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Posted

It was a bright September morning, slightly chilly in the air with the coming of winter.  I had just pulled on a really bad system skirt and top that I had made the day before from textures in the library and walked out once more into the world, looking around inquisitively.

I was a newbie.

I found a small area which seemed appropriate and stood there, thinking hard of lessons I had been taught at The Island.  Carefully, hesitantly, I stretch out my hand and concentrated.  Squeezing my eyes closed, small beads of perspiration on my brow, and forced every essense of my being into the fingers of my right hand, and in an instant colors!  Colors burst forth in a stream of bright energy and where it met the ground -- a cube.

I had made a cube.  I have created.. a ... cube!

At this point I considered what my title would be, something akin to 'Janelle, Mistress of Cubes'.  I reflected on how it might display over my head and if it would be magnificent enough to convey my awesomeness at creating 0.5x0.5 meter plywood cubes with only my hands and my powers of squinting.

Then I crashed.

Colors swirled around my head and I felt dizzy as I reappeared in an unfamiliar place.  Shading my eyes I discovered I had been transported back to The Island by some unseen force... but as the realization of events hit me I realized a terrible, terrible reality; I had left the cube somewhere in some long-forgotten place, all alone, desolate, never knowing if I'd return to it and bring it back home...

Do cubes have thoughts?

Do they dream?

....I miss you, my little plywood cube.

Come home.

Posted


Qwalyphi Korpov wrote:

 

I yearn for you tragically.

 

I have been trying to parse this to no avail.

Is it tragic that you yearn?

Is it tragically  that you yearn for?

Is tragically a pet name you have for Janelle?

Is that what you called her when you whispered sweet nothings in her ear?

Tragically, this poor grammarian yearns to understand what your true yearning is.

Posted


Qwalyphi Korpov wrote:


Perrie Juran wrote:


Qwalyphi Korpov wrote:

 

I yearn for you tragically.

 

I have been trying to parse this to no avail.

Is it tragic that you yearn?

Is it tragically  that you yearn for?

Is tragically a pet name you have for Janelle?

Is that what you called her when you whispered sweet nothings in her ear?

Tragically, this poor grammarian yearns to understand what your true yearning is.

For a time I was very involved with ReportInappropriateContent.  A relationship that had no future it now seems..  The usual breakdowns.  My little notes occasionally ignored.  RIC insisted that I follow a complex set of rules.  Meanwhile she.. I call her she... she did as she wished.  Then it was as if I didn't exist.  You know how it goes...my day breaks, my mind aches, there will be times when things she said will fill my head.  I won't forget her. It seemed it could have lasted years and then somehow crumbles.

Anyway I yearn for her tragically.   I think.

Who is Janelle?  (Edit - Oh.  I see.  The name in the title.  I was really talking to about RIC.)

(additional edit:  I shouldn't have been so obscure.  It's just that suddenly I was missing her so and I just kinda blurted things out.)

Yet sometimes we still want her, we need her and we don't believe her when she says she no longer needs us.

Why she had to to go we don't know, she wouldn't say.

 

Posted

What, is, this?

Don't give me that look.  You know damn well what I'm talking about -- I found your little love note in your jacket pocket when I was snoopi-doing the laundry.

Don't give me that.  Who is Rikki person?  One of your little girlfriends?

Why did you give her your number?

Don't lie to me!

Is this why you've been staying late at work?

..."Collecting acorns for the winter?"

It's March!

Get out!

I don't care if it IS your house!  Get out!

Fine, I'll leave!

Mom was right about you from the beginning!

What do you mean who?!

Mom!

...my mom... isn't ... isn't this 555-1973?

--5309?

Ummmm.  Oops!  Bye!  *click*

Posted

I'll admit I don't know the first thing about roleplaying.. I'm terrible at it anyway.  I can manage one sentence and sometimes quotation marks unless I get distracted by something.

