He Looks A Bit Like Uncle Deadly

...but it wasn't intentional. I swear! Please don't come after me, Disney incorporated or unlimited or whatever you are. There are perspective problems, but aren't there always?

Many poems I write are just words strung together is ways that sound pleasing or humorous to me. I also enjoy giving things a vaguely prophetic tone to make it more ominous. As the Future, such at is is, looks largely like unknowable gibberish from our vantage point in the Present, it seems to work.

This is quite an old poem below, but it fits the description nicely.

It did indeed all come to pass, in ages long ago

We spirits men sought out as sage

Gathered ‘neath the storm’s black rage

And began anew the war we’d waged

That brought the Devil low

For though we once were sought as sage, our shapes are but as glass

In which secret fire again shall shine

Twisting us round through life’s bent line

Until cold stars swim in the murky brine

And it has come to pass.

The universe is older now, much longer are the miles

That pass between the moon and earth

With no hope of death or bright rebirth

And all our pow’r (for what that’s worth)

Must help us pass the whiles

For while the Dwindling’s snared my kind and our stories go unheard

Light passes through the side you see

It blows past whispers over me

The one and one fuse into three

I speak the silent word

Less Talk, Mor-lock.

"Idiot," he spat through clenched teeth, and he flung the stone at Dhorn with the all the force of his petulant temper. Slow as Dhorn's intellect was, it didn't apply to his body or reflexes. He ducked nimbly aside and the stone sailed past him. They both watched it arc across the small courtyard they were standing in, watched it hit the ground, bounce, roll, and then come to rest at the feet of… something.

It stood at the edge of the courtyard, not more than twenty five yards from them, squinting and blinking at the light although the day was still dark and overcast. It stood about four feet tall with long pale limbs that had an unpleasant rubberiness about them, as though they were underdeveloped in some way. It had a shock of white hair on top of its head that splayed in all directions, and it was dressed in soiled off-white rags. It peered at them with black and sunken eyes, in stark contrast to its puffy, loathsomely shiny white face.

  
All this they saw in a moment; then it was gone, as it leapt with simian agility through a dark hole in the decrepit stone structure beside it.

I'm two scotches in, why not an excerpt?

Why not indeed?

“It’s a pretty good scam, Kilbright,” admitted Dhorn. “Wonder why he didn’t let us in on it? Could have faked our deaths.”

“Probably didn’t want to split the payoff three ways,” growled Kilbright.

Valenya shook her head sadly. “Proving my point.”

Kilbright ignored her. “Regardless,” he said, “this could not have come at a worse time. We are both extremely busy men, you know. There are other matters requiring our attention.” He paused thoughtfully, peering into his goblet. “Perhaps it would be wise to delay our current Quest. At least until this business with the Wergild is sorted.” Without preamble, his right eye fell out of its socket and landed in his wine with a plop.

Valenya stood up quickly, almost upsetting the small table. “What…what…”

Kilbright peered glumly down into the cup. His eye bobbed gently in the crimson liquid, seeming to glare balefully back at him. “Of course, the Hunt must take priority. Our own petty legal concerns are of no consequence.” He looked back up at Valenya, who was pointing at him with a shaking hand. “You seem troubled, my lady. Is something amiss?” Both of his eyes were now perfectly normal, if a little bloodshot from fatigue.

“What…what the hell was that?”

Kilbright raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look! Just now! With your eye!”

“My eye, dear lady? I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.” He smiled sourly and took a sip of his wine.

 
Dhorn sidled up to Valenya. “He’s a bit sensitive about it. Best not to mention it, really,” he said.

Happy nevermind

Trying to post every month, new year's resolution already broken. Good to get it out of the way. I have nothing finished, nothing is ever finished, it just goes on and on and on...

Odd spot for an ear.

Does a lizard man riding a dinosaur make sense? Its like a man riding a gorilla.

Actually, it might be cool to ride a gorilla. Although probably less trouble to just get a person to carry you around.

Too much back story never gets used.

Just got a part in a play, although I haven't acted in 18 or 19 years. Was there a time when I could just keep lines of dialogue in my head to be recited upon command? I remember doing that a few times, although now it seems somewhat improbable.

Also improbably, I've been typing up my Nanowrimo story. Here's a bit  chosen more or less at random:

They had not needed the priestess’ warning to stay on the straight road; the passage they followed was the only one they encountered that seemed to go up. All the side passages they saw looked as though they were either level or dove back into the depths again. Besides, it was the only way that was lit, albeit with candle stubs and the stumps of torches, and the occasional brazier of foul-smelling dung fire.

The exception to this general rule was a chamber the tunnel intersected about halfway along their journey. Near the ceiling was a creature that appeared to be some sort of glowing serpent, which coiled and slithered through mid-air as it made a circuit around the room. It trailed a small plume of bluish smoke behind it, and it made a low chuckling noise as if it were enjoying some quiet private joke. Dhorn stared at it covetously as it floated overhead.

“Don’t be a fool,” Kilbright signed to him in the Thieves’ Secret Tongue. “Haven’t you noticed the lights have been going out behind us after we’ve passed? They’re following us. Filling one’s pockets is a fine thing, but there are times when one’s own skin must take priority. We must leave this hole with as much haste as we can manage.”  Dhorn continued to stare at the snake’s hypnotic movements as Kilbright pulled him through the doorway, and they continued on.

Got a long way to go before I'm finished, nothing is ever finished, it just goes on and on and on...

It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.

Busy couple of months. Went to London; many great memories and pictures, but the one I'd like to draw your attention to is this:

Now THAT is a dynamic image. He didn't mind the gap and he's paying for it.

Also, took part in National Novel Writing Month this year. This is what you get when you reach your goal:

So, hooray for me!


So, that basically took care of my October and November. In addition, my Shadowrun character was this:

But we're done playing that for now. Back to the D&D!