Skydrop Gunshot

The Mysterious Sieve

Nicholas Woodard — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 04:08:32 +0000

You: You wake up in a dark room, your head is pounding. You cannot seem to remember anything. What do you do?

Stranger: hello

Stranger: take another drink

Stranger: thats what i usually do

You: You fumble around in the dark for a glass or bottle of sweet sweet brandy, but alas nothing. All you can make out is the shadowy outline of a lamp.

Stranger: is it on?

You: No.

Stranger: well then i turn it on

Stranger: or attempt to

You: You press it clumsily, weak light fills the room. Even still, you flinch as you adjust slowly to the new luminesence.

You: You are sitting on a dirty bed in a wood panel room. There is a desk with a letter and the aforementioned lamp on it, there is a door on the opposite wall.

Stranger: is the letter sealed?

You: No, it is open.

Stranger: read it!!!

You: The letter states in bold, capital letters:

You: CONGRATUALTIONS, YOU’RE A WINNER

You: However, it affords no details as to what you’ve won or where you are.

Stranger: ok

Stranger: um, check to see if the doors locked?

You: The door is unlocked

Stranger: open!

You: You open the door. It leads into a hallway that goes left and right. A gentle soothing melody is coming from the right, and your headache deminishes slightly.

Stranger: go left!

You: To your left, you can see what appears to be the entrance to a kitchen.

Stranger: i wish to take a peak in the kitchen

You: It is a simple room, designed only to store dry goods. All along the wall are old, rotten cupboards. Entire barrels of flour and other more mysterous wheats and such are scattered around the room. It seems as if no one has been in this room for a long time.

Stranger: check out the old rotten cupboards!

You: A quick search of the cupboards yeilds nothing but a pestle and an oddly brand new sieve. Aside from all the rubbish.

You: It is a nice sieve to, state of the art, top of the line in sieve technology.

Stranger: hmm…

Stranger: well im against stealing… even though it is really shiny

Stranger: i guess if i leave it here before i leave the building its not stealing, kind of borrowing

Stranger: can i take the sieve?

You: You take the sieve. 9 inventory slots remain.

Stranger: awesome!

Stranger: ill take the pestle too then

You: You take the pestle. 8 inventory slots remain.

Stranger: ok, then i wish to leave the kitchen and go down the right side of the hallway

Stranger:

You: The soothing music continues, as if it is looping a 10 second track. You headache is almost gone.

You: You walk down the hallway into the far room. You find yourself in a large den. The opposite wall is nothing but a large window looking down on a wooded decline. The music is coming from a cd player on a television to your right. To your left, there is a large double door, presumably an entrance. There is a sword hanging on the wall above the door. A man stands in front of the window, his back turned to you. He is completely still.

Stranger: hmm, wierd corralation between my headache and the music, probably coincedence

Stranger: i call out to the man from a distance

You: He is nonresponsive.

Stranger: then i take the sword

You: You cannot reach it! Curse this stubby little legs of yours!

Stranger: hmm…. i approach the cd player /tv for further examining

You: Upon close examination, you notice that there is a tiny keyhole in the middle of the screen.

Stranger: i try to turn the television on

You: Try as you might, the television does not turn on.

Stranger: hmm…

Stranger: well… i think ill turn the cd player off

You: You cannot figure it out. It has no buttons, and it does not even appear to open.

Stranger: wow, ok, i try to open the doors

You: They are locked.

Stranger: hmm…

Stranger: i carefully approach the unresponsive man

You: He continues to be nonresponsive.

Stranger: is there anything else out the window?

You: The window offers a fantastic view of what you conclude is the downward slope of a wooded mountain. It is sometime in the middle of the day, and a few happy birds flutter here and fro.

Stranger: so the only doors are the locked ones and the way back to the hallway

Stranger: sounds like i won a weekend at a ski resort and it went horribly wrong

Stranger: ok, im going back into the hallway and into the room i came out of and tearing it apart

Stranger: like, looking under the bed, under the pillow, the desk

You: Your search is diligent, but the room is simple and yeilds nothing but the letter that assures your status as a ‘winner.’

Stranger: ok then! back to the kitchen it is

You: You are in the kitchen.

Stranger: hooray!

You: The smell is so dry you can taste it.

Stranger: delicious

Stranger: i look the the wheat barrels

You: Input not understood, try again.

Stranger: i look into the wheat barrels

You: There is a lot of wheat in these barrels! There’s just no way you could search through all that wheat without a device to sift it.

Stranger: awesome, i have that supercool sieve!

Stranger: *uses sieve*

You: With your innate sieving ability, not one grain goes unsieved. In a half an hour’s labor, you uncover a dozen rat’s nests and an old key.

