Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Saturday, April 10, 2004 Yes, the Friday post is missing. That is, because, by some absurd stroke of luck I had such a filling (or otherwise disagreeable) lunch this mournful day that I went home, and proceeded to fall asleep on my bed ... for a full fourteen hours, falling asleep at 4pm and proceeding to get up at 8am the following day. Notice the discrepancy in duration, no, that is not because I have suddenly been availed of the ability to count, but because I happened to get up sometime in the night, like 9pm or so, due to the discomfort of falling asleep with all my stiff outdoor clothes on, and so I took the opportunity to have a bath, and attempted, rather valiantly, to continue filling up the miscellaneous empty posts on this site. Unfortunately, I was far too bleary eyed, and before I knew it ... well, actually I knew it. I knew that I was too tired to struggle on any further and promptly shut down the computer and went back to bed despite having got up from it only hours before. And with your skull aching from the discomfort of sleeping out of usual hours, the last thing you want to do is to strain it further by forcing yourself to think. Whoopee! Upon which, consciousness was only regained at approximately 8am the following morning, even more dazed and bewildered than ever ... only that this time I had no choice but to get up since it wasn't going to slip back into night anytime soon ... ho hum. On a separate note, I finished reading Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days and, in the general British tone and demeanour of the book, despite the fact that it was written by a Frenchman, I hereby declare that it was jolly good fun. The characters are original to the point that they fluctuate between farce and seriousness with ease, and the humour is very pointed and cynical. This is what you miss out on if you read those kiddy abridged versions of the text ... basically, everyone knows that Phileas Fogg did manage to complete his trip around the world, and why he nearly, or at least nearly believed that he had lost. But in trotting out the skeletal outline of the plot these bowdlerisers can hardly do more disservice than to leave out the very essence of the text, similar to the way Gulliver's Travels is often portrayed ("Political satire? What's that?" - a kid). No need for a book review here, you all know what it's about and many of you have probably read it already. Yes, and the truth is that it's actually an adventure story, and has absolutely no elements of science fiction as compared to most of his other works. You may receive a request to "download" a "file" when you attempt to access this site. If you do, just ignore it and keep clicking on whatever link that you're using to get here, or keep inputting the net address in the address bar and eventually you will get through. I have absolutely no idea what causes such a problem, although I observe it on a regular basis in attempting to enter Blogger-based websites, and trust me, it is all the more aggravating for me since I set it to be my Home page, and it is difficult to describe the intense annoyance that comes out of summoning Internet Explorer only for it to call up a stupid file download request box which doesn't even refer to a real file. Computers ... sigh ... so who is the master (or, more specifically, the mistress) and the servant here? posted by Charlotte | 4:17 pm (0) comments Thursday, April 08, 2004 - A Way with Words, Part X - "Charlotte ... Charlotte, you there? Get up!" As the faint whiff of old perfume mingled with sweat entered my nostrils, I awoke from my state of blankness, unaware of what had trespassed during that period but fully conscious that I had entered it. For how does one understand the sudden buckle of one's knees, and the terrible force of gravity forcing one backward, without feeling and hearing the corresponding heavy crash to the ground? That may be the case, perhaps, if instead of crumpling to the floor one landed on someone else instead, like a little girl smaller than me whose complexion, as seen through the hazy murkiness of my renewed perception, bore a mix of worry and disgruntledness. "What? Who?" As I perceived sensation flooding back into my body, I realised (and keenly felt) that it was my rear which had borne the brunt of my fall, as its duty should prescribe, and Aei had merely saved my head from encountering a similar fate, shattered against the chilly prison floor. Raising my head to look up from those staring little eyes, I observed something nearly terrifying enough to send me back into a seizure, that of the two guards hustling up Pwyns Xjrmynq, each with a metal fist raised, ready to let loose a painful punishment for frightening their Princess with his rude words. The words, of course, were unknown to them, but, in the absence of understanding them, were consistently assumed to be offensive ones. "Wait! Stop!" The formerly eloquent and cultured, beautifully poised and adorned Princess now reduced to the shocking state of a drab cast against the floor, her sentences strangled into monosyllablic utterances, was enough to catch the attention of the guards before they could pummel the helpless foreigner into submission. While one would not be able to read the guards' expressions from their helmeted features, a mere glimpse of Pwyns Xjrmynq's widened eyes was enough to tell that while he might not have the clearest idea as to his noble quest or the realism of it, he was at least concerned for his everyday princess. The shouts of consternation, however, came in a flurry. "Princess, are you all right? Do you need us to call for medical attention?" "Princess, what did he say? What vile obscenities did this rogue utter?" "Charlotte, what happened to you? How can you just roll over in the middle of a sentence?" "The will of Consonance forfend, fair maiden! I beseech you, do forgive me for my rude speech. I do understand that my quest demands a hefty sacrifice, both from me and from yourself, but I believe this is one that will be for the best of both our lands. While the meagre of our nations seek to establish superiority through warfare and plunder, it is up to us, as responsible royals of our respective states, to put an end to all this meaningless conflict, for the greater good of ..." "Stop it! Quiet! Be silent!" I ordered, almost demanded (as far as a body reduced to half a corpse could demand) and thankfully, the others were quick to keep their peace. Even Pwyns Xjrmynq, whose babbling ways had afforded him a mere sentence (albeit a long one) while the others cried out several times, read the perplexity and bewilderment in my eyes, and obediently demurred from embarking on an entire socio-political lecture. "I'm all right ... really ... I am. I was just surprised ... a little. There's