Now and then we venture into the
parallel universe where the characters act...well out of
character.
Apparently Marius has seen Vialle on
pictures before he meets her
Meera: He finds Vialle fascinating. He's heard tales of
those Rebman women, after all. Copies of PlayRebman were all the
rage when...
...erm. I'm so not using the "bulkhead" joke in the
other
message, too.
But Marius taste is weirder than that
Meera: Before the poker game, Marius will go up to his
rooms and dress in his mother's clothing.
GM: That's going to be kind of hard to do, since upon GMly
consideration, none of her clothing has survived in Amber. Her
chambers were in that earthquake and what she was wearing went
into the Abyss with her.
Novak: Don't let her harsh your buzz, Meera.
What is conjury and probability manipulation for, if not prancing
around in your dead mother's clothing?
Did I say weirder?
Meera: Marius wakes from his blood-stained reverie at the
knock. He looks at the sprawl of what remains of poor Amethyst
and quickly palms the knives, the way Caine showed him. He
answers the door with an oblique, "I'm awake," and
turns back to survey his `work.'
Ginger: Mad Slasher of Castle Amber, anyone?
Remember, whatever you do, *don't have sex*.
Choices, choices
Corwin: "Paris is my home, the City I dreamed when I
drew a pattern in the stone and where I planted a tree. A living
city on a mighty river. I will return there after the coronation.
It is where I am meant to be."
Marius is quiet for a moment. He's trying to hide the fact that
he's stunned and torn between two responses.
The first is,
"So you succeeded where Brand failed." Which idea makes
him want to crawl out of his skin and jump out of the carriage
because he's sitting with a madman.
The second is,
"Is SHE there?" because, of course, that's the
underlying question, and it's one not quite of desperation, and
pain, and so many other emotions, he couldn't say it aloud anyway.
Needless to say, the tension in the carriage changes, and Marius
continues to be silent.
After a moment of this war between phrases, he manages a smile. (Because
that's what Marius does. No drink needed.)
"Oh."
Oh, this city is dead, but Paris lives. That explains a lot. Oh.
Corwin has found his place...again, if the half-muttered
references to Avalon are correct. Oh, he IS a madman, but he
looks quite comfortable with it. Oh. What am I going to do? A
river, and not the sea... well, I've had a love-hate relationship
with the ocean for a while. I didn't think the boats were exactly
where I needed to be.
What does this make Random King of? Who else is going? Will there
be girls there? Where's the mountain dew?
Erm.
No, I think "Oh," is all he says for now.
Of course there are more "Mad
Slashers" around
Novak: Curious-- is Random wearing the Jewel for this event?
GM (Michael): Yes. It is red and shiny.
Then it is time for all those long centuries of plotting and
planning to come to fruition-- In a lightning fast movement,
Brennan reaches out and snatches the Jewel with his left hand,
stabbing Random with the blade in the right, trumping away on the
wings of his conspirat--
Random moves faster than Brennan expects, faster than a human can.
You suspect he could have dodged a bullet, much less a knife.
Random steps to the side and blocks his arm. The interference
pushes him slightly to the side, where he finds he has stabbed
Vialle.
Novak: Then it is not all for naught.
She emits a rather dull "Ooof" sound. Random's right
hand is firmly on the jewel. Your allies can bring you through,
but Random will be going with you. What do you do?
Shot the hostage. And while Random is playing with the Family
Jewel, bring him on through so we can do him right, like Caesar.
"Remember, Random," he snarls, "Thou art only
mortal.
"Yeah? Prove it!" Random's left fist is driving
repeatedly into your kidney, and the trump transfer is distorted
by a blast of angry mental energy that sends you, your allies,
and Random sprawling. He is on his feet before you and the jewel
is pulsing red, red, red. Outside you hear thunder.
Novak: "Oh. Wait..."
We did expect this from Paige, didn't
we?
"I'm sorry. I do not mean to put you in an awkward
place with my questioning. But... well... you need to understand.
