|
Post by reasonably_crazy on Nov 6, 2006 23:36:10 GMT -5
ha ha... ha ha... ha ha ha....
I'm freaking jealous of your main character. It's sick and wrong.
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 7, 2006 11:55:41 GMT -5
Yeah? What's irritating me is the effort I have to put in to NOT be jealous of Katie, and the fact that she has more talent in her little finger than I have in my whole body.
Wow, am I a grouchy bitch at the moment.
|
|
|
Post by Hobbit-eyes on Nov 7, 2006 18:48:51 GMT -5
I just have a lot of material to work with. Most of this IS based on real-life uni experience.
.... except for the meeting the Messenger of the Gods part. Though I do have a guy I can't look at without thinking 'Hot DAMN, he is SCHMEXEH'.
Anyway. Ahem. Moving right along.
So that was how Sophie ended up in O’Neill’s, in the middle of the afternoon, sitting next to a geeky girl who she’d only met a couple of weeks ago and opposite the Messenger of the Gods, waiting for a large portion of cheesy-bacon chips to arrive.
“Yeesh, Sophie, he is SCHMEXEH,” Gemma had whispered gleefully into her ear while he was ordering their chips (he had insisted on paying, winning Gemma’s eternal favour).
“So I hear,” said Sophie, casting accusing glares at her own brain. Don’t ask me how, it’s a metaphor, all right? The front of the eyes are for normal glares, the back of them are for metaphorical glares at your own brain and your inner child.
“Who is he? What’s his name?”
For a brief second, Sophie considered lying. But then she thought, well, she’s about to hear everything anyway, and I’ll probably need her help if I’m going to do this thing… plus, it’d be nice to share the insanity.
‘See, we CAN help you with stuff,’ said her brain smugly.
She glared again. Metaphorically, of course. Did you assume that anyway? Good for you!
“Hermes,” she said, in the unintentional voice of one who wants to get the worst over with.
“Ooh,” said Gemma, “Like the-”
“The Messenger for the Gods, yes.”
“I was going to say the guy from Futurama or Percy’s owl in Harry Potter, but cool. And he has winged sandals too, doesn’t he? Hey, is he a Classics nut like you?”
“… er… couldn’t really say.”
“Shame. Geeks are fun.”
“No, he’s not a geek.”
“Aw.”
“He’s the actual Messenger for the Gods. That IS Hermes. THE Hermes.” Gemma looked at her. “I’m serious. He’s a god. Really. I have no idea how I’m going to persuade you, but-”
“Hey, are you really the Messenger for the Gods?” Gemma called across to Hermes, who was coming back over to them with drinks.
“Yes,” Hermes had grinned, “Nice to meet you.”
Gemma’s mouth fell open. “WOW. That’s – that’s beyond fawesome, that’s – made of win. Pure win. Pure shiny win.” Oh dear, the situation seemed to have sent her brain onto a geek loop. “I should have known, what with you buying our chips. Wow, what’s it like?”
“What, being a god?”
“Yeah!”
“It’s all right. Quite fun, I guess, but it gets a bit samey after a while.”
“And can you really fly? With the winged sandals?”
“Yes.”
“Wow!” Gemma paused. “Can you give us a lift back to college after this?”
Hermes grinned. “You really don’t like the hills, do you?”
“NO,” said Sophie and Gemma immediately.
“All right then.” Hermes handed over their drinks. “Do you know how many hills there actually are in Durham?”
“Too many,” said Gemma.
“There are seven.” Hermes looked at Sophie. “I’m guessing the relevance of that isn’t lost on you?”
“Er… Rome had seven hills?”
“Exactly. And you’re a Fabian.”
Sophie stared. “Yeees?...”
“OOH!” said Gemma suddenly, “Fabian tactics!”
Sophie’s head snapped round to her. “Saywhat?”
“Fabian tactics! I heard the other guys at Treasure Trap talking about them, they were thinking about using them at Maelstrom or something – it’s where you don’t actually meet the enemy in open battle, but just hang around them just out of attack range and cut off supplies and generally wear down their morale. It’s like a siege, but it keeps moving.”