...she typed, the black plastic keys clicking under her manicured fingernails.  Glancing at the screen she fixed a typo and re-read what she had typed, frowning slightly as it wasn't quite what she had meant to say but would suffice for now.  For a moment she realized how rare it was that she was able to make any sense to begin with, and smiled at the thought.  Sharpie lay at her side on the desk, purring contentedly, his claws drawing against the cover of a small stack of catalogs.  She looked at him and wondered why do cats enjoy sleeping on paper so much?  The cat gazed lazily back at her and offered no explanation.

Posted


Janelle Darkstone wrote:

I'll admit I don't know the first thing about roleplaying.. I'm terrible at it anyway.  I can manage one sentence and sometimes quotation marks unless I get distracted by something.

...she typed, the black plastic keys clicking under her manicured fingernails.  Glancing at the screen she fixed a typo and re-read what she had typed, frowning slightly as it wasn't quite what she had meant to say but would suffice for now.  For a moment she realized how rare it was that she was able to make any sense to begin with, and smiled at the thought.  Sharpie lay at her side on the desk, purring contentedly, his claws drawing against the cover of a small stack of catalogs.  She looked at him and wondered why do cats enjoy sleeping on paper so much?  The cat gazed lazily back at her and offered no explanation.

The Martian stood outside in the street thinking about the Cat and its Human inside. 

This was a very special Cat, having stronger telepathic abilities than the Martian had seen in any Cat before.  Also, this Cat had secretly learned both how to read and type.  And the Martian needed it's help to send a message back home.

Standing there quietly in the shadows on the street the Martian concentrated.  Focusing on the Cat, he sends images of fresh fish with the thought, "I have fresh fish for you if you'll help me.  Lots and lots of fresh fish."

The Cat looks up at its Human and licks its lips.  As an image of fresh tuna rolls through its mind the Cat flexes its claws on the paper its been reading.  The Cat thinks to itself, how can I distract my Human so I can help this Martian.  It flexes its claws on the paper again as it gazes at its Human, a smile on his face.

Posted

Bringing up a new tab in Firefox she clicked over to the Bank of America web site to make sure the water bill had gone through, when she noticed another strange purchase she hadn't remembered making.  What is this, she wondered as she peered at the screen and scrolled down slowly with the mouse wheel -- another scratching post?  Four cases of tuna fish?  Sixteen rolls of extra-long toilet paper?  She checked the transaction date and realized that the purchase had been made while she was at work, and for a moment she felt a slight panic that perhaps someone had broken into her house and been on her computer...

Sharpie suddenly leapt from his resting spot and landed on her bare thigh, kneading his claws in and purring madly.  She yelped in surprise and grabbed him with both hands, picking him up and bringing the cat to eye level.  "Agh!  Kitty!  Bad kitty!  I told you to stop doing that..!"

Sharpie fixed his gaze into her eyes.

From somewhere, someplace, she knew the words.  She had heard the song on the classic rock station many times, but this time it seemed the music, jazzy and soulful, was coming from inside her own head.  Steely Dan?  Why was she hearing Steely Dan all of a sudden?  Had she left the radio on upstairs again?

The cat gazed harder.

Janelle blinked, extended her arms and placed the cat gently back onto the desk.  Crossing her arms over her chest she felt an involuntary shiver up her spine and felt a slight chill on the hairs of the back of her neck.

Posted

Sharpie, ever vigilant had seen his Human look at her banking and realized quickly that she had noticed the unusual transaction.  Watching her troubled response he knew that he had to act quickly when his Human set him on the desk.

All cats know that Humans have one weakness, and Sharpie's Human was no exception to this.  In fact Sharpie's Human was especially susceptible to this ploy.  Stepping gently back into his Human's lap, Sharpie begins to purrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Purring gently Sharpie begins to nuzzle his Human's face.  His Human responds as she always does to this and begins to rub Sharpie's Back.

Sharpie, knowing he has his Human distracted now turns up the Purrrrr.  His Human rubs a little harder and Sharpie does as all Cats are known to do when rubbed, he stretches out and gazes in his Human's eyes, catching her attention.  Seeing His Human gazing back Sharpie knows he has her distracted and surreptitiously stretches a hind leg toward the computer mouse.  He taps the mouse with his hind foot and the bank page closes.  The Human does not notice.

