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Lebrenth
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 Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 10:23 am Post subject: |
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I like the idea of using Lia's talents. She's accustomed to working with difficult ... people, but I'm sure there isn't too much difference between a homicidal mobster and a talking reindeer.
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Welcome To Purgatory - current storygame
Please visit my Library of completed works.
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 7:30 pm Post subject: |
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I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story, Stoat. I think the best parts are all the funny descriptions of smells, sights, and sounds which make the story quirky and slightly surreal but worth a good chuckle. The archetypical Abbot and Costello characters are also quite amusing and provide a great foil for each other, as well as some snappy, fun conversation. Personally I dislike that they have been separated from each other-- I hope they will be reunited soon. What a great read.
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 Chapter 5: The Rendezvous 
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 11:23 pm Post subject: |
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Thanks D. Glad you could join us 
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 3:47 am Post subject: |
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Christmas is over, writing begins. It looks like Lia is going to dazzle the reindeer with her accountancy skills *rubs hands in glee*
Chapter 3 on the way soon (ish)
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 9:25 am Post subject: |
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Chapter Three: Soup and Coffee
Pride or food? Sammy's stomach rumbled. Okay, no contest there.
Trousers or pride? Could you even have one without the other? He doubted it.
Food and trousers and pride?
Now that sounded more like it. Sammy tottered back around to the front of the cabin, his mouth set in a line of firm and stupid determination. He raised a hand to knock at the door, lost his balance, stumbled back a few paces and windmilled his arms like the world's last dodo trying to escape the cookpot. Somehow he managed to stay upright and tried again. This time he was rewarded with a solid rap on the door.
A few seconds later, it opened. He drew himself upright.
"A man has a right," he said, poking his finger toward the goat in front of him, "to demand..." he paused. "... food. I mean... trousers. A man has a right to cover his legs. You... you goat-faced goat... are nothing but a thief who steals things that belong to other people that rightfully own them! You stole my trousers. My dignity. My pride. My... my dignity. That's what it's all about. If you don't have dignity... you don't have anything." He ignored the small voice within – the voice that was telling him that if that was true, he was really sunk – and pressed on regardless. Another phrase clung to the sticky recesses of his mind. "My human rights have been violated. Violated! I demand compensation. I want food. And... and... a place to sit down. And more food. And I want my trousers back! Reshpeckt, sir, that is what I demand! And I will not settle for less."
The goat peered at him, and the air became still between them. Then:
"Daaaad!" he bellowed over his shoulder, "I think it's for you!"
Sammy blinked hard. The goat in front of him disappeared, to be replaced by a larger, more solid model. Despite a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he took a deep breath.
"Listen," he said. "A man has a right to legs... and to cover his food... and violation of his dignified lefts... I mean rights... I mean..." he gave up. The moment was gone. "Where are my trousers?"
"Oh," said the goat. "It's you. Well, you'd better come in, I suppose."
The goat man gestured and Sammy stumbled inside. He sat down on one of the stools before he could fall over, aware of at least seven pairs of eyes watching him.
"Why" spoke a voice that could have put the edge on razor blades, "have you invited that human into our home, Binny?"
"Sorry, my love, my sweet, it's just that he..."
"Yes?" With a single slice of a word, the pert-breasted goat woman silenced her husband. He looked down at the cabin floor.
"He stole my trousers!" Sammy piped up, and then leaned back in his seat against the force of the she-goat's stare.
"Is this true?"
"Not so much stole. Not really. Just... borrowed, my sweet," mumbled Binny, his skin turning an uncomfortable-looking red.
"I see. You borrowed them. And you were going to give them back when? After we'd eaten our trouser soup?"
"Trouser soup?" Sammy clutched the table as he stared at the cauldron. "You put my trousers in that pot? That's outrageous!"
"Indeed," snapped the she-goat. "Who knows what germs you've got all over them!" With Sammy cowed, she turned back to her husband. "Binny Tum'n'Ass, you promised you'd foraged those trousers from natural resources! I should have known you wouldn't be capable. Should have suspected you'd lie to me! To your family! You're nothing but a low-down, no-good sneaking, slinking..."
"Natural resources?" Binny's voice had risen, high and desperate. "What, you think trousers grow on trees?"