“You are a very scary person,” said Sophie.
“Thank you.”
“That’s right,” said Hermes, “And who was the strategy named after?” Blank stares from both Sophie and Gemma. “Quintus Fabius Maximus, the Roman dictator who had to try to defeat Hannibal. He first used them, just shadowing Hannibal and wearing down him and his men, and keeping him from attacking Rome. He knew they had inferior numbers and wouldn’t win in a pitched battle, but he couldn’t let Hannibal keep storming through Italy.”
“Ooooh, smart,” said Gemma reverentially.
Hermes looked at Sophie. “Do you know anything about the Fabii?”
“Er… weren’t they one of the patrician families?”
“That’s right. They were descendants of Hercules, and they had some heroes of their own in their background too. There was Fabius Maximus, who kept Hannibal at bay… Fabius Maximus Rullianus, hero of the Samnite wars… and there’s another story that’s not so well documented.”
“Cheesy bacon chips?” said a waitress, who’d just wandered into this conversation and looked a little perturbed.
“Ooooh, thank you, cheesy bacon goodness,” said Gemma, taking the plate from her and putting liberal amounts of ketchup on the side.
Hermes took one and tried it. “Yes. These really are the best cheesy-bacon chips in the world. And I’ve tried most of them.”
“I TOLD you.”
“Er,” said Sophie, “What were you saying about the Fabii?”
“Oh. Yes. Well, about twelve miles from Rome there was a city of Veii, predominantly Etruscan. There’d been a long feud between them and Rome, stretching back to when Rome had kings. Rome eventually started a war with them, and the Fabii ended up leading the defence against them – by themselves. Just the Fabii family, three hundred and six of them, against the city of the Veii.”
Hermes took another cheesy chip. “They managed to hold them at bay for two years. But then they got drawn into an ambush, and every single one of them was killed. The only way the family line survived was because they’d left one boy back in Rome…”
Sophie couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, except for ‘Bummer’, but she didn’t think that was very appropriate. She just took a cheesy chip. Damn, they were good.
“Wow,” said Gemma after a while – either pausing to take in this piece of information, or to finish the chip she’d been eating – “So… they were like Roman Superheroes?”
Hermes grinned again. “Exactly.”
Sophie had a horrible feeling she knew where this was going.
“Back in ancient times, when there was a problem that needed sorting, Fate could normally rely on the Fabii to be their Heroes. Now, we have another problem that needs sorting. And Sophie is a Fabius.”
“Fabian,” corrected Sophie instinctively.
“Same difference.”
“Hang on, you need Sophie to be a Hero?” said Gemma, looking excited.
“Precisely.”
“Why me?” blurted out Sophie, “There must be hundreds of Fabii descendants out there-”
“Not as many as you’d think. You see, Evil-”
“With a capital E?” said Gemma in awed tones.
“Yes.”
“Whoa.”
“… Evil’s caught onto the Fates’s little habit of using Fabii. So, whenever fortune allows, they try to wipe out as many they can.”
Gemma looked at Sophie. “Eep. Evil with a capital E is out to get you.”
|
|
|
Post by Hobbit-eyes on Nov 7, 2006 18:51:59 GMT -5
“But they can’t get us all,” persisted Sophie, trying to ignore this unnerving capitalised piece of information, “Why me, out of all of them?”
“Well, you’re in Durham. The seven hills. The setting for the revival of an ancient evil.”
“Capitalised?”
“No, not this time.”
“Aw.”
“And you believe in the Gods.”
“I use the Greek names though,” said Sophie, wondering why she was latching onto this piece of information (not knowing it was the author’s cunning attempt to avoid plot holes), “If this is Roman, shouldn’t you be Mercury?”
Hermes shrugged. “We’re elementally the same. The Heroes of time have been scattered all over the world, and use all kinds of different names for us. You still believe in the basic principle of us, though.”
“I… never really thought about it,” said Sophie, “I didn’t know I did.”
“Well, you do now.”
“So you’re telling me,” said Sophie slowly, “that I’m the one who has to defeat this Evil-”
“Nice pronunciation of the capital E,” whispered Gemma, giving a thumbs up.
