Story Time in the Round's Journal (original) (raw)

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Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded inStory Time in the Round's LiveJournal:

Friday, October 2nd, 2009
_3:52 pm_[snazz]	18 Grover and his new friend slid outside into the harsh Xanadian atmosphere where another friend picked them up in a spacecraft. Views of other worlds simultaneously accompanied the sight of the spacecraft airlock opening for him, but he didn't miss a step this time. He was getting used to this whole multiple-view thing. Omniscience? Was this how a god would see things? Was he a god? The voices in his head disabused him of this notion.The airlock door closed behind him as he and his friend took seats behind the pilot in the small cabin. It seemed kind of wrong to have killed all those people back there in that hospital pod, like maybe something the old Grover wouldn't have done. What, exactly, had made the new Grover? Other voices shouted down these thoughts and he instead concentrated on his next task, which loomed ahead of him: stopping the Xanadu, which now flew only a few kilometers away from them."This is exciting!" gushed his friend at his side."Yeah, it's pretty cool," Grover agreed. "Not as good as Blissitol, though." The voices in his head frustratedly informed him that this was an incorrect opinion.Their pilot friend seemed to have some problems getting clearance to dock with their target, but then things cleared up. Within minutes, their small spacecraft had glided alongside the significantly larger Xanadu and had connected itself with the docking port. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 26th, 2009
_2:53 pm_[wackobob]	Seventh prime Jeremy Blitz was Captain of the Research ship Xanadu, on the planet named for the ship, deep in the Omicron Eridani system. At the moment, Captain Blitz was on the verge of panic. He'd faced crises during his tenure as a ship captain before, but nothing quite like this.The warning klaxons were relentless, a constant high-pitched droning broken only by the periodic computer reports, repeating, "Unauthorized depressurization of Medical Station A14. Security breach reported in Engineering Station H11 on pod 12.""Can someone please put together a coherent report of what is going on on this ship?!" demanded Captain Blitz."It looks like a crew insurrection, sir," reported Lieutenant Rothchild."I know that," snapped the Captain. "But why?"The lieutenant shrugged her shoulders helplessly.Jeremy scanned his bridge for someone he could berate into giving him useful information. The bridge was in a state of chaos, everyone bent over their terminals, checking and double checking air locks and security protocols, struggling to throw up new protocols before the insurrectionists could continue their destructive rampage. 3 stations depressurized already; 13 deaths reported.The captain spotted Chief Security Officer Newbanks speed-walking toward him. "Newbanks!" called the captain, and he rushed to meet his officer half-way. "What news from the security detail?"Newbanks was pale, biting his bottom lip. He refused to meet Captain Blitz's eyes. "I directed a full, armed detail to Pod 12, as per your orders, sir. However, en route, it appears that the Officer in charge, um, Petty Officer Feng, stopped by the air lock, and..." Newbanks trailed off. He looked antsy."Get to it, Newbanks," Jeremy said gravely."Captain!" came a report from the ensign manning aft internal systems, but it was cut off by the computer's monotone:"Unauthorized depressurization of Sector 8H."Newbanks was staring up at the speakers for the computer notification system. "That was them, Captain. That was the security detail. From what I can tell, he used his security clearance to seal the doors of the walkway, then forcibly depressurised the whole sector.""While he was in it?""While the whole detail was in it. Himself included.""What the hell is getting into people?" shouted the Captain. Several crewmembers looked up from their stations at the disruption, but only briefly.There was a beat of relative quiet, where the emergency klaxon dominated bridge, then Newbanks said, in a soft voice, "I think I know."Captain Blitz regarded his Security Chief for a moment. There was something going on with him, something besides the loss of a full security detail. He looked scared. No, he looked... eager. "You'll have to speak up, Carlos," said the Captain, addressing Newbanks by his first name. The captain reached for his side-arm, covertly.The Security Chief raised his voice, and he said, "I know what's happening, and believe me," Newbank's sidearm was in his hand, and he was holding it to the Captain's chest. "It's for the--"Captain Blitz reacted