Dear Mr Curly, I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat. Yours sleepily, Vasco Pyjama xxx P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
After Kho Brain Censoring: Successful? Of course! It's going to be world-changing! We're still finalising its ultimate form and the beginning is nigh. It's research into the nature of language and possibly even the philosophy of human behaviour. Should be fascinating.
I think the only part you really censored is the first. The rest appears to simply be a mechanism that rephrases input into an extraordinary tone. This actually explains some things.
I'm willing to wager that you did your all to make that sound as incomprehensible as possible xPP Or, even better, you tried very hard to bring it down to our level and speak in the language of the uninitiated-into-the-wonders-of-the-scientific-world-of-Hogwarts muggle-plebs. ...
I'll help you out.
He's setting up these special Russian rocks, right? These rocks act as a jungle-gym for tiny magical pixies. What you can do is shoot pixies through a tube onto these special rocks such that the pattern they make when they splatter at the other side of the rock paints a pretty picture of what the jungle-gym looks like reeeealy up close. This is likely to help with more magical pixie-taming techniques, because these are very special Russian rocks.
That's how I've interpreted it, though I am sure there are one or two technicalities.
My project this summer is on preparing perovskites, a type of semiconductor mineral, for analysis under electron microscopy.
In my avatar, you will see a screenshot from a project I did last summer, which was using computational fluid dynamics simulations to model the merging of two neutron stars.
Your avatar is that? That's so cool! I had thought it was that project that was on the news a while ago about something similar but with black holes or something. Although, it could have been your project, I can't remember clearly. Either way, nice job.
When you get them, show us the snaps of your next project if you can. I love electron microscope pictures.
Sabine flicked up her eyes at the mention that the knowledge of the antidote was not in Apocrypha. She did not speak, being too embarrassed by her previous panic to mention anything. However, it was disappointing that their biggest possible gain from sifting through such knowledge was not to be.
Gallus had a more silver-lined view of the situation. "I am glad that it worked out as well as you say. If you hadn't come back...or came back worse off, we would be in a tricky position." He unfolded his arms. "It was nice of the prince to give you power on the promise of the antidote, even if we haven't worked it out yet. Regardless, what knowledge was...planted in, as you say?"
This is going to be the start of a bit of a series. Toun's keeping close watch on this particular situation, so if you want to put your grubby hands over it, expect a visit from him.
Anyway, I said that this post was going slowly, I think I just started it when I was really tired. I had to rewrite it a bunch.
Expect returns to Conata, Toun, M&M, and the like before this arc gets updated.
This post follows the opening chapter of the story of Edda, Toun's little seeker du jour. Most of the post is told as a recount from Edda's perspective, both for brevity and so I'm not too occupied with a prologue to this whole arc.
Edda is a hain chipper woman who escaped Xerxes before the murder-fuckening with a bunch of friends (including a sculptor hitchhiker named Caress) and tried to sail around the white ocean in search for a new home.
During the voyage, they pass by a coastal acalya outbreak and all get Logosbestosis.
Most of them die, but Edda prays as a last resort. Toun answers.
Toun enters Edda's consciousness and gives her a mission to find a chosen hain and find a promised place called Yorum, where her and other hain may be essentially forgiven by Toun. It's a bit dense, you might want to read the whole paragraph.
Edda wakes up to find that the boat and everyone on it have been transported clear of the acalya and near a town. Everyone has had the acalya completely taken out of their systems and their bodies reverted back to normal. Everyone who had died in the meantime had not woken up.
Edda, in the meantime, moults her shell and reveals that her mission had been inscribed on her new shell with Tounic calligraphy.
On the beach of this new town, a local hain patrol comes to greet them with the lead warrior speaking to Edda. The sculptor translates.
The recount meets the present. The warrior says they're welcome if the white giants don't kill them. He also mentions that the blinding purge has destabilised the region just a teensy bit.
He invites Edda to meet the local king.
"My name is Edda. I am a chipper and these are my friends. We mean you no harm.
"We have been travelling for some time now. We counted the days. Sixty-three days at sea.
"Yes, it was horrible. Our friends and family died around us where there was not enough to eat. Others died from sickness, pus-filled wounds, and the like. None of us complained because turning back to Xerxes was worse. We could not go back after the Énas returned.
"Before, when the army of the heavens stormed the city to take the Énas away, the Blowfly began cleaning removing the people who hoarded selfishly and harmed others. With her in control, we were united and orderly. We were building something better together. Though the responsibility to my family meant that I had not travelled for some time, my days as a chipper had granted me wisdom enough to know that Xerxes was headed somewhere great. It was unlike anything the world had seen.
"Of course, the Énas returned before we could reach true prosperity. The Blowfly did not have the power to oppose him, the Énas both being sired by gods and flanked by a new army. We escaped in the dead of night before he could destroy everything.
"It was risky. We got together our closest friends and their families and pooled coins for food. Tokgos, one of the trolls that arrived with us, he owns the cog we sailed in with. He used it for trading before now.
