Looking for the Fairy Court

 





  Getting Closer
 


 Found a seat at court.

 

How does it go again?

Once upon a time. 
That's a good start.
Except that it's never once, and time keeps on moving forward even if you're not ready for it to do so. 

If you're still keeping  up with these musings of mine I commend you.  For starters I've been a bit off my rocker of late.  Stress, depression, and all of the other things that go along with eating disorders and self esteem issues have a way of doing that to a person. 
So I'll make a deal with you oh intrepid and somewhat masochistic reader. 
From here on out it's going to be story time. 
Either fictional stories or real stories.  It doesn't much matter. But stories none the less.
I've been running around the same mulberry bush trying way to hard to fix myself when in reality the only problem I have is being comfortable in my own headspace.  And I'm not really certain when, where, or how that started but it did.  The stress of it made me Mark Watney Skinny and drove me more than a little batty.

But here we are now.  Almost back to a healthy weight and doing it right this time.  Given up on all of my vices save for video games for now.
Truth be told Video Games aren't so much a vice as they are a rock that I've held onto through out these crazy storms.  Video Games are where my friends are, where I connect with people and share adventures with even if those people aren't right next to me. 
So that's why I'm starting my Youtube channel up with a little bit more fervor.  To share my adventures with the people that maybe aren't quite as inclined to play or don't have the skills to keep up.   Maybe introduce you to some of my friends that I go on those digital adventures with. 

Also, to share in my cosplay adventures.  Because much like Video Games; Role Playing and Cosplay are two things that make me truly happy.  Dressing up and pretending to be a grand hero or what have you is fun.  It makes me smile, and sometimes it makes other people smile. 

Like the late night that the Sheriff met Robin Hood and Friar Tuck. 

It was a cool autumn evening and myself and some friends were at Oberon's Tavern. 
Yeah you read that right I was at Oberon's Three Penny Tavern.
The real one.
We had enjoyed food and drink and us merry revelers were strolling through the park when we saw a bear.  A real bear.
 It was just ambling across the path and disappearing into the trees.   
Keep in mind that this was in the wee hours of the morning when night isn't sure it's ready to give up it's hold on the world and the day is still a few hours from starting. 
We were a touch pickled, but not so much so that seeing a real bear didn't sober us up to the point of deciding to head over to the Local P.D.s office and let them know that there was a real and present danger lurking in the underbrush.
 We  knocked on the door and after a few moments a bleary eyed officer opened the door on our small troop of Merry Men.
I, the obvious leader, started to tell the officer what we had saw, but he held up his hand and said. "Give me a moment here. I need a second to appreciate that Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are standing in front of me."  He smiled and then said "Go Ahead."    I then proceeded to tell him about the bear.
The officer smiled again and informed us that the bear was indeed a resident of the park and was mostly harmless and avoided people.  That the park authorities were aware of it's presence and were already working on a way of getting it safely out of the human park and back into it's natural habitat that was in the hills behind said park. 
After that he laughed, told us to have a good night and so then we exited.
Not perused by the bear.

A keyboard for me?

I finally have a keyboard under these fingers again. 
Temporarily at least.
Right before I went to the hospital....long messy story...my laptop broke.
I might have had a little something to do with that. 
Seeing porn you think you know someone you care about in it changes the game a little bit in that regard.  And yeah, my laptop paid the price.
But I can still dictate to that phone thing at least.  Squeak out some of my thoughts in a slightly more ham-fisted way than previously.   But I still prefer the keyboard.  It feels a little more natural when trying to get my thoughts out in some sort of revisit able way. 
I was just looking over a couple of those pieces that I did as dictattion/texting.   Woof...I'll need to revisit those in the future and see if I can't suss out what I was trying to say so that it can be understood.  |Even knowing what it was supposed to say I had to scratch my head a couple of times for the lack of editing. 

Then again, I'm not really sure that a phone is the best way to get some of these thoughts out.
I try desperately to find some of that old chat-room magic.   You know, the exhilaration of speaking with people who could be anyone, anywhere.  I say speaking, when my fingers used to do all of the actual conversation in those places.

But I miss it. 
I miss this.
Well kind of this.
There are parts missing here.
The other side of the conversations.
The perspectives that would help shape my words into something more understandable.
The ideas that used to be thrown around with so much earnestness that you'd think actual world changing effects were happning.
And when I really think about it, they were.
I mean, I wouldn't be anywhere near the person I am today if it weren't for the thousands of strangers I conversed with in scroll of words that people left behind.