no need to be worried. Let's ... continue with this discussion." Rising to my feet and dusting myself off, I was aware of my rapid transformation from a glorious Princess, fluent in the ways of the monarchial lingo and blessed with the charms of grace and allure, into just another ordinary, dirty, dusty girl. A girl with hair all tangled, dirt marks all across her plain dress, conversing with all the casualness of the commoner passerby ... would this masquerade of mine (orchestrated, no doubt, by the insidiously conniving little devil behind me) continue to hold, or would the fraud by exposed, obvious as it already was? But perhaps, the dramatism of the 'fall from grace' was the clincher, the delicate frailness so barely expected to accompany the surprising confidence and strength of will, which characterised the multifarious nature of the young creature which stood before them for little more than what she was. "Ahem. So allow me to get this straight, sir Prince," I began, clearing my throat as I took a graceful step forward, having recovered my composure, "You want to marry the Pr... I mean, to marry me. Is that ... correct?" "Yes, indeed, definitely!" exclaimed the delighted Pwyns Xjrmynq, his face all lit up like a happy puppy's, "Our unity shall be a shining example to all the people of our lands, to illustrate that there is absolutely no reason why people of two different races, speaking two different languages, should not be able to live together, to coexist in harmony and cooperation." "So, I take it that this 'marriage' is merely a symbolic gesture?" I inquired matter-of-factly, feeling that confidence, in conversation, arose out of understanding and subsequently mastering the issue at hand. Obviously, I was in no position to accept an offer of marriage on behalf of the real Princess, and naturally, I wasn't interested in marriage itself for that matter. Pwyns Xjrmynq, heir to the throne of Consonance, himself wasn't much of a looker either, looking neat and presentable but appearing somewhat starved and sallow. Plus, he needed to grasp some of the basics of conversation before any one, let alone a soul mate, can consider spending a long period of time with him while retaining both their sanity and their patience. "Does this quest of yours come with the sanction of the government of Consonance, and more importantly, with the consent of your parents? Marriage is something that needs to be taken seriously, not a trophy which one can waltz in and collect." And, for the sake of the real Princess and the two nations, it was best to address such issues before they have even begun to show themselves. "I mean no disrespect, milady ... but you seem to treat me like a child." Well, anyone who thinks that war, hatred and suffering can be solved with a mere marriage is probably in need of quite a few more years of schooling. "I am aware of the seriousness of my proposition, and its possible consequences. Naturally, it is impossible to foresee the numerous obstacles and difficulties one may encounter in treading this difficult path, nor predict every consequence, for good or otherwise, of our actions. All I can do, under such circumstances, is to trust, to trust in fate, trust in myself, and to trust in you. Therefore, I beg you, please consider my proposal. For the good of all!" "A ... all right, I apologise if I have offended you ('N ... no, no problem at all!'). But please, sir, could you elaborate as to ... the degree of support your 'quest' has received in your own nation? It would do no one any good to start a diplomatic furore over your mission here." To see their 'Princess' abasing herself before this impolite foreigner, professing apologies and humble requests, filled the pair of guards with consternation, so much so that they held their gauntleted arms to their necks as if to tug at their nonexistent collar in anxiety or to restrain themselves from putting an end to this mockery of a conversation. "Diplomacy? Ha! What diplomacy can exist between nations who, far from discussing anything, regard each other with the utmost of loathing?" cried Pwyns Xjrmynq, throwing his head back in anguish like a polished thespian, "The truth is that I have received neither sanction nor approval from either my parents nor the government of Consonance. It is my belief, in fact, that there exist members of the government in my homeland who actively seek to prolong and propogate these hostilities, although whether for their own gain or out of sheer blindness is beyond me. Surely you have seen for yourself, among your own government and your own people, how deeply they subscribe to this xenophobia, so much so that the slightest misunderstanding would be more than enough to whip them into a berserk frenzy of patriotic fervour. No, no ... to seek 'consent' from my own people would do naught more than incite more unhappiness and violence. This quest is one fuelled by little more than my own initiative, and my severe insistence, upon my princely honour, that this maniacal murder cannot be allowed to continue any longer!" Taking a moment to consider this gem of sense in the middle of his babbling, I became aware of a soft body reclining against my back, that of a distempered little girl who was in the midst of comparing his lecture to her teacher's, and who quickly concluded that whatever this foreigner was saying, it was infinitely more boring and more useless. This was as far as discussion and inquiry alone would get me, it seemed, for upon the conclusion of his rather lengthy tirade Pwyns Xjrmynq leaned back against his chair, and placed his hands to his head, in a pensive mood as if meditating ... or was it to ensure that his hair was straight and neat? Nevertheless, it looked like he had said his say, and it was my turn to make or unmake. I felt seemingly empowered some moments ago, when I first understood the level on which this stranger was conducting the discussion with me, and it was only now, when I was forced to take the initiative, that the immense burden such power entailed fell upon me. It would do no good (and it wouldn't make sense) to ask advice from either the guards or the seemingly omniscient little girl, currently engaged in exploring the contours of my back with her shoulder blades, for advice on this matter. It pained me terribly to make decisions for one not present and whose judgement and opinions might be totally different from mine, but now was the time to make the decision, not one of a lifetime, but one for a lifetime. "By all accounts, I find your objective of restoring peace to this land to be a most noble, and most attractive one ..." I started tremulously, fingers already quivering from the sheer significance of what I was to say. Upon my words, the pondering prince let his arms fall to his side and sat upright, his eyes filled with that same