Keph's Random Ramblings

Discussion in 'Writers' Corner' started by Kephras, May 2, 2014.

  1. "So whatcha think, luv? You in?"
    Risse struggled to keep her expression neutral, but she felt her ears twitch in annoyance anyway. Her voice was tight, forced. "You haven't thought this through very well, Warren."
    The man across from her turned a dark red under the tan and weathered skin of his face, making the grayish stubble all the more visible. Heavyset, with yellowed teeth, a flat upturned nose, and small piggish eyes to match, he resembled nothing so much as a grumpy warthog. Coupled with a penchant for long, rambling tales and a tendency to snort when upset, it was little wonder his nickname in the back alleys was "the Boar." Or, if they were being less charitable, "Boar-en." A vein in his temple throbbed as he lowered his voice to a quiet grumble.
    "Listen missy, me'n Brody worked it all out just fine. Long as we stick to the plan, no harm'll come to anyone."
    Risse's tail lashed irritably as she hissed back, "I know how Brody 'works things out,' Warren. You popped the idea to him while half-drunk, he scribbled it down on a scrap of paper, and it sat on his desk for a week until he decided to notice it was there. He spent half an hour or less leafing through town records, talked to a footpad whose cousin's brother's best friend used to work there, and threw the whole thing together at the last minute." Her fierce retort turned the Boar an even darker shade of red, heading toward purple, as she continued, "You've got no contingencies, no fall-backs, one exit strategy, and you don't even know where the goods are, assuming you make it in at all! This isn't a plan, it's wishful thinking!"
    "I've been puttin' this together for a month!" he exclaimed, leaning over the table to glare at her, as if the force of his gaze - and perhaps his breath - would cow the halfbreed into compliance. Risse was one of the best thieves in the city, and he knew his heist had no chance of success without her. Risse, however, was long accustomed to his behavior and not at all intimidated.
    "And the jewels will still be there for another month," she answered firmly. "Think about it, Warren - what if one of your light-fingered apprentices gets ambitious or greedy and picks the wrong strongbox? The Montecci dragons keep some of their baubles in that same vault. You know what happens if you steal from a dragon."
    The color, purple and tan alike, drained very suddenly from Warren's face. "Aye," he choked. "Dead in a week." Seven days, nearly to the hour, before the offended dragon found the thief and claimed the perpetrator's life along with its belongings. No one knew how they managed it so precisely - no wizard, sorcerer, or magician had ever managed to find a magical link between a dragon and its treasure. Some priests claimed it was imbued with a portion of the dragon's soul, but none had found proper evidence of this either. And certainly, the dragons weren't telling. Whatever the reason, thieves had long ago learned that one never took treasure from a dragon without permission. Clearly, the Boar had forgotten that detail in his eagerness to penetrate the magistrate's vault.
    Risse breathed a heavy sigh, ears folding flat against her head. For all his faults, Warren was a friend. A friend who'd likely get himself or others killed without her help. "I'll do it," she relented. "But we're doing this my way, not Brody's. We need contingencies, alternatives, fall-backs - and proper information," the halfbreed added with a frown, waving a finger at him. "None of this third- and fourth-hand rumor mongering. I don't mind lightening the magistrate's pockets, but we'll do it properly. Understood?"
    The Boar nodded emphatically, some of the color returning to his cheeks. "Aye luv, we'll do it your way. We'll do it your way. When d'we start?"
    "Tonight. After dinner," she declared, motioning a waitress over. Warren was a frequent patron of this tavern, and the staff knew to keep their own business until called. Good manners were typically rewarded in a sizable gratuity. "Of course," Risse added, smiling sweetly at him,"you're buying."
    Warren grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. He was already counting the profits in his head. With Risse behind him, their plan couldn't fail. And after all, he told himself, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt him...
  2. Well I gueeeesss it was okay. :p LOL!!
    Sooo, when ya gonna add the next installment cause I'd like some more please. =D
    Kephras likes this.
  3. Wonder if I should start a writing thread, I do immensely enjoy the activity.
    crystaldragon13 and Kephras like this.
  4. My opinion? I think that would be a wonderful thing to do Sage. If it weren't for writers some of us would have no new worlds or adventures to experience past our own 'sphere' and experiences. There is a story out there for everyone of us .. some yet to be written .. be the story to that speaks to you and you'll find others more than will to come along on that ride. I mean .. look at what the Tiger's done .. how many of us have willingly tagged along .. waiting with baited breath to collectively live the story as it's unfolded? <3 I'm looking forward to what you have to offer and how that grows. Oh.. to answer the question. xD sure! I'd be interested
    MoreMoople and Kephras like this.
  5. Dear Mr. Kilroy,
    As you know, our research department relies exclusively on funding provided by grants from the state's educational budget. This budget is shared state-wide, and so it is necessary for us to be as economical as possible with any experiments we conduct here. This is especially true concerning the use of advanced equipment like the particle accelerator.