“- just because I’m descended from this Roman Superhero family-”
“And Hercules.”
“…. And Hercules…” (Damn, but that was kinda awesome) “… and I’m in Durham. You SERIOUSLY couldn’t find anyone better?”
Hermes shrugged. “It was also kind of a last minute thing.”
“What, aren’t these Heroes normally prophesied hundreds of years in advance?”
“Normally.” Hermes sighed and leaned back. “But we had a slight problem.”
Sophie and Gemma waited. They got the idea he liked these dramatic pauses. Well, after thousands of years delivering various messages from the Gods, he must have got a lot of practice.
And true enough, he let the exact right amount of time for full dramatic impact elapse before going on. “There’s a prophecy – that is, a stipulation in Fate’s contract – that every time five planets line up, a new Evil will arise and have to be defeated by a Hero. Normally, we can predict when this is going to happen, and so prepare a Hero for it. But… then you mortals went and did something you weren’t supposed to.”
“Sorry,” said Gemma automatically.
“Five planets weren’t supposed to line up for another five hundred years at the very least,” said Hermes, “But then, you decided you were going to add a whole bunch of new planets into the equation.”
“The reclassification of the planets,” Sophie suddenly realised, “Last week. They made Ceres a planet, and Charon, and Eris…”
“And Sedna,” finished Hermes.
“Which is a crap name,” muttered Gemma darkly.
“All because they couldn’t be bothered to think of a new way to remember the planets,” said Hermes heavily, “They didn’t want to demote Pluto, so they had to promote a whole new lot. Which means that five planets will, in fact, be lining up… in two weeks.”
“So… an Evil will be rising… in two weeks?” said Gemma faintly.
“Pretty much,” said Hermes, “yeah.”
“Oh,” said Gemma.
“Dear,” observed Sophie.
“I see you understand the gravity of the situation somewhat.”
“What is the Evil?” asked Sophie.
Hermes shrugged.
Sophie stared. “You don’t know?”
“Weeell… Evil tends to like to take things in new and exciting directions, you know? I mean, it’s usually defeated, it has to have something to make each new attempt interesting and engaging.”
“Only usually defeated?” questioned Gemma.
“Have you seen Big Brother?”
“Ahhh.”
“So – Evil rising in two weeks – no idea what it is – but I have to defeat it because I’m descended from Roman Superheroes,” summarised Sophie.
“Yep,” grinned Hermes, “That’s about it.”
“Oh.” Sophie took another chip. She carefully chose one with a lot of cheese and bacon stuck on it. “Any – er – advice?”
“Stop going on Facebook,” said Hermes immediately.
“Aww.”
“But other than that, don’t worry. The Agents of Destiny should be in touch, they’ll be making sure this escapade follows the usual formulas.”
Gemma’s mouth fell open. “Is it YOUR fault that all fantasy adventure stories are so predictable??”
“Hey,” said Hermes defensively, “The Fates spent ages on that formula. Don’t knock it, OK? It works, doesn’t it? Hero always saves the world.”
“So it’s YOUR fault I saw the ‘shocking twist’ ending of ‘Eldest’ coming a mile away!”
“No, that’s because the author lifted the plot from Star Wars.”
“Which follows the traditional hero epic formula!”
“Well… yes. But everyone follows it. It works.”
“Joss Whedon doesn’t,” said Gemma smugly.
“Yeah, and ‘Serenity’ really soared at the box office, didn’t it?” One of Gemma’s eyes twitched. Sophie got the idea that the eternal favour won by the chips had been dented somewhat. “Besides, even he does a bit. You can’t avoid the formula. It’s what makes the universe work so well.” Off Sophie’s and Gemma’s looks, he relented and said, “All right, makes it work better than any other formulas we worked out did.”
Gemma didn’t reply. She seemed to be muttering under her breath something along the lines of, “Boy, if you were a leaf on the wind and I had a stick…”
“How the hell can an adventure formula do that?” asked Sophie hurriedly.