I was raised to believe sex was used for procreation. That it was
a wife's duty to, shall we say, perform? for her husband. From
how I understand it, and I know you are going to think I am
terribly naive, you need both a man and a woman in order to...
have sex. So I really do not understand how or why, two women
would share a bed." There is no judgement in her voice.
Lilly seems to genuinely be looking for an honest answer to this
question.
Paige puts her arm around Lilly's back, pulling her close. Her
nimble fingers find the clasp for Lilly's silken sheath and
releases it. The moonlight is striking on Lilly bare shoulder as
the dress falls to the garden path. "I thought you'd never
ask, Lilly. Let me show you," Paige whispers warmly into her
ear as they...
Erm.
All together now... We blame Meera. [weg]
If Ossian found himself riding the
carriage from the coronation with Lucas, Solace, Flora and Folly
Olof/GMs:
"A cartful of cuties!" Ossian exclaims.
"Too bad you are married." he says nudging Lucas with
his elbow. "Do you mind if I flirt with your mum?"
"Being married hasn't stopped me from flirting with her yet.
I shall sit back and watch." Lucas says with just the right
touch of world weariness.
"Don't be scandalous, Lucas. It's so boring coming from you."
Lucas is supremely indifferent to his mother's complaints, of
course.
She turns to Ossian and it's as if she hadn't just scolded her
son in his presence. "And you, Ossian! I am a grandmother,"
she says with a decidedly predatory smile.
"But only twice." Ossian says impishly.
"You must be Finndo's child. None of my living brothers
could have fathered such a gallant young man."
"Oh yes, Mother," Lucas interrupts with a weary sigh.
"He's absolutely unique. I'd have him bronzed as a monument
to himself, except I've lost my wax." He rolls his eyes and
turns to look out at the people and wave, mechanically.
"I would be very disappointed if you didn't build a monument
of me if I die, cousin. I would definitely build one in your
image. As a reminder."
"Died? That would be far too late to do any good, coz."
Flora seems annoyed that the center of attention has shifted from
her.
Solace looks at Folly, as if expecting a rescue.
"Concentrate on the waving, dear. " Ossian says with an
all too soft voice.
----Cut! Try once again! Ossian should be more chaste than that.------
The farce is strong in this one
Mark: The firebird throws back his beaked hood to reveal a
green, wrinkled complexion and long ears pointing sideways. Upon
closer inspection, it is now evident that his hands are also
green, and four-fingered - and his legs move stiffly, the way a
midget on stilts would move.
"The Pattern! Is the Pattern you seek, yeeess!"
Erm.<tm>
We all know Marius wants to
Aisling blushes. "Your words are as fine as your
dress, Sir Marius."
Marius: "And both are easily discarded," he says,
ripping the velcro off and...
Erm..
Finding the correct phrasing
After Brennan, Cambina and Jovian talk, and as there is
time, Brennan spies Solange.
He saunters up to her, adjusts his cloak properly and says,
"Well, I spoke with the Devil, not long ago-- can I dance
with an Angel, now?" No, no, no.
"Hey," he says, "If I said you had the body of an
Angel, you wouldn't hold it against me, would you?" Wait,
something's wrong with that....
Luckily, our GMs know when to cut
GM (Michael):[Rejected GM ideas for crowdbuzz]
"...hung like a horse..."
"...Did you see her lack of costume..."
"...forty gallon drum of Astro-Glide..."
"...madam, in the morning, I will be sober..."
"...how it got in my pajamas I'll never know..."
"...those aren't pillows..."
"...Black is the color of my true love's butt..."
"...Holy ancient Etruscan snoods!..."
"...we've already determined what kind of girl you are..."
"...all right. Death by Hringa!..."
"...Muse Secret #73..."
We knew Martin had secret ambitions
Brennan: He takes a second step forward, out of the
crouch, throwing one at Dara and the other at the man who could
be a long-lost brother Bonus points if it lodges in his throat
right where Caine's arrow hit Brand.