You: The sieve is at 90% sieving capacity.

Stranger: i keep the sieve, take the key, and one rat nest

You: You take the old key. You have 7 inventory slots left.

You: You take the rat’s nest. gross! You have 6 inventory slots left.

Stranger: awesome! i go back through the hallway into the room with the television

You: You are in the large den

Stranger: den, right, that one

Stranger: um, i appraoch the tv and try to fit the key into that keyhole in the center of the screen

You: It is too big!

Stranger: ok, then the i try it on the door!

Stranger: (why i try to open a tv first, i have no idea)

You: The door has two locks, it is far too small for one, but fits nicely in the other.

Stranger: i check the unresponsive mans pockets! or is he naked?

You: The moment you touch the man, his head falls off!

You: He was not a man, but a manniquen!

Stranger: awesome, so at least i know i wont get killed

Stranger: by him anyway

Stranger: is it wooden? plastic?

You: The manniquen has no pockets, but a small key is tucked in his belt.

Stranger: awesome!

Stranger: i take the key and try it on the door first like a normal person

You: You take small key. You have 5 inventory slots left.

You: You try the small key on the big keyhole. You feel silly.

Stranger: hahahaha

Stranger: ok, i try it on the tv like a person who isnt blind

You: The key fits into the television perfectly.

Stranger: ok… i turn the key an attempt (in various ways) to “open” the television set

Stranger: and*

You: The key turns, and the CD player pops open.

Stranger: ok, whats in the cd player?

You: A shiny blue CD.

Stranger: shiny! i take it

You: You take shiny blue CD. You have 4 inventory slots left.

Stranger: ok, whats in my inventory as of now?

You: Inventory check: Loading

You: 1 sieve (90% capacity)

You: 1 pestle

You: 1 shiny blue CD

You: 1 old key (in lock)

You: 1 small key (in television)

You: 1 rat’s nest (gross!)

You: 4 empty slots.

Stranger: awesome

Stranger: um… shiny cd… leaves me without leads

Stranger: and i have no ocarina to play sarias song

You: Error, incorrect game.

You: You are playing: THE MYSTERIOUS SIEVE

Stranger: hmm

Stranger: the sieve…

Stranger: i fit the sieve into the big keyhole!

You: The sieve is too big!

You: The old key jiggles subtly.

You: Unturned in its lock.

Stranger: so how is this door designed? are the two locks on either door? or in the center?

You: These old majestic doors are an indentical pair, save for the locks.

You: The designers of THE MYSTERIOUS SIEVE apologize for poor or misleading discriptions.

Stranger: its no biggie

Stranger: well i attempt to open the door with the key that just turned

You: Rolling…

You: You rolled a 7! You manage to dodge the sword as it falls to the ground.

Stranger: son of a! i knew it!

You: The door remains fixed.

Stranger: im so leveling my agility modifyer on next level up

Stranger: well i take that sword for sure

You: You take sword. You have 3 inventory slots left. You are now slightly encumbered

Stranger: well that wont help my agility modifyer at all

You: Error, your character does not possess such a modifier.

Stranger: nor does he possess good spelling

Stranger: ok, i drop the rats nest

You: You drop the rat’s nest. You have 4 inventory slots left. You are slightly encumbered.

Stranger: oh, its that bloody sword

Stranger: i pick my rats nest back up

Stranger: im quite attached to it

You: The rat’s nest can’t handle all this shifting about, it disentigrates in your hands!

Stranger: i guess someone got tired of that joke

Stranger: well there happen to be 11 left that i could grow fond of, but ill spare you

You: Error, this system possesses no judgement.

Stranger: as a good system should

Stranger: well anyways, im going to attempt to open that door again

Stranger: the same one that almost killed me

You: It doesn’t budge! Curse your lack of exercise!

Stranger: well…. i could live off that nasty sifted wheat, and train myself with that sword until im a crazed cabin fever fighting machine, but i dont think thats work at all

Stranger: i bash it with the sword

Stranger: thatll*

You: Error, bash what?

Stranger: the door

You: Error, which door?

Stranger: the one i just tried to open

You: Rolling…

You: 6! Your attacks are ineffective! Your swordplay is nothing like your sieveplay!

You: A green disc pops off the hilt of the unexamined sword and falls to the ground.

Stranger: haha! now we have some direction

Stranger: i pick up that green disk, walk over to the cd player, and put the green disc into the cd player

You: It fits neatly.

Stranger: i close the cd player and…

Stranger: i take the key out of the television

You: As soon as you unturn the key, the music strats again, this time, it is that of an opera.