"We sailed away from a scream on the docks, followed by a riot. A goblin servant of Tokgos flew into some kind of rage and tried to kill us on board. The goblin was not the angry type, but he simply screamed and struck at us. We were all terrified that we would be similarly afflicted. Thankfully, we must have escaped in time. The city burned on the horizon that night, but none of us went mad. We had to throw the goblin overboard, the poor soul.
"The next matter was which direction we would go. South was full of territorial Rovaick and the unending stroke of Teknall's hammer. There was no viable land there. East was open ocean. None returned from there seeing anything more than waves. We were to head north, skirting the coast.
"No one followed us. It was peaceful, even optimistic. We sailed and rowed every day for weeks on a prevailing wind to get far enough away from the Énas’ reach. True trouble started when we saw huge pale crystals covering the coast. No one knew what they were, but they had a deathly humour when we neared them. Everyone began coughing up blood. We tried to sail past as fast as we could, but there were only more of the crystals. After a day, we stopped coughing and our bodies began to change.
"We could scratch and peel it off at first, the little grains of sand that were growing on our skin and shells. They kept growing. They…they covered us, transforming us. We would have panicked, but we all became lethargic. We were about to accept our deaths. However, seeing my family succumb, seeing all my friends about to die, I tried to weep, but I could not. Everything built up.
"Without any outlet, I beseeched the gods. I closed my eyes and pleaded. 'Please, gods of Galbar! Teknall, the great mason! Illunabar, the dream matron!' I called out the names of all the gods I knew of to be kind. None answered initially. I became desperate and named the rest. 'Mammon, the demon below! Please help us! Toun, the porcelain creator! Forgive our imperfections and help us find a new life!'
"It was that last prayer that I uttered. That did it. I fainted from the crystals constricting my lungs and had this dream. It was like I was floating in a sun. It was so white and bright. I could feel a godly presence all around me and there was no presence like it. It was Toun himself; the clay devil that created and forsook all hain in the beginning.
"He did not speak my language to me. He instead presented a sequence of symbols that looked roughly like southern Rovaick writing, but...purer. Even only having a passing knowledge of the writing, I knew exactly what it read as.
"'This is my command to my chosen hain. By the ascent to perfection, render onto those cast out servants a new paradise. The promised goal of Yorum; the grand walls on the north-east corner from the moat of Cornerstone shall house countless hain to better themselves. Building these walls shall not be gods, but the hain who ascend to their ambition. Let them be free of the brutes of mal-nature. Let them become greater than the meddling that scarred suffering into this world. You, chosen hain, have been born with an eye for battle and war, an eye for inspiring your fellow hain, an eye for leadership, and an eye for the gods. Around you are tools to see Yorum grow from the ground. Redeem your people and your flaws shall be lifted. Rise up and hold the world with no fear. Your creator demands your purpose fulfilled. This shall be made perfect.'
"I floated, confused at the concepts flung into me. I may have been a chipper with plenty of knowledge about other things, but I wasn’t a war leader. I had little knowledge of battle or leadership, and I was no particular scholar of the gods. I felt as if I was not the chosen one that Toun addressed. I spoke as much to Toun, not seeing myself worthy.
"There was...disdain from the god, only for a moment. Perhaps I had misinterpreted? Or disappointed him? I cannot know. His answer was simple.
"'Go to Yorum. Search. Find. Build.'
"I woke up. I heard the ocean again, I was still on the ship. I looked to my body and found no trace of the crystal. Those around me awoke in turn, just as healthy. Well...most of them. Some lay dead. Free from the crystal, but dead. Too late to save. My last partner and my last child were among them."
She raised a hand, covered in red markings. "Please, it has been long enough for me to grieve. Let me continue.
"We found ourselves on the coast as we were before, but no crystals were visible. We had sailed past them. Far past them. I believe Toun had brought us out of that hell so we could serve his will. A fair trade for the likes of us, I suppose.
"We kept sailing. Our food ran out and the fish and coastal foraging were not enough to sustain us. We had been dying, one by one, mostly from getting sick or needing food. We landed here as this was the first settlement that we spotted. It is bigger than I expected. Not as big as Xerxes, but it appears prosperous here. What is this place?"
A wave broke on the beach to apparently end the chipper woman's recount. The hain warrior in front of her nervously ran one hand over his stone club while the sculptor sitting between them translated.
"Caress, that is what you said your name was, Jaanic thing?" The warrior confirmed. "Tell Edda this. This home of ours is named Loralom, and if the giants do not take her friends, they are welcome. Jaanics are not permitted in the town. As well, tell her that Yorum is the name of this entire realm, from the coast to the jungle in the north-east. There are many towns like this. I am afraid there are many, many more hain as well. Your mission will not be easy if you wish to find just one." The warrior shifted in place. "Those markings on your shell. They are the symbols you saw, aren't they?"
