, but only because he was making sure all his equipment was strapped on tight.

As Zeb adjusted his buckler for the fifth time, Professor Trobin cleared his throat. Both Jody and Zeb turned their heads, to look back at him over their shoulders.

"You will be timed, and judged on your success. As you both know, the test, being your midterm, will be a live fire exercise," the dwarf explained. "Your goal is to collect the Scroll of Fire from the temple at the end of the complex."

He paused, and then the paused stretched into silence.

Jody cleared her throat. "Professor," she began, then looked at Zeb, who nodded, "We're ready."

Torbin smiled, "Good luck."

Then room plunged into darkness, the only illumination a faint glow coming from the crack under the door.

"Let's do this," Zeb said in the darkness. He then drew his sword, which was longer and broader in the blade than Rob's. As he drew it, the room lit up, his sword shining like a torch. Unlike moments before, the room did not have plain white walls and a dwarf behind a desk. Instead, it had rough hewn stone walls, and was open behind them to a forest at night. Ahead of them, instead of the ordinary doors, were a pair of ornately carved stone doors. He held the sword in one hand high above his shoulder, so as to cast the light down and out in front of them.

Jody pulled her axe from it's ring on her belt and twirled it slightly in her right hand as she advanced in front of Zeb to the door. She reached out with her left hand, which was wearing a supple leather glove with a chain mail back. She knelt down and examined the door with her left hand. Unlike it's previous appearance, it didn't have any handles.

"So," asked Zeb, walking up behind her. He kept the sword high so as to keep the light fully on the door, rather than allow shadows to obscure any potential clues. "What've we got?

"Typical vault doors. Probably six inches thick, barred, not locked," she replied. She stood, then stepped to the side. "After you."

Zeb smiled, and stepped forwards. He rested his left hand against the doors, then slowly slid his sword between thhem. He slowly and carefully lifted the sword all the way up to the frame, then brought it back down. It stopped about three feet off the ground. "This is too easy." He then changed his stance, grasped the sword with both hands, and then lifted the sword up and almost all the way out from between the doors, keeping just the tip between them. He then grunted, bent his knees, and brought the sword quickly down, grunting against as it dug into the bolt on the other side of the door. He then tested the success of his attempt by pulling up on the sword. It was much heavier than when it came down. "Ah, got it."

Jody, who was leaning against the side of the entrance with her legs crossed at the ankle and her arms across her chest, stood and tested the door as Zeb continued to lift the bolt with effort. Once he had it lifted by a foot, the doors began to swing in. Zeb stepped forwards with his sword held in both hands, his right on the grip of the hilt, his left grasping the blade at the surface of the door, following the right side door and rotating himself, and the bolt, to follow the swing.

Jody looked down the corridor as Zeb extricated his sword from the bolt. "So, you'd never know this place had already been delved three times already today."

"And it'll be delved again once we're done with it," commented Zeb as he advanced down the corridor. Every twenty feet, on alternating sides, a flickering torch was placed in a sconce. He stepped carefully, not knowing if there was a pressure switch or trip wire along the corridor.

Jody was less careful, and passed Zeb in the corridor, twirling her axe in her fingers. When Zeb scowled at her as she passed she stopped, "What?"

"Hello? Dungeon? Could be traps," he sarcastically said.

"Zeb, this is an entrance and exit corridor. It's not going to be trapped, since it would be illogical to disable every trap along the way and able it once you were past it. Once we're at the temple proper, and going into a lower traffic area, then we'll have to worry about traps."

Zeb slackened from his cautious stance, leaning his still glowing sword on his right shoulder plate, "Did Mary tell you there wasn't any traps along here?"
Jody looked horrified, and took a defiant stance, "How dare you_ We talked general strategy. And anyway, Professor de Lana

told us all about the logic of places like this. It isn't just a bunch of disparate monsters, savages, and traps. Every delve has a reason for being, whether it's and old Imperial stockpile, to a pre-fall mine, to the ruins of a city. Sure, there's going to be structural traps, and occasionally there will be traps or monsters placed as defensive measures on rarely accessed passages, but never on a main entrance."

Zeb raised his left arm up in surrender, "Whoa, whoa. Sorry. I get enough lectures in class. I don't need another one from you."

Jody glared at Zeb, then turned to look down the corridor, "Come on, we're wasting time. And anyway, we've got a temple to rob."

Zeb smiled, lifted his sword from his shoulder, and followed her down the corridor, "That's the spirit."

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 4

The broken asphalt of the bailey crunched beneath his feet as he walked away from the shade and into the light. He could hear the tink tink of the smiths along the west side of the keep, as well as the rumble of the mill to his left, in the middle of the bailey. He looked around to make sure no one was coming over to talk to him, then turned towards the gate, which was just west of the mill, and broke into a jog.