"They did in the old land!"
"Not here, Nan! Not here." Binny ran a hand through his mane of wild hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I just saw a perfectly good pair of trousers and I thought... well, what did you expect me to do? I've got a wife and six kids to feed! Would you rather be eating from the popcorn bushes? Or seeing the little ones popping handfuls of snow into their mouths? I had no choice!"
"Let me just get this straight," said Sammy. "You put my trousers in the soup? You were actually going to eat my trousers?" He was feeling a little sick – at least as much from the fact that he was still as hungry for the soup as he'd been before he knew the ingredients. He imagined he could even smell the faint aroma of three bean burrito coming out of the steam-pot. On the other hand, that might just be lingering from his boxers. Better not to mention it, just in case.
"I saved some," replied Binny. "For breakfast," he added, shamefacedly. "You can have them back if you like."
His wife glared at him. Nevertheless, she produced a bundle from the cubby behind her chair and held it up for Sammy to see.
He stared. And grimaced. What was left of his trousers looked more like brown corduroy bermuda shorts now. He leaned forward to take them, aware of a weight on his foot as one of the little goats clung to his leg, gurgling with delight.
"Take them and get out," Nan said.
Sammy struggled into the shortened version of his trousers again, blushing as two of the kids giggled in one of the corners. "Uhh... don't you have anything to eat that isn't trouser related?" tried Sammy, as his stomach gurgled in impressive five-part harmony.
"What do we look like – a home for snow-eating morons?" she snarled.
"You really shouldn't get involved in that stuff," said Binny, sounding apologetic.
Sammy blinked. "You mean you don't? But man, it's all around you. It's everywhere! How come you all aren't raging junkies?"
"Junkies?"
"You know, addicts!" Sammy's stomach gave a distinct pyoioioioing!!! and he winced.
Binny's brows furrowed. "It isn't addictive, human. And it might taste good for a while – it might even feel great – but it rushes through your system like pupu root and comes out the other end like glue. You wouldn't catch me taking so much as a sniff of it!"
"Ah." Another horrible protestation arose from his stomach and he began to sweat. He was suddenly aware that, just as the delightful haze of narcotics was fading from his brain, the dreadful volcano of gas was beginning to build up in his bowels.
"Do you guys have a bathroom I could use?" he asked, his face a bright mask of perspiration.
~
"Well?" Came the peevish voice from the wagon.
Lia made a decision. She was on her own. Well, it wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last. The most important thing now was to take advantage of the situation.
"Do I look like a grunt to you?" she snapped. "Unload them yourself. I need to inspect the cargo."
"Inspect the cargo?" The reindeer cocked its head, antlers askew, making it look like the world's most drunken hatstand.
"Surprise audit," she said, drawing herself upright.
"Nobody told me."
"That pretty much covers the word 'surprise'," she fired. "Now get unloading. And shut that dwarf up!"
"... this vehicle is reversing... this vehicle is reversing... this veh... urk!
A swift blow with the butt of the whip sent the jingling dwarf sprawling onto the path. A second later, the wheels of the wagon rolled over him, crushing his body as he yowled and screamed. Finally, his body went limp and he fell silent.
Lia felt bile rise up in her throat. She hadn't seen anything that callous and inhuman since the Shark's last birthday do.
"What?" demanded the reindeer. "It's only a dwarf! Plenty more at the depot."
"Wh... Uhh..."
With a final crack of the whip, he brought the wagon to a stop.
"Look," he said, his voice assuming an almost kindly tone. "You're new here. That much is obvious. So here's a word of advice. Don't go up against the corporation. You'll end up in worse shape than the reverse-dwarf. It's bigger than me, and it's definitely bigger than you. Got it?"
Lia dragged her eyes away from the dwarf-kill. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Audit? Please! Everyone knows the Swamp-Biggles deal with the corporation's financial business." The reindeer sniffed. "You're certainly not a Swamp-Biggle. You smell way too good for that. You're just a human – and we all know what happens to humans around here."
Lia didn't like the sound of that. It was time to get back some of the momentum she'd lost.
"Look," she said. "I may not be an official auditor, but if there's one thing I do know about, it's corporations and employees. Chances are they're ripping you off, and you don't even see it. For example, the company employs you, yes?"