“Do you think it’s mere coincidence that pretty much the only thing to survive the Dark Ages are the stories of King Arthur?” Hermes smiled slightly. “These stories – though they follow a formula – have immense power. You’re now a main player of something huge.”
Sophie blinked and grabbed another chip.
“So stay off Facebook,” re-insisted Hermes, “Now, the Agents of Destiny probably won’t talk to you directly – that’s not their way – but events ought to be practically flinging themselves in your path. You don’t have anything to worry about, you just need to follow the signs. And they’ll be painted in big shiny letters. You won’t be able to miss them. For the time being… get some people to help you. Heroes work best with teams to back them up, to give them guidance, to be human shields – er- maybe you shouldn’t mention that last part,” he added hurriedly.
“I’ll help!” said Gemma immediately.
“You will?” said Sophie, not entirely surprised, but very grateful all the same.
“Course! I love Treasure Trap, this’ll be just like it!”
“Except – you always die in Treasure Trap.”
“Yes, but I’ll hardly be a secret priest of an illegal vampire religion this time, will I?”
“I don’t know… will you?”
“No! So I won’t get stabbed in the back by my own trusted comrade!” said Gemma gleefully.
“That’s… always good…” One of these days I’m going to be able to listen to these conversations without batting an eyelid, Sophie realised. Oh dear.
Hermes got to his feet. “I’d better be going. Thanks for the chips. Keep an eye out for signs, and try getting a couple more people in your Quest Gang. But don’t tell too many people,” he warned, “The only advantage we have right now is that while we don’t know what Evil’s up to, it won’t know what we’re up to either. Let’s keep it that way for as long as possible.”
“Gotcha,” said Gemma. Sophie seemed to be having trouble talking, since her brain seemed to have decided this would be a good time to try to comprehend the enormity of her task ahead.
Hermes looked straight down at her. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. If this formula can work for Harry Potter, it should be a piece of cake for you. And the gods will be keeping an eye on you.”
“They will?” said Gemma excitedly.
“Well, yes, it’s either watch this unfold or the cricket. No argument. If you get into real trouble, we’ll send someone down.” He turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and by the way? If you think I’m schmexeh, keep your wits about you if you run into Apollo.” And with a final wave, he walked out.
Sophie and Gemma sat in silence. “Whoa,” observed Gemma.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“This ought to be interesting,” said Gemma.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Didn’t expect this to happen at uni!” said Gemma cheerily, “Join sci-fi society, maybe, but save the world? That’d look good on my CV.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“So maybe we should think about who else we’re going to get on our team?” Gemma thought out loud, “We’d have to be selective, of course… and try using the Hero Formula…”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Sophie,” said Gemma, “I think you should stop banging your head against the table now. You’re making a dent.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“In your head.”
Thud. Thud. Thud. Sophie stopped and let her head rest against the varnished wood of the table.
“Look,” said Gemma, slightly hesitantly, “I know this is a huge deal – not to mention really, really weird – but just think – who else would get an opportunity like this? This could be something really good. And not just because we’re defeating Evil and all that. This could be something we still look back on seventy years, and remember every moment, because it was completely unlike anything before or after it…”
Sophie listened and took this in. She continued staring just past of the edge of the table down at her converse. Finally, she said, “Great. I can now longer look a god in the eye.”
“Ohhh, the schmexeh thing. Eh, I thought it too. Have a chip,” she said, sliding the plate over to her.
One of Sophie’s hands crept up above the tabletop, snaffled some chips then took them down underneath again. Gemma heard munching sounds.
“Thank you,” Sophie said after a moment. “For saying you’d help me, I mean.”
“Like I’d miss it!” grinned Gemma, “We get to be Big Damn Heroes! This is going to be one of those olde fashioned quests, with deeds and valour and suchlike! You couldn’t keep me away if you paid me. I wonder what the Evil is, though?”
Sophie suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh gods,” she moaned.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be simple enough – remember, the Hero Formula. You’ve probably already got some inborn natural ability that means only you can stop whoever or whatever it is…”
“No, not that.” Sophie looked at Gemma. “We forgot to make him give us a lift.”