Meanwhile, out on the street the Martian realizes he has lost his connection with the Cat.  He begins to fidget and pace not knowing the drama that is playing out inside the house.  But the one thing he is certain of, the Cat wants the tuna and will do almost anything to get it.  The Martian takes a deep breath and leans up against a tree.

 

 

Posted

"Well, I think it's time you had a chance to go outside and make some new disaster," she said, smiling at the purring black cat.  Sharpie looked up, closing his eyes and thrusting his jaw out as Janelle stroked him lightly, gathering him up in her arms and standing up from her computer.

Wrapping his tail around her forearm, he settled in and purred contentedly as she carried him down the hallway, the socks on her feet slippery on the polished wooden floor.  Reaching out to grasp the doorknob she felt a sudden admonition... she drew back, perplexed at the feeling that something was awry.

...out of place.

...unsafe.

Sharpie meowed loudly, startling her.  Feeling silly, she grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open, the cool spring air on her face and hands as she gently put Sharpie down and nudged the screen door open just enough to allow the cat to slip through, his tail high and inquisitive.

Posted

Suddenly hearing a door open The Martian presses against the tree he has been lurking under, all his senses on high alert.  He hears a cat meow, then the sound of a screen door opening and closing, followed by the door to the house being shut.

Suddenly he is aware of Sharpie again.  Sharpie now has only one thing on his mind:  Fresh Tuna.  Sharpie is willing to help but Sharpie wants payment up front.  But the Martian had dealt with Cats before and knows that they are not to be trusted.  Just as soon as you'd give the cat its payment, it would devour it and go off somewhere to sleep off its full stomach.  And upon awakening it will have conveniently forgot its side of the deal.

The Martian knows that this is going to be a tricky negotiation.  Sharpie is an older Cat, stubborn as a cat can be and used to getting His own way.  But the Martian has come prepared.  He double checks his pocket for the bag with the Tuna's tail.  A big enough morsel to wet the Sharpie's appetite and prove he has the rest of the fish.

The Martian sends out another thought to Sharpie.  "I'm over here under your favorite climbing tree.........."

Posted

( Freedom!  Ha!  Hahahahhaaa!! Yes!  I... am... liberated!  Now you will all know, and finally, and suffer the wrath of my... )

...Sharpie felt an itch on his behind, so he sat down hurriedly in the cool grass, thrust up his leg in the air and groomed himself for the next fourteen minutes.

Finishing up, he raised his head and wondered where he was.  The grass looked familiar, but nothing else ... oh!  The tree!  My very own favorite climbing tree!  His little kitty heart leapt in happiness at the thought of rubbing himself against its rough bark, of sinking his claws into it and giving his nails a good sharpening.  Oh, yes!  And tuna!

...wait, he balked.  Tuna?  Where did that come from?  Trees don't have tuna, he glared, feeling the hairs on his back rising.  He bared his claws, angrily... someone, or something was planting suggestions in his...

...sensing a tuft of hair out of place on his coat, Sharpie sat down and primped himself contentedly for about nine minutes.

A fishy scent, wonderfully so, caught his nose and he looked up, alert and curious.  The shadow by the tree was moving, or was it?  Sharpie felt a sudden instinct to turn and scamper away, running as fast as the pads of his feet could find surface -- but the shadow was near, and it had something... fishy.

"Mroww?", said Sharpie.

Posted

You two are having WAY too much fun with this.....

maybe we should leave you alone and give you some time to yourselves???

:matte-motes-sunglasses-3:

Posted

Watching from the shadows the Martian sighs when he sees Scampie begin to groom himself.  Knowing how fastidious cats can be about grooming the Martian thinks, "This could be a long night."  Cats are not like dogs.  A dog just jumps in the water, jumps back out, gives a quick shake and off it goes.  But then the  Martian reminds himself, cats don't smell bad like dogs do.  And cats don't have a penchant for rolling in poo like dogs do.  The Martian shudders at the thought as an image of Human children playing with dogs flashes through his mind but quickly regains his composure.  "Patience," the Martian tells himself, "Patience."

