Mwaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!
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Mwaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!
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Well.... after an entire night of non-stop reading, I've finally caught up. And I must say, Darkmatters, you are a very good writer. I love stories with lots of symbolism and deep meaning, and I think you pulled it off very well.
Honestly though, I'm a bit disappointed that the story veered off from its original comical and confusing dreamscape. Don't get me wrong, it's great that the story is following a very clear path now and it does leave me anxiously waiting to find out what will happen next. But I just feel a little sad that a lot of the hysterical and sometimes fucked up humour has slipped away. I think what gave everyone reading this a real connection to the story was the references to DV and all of the subtle hints to various members and sections of the forum.
King Diddy has been my favourite character throughout. I love the jokes and the whole personality. Every time I'm reading one of his lines, the inner monologue sounds like a man trying to put on a high-pitched, feminine voice, which combined with the drag just makes him completely hilarious to me.
You've definitely got me hooked. Keep up the great work.
I'm honored.
Wow - you read it all in one night!! :shock:
Actually, as I saw your likes rolling in from the early chapters, it made me want to go back and revisit them, so I started from I think chapter 8 or so and read all the way to the end. Heh - so I didn't get anything new written.
But I noticed - my writing really did change. It got much stronger right around the Bleak Shore section - and now looking at the parts before that - as fun as they are - I notice that my writing was a bit spotty and rushed. I skipped over things that really should have been said. I'm sure it's because it's been so long since I've written and I was rusty - and all the constant practice day after day got me back in fine fighting spirit again.
But I know exactly what you mean. When I think back the the part that took place in the mushroom field particularly - that was so much fun!! At that point I really had little idea where it was going, I was just playing around. But as it went a story began to develop - and story is a demanding mistress. She drives you on relentlessly and must be obeyed.
I seem unable at this point to get that loose fun approach back, but at least what it gave way to is also excellent in a different way. I suspect that's true in general for the whole "down the rabbit hole" type of story - getting down there is wild and crazy and surreal and fun, but once you're there you have to find something to do or just lose all momentum. Or possibly my writing approach has just changed as I go - I am approaching this whole thing very improvisationally - each day I just sit down with whatever daydreams in mind that I've dreamed up and start laying down words to try to bring them to life - and I'm sure my approach is a little different each day.
Also, part of what you (and I) miss might be the fact that, since dragging our band through hell, I decided to break them all down, individually and as a group, and plunge them to their lowest points. Everyone is suffering, emotionally and/or physically, and the group dynamics are just about kaput at this stage. This is intentional, and it won't last. You just have to drive them through the lowest low before allowing them to break through to the high point. The Mistress demands it. So yeah, these last few chapters, while exciting, have hardly been fun!
But fun awaits in a very short time - I assure you! Not like those early chapters - I don't think I can do that now unfortunately - but amazing fun nonetheless. As well as harrowing tribulations.
*Slight Edit*
This section from near the end of the last update:
Quote:
"Good doggie!" Sera calls, then throws both handfuls of dirt simultaneously into it's array of faces, causing two of them to draw back rapidly and begin choking and shaking violently from side to side in an attempt to clear the dirt from it's eyes and mouth.
Catching on, Xey and I both throw our handfuls of dirt, disabling the final head.
"Hello??!! What's going on up there? Come on people - talk to me!" Diddy calls out in a bit of a panic.
Sera snatches several lengths of sausage from the rope slung over my shoulder and deftly inserts a few into each mouth. All 3 heads start convulsively chewing and swallowing, and Sera leads us past it close against the rugged cliff face and into a large cave opening. I glance back as Diddy is dragged past the monstrous watchdog to see him give a triumphant laugh and throw his handfuls of dirt uselessly at it. Makes me smile.
is now replaced with the following:
Just in case you care. It makes a lot more sense and flows much better.Quote:
"Good doggie!" Sera calls, then pulls off three joined sausage links and tosses them into the air over the fierce heads. All 3 heads lunge voraciously and snatch at the meat, snapping and growling at each other and fighting greedily over it.
"Now" Sera says and throws his handful of dirt directly into the slavering trio of heads. Xey and I throw ours as well, and the three monstrous heads all open their mouths wide to snatch at it, expecting more sausage but getting quite a surprise instead. Choking, sneezing, and blinded the beast writhes convulsively and makes no move to harm us as Serafiend leads us between it and the cliff wall and into a large cave opening. I glance back as Diddy is dragged past the monstrous watchdog to see him give a triumphant laugh and throw his handfuls of dirt uselessly at it. Makes me smile.