You: The voice of the fat lady is penetrating, growing shriller and shriller.

Stranger: i close my ears

You: Excellent! You avoid permanent otoic damage!

You: The window behind you shatters outward!

You: The birds, starled, scatter.

You: The CD player fizzles and pops, green smoke fizzing out of the device, the television screen flickers on and off, then on again.

You: You recognize yourself on the screen, talking without sound to the viewer, the recording skipping here and there.

You: The only word you can read off your own lips is ’sieve.’

Stranger: right then

Stranger: i climb out the window and onto the decline avoiding broken glass

You: This course of action is dangerous! Will you proceed?

You: You will bw required to roll a 9 on 2 dice to avoid hurting yourself.

Stranger: are they d6?

You: Yes.

Stranger: then no

Stranger: i suppose i could always rip the bed materials off and use them…. i would too in real life

Stranger: but ill pass

Stranger: how large it the decline?

Stranger: is*

You: You cannot tell, but the drop to get onto the decline is quite large. A story and a half you estimate. More than enough to break both your brittle legs. Curse your lack of calcium in diet!

Stranger: probably why im so short too

You: Correct.

Stranger: i thought it was right outside the window

Stranger: well, maybe that horrendous music jiggled the door a bit

Stranger: i try to open the door with the key in it again

You: As you jiggle the key, all you hear is the fainting clicking of the device that held the sword in place.

Stranger: those cheeky buggers trying to kill me

Stranger: i worked hard to get that key too

Stranger: so much sifting…

Stranger: ok, i approach the television screen

Stranger: and i show the projected image of myself the sieve

Stranger: while trying to communicate with him like an idiot

You: Clever, but you quickly learn that you cannot sieve your way through all your problems in life.

You: You idly wonder how the television is powered, you have not seen any wires.

Stranger: lol, i look behind the television screen

You: There is nothing! It is bare.

You: Quite strange, the television continues to play.

Stranger: i look all over the tv for hatches for maybe batteries or something

You: The television contains no hatches or nooks of any kind. You cannot budge it. Only CD player exists in relation to it.

Stranger: i examine the broken cd player for a power source

You: With a little effort, the CD player come off of the TV, it is connected to the top of the TV by a wire that seems to have quite a bit of slack to it.

Stranger: how thick is the wire and how long?

You: The wire is quite thick, and you cannot determine it’s length, you pull and pull, but it seems endless!

Stranger: i throw the cd player out the window!!!

You: The CD player lands on the ground below with a crash and rolls a little before stopping.

Stranger: how much slack is on the wire?

Stranger: as of now?

You: You cannot tell, it seems infinite!

Stranger: gah, i just that means no climbing down

Stranger: and now i have no cd player

Stranger: or shiny green cd of evil

Stranger: hmmm…

Stranger: is the tv still on?

You: Yes.

Stranger: hmm, so the tvs connected to the cd player with an inifite looking wire

You: Correct

Stranger: not seeming to end, but somehow connecting the two

Stranger: quite a paradox

Stranger: that leaves me without much leads

Stranger: and no cd player

Stranger: unless i pull it back up by the wire

You: Pulling the CD player up proves much more difficult than throwing it out was. You can’t!

Stranger: hmm

Stranger: do those doors have handles?

You: They have knobs.

Stranger: i attempt to tie a knot around one of the knobs

Stranger: with the wire

You: Clever, but the wire is too thick.

Stranger: wow, thats a thick wire

Stranger: i mean, like huge

You: Correct

You: It is a substantial wire.

You: As you move the wire about the den, you jostle the prone, decapitated manniquen.

Stranger: i examine the manniquen for further assistance

You: The manniquen has 6 pieces. The head, the torso, 2 legs and two arms.

You: One of the legs is made of a heavier material than the rest of the body.

Stranger: examine this leg to see if its filled with something or metal or w/e

You: There is nothing in the leg.

You: It is clearly made of some metal, however, whiel the rest of the pieces are plastic.

Stranger: wow, hmm, a metal leg

Stranger: clearly its importatn

Stranger: important*

Stranger: i drop the sword *carefully*

Stranger: and pick up the metal leg

You: You take the metal leg. It is too heavy to be an inventory item, but you can manipulate it was some effort.

Stranger: hmm, may i have a rough estimate of how heavy it is?

You: Lightier than the human body, heavier than the sword.

Stranger: darn, and i was so close too

You: You notice an inscription on the discarded sword.

Stranger: hoo

Stranger: ray

Stranger: i finally examine the sword

Stranger: that i love so much

You: There is an inscription on your sword.

You: It reads

You: “The foot is the key.”