instantly, twisting away from his officer's gun, grabbing his arm and pinning it behind his back."What is this?!" shouted the captain. The other bridge crew were on their feet, scrambling. "What is happening on my ship?""NO DON'T LEAVE ME!" shrieked Carlos Newbanks, and then whole body went limp. The captain yanked the gun out of his limp hand, then lowered him to the floor and checked his pulse.Everyone on the bridge stood silently, watching this surreal event. Red light pulsed, klaxons sounded, and the captain seemed, for a moment, dumbfounded. When he finally spoke, though, his voice regained full authority and confidence. "Summon a medic. His heart has stopped. Find out if he's ingested some kind of poison capsule or if we can get his heart going again. If not, I want him on ice immediately. And for God's sake, SOMEONE SHUT OFF THAT ALARM!" Current Mood: calm (Comment on this)
Saturday, August 22nd, 2009
_6:01 pm_[snazz]	diez y seis Grover physically woke up to the sounds of alarms and running footsteps, though he felt he had already been awake, as he had somehow seen one of his podmates bash another with a fire extinguisher and then eject both of them into the Xanadian atmosphere and then there was some kind of teleconference with a bunch of cats. Pretty weird stuff, but also in keeping with the kind of day he was having.As his foot stepped onto the floor, he also felt himself walking on the surface of another planet and he was sleeping in a spacecraft on the way to the Barnard's Star System and he was batting at some yarn in a mansion and.... He slipped and fell. This was all pretty confusing.For some reason, he was supposed to kill all the security guards around here. That didn't make much sense and he didn't really have any good reason for it, but the numerous voices in his head seemed pretty insistent about it and they were making it pretty clear that it wouldn't be to his benefit to disobey. They were also pretty adamant about laying off the Blissitol, but maybe he could try to come to some kind of compromise on that.Emergency suits were kept in the locker down the hallway. He could see them right now even though he was several meters of curving hallway away from them. Stumbling his way past the rushing guards, he eventually found the locker and pulled on a suit."Sir, what are you doing?" asked one of the guards, who had apparently stopped to question him."I'm just putting on a suit," he shrugged, popping on the helmet.The man said something, but Grover couldn't hear him through the glass and plastic. So Grover ignored him and walked toward the Environmental Control Room. There was no one inside the room right now, according to something his brain was seeing, so it should be pretty easy to take care of business there.He hurried down the hallway and saw someone else in a suit approaching from an intersecting hallway. His suit radio crackled. "Hey, man," greeted the voice. "You on the way to eject the atmosphere from the Hospital Dome, too?""Yep." For the first time, Grover felt that he had a friend. (Comment on this)
_12:18 am_[rymrytr]	The Ides (15) The Cat sat, watching in avid fascination, as the stainless steel tube made contact with Bea’s skull. Joel Bennis, unaware of the last seconds of his actions, had suddenly turned cold inside. A physical sensation that formed at his center, in his heart, lungs and brain. It was as if his body cavity had suddenly been filled with ice.This was followed by extreme feelings of mind numbing anxiety. An instant and violent stress upon the nervous system so severe, that panic gave way to fear and hopelessness. A hopelessness so deep, so vast, so disheartingly invasive, that “life” itself was no longer bearable. Release and relief became his only priority. His heart began to beat erratically. He hyperventilated. His bladder emptied itself, spreading an un-felt warmness on his uniform trousers.His eyes fell on the Emergency Containment and Environmental Evacuation Unit. Eagerly he yanked, wrenched and turned the lever. The warning Claxton began its required, long and loud notification. On the Bridge, Christmas Tree lights and computer voices shattered the established calm.Inside Unit Four, the computer blandly spoke its verbal warning: "Depressing the CRTL, ALT, DEL Keys will encapsulate this room."He jabbed at the 3 keys with both hands. He tried to scream but his voice would not come. Panic, frustration and insanity prevailed. He blindly hit the right combination. He did not comprehend the computer’s second (and emphatic) warning: "Pressing the Esc Key now will open Sickbay Unit Number Four to exterior space. That action will be irreversible!"He was now pounding the whole keyboard with his fists! The exterior door opened in less than a second. Unit 4 was ejected and set on a computerized course to the middle of the nearest "sun".Lieutenant J. Bennis and the body of Commander B. Goode, the only passengers. One of the cat’s Nine Lives, (those Nine Entities that inhabit all cats in known and unknown existence), had transported her with the speed of thought. Within a mere moment, she was a thousand light-years from the Space Ship Xandau. “He was the most purrrfect and pleaaaasurable human I’ve ever posssssessed. And his raw emotions were just so titillating.The Nine all agreed, literally, through a single thought.