Suddenly the cave reverberates with a terrible thunderous rumble. The very floor shakes slightly with its force, and for a moment I fear it's an earthquake, but shortly it ends and the blue aardvark shifts its position slightly, causing a few coins to dislodge and slide down the side of the mound.
And I see now that it's not really an aardvark at all - it's some other kind of creature, but very similar. However I can't for the life of me understand what it is.
Once again Serafiend pulls off several sausage links in one long section. The rope is depleting rapidly now - in fact what's left is really not enough to wrap completely around anymore but just to hang over one shoulder.
"Time to get up sleepyhead!" She shouts, stepping forward quite close to the reclining animal and holding the sausage rope out as an offering to it.
It shifts again in a brief moment, twitches a bit, and there's a sound of rushing wind - several short bursts of it - for all the world in fact like sniffing, but on a massive scale.
And then it levitates 6 feet into the air.
Or rather lifts its head, for now I see that what I took to be an aardvark or similar animal is actually only the head of a much larger creature, with a long slender blue neck supporting it.
In fact the creature in the cave with us is a great blue dragon.
It gapes its jaws in a mighty yawn and its head, which really looks only slightly like an aardvark now that I see it more clearly, splits open and hinges apart to an alarming degree - keeps stretching slowly until I fear it will tear itself apart, and then two narrow slitted yellow eyes open on its sides, blink rapidly several times, and focus on us.
The head now glides toward us with unsettling rapidity and smoothness, and there's a heavy shifting from behind the mounded treasure as the body moves slightly.
With unnerving swiftness but gentle delicacy it takes the string of sausages Serafiend is offering and ingests them cleanly. Then it swings slowly around, taking a moment to look at each of us fairly closely before withdrawing back to its original position above the mound of precious metals.
"And what have you brought me little one?" it inquires in a voice silky-smooth and cultured like that of an aristocratic nobleman.
*Commentary*
Like many of the mythological references in this tale, I borrowed the title haphazardly without really knowing anything about what it means. So I just decided to look it up. I knew only that it was from Shakespeare, no idea what play or who said it, and I knew it meant "Surpassing(ly) Strange".
And here's what I found:
Quote:
Passing strange
Othello:
My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs;
She swore, in faith 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange;
'Twas pitiful. 'twas wondrous pitiful,
She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd
That heaven had made her such a man,
Othello Act 1, scene 3, 158–163
"Passing strange," a phrase currently enjoying a comeback, means "surpassingly strange"—stranger than strange. "Passing" was often used adverbially in the Renaissance, which had a keen sense of the superlative in human achievement. The passing strangeness of Othello's tales of "hair-breadth scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach" (line 136) conjures up, like tragedy, pity and fear, and also desire.
Othello, who has been accused of seducing Desdemona with drugs and charms, is explaining how he wooed her, not with narcotics, but with anecdotes [see A ROUND UNVARNISHED TALE]. Othello's romantic, exploit-filled life—especially as he poetically enhances it—does act like a sort of charm on Desdemona, who can't get enough of Othello's varnished tales. Hearing of what he calls the "dangers I had pass'd" (line 167), Desdemona utters the response Othello quotes here.
Desdemona's wish that- "heaven had made her such a man" is, though Othello doesn't notice, strangely ambiguous. Desdemona may be wishing heaven had sent her a husband just like Othello—this is Othello's reading; or perhaps she wishes that heaven had made her a swashbuckling man rather than a cloistered woman.
Desdemona sounds very close to DeMonica. :shock:
inorite! :panic:
Cue Twilight Zone music
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Ok, this is too freaking much now - seriously!! I was just upstairs randomly watching TV and settled on a bit of Boston Strangler starring Tony Curtis and Henry Fonda. Fonda had just arrested some guy (an actor) as a suspect and they were questioning him. He had traces of black makeup on his face. So Fonda asks him "Who were you playing - Othello?"
His response "I AM Othello"
Then one of the cops said "Othello strangled his wife because she was unfaithful to him."
Othello's wife was Desdemona.
Absolutely too weird that a random part of a movie I randomly decide to watch - the very part that's on during the 5 minutes I'm sitting there - is not only about Othello, but gives more information, as if some subtle agency operating in the back channel of the universe has decided to fill me in on this topic whether I want it or not.