Stranger: wonderful!

Stranger: i jam the toe end of the foot into the big keyhole on the door

You: It fits neatly.

Stranger: i get as far away from the door as possible while still being able to turn the leg-key

You: Rolling…

You: 6! Your meager strength proves sufficient to open the door, but you are sweaty and winded from the effort.

You: Both doors open inward revealing another room.

Stranger: and sadly that wasnt the entrace

Stranger: i go back to the bed to rest

Stranger: for maybe 10-20 minutes

Stranger: idk, door opening IS quite tiring

You: Success! Like a fat kid after a 10 second jog, your rest is refreshing and your stamina is restored!

Stranger: hooray!

Stranger: the sword is in my inventory right now?

You: The sword is examined, but remains discarded.

Stranger: i pick up the sword and tread carefully into the next room over that have been newly opened

You: The bathroom yields no surprises, aside from your surprise at only finding the bathroom after solving a series of puzzles. To your right is a tub full of a thick black liquid, to your right, a sink and a medicine cabinet. Right in front of you, someone has torn out the toilet, and all that remains is a thick L-pipe.

You: error, the sink and cabinet are to your left.

Stranger: one second please

Stranger: ok, i open the medicine cabinet, but i dont face it, i stay to the side of it

Stranger: (currently paranoid as all get out)

You: Inside the medicine cabinet is a bottle of pills and a screwdriver

Stranger: i take the screwdriver

You: You take screwdriver. You have 4 inventory slots left.

Stranger: and examine the pill bottle

You: The label on the pill bottle helpfully reads ‘pills’.

Stranger: im guessing i was under the influence of these pills recently

Stranger: leading to why i dont know where i am and my headache

Stranger: i put the pills back into the cabinet

Stranger: i have a clever idea that might kill me though

Stranger: i use the sieve to sifte through the thick black liquid in the tub

You: Success! The sieve has been reduced to 80% capacity. You have found iron gauntlets.

Stranger: awesome

Stranger: is there anyway to repair the sieve?

You: Perhaps the pills?

Stranger: i use the pestle to grind the pills into the sieve?

You: You may consult the THE MYSTERIOUS SIEVE faq on gamefaqs.com, however, the system is programmed only to punish you when you turn the wrong key, not to help you.

Stranger: i see

Stranger: then i go for it

Stranger: i grind a few pills into the sieves wire net things with the pestle

Stranger: then wash it off in the sink

You: Alas! The sieve is no mortar, it is too awkward!

You: You have wasted 20% of your pills.

Stranger:

Stranger: well, i guess ill take the pills with me then

Stranger: and put on the iron gauntlets

You: You take bottle of pills. You have 2 inventory slots left.

You: You take iron gauntlets, you have 1 inventory slot left. You are now encumbered.

You: You wear the guantlets, which fit you like big metal gloves. The inside has a strange texture you identify as rubber.

You: Warning: witht he gauntlets on, you are incapable of manipulating delicate objects.

Stranger: got it

Stranger: i examine the L pipe where a toilet shouldve been

You: It is a study L pip.

You: error, pipe

Stranger: i give it a good yank with the glvoes on for no reason

Stranger: then precede to examine the sink

You: It will not budge.

You: The sink appears ordinary, if not plain boring.

Stranger: what form of sink is it?

Stranger: wall sink?

Stranger: or does the base reach the floor?

You: Correct, wall sink. It does not reach the floor.

Stranger: i examine the black liquid

You: The black liquid a thick tarlike goo that no sieveless caveman could have ever hoped to explore.

Stranger: how does it smell?

You: Like automobiles.

Stranger: delicious

Stranger: may i have an inventory check please?

You: Inventory check - loading

You: 1. You have a sieve (80%)

You: 2. You have a pestle

You: 3. You have an old key (turned, in lock)

You: 4. You have a small key (unturned in television)

You: 5. You have a sword (encumbrance +1)

You: 6. You have a blue CD

You: 7. You have a pair of rubber lined iron gauntlets (+1 encumbrance)

You: 8. You have a bottle of pills

You: The system is sure it is forgetting something. Why do you do this to the system?

Stranger: the system should have notepad open

Stranger:

You: Correct, it should.

Stranger: youre forgetting the green cd that i got rid of

You: Error, that CD is disposed

Stranger: and probably not playable

You: Correct, probably not.

Stranger: is the wire too thick to wrap around the L pipe?

You: The wire wraps around the L pipe, but there is no way to knot it.

Stranger: can i cut the wire with the sword?

You: Are you going to attempt that?

Stranger: …sword, metal, power lines

Stranger: i thought you were supposed to punish me for turning the wrong key?