“Of all the species there are” that voice continued, “humans are the most emotional and unstable. It was, indeed, a rare find."The cat purred in agreement."Shall we get another?” (Comment on this)
Friday, August 21st, 2009
_4:51 pm_[wackobob]	Shifting gears for a moment... Beatrix sat quietly at her desk, sorting carefully through the readings and the computer's analyses of the patient. Occasionally she would look up at the monitor, watch him turn fitfully in his daze, tied down as he was to his cot. Then she would take a sip of her tea (or what the automatic dispenser *called* tea; in truth it tasted, not quite, but almost exactly unlike tea), and sigh to herself, and look back at her data. Blissitol overdose cases were unpredictable. Any time now he would go into sweats as the drug worked its way out of his system."How's the patient?"Beatrix looked up with a start. Leiutenant Bennis was not usually light enough on his feet to sneak up on anyone. She must have been more absorbed than she realized. She recovered composure and smiled. "Hey, Benny," she said."That's "leiutenant" while on duty, Bea," he said, but his grin betrayed him.Beatrix rolled her eyes. "Right, leiutenant. Grover's doing just how one would expect, given the circumstances. A couple of minutes ago he was talking to the cat.""Really?" Joel Bennis said nonchallantly. "What were they talking about?""I couldn't say," replied Beatrix, "He didn't actually say many words. But the speech centers of his brain were lighting up like Christmas," she said, and she brought up the topographic map of Grover's brain. But now she noticed something strange..."Yeah?" Joel was grinning playfully. "And what did the cat say?"The primary auditory cortex in this scan was over-activated. Beatrix pulled up the audio feed from the medical bay and selected the time frame matching the scan. Then she put the headphones to her ears and listened closely."Bea?" Beatrix jumped in her seat. She turned around. Oh, right. Joel was still here. The audio from the sound clip revealed no unusual noises."What?" replied Beatrix. She could hardly be distracted by Joel's banter right now. The primary auditory cortex was the first passage of audio input to the brain. A hallucination usually manifested in higher brain regions. So why was there activity here?"I said, what did the cat say?"Beatrix waved him off in annoyance. "The cat's a cat.""How do you know?" replied Joel."What else would it be?" said Beatrix, but she was thinking, how does the auditory cortex record noise when there is no noise? A localized seizure? External pressure on the auditory nerve? Some neurological damage from prolonged drug exposure?"Maybe an emissary from the Nine?" "Mmm," Beatrix muttered in agreement, before his words fully registered. "... The what?"Beatrix turned around in time to catch a glimpse of the fire extinguisher before Leiutenant Bennis bashed her head with it, then everything went black."Sorry, Bea," muttered Joel. Then he knealt over Beatrix's unconscious body, raised the extinguisher, and brought it down once again. (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 20th, 2009
_12:43 am_[thrungaron]	Tri-deca-installment Sleep came easily to Grover, but his thoughts were troubled, to say the least. The cats strange utterances about some Nine, whoever they were, while puzzling, seemed strangely relatable to him. He often felt as if they was more than one voice in his head, more than one destiny directing his life. He quite honestly never knew what he was going to do next or where his story would take him. At least he seemed to always have meds of some kind, as they made these sudden shifts easier to handle.He now found his dream populated with endless cats, all shapes and sizes, all manner of beasts. Indeed, some of them could only loosely be called cats. In fact, this could only loosely be called a dream, as he was now suddenly quite aware of the fact that he wasn't dreaming anymore. This was too real, the tell-tale mental clues of illusory visions weren't present. "Dang, now I can't wake up from my dreams," Grover bemoaned. "Maybe my destiny is compensating for my It-Was-All-A-Dream cliche with the reverse cliche." Popping down another Blisserol, Grover decided that he maybe should have his prescription checked at some point. He wasn't sure, but his was beginning to suspect that this batch was a rather strong one. (Comment on this)