As he covered the hundred feet or so, he thought back to when he was beginning his job as quartermaster, back when the fort was still being established. It was a pre-war building, and he had been a fairly regular customer. In fact, he was here when the founders secured the fort the day of the invasion.

He stopped about halfway between the keep and the gate, and looked around. As he compared the landmarks he nodded and talked to himself, “Yeah, it was just about here. I was loading up my truck, probably with bottled water and dog food. And then they just rolled up like they owned the place.” He chuckled, “Well, in a way, they did.”



Robert hefted the twenty-four pack of bottle water from the flatbed into the bed of his truck, then pushed it forwards into the bed of the truck. He turned to pick up the twenty pound bag of dog food when he stopped.

Half bent over he looked over the back side of the flatbed and saw half a dozen vehicles drive into the parking lot one, right after, the other. He stood, pushing his hat up to wipe his forehead, using the action to get a better look at the trucks entering the lot.

The lead truck was a black, late model SUV with tinted windows and a whole slew of antennas along it’s roof and rear bumper. Behind it was a black passenger van, fifteen passengers at least, also with as many antennas as the SUV in front of it. The SUV turned and headed for the store entrance, stopping on the concrete in front of the main doors. The Van turned the opposite direction and parked parallel to the street in the second row of parking spaces.

Behind the van was a utility truck, but it wasn’t from any of the local utilities, as it was painted black like the others, and had it’s own complement of antennas. It followed the SUV up to the front entrance and parked just past it, next to the liquor store entrance.

Behind the cherry-picker truck was a pair of moving trucks, black with antennas. They both parked behind the van. The final truck to enter the parking lot was a semi pulling a flatbed loaded with construction vehicles. Robert identified a pair of Bobcat skid loaders, a backhoe, and an extendable fork lift.

Robert stood in awe as the semi pulled past the van and moving trucks, and consequently right past him and his little flatbed before pulling around and stopping between the other vehicles and the road.

“What the?” was all Robert could say before all the doors opened, and his world changed.

In less than five seconds twenty-seven men and women exited the half-dozen vehicles. They were all dressed alike, from their black combat boots, to their side arms, to the MP5s hung across their chests. They also wore black balaclavas with sunglasses and radio headsets.

The four occupants, three men and a woman, of the SUV and the mixed pair from the cherry picker began working at the entrance, setting up some sort of command point from the back of the SUV. From what Robert could tell from his angle, the back of the SUV was set up with at least a dozen flat-screen monitors.

A second group, consisting of the mixed pairs from the moving trucks and the semi as well as five from the van, began working to off-load the semi and the contents of both trucks. Robert would have paid more attention to them, if it wasn’t for the actions of the final group.

The actions of the final group were unified only in that the pairs were doing the same thing in different parts of the parking lot. Robert remarked to himself that the pairs, heck the whole lot of them, were surprisingly mixed given the obvious offensive nature of the whole operation. The ten that remained split into five groups and spread out from the van out among the sparse cars of the lot.

As Robert watched the pair coming towards him, he thought that it was rather odd how little cars were actually in the lot itself. He looked around and quickly counter less than two dozen, all of them with people by them. He then looked behind him, to the highway that the store was so conveniently placed near, and saw the on-ramps clogged full of cars. It seemed that the noise barrier was doing a spectacularly good job, as only as he paid attention did he notice the cacophony of honks and horns coming from the interstate.

“What the?” he said, repeating his earlier cryptic exclamation. He was about to make a wise-ass comment when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around and saw the pair that had been approaching him had finally made it while he was gawking at the traffic.

“Sir?” asked the one on the left. She was taller than Robert by about an inch, and had removed her sunglasses. Her partner beside her took a much more offensive posture, with his right hand resting on the grip of his MP5.

“What?” asked Robert, partly annoyed and partly bewildered.

“Sir,” said the one of the right. Unlike his partner, his was not in an inquisitive fashion.

“We’ll need you to come with us sir,” his partner added. She turned slightly and gestured to the store itself, he brilliant blue eyes looking to the entrance, and then back to Robert before he head could follow.

“What?” stammered Robert. He took a half-step back and nearly fell into the back of his pickup. “What are you doing here?”

“Sir, we’re here for your protection,” said the one on the right, his hand gripping the MP5 more intensely. “As my partner said, we need you to come with us. We have to get you inside.”

“Why?”

“Sir, there’s a situation. We’re here to help, but to help you, we need you to cooperate,” she said. Even though only her eyes were exposed, Robert got the impression that she was trying to be nice, but that he was trying her patience.