"Well, of course."
"And is this their wagon, or yours?"
"It's mine – but I really don't see..."
Lia nodded an clicked her tongue. "Just as I thought. You know, I'll just bet you're not claiming for wear and tear on your vehicle?"
"Uhh..."
"Do you have a contract?"
"A contract?"
"I thought not. Then wagon wear and tear is up for negotiation. And if they refuse, it'll be a matter for the union to sort out."
"Union?"
"We'll come to that later," she waved it away with one hand. "Trust me, they'll crumble."
"Wagon wear and tear." The reindeer's nose wrinkled. "You know, that dwarf left an awful mess on my rear wheel. I'll have to have it cleaned. Maybe even replaced. All out of my own pocket."
"Exactly." Lia tried to keep the triumph from her face. "And the whip. The harnesses. All yours?"
"Yeah." The petulant note was back in the reindeer's voice now. "Do you reckon they'll pay to have the whip cleaned too? I've got dwarf blood all over it!"
"Absolutely. And we haven't even got into pension plans, stock options, health insurance..."
"Right! Some of those dwarves have diseases! You think I could get hazard pay too?"
Lia paused. This creature had a one-track mind. Still, when in crazy land, you might as well nod and smile until you found your way to the nearest source of strait-jackets.
"Hazard pay," she said. "Sure. Why not!"
"You know," said the reindeer, "you could actually be onto something. Tell you what – the other wagon will be along any minute. It's late already. If you like, I can put in a good word for you and the driver will give you a lift to the corporation. And then, if they like you, maybe you could come back to the depot some time. I'm sure the other lads will be very interested in what you've got to say."
Lia hesitated. She'd been looking for a way to turn this state of affairs to her advantage – but was this really it? If this corporation was as big and ugly as the reindeer claimed, she wasn't even sure she wanted to run into it, never mind talking to 'the boys' afterwards. Then there was Sammy, back in the snow somewhere, probably getting himself into all manner of trouble.
Still, Sammy was like a rubber ball. Whack him and he bounced right back. He'd survive. And, really, if this world had anything to offer, maybe the corporation was her chance to get right into it.
A faint sound of rumbling wagon was coming from the distance. She made her choice.
"Why not," she said. "I've got nowhere else to be."
~
The phone rang. Morris snatched it up.
"Yes?" He listened, then nodded. "Right. Keep on it, just in case."
Putting the phone back on his belt, he walked down the corridor, each footfall uncommonly loud against the mosaiced floor. The hallway was silent and watchful, almost as if unseen faces viewed him from vantages invisible to him. Come to think of it, that was probably true. There'd be cameras everywhere. And easily washable stone tiles and walls, in case blood needed to be shed.
Shivering slightly, he crossed the hall and knocked on the oak door opposite.
"Enter."
Morris took a deep breath and went in. "Sir," he said. "The auction house is empty. The police are gone."
"Ahh," said the Shark. "The dogs have not found their bone. Very well."
"Yes Sir. And if you need anything else, Sir, just call."
"Morris?"
"Yes?"
"Yoohoo."
Morris blinked. He cocked his head.
"That," said the Shark, "was me calling."
"S-sir?"
"I do need you, Morris. You will be accompanying me to the auction house."
"Yes Sir. Of course Sir. But – why?"
"Because two pairs of eyes are better than one. Because you're already here, and already fully apprised of the situation. Because, if the police decide to show their faces again, it might be useful to have someone by my side who can talk fast and think faster. Because bodies are the proverbial bitch to dispose of single-handedly. And, son, because I asked you to. Any questions?"
Morris gulped. "No Sir," he squeaked.
Together, they entered the limousine on the front drive. There was no trace of blood on the windscreen or the upholstery, and the chauffeur looked too bright and perky to have worked with the Shark for long. Morris looked out the car window at the passing scenery and tried not to think of things red and splattery.
Being almost midnight, the traffic was nonexistent. They arrived at the auction house less than fifteen minutes later. The parking lot was deserted. A couple of faint security lights were weak additions to the full moon above.
Full moon. At midnight. Great. Just the perfect time to be going into a creepy warehouse with a psychopath in tow. He might as well put on a cheerleader outfit and wait for the nearest chainsaw to start up.
"Morris?"