Monday, August 17th, 2009
_12:43 am_[rymrytr]	A Dozen The cat jumped over, onto his chest, stretched out in that long, bowing stretch that is common to all cats, then sat down with its front paws just inches from his chin.“Helloooo Grooovvveerrr… I have thoughts for you from the Nine, and a few from me too! They would place it all in your `head’ at once, but I wanted to commune with you directly so that you would understand that it was not you own thoughts. Let me demonstrate to you that it is I that communicates with you. I am extending my right claws and will insert them into your flesh, so.”A thrill of pain shot through him.“Allow me to reiterate, so that you will not confuse the first, with coincidental happenings. This time, with my left paw.”Another spasm of pain, ran along his neck and left 4 tiny scratches that did not bleed.“Alright already… enough - You've made yer point!”, he growled.As the voice continued, the cat purred, licking the fur of its front paw and brushing it against its face. If anyone entered the room now, it would appear to be just what it was. A cat, resting on a man’s chest, purring.“Grover my dear friend, as long as the Nine exist, you and I will exist as well. Once the Nine have entered your being, we, that is, you, I and they, cannot be separated, unless the Nine initiating the separation of course!”“I, through them, understand that it is difficult for your species to comprehend, intellectually, that The Nine can co-exist, symbiotically and simultaneously, in multiple life forms. They are connected in all aspects, socially, mentally and physically to each other, though there is no physical connection to the hosts.”“At this moment, the Nine inhabit your being while, at the same moment, they exist in mine as well. Co-habitually, they also exist in many other beings throughout space, with and without their host’s awareness. Those of us that are cognizant and accepting, find a peace and pleasure that surpasses any loss of `self’.”“They selected you because we perceived that you are above the normal limitations of your species in emotional stability and believe that you have a better chance of survival than some that they have accessed in the past. It is not uncommon, in our attempts to maintain consciousness with some of your species that they deteriorate into a self-destructive psychosis. The Nine feel that you are slipping into that condition and are willing to allow you to self-destruct, if that is your wish.”“The constant use of those chemical substances which you inject, not only affect your physiological stability, but create a condition that interferes with our… their goals. If you continue, they will leave you on the surface of an uninhabited planet, where you may continue in your suicidal determinations.”“That is why I… we… they allowed you to feel that momentary abandonment today. For your species, that act of total separation from all hope and knowledge of the existence of others, is the most horrific state of emotional distress that can be obtained. For the Nine of course, it is an intriguing concept which they have never experienced. They have always existed as a unit. The Nine being one, and each, being the Nine.""The curiosity of those moments of terror is most intriguing to them. They would not casually experiment with it, but do study every instance where the subject has chosen this path, for itself! I hope today’s emotional occurrence brings you further stability and knowledge of the possible consequences if you continue your recent activities.”“I am very comfortable with you Grover, and although we are of different physiological structuring, I have a most strong attachment to you! I would hope that you feel a serious emotional affection for me, also!”With this, Grover stroked the cat, closed his eyes and tried to shut his mind off… would there never be a moment where he could find peace and quit, Was he really having a silent conversation with a cat?Two sets of claws gently set themselves on and nearly into each side of his face. A tiny, wet nose, touched his. "Question answered?"He started counting backward from 10,000.“Sleep now Grooovvveeerrr… I'll be here when you awaken.”link (Comment on this)
Saturday, August 15th, 2009