Stranger: whats the copyright date on this game?

You: Error, you must commit to an action before I can punish you for it.

Stranger: i see

Stranger: …

Stranger: this is becoming rather trying

You: You’re on the right track.

You: And almost finished.

Stranger: haha!

Stranger: i wear the rubber lined gauntlets

Stranger: and use the sword

Stranger: to cut the power line

Stranger: at a suitable length to reach from the L pipe to the ground

You: Success! You have severed the power line and avoided electrocution.

Stranger: but i cant knot the severed power line around the L pipe…

You: Indeed you can, now that it has an end!

Stranger: ok, then i precede to do that

You: Success! You have created a sturdy knot around the L pipe.

Stranger: i go over to the window

Stranger: and take a very careful look around everything thats outside

Stranger: on the ground below

You: Everything is as it was.

Stranger: then i climb down

Stranger: using the wire

Stranger: theres a bear isnt there?

You: Attention! You are leaving chapter 1 of THE MYSTERIOUS SIEVE. The follwing items are useless now: blue CD, small key, old key, pestle. Would you like to discard them?

Stranger: what did i need the pestle in the first place for?

You: Who knows?

Stranger: you do!

You: The following important items are being left behind: screwdriver, letter, fresh rat’s nest, would you like to retrieve them?

Stranger: i would like to discard all useless items and retrieve all the important ones

Stranger: and i would like 2 rats nests if possible

You: Well done! You have completed chapter 1 of THE MYSTERIOUS SIEVE. You have also completed the secret DOUBLE RAT’S NEST CHALLENGE!

Stranger: lmfao

Stranger: are you serious?

You: And I straight up can’t believe you played that game for 2, 2 and a half hours.

Holy Rites: Part 20

Nicholas Woodard — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 01:22:09 +0000

Gumby, Rexford, and Saul sat around a table in the lobby, drifting clouds sending strobes of afternoon light and shadow across their faces and into the deep corners. They drank in silence. To Gumby, the brandy taste much more bitter then it had the day before, but there was something about that was soothing away inexorible psychosis, so he sipped at it busily. Saul was working on his personal bottle with olympian dedication. He seemed to be channeling a great deal of stress at each glass, every violent swig sent Gumby back to counting the cracks in the wall. Rexford looked oblivious, deep in thought, his glass mostly untouched. He would fidget from time to time, drawing circles in the air and nodding to no one. The silence persisted until he caught a gust of Saul’s aura and jumped a little in his seat.

“What’s with you?”

“I can still smell it,” Saul grumped. He eyed his empty bottle regretfully.

Rexford chuckled and slid his glass in front of Saul, who took it with a grunt. “Here. Nothing particularly exciting happened to me today anyways.”

He turned to Gumby, “

Holy Rites: Part 19

Nicholas Woodard — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 18:41:36 +0000

She continued to stare at him, her gaze now absent and unfocused. He shook her a little and her jaw slackened. Saul was beginning to get a little frustrated with what was shaping up to be his third wild goose chase of the night. His voice carried an edge.

“Have you seen a priest-boy?” His phrasing was unfortunate. The girl’s eyes went wide. She began twisting in his grasp and screaming.

“No. No! He’s mine! You can’t have him!” Suddenly, she was pleading, “please, I need him. You don’t understand. He’s important. I can’t live without him.” Pleading became threatening seamlessly, “If you take him, I will hunt you. When I die, I will haunt you. I will sing nightmare poems into your sleeping mind!” She was shouting again and kicking wildly at his shins, “I hate you! Go away! I will become your personal banshee, your great misfortune! I will be the pox on your pets and lovers, the scorpion in your birthday cake! Aaaaagh!” She took in a deep breath to continue and promptly passed out instead.

Saul turned his head slowly to the sound of Gumby emerging from the cave, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What’s all the-Saul!” he exclaimed when he saw the bewildered giant. He started to run forward, but on the second step he caught a glimpse of the mess of pulp and bone that had once constituted a man’s face and promptly passed out instead. Saul just barely managed to keep Gumby’s head from hitting the ground without dropping the girl.

It took Saul some time to navigate his way back to the surface. As accustomed to strange and brutal sights as the citizens of the Gulan Underground are, there’s something about a two-story behemoth with a bruised and unconscious youth of both genders tucked under either arm that invites suspicion. Saul would have to remember to have a talk with Rexford about the nature of his work versus that of nannies and midwives.

Once he was in the morning light of the Gulan Magnificant, he took a deep breath to purge himself of the unique rotten air-stench of the Underground. He choked, however, when he realized that one hundred percent of that smell was still coming from the girl under his arm.