For those of you who have never been in an actual chat room I'll break it down for you the best that I can.
Think a website like Reddit or Facebook.
 Except no pictures and no videos, just text.  Because the internet couldn't handle the rest of that information with anything boarding on alacrity.
 Think a half hour or more to download a thirty second video.
Yeah, buffering wasn't really a thing then, or streaming. 
But more Reddit than Facebook because people didn't have to fill out their profile information, could have a hundred different user accounts.  And the maximum amount of chatters in any given "room" (read "server" for you gamers out there) was only a couple dozen at most.  Sometimes more when things got a little better.

For me though, those little havens of anonymity and storytelling where one of the few places I've ever felt safe in the world.  Which is funny because they are not a physical places.  Just a digital space that my mind would play in while sitting somewhere less than desirable in the real world. 

Funny how easy it is to ignore the grit and grime of your world when there is someone typing out their thoughts on the grit and grim in their world.  Or, even better and where I spent most of my time in the digital landscape, were the RP chatrooms.  Where chatters would take turns typing out paragraph long descriptions of their characters actions.  Would hold court, fight duels of honor, train with hallowed warriors, travel, visit, love, loose, and laugh all to the clacking of a keyboard.

That is what I really miss about coatrooms and why, as a gamer, I get so frustrated with MMORPGs.  'Cause, from my experiences with them so far they should just be called MMRGs.  Leveling does not a role playing game make.  Taking on a character and trying to act with in their moral guidelines, holding conversations as that characters, and slowly building a reputation for that character. 
That is role playing.
Compelling characters, sweeping backdrops, telling stories.  
That's role playing to me.
That's why I miss chat rooms.
Because as a chatter, and with a couple of other people dedicated to their character(s) an entire novel could be written in a night or two.
And that's what I want to see again. 
Writing.
 From me.
 From my friends.
From my compatriots.
And from there, who knows. 
But at least getting some real writing done again will be nice.
That social media crap is for the birds.  
Yeah, I'll keep posting pictures and stuff so that people can check in on me if they feel so inclined, but I'll be damned if I'm going to live my life on the damned thing anymore. 
Because social media is not chat rooms. 
There's more scrolling and less interaction.
Less need for language.
Less need for stretching these here fingers over some keys for an evening. 
And hopefully finding a handful others that might have the same though.
But until then.

I find a ship.
I find a job.
And then I keep her flying.
And that's about all there is to it.

Holidays....amiright?

A
So happy holidays.

I hate wishing people happy holidays.

Because for me, for so many years, the holidays always started around July and ended somewhere in the neighborhood of May.

I love Christmas though, and Hannukah. And every other winter holiday under the book.

Mostly because spring holidays and Fall holidays usually surround working; working your ass off or enjoying the fruits of working your ass off.

Summer holidays usually  revolve around either starting or preventing fires.

Winter holidays, those are the ones where you're just grateful to be alive. Just grateful to have the opportunity to share a story with another person.

At least that's how it was for me before the modern age spilled over into the physical world.  In the modern world you get pretty bad storms from time to time but mostly it's just a minor inconvenience rather than the months-long shut in  one  might have experienced just a few short decades ago.

Now.

it's about finding excuses to stay home, finding reasons to slow down the pace of the world for a little while to enjoy the company that one may have. Friends or family or pets.

Or not.

Me personally, I usually go for the or not. Mostly because a lot of people always say never forget 9/11...

can't believe it's in my phone even

When the truth is for those that had to deal with and experienced it as a  real part of their day had to deal with it through the holidays. After everyone else had changed the channel.

Hard truths about that: is that there is no Channel changing button in real life. And when those things are part of your everyday a person  can watch it, help it, or get out of the way.
Me?
I roll my sleeves up.

For me holidays '01 meant standing long vigils waiting for planes to come in the middle of the night. Picking up shifts so that my friends with families could spend that time at home with theirs. And somewhere along the way, trying to find little ways to make people smile in spite of everything that the world was trying to throw at that point in time.

Now: means trying desperately to become comfortable with crowds again and coping with chronic pain throughout most of my body.

Luckily I have a strong support network around me. One I didn't even know was there until I fell down. One that I continue to avoid even though it has caught me each time I've stumbled since.

I can be pretty bull headed.
But always thankful.
And I still light my candles.

A few days later.

~~ Eliant-21-1362dr

Nethentier

Dusk falls on a fetid harbor washed blessedly clean by a cool rain that gave the harbor a glow like fire as the setting sun dipped below the storm clouds and quickly sliding below the horizon.  The docks bustled with newly arrived sailors hurrying to move cargo to the warehouses and themselves to their warm meals.   The captain counted out their pay for the work they had done on the journey and offers to pay a couple of the smaller coins in the remaining pile to help finishing unload the remaining cargo.  After the work is done they say their farewells to some of the more jovial crew members and head off to their favorite haunts.   A stout Jovial shadow shouts over towards the group  that the "Gurgling Mermaid" would serve as well as any other dive on the waterfront if they didn’t find anything better.   The time of day tells them that pickings may be slim at this hour so they head down the winding cobblestone street in the direction indicated.  