_8:07 pm_[snazz]	eleven Grover felt himself falling into an abyss and then darkness enveloped him.His eyes snapped open to reveal the inside of the local infirmary, with vines and the associated flowers intertwining their ways along the latticework of the walls. He'd been asleep, probably for a long time, judging by the dryness in his throat. All he could remember about his dreams was the screaming... and something about a man-eating toaster. It was best not to question his dreams, he had found.The last thing he remembered was some kind of tentacly thing reaching for him and cooing at him in a familiar voice. He couldn't recall whose voice at the moment...."Well, hello there." That voice! "I'm glad you decided to come back to me."And then it clicked. Curled up on the pillow next to his head sat his cat, gazing at him with her bright green eyes."Didn't I tell you that you could never leave me?" she purred sweetly. (Comment on this)
_10:45 am_[wackobob]	ten The thing was on top of him, tendrils extending from its belly, wrapping themselves around Grover's spacesuit. He couldn't stop screaming. It kept whispering in his head, "You're ok. It's ok. You're with *me* now. You'll remember in time." The words had the opposite effect than intended. Grover screamed and screamed.The thing, whatever it was, pulled Grover into itself. Everything on the inside was velvet and red. The details were difficult to make out. Some tendril was working at his space suit, taking it apart. The pressure seal of his helmet disengaged, and Grover stopped screaming just long enough to realize the oxygen wasn't rushing out of his suit. Then he was back to screaming."It's all right, you're ok," the words kept coming. Grover couldn't say if it was whispering in his mind or talking out loud."He's having a complete mental breakdown," said a second voice. Was that Lieutenant Bennis? Grover searched for the source of the voice, but couldn't see him anywhere. Could he have been imagining it?"You're with us now, Grover. You're safe now. We're taking you back home." The strange female voice continued to coo at him."I don't think he can hear you." Now *that* was Arnie's voice. Grover's voice went dry. He couldn't scream any more. Where were all these voices coming from?The image of a velvety soft room dancing with strange alien tendrils was going fuzzy.A small disk, cold and metal, made contact with his bare arm."No need to fear," continued that enchanting voice, "You're safe with us now. We're taking you back to the Pod.""Jesus," muttered Bennis's voice. "You see these Blissitol levels? It's a wonder he's not in a coma." (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 12th, 2009
_7:23 pm_[rymrytr]	Nine There was a slight darkness. No, it was more of a shadow, there, in the atmospheric glare of Xanadu. It was difficult to see though his multi-phase face cover. He hit the keypad and ran through several “screens”; multi-layers and different degrees of “shading”. Eached flashed by, one per second. Each changed the intensity, color, quality, resolution; it was like putting filters on a photographic lens.There it was again! It seemed almost the shape of a, a woman… or an animal... No, it was metallic, like a space ship, yet it shimmered like a mirage. It appeared to change to the shape of a Hot Air Balloon, and then a black, massive comet... and at times, nothing at all."Damn! No more injections. It's effecting my logic and my eyesight!"While flipping through more filters, and with his concentration on the apparition, (that "thing" that should not, could not be,) he failed to notice that he was drifting away from Pod 17. And he was using "suit time" which soon, would put him close to the point of no-return.His intercom crackled.“Groooverrrr?”It was faint, unfamiliar, feminine and nothing registered on his Heads-Up Display.“Gro-rev?” she whispered again. “Come closer…”Closer? Closer to what, he wondered. He spoke aloud, “Who are you?”Static. “Can you hear me? I ask again, who are you?”Several seconds pasted. He could sware that he heard music, then voices, laughter, birds chirping, several loud rolls of thunder... He switched off and back on and engaged diagnostic mode. It showed all in prefect working order. Yet there was nothing but silence. Peaceful yet frightening silence. Then this terrifying feeling of total separation turned him cold inside. He switched off and on several times. Ran diagnostics again. Nothing happened. There were no lights or indicators of any kind this time. He turned back, toward Pod 17, but it wasn't there! He tried all the switch he could. Adrenalin flowed. He called out to Pod 17 -- but no one responded. Not even the faintest of static. Panic in the extreme began to rise. He wanted to rip off his suit and run back to the ship. He drew in breath and started to scream...Inside his head, he heard: “I am Udanax, Revorg. Don't you remember me? Don't be afraid. Come! Come closer to me. You will be safe here. Trust me..."` (Comment on this)