seriousness which possessed him during his angst-filled exclamations earlier, but now lit with an added gleam of expectation. "But ... (his eyes fell) ... I do not think this ... this proposal of yours is one which can be accepted right now ... (he looked up again) ... because, you must understand ... this circumstances are too sudden, too quick to give proper thought and consideration to, so ... (he started forward) ... I think that a decision is best made after consulting the King and Queen of Va World ..." He was about to leap forward, whether to pounce or to fall on his knees in remonstration, but the ever-watchful guards were too quick for him. For once, I was grateful of the severe, no-nonsense way in which they apprehended him, grasping him by the arms before he could stand up and physically binding him to his seat in the middle of the prison. Even if I seriously wanted to marry anyone, it would be a decision made after many days, months, perhaps, of deliberation, and not upon first sight like many flirtatious young rascals (of both genders) who unwittingly doom themselves with a single word. "But ... but that is impossible! You must understand! The government of Va World will never approve of this!" protested Pwyns Xjrmynq as he sat writhing in his seat, futilely attempting to free himself from the grip of iron, "The decision must be made out of your initiative ... as it was out of mine! It is only individually that we can make this decision, to show our willingness to stand steadfast against the wave of derision and oppression sure to rush from either of our nations. If you do agree with me that the war must be ended, then you must make your own decisions ... indeed, you already are making your own decision, in differing from the views of the ignorant masses! Make this decision for yourself, and, in turn, help influence the seemingly impenetrable minds of every one else!" "My princess, if you would only give us the order," intoned the guard to his right, all angered by his wrangling, "We would most quickly and gladly silence this miserable miscreant." "Your highness, by your most honourable leave," persuaded the guard to his right, all anxious at his warbling, "We would most humbly request that you allow us to deal with this man." "No! Stop!" I snapped, concerned for the safety of this idealistic but otherwise innocent man who might meet a most unpleasant fate at the hands of people who would not tolerate, much less try to understand him. Darting forward to shove aside (well, signal aside, seeing as to how I didn't have the slightest chance of budging two heavily-armoured hulks) the pair of guards, with Aei already out of hiding and gawking and staring at the potentially violent proceedings, I drew myself toward the frantic foreigner to confront him in my own style, face to face. "Look, good sir Prince, I have told you on what accounts your proposal may be accepted (I using the passive voice, personally refraining from saying 'I may accept ...', hey, shirking responsibility comes as second habit to me ... *shrugs*), and it is on those terms that I am willing to comply. I understand your mission, your aspirations and all that, but if it does not suit you to return home with a definitive rejection you will put aside your idealism, and meet me on my terms by first consulting the King and Queen of Va World. Do I make myself understood?" Talking to him as if he was a child, he says? Well, now I felt more like his mother ... his mother-in law. It took someone with much authority to tell a Prince of his error and since I happened to be somewhat fortuitously (only for such a matter ...) blessed with such an authority, it might well have been my duty to counsel him otherwise. The room fell into an awed silence. Pwyns Xjrmynq looked alarmed, almost terrified as he seemed bound to the back of his chair by a force even stronger than the hands of burly guards, guards who themselves backed away out of fear and respect for such a royal display of anger, while Aei the little conniver herself stood alone cringing, her fingers stuck between trembling teeth to keep them from chattering, no doubt rethinking her next plan to land another scam or shenanigan upon my unsuspecting head lest the anger burst forth once again. Even I was impressed ... enough to realise how impossibly fierce I had become, for a moment, and in an attempt to conceal my insecurity over the potential repercussions of those last words I glanced away, eyes closed and teeth gritted, folding my arms as my back served as a wall to shut myself off from that same unlucky man. The stunned silence, punctuated only by deep, heavy breaths permeated with emotion, was finally broken by the creak of Pwyns Xjrmynq edging forward from his seat. "Then ... then there is no hope for me, no hope for peace, for cooperation, for unity in this troubled land ..." he whispered sorrowfully to himself as I listened intently without turning to observe him, "I cannot return, return to that homeland of mine, which I have been willing to cast aside only to return to it the joy and prosperity it once enjoyed. I shall die ... alone ..." At those last words, however, something stirred up in me, a voice which spoke not so much on behalf of others, or on behalf of common sense, but for myself. "How can you say there isn't any hope when you didn't even bother to try, you moron?" Those words, which escaped my lips in a whisper not too dissimilar from Pwyns Xjrmynq's own, seemed to reverberate around the room and return to my ears more than once ... for such was the nature of the silence which pervaded the room immediately following its utterance. Even the ponderous breaths of emotion before seemed to give way this time, give way to meek sips of air taken gingerly out of fear of shattering the delicate silence. But eventually, it, like every silence must, was broken. "You are right ... you are right, most noble Princess Uaeouue ..." the wretched man murmured. At this, I turned about, even with the disdain of forcing myself to answer to a name that was not my own, and gave ear to his words. "Whether as a royal, or as a person, you are beyond a doubt the pinnacle of wisdom and clear-headedness in the sea of tumult and discord that so inundates these confused people, a pinaccle which, I confess, until today I believed myself to be ... Before, I indicated to you that I was totally and utterly in your service, and I reaffirm this, that for as long as I walk the soil of this glorious country, you will be my guide in my every thought and action. With regards to my proposal, I shall most wholeheartedly do as you feel is appropriate." "Thank you! Your cooperation is most appreciated!" I smirked gleefully like a satisfied salesgirl, nearly breaking out into a giggling fit at finally being able to sway this incredibly determined yet impossibly stubborn