    For your understanding, the PA requires a minimum of fifty labor-hours for maintenance after each use. This is in addition to the substantial load it places on the power grid during operation, the wear on delicate and expensive sensor arrays, and the refined elements used in the accelerator itself. The total cost of operation is approximately $100,000 per use - not counting the two months spent cleaning the device after your last "experiment."

    Finally, there is the humane aspect to consider. While some of our research does rely on animal testing, none of these involve the use of our particle accelerator. After careful discussion with both the Board of Education and our own department heads, we can find absolutely no point of scientific knowledge to be gained from your latest research.

    For these reasons, we are revoking your access to the particle accelerator for one year and will be thoroughly investigating the scientific merit of your research. Additionally, we remind you that it is strictly prohibited to place a live sheep (or a dead one, for that matter) inside the acclerator's chamber.

    Thank you,
    Dr. Hamilton Wolcott, Ph.D
  6. ...And they were screamin'

    Why, why can't we watch Pewdiepie?
    Couldn't fav or sub a thing 'cause the website was fried
    No squealin' Markiplier, no jacksepticeye -
    Oh, this'll be the day the net dies
    This'll be the day the net dies...

    So Youtube apparently crashed today.
    If for some reason the reference above is lost on you, here is your context.
    Don McLean - American Pie
    Ritunn, 607, khixan and 3 others like this.
  7. Oh so poetic and now.. why oh why can't I see my Pewdiepie?
    Kephras likes this.
  8. Keph, please tell me you took part in the Poetry (and) or Prose contest.... I love reading through this thread, especially when i've been homebound and am bored xD
    Kephras and 607 like this.
  9. I did not. Writing is more of an escape for me, confronting deeply personal topics like "life changes" isn't something I'm inclined to do publicly. Maybe if the next one is more whimsical.

  10. I wonder what the intended effect of that image is.
    Kephras likes this.
  11. To make you ask questions. It worked!
    crystaldragon13 and 607 like this.
  12. Some super-classy Dad Jokes just for Hashhog and BK:

    You've read the Dr. Seuss classic "Hop on Pop," but are you familiar with the breastfeeding sequel, "Nom on Mom"?

    Marie, making 5th attempt to get infant latched on: "I suck at this."
    Me, across the room monching teriyaki chickens: "No, she's supposed to suck at that."

    ... "Not even a chuckle? Darn."
    "Sorry hun, I'm trying to concentrate on this."
    "Alright, well just keep me abreast of things."

    Yes, I resurrected this dead thread for boob jokes. You're welcome.
    ThaKloned, Canucks_, 607 and 7 others like this.
  13. One of these days I need to devote an hour or so to reading through this entire thread.
    607, __Devil_, Kephras and 1 other person like this.
  14. Tell her I said the reply she's looking for is "Moooooo". I said that to everyone for many many months ;)
  15. For the dozenth time, Sam looked over his shoulder at the flashing lights behind him. They didn't appear to be getting closer, but nor were they vanishing into the distance. In hindsight, arson probably wasn't the most subtle diplomatic solution he could've picked. "Well," he huffed, "I'm out of ideas. You got anything?"
    The Fish Man, whose name he still hadn't learned, nodded slowly. "I do, but you're not going to like it. Pop the trunk, would you?"