Holy Rites: Part 18

Nicholas Woodard — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 16:43:20 +0000

While her guest soundly slept, Viola sat dangling her legs over the edge of the makeshift awning over the entrance to her granny’s cave. She was attempting to think, in as straight of lines as she could manage, but her excitement was encouraging the madness nibbling on the corners of her consciousness. Occasionally, a tick would escape, like a giggle or a yip and she would have to start over with a blank mind, then thoughts of simple pleasures. After several tries, she finally managed to work up to the thought:

I have him, Granny. What do I do now?

Which led to:

Colony Moondice Snowman.

And the thought process ended. She let herself fall off of the awning, grabbing the edge with one hand and tumbling into an upside down crouching position. She hooked her toes into a nook and began hooting at the ground.

A bludgeoning force slammed into her shoulder, tearing her from her perch and sending her crashing to the stone. Madness and wind fled her in a hurry, and she gasped in sudden, sober pain.

“Where’s the priest-boy, loon?” a male voice asked, the question ringing through her ears.

She was too stunned to focus on her assailant, and too breathless to answer the voice, who sounded like it belonged to a second person. The overwhelming pain was redoubled when a boot was thrust into her ribs, causing her to black out for a second. When she came back, she applied her first free breath to a pitiful whimper. With the second one, she howled and tried to scramble up, the tears flinging from her eyes. The hulking brute she caught a fleeting glimpse of came down on her hard, pinned her to the ground with his weight, and held her head down with his hand. She spit and flailed wildly, clawing at the air and fighting for fleeting breath. The stout man who had spoken came walking into her controlled field of vision and grinned at her.

“Where is the priest-boy?” he repeated. “Tell me now or I’ll let Gur do horrible Gur things to you.”

Gur let out a deep ‘hur hur’ chuckle and drove Viola’s cheek harder into the rock. He began stroking her legs with his free hand.

“Arming flame…” she began shrieking. The man turned his still smiling face to Gur and opened his mouth. Whatever was coming out was stuffed right back inside by a fist twice the size of his head that had just reached the end of a powerful bull charge. The astonished man’s abruptly lifeless body went flying into the cave’s entrance, leaving an airborne trail of blood and teeth. The fist’s partner swept through this in the opposite direction and the weight on Viola’s back was suddenly gone with a deep ‘hhrrg?’ gurgle. Both fists converged on her body.

Saul lifted the battered girl to her feet, supporting her gently by her shoulders. She was giving him a half bewildered, half crazed, all panicked expression.

“Are you alright?”

Holy Rites: Part 17

Nicholas Woodard — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 18:04:39 +0000

apologies for the SUPER delay
NOTE THE TENSE CHANGE I WILL BE REVISING THE EARLIER TEXT TOO

Though the unidentified corpse is one of the major exports of the Gulan Underground, Lascivious Rexford was uncomfortably certain that the body bobbing gently at his soggy feet belonged to his most promising lead. LaCoy idly poked at it with a piece of charred flotsam, unsuccessfully trying to negate its slow, disquieting drifting.

Death is as regular to the city of Kara’Gozara as day and night. Even in the light months he had been experiencing lately, Rexford had seen dozens much less beautiful stiffs than this purple masterpiece. Still, corpses affect him in an embarrassingly unprofessional way.

“Sonnet and haiku. Haiku, haiku, haiku,” he swore, turning in quick circles to dispel his rising bile and sending the body spinning off in the process.

“Rex,” LaCoy fished it back and deposited it unceremoniously on the ground behind him, “you’re adorable. I can’t believe how soft you get sometimes.”

Rexford spoke carefully through his dead body calming exercise (a practiced separation of deductive necessities and the gross reality that they cling to). “Before I question the suspect,” he asked rhetorically without turning around, “we are sure that this is Eddy Gambo, yes?”

LaCoy crouched down and Rexford risked a backwards glance at her and the obstructed body. She pulled back the collar to examine the flesh on its neck.

“There’s that blunt badge the Ghost Talkers are dumb enough to parade around in,” she prodded the exposed crescent and square tattoo, “dumb, dumb, stupid tattle-tale mark.” Rexford noted the promenent bruises surrounding it before turning away again.

“Ask him who throttled him so thoroughly, then was tactless enough to dump him behind his own shack.”

“And left him his wallet.”

LaCoy tossed a soggy hunk of crude leather over his shoulder. It was bulging with cash and contained nothing else.

“Even the Gulan miserablities aren’t careless or dumb enough to walk around without their ID cards. Where is it?” He flipped through the bills, they were mostly small currency. All together though, they easily made up several times the mercenary burglery standard.