_7:41 pm_[wackobob]	Flying outside during a lightning storm was not exactly a safe thing to do on Xanadu, let alone under the influence of a powerful antidepressant like Blissitol. If any of Grover's podmates noticed his pack was missing, he might be in for a bit of a lecture. But he desperately needed a distraction. Life in Pod 17 was damn near intolerable. It would be more than he could stand if he didn't take outings like this now and then.There wasn't much to see. Xanadu was a gas giant orbiting Omicron Eridani A, 125 light years from home. It was litarally as far as Grover could possibly get from his pathetic life, but he still dreamed about it every night. Sometimes with a curious 20th century twist, yes, but the basics were all there. The lack of space, the lack of purpose, his own pre-ACT-procedure frailty. At least with Blissitol in the mix, the dreams took interesting turns. He could still faintly smell the bear-bee's breath.The world around him was red-orange, as far as he could see. He kept the brilliant white signal beacon of Pod 17 in sight always, but ventured further and further into the hazy atmosphere. A deep crimson cloud bank was passing far overhead, drifting to the south, occasionally flashing bright greens and purples as lightning pulsed within it. Grover rose slowly, hoping for a closer look. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 11th, 2009
_3:58 pm_[snazz]	part 7 Cursing, he made it to his feet. It had all been a dream. Worse than the pain from the fall was the fact that he was apparently now living in a fucking movie cliche.He needed to do something, get out of the house. Going to the closet, he pulled out his pressure suit and rocket backpack. How could he have been so stupid? He hadn't even lived on Earth for the past five years. Of course, the dream hadn't been real.Before he snapped the helmet into place, he looked at his anti-depressant medication, still lying on the table. What the fuck, it could be fun, he figured, popping a couple more. Clicking the helmet on, he stepped out the door and fired up the backpack, zooming into the thin Xanadian atmosphere. (Comment on this)
Sunday, August 9th, 2009
_11:32 pm_[rymrytr]	Part 6 The face was horrifying! His heart raced; he seemed to be unable to breath. Turning away, he tried to run, crawl, scream, but nothing happened. The buzzing grew louder and louder. Something touched the side of his head, his body convulsed, he struck out with his arms. He shut his eyes in shear panic and waited for what ever was to come now. That buzzing began to change tone. It was two sounds, one following the other, over and over again. His legs would not move; there must be something on them or the bee/bear creature had a hold of him. Again a scream that would not come...Then his eyes opened. All was black. There was no light, no giant bee or bear or whatever. Laying on his back, his first recognition was the carpet and the second was that two-toned buzzing. Something wet touched his ear and the buzzing became a Purring. His Cat! What he had seen outside, in the flash of light, hadn't been her.A distant flash of lighting, and several seconds later, the Thunder brought him back to the storm. His head hurt where he had struck that over-sized Oak Coffee Table; his back hurt from the fall and his pride hurt, for being such a coward, in the dream!The Doctor had warned him that this particular Anti-Depressant would give him Lucid Dreams, and up to now, they had been a lot more fun... but this one was so bad that he had nearly, actually, died of fright.He rolled over and attempted to stand. (Comment on this)
Saturday, February 7th, 2009
_12:56 pm_[wackobob]	Bumblebears!! The window was about 3 football field's length away. It was beginning to dawn on Grover just how gigantic this world was. His yard, his *real* yard, was slightly longer than he was tall. Now those two meters became 600 meters. This world was apparently 300 times bigger than his. A local version of Grover Cleveland, if such a creature existed, would be about 600 meters tall.Grover paused. This didn't make sense no matter how you sliced it. Gravity felt normal here. How could a 600 meter Grover Cleveland function?Grover mused over this as he worked his way over a very ragged landscape. Twigs and leaves littered the earth, making him find his way around and through obstacles and extending the length of his journey. Grover picked his way carefully along until his out-of-shape body demanded he stop and rest. The air was oppressively thick here, and breathing too deeply made his head swim and his heart race. It was definitely a different atmosphere. Too much oxygen, maybe?Grover took a seat on a smooth stone to rest his bones and calm his heart. That's when he heard it: the buzzing, unmistakable, even