Finally seeing Sharpie finish his second grooming the Martian removes the Tuna from its wrapping.  The Martian knows that cats have one Achilles's heel and that is Tuna.  Sometimes all you have to do is think the word "Tuna" and you can wake up an entire neighborhood of cats.  Older cats sometimes figure out that their Human's will try and use Tuna to gain an advantage over them.  Sharpie has figured this out also and tries to fight the attraction.  But a cat is a cat is a cat and he succumbs, unable to resist.

The Martian moves slowly out of the shadows where Sharpie can see him, tuna in hand.  The Martian sits down in the grass and waits.  The Martian smile at Sharpie.  He knows that between curiosity and the tuna it won't be too long before Sharpie will come to him.  And the Martian really needs Sharpie's help.

Posted
1358317586_2635848721.gif

Focus!  Focus, thought Scampi..errr, Sharpie.  This one isn't like the other humans, your future servants and slaves... this one can hear your thoughts...

Tensed, his tail low and twitching, Sharpie approached the strange figure standing under the tree, making sure to stay just out of reach, a lesson he had learned from eons of cat ancestry.  Creeping ever closer, he strained his eyes to make out the shadowy apparition there, and seeing it for the first time; such a strange being it was.  Huge, expressive eyes surrounded by a black, blank face, black as the deepest space.  It wore a red space suit and a green helmet with what looked like a broom head sticking out the top, with bristles Sharpie realized he'd much like to chew on for an hour or two if given the chance.

"Mroooww?"  he began.  Realizing his foolishness, Sharpie scowled inwardly in spite of himself.  Clearing his throat, the feline sat down in the cool grass and stared at the figure beneath the tree with a new resolve.  "Let us dispense with the charaaade, shall we?  I sense that you are in need of something I might have to offer, and I also have come to the realization you are in posession of some tuna, of which a transaction I find myself also agreeable.  It is my firm belief that we may come to a mutually beneficial business arrangement.  Shall we attend to these matters, hmmm?"

And then he leaned back and waited for a reply, his whiskers twitching idly.

Posted

The Martian watches carefully as Sparkie approcahes, being careful to not make any sudden moves.  He knows that cats have a very strong flight reflex and even after they get to know you it is easily trigerred.  Cats do not trust easily.

The Martian hears Sharpie speak, "Mroooww," and then senses Sharpie's momentary inner anger at it's lapse in judgement.  Tuna can do to a cats mind what "love' can do to a human's, causing them to forget all good sense and reason. 

The Martian hears Sharpie speak again, this time getting right to the point.  This is not a good sign because it says that this cat can be easily annoyed.  The Martian knows he can't beat around the bush with this cat......cats will almost always win that game.  But he doesn't want to appear too eager to negotiate because that will give Sharpie a bargaining chip. 

The Martian begins to speak but suddenly they both hear a noise....a car coming up the street.

Posted

Sparki-Sharpie turns his head, very, very slowly in reponse to the car.  Coming down.  The street.

The street right there.  Yep, that one.

(( Wow, that car is taking forever to get here, isn't it?  What a fortuitous opportunity for someone else to jump in and add to the narrative.  ))

Posted


Janelle Darkstone wrote:

Sparki-Sharpie turns his head, very, very slowly in reponse to the car.  Coming down.  The street.

The street right there.  Yep, that one.

(( Wow, that car is taking forever to get here, isn't it?  What a fortuitous opportunity for someone else to jump in and add to the narrative.  ))

For a moment Sharpie and the Martian are on high alert ready to make themselves scarce.  But the car pulls into a driveway down the street and stops.  They hear it stop.  A car door opens and closes followed by the sound of a drunk human singing.  They both groan when they realize the human is singing 'Achy Breaky Heart.'  The Martian and Sharpie both share a thought:  They'd like nothing better than to put this human out of his misery.  They hear a house door open and close and can no longer hear the singing.  They both relax.

Gathering his thoughts back together the Martian realizes he has let go of the tuna.  He chastises himself and picks it up.  Cats are consummate thieves who will swipe any morsel of food when they catch a human not paying attention.  Of course cats don't consider it thievery. As far as they are concerned, the World belongs to them.

Sharpie sees the Martian pick up the tuna.

 

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