LaCoy rummaged through the rest of the clothing. ” Nothing else. Maybe its in the shack. Maybe just floating around somewhere.”

“No. It’s got to be long gone by now.” Rexford waded out of the water, kicking sludge off of his boots and walked back into the dimly lit common slums tunnel to think, “everyone seems to be in an awful rush. Both murders have been so sloppy. I’d say it looks like they’re tying up their loose ends, but it’s more like they’re frantically clawing at them instead. I need to ask Gumby about something.”

He stopped talking as his thoughts caught up to him.

“Crap, Gumby is in serious danger. LaCoy, they’ve got to know he’s working on this case. Find him. Run, please.”

LaCoy arched her eyeless eyebrow, but Reford’s face remained dire. She took off sprinting up the tunnel, Rexford lagging considerably behind.

Holy Rites: Part 16

Nicholas Woodard — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 08:06:44 +0000

Gumby sits solemnly regarding his fingers.

“Buck up mate, he were about to do the same on you.” Viola seems trying to project cheer as she bounds down from her alcove, a smile on her face that seems genuine but with a look of concern of her eyes. Gumby is taken in by her grace and the chance to focus on something other than murder, whether by him or upon him.

“My name’s Viola the Raving Lunatic,” she says through smacking lips. “We’re going to get along well though, so you can call me Viola.” She rubs the back of her unkempt hair and looks a more than a little awkward. She shrugs after a silence and a blush spreads through her cheeks. Gumby feels sudden great relief at finally encountering someone in these last couple of days that seems to have insecurities. He laughs a little, and rubs his nose, smiling back at her.

“I’m Gumby the Inexorable Corpse. Pleased to meet you. Love to shake your hand, but I think I’ll rest a dozen years right here instead.”

She laughs easily, seeming to find comfort in the act. Gumby spots a repression in the grit of her teeth before she meets his eyes again though and right behind the horizon of her baby-blue irises a red flash is fading away. He wonders if his tired mind is playing tricks.

“Well then Gumby,” she giggles, approaching and stooping low to hoist him up under his shoulder. It is Gumby’s turn to blush at this abrupt contact. Though filthy, Viola is not an unattractive girl.

“Let’s get right acquainted while I help you to a proper grave.”

Interlude

Nicholas Woodard — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 05:06:45 +0000

I want to take a small amount of time now to re-examine the first 15 parts. After I’ve edited and compiled them, probably losing some parts I’m not comfortable with (the hunter) and lengthening parts that I enjoyed (breakfast with Rexford), I’ll post the new version all together and work from there anew.

See you in a couple of days.

Holy Rites: Part 15

Nicholas Woodard — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 08:37:37 +0000

Deep in the Gulan Underground, a place many people in the city do not even know exists, Gumby is unconscious. He lies face up in a thin puddle, his small trickle of blood dyeing the water around his head. His shoes have been pilfered dutifully by the denizens of this community that is somehow poorer than its surface counterpart. Otherwise, he is being largely left alone. After all, these good people might pass up to a half a dozen such bodies on their way to whatever collection of tin and timber and stalagmites they call a home. In fact, just a few paces down this very tunnel another body lay prone and heavily bleeding from several large cuts, a nice pair of shoes locked in his death grip.

Viola the Raving Lunatic sits bow-legged on a nearby elevation sharpening her razors and staring intently at passersby. She gnashes loudly on a piece of gum and gives a fierce skull-eye to anyone who looks twice at her or Gumby. She has placed herself right under one of the Underground’s gooselamps. Most people who notice her quicken their pace, some just turn straight around for the comfort of a much longer route.

A stray droplet of water falls from the ceiling into Gumby’s gash and he awakens with a start.

“Bluh,” he says, then hisses and puts a hand to the stinging wound. Though warm, he shivers a bit and stands up shaky, still holding his face. Curiously he examines his bare feet and flinches, his panicked flight has left blisters all over his exposed heels.

“Now where did my shoes run off to?” he asks no one.

“Dun worry, mate. They didn’t get far,” Viola replies anyways.

Gumby nods solemnly without looking for the voice. Instead, he spots the other body and calmly moves to gather his shoes, applying a little grunt to overpower a dead man. Once in hand he moves to a dry spot against the tunnel wall and sits opposite Viola, and slowly puts them back on, flinching harder this time. After he finishes, he sighs, leans back, and meets Viola’s intense gaze. A long silence follows, excepting the steady sound of chewing and smacking of lips.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asks, sounding disinterested, but clearly probing.

“Waiting for death.”

“Oh,” she looks at her crossbow, hidden in a nook, then back up at Gumby. “Funny that. You was runnin’ from it before. Why the change a’ heart?”

