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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 15:08:59 GMT -5
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 15:09:17 GMT -5
He was so absorbed in picking the dirt out from under his nails that he did not see the sudden purple flash coming from the pantry and a quiet humming. Several minutes passed without any trouble. The unusual humming continued quietly, accompanied by the shuffling of tins and sounds of eating. Joneigh slowly became aware of the sound, his eyes thinning and his only though being “What now?”
Hands on his hips he stomped over to the door of the pantry to find a rather weird sight. There was an old looking woman, her hand in the syrup jar, her lips covered in gooe and flour, her wrinkles highlighted by the small candle he had back in the kitchen, her belly large, and some wings? Sprouting from her back were tiny, purple, lacelike, wings that fluttered softly keeping the woman perfectly stationary in front of the syrup jar. So tiny that you would not notice if you had not been looking and they were not nearly large enough to hold her weight.
“Excuse me?” Joneigh demanded.
The woman turned about, a scowl across her face at having been interrupted. “You’re excused, young man.” She turned and went back to the syrup jar, shoving another handful in and slapping it about her mouth in a revolting fashion.
“No – I mean, excuse me, what are you doing?” He tried again, his anger obviously growing at the woman who was demolishing his pantry supplies. He really did not want to spent the little money he had restocking the pantry or the journey to Leu’cono’stoc, which was a good fifty miles away, at least.
The woman coughed and gummed her mouth with her finger, un-sticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I’m eating syrup. What does it look like?”
“Well, yes, but why? How did you get in? Why are you in my pantry?” He barked out at the stranger.
“Hmm? Why?” She eyed him. “Because I fancied some syrup and you had some.”
Joneigh leaned against the doorframe and rubbed his head, which was beginning to show signs of a migraine. He wondered quietly if he should have just gone to bed without fixing anything to eat. The day had already been bad enough and this woman was just rubbing salt into the wound.
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 15:45:28 GMT -5
I'd heavily recommend using a different image-hosting service. That one... meh.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 15:47:12 GMT -5
Its on my short-cut bar Dunno of any other
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 15:48:22 GMT -5
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 15:49:07 GMT -5
Ew! It requires a login? Nasty!
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 15:50:07 GMT -5
Ew! It requires a login? Nasty! There's a reason: You can view the images in full, large sizes without downloading, imbed them into forums with image codes... ... I mean, I'm just saying this to help you. The images are tiny in the one you're using unless we download them full.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 15:58:54 GMT -5
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 16:54:51 GMT -5
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 19:00:46 GMT -5
Did you like the snippet? It's not great, but it makes me chuckle
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 19:17:19 GMT -5
Your notes look -remarkably- like mine do, the way you just write down rather random thought which wouldn't really make sense to anyone but you.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 1, 2009 19:51:16 GMT -5
Hehe. All will become clear It is a genius idea. Loving the interaction between my MC and the Fairy (that's a snippet of it above) Coming close to the end of chapter 1 now. Got 13 chapters, prologue and epilogue (which is really a pre-prelogue - revealing the key to the story) hopefully 3,300 words to each. This may increase as I go along, considering some chapters will be longer than others.
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Post by Kaez on Nov 1, 2009 19:58:53 GMT -5
Hehe. All will become clear It is a genius idea. Loving the interaction between my MC and the Fairy (that's a snippet of it above) Coming close to the end of chapter 1 now. Got 13 chapters, prologue and epilogue (which is really a pre-prelogue - revealing the key to the story) hopefully 3,300 words to each. This may increase as I go along, considering some chapters will be longer than others. Oh, -that's- where the snippet was! *facepalm* I liked it :]
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 2, 2009 16:25:41 GMT -5
Maybe it was a stray beast that had spooked them. A Stelf'duir perhaps? A massive wooden forest protector who always took a good fancying to chicken or hind of cow. All the farmers would blame him for everything. A chicken went missing? It was Stelf'duir! A cow stolen and bloody footprints? It was Stelf'duir! A pie gone wrong? It was Stelf'duir! He wondered if it really was Stelf'duir, or if the farmer was just being lazy and didn't look for the chicken, or miss counted the cows in the shed, or the wife's of farmers looking for an excuse at poor baking and crappy pastry. The massive beast that was well over seven feet tall would creak and groan as it moved, talking to the trees or the land. It wore a thorny crown about its head, had only slits for eyes and its arms would be wrapped with ivy and plants, or at least that is what Joneigh had heard. He had never meet Stelf'duir, and did not want to either.
Perhaps it was a Grimbel? He had seen those before. Stupid plants gone horribly wrong which now wielded teeth and huge heads for swallowing chicken sized creatures whole. Normally they hunted squirrels and rabbits but some times, when times were hard in the wild, they would creep on to the farm and steal a meal or two. They were created because a careless Witch had released some kind of magic in the wrong place, over a newly planted garden. They seemed to enjoy scaring his cows. Joneigh reckoned they had a grove of them somewhere near his farm because they would show up all too regularly. The last time he had seen a Grimbel it was stood at one end of the shed screeching through its plant mouth, the wide set of teeth, thorns reached out and forwards like some kind of nightmare. The Grimbel had taken two of his chickens, the feathers about his mouth told him as much. He had to chase it off the farm with a broom like a crazed knight with a broken sword. Its roots, which it ran on, had moved so fast they appeared as just white and brown blurs. He had laughed about it afterwords, amazed that the damned thing hadn't fallen over, his ears still ringing from the high pitched squeals.
(Using up word count creatively - although we will see Stelf'duir again later)
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 2, 2009 20:35:48 GMT -5
The cows? He remembered the live-stock just as he was thinking about the weird contraptions built by the smaller, and more angry, people. Quickly he rushed about the side of the house to find the cow shed all but ruins and the cows a good sixty feet up and falling. Falling very, very slowly.
Such was the physics in Bel-Gonows. It wasn't like the Earths atmosphere, where things would fall very quickly. The atmosphere inside Bel-Gonows was some ten times thicker than that of Earth. Which meant that things falling would take longer to fall, and accelerate during falling, because the object falling had a lot more drag and resistance from the air. It is the very reason there is a low suicide rate in Bel-Gonows, you simply cannot jump off tall buildings and expect to splat at the bottom. It also explains why baby-sitters and nurses issued very strict rules to children about jumping off playground equipment, because some times it would take hours to fall down from a jungle-gym jump. Whereas you would, back on Earth, would land in a mere split second.
From sixty feet up it could take the cows an entire week to land, and of course nature would still happen, leading to falling cow pats, which because they are mostly liquid, would fall faster than the cows. Not a pretty sight.
(LOVED writing that ...)
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