John again: He draws a really bad card and nails Random and
Vialle.
"Uh, sorry Martin."
Pause.
GM (Michael) :Martin shrugs once, philosophically, and looks from
Vialle's corpse to his father's. "You win some, you
lose some."
Brennan: "Poker night, next weekend?"
Kris: He nods once, abruptly. "That's 'Poker night, Your
Majesty?', you redheaded twit!"
Never follow Ossian through a Trump
GM (Michael): Far to the north (or perhaps the south), a
sail can be spotted by the keen-eyed. The sail is a bright red,
but the ship doesn't seem interested in the beach or the people
on it.
Ossian mutters "Are they colour blind?" and
concentrates. A few moments later a gigantic pink sea serpent
surfaces, looming over the ship for a second before bearing down
on it swallowing the ship whole. The serpent dives again.
"Their sail didn't match the sky." Ossian says.
"We should report in. I am certain the King will want to
know that his Queen is safe. Who can we contact?" Lilly asks.
"Oh. I forgot." Ossian pulls out a Trump of the dance
floor and a carefully sealed roll of parchment from out of his
pocket, he opens the Trump contact long enough to throw the roll
at Random the closes the contact again.
"Now they know."
The note consists of letters cut from different spreadsheets and
reads as follows:
"I haVe yOUr WifE. REtuRn to tHiS SpoTt At miDnIhGt TomORow
wiTh tHRee bUsty ViRgiNs aNd a BarRel oF That viNtIge (aSk lUCas)
as rAnSOm Or yoU sHalL nevEr see HeR alivE aGaiNn. No fuNnY
BissNIsS."
Brennan, standing near Random, reads over his shoulder. I mean,
really, Random is what, 5'4"? Brennan is 6'1"-ish? It's
unavoidable.
"I told you I didn't trust that redheaded weasel, Your
Majesty. Let me go retrieve Her Majesty for you." He cracks
his knuckles. Noisily. "Pretty please?"
Folly knocks on the door...
She pauses, listening. When she doesn't hear a "no,
don't come in yet!" she opens the door and slips quietly
into the room.
Kris: Random's preternatural hearing recognizes her step a moment
too late as he lifts his head from his son's neck, fresh blood
dripping from his mouth and staining his costume. Hanging out of
the open shirt and throbbing with an unearthly glow is the Jewel
of Judgement. The King's features slip and slide, his form
becoming more muscular and his skin growing a thick tawny fur.
With red glowing eyes, a guttural voice growls, "It demands
blood..."
Kris: And Folly thinks, //Oh, that's how he did the voice-over in
that last chorus of "Petra and the Wolf"...//
Karen: "Bad kitty," she says, pouting. "It wasn't
time to eat him yet."
Kris: K/P
Who kept misreading the original subject line... resulting in the
previous drek... Of course, Martin dying in the scene's just
coincidental with Paige's current feelings on the Crown Pric...
Prince. [The original subject line was "Flurries", the
new one "Furries". -Olof]
Karen: Heheheheheheheh.
Any resemblance of Folly's statement to things she might actually
be thinking is of course entirely intentional.
Not too far off
Karen, imitating three PCs:
"But if they all band together, that might not be so good
for us," says Ossian. "Unless we convince them to work
for us. I have an idea for a new monument...."
Brennan just shakes his head.
"I believe I can offer some insight," says Lucas.
[Lucas describes the women's undergarment industry in some depth]
"And that, you see," concludes Lucas, "is why our
economic policy should be one of lifting and separating."
"Ah," says Brennan. "Divide and conquer."
Stupid question, stupid answer
Celina:"What kind of women is Carl attracted to,
Alice?" She smiles.
GM (Ginger) as Alice Roth:
10. "Breathing."
9. "Psycho Chaos bitches, according to Merlin."
8. "What kind of women isn't he attracted to?"
7. "Me, but don't tell Bill."