“Okay, just let me…” Robert began.

The man reached out and grabbed Robert’s arm, “No, we need you to move now. We have to secure the site, and we can’t do that until you’re inside.”

Robert tried to protest, tried to rip his arm out of the other man’s grip, but it was no use. So, he relented and began to walk towards the store entrance, the man letting him go as he cooperated.

“Thank you sir,” said his partner, the smile on her face evident in her tone.

“It’s Robert.”

“Well, thank you Robert. I’m Jessica.”

“And him?”

“I’m none of your concern, Bob,” he replied curtly.

“It’s Robert,” growled Robert, obviously used to, and annoyed, but people constantly trying to contract his name.

The man raised his eyebrows above the tops of his sunglasses and tilted his head, wordlessly telling Robert that he didn’t care. The trio quickly got to the entrance, along with a dozen other people and their herder. They milled around aimlessly at the entrance to the store before someone came out. It was the woman who got out of the SUV a few minutes before, though her balaclava was pulled down, allowing her short cropped raven hair to show. She was in her late thirties, the same age as Robert, and hand an air of authority about her.

“Welcome to your new home,” she said, a smile on her face and her arms open wide. “I know this is difficult to understand, but at least for the foreseeable future, you all are going to be staying here.”

The civilians began to murmur, but she stopped them with by clearing her throat. By now the herders had returned with the final store patrons who were in the lot, making for a total of two dozen civilians, ranging in age from twelve to fifty, with Robert’s thirty-eight on the high side of the median.

“You all were, are, very lucky to be here. An hour ago, the improbable, but not unforeseen, event of an invasion occurred. While you were here shopping the entire communications network of the world, from the internet, to the telephone, was shut down by an outside force. This, predictably, caused a great deal of panic. Luckily, the agency I work for had a plan for such an emergency, and within that hour we, my team and I, were sent here to secure this site. We will not run out of food, and in time, you all will be allowed to find and if you want, return with your families. But, as of right now, we need all of you to calmly come inside where it is safe and secure.”

“Who are you?” shouted one of the assembled civilians. Robert couldn’t see the man who asked the question, but the same question was on his mind as well.

“My name is Melissa, and I’m the administrator for this facility. In time, I hope that we can become friends, but for now, I need you to all go inside,” she replied,. She stepped to the side, and the civilians, all two dozen of them, slowly and calmly, entered the store. Robert was the last to go in, and stopped to look Melissa in the eye and ask her a question.

“Who are you, really?”

She looked him over, then smiled. Robert knew that smile, it screamed bureaucracy, “I’m the woman who just saved your life.”

Monday, October 29, 2007

Josefer Martin - Turning Point - Chapter 1

The silence was such that you could, if you were so inclined, or powered, cut it with a knife. The video, which was still playing, had muted when I entered the room, so Mike and I were watching it in silence. A minute or so passed before he turned in his seat, his left arm resting on the top of the cushion.

“You gonna talk, or are we going to sit here all day?”

I mouthed a few words, but nothing came out.

“Yeah, I know. It was a glamour. Zelda popped it off before you and Jess ‘ported in. Allowed me to sneak in here with another glamour, since they were looking for what Zel and I looked like at graduation.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, then spoke up, “Mike, why?”

“Why? You have to ask why? I told you. It’s about proving that I’m better than you. But that’s only half of it,” he looked down and pulled my father’s goggles from inside his jacket, which was not the same flame-motif he wore before, instead it was just a well tailored black sport coat. He whirled them around on his right index finger by the strap, “The real reason? I want you and Jess to work with Zel and I. We make a good team, the four of us. A Gadgeteer Intuit, Pyro Hyper-Genius, Package Deal Psychic Teleporter, and a Mage Manifestor. We could be unstoppable, we will be unstoppable.” He gestured to me, then himself, and then to the screen, which showed his younger self looking first to Jess and then to Zelda on our last mission together last year.

“You know I’m never going to turn. My dad’s a Supe, my mom’s an ADA, Jess’s dad’s an EMT and her mom’s a Supe with dad. It’s the family business.”

“But what business is being a Supe?” he asked, tossing the goggles onto my lap. “The pay is horrible, the government puts loads of restrictions on you, plus you might get called up to serve in Iraq or Afghanistan. Plus, there’s no guarantee that once you and Jess finish college that you’ll stay together, even if you two get married.”

“Married?” I stammered. I hadn’t ever thought that far ahead, thinking more of MIT or CalTech than where Jess and I were going in our relationship.

“Yeah, married. It’s eventually going to happen. You may be an Intuit, but I’m the Genius, I know you better than you know yourself.”