young man to the path of sensibility and rationality. Turning confidently to the closest guard, the one which I thought sounded friendlier, I issued my orders in the appearance, but not the name of the Royal Princess Uaeouue. "Good sir, it is absolutely imperative that we meet the King and Queen of Va World for further deliberation as to the issue this man has put forward. We would be most thankful if you could contrive for us some means of transportation to ... to ..." And it was then that I realised that I had no idea where the King and Queen of Va World (I look up to my parents, most certainly, but I profess great difficulty in imagining them as King and Queen) lived, where their private residence was located, or in which city, no doubt with an unpronounceable name, the royal palace was located. Oops. "The Palace ... ?" Aei offered helpfully, though she sounded somewhat distressed in the speaking of it, "The ... the King and Queen of Va World?" I didn't have my eye on her at that moment, but listening to the rustling of her robe, she seemed to be shifting rather uneasily. "Indeed, your highness! A means of transportation to the Palace shall be arranged!" the guard I addressed affirmed heartily as he bowed in comfirmation of the order, yet not so deeply as to lose his balance and fall head over heels into a pile of metal, "Uae, would you remain to guard this room? It would be terrible if anything should happen to the Princess, after she has been found again at last." I recalled, then, that the Princess was supposed to be lost, which more than served to aid the townsfolk's suspicions that I was the Princess in disguise, and the logical act upon recovering her would be to return her to her parents, who were no doubt impossibly anxious over her disappearance. "Beg your pardon, your majesty, but I fear that we can escort you no further than here," the guard I ignored remarked gravely as the pair proceeded to retrieve their weapons, in himself probably pondering what it was about his partner that caught my favour, "Eau, I don't think there's a need to remain. The Princess seems in control of the situation, and besides, we have already disarmed that man." I remembered the scene back in the town square, where Pwyns Xjrmynq, helplessly held in a lock by the guards flanking him, had squirmed and flailed about futilely in his attempt to escape, and his sudden reversal moments later, pledging himself into my service. An observer might consider his actions to be nothing more than part of an elaborate hoax, but the sincerity and devotion I saw he had for his cause convinced me otherwise. Agreeing among themselves that I was safe in the prison cell, with the mysterious foreigner and a leering child for companions, apart from the possibility that the man might suddenly launch into a beserker rage and throttle me there and then (however, judging from how starved he looked an identical payout seemed to be on the cards ...), the guards proceeded to file out of the room, their weapons in hand, before standing side by side in the middle of the passageway to make their parting comments. "Please remain in this room for now, my princess," instructed the gruffer-sounding guard, who toted a vicious halberd as his weapon, "The secretary shall attend to you shortly to provide you with details of your conveyance hereforth." "We shall take our leave now, by your grace," informed the gentler-sounding guard, who bore a sleek spear as his weapon, "Do not wander, keep safe here ... and I hope you have enjoyed your time in our humble township!" Standing side by side, the guards thumped the shaft of their polearms against the ground in synchrony, in some kind of militaristic salute, before proceeding to bow ... almost! Just as they inclined their heads forward, they seemed to simultaneously recall the misfortune that befell them the last time they tried to bow together while standing in a passageway, and meekly satisfied themselves with a nod of the head before filing off down the corridor, leaving me in the threadbare room, poorly ventilated by a single barred window, in the company of a mischievous, conniving girl and an ardent young prince. But Aei didn't seem to be plotting anything this time around, in fact, she seemed to be on tenterhooks, nervously nibbling at her fingernails in a similar posture to when I saw her last before turning to address Pwyns Xjrmynq. Waiting until the guards were out of earshot, and gingerly peering out into the corridor to confirm that fact, she released her hand to scratch unconsciously at her cheeks still sore from their lacerating earlier, and ventured to speak. "C ... Charlotte, you're not really serious on marrying this Prince, are you?" she murmured, her teeth still chattering. I drew back in shock, aware that the Prince in question was still sitting in the middle of the room, innocently listening to what was being said, before realising that he did not understand a word of what Aei was saying, meaning that she can speak as she pleased without any response from his part. However, I didn't have that same privilege ... and how to answer that girl, without blatantly giving away my identity? Enter the passive voice. "Well, did it sound like I was?" Without the knowledge of the preceeding question, did that sound vague enough? Hooray for the ability to obscure, to obliterate, to obfuscate! "Whether the Princess shall truly marry this man will depend largely on the will of her parents, how much value she finds in his proposal ... and most importantly, how much she values him as a man and a husband." Unfortunately, but exceedingly thankfully, those decisions were not mine to make. I, as the imitation Princess in the absence of the real one, served only to indicate the way. At hearing my densely veiled comments on the chances of him eventually marrying the Princess, Pwyns Xjrmynq raised his eyes a little, but made no suggestion or comment, the chivalry in his royal blood probably indicating the inadvisability of attempting to influence a lady with regard to such matters. "And ... and you're going to the Palace, to consult her parents over this? Whether it's a good idea, in the name of peace, for the Princess Uaeouue to marry this man?" Aei asked, her eyes widening, clearly no less relieved at my assertive and assured reply. That unattended hand of hers, which had before satisfied itself with merely brushing over the sore redness of her cheeks, now proceeded to dig its nails further into her pale, unspoiled skin. "Yes, I believe that's only the right course of action. Shouldn't you consider your parents' thoughts before doing anything?" I replied matter-of-factly, before, observing her shiftiness, a thought sprang into my head, an opportunity to get back on that malicious little miscreant whose misdemeanours have caused me no end of misery. "Why? Is it because