“… aw, crap! Whoever thought of giving Durham seven hills so that it could serve as a future setting for Ye Olde Heroic Quests was very inconsiderate towards lazy students.” Gemma looked closely at Sophie. “You all right now?”
“I guess,” sighed Sophie, “This just all seems so… well… weird.”
Gemma patted her shoulder. “You’re friends with me. You’ll handle it.”
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 8, 2006 7:49:00 GMT -5
Firstly: The word is ARCHETYPE. Use it, it's a cool word.
Secondly: I thought what Hermes said ages ago. I am smug
Thirdly: I am only writing this post in this format because I haven't the imagination to write it properly
Fourthly: Congrats for getting the Fabii and Veii in.
Fifthly: ...please tell me the real-life schmexeh guy ISN'T the one looks like Alex..
Sixthly: Real-life experiance has nothing to do with it.
Seventhly: I should probably stop now, but it's really fun seeing how many numbers I can add 'thly' onto
Eightly: Oh, I should be getting MY computer back tonight, and be able to talk to you, Katie, on MSN, where I shall probably bombard you with questions about LARPing.
Ninethly: This is getting silly. Meh.
|
|
|
Post by Hobbit-eyes on Nov 8, 2006 19:24:51 GMT -5
Firstly: I like saying Hero! But I'll try to fit in Archetype.
Secondly: Why do you think he said it? ;D
Thirdly: Huzzah for you!
Fourthly: Thanks muchly. I was also smug.
Fifthly: No! Completely different guy. Consarnit.
Sixthly: None whatsoever. .... in what?
Seventhly: Keep going!
Eightly: Things you need to know - trust no-one, keep back in fights, and save your magic for the end. I'll make you a mage character, any preferences?
Ninethly: Aww.
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 9, 2006 3:00:44 GMT -5
Firstly: Okay.
Secondly: Great. Now I'm trying to work out the Top Ten SCHMEXEH Greek Gods.
Thirdly: Wheee!
Fourthly: And so you should be
Fifthly: *phew*
Sixthly: I mean that you're a really, really good writer, it's not that your using real-life experiance.
Seventhly: I shall!
Eighthly: What kinds of magic are there?
Ninethly: And here we stop.
|
|
|
Post by Hobbit-eyes on Nov 13, 2006 9:07:29 GMT -5
“So that guy you met in Varsity last night – that was Hermes?” asked Gemma.
“Yes.”
“Huh.” Gemma looked thoughtful. “Do you often run into Greek deities in bars?”
“Not that I can remember, no. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything…”
The two of them were in Sophie’s room – it was by far the tidier one, considering Gemma hadn’t bothered putting things back from her manic early morning search for pants yet – eating cookies while Sophie filled Gemma in on what she remembered from the night before. The cookies made it all so much easier.
“So how much did he tell you last night?”
“The basics. I had to be a Hero. To Save the Universe. From Darkness and Peril.”
“You’ve gotten very good at pronouncing those capital letters.”
“Thank you.” She took another cookie. “So – what do we do, Miss Quest Expert?”
“Er,” said Gemma, “Well – by the Hero Formula, you’ve had the Call to Action-”
“Saywhat?”
“Do you know the Hero Formula?”
“Evidently not.”
“Sigh. Right. It all starts off with a Hero. That’s you.”
“So it would seem.”
“And they get some kind of Call to Action from a Herald, because of some Evil threatening their community.”
“In a pub while drunk from someone I just thought was schmexeh, yes, also done.”
“Right. Then there’s the Refusal of the Call – you’re not supposed to initially go along with it.”
Sophie thought back. “I told him he was insane…”
“That’d probably do. Then the Hero suffers a bit, and decides to Answer the Call after all.”
“Suffering? Err… I had a hangover? Drink came out of my nose?”
“That’ll probably about do it. Basically, what you needed was a Motivation.”
“Hermes bought me chips,” said Sophie decisively, “Thus I come to the conclusion that if I complete this quest, I will get more chips. That is my motivation.”
“Right. Sorted. What’s next… er… oh right, Meeting a Wise Mentor.”
Sophie stared. “Saywhat?”