Dianeva - don't worry! I swear, I'm not trying to woo you with my story (OR with drugs!! :shock:), nor will I attempt to make you marry me, nor will I strangle you. Irl OR in the story.
On the other hand - Othello was a black Moor, and a recent movie about him was simply called O... :shadewink:
Haha, it's cool when stuff like that happens. It's happened to me quite a few times throughout my life. Funny little coincidences just pop up out of nowhere, you laugh and then move on and forget it ever happened.
One time I was watching a documentary, and there was a part where it was talking about how Britain was formed millions of years ago with the collision of two massive continents, which then broke apart. When the adverts came on, I got up and walked into the living room and I heard the lyrics "When we collide, we come together" playing on the radio. Gave me a good laugh.
"Untie your king" Sera whispers. "Stand him up."
Xey and I quickly pull the trick knots we've used to secure Diddy, tied so that a single hard pull on each will release it instantly. He did not want to again be trapped on the sledge in case of an emergency. We hold him, swaying only slightly, between us. And to his credit, though it's his first glimpse of the tremendous beast, he does not falter or show the slightest trepidation, but stands as tall and straight as he's able.
Then Sera addresses the dragon:
"I have brought you a great king of a faraway land, who requests your masterful services. All he requires is transport, for which he'll offer more of that tasty sausage. First we must visit the naiad in her watery den below - several of our number are in need of her healing magic - and then it's on to the Hoarder in his shanty. It's on the same level, hardly a hop for your regal self. And then you can return to your cozy cave and resume your nap."
"This is wonderful sleeping weather, isn't it?" the dragon comments, another yawn distending his jaws shudderingly once again.
"Yes - wonderful sleeping weather. Now begone from my cave - it's entirely too early in the season to rouse and I was sleeping so peacefully. What care I for the petty problems of foreign kings and scabby vagabonds?"
Diddy surprises us all by stepping forward, standing tall and proud now, with no support whatsoever. Despite his bedraggled and soiled pink gown and matching elbow-length opera gloves and low-heeled pumps he summons an impressively regal demeanor.
"Sleep is so much sweeter when it's delayed for some short while, always with the knowledge that soon - soon you may slip again into slumber's deep embrace. Is this not so, good Dragon?" He seems to have picked up from Sera the proper tone for addressing this magnificent being.
The head drifts nearer, yellow eyes slitted, interested now.
"I see you're a fellow appreciator of the somatic state as well as a man of some refinement and breeding."
"Indeed."
"Then you'll understand why I simply must get right back to it. I was sooo comfortable."
"There's treasure in it for you."
That gets the dragon's undivided attention.
"Treasure?" He looks us over, scrutinizing our ragged state and our battered belongings, pausing briefly over DeMonica's armour, which he sniffs delicately.
"No gold. No silver. Now begone."
And he lays his head back down on the pile of treasure where we first saw it - his pillow - snuggling in comfortably and closing his yellow eyes.
"It's not here. It's at my Castle. And we'll require you to fly us there as well - which is the only reason I'm prepared to offer any treasure. Before these witnesses I swear to deliver unto you fully half of my treasury - which pieces entirely at your choosing, and I'll have stewards load it into sacks and tie them securely to your back."
"How much treasure are we talking?" the dragon asks, his long face now inches in front of the king's.
"Several hundred pounds easily - possibly a thousand. You might need to make several trips.. "
"BAH! One trip will suffice!! A thousand pounds is a feather to one such as I! I care not for weights and measures... but VALUE! How much is it WORTH?"
"Oh many thousands of dollars easily - possibly a hundred thousand or more, I'm not sure. If you want I can have it estimated before
"Half of your fine treasury will do - no need for counting. I can do that when I get back here. I do SO love to count."
"Good sir dragon, you'll have so much to count you'll fall asleep halfway through and have to start over afterwards!"
And with a crash of dislodged treasure the dragon steps fully forward now, revealing at last his full magnificence and sheer size.
"Climb aboard and hang on."