you can't come along with me? I guessed that you would be interested, getting in touch with real, blue-blooded royalty, involving yourself in court intrigues, and all that? Isn't that right?" As the sinister grin I had so often seen plastered over her face now spread across mine, I was practically delirious with joy. This, this was the most delicious riposte ever, a parting shot as vengeance for all that suffering and embarrassment she had inflicted upon me thus far. "No! You idiot!" she snapped derisively, the saliva from her exclamations striking the tip of my snobbishly raised nose, which quickly drew back at the shock of her explosive reprimand, "You're going to talk to the King and Queen? Of course they'd know what their daughter really looks like! You blithering nincompoop, you're going to get caught for impersonating the Princess, and you, and me, are both going to be executed for that!" "I ..." And then, for a second time in a row, the horror struck me. I did not fall into a faint, but my slightly tinged expression rapidly fell into such a pallor that I looked as if I had failed to recover from one. Urp! What horrible, hopeless machinations has this dauntless, but ultimately misguided young heroine worked herself into now? Aah!! Stay tuned, for the next ... wait, this isn't a television serial. - Your ends adventure here! - posted by Charlotte | 4:54 pm (0) comments Wednesday, April 07, 2004 Wrote a little more, and also finished reading a big big book of H.G. Wells' short stories. Hmm ... from this, I now know better than to read big big books of short stories. For starters, short stories aren't the most interesting thing to read unless they're able to catch your attention very quickly, something that Wells can do with some of his stories. However, others are period humour, based on characters and situations deemed funny at that point in time. Try talking about Mohamet or Hindoo gods in the street in that same jocular way some of his characters do, and remember to book a hospital ward while you're at it. Of course, I'm not saying I dislike him, it's just that in a big big book of short stories, the variety of stories becomes a little too diverse, and if you're looking for a particular type of story (like I was) you'll get disappointed on numerous occasions. What is interesting is the way some of his stories have philosophical takes on all sorts of issues, from religion to politics, knowledge, and even enlightenment and nirvana. What I also liked was the way he attempts to offer scientific explanations for everything, and while in the name of fiction he takes many liberties it's rather interesting to speculate on what he comes up with. However, one thing I found unpleasant after a while was his constant fluctuating between different personalities. Of course, that does add variety to the stories, but it creates an undue amount of abruptness between one story and the next, and while that is to be expected of a collection of short stories, it really, really gets on your nerves in a big book of them. What I gradually began to dislike after a while, and I'm sure many people out there would too, is also the way many of his characters are overly empowered. It's the same thing that draws flames on FanFiction.net ... writing a self-insert and making your character too powerful, as a more readily accessible example. His stories where the main character is at a disadvantage are few and far between, and even those that are there do not strike me as being particularly good at encouraging sympathy. This is more a quirk than a real problem, but all of his main characters seem to be incredibly proficient at science in all disciplines ... considering that Wells himself was a biologist ... but it does leave one rather wired after a while. Of course, I have my favourites in the list of stories. Try reading "The New Accelerator", of course by H.G. Wells, about someone who invents a chemical that can make people go super fast, described in a fairly normal, easy-going manner ... think Einstein's General Theory of Relativity. Of course, it's scientifically impossible, but the way the problems and issues of going super fast are dealt with in a scientific manner, such as people's clothes and bodies catching fire from the heat or them getting hungry quickly are a joy to read. Interestingly enough, it casts an insight into the morals and ethics of the people who make drugs for commercial use ... hmm ... If you wish to read it, you can just search for its title over the internet and there'll be someone whose site has it posted. It's much more creative and amusing than simply shouting "Layer upon layer make your mark now!" ... and going faster. Speaking of searching on the internet, trying to relieve the stress from the pounding upon my eardrums of the construction work I did something silly over the internet. Try searching for all sorts of names and terms on any all-compassing search engine, like Google for example, and be amazed at what you can come up with. Search for things that are related or dear to yourself ... and you might find several honourable and less-than-honourable mentions over the internet for them. For example, I searched for 'Chaotic Disintegrate', which is a spell from the Slayers, and guess what? This site is right at the top of the list in Go.0gle! If there really are that many people visiting here, couldn't you all post some comments or anything, huh, please please please? It's so drab and lonely ... *sniffle* -// n.n;\\7 Ugh, talk about the best way to get construction work to start! Just try to go to sleep ... it works every time! posted by Charlotte | 4:51 pm (0) comments Tuesday, April 06, 2004 Here is a joke for your reading pleasure, while I lack anything interesting to write An author is someone who actually feels they need to and deserve to take a two-year sabbatical off their work. A good author, on the other hand, is someone who really does take two-year sabbaticals off their work. A successful author, however, is someone who takes two-year sabbaticals off their work ... every other year. Ooh ... talk of 'working environment'. The neighbouring house is undergoing renovations, and that means that I can neither work (in the form of writing) or play, whether the games, or music, or rest by watching television or just going to sleep. And I can't just leave the house either, since I'm on a diet ... I mean, a budget. So you see, things are difficult for me ... Shut up, you lazy bum! Excuses, excuses, excuses. But real-ly! Maybe it's just that I stress myself too much. But even if I tried not to stress myself too much, I'd stress myself by thinking about the costs of not stressing myself, and ... Heck. If you've got nothing good to say, shut up and go to sleep and be refreshed for the next day. Moany. posted by Charlotte | 4:15 pm (0) comments Monday, April 