though it was much lower pitch. A bee. Adrenaline flooded his blood, and Grover's weak heart nearly exploded. The implications of a bee in a world like this hardly needed consideration. Grover was allergic. He scrambled for cover and wound up digging a hole in the loose stones, hoping to hide in the ground. But the buzzing was growing louder and louder, and Grover was now panicking. He was sure it would be upon him at any moment. He abandoned his hole in the ground and ran, only to trip on a loose stone and twist his ankle.Then it was there, silhouetted in the light of the full moon. It was a flying bear. Two feathery antennae sprouted over its head, rooted a little above and between the creature's eyes. Its gossamer wings spanned twenty feet, and fluttered so quickly that they were visible only as disturbances in the air. And it had a 3 foot long stinger sprouting from the end of its spine and curving wickedly downward.Grover stared up in horror at the beast. Its gruff fur was patterned in broad horizontal stripes. The moon bleached out the colors, but Grover could guess that they were black and yellow. It was bumbling seemingly aimlessly through the grass, that is, until it caught sight of our petrified hero.The creature darted instantly to Grover. It came within a foot of Grover's face and let its antennae tickle Grover's contorted face. He could smell the creature's breath, sickening sweet and a little rotten, like a corpse sprayed heavily with flower-scented Febreze (R) in a vain effort to conceal the odor. Current Mood: Horrified skeleton man! (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009
_3:02 pm_[snazz]	part 5 He must have been somehow transported to an alternate dimension, Grover realized, one in which everything was much taller than in his own. Maybe it was the storm that did it, or maybe the window. He hoped it was the storm, because the window wouldn't be taking him back anytime soon, not in its condition. And he had to get back.It dawned on him then just how far away he was from home: pretty much infinitely far. There was no way that he knew of to measure the distances between dimensions.That was irrelevant. Escape was the first priority; philosophy could follow later. This was an unknown dimension, or at least a dangerous one. He could come back if he found a way to do so safely. So he needed a plan.And contingency plans. What if he met his alternate, 60-foot-tall self? Maybe that was what he should do, actually. Presumably, this other self had the same habits; maybe he could intercept the giant during one of his routine chores and request help. Or would his giant self simply eat him? How large were the differences between the dimensions?Well, if it came to it, possibly he could outrun his giant self, as he was a slow runner and the giant Grover would be 60 times slower. With that thought, he began heading back to the empty window frame. (Comment on this)
Sunday, February 1st, 2009
_1:21 pm_[wackobob]	Dundundun... Through Grover's weak eyes, the world was black. He reached his arms out and tried to feel his way to the sofa, but managed to stub his foot on a table leg instead."Youch!" shouted Grover, and at the same instant, lightning struck again, and illuminated his darkened home for a fraction of a second. It was all somehow distorted. Too big. Tilted at strange angles. Then it was black again, and Grover was gripped with the unmistakable sensation of falling.His feet were on the ground, but he was falling. Grover turned and stumbled and screamed, then he slammed unwittingly into that damned glass window, smashed straight through in a cloud of razor-fine shards into the pelting rain.By the time Grover hit the ground, the rain was gone. The ground beneath him was dry. He lay there a moment, wincing at all the fine lacerations on his face and hands from the broken glass. Then he opened his eyes and struggled up to his feet.Moonlight soaked the Earth, and even Grover could make out his surroundings. It was not his back yard, at least, it was not his back yard as Grover had ever seen it. He was standing on an uneven surface of large stones and equally large clods of dirt. To his left, the towering structure of an acorn loomed out of the earth. To his right, a blade of grass seemingly 6 feet wide and 60 feet tall stood like a very improbably tongue-shaped tree. In the distance, he could make out the white, wooden-paneled wall of his house. And littering his immediate surroundings were glittering shards of glass, like daggers. (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 31st, 2009