The partys footsteps splash through shallow puddles that hide in the shadows of multi-storied building further down the waterfront a violent splash draws Arinel's attention to a sack hurling through the air.  Sea weed and moss land with a distinctive slap on the stones at  the elven womans feet.  She carefully opens it, making room for Rin to see as she does. Inside are several fresh cuts of fish, freshwater, mussels and a beautiful clam-shell case The cases gold clasp glistens cheerily in the light from a nearby common house.

The archer reaches in and pulls the case out of the other contents, shaking away bits of loose seaweed. Her long delicate fingers open the case with a satisfying click between her fingers allowing the lid to fall back and reveal a small trove of silver and pearls with a large sapphire nestled comfortably in the strange fabric of the clam-shell interior.   They continue on their way to the appointed "inn" and were greeted by a lewd sign of a mermaid and a fisherman. The diminutive cleric shrugs and waves the party to follow before through the garishly painted front door.

After bartering for a clean room, the matron of the house claimed it a bargain prices at the ridiculous price before pointing out that the only reason she had an available room was because one of her girls had given birth that morning. And told them they were welcome to try some of the more prim establishments up the road. The small cleric paid the coin and moved as quickly as he could to the room. The parties heads swiveled as they followed.

After finding their appointed room Rock looks the plush accommodations over with wry twist at the corner of his eyes before calling down a blessing to cleanse the bed. After the blessing is complete, the incense still hanging cloingly in the air, Rock began stringing up his hammock between two of it's posts while Arienel and Evie strip the bed of it's coverings and then lay their own bedrolls over the top. The pair get comfortable sleeping face to foot while Rin and Arian take up space on the floor.

You Tease

~~Elient-20-1362dr

*The middle of lake Umber*

The cool air of early morning worked better than a cup of gnomish tea for Rin. The fighter continued stretching as he looked out over the landscape.  His shoulders making a satisfying crackling.  The elfs sharp eyes caught sight of an overturned boat not far out from shore.  It’s underbelly rising and falling behind the waves as it bobbed in place.  As Rin looked closer he could just see the netting amongst the wriggling mass of fish Rins eyes spot a hand reaching above the surface.

Without hesitation the warrior elf clamps a dagger between his teeth and begins stripping his armor off.

Evie, the diminutive bookkeeper,  catches sight of the elf as he dives into the water and calls to the rest of the crew. Aranel, her own elven eyes drawn  the capsized vessel by the warriors splashes  leaps into the cold ocean water. . The two elves arrive at the overturned fishing dingy within moments of one another.   With knife and teeth they tear at the netting and are pushed back by an an explosion of fish as the net gives way.
From the tangle of slimy fish a grizzled merman swims away to the confusion of the elves.

Jesus Saves...for half damage.

First Son drew his focus from the doorway to each of the small feeds that ringed his vision. In his lower right was the roto drone Sally, straining with all of its power to keep itself airborne mere centimeters now from the ground. With quick movements from his hand, he gave it the command to turn and face backwards while it followed him out. He checked Sally's ammo loadout, noting she still A little cyber punk offering...

had a little over 60 rounds left.

Judith, hovering just inside the doorway, was scanning the interior of the room for viable targets. Judith was a nasty girl and had done most of the killing, leaving her with a sparse 35 rounds. He switched her fire mode over to single shot and plotted a course back out to the van with the command to stay within a meter of him at any given time.

Ronaldo and Caesar, the two little fly-spies, were perched on the wall and ceiling of the path out, monitoring the various doors and service lifts that let into the body of the club. First Son noted that they were clear save for the bodies of the Ancients who had been between he, the hovering ladies, and Jade.

His stomach turned a small flip thinking about what he had seen. Her eyes, her skin, all of the blood. It looked and smelled so real. Worse than a BTL, because he couldn't shut this one off. The metallic tang wouldn't leave his senses no matter how hard he tried. The sound of his own teeth gritting brought him back to the moment. He took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the smell of copper and keep from shaking. Then, with almost steady hands, he released the clip in his auto pistol, slipped the over-half-spent thing into his pocket, and loaded a fresh magazine.

First Son flitted over the video feeds once more while sending a boot command to little Carlita outside the club. A panda popped up into view and held up a sign saying “loading” where her vid stream would appear. With a deep breath, he gave Judith the move command and started out the door. Ronaldo and Caesar still showed the way out as clear, but First Son kept his finger twitching on the auto pistol’s trigger.