05, 2004 BUMP! I'm not proud of it. But hey, even if nothing interesting and readable does appear on these daily 'updates', at least you know my mood at the time. It isn't good, and is unlikely to get better for a long long time. I am very much aware that I still owe people work, and judging by the meagre amount that I am able to write at each burst ('old unfaithful', perhaps?) it seems likely to be unfilled for a long time, even though it merely takes an injection of about a couple of hours or so. And I have at least 12 waking hours a day, much of which is spent merely whiling about. Some people enjoy doing nothing at all ... and I'm acutely aware of the ease by which you can waste time away by simply being knowledgeable of your suffering. I should seriously change the subtitle above to "Paid Attention To Every Day". posted by Charlotte | 4:37 pm (0) comments Sunday, April 04, 2004 - War of Words, Part X.ii - 32. And do I care? No. Get stuffed. "Real-ly?" I hissed insultingly as I raised my eyebrows, less than impressed at his overly grand and self-flattering way of introducing himself. At least Pwyns Xjrmynq could be forgiven for behaving like an utter idiot, imbecility being something that was usually inherent in inbred royal families, "So what's it to us, huh?" At this deliberately less-than-pleasant remark, the somewhat disturbed (mentally disturbed, perhaps) man gave me an unfriendly glance as he tipped the corner of the large straw hat over his head a little. His hesitation, or his consideration, perhaps, gave me a little time to carefully survey this new adversary. Dressed in a plain cotton shirt and dusky, dull trousers, his appearance was that of a middle-aged man, with neatly-cropped brown hair, of fairly average height and of medium build, a little meatier than the lanky, almost undernourished Pwyns Xjrmynq (my only convenient point of reference). He didn't seem particularly presentable for a 'representative of the Palace', largely because, although he was washed and clean-shaven, his clothes had the odd patch of sawdust-brown dirt about it, and he reeked of a musty, almost animal-like smell. Least attractive, of course, were the undue amount of accessories he wore about his clothes, such as an assortment of pouches big and small about his belt, and of course his ridiculous-looking rimmed and domed straw hat, which covered his forehead but sank all the way at the back to cap his skull like a fibrous lamprey. I looked him over once again, only to find, not unsurprisingly, that as I raised my eyes to observe his face that same curious staring glance, a mixture of mystery and mockery, was leering back at me from the eyes of the newcomer himself. "Out of my way, wench!" he snarled as he brushed his hands one over the other, "I won't discuss business with just anyone, and especially not snivelling little girls like yourself! This matter is far above the level of understanding of anyone as meagre and petty as a mere girl." What? Audacious! I can understand how adults are often unwilling to put their affairs in the trust of children, especially where modesty, secrecy or efficiency are concerned, but to couch it in such demeaning terms! Oh sure, I know I wasn't particularly pleasant in the first place, but ... he started it! "Well pardon me, officious and overbearing sir," I retorted, now more inclined to be insulting than actually informative, fuelled by a bravery both borne of a naturally indignant spirit and a conviction that I wasn't doing anything wrong in the first place, "You might like to know that the person you seek is not conversant in the local language and he has instructed me to settle his affairs on his account. So, if you have any business with him, you'll have to go through it with me." "Ha! The irony!" he laughed arrogantly as he threw back his head, that straw hat of his held to his skull by some adhesive property, "That a profane, lisping wretch like yourself should be in the service of a man! Applaudable, yes, but it certainly amazes me how someone of such a weak frame can shoulder any more responsibilities than cooking and cleaning for your man." My man? Perhaps I sounded a bit possessive in helping him but I assure you that was entirely in the defence of my own interests. Plus, if that conceited moron could just lay off insulting me (and, incidentally, I lay off insulting him) and actually hear me out he would realise that the desired target of Pwyns Xjrmynq's romantic affections happened to be someone else, and not me. All that was needed was to break this deadlock. "Whatever you say, mister," I muttered disjointedly but clearly, to make known my disaffection for the present direction of the conversation, "Now, if you would get down to the reasons of your being here and what you intend to do, we could avoid all this idle chatter and save us all much time. My time, and your time." "Ooh, a lady of no nonsense ... I like that in a girl. It marks them out as strong-willed and spirited individuals, standing up for themselves the way only a real man could," he remarked disdainfully as he coolly blew across his knuckles, "You remind me of that nice lady who directed me here ... in your fiery, rebellious attitude, I mean. Of course, you don't look half as attractive as she does, heh heh ..." While he confirmed his harbouring of less than honest interests with a grotesque smack of his lips, compelled by a natural curiosity I peered over the top of his shoulder to see the aforementioned lady standing a little ways down the corridor, hands on her hips, utterly outraged. She seemed rather tall, or perhaps that was due to her sculpted hairstyle or possibly her choice of footwear, but it was impossible to discern if she had the brawn normally associated with large-sized people as everything below her collar, excepting the tips of her fingers, was hidden by a large, plain dress, one which looked almost tentlike if it was not for a belt which was necessary at the waist. What that dress could not hide, however, was her buxom figure, accentuated by the plainness of her dress, one which was bound to incite distasteful fantasies in the heads of hormonally-charged ne'er-do-wells like the imbecile standing before me. She was naturally offended by this Io Aoi's vulgar remarks, but as she caught me gazing at her curiously her expression lit up as she thrust a fist into the air, cheering me on in the battle against male chauvinism. "Um, is there something over there?" Io Aoi inquired as he glanced to his side, only to see the lady he had just spoken of darting away down the corridor, lifting the hem of her overlarge skirt as she ran. "A pity. I would've liked to see more of her ..." Well, if she and I had cooperated, I'm sure the two of us would be more than enough to beat him down and batter him in places where he most needed it, but I sometimes get ahead of myself, assaulting him not being the primary issue at hand. "So are you going to say anything useful, or are you going to indulge in more of your idle fantasies?" I snapped, already at the end of my tolerance and patience, "If you're going to dream on, do me a favour and shut yourself outside so I don't have to listen to it." Not that he had said anything exceeding explicit, but just hearing his insider little murmurings was already making me cringe. "You're a damned impatient kid, you know! Can't you let a man enjoy a moment of quiet solace ("Yeah, right ...")