He gestured to the goggles, “It’s a gift. If you ever change your mind, Zel and I’ll be there. But talk to Jess. This is not just your future, but her’s as well.”

I picked up the goggles, but as soon as I did, my limbs went stiff and I couldn’t move.

Mike chuckled, “What, you think I’d let you have it without a price?”

Another chuckle manifested from the shadows at the front of the debriefing room theatre. As she stepped into the light of the projector, I saw that it was Zelda, wearing a stylish yet ordinary black mini-dress, “Toodles Joe. We’ll see you again.”

They both disappeared, and about fifteen seconds later, I was able to move, and the sound returned as well, allowing me to hear the pleading announcement for me to report for a meeting.

As a stood and stuffed the goggles into my backpack only one word came to my lips, “Shit.”

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Alternating Stories

Okay, I'm going to try to alternate my stories (Delving, Costco, and Josefer now that I've re-read year old material and got caught up with my old characters) for a while, just to get into the habit of writing and posting, but also so that I can get some of the ideas out of my head.

Also, I've finally put some of my behind the scenes development of my stories (at least Delving) onto the Net. It's just for me right now, but eventually I'll release the info to the net at large (not that anyone actually reads my stories anyway).

I might not get my stories up as quickly and as regularly as I hope, but I'll at least try. November is NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). I'll be using that as an excuse to write, though this shit will probably never make it into print (unless I someday do a Lulu compilation.

Delving 101 - Chapter 4

Mary, leaving her comment to Rob hanging in the air, slipped into the girl’s locker room. Once she was far enough from the entrance, and was sure that Rob was mouthing off to Zeb in the boy’s locker room next door, she began to talk to herself. “Okay, it’s not that bad. There’s still a away to recover.”

“Mary, you talking to me?” asked a voice hidden by a wall of lockers.

“No Jody, just myself,” replied Mary, as she flung herself around the corner of the locker wall. Like Zeb in the men’s locker room, Jody was sitting in the final row of the locker room. Mary caught herself before she fell, and then strode over to plop herself down next to Mary on the bench.

“So, Rob did the switch thing with the Scroll?” asked Jody as she bent over to tie the straps on her boots. They were flats, but the supple black leather extended all the way up her calf to her knee. Above that, the tight links of chain mail encased her legs until it hid under Jody’s mini-skirt.

“Yeah,” admitted Mary as she picked up Jody’s other boot, which limply sat between her own. Hers were un-dyed leather, and only came to mid-calf, allowing the this fabric of her khakis to flow up her calves, bunch loosely around her knee, and then become ever tighter as it come to her waist. She set the boot on Jody’s mailed thigh, eliciting a light tink.

“Thanks,” said Jody as she grabbed the boot and set it down next to her left foot, to which is belonged. As she tucked a stray strand of her raven hair behind her lightly pointed ear, she leaned back, resting on her right hand extended behind her. “So, what’re we going to do?”

“I’m thinking the only thing we can do,” replied Mary, swinging her pack around her right side, so as to not hit Jody, and then leaning over to look inside.

“What?” asked Jody, as she watched Mary dig in her magical pack just like her partner Rob was doing just a few meters away. Like Rob she pulled out an exact duplicate to the Scroll of Fire Rob had handed to the Professor minutes before.

“Counter-cheat,” stated Mary as she set the Scroll on the bench between them. She reached into the left hip pocket of her khakis, pulling out a tarnished pocket-watch. She popped it open and examined the time. “Okay, we’ve got fifteen minutes until you and Zeb are up.”

Jody carefully picked up the scroll, “So, are you sure you got the right one?”

Mary smiled, held out her left hand in front of her, “Definitely.” Before she finished the fourth syllable, Jody’s chain mail top, which had been sitting in a pile on the floor next to her, was now hanging limply in her out-stretched hand.

“Ah,” said Jody as she set the Scroll back down beside her. “So, now that you’re holding my top, you want to help me put it on? You know how hard the back straps are.”

“Actually,” said Mary as she stood and turned on her left heel, causing the mail the sway back and forth. “I don’t.”

Jody grimaced as she stood, her left foot still next to her left boot, causing her to drop slightly to her left as her weight shifted from her booted right to her stocking left. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I swear, you wizards. It’s bad enough you’ve always got you heads stuck in those books of yours, but do you have to rub the fact that you don’t have to wear armor in the faces of us lowly clerics?”

Mary chuckled as she leaned back against the lockers, “At least you don’t have to rigorously study each and every spell before you can even figure out how to cast it. It’s just a simple hour of prayer every morning, and bam, time to select from the library.”

Jody joined Mary’s chuckle as she returned to the bench and bent back over to put on her boot. “Well, at least you’re smart enough to ace all the other tests. I had to use a comp languages just to understand my algebra.”