    Sam's chest tightened, forcing out a sound that was partly resigned sigh and partly terrified squeak. Fish Man was right, he didn't like this at all, but their present predicament had exactly two options, "Bad," and "Worse," and it was growing increasingly difficult to tell them apart. Hence the arson, for instance. "You sure you want to let him out?"

    "Look on the bright side," replied the Fish Man glibly, "at least they get their FBI agent back."
  16. Kephras, let me know if you ever write a novel :D
    Kephras likes this.
  17. Rocky dust clung to Kellet's footpads as he ascended the mountain. Just as his father had done in seasons past, and his father before that, generations down into half-forgotten folklore. The Sage had not spoken to any of them in so long, Kellet's people thought it was a myth. But ill omens and superstition were still a powerful force and they did not wish to offend Fate, so Kellet trod the well-worn pathway up the mountain to the peak where the Sage once lived.

    As Kellet rounded a bend, he was granted a magnificent view of the plains below. Red grasses rolled endlessly into the horizon, broken only by the serpent-like twisting of the river. His gaze drifted downwards, to the village nestled at the mountain's base. Though small, it had grown substantially in recent seasons as traders from up-river became frequent visitors on their way to the large port at the river's end, where it met the ocean. Some had even started bringing wares of polished copper and bronze. Kellet wondered what the Sage might have said about that. The secrets to working metal, no longer a secret? Interesting times lay ahead.

    By midday, Kellet had managed to climb more than two thirds of the way. Long of body and leg, with deep chest cavities and strong lungs, his people had begun as simple scavengers, omnivores who could travel a full day or more without rest, in search of their next meal. As the seasons turned and ages progressed, they grew more clever, learning to fashion crude bone tools from their carrion, protective wraps of hide for their footpads, clothing of woven grasses to better conceal their presence. They learned how to hunt, how to farm, how to read the passing of seasons and prepare for the future, and a thousand other things that continually edged them closer to civilization. At some point in the distant past, his ancestors had discovered the mountain and the river that wound past it. Shelter from the harsh storms of the Dark Season, irrigation and fishing during the Long Light - a choice location to call their own. Then, in a moment of curiosity, one had chosen to climb the mountain. When he returned, he spoke of a Sage who lived at its peak, a being of glowing light and endless wisdom.

    Thereafter, every generation made seasonal pilgrimages to the mountain peak to seek the Sage's advice and knowledge. It became a tradition, one that endured long after the Sage had ceased to appear. Kellet expected no different this time. He climbed to appease the village elders, and to enjoy the crisp cool air the mountain's height afforded him. An ominous dark smear on the horizon suggested he wouldn't have long to enjoy it, however. Storms were known to roll over the plains with frightening speed and fury. On the plains, the driving rain and wind would soak his clothes and lash his fur. On the mountain, it might well lift his fragile body and hurl him from the trail to his death. Perhaps tonight I will find where the Sage sheltered and share its abode, Kellet thought, quickening his pace. It had to have somewhere safe to reside.


    When at last Kellet reached the mountain's summit, the day's light had faded behind thick gray-green clouds and the sky was a disconcerting shade of purple. He could see a hazy line of darkness on the plains below. From his vantage point, the wall of torrential rain appeared to move slowly towards him, but Kellet knew that were he down on the plains, he could not outpace it at a dead sprint.

    «A storm will be here soon,» a voice behind him intoned.

    Whirling, Kellet laid eyes on something his forefathers had not seen in generations. On a wide, flat stone there stood a figure formed of light, white yet somehow not blindingly so, its outline a pale yellow hue. Taller than himself, it stood on two thick legs, its torso squat by comparison but sturdy. At its top were two more limbs, smaller than the legs but just as muscular, and a bulbous round head that swivelled to face him - though it lacked any distinct face. Shocked, Kellet dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before the figure. "I... m-my people, we... f-forgive me Sage, we thought you but a myth."

    The figure gave a deep laugh, resonant and warm, the sound echoing around the rocks. «SAGE is gone. I am GUARDIAN.»

    "Guardian?" Kellet rolled the unfamiliar word on his tongue. "Where has the Sage gone? I do not understand."