? Don't you ever get such feelings about the opposite sex, or have you been struck barren or something?" What the heck? I could not help but stiffen in anger, to visibly express my annoyance at that last derisive comment. "So high-strung and prudish for such a young girl ... or is it because ... hehehe ..." As a crude grin spread across those otherwise proper-looking lips of his, I racked my brain in trying to figure out just what he was implying this time around. Whatever it was, it didn't sound pleasant, and perhaps it was best that I never knew what it was at all. "N ... none of your bees-wax!" I stammered, all hot and flustered as I batted away an imaginary insect that seemed to be plaguing my attention. It was bad enough having to speak to an utter pervert, and it was all the worse to be taken the moral high ground against and having some indecipherable, but undoubtedly unpleasant insinuations made about yourself. "Now tell me what you want right now, or I'm going to shut this door in your face!" And, it definitely didn't help that my heated explosions were attracting the attention of an otherwise very much silent Pwyns Xjrmynq, more than curious as to why I was railing at this newcomer in a fashion so disturbed that even he would be proud of it. "Hey, cool it, girlie ... see, even your royal friend over there is giving you funny looks," Io Aoi exclaimed, doing his very best to placate the seething young maiden standing before him, while largely oblivious to the fact that it was his thoroughly chauvinistic and self-obsessed attitude which had me so worked up in the first place, "Let me tell you now ... I'm Io Aoi, intrepid explorer, and not a minister or anything, as if it is that great a job in the first place. I don't have the authority to pass judgement on you or your foreign trespasser friend over there, I'm just the messenger, and I've been ordered to ferry the two of you from Ouaiie to the Palace to meet higher authority. Got that, kid?" "Of course, middle-aged mister," I replied in turn, a little mellowed now that he had fully explained his identity and his purpose, but nonetheless exceedingly purturbed by the condescending attitude with which he regarded me. Noticing the intent eyes of a roused Pwyns Xjrmynq now seeking to take an active part in the conversation, I quickly sought to clarify his assertion, repeating it for the benefit of our foreign friend. "So, you're Io Aoi, the intrepid explorer, and your job is to send us to the Palace so that we can get in touch with higher authority, is that right?" "Yes, dear lady, that is absolutely correct," he remarked matter-of-factly, before he cast his eyes down at me a little more intensely and his face set into a belligerent sneer, "Allow me to inform you, however, that the method of transportation there will be my carriage, drawn by my own very dear horse Iiua, and that in my carriage, I set the rules. I don't want any of your overblown feminist gabble in my vehicle, you've got that?" As if to emphasise the threat, his lower lip slackened to expose a perfect row of teeth ... perfectly unbrushed, that is. "And what shall you do if I don't obey?" I smirked unhumorously, unfazed by his inimical attitude, "Throw me out, or something? Isn't your job to ferry us both to this Palace of yours as prisoners?" "That's the point, isn't it? As prisoners?" chuckled the perverse abomination standing before me as he folded his arms, bemused, "So what that means is that I have the authority to do whatever I want, to ensure that you comply, as long as you're kept alive. There are many things that can be done which might ... how shall we put it ... leave you in a state where you're unable to reply?" Raising his eyebrows, shaded slightly by the rim of his straw hat, it was impossible to discern whether that last comment was made as a joke or as fair warning for what was to come. But I wasn't one to succumb to such vile threats, especially when it concerned ... well, I don't know, actually. I raised my chest, drawing in a deep breath of air, ready to burst forth in a torrent of anger, when that very target of my antagonism did not much more than raise a finger and tap me lightly on the shoulder, stunning me to the extent that I gagged and was on the verge of regurgitating with all that air trapped in me. "Actually, kid, I don't think it's right for us to be arguing when we don't even know each other's names, or rather, I don't even know your name, at least," he explained, no more aggressive than being merely patronising, as I glared at him while in the process of dusting off my newly defiled shoulder, "All I was told by those guards was to take note of a violent, abusive, impolite little girl with a severe attitude problem. So, who're you?" Wow. I must have been pretty darn threatening to have been considered potentially dangerous by a pair of guards armoured from head to toe. "You're right, I don't believe we have introduced ourselves," I muttered resentfully as I recovered my composure, "I'm Charlotte, Charlotte Tan, and sitting over there is the heir to the throne of Consonance himself, mister Pwyns ..." As I cast my hand back to indicate the reclining royal, I was again shocked when the side of my flying palm met warm, sweaty flesh, the victim of such reckless palm-swinging being the unlucky person in question. "You mind?" exclaimed a startled Pwyns Xjrmynq in an uncharacteristically uncouth manner as he caressed the side of his face which had been swotted like the imaginary bug just minutes before, "I apologise for my abruptness ... but Charlotte, faithful Xkwyr, do allow me to handle this individual. I sense that you are feeling much hostility in the interaction thus far, and I cannot allow that to jeopardise my mission which has already proceeded thus far." "I beg your pardon, sir?" I replied unhappily as I whirled about to face my companion who had intruded, uninvited, into the discussion, "I assure you, whatever that we have discussed bears no relevance to your quest whatsoever! It's just that this guy here, he ... well ... didn't you just say a few moments ago that I was doing well in assisting you, that you had put all your affairs into my trust?" "You entrusted all of your affairs to a psychopathic maniac like her? No wonder you're in a heap of