“Jody,” chided Mary, a more serious tone in her voice. “You know you’re not supposed to use divine intervention for our classes. That’s cheating. Plus, you know you can always come to me if you have questions about the homework.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, it’s just… Zeb’s always wanting my help in thaumaturgy, the stupid git, and then he’s off sparring with Rob until curfew instead of staying for my tutoring. It’s bad enough he expects me to put out.”

Mary nearly dropped the chain mail, “Wait, Zeb wants you to put out? So does Rob. He’s always insisting that Zeb’s getting some from you, and that if we’re going to ever be a cohesive party after we graduate he’s going to have to trust me. Like sex has anything to do with trust?”

Jody, now about halfway up her calve with her lacing looked up at Mary, “Zeb’s the same way.” She shook her head, “Boys.”

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Okay… wordcounts

Well, I now have three chapters of "flash" fiction, up, and if there's anything I've learned it's the following…

1 - Writing to a budget is hard.
2 - 365 is a very small budget.
3 - Limiting myself to a small budget is hurting, not helping, my writing.

So, I'v decided to continue the Fort Costco and Delving 101 storylines, but in whatever length each installment wants to be.

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 3

Robert grabbed his hat, a wide brimmed suede heat with a tall indented crown, which he had always called his ‘outback’ hat. He set it on his head, and strode towards the door. The door, which was once an automatic sliding glass door, was now a heavily reinforced sliding wood door. He gripped the handle, which was on the left side of the door, with his right hand, and pulled it open.

The bright daylight streamed into the much darker storeroom, and Robert shielded his eyes momentarily with his left hand as they acclimated. He stepped over the threshold and looked around. The area outside the storeroom had once been a portico protecting the entrance from the weather, now it served at the guard for both the storeroom and the main keep, low brick wall funneling people through the checkpoint, and protecting the keep from those who would attack it from within.

Robert nodded to one of the guards as he reached around with his left arm behind his back to close the door he came through. The guard, Selma, nodded to him. She had one of the requisitioned M16s resting on a slight across her chest as she guarded the keep’s portico.

“Hey Bob!” she shouted in greeting.

Robert cringed slightly. He hated being called Bob. He felt that his position warranted more respect than that, not to mention the large gold star sewn upon the chest of his shirt.

“Hey Selma,” he replied with a smile, not letting his aggravation show. “How’s it going today?”

“Well,” she replied, nodding. “Very well.” She nodded at Robert, “So, what with the rifle boss?”

Robert smiled, finally getting the respect he thought, knew, he deserved. “Oh, just searching for something. Might have to leave the Fort, so I thought I’d be prepared.”

Selma raised her eyebrows, “Ah, well, I’ll make sure to tell anyone you’re out if they stop by.”

Robert nodded to her as he began to turn away, “You do that Selma, you do that.” As he stepped out from under the portico his eyes finally adapted to the light, and he looked out upon the bailey. “Twelve years,” he said to himself. “Twelve.”

Friday, October 26, 2007

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 2

Robert paged through the forms, removing all the requisitions, whether open or closed, for M16A2 rifles. There were eighteen from the last year, as far back as he kept records before having to recycle the parchment forms.

He took the eighteen sheets of parchment, and sorted them as he walked around the desk and towards the weapon's locker. By the time he arrived he had sorted the eighteen forms into open and closed requisitions, nine of the former, and nine of the latter. He unlocked the locker and stepped pass the crates of ammunition to the weapon's racks.

His eyes swept past the pistols and crossbows and settled on the rifle racks. They were wooden, like everything in the warehouse, and contained a variety of weapons. He kneeled down, so as to not look at the hunting rifles, and focused on the twenty slots he had cut over a decade ago for the M16A2 rifles. There were ten rifles there, which meant he hadn't miscounted earlier.

He looked through the open requisitions and matched the serial numbers to the matching empty slots, then matched the closed requisitions and matched the serial numbers to the matching rifles. There was one rifle remaining, when there should have been two. He checked the serial number of the missing rifle and noted it on his worksheet.

"Okay, so, someone took a rifle without requisitioning it," he said to himself as he removed the tenth rifle, the one that hadn't been requisitioned during the previous year. He then slung it over his shoulder and picked up the forms as he stood up.

He turned and grabbed a magazine of rounds before locking the weapon's locker behind him.

He stopped, shook his head, slung the rifle over his shoulder, and strode over to his desk. He opened the drawer, and removed one of the yellowed, yet still usable, requisition forms. He took out a pen, something that the council hadn’t begun to ration, yet, and quickly wrote up his recent transaction.

“Purpose?” he asked himself as he got to the final line of the form. He smirked to himself and began to write, “Reacquisition of lost supplies.”