The lawyer yelped and rubbed his head, where it had hit the car roof. He fumbled with the seat belt, wishing he dared to tell the Shark not to creep up on him like that. Somehow, while he'd been dreaming, his boss had got out of the limo, walked around the back of it, opened up Morris's side door and prodded him on the arm. There was no sign of impatience on the Shark's lean face, but then there never was. It didn't stop Morris's heart from pattering like a troupe of drunken tap dancers.
He stumbled out of the car and followed the Shark to the auction house. One locked door later and they were inside. With the lights on, the lawyer's fear somehow subsided. This was more like it. More normal. At least until they found those two traitors. Then the Shark's fun – and Morris's therapy bills – would begin.
"Have your men been watching the building?" asked the Shark.
"Of course."
"Are they watching it still?"
"Yes Sir."
"Then nobody has got in – or out? You are certain of that?"
Certain. It was such a... contractual... word. So final. So condemning if he was wrong.
Morris grimaced. "Yes Sir. They're still here. They must be."
"Yes." Incredibly, the Shark inhaled. "I can smell them."
Was his boss crazy for talking that way? Or was Morris crazy for actually believing it? Resolving not to think too deeply about it, the lawyer followed in the Shark's wake.
They looked under tables. They searched in the gaps between bookshelves. They opened every cubby and drawer as they went. But it was obvious they were heading toward the place that the camera had shown those two unfortunate employees hiding.
Within minutes, they were there. The Shark raised a well-manicured finger to his lips and grinned a gold-toothed grin. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled one more time. Nodding to himself, his eyes snapped open at the same time as he flung open the wardrobe doors.
"Ow! Bloody hell!" Morris held both hands over his nose and tried to hold back the pounding pain of a wardrobe door hitting him in the face. His eyes watered and he prodded carefully, trying to work out whether the nose was broken or not.
The Shark raised his eyebrows. "Do try not to get in my way, my boy. You might get hurt."
Through clenched teeth, Morris ground out, "Yes Sir."
"Come here."
He stumbled forward, reluctantly.
"What do you see?" asked the Shark, pointing at the wardrobe.
"Umm... an empty wardrobe?"
"And yet..." The Shark sniffed again. "They are here. Get inside."
"P-pardon?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
I wish you wouldn't. He didn't say it though. He just padded into the wardrobe's interior and tried not to whimper as the doors shut him in. He's always hated enclosed spaces. Ever since the Eton Chess Club had made him play pairs-hide-and-seek with Lenny the Lech. As darkness enclosed him, he found his back pressing against the wood of the cabinet, and heard the sound of his own panting, echoing back on him from all sides. Then, suddenly, there was no wood against his back and he was stumbling, falling...
... onto cold, hard ice.
He looked around and shrieked in a tone that would have made a concert soprano proud. On either side of him was a polar bear, rearing up with snarling mouths and great claws at the ready. His hands and feet moved, pushing him backwards. But the floor was slippery and he was already sat down. He went nowhere, and the polar bears loomed, silent and still.
Still?
He took a closer look and gasped. They weren't bears. They were statues – made of ice. Huge, crystalline models, carved by someone who either had genius or way too much time on his hands.
Even though he knew – he absolutely, positively knew that they weren't real, he still couldn't move. He could only stare, his gaze locked on those powerful jaws, until a voice broke him out of his reverie.
"Well well. What do we have here?"
The Shark had found him. Morris didn't know whether to be delighted or even more horrified than before.
~
“Daaaaad! He's been in the outhouse for two hours now!”
“I know, son.”
“But I want to go!”
“Look - just go in the forest, okay?”
“I don't want to go in the forest!”
“Binny Tum'n'Ass, you get that human out of our privy, right now!”
“Yes, my sweet.”
There was a knock at the door. Sammy looked up from between strands of his sweat-dampened fringe.
“Look - man – you have to get out. I'm sorry about your trousers and all, but this is too much!”
“Is he gone yet?”
“No, my love, but...”
“Can't you even do one simple thing without me? Just break down the door!”
“You don't want to do that.” Sammy was surprised by the hoarse croak his voice had become. Grimacing, he stood up, using the walls as supports. “Brace yourselves.”
He unlocked the outhouse door and pushed it open. The goat man and surrounding young ones all stepped backward, as one.