The chipper woman was tall enough without her straight posture to sit taller than the warrior, but not the sculptor. She sat cross-legged and straight-backed with her hands on her knees. She offered a nod once Caress had forwarded the warrior's words, though the bright red glyphs that covered her entire shell made the question almost rhetorical. Even seeing a few of them offered a glimpse into the hope and purpose that her previous words had conveyed. To a hain, they were the opposite of a second hatching -- beautiful and comforting.
"They are," Edda answered. "I moulted before we arrived and they were on my new shell. We originally set out to find a new home, to build what Xerxes could have been, I will also find this chosen hain. I believe he or she will be the key to making this all possible." Edda ended her statuesque demeanour with a small shrug. "Besides, surely there are only a few in this land that fit the description given to me."
After Caress translated, the warrior chuckled with a strain, raising his beak. "You have a lot more hope than you are letting on, but you will find little enough hope amongst us." His voice lowered into a grave drone. "You say we look prosperous, bah! The reality is that this is all recent rebuilding. Slow and with reused bricks and columns. Warlords rule these parts, knocking it down where they can. The blinding purge wiped out any small peace that we had. And now? This scorched land is now littered with cracked shells from the fighting."
Another wave broke on the wide, flat beach. An emaciated group behind Edda stood silent. It was made up of three trolls and two goblins, all of which had three red symbols on their hands; five humans; and seven hain, one of whom clutched two eggs closely to her chest. They went from tense to nervous while Caress translated.
Edda cut through without hesitation. "Then we must all do better."
The warrior paused again. His palm slowly turned upwards. "You had best meet our king. You two will like each other, I think."
Sabine had stood up and followed Meesei out of the tent. With the way Meesei was calmly explaining everything, Sabine began to flush with shame that she might have raised something of a false alarm. "You were covered with those slimy arms," she began, looking down and clasping her hands together tightly. "Then I could see through you, and when I tried to touch you, my hand went through you. You were not answering me. I was frightened. You did not say you were going to try right there and I was frightened."
"It was only for a few minutes," Janius added. He did not look sure about being relieved. "But, have you been carrying that book around all this time, alpha?"
"I think that kind of scrutiny can come later," Gallus interrupted. "Meesei, what exactly happened in there? Why did you open the book, and what did Mora say to you?"
Wow. Successful human beings. A rare breed indeed T-T am jealous, I want a research scholarship. I just want to research in general. For Divinus posts.
But good on you two! Let us know how it goes! What'll you be researching?
(Hazarding a guess here, but BBeast will probably be researching the linguistic miracles of elvish).
Successful? Hah! It's just a six week project. Nothing world-changing.
The project is still being tweaked and will begin in a couple of weeks. It's computer science research into natural language processing and/or possibly human behaviour. It should be interesting.
Janius ended up trying the same things as Sabine before realising that there was nothing they could do. He brought his hands up to his hair and let out a flustered breath.
Gallus had his arms crossed and his brow knitted. "What do we do? Is this permanent?"
After some false starts talking, Janius gestured an open palm to Sabine. "Sabine, you know more about this than we do."
"I..." Sabine was still looking at Meesei's ghostly figure, utterly distraught. She shook her head. "No. I do not know what to do."
The discussion of possibilities remained at a shallow and confused level for the entire time that Meesei was in Apocrypha. Gallus began to pace, Sabine had sat down and had her face buried in her knees, and Janius kept making small suggestions that would never work. They were discussing the possibility of running to find Ahnasha and Fendros by the time Meesei returned.
Everyone looked up to Meesei with surprise when she spoke.
Sabine had remained seated as Meesei opened the book. She flinched, expecting a similar effect to the first time it was opened. When nothing seemed to happen and Meesei cut off her speech, Sabine had not realised what had happened immediately.
"With all the risk, are you sure you want to try now?"
Meesei did not so much as look at her. A hint of fear crept up Sabine's neck.
"Meesei?" Sabine lifted herself to her knees and then to her feet. "Meesei, are you okay-" Sabine's eyes bulged when her hand passed right through Meesei's arm. In a panic, Sabine reached for Meesei's face and only felt air.
"Meesei!" Sabine snatched at the book to try and throw it away. There seemed to be nothing she could grab anymore.
If Sabine's shout had not already grabbed their attention, her teary face appearing as she ran to the others in camp certainly did. Janius and Gallus stood up, as did Gallus' guide, Cuts-Canes-Faster.
"What has happened?!" Janius asked.
Sabine found a gap in her panicked sobbing to respond. "Meesei, she...the book. She opened the book!"
[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPjJCVylFBo[/youtube][/center]
[quote=Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.]
Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all [u]nothings[/u] lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that [u]I[/u] am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
[/quote]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><iframe src="//youtube.com/embed/HPjJCVylFBo?theme=dark" frameborder="0" width="496" height="279" allowfullscreen></iframe></div><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">Dear Mr Curly,<br>I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all <span class="bb-u">nothings</span> lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that <span class="bb-u">I</span> am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.<br>Yours sleepily,<br>	Vasco Pyjama<br>	xxx<br>P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!<footer>Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.</footer></blockquote></div>
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