Writing

You know what, I love writing. I love crafting words into evocative phrases, descriptions that evoke an image of exactly what I want the reader to imagine.

For instance, I just wrote this tonight:

She then turned and began to pace, wringing her hands. As she paced, she made barely a sound, each step on the ball of her foot, her hell barely hitting the deck except when she used it as the fulcrum of her turn.

And that's not it. In the same RPOL post, I also wrote this:

Melissa cocked her head to the side, her face scrunched up in thought, her eyes looking up into her eyebrows, and her teeth lightly biting the inside of her left cheek.

I don't know if the images I want to convey actually come across, but I try.

He sat upright in his chair, legs slightly crossed, his left root resting atop his right. His knees were far apart, farther apart even than the considerable width of his rotund stomach. His arms rested atop that stomach, reaching out and forwards, the edge of his laptop biting into his wrists. His fingers hovered above the keys, left thumb above the trackpad, right thumb above the space bar, his right ring finger occasionally reaching up and to the right for the delete key, the pinky curled up and out of the way. His face was slack, expressionless, his eyes focused on the screen before him, eyes scanning the screen as he typed, flitting from the keys to the blinking cursor and back. He wrinkles the left side of his mouth, thinking, but saying nothing. He composes the words in his mind as he writes them, going back and forth on the phrasing, deleting and rethinking the words as his fingers delete and retype the same.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Fan Fiction

Well, I used to have three chapter of a short fan fiction for a story I like on this blog, but the author asked me to not make it fan fiction, and to remove any links from those posts to her site.

I respect that, and since I hadn't used any IP of hers, I just removed the boilerplate and left them up.

So, I was going to post a new chapter in it, but I've got to come up with some new backstory.

But hey, it got me to post, so it can't be all that bad. Right?

Thursday, October 11, 2007

A Little Less Education… Please!

On campus there's an Einstein Bagels, and behind it is an open outdoor seating/dinning area. I've had lunch there twice, once this week (today), and once last week (thursday as well). Both times I've been there I've tried to socialize with others, and both times I've succeeded.

Also, both times I've talked with Education students (future teachers). Yeah, I know, it's right next to West Classroom, home of the School of Profession Studies (where they teach teaching), so it makes sense for future teachers to eat there. But, it's also the only place to eat on campus outside the Tivoli, which means it should be fairly popular a place to eat.

Instead it's just an extension of the West Classroom student lounges.

So, I'm asking, anyone in particular, for that patio to have, at least next time I'm there, a little less Education (students).

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 1

Robert checked his inventory worksheet against the hard copy inventory book. For the last year he had painstakingly kept the inventory book accurate with his weekly inventories, comparing counts plus requisitions versus the inventory book, and then updating the record.

For most things, including food, the records weren't very accurate when compared week to week. People weren't as exacting as he was, and the council didn't care if the warehouse was short a half cup of lentils.

For others, like the firearms he was currently comparing, the records were accurate to a single round, a single magazine, a single replacement part. The council insisted on it, and it was the tracking of the weapon and armor supplies that his position had initially been created to do. Eventually, as there were more and more mundane items to keep track of, the duty of keeping inventory was added, until Robert was in charge of keeping track of every single consumable and tool that the council had to track.

It was also his last day on the job. Starting next week Jane, who was twenty years his junior, was to take over. He had done the job since it was created by the council twelve years before, and since he had reached fifty years in age, it was time for him to join the council itself, rather than just working for them.

He then looked to the next item in the record book. "Rifle, M16A2," he said aloud to himself. He then looked across the page to last week's entry, "Eleven." He then frowned, and looked at his worksheet.

"Ten?"

That didn't make sense.

"Okay Rob, breathe. It's probably just a miscount. Or you forgot to count a requisition form."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then side-stepped to the left to look at a neat stack of requisition forms.

He picked up the top form, it was for ten 5.56 mm rounds, a normal requisition. He then looked up at the date, and frowned again. "That's over a week ago. Maybe they're out of order?"

He quickly paged through the forms. They weren't out of order.

"Okay, time to double-check with a mark one eyeball.”

Stupid Fucking Gleemax!

okay, right now, I hate WotC. They did this whole deal with Gleemax, promoting it and whatnot, and now that they've opened the alpha, they've turned off the migration until Friday. That's two full days of noone being able to post on the forums, and two full days of me getting annoyed at not being able to socialize with my peers.

Of course, I'm not sure what else I'll use Gleemax for other than the forums, as of my two blogs, I only barely use this one (having completely and utterly abandoned LiveJournal) as it is.

So, I guess I'll just have to read other stuff. Good thing I've got the Amber Spyglass with me!