“I've changed my mind,” said the kid, wrinkling his face up. “I'll go in the woods.”
He trotted off. Sam walked out on wobbly legs and brushed the hair back from his face. His head felt clear now. His stomach felt like there was a civil war going on in there. And his mind? Well, he was still trying to get it around the fact that he was in a wardrobe-world, talking to mutants who thought trousers were part of their five-a-day! I mean, yeah, goats were supposed to eat anything, but...
“Look,” he said to Tum'n'Ass, “you owe me an explanation.”
“I-”
“Binny! Have you got through that door yet?”
“Dad, I'm hungry!”
“Dad, I'm bored!”
“Daaaaddeeeeee!”
The goat man looked around, a trapped expression on his face.
“Let's walk,” he said. “I'll answer your questions... but not here. Okay?”
“Fine.” Heading off at a ginger pace, the two of them put some distance between themselves and the cabin.
“What do you want to know?” asked the goat-man at last. “And make it quick!”
Too many questions, too little time. Sammy opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say until the words emerged...
~
"How long until we get there?"
It was the first question Lia had managed to inject into the conversation. The new wagon driver – some sort of silvery ferret creature – a stoat, perhaps – was a champion talker. They'd been driving for twenty minutes now, and the word-to-breath ratio was truly remarkable.
"Not long now, Missus, not long. 'Course you can't see through the mist on these roads, don't know what the authorities are up to, all this mist, turrible driving conditions, why only last week I got lost at the junction south of Cor's Crossin', took me two hours to find the right road again, had to replace two of me best dwarfs AND re-grease the suspension on me wagon, and then me shipment was late and ... oh, will you just look at what that one's gone and done now!"
Grumbling to himself, the weasel creature halted the wagon and slipped down from the driver's seat.
"Well, don't just sit there. Hand me the bags!"
Lia blinked. Following the line of the pointing finger, she pulled out a handful of bright orange tight-weave sacks from the crack between two wood-planks, and threw them down to the wagon driver. The creature caught one, stumbling back as it was almost as large as he was. Grumbling, he knelt down and began to scoop up a patch of something solid and malodorous on the path.
"You see what they make us do now?" moaned the stoat. "We've only gotta clean up after these flamin' creatures! They do the dirty in the middle of the road, suddenly us drivers are on us hands'n'knees pickin' up whoopsie off the ground. Does that sound fair to you? No it does not! Flamin' Dwarf and Safety regulations!"
"Uhh... Dwarf and Safety regulations?"
"Aye. It didn't used to be like this y'know." The ferret slunk back into his seat, hauling a knotted bag in its wake. "Back when we had different wagon-teams, there was none of this regulation muckery. Then that lot became extinct and we had to use dwarves instead. Suddenly it's 'mind you feed em' this and 'gotta give em legal amounts of rest' that, and business is right down the pan before you know it."
"You made a race extinct?" Somehow, Lia had been expecting more from this place. Its fairy-tale settings – even with the narcotic snow and the meat-and-two-veg trouser robbers – had taken her in. Somewhere along the line, there should have been stallion-riding Princes, and girls who danced through the forests, attracting small rodents with the sound of their ukelele-playing, and things like that. Not the same sort of crap that went on in her own world, with slavery and mega-corporations, and genocide! She felt a pang of disappointment, even as she mentally thwacked herself for being a stupid idealist.
"Only one, Missus," replied the stoat, sounding defensive. "Only the elves."
"So you had Dwarf and Safety, but never any..." she groaned. She wasn't going to say it. Wasn't even going to think it!
"When will we get there?" she repeated.
"Right... about... now." The weasel cracked the whip and the wagon began a laborious turn. Bells began to jingle, and this time the familiar refrain of "this vehicle is reversing..." was met by a number of figures emerging from the mist.
As they came closer to the wagon, Lia noticed they were all human. She found herself smiling, more in relief than true happiness. It was nice to be reminded that normality existed. If not here, then at least somewhere.
And then the reindeer's word came back to her.
We all know what happens to humans around here.
As they proceeded with unloading the cargo, she got a closer look. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. Sure, they were all dressed the same – in red shirts and black trousers, with peaked caps on. And yeah, none of them smiled. But they seemed to be getting a way better deal than those poor sods of dwarves on the wagon!