I just saw a commercial for Little Miss Muffin dolls. They contrasted starkly with the zombie that I instantly thought of. :D
* Author's Derp Note*
Doh! I said a ways back how glad I was to finally reach the end of chapter 15, and then I neglected to title the next chapter or even number it!! Let me get the formalities out of the way now:
16
Eri_Belle
It goes at the beginning of this here chapter here, just above.
derp
Revealed finally in all his glory the dragon is magnificent - long and slender and armored with thick translucent blue plates resembling sapphire, and in between the plates and all up the back of his long neck bristles a thick luxuriant hair or fur, also a pale ice blue. From nose to tip of tail he's probably a hundred feet long, and the wings are huge - he's not able to unfurl them in the confines of the cave though it be the size of the grand ballroom back at the Castle.
We array ourselves on his back with an eye toward protecting the weak or incapacitated from falling off, but first we lay the 2 blankets upon him - partially to absorb any blood we might spill on his splendiferous hide.
First King Diddy sits up front, right where the body tapers into the base of the slender neck, and he holds before his slim chest the sledge, because we don't want to leave it behind. He holds it sidewise by two of the cross members. Behind him we seat Muffin, who again quiets down considerably upon being seated. And I suppose the dragon then becomes a tuffin, at least temporarily. I can't really say. Then Xey takes his place behind Muffin and extends his arms past them both to grip the crossmembers of the sledge, effectively locking the three of them into a tight group hug with him as the anchor.
I then maneuver DeMonica up onto the dragon behind Xey. It's a difficult task - she's losing blood prodigiously and is on the verge of passing out - she can hardly keep her feet anymore. My heart sinks to see how pale and listless she's become, those striking ice blue eyes unfocused and half-lidded and head drooping. Finally I once again nestle myself into her strong and supple back - a place that is beginning to feel like home. It causes no end of pain - I can imagine nothing worse than continually and repeatedly subjecting excruciating and inflamed wounds to exactly the same pressures that caused them in the first place. And it gets harder each time. Plus there's a new agony added to the list now - a nearly unendurable heaviness and throbbing ache deep inside that I can only liken to heavy leaden weights hung from the loins.
I'm unable to suppress an agonized groan as I reach up around her and Xey and interlace my fingers in front of his slender chest to lock us all together into a solid group. Little Serafiend hops on behind me and stretches her little arms as far as she can up around me and gripps my belt on both sides.
And then with a rush we're off.
Unable to stretch his broad wings open inside the cave, Sleeper takes off pterodactyl style - surging forward and leaping from the ledge, plummeting some ways down into the trench filled with the raging din of the titanic giants at their incessant destruction and thunderous shouting, and then with a huge whoompf the great wings spread and catch air, begin to provide forward acceleration and then gradually upward lift.
He wheels to follow the trench for a ways - it's obvious we won't have enough height to clear the opposing wall before smashing into it - and then with a few slight downward strokes we rise powerfully and sweepingly above it and the wide vista of this entire section of the island spreads itself resplendently below us.
"Oh-Ho this is exhilarating!" Diddy leans out and cranes his neck to look back at me. I open my mouth to agree but only a pained groan escapes.
"I believe the layout might actually be a series of concentric rings, just as in Dante!" he continues, surveying the land as it sweeps past beneath us. "From this vantage I can make out a repeated curvature of each level, as if what we're seeing is just a small part of a huge circle."
We soar out over descending level after descending level - each speeding by below with surprising rapidity - what would have taken a full day for us to traverse on foot rushing past in a matter of 20 minutes. A dizzying array of unique areas unscrolls underfoot - many of them doubtless spots where more of the unendurable torments of the damned are carried out, but I resolutely refuse to look closely at any of them.
And in the space of maybe an hour Raspy_Sleeper (so named I assume due to the horrible sounds of his snoring) goes into a tight wheeling descent.
Below us now is undoubtedly the most beautiful place I've yet seen, not only here on the island of IRC, but perhaps ever. A broad gentle waterfall cascades curtainlike over the lip of an extensive formation of smoothy contoured rocks in one corner of a large glen, and spills into a broad shallow stream that meanders across the entire hollow, past a rickety leaning shanty propped up in the opposing corner. And standing in the middle of the widest part of the brook is a large ornate stone gazebo. Between the waterfall and the shanty lies a wide meadow of brilliant green grass speckled with yellow daffodils and little purple flowers of some sort.
Sleeper spirals down to a soft landing in the meadow and reposes lazily on the warm grass with the announcement that he's going to nap here until we're finished with our business, at which time we're to wake him for the next leg of the journey.