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Delving 101 - Chapter 3

Mary split off from Rob about ten feet down the hall, when they had to go into their respective locker rooms. “Rob, you cut it a little close in there, you know that, right?”

Rob stopped, leaning against the frame of the locker room door. He bit his bottom lip, then sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted, “it was close. I wasn’t expecting them to follow as quick, and the corridor was a bit rougher than I would have liked. I couldn’t go as fast as I’d practiced on the track, but it’s alright. We made it, and in good time.”

Mary shook her head, then headed into the locker room, shouting to Rob over her shoulder as the door closed behind her, “Yes, but you almost didn’t. Think about it.”

Rob shouldered the door open and slipped inside, letting out a heavy sigh as soon as the door had closed. He walked slowly amongst the lockers, ending finally at the end, his mood suddenly lightening as he caught sight of someone.

“Hey Rob,” said Zeb, as he tightened the strap on his breastplate. It was just leather, like Rob’s, and like every other skirmisher in the class. It was black leather, and it’s studs were carefully painted a matte black to keep the glint off. “So, how’d you do?”

Rob sloughed off his pack and dropped down onto the bench, then drug it around in front of him. “I got it,” he said as he undid the buckles.

“It?” asked Zeb inquisitively.

“Yeah,” some Rob, as he flipped open the main pouch and reached inside. His arm went down deep as he leaned forward, deeper even then the bag appeared to hold. He then leaned back, pulling his arm, and what he had grabbed out of the bag.

“Wait? Didn’t Professor Torbin request you give that back?” asked Zeb as he looked upon the scroll case. It looked exactly like the scroll case Rob had given the Professor not five minute before.

“I gave him a fake. The farthest it gets from the original the heavier it gets. That’ll slow down the rest of the teams, allowing you and Jody to practically waltz through.”

Zeb chuckled.

Death by Awesome

Okay, I just found out that Scott Sigler (yes, of Earthcore, Ancestor, Infected, The Rookie, and more) is collecting information for people who want to show up as dead bodies in his new podcast novel Nocturnal.

I, as a loyal junkie, had to throw my hat in the ring. I may not have enjoyed The Rookie (too much sports, not enough sci-fi) that much, but all his other work is top notch.

Comfort Zones

I'm a student at Metro, and, unlike when I was a student at CSU or Red Rocks, I'm branching out of my comfort zone. I've explored the library (though I still haven't found anything I need to actually check out, so I'm still not sure how that whole process works at Metro, or at CSU or Red Rocks for that matter), and I've explored the campus (the 9th street historical walk thingie is really cool, and I might just lay out on the grass one of these days), and left the areas of expertise (I've visited the student lounges on the West Classroom, the Art building, as well as the Science building).

I've talked with people I didn't know and probably will never meet again at lunch at Einstein's (how cool that there's a bagel place in the middle of campus?). I've participated in the massive religious discussions (playing my normal role as devil's advocate). I've listened to the bands outside the Tivoli, and I've even talked with my fellow students (and my professors) outside of class.

But, I'm still in my comfort zone, even if it's edges are a little thinner, and the peripheral of the zone is larger. I'm still in college, still in school, the one place in life that I've felt truly comfortable in. I think that's one of the many reasons I want to be a teacher. I'm not going to have to leave my comfort zone even when I leave college. I'll still be within the loving arms of academia, safe from the wilds of the corporate world.

When I think about it like that, I get a little bit afraid. Because, like most people, I'm afraid of change, and leaving my comfort zone, that's a lot of change.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Josefer Martin - Monologging for Dummies

I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. There was just no way on God's green Earth that what I was seeing in front of me was true. Mike. After all this time. Sure, in hindsight, it really wasn't that long, since I was still in high school, but still, I couldn't believe it at the time. I can hardly believe it, even now. But, I'm digressing.

"It's been a while," I said, taking a cautious step into the room.

"Yes," he said. He looked older than I remembered, more mature. You know how it is. While you see someone every day, or at least, almost every day, it's difficult to spot the differences from day to day, even if it's a new haircut, or new wardrobe. It's the way the human mind works. I still saw myself as a young kid, and as a preteen, and as a freshman. I saw an unbroken chain of, for lack of a better word, me.

It was the same for Jessica. I'd seen here every day since we met, and so, while in retrospect I can see that she's changed, from day to day, I can't. I know she's taller, more athletic, not to mention shapelier, but she's still the same girl I met way back when.

So, even though it hadn't been that long, i was still surprised to see him there, in the flesh so to speak.

"You've changed," was all I could force myself to say.

"A bit," he quipped. "But, please, have a seat, we have a lot to talk about."