"Well, this is it, Missus," said the weasel-thing. "Time for me to be off. I've gotta get over to the fort by nightfall, and these dwarves'll want bedding up with a soft blanket and a bleedin' cuddly toy no doubt. Dwarf and safety indeed! I'll give 'em dwarf and safety."
"Is this it?" asked Lia, peering through the mist. "Is this the corporation?"
"Local branch. Just follow the workers, you'll be fine. See you next time... if you make it."
And with that cheery remark, the stoat cracked his whip and sent the dwarves trotting off again. Lia found herself alone in the mist, with only the faint outlines of humans on one side and the faint shape of a wagon on the other.
Not seeing any other choice, she followed the road in the direction of the crate-carrying humans. For fifty paces or so, there was nothing but road, mist and turquoise grass. Then the shape of a building began to emerge from the fog. It was large, but certainly no sky-scraper. Lia hurried toward it, straining to see more details.
There it was. The orange brick facade, the soft light spilling out from large, square windows... the green-painted sills and guttering, and the shape of lettering, high on the front face, above the shadowy shape of the door.
So this was the corporation. Lia stopped, her eyes scrambling to make sense of the letters as they finally emerged from the mist.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Then the air rushed from her body, along with a single word.
"Starbucks???"
=====
The DP is for Sammy: What is upmost in his mind now? What question/questions does he most want to ask of Tum'n'Ass?
And Lia: Now that she knows more about what's going on, what's she going to do next?
Suggest away. Have fun. Create chaos. I'll be the one in the corner, curled up into a fetal ball, sobbing quietly 
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 11:43 am Post subject: |
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*giggles, mutters elf 'n safety to himself, and giggles again*
I'll be back with a proper comment at another time.
Happy Writing 
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 7:43 pm Post subject: |
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Well, Sammy should be getting some history on the place, the lowdown on its inhabitants and where he might be able to acquire new trousers.
Certainly Lia should just keep to the path and find out more about the Starbucks corp... approach with caution.
_________________
     
 CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...  
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 8:03 pm Post subject: |
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Awesome! ((i agree... "elf and safety"! EXCELLENT!))
Sammy: needs a drink of water, or whatever beverage is around, and some answers. He's going to ask where this land is- the name of it- and how it came to be attached to the wardrobe.
Lia: Order a hazelnut mocha latte, non-fat, hold the whip, with chocolate sprinkles. And perhaps one of those good chewy gingerbread molasses cookies (unless this land uses REAL mole-asses.).. or continue her charade and enter the staff area as a Worker's Health and Safety Liason, and try and ask a human for info on the Company.
_________________
......back and forth.....
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Jan 08, 2010 4:32 am Post subject: |
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Haha, 'elf and safety! 
Some excellent comedic writing there, brilliant stuff!
Right ho. Well, we never did find out where they do harvest those trousers from. The Nanny-goat said that trousers grow on trees in the old land. So I think Sammy will ask directions to the old land.
For Lia - well she's going to welcome human company and she needs to know what happens to humans so that she can be prepared for the worst.
But she's alone in the mist, with the faint shape of humans on one side and the faint shape of a wagon on the other.
Your use of the indefinite article suggests that this is not the wagon that is being pulled off into the distance, but another, unknown one.
I wonder if this is the wagon the humans are loading or unloading the crates from.
I'm going to suggest the not-so-obvious - and investigate the wagon.
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 12:17 am Post subject: |
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Great chapter Stoat! 
For Lia, I'd say talk to the humans, before doing anything rash. You don't go into the belly of the beast without knowing what you're getting yourself into. She should be able to blend in with them well enough, just to root out a little info.
As for Sammy, same sort of thing. Just try and find out more about the strange land that they are in, and what they have got themselves into. Though mabye, he would benefit from a babysitter of some kind! A stoat perhaps?
_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
 
 
  
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The White Blacksmith
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| Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 10:23 am Post subject: |
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Well, for Sammy I would say ask why he hasn't seen any other humans around. Questions about where this land is and how it became attached to the wardrobe and suchlike aren't going to get any good answers - imagine if a dwarf or something came up to you in the street and asked how this land got attached to a wardrobe. Tum'N'Ass isn't likely to know even of the existance of our world, so try to ask something which might not seem too out of place, while getting as much info as possible.