    «I will answer what I can, but please, shelter. A storm approaches and I must keep you safe.» Guardian gestured to the rock face, where there was a cleft in the stone just wide enough for Kellet to slip through.

    Odd. I do not remember a crack there before. Hesitantly, Kellet obeyed, squeezing through the narrow passage into a small cave, its floor sandy and warm to his footpads. Somehow, Guardian was waiting for him on the other side. Startled, Kellet turned to look behind him, but there was no other entrance - indeed, the crack he'd just come through was also gone. The room was sealed. As if sensing his mounting confusion, Guardian spoke again.

    «Do not fear, young one. I protect those who shelter in my shadow - you and your people need fear nothing but yourselves.» As it talked, Kellet felt an odd disorientation, as if the cave were somehow moving. «A storm approaches, and I must keep you and your people safe. You must tell them to seek refuge.»

    "I saw the storm from the mountain's peak," Kellet answered, puzzled. "Our homes have weathered many such storms. Why is this one different?"

    «That is just weather,» Guardian said, «and is of no consequence. The storm I speak of gathers far above the clouds, and will rain burning light and death upon your people.» The frankness in its voice sent chills through Kellet.

    "Who are you to threaten us? What happened to the Sage, who gave my village hope and wisdom?" Kellet felt his fear turn to anger, venting it on the strange apparition. "Storms that rain burning light and bring death? What sort of nonsense is that?"

    «ENOUGH.» Guardian's outline blazed an angry red, silencing the frightened youth. «The threat is not of my doing. I am GUARDIAN, and I will protect you. That is my duty. SAGE has done his, and is needed no longer.»

    Miraculously, a second figure, smaller than Guardian, burned to life right before Kellet's stunned eyes. This one's height matched his own, though its limbs were still brutish and thick, and it waved a hand at Guardian as if to calm the larger one down. «It would seem this one does need me,» the figure declared, a hint of amusement in its etherial voice. It turned its featureless gaze to Kellet. «Forgive GUARDIAN, this is the first time he has had to interact with your people in millenia.»

    "T-two... there are two of you..." Kellet slumped back against the stones, stunned. He was trapped in a small stone chamber with not one but two figures from myth itself. And the stones behind him were rumbling, faintly - he could feel their vibrations. Something within the mountain was moving.

    «Yes, young one. There are as many of us as there are stars in the night sky. If your people are clever enough, bold enough, and strong enough, you may one day meet the rest of us. But first, you must weather this storm, and for that you will need GUARDIAN's help.» Sage's tone was soothing, but still firm as he continued, «Go to your people, tell them to seek shelter within the mountain. We will protect all we can.»

    Kellet opened his mouth to speak, but both figures vanished before he could get a word out. Behind him, a gust of cold air washed over his fur, damp with rain. The gap in the stone had returned, yet as he slipped through the cleft, he found himself waist-deep in redgrass at the mountain's base. Heavy rains battered him, nearly obscuring the dim glow of reedlights from his village, now only a stone's throw away.


    The last denizens entered the Sanctuary, and GUARDIAN closed the doors with a satisfied rumble. One-hundred percent, secure and safe deep below the ground. Only empty buildings remained, and those were as nothing where collateral damage was concerned. None too soon either - heat signatures were already being detected burning through the thick atmosphere.

    It was time.

    Rock crumbled, shattered, roaring and grinding as it tumbled from the mountain-that-was-not-a-mountain, eons of geology sliding away to reveal the monster that slumbered underneath. An armored titan, rising up on six gigantic legs, a walking fortress bristling with weaponry. All across the planet, its brothers awoke from their deathless sleep, rising from seas and plains, glaciers and volcanoes, lifting their guns to the sky, ready to serve their purpose at last.

    The heat signatures slowed, the intruders in the sky above pausing in consternation and uncertainty as a Terran planetary defense system came to life below them. As one, the city-sized hexapods trained their weapons toward the craft, two dozen in all, each one warning of more than a hundred different weapons locked on. A transmission roared out, shaking the communication arrays with its power.


    Something I wrote for r/HFY.
    Eclipsys, jacob5089 and wafflecoffee like this.