I stepped forward again, now two steps into the room. Now a third, and a forth. I slipped into the back row of the small theatre, Matt and the tour having continued down the hall without me. For the moment I was alone, with him.

A little bit of reorganization

Well, I thought I'd stop in, mainly because I had some new stories to get out of my head, and I thought, "Well, where I can get them out of my head? I know, I'll post them on my derelict blog!"

So, I posted two new flash fiction pieces. Yes, I'm calling them flash fiction, it's what you can short fiction generally under 1000 words. I think I may have to re-label some of my older work, since I'm not sure if it's flash or just short, but at least I'm using Blogger's label system (works much better than my little bracket tags ever did).

So, my first two pieces of new fiction is actually fan fiction, based on one of my favorite stories right now, Tales of MU. It's a fun little AU fantasy story with lots of D&D and webcomic in jokes. My little fan fiction deals with a pair (or possibly two pairs, not sure) of Delving and Discovery majors at Majesterius University. This is, of course, their Delving 101 course, though one of the characters is showing off a bit, and I think the other's not exactly sure of herself.

I like the two of them, mainly because it allows me to describe some cool scenes with some story hanging on them, and well as some story with some cool scenes hanging on them

I'm not sure if I'll write any more, but hey, at least it's out there.

--
Signing off…

Delving 101 - Chapter 2

clap, clap, clap

"Good job, Rob, Mary,” said the professor from deep in the suddenly not dark room. “Rob, the acrobatics back there, quite entertaining. And Mary, I noticed that you had your wand ready, just in case, good preparation."

"Thank you," he said, catching his breath. Rob pushed a lock of his raven hair from in front of his eyes, and strode towards the desk, shading his eyes with his left hand, the one with the scroll case.

The room was white. White floor, white walls, white ceiling, even a white desk. The only specks of color being the backside of the pair of door Mary and Rob had just came through, Mary and Rob themselves, and the short, wide, beaded man behind the desk.

Mary stepped after Rob, and put her wand back into it's holster at her hip. Unlike Rob, she didn't wear any armor, instead she wore simple khaki cargo pants, a khaki blouse, and a well worn pack, typical attire for a delving wizard. "So, how did we do?"

"Not now," said the professor, stepping from behind the desk. His attire was much like Mary's, though noticeably well worn, and missing the pack. "So, the scroll?" he asked, reaching out with a calloused hand.

Rob sheathed his sword, then placed the scroll case in the shorter man's palm. "As requested, one Scroll of Fire."

Mary pouted, but the professor interrupted before she could complain, "Look, you two were the second team through the gauntlet. There are three more teams left to go." He went over to the door, opened it and tossed the scroll case inside. "You'll get your grade, and a debrief of your performance, at the end of the class. For now, relax, and hit the showers."

The professor walked back behind the desk, and then gestured to his left. Mary and Rob both sighed, and exited the white room from the now open door, the door that wasn't there before.

“Come on,” said Rob, “if we hurry up we can catch Zeb and Jody’s run.”

Mary sighed, shook her head, and followed Rob out of the white room, and into the hall.

Delving 101 - Chapter 1

"Come on Rob! Run!"

He pumped his legs as fast as he could, flying over the roughly hewn floor of the corridor. His boots thumped hard, causing his scabbard to rattle, and his pack to jingle. He huffed as he closed the distance, the scroll case held in a death grip on his left hand, his sword in an equally white-knuckle grip with his right.

"Rob! Watch out!"

With that, Rob caught sight of the first of the arrows skittering of the right wall of the corridor, which was suddenly much narrower than he would have liked. He changed his gait, sending his right leg forward, locked tight, with his foot pointed forwards. As he did so, he let his left leg collapse under him, pointing that foot backwards, allowing his to slide onto the ground.

The metal studs on his left greave scrapped against the floor, while the carabineers, pitons, and buckles of his pack jangled. He leaned far back. His hat, if he hadn't lost it already, would have sailed off his head as it nearly hit, instead he watched as nearly two dozen arrows flew over him, into the space he formerly occupied.

"Rob!" Mary shouted, taking cover behind the heavy wooden door not twenty feet away.

He performed another acrobatic maneuver, using the last bit of his momentum to get him standing again. He lifted his right leg slightly, bent it, and slammed it into the floor, the deep treads of his boot catching tight against the floor. Simultaneously, he kicked up with his left leg and leaned forwards. He quickly brought his left leg forwards to catch his fall, and then, within two strides, was back at his full run, now just feet from the door.

He leaned left, so that he could slide past her through the open door, leading with the scroll case. She reached over and behind him as he passed, grabbed the door, then slammed it shut behind him, plunging them from the dim torch light of the corridor into sudden darkness.