6. "All of them."
5. "He once said something suggestive about his favorite old
battleaxe ..."
4. "Yes."
3. "He has a preference for the living, but he doesn't let
that stop him."
2. "Your mother has a better answer to that question than I
do."
1. "Female."
Can we make copies?
Blake:
"Hey, if Random can do it, and Corwin can do it..."
Bleys muses...
Julian muses...
Dara muses...
Benedict muses...(a frightening concept that)
Llewella, Fiona, Flora, Caine, Gerard, youngers ad nauseum...
Well, you get the idea...:)
This does not bode well.
Michael:
To: Family
From: Random, Rex
Subject: Re: Patterns
Cc:
Hi all,
Sorry to send out a mass e-mail on the subject, but I've just
been deluged
with trump calls on this subject.
The answer is no, nobody can borrow my magic red rock.
Thanks for asking!,
Random.
Jovian should worry about caries
Never one to refuse such charming manipulation in a beautiful
woman - nor good food whenever offered - Jovian leans forward.
His eyes close as his teeth sink through the delicate pink flesh,
the rich salt-sweet flavors insinuating themselves with a gentle
assertiveness on his tongue.
The rich coppery taste flows into Jovian's lips and he feels a
need he had not known, indeed one he can only describe by calling
it 'hunger', but it is so much more than that.
He cannot resist the temptation to kiss her fingertip before
leaning back to chew and sip more wine.
The urge is overwhelming and Jovian continues to suck the blood
from her delicate pink flesh.
"They call what you will become 'Ghouls', my sweet..."
she says lazily. Jovian drinks on, knowing that he has been
committed to a course he would not have chosen, and not caring in
the ecstasy of the feeding.
Discontinuity
Shrike says "Don't look at me like that, my Lord.
It's the sleep deprived idiot who writes me, is what. One of the
reasons he doesn't like multiply re-entrant threads is that stuff
gets lost. Best to post to the end of the conversation, generally."
Suddenly Rocks fall from the sky and Shrike dies once, abruptly.
And we eliminate this paragraph and the previous paragraph and
assume Shrike answered in a timely fashion...]
On the road
Leslie (as Robin/Vere):
"D*mmit! I know it's around here somewhere!"
"Beloved. This area is noticeably populated by well-intentioned
and equally
well-educated individuals. Perhaps we can partake of some of the
native
wisdom..."
"Screw that! I am *not* pulling over and asking for
directions!!!
Why Ossian and Marius were delayed
(Meera):
"You're not wearing those."
"I kind of like them."
"I'm not travelling with you if you wear those, and that's
that."
"Oh. Well, I did have an order for these in orange."
"Yeah, that'll make those so much better."
"I think I detect sarcasm."
"No, it's just that there's only one way to go with those,
and that's the direction of improvement."
"It'll be a day or two."
"I can wait."
Marius as a
weapons teacher:
Random shrugs. "There's no one I want to have do it in Ruby."
"Brennan could do it," Martin replies.
Meera:Aw, man, I could see Garrett and Marius at it.
"No, no, no, you're acting as if fighting were some kind of dance, with the
sword either your partner or some kind of costume-like extension of yourself.
Fighting is _survival._ None of this named movement, just...passion. This
thrust-parry business is for cold, disinterested teachers. Get in and draw
blood. Thirst. You are the flame, the fire, not the blade. Rend. Maim.
Terrorize. You're not there to make friends and have a little party. Kick them
while they're down, and then if you have to dance, dance on their skulls,
your ankles splashed with their guts."
Or...not.
Karen: Hee! Marius fights like a girl!
Lucas/BLake/Garrett:
If Garrett heard his voice without seeing him, he might not even recognise it as
Lucas. "Or one of the Castle."
Blake: And with his suddenly deep, low voice, one starts getting impression
of...
Lucas...he is your father...
Garrett: "Gods, not another one," Garrett groans.
This page was updated 14 sep 2005.