_5:18 pm_[thrungaron]	Part 3 The same dark form was crouched in the oak tree. Well, at least it seemed to him like the same dark form. His eyesight had always been poor ever since he'd looked directly at the sun as a child. He'd been sure his mother was lying about the danger, and he'd paid the price. Not that he cared that much. He'd found life far more entertaining and mysterious when you were never quite sure what something was.Grover snapped out of his reflections as something flew into his forehead with a small thump. Reaching down to pick whatever it was off the ground, he discovered one of the dry acorns. Had the thing in the tree thrown it at him? Glancing back up, he saw the mass of shadows made corporate holding itself as still as death. With a flex of its undulating mass, it powered itself over his fence and out of his field of view. He briefly contemplated following it. It would be just like a book or movie, with an adventure thrust upon his dull uneventful life. It was this point that he remembered his wet furniture. And his hatred of the dark and rain. And his allergies. Turning his attention back to the window, he proceeded to re-enter his house and replace the window in its frame, grunting and grumbling the whole while. His labor complete, he prepared himself for the rest of his evening at home. At this point, however, to his infinite annoyance, the power went out. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 28th, 2009
_3:26 pm_[snazz]	part 2 Grover increased his peering, running his eyes along the just over 6-foot length of his rain-soaked yard, almost pushing against the window, almost leaning into it as if that would somehow help him increase his gaze just a bit more.Crap. He must have been actually leaning into it, for it had just fallen to the ground and cracked. Not shattered, for which he should be somewhat thankful, but it now had a nice little crack on it as it crumpled the scraggly tree beneath it and leaned against the neighbor's fence. Rain came pouring into his house, as if seeking to embrace him with the natural world.Well, maybe he could do more embracing when his furniture wasn't having to pay the price. Grover stepped gingerly outside, lifted the window away from the fence and his poor tree, and began to haul it back towards the window frame. Then, lightning lit up the sky again and his head darted to the side. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
_12:19 am_[wackobob]	In the beginning... Grover Cleveland was not in a good mood (not that anyone named for the 22nd and 24th United States president was prone to a particularly cheery disposition). It was a particularly Dark and Stormy Night, and nothing good ever came of nights like that. These were the sorts of nights when sophisticated dinner parties were interrupted by sudden, brief power outages, which ended to reveal that the Colonel's daughter has been murdered. Nights like these, mad scientists in their granite towers attempted unnatural feats most often involving corpses, or vicious animals, or giant aphids. And it was nights like these that poor Grover didn't get to watch movies about either of these things, what with the satellite dish unable to receive a signal.Grover resigned himself to staring out the window. It was sleeting now. Pellets of stinging slush whipped the window pane, becoming briefly visible through Grover's somber reflection in the glass. Grover eyed himself and sighed. Awkward and skinny, fully six feet tall and only one hundred thirty pounds. Gangly limbs, thick nose, sad, sunk, dark eyes. His hair was an unmanageable mess of thin stringy strands that refused to lay flat or to curl properly, preferring to frizzle and jut in every random direction, sometimes in straight lines, sometimes in lazy curls. Lightning struck, and briefly wiped away his reflection. His backyard was illuminated for a second, all forty square feet of it, with its one scraggly oak tree and its patches of grass among rotting acorns and its tall wooden fence. A dark form seemed to be slinking along the side of the garage, visible as a black outline against the white wooden paneling along the right side of the yard.What's Kibbles doing out there... wondered Grover, and the flash ended and the window was a black mirror again. Grover pondered over the sight for a little bit. There was definitely something amiss. The cat was terrified of thunder and hated rain. It should have been hiding under Grover's bed. Yet, the way that it moved out in the ice-cold sleet and rain suggested no discomfort whatsoever. And the more he thought on it, the more it seemed bigger than it ought to have been. Could it be a neighbor's cat? Or some wild animal?It occurred to Grover to search the house to see if Kibbles was inside, but he was now riveted to the window, waiting for the next flash of lightning to reveal the whereabouts of this mysterious creature. (Comment on this)