Reading about your character's groin situation is agony. Make it stop! :panic:
(Just kidding, you don't have to make it stop. But really...make it stop! lol)
Haha! inorite?!! Somehow though when I think back some of my finest and most impromptu/unexpected adventures were undertaken while suffering from some painful condition. I remember a day spent walking all over town once with a badly sprained ankle that I wouldn't trade for anything.
And I'm a little surpised you didn't call me out on my "blame it on the black guy" stratagem above:
:shock: (Sorry about that!)Quote:
On the other hand - Othello was a black Moor, and a recent movie about him was simply called O... :shadewink:
Sera leads us right up to the gently rushing waterfall, and I see there's a little path of stepping-stones leading directly into it - through it, a bit to the right of center. She calls out to a large crouching toadlike creature squatting in the shallow water above that I thought was a rock, and it plies its weight behind a large stone (which bears a striking resemblance) and slowly slides it across the flowing water, creating a wide part in the shimmering curtain-wall of the waterfall and moving it until it coincides with the stepping-stones, opening a doorway into a large hollowed space behind it.
At Sera's waved behest we file through into a spacious grotto shaped like a half-dome.
The light here all issues in through the thin wall of falling water, setting up a coruscating magical atmosphere, further heightened by the constant sound and even smell of fresh clear water - and as the impromptu doorway slides off to the side again and closes up behind us it seems we're now immersed in some magical bubble of air in a quiet and immensely beautiful underwater world.
Centered in the floor of this little grotto is a small round pool, connected to the stream flowing by just outside, surging and swirling quietly from the action of the waterfall. A group of wicker chairs are arranged in a circle surrounding the pool, in which Sera indicates we should sit.
And from the surging waters of the pool there now rises weightlessly a shimmering invisible woman.
Doh! :panic:
17
Licked
Invisible and yet immeasurably beautiful. Her outline can clearly be seen thanks to the fine mist being raised by the waterfall, which settles on her transparent skin creating the illusion that her entire gloriously nude body is encased in tiny shimmering diamonds that occasionally drip and run down her skin in little rivulets.
She floats before us, wavering gently as if there within that magical circle of the pool she's not subject to the rules governing the airy world at all, but somehow still drifting in submarine passages and water-filled corridors where gravity matters but little.
Her invisible hair is short, pixyish, and appears to be plastered to her skin as is to be expected of drenchingly wet hair. We can make out only vague hints as to her features, but the overall impression is one of boundless and serene beauty, and her very presence fills and animates the grotto with a palpable sense of wondrous sanctity. Here in her charmed presence the accursed inferno outside holds no sway - here asylum and refuge are absolute.
What a strange and wondrous joy to discover such munificence in the midst of the endless infernal horrors through which we've labored and struggled.
"This is Eri_Belle, water naiad and healer, and I believe in some way closely related to your DeMonica" Sera introduces. "For that reason I believe she might be willing to help without extracting her usual payment."
" - usual payment?" Diddy queries in a small voice. "Well never mind - perhaps we don't need to know. And madame, any help you can provide our poor straggling band is sorely appreciated - lord knows we need some help just now! DeMonica most desperately - I fear she nears death's threshold."
Wordlessly the chimerical woman drifts directly to poor DeMonica, held up in her chair between me and Xey. She has entirely lost consciousness now and her head hangs lifelessly against her breast.
Serafiend steps in, unknots and peels away the crude bandage from her uppermost thigh wound - her most life-threatening injury. The bandage is utterly soaked and sticks strongly to her skin. Immediately blood begins welling forth in alarming quantities.
Without hesitation the water sprite places her invisible hands gently on the Amazon's knees and levers them apart, brings her head in close, and begins to nuzzle and probe the wound with her mouth.
"Why is she - " I begin, turning for an answer to little Sera, but I see that she is holding the blood-dripping bandage up to her mouth and apparently sucking and chewing on it, so I immediately stop and look back, appalled.
"Her healing power must operate through an oral mechanism" king Diddy observes cooly.
Dark, your sense of comedy is striking! :lol::D When I was reading the last posts, describing Eri_Belle, I thought " Yes, the general character of a helper, alike those in so many stories... She now will put her hands on the wound and everything will be all right with DeMonica." And all of a sudden appears that "oral mechanism", which I expected the least :lol: and which was in such a profound contrast with her celestial appearance. The reader just decides to set his mind at ease after the whole violence, and Puff! he is scandalized again! I like it very, very much! :)
Thank you! I greatly value your intelligent input!