Stepping over two bodies that Judith had chewed to pieces outside the door, he paused for a moment, eyes lingering on one of the elf’s faces. He seemed... familiar, but First Son couldn't place where he knew the man from. It was all so... real. There was no shutting this off, no escaping from it. Actual blood was on his shoe. He noted as he walked forward that the bottom of his soles were coated in the stuff and left his own prints on the black pads of the club’s dance floor. He would have to buy new shoes, eventually.

A panda popped into Sally's feed looking worried and holding a sign saying “Bad Guy”. An elf sporting a blue mohawk and a nasty snarl was coming through the kitchen door, partially hidden by a booth in the way. Sally didn't have a shot - stuck so low to the floor as she was - but still the little motors on her belly-mounted machine gun strained to target him. Too late. The elf fired.

White hot pain bloomed in the middle of First Son's back and knocked the wind from his lungs.

“FUCK!” he yelled as he pitched forward and bounced off of a table to land hard on the ground. Dermal plating and the reinforced Kevlar weave of his jacket kept the bullet from puncturing him, but the kick was a bitch. His own vital readouts confirmed his suspicions as his vision came back. That cute little panda informed him (while adjusting a pair of golden reading glasses) that the combination of plating and kevlar would stop bullets without a problem. But Christ on a cracker, it still hurt!

As these thoughts ran through the hacker’s mind, Judith turned and fired a short burst. The elf had seen her in time to dive to the side. He landed with his head exposed to Sally. She groaned from weight and shifted to the right, and in a moment the elf was nearly split in two from belly to head.

Pushing himself to his knees, First Son kept his head down and checked Ronaldo and Caesar to make sure the way was still clear. As he was doing so, Carlita's little panda held up a sign saying “ready to go” and then First Son disappeared into a yellow smoke cloud, revealing a low angle of the street outside. There were three elves dressed in fine suites coming in from a side alley, just visible to him from around the edge of a tire. Two carried SMGs, their elongated banana magazines curving away beneath them. The third elf carried a double-barreled street sweeper. An archaic weapon, but effective enough to chew through most armor at short range.

First Son saw the elf with the street sweeper making gestures in the air with his hands. On a hunch, the young hacker scanned incoming and outgoing frequencies, and there it was. Mr. Street Sweeper was scanning and moving around interior cameras. Still recovering from the slug to his back, First Son picked up the feed the elf was tapped into and saw himself from third person, sitting kneeled on the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet and pulled a running animation from the matrix, transposing it over the feed and showed an image that at first glance looked like him running towards the front door. Mr. Street Sweeper took the bait. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum opened up with their SMG's at the door. Daylight punctured through the steel plating.

“Carlita. Deliver your present,” First Son said aloud while giving the command. Carlita's visual changed as she scuttled forward towards the backs of the three elves. In the her feed, a small feeler reached out and poked at Mr. Street Sweepers leg.

Outside, the elf felt a pinch on his leg and he looked down. At his foot was a small drone, about the size of a roach, carrying a solid ounce of plastic. His scream was lost in the SMG fire and Mr. Street Sweeper almost swore the little drone saluted him before the world exploded.

Carlita's feed went blank in First Son's vision at the same time that a tremendous roar blew the club’s front doors off of their hinges sending the holy portals skittering across the dance floor carrying bits of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum with them.

Fist Son nodded to the two drones flanking him. “Let's go, ladies,” he pronounced with the most bravado he could muster through the pain of the gunshots. He squelched through what was left of the trio as he pushed his way outside. His stomach turned as Sally's rotoblades sent gooey blood and small bits flying while she hovered over the street towards the van. First Son called Ronaldo and Caesar back as he opened the back door of Face’s van and lowered the ramp. Sally settled into the belly of it and he made his way to the cab while Judith secured herself to the roof.

Through the entire drive, First Son fought to keep himself together; fought to keep the realities of the situation from making it through the SIM filter that he usually saw these things through. It stayed with him - the smell, the feel of his foot slipping in blood. The fact that Jade was nestled inside of Sally's metallic body, burnt and...eyeless, to a degree. He focused himself on driving, building a completely new alias, and having that alias order a medi lift team to meet him at the safe house. They were paid triple to bring everything needed to treat the wounds he had seen on Jade and keep their mouths shut about it. Then, with the van on autopilot, he set about the grim task of rigging up Rosa, Carlita's twin, with a present to make sure the docs took what they saw of their patient to the grave.

Three hours later they arrived at the safe house.