“Too tired. I’d look a sad sight shifting away from a murderer, might as well perserve some dignity.” He felt nothing but pain and exhaustion now, his reserves of useful emotions had been depleted.

“Ain’t no dignity in death, mate. The sod what was trying to do you in looked pretty ridiculus dead himself.” She flashes Gumby a quick grin. “Might fancy moves you got.”

Gumby stares at his left hand in bewilderment.

“He died?”

“Oh yeah. Brutal thing, that. Poor sod never stood a chance on ya, did he?”

Holy Rites: Part 14

Nicholas Woodard — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 02:29:06 +0000

The sequence of events that follow Gumby would come to regard as a miracle.

The dagger catches his attacker’s edge with one of a dozen of it’s tiny teeth. As the force of the blow drives into him, the weapons lock instead of ricocheting as he had been expecting. He is pushed down and the dagger slides along the knife until it bites into the hunter’s knuckles. He yelps and lets his hilt go, the momentum of his swing tearing away Gumby’s weapon as well, twisting him away from his opponent, back towards the dead end. The disarmed blade scores a lathing gash on Gumby’s cheek as he spins before it flies away.

The truly miraculous part comes when in panic, fear and pain Gumby’s other hand whips around to catch the off-balanced and surprised hunter on the temple and sends him sprawling right after his knife. Stumbling with the improvisational maneuver he hops a few times to avoid collapsing as well. Dizzy from the exchange but pumped full of more adrenaline than blood, he takes off the last hop running towards the nearest stairwell without looking back and descends rapidly into darkness.

Behind him, the dazed hunter gathers himself slowly. As soon as his senses are back in order, he darts to the same stairwell to follow the echoing footsteps. With a shrill whistle, a small silver razor slices across the opening and through the back of his right hamstring, sending him cascading down head first instead. A new shadow emerges from the alley, minuscule crossbow in hand, and bounds down after him with wild acrobatic movements, fluidly vaulting over the hunter’s battered corpse, stopping once in a while to listen.

At the Jiki Joki, Saul checks the clock hanging over the mantle in his room. Something has gone predictably wrong. Humming, he gathers his shoes and opens the door.

Holy Rites: Part 13

Nicholas Woodard — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 09:43:37 +0000

On the warm dusk streets of the Gulan Magnificent, Gumby is most certainly lost. A desk clerk for all his working life, he has mastered the talent of backtracking to find his mistakes, but the forking stairwells and inexplicably overlapping tunnels of this clusterdump are defying all his efforts. The frustration is welling up in his throat. He is clueless in the most dangerous place he can name and the last trace of light is fading from the sky. Unsavory characters are beginning to follow his pacing up and down the streets with hungry, glowing eyes. For Gumby, it is a scene from his nightmares, but the feeling that seems to supersede his terror is one he has never had the pride to experience before: failure. He has completely failed the detective who trusted him to complete a simple task. The sensation is getting so overwhelming he almost stops at several dark corners to bawl his eyes out.

What prevents him from taking this noble course of action is that he is also most certainly being followed. For some time now there has been the shadow of a man in a long coat hanging just on the edge of Gumby’s peripheral each time he takes a corner. He has quickened enough that sweat is getting in his eyes, mixing with his tears, but turn after turn his pursuer is only getting closer. Stressed, sick, and sniveling, Gumby suddenly finds himself at the back of a dead end. Some talented artist has graffiti-ed a set of fake stairs here with comic intentions. Its is borderline hysterical, just like Gumby is as he turns to face his coated hunter, whose footsteps have become slow and malicious.

He comes into sight strolling, whistling, and unsheathing a rusty half-meter knife. He stops half a dozen paces from Gumby and holds the weapon low, adjusting an over sized pair of glasses with his free hand. He is a small, skinny man with short cropped red hair and freckles. He looks completely out of his element in his murderous stance, compared to LaCoy, but something in his bulging eyes and matter he seems to be tasting the air with his tongue affects Gumby enough to push him over the edge. His right eyelid begins twitching and for good measure he begins whispering to himself.

“Step one,” he says in a high voice, “is usually the easiest. Let me put you out of your misery, junior Gumby.”

Dashing forward, he jumps and swings in a high arc, bringing his blade down on Gumby’s neck with frightening accuracy. Only the most basic of human reflexs allows him to get his dagger up in time to deflect it. A gift from LaCoy, he had been nervously fidgeting with the ornate thing since he had left Falgo’s Standard, and had never quite found a moment he was comfortable enough to sheath it. The force of the hunter’s blow against his arm drives him down and forward.