trouble!" quipped Io Aoi, similarly uninvited in this settlement of affairs between colleagues, "Look, mister, if I were you, I'd cut myself off from this seriously dangerous and ill-minded kid before it was too late. Like right now, for example ..." To emphasise his point, he cut downward with his palm like the blade of a knife ... a fairly thick one all stiffened into wrinkles. Only to have it grasped eagerly by an ardent Pwyns Xjrmynq all too anxious to reconcile with his hosts. "I thank you for your greeting, good sir, and I do humbly apologise for any trespasses that my undiscerning follower may have incurred ..." Undiscerning? What the heck? Perhaps my 'master' was even more so, not realising that greeting him was hardly the intention of the exceedingly unpleasant newcomer, and in failing to realise that not a single word he was saying was being understood by its intended recepient. "Allow me to introduce myself as Pwyns Xjrmynq, scion of the ruling family and heir to the throne of Consonance, and it is my pleasure to meet an honoured representative of the government of Va World such as yourself ..." "Um ... well ... I see ... uh, same to you, good sir," murmured Io Aoi as he observed his outstretched hand being shaken with the most eager of energies, with absolutely no reciprocation from his own. Presumably, feeling at a loss, he closed his thumb over that half-finished handshake, completing the weakest of knots of friendship and understanding. "I'm sure you already know that I'm Io Aoi, an intrepid explorer of Va World, your assistant here having already introduced me to you ..." With that, he indicated me with his other hand, carefully making sure that it was kept out of reach so that it was not misinterpreted for another offer of friendship, but, similarly, utterly unaware that both of them were not in the comprehension of each others' utterances, and therefore every action and expression of theirs was prone to misinterpretation by the other party. Speaking of misinterpretation ... "Yes, thank you very much for accepting my apology, on behalf of my noble Xkwyr Charlotte," Pwyns Xjrmynq intoned, bowing his head as he released the hand of his partner in mutual misinterpretation, "Do not worry, I am aware that sometimes her zealousness and loyalty can lead to unnecessary and preventable conflicts with other people such as your honoured self, but this shortcoming serves only to illustrate the degree of her devotion to my cause ..." "Uh ... right ... I think I understand what you mean ... sort of ..." Io Aoi stammered as he scratched the back of his head, obviously not in the least as knowledgeable as he claimed to be, "Actually, I really wonder what it's like, having to work with a screaming and squeamish little girl like this, day in, day out ... surely your nerves must take quite a battering. And all this feminist drivel at that! Don't you think that it's ... like, you know, gone to her head a bit? Because, you see ..." Blah blah blah and blah. And here were two utter idiots blathering on to each other, imagining they are engaging each other in constructive conversation while they themselves are merely ekeing out replies to what they most imagine to be the other's reaction, which happens, in truth, to be absolutely nothing like it! Sure, I can forgive the initial misunderstandings, as perhaps Pwyns Xjrmynq might expect the 'high-ranking official' from the Palace to be fluent in the language of Consonance, while this explorer Io Aoi might anticipate that a royal from the other nation would be able to communicate with him on the terms of Va World. But no, no, no! Why won't they realise, or even merely acknowledge that they haven't a clue what each other is saying? Does this have something to do with the male ego or anything like that? This is stupid, ridiculous, utter nonsense! I must have intelligent conversation, I must! "Don't the two of you realise that you can't understand what the other person is saying at all? You're not actually communicating, you're just responding to what you think the other person is saying? Why don't you just give up on this and get moving to the Palace?" I screeched, the blood rushing to my head as my anger reached its boiling point causing the bottle that I was to explode in a less than amicable outburst, "Do the two of you understand where I'm coming from here?" I didn't have enough time, or patience, right now, to explain all that details about how I came to be speaking both languages at the same time, but surely, surely at least, the two could admit the futility of their blabbering? The pair glared at each other, clean-shaven chin to clean-shaven chin, small, slit-like eyes to round ogling ones, wavelike flowing locks to trimmed and short ones hidden under a stupid hat ... and muttured one word. The same word. "No." "Oh, goodness! The two of you weren't even talking about similar things and now you both come about and say exactly the same word ..." I murmured, mortified at this absurd turn of events, "That is so ... so frightening ..." "Really?" remarked both as they turned from me to peer even deeper into each other, finding nothing but the tips of each other's noses. I mean, yeah, sure, they couldn't understand each other and thus, didn't realise that they were saying the same thing but me ... poor little me, who was listening to both of them, heard the same thing twice, and having just sat through an unpleasant experience with a pair of near-twins who spoke in pairs, doing everything except repeating each other word for word ... "Stop it! Stop it!" I wailed horribly as I clapped my hands over my ears and squashed my head down into my dress in an attempt to shut off all of that moronic travesty of a conversation. But even then, I could not avail myself of the torture as the words seemed to seep in through the cracks between my fingers, into my poor quivering ears, words, spoken by two different people, who seemed, eerily enough, to be saying the same thing ... "Weird girl." I don't know whether the actual fact was that they both said those same words, or that they had each murmured something totally different, but I, in my paranoia, had perceived them to be exactly the same. It didn't matter, anyway, because I was now so utterly terrified that it was imperative I escape this madness that very instant. With my hands over my ears, and my head and elbows locked together over my chest in a morbid fetal position, I ducked beneath the arm of Io Aoi, standing in the doorway, and leapt out, out into the corridor, screaming as I ran. Unless those screams, too, were only resounding through my skull. - Yooru adobenshuru endosu hieru ... shikashi, eijin nihongo wakaranai da ne ... = ( - posted by Charlotte | 4:42 pm (0) comments Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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