“You know. Merlin. Gandalf. Obi-Wan. Dumbledore. Some wise old man who’ll give you physical and psychological weapons.”
“But… I don’t know any wise old men!”
“Er. One of your lecturers?”
Sophie thought about them all. Well, there was the ‘Classical Theories of Soul’ man – but he seemed too young, too Hugh Grant-ish and not particularly wise. ‘Remembering Athens’? He was American. She couldn’t really imagine a Wise Mentor being American – no offence, of course. It just didn’t work in her head. And then there was her Latin tutor – well, he seemed far too fluffy to be much use.
“Nope. None of them work.”
“But you’ve got to have someone!” Gemma looked taken aback. “All Heroes have someone guiding them, teaching them, helping them – basically prodding them along the way.”
“I don’t know - can’t you prod me??”
“I don’t think so… I don’t really fit the bill - they’re usually old and venerable, and knowledgeable of the Evil and the task ahead, and able to teach the Hero more about the world in general...”
“And the Heroes are normally guys who know which end to hold a sword. I don’t think this quest quite conforms to normal rules. You’re already teaching me more about the world in general, I know what LARP stands for now-”
“Aaand there’s the teeny fact that the Wise Mentor usually dies halfway through,” pointed out Gemma, “To leave the Hero to Stand Alone For The Final Conflict. And I don’t want to die, funnily enough.”
Sophie stared. “Oh gods. No, I don’t want you to either. I don’t want anyone to die – you don’t think someone will, do you?”
Gemma shrugged. “I don’t know… Hermes made this quest sound pretty huge… and people do normally die on quests.”
Sophie shoved another cookie into her mouth. “Right. I make do without a mentor. I’m not having anyone dying. I also hereby declare a Run Away Screaming policy if any possible death situations come up.”
“Fair enough. That generally works for me on adventures in Treasure Trap.”
“Really?” Sophie sat up slightly. “What else happens at Treasure Trap? Anything that might be useful?”
“Well,” said Gemma, looking thoughtful. “I’ve learnt that you should never trust the quiet ones… don’t sit with your back to the door… make friends with alchemists and healers… negotiate with orcs, they won’t understand but they’ll get very confused so you can attack them while they’re still trying to work out what negotiate means…”
“I don’t think we’ll be encountering orcs, Gemma,” said Sophie, “At least – I hope not…”
“What’s next?” thought Gemma out loud, “Ah yes – you’ll receive some kind of talisman, which will carry you through your journey-”
“Ohh, can’t the chips count for that?”
“Did Frodo eat his mithril vest? I don’t think so,” said Gemma sternly.
“But where the hell am I supposed to buy a talisman? What does a talisman look like?”
“You don’t buy it, it’s a gift.”
“No-one’s about to buy me a present!”
“I’m sure the Agents of Destiny are on it.”
“Oh. Woot.”
“And then, to start the next stage of the adventure, there’s the symbolic Crossing of the Threshold…”
Sophie stared. “I realise I have said this several times already, but I find it rather succinctly puts my emotions across – saywhat??”
Gemma looked as though she was barely restraining an eyeroll. “Exactly what it says on the tin. The Hero crosses the Threshold – symbolic or actual – into another world, where the adventure takes place.”
“But – I’m not planning on crossing any thresholds! I don’t get random doorways popping up in front of me in the pavement!”
“I said, it can be a symbolic threshold. Like when Harry enters Diagon Alley, Frodo sets out from Hobbiton, Luke Skywalker goes to Mos Eisley…”
“… so, when the Hero goes to the pub?”
“Is there a better way to start an adventure?”
“Evidently not.” Sophie sighed. “So – what – we go to the pub tonight and get hammered, AGAIN, and this’ll help me save the world?”
“Can’t tonight. Treasure Trap. Hang on-” said Gemma, suddenly looking excited, “YES! That’d be perfect! You should come!”