For Lia, I would say sneak around the building. Climb up the outside and break into an office or something - it doesn't sound like a human wandering into reception and bossing people about will be well recieved, and the humans aren't likely to know much beyond what they do and who they answer to. She needs to know a lot of things, and the high-ups might have the answers.
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 3:17 am Post subject: |
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Another entertaining chapter, but I am not getting a strong impression of this weird world. I feel as though there needs to be something defining about the landscape, something suggestive which will imprint upon the reader's imagination a sense or organic completeness. The snow that is cocaine is a good beginning and it illustrates the picture clearly in my mind, but you need more. The elements in this world are disconnected. They are fractured because the only thing that holds them together is their strangeness. I get more of a sense of perceiving an environment that has shape but not form. What made Lewis' story great, I think, is that it all fit into place and held up rather well. The unifying element in your tale, at least descriptively speaking, is lacking in my opinion, although I am aware that this is more about a good laugh than anything else. On the other hand, it's rather late as I write this, and I might have not read very attentively. Nonetheless, that is my immediate perception after reading your latest chapter, for whatever it's worth.
The good news is that the characters, at least the two protagonists, are fleshed out and interesting. I'd prefer them to be together, but you are handling the separation decently. For the DP, to put myself in the brother's mind: I think that because of his nature and his incapability to think for himself, he would cling to people for help. Thus, I would think that he'd see our man-goat as a possible friend. The questions he would ask would vary from: "Did you know that when you found me I had just fallen there from a wardrobe in another world?" to "Do you know where my sister is?" or even the classic "Where am I?"
Whatever he asks, I think he won't let the goat go, he'd feel too insecure left alone, at least at this point.
His sister, on the other hand, is more cunning. She sees this new world as an opportunity to make money. Hell, she would have quite a business just by selling all that free coke back in her world for exorbitant prices. Who know, maybe snow is crack in this world, and she'd make profit as a middle woman. Anyway, before she rushes into anything I think she'd be sneaky and try to infiltrate the corporation to find out what's going on. Just like she was sneaky when she worked for the Shark.
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 4:16 am Post subject: |
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Catched up I have, and it was a wonderful chapter, Stoaty even!
I say Lia stays in character, as such as it is, and march in there and demand a latte.
Mind you, I dread to think what they use for money. 
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 12:17 pm Post subject: |
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First part of the poll's up. Decide Lia's fate, if you please. And if you don't... I might cry 
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 3:20 am Post subject: |
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Lia will go searching for Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the candlestick... or something like that. She'll sneak around and find out what she can anyway.
As for Sammy, what question is foremost on his mind? Your choice, as always.
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 2:23 am Post subject: |
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10 votes! When's the next chapter coming?
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Masterweaver
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| Posted: Tue Aug 17, 2010 5:15 pm Post subject: |
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Broke the tie, and I want Sammy to have a breakdown.
As for Lia, I suggest she do the SENSIBLE thing, and steal a history book.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Sun Aug 22, 2010 8:59 am Post subject: |
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I was extremely temped to tie it again but...
I'm looking forward to seeing more of this crazy world.
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| What's the question burning on Sammy's lips? |
| Who else lives around here - and for the love of god, why? |
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23% |
[ 3 ] |
| Why do you all live in the back of a wardrobe? |
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7% |
[ 1 ] |
| Where can I find me a good tree harvest? And what's this about the old land? |
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15% |
[ 2 ] |
| I want history! Wars, Kings, major disasters, annual rainfall. Tell me everything! |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Why is everyone in this land a freak? Sorry, I mean, where are the other humans? |
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15% |
[ 2 ] |
| No questions. Just stay with me, I can't handle this alone! |
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30% |
[ 4 ] |
| Stoaty's corner, do not pass go, do not collect £200 |
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7% |
[ 1 ] |
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| Total Votes : 13 |
| Who Voted: Chinaren, Crunchyfrog, D-Lotus, Ingrothechundyer, Judge Frollo, Lebrenth, Masterweaver, Phantomfan, scissorkitty, Shady Stoat, Smee, The White Blacksmith, Tikanni Corazon |
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