Sophie suddenly felt very worried. Gemma looked close to bouncing. “Er, Gemma, I’ve told you before, I don’t think Treasure Trap is my thing-”
“No, but don’t you see?? It’s the Crossing the Threshold, you’re Learning New Skills to help you on your adventure – you can learn the Dos and Don’ts of Hero Work – and maybe we could find some people to help us! You might even get your Talisman, complete with a shiny lammie attached! It’s perfect!”
“OK, one – stop bouncing, my bed won’t stand it. And Chris below gets far too much of that noise from the couple next to him for us to start up in stereo. Two – this sounds weird. You ACT OUT adventures. And three – what the hell is a ‘lammie’??”
“One, OK. Two, we still get really into it, and the principles are all there. I’m sure you’d learn something. And three – what was three again?”
“WTF is a lammie?”
“Oh. Laminated card. An object isn’t anything special unless it has a lammie. Lammies are what differentiate a pebble from something Iasus has mini-orgasms over. Basically, lammies are shiny and made of god and win,” sighed Gemma.
Sophie blinked to punctuate this little rhapsody on Gemma’s part. “Er. Yay.”
“You’ll understand, IF YOU COME TONIGHT.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll come! Geez.” Sophie paused. “Mini-orgasms? Really? Over a laminated card?”
“His words, not mine. It was apparently a very special and shiny pebble.”
“You have interesting friends.”
“They’re really great! I can’t believe it’s taken the impending Apocalypse to get you to come with me.”
“Yeah, well.” Sophie took another cookie. “Not all of us take as naturally to geeky weirdness as you do. For some of us, it’s a big step. There are Geeks, and then there are Geek Magnets, who somehow end up becoming friends with lots of Geeks without any particular Geeky Inclinations themselves.”
“All too true,” said Gemma, clinking her cookie against Sophie’s in a weird kind of toast, “But may I say, you’re a marvellous Geek Magnet. All shiny and polarized.”
“Thanks.”
I am in so much trouble with this. I'm nearly 10000 words behind. Dearie me.
|
|
|
Post by reasonably_crazy on Nov 15, 2006 1:49:09 GMT -5
"‘Remembering Athens’? He was American. She couldn’t really imagine a Wise Mentor being American – no offence, of course." Thanks, Katie, thanks. And I'm just as behind as you.
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 15, 2006 11:05:55 GMT -5
But I bet you BOTH in the 'OMG I'm so behind in this story' stakes.
|
|
|
Post by reasonably_crazy on Nov 20, 2006 2:00:08 GMT -5
well, yes. But I've gotten to the point where I gave up entirely. *weeps*
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 20, 2006 4:52:54 GMT -5
Ditto.
|
|
|
Post by reasonably_crazy on Nov 21, 2006 13:41:10 GMT -5
Yet Katie has not! which is why she needs to update. Because we KNOW there's more.
|
|
|
Post by goblingirl on Nov 21, 2006 13:59:47 GMT -5
Do we?
A conversation we had a school today:
Me: *points to lying witches friends**to Melissa, a girl I go to loads of classes with* Anything they tell you about me is a lie.
lying witches friends: THEA'S PREGNANT!
Me: SEE?
Melissa: Oooo, are you? Who's the father?
Me: There is no father!
Melissa: Sperm doner was it?
Me: *gives up* No, it was an immaculate conception. I'm giving birth to the next messiah. And angel told me to call him Tim.
Random, but it reminded me of your story.
|
|
|
Post by intoxicated on Nov 22, 2006 14:56:24 GMT -5
Do we? A conversation we had a school today: Me: *points to lying witches friends**to Melissa, a girl I go to loads of classes with* Anything they tell you about me is a lie. lying witches friends: THEA'S PREGNANT! Me: SEE? Melissa: Oooo, are you? Who's the father? Me: There is no father! Melissa: Sperm doner was it? Me: *gives up* No, it was an immaculate conception. I'm giving birth to the next messiah. And angel told me to call him Tim. Random, but it reminded me of your story. Ooer Thea!!! fist thing i have to say is hi ;D and second thing is DO NOT DENY CHUBBA CHUB EINSTEIN RUSSELL BRAND DRACULOND GARRETT-SMYTHE [aka Chubba Chubb] OF HIS RIGHTFUL FATHER!
|
|