Yeah. Devices go with everything. ^^Never been much of a hat person, though. I know- the irony. Besides, trying to get the modern me into a trilby or a fedora would have me worried about growing a neckbeard.
Good. ^^ That was the goal.Food for thought, BA- have you noticed how Mal never refers his user (well, me specifically) with an honorific, when Mid-style devices (and some Belkan ones) invariably do?
***********
We appeared in the back of a tent- an honest-to-goodness marquee tent, at least twenty feet wide and I-don't-even-know-how-long. The majority of the tent was full of- of all things- wooden crates, blocking the other end (and presumably the exit) from view.
My survey of the area (I'd just gotten to the wall of the tent, which was apparently some sort of polymer that looked almost like canvas, held up by metal poles) was interrupted by Cinque, who took my hand and began to drag me out of the tent.
Hey! I can see the exit just fine- no need to drag me by the han- wait, why're her hands so soft?
We rounded the corner, and began to maneuver back and forth around even more crates. I could see light from here, but not the exit itself.Cinque fights, same as me. Sure, she doesn't go hand-to-hand as a matter of habit, but I'd still expect her to have some callus.... es...
We finally reached the exit, and I got my first look at what was outside the tent. It looked like a fairly normal, Mid-like (and Earth-like, for that matter) world- green grass, blue sky (though a bit more blue than I expected), and fluffy white clouds. There was a small hill nearby, topped with a single tree (maddeningly similar to the maple tree outside my old house); Cinque dragged me up to the top of it, before letting go of my arm.
As I massaged my arm, trying to work a bit of feeling back into it, I idly took a look around the area, trying to get my bearings....what the crap? This can't be what it looks like.
The tent we just exited was one of a dozen or so similar tents I could see, pitched in a line on the bare grass. They were placed directly behind a bewildering array of stands, carts, and larger tents, which were themselves facing a wide aisle of sorts. I couldn't see what they were for, being behind them, and all, but I could see their counterparts on the other side of the aisle just fine....food carts, games, shows... signs pitching events and rides...? Where did Cinque find a genuine carnival? More to the point... "How is this possible?"
Cinque looked over at me- then stared, intently, at my face. "This place- this event- is familiar to you... but you're confused by it." She thought for a bit... then smiled. "Your people have traveling fairs as well, then?"
I sighed. "Exactly like this, Cinque- though we usually call them 'carnivals'."
That just made the smile get wider. "Then you're familiar with what one does at such an event?"Why do I have a feeling of dread creeping up my spine? "Somewhat, yes. Enough for us to get by." I forced a smile. "The rest we'll have to learn as we go."
I got a nod in response. "Yes. All of it."
And then we were running down the hill, Cinque once again pulling me along by one arm.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Good. ^^ That was the goal.Food for thought, BA- have you noticed how Mal never refers his user (well, me specifically) with an honorific, when Mid-style devices (and some Belkan ones) invariably do?
***********
We appeared in the back of a tent- an honest-to-goodness marquee tent, at least twenty feet wide and I-don't-even-know-how-long. The majority of the tent was full of- of all things- wooden crates, blocking the other end (and presumably the exit) from view.
My survey of the area (I'd just gotten to the wall of the tent, which was apparently some sort of polymer that looked almost like canvas, held up by metal poles) was interrupted by Cinque, who took my hand and began to drag me out of the tent.
Hey! I can see the exit just fine- no need to drag me by the han- wait, why're her hands so soft?
We rounded the corner, and began to maneuver back and forth around even more crates. I could see light from here, but not the exit itself.Cinque fights, same as me. Sure, she doesn't go hand-to-hand as a matter of habit, but I'd still expect her to have some callus.... es...
We finally reached the exit, and I got my first look at what was outside the tent. It looked like a fairly normal, Mid-like (and Earth-like, for that matter) world- green grass, blue sky (though a bit more blue than I expected), and fluffy white clouds. There was a small hill nearby, topped with a single tree (maddeningly similar to the maple tree outside my old house); Cinque dragged me up to the top of it, before letting go of my arm.
As I massaged my arm, trying to work a bit of feeling back into it, I idly took a look around the area, trying to get my bearings....what the crap? This can't be what it looks like.
The tent we just exited was one of a dozen or so similar tents I could see, pitched in a line on the bare grass. They were placed directly behind a bewildering array of stands, carts, and larger tents, which were themselves facing a wide aisle of sorts. I couldn't see what they were for, being behind them, and all, but I could see their counterparts on the other side of the aisle just fine....food carts, games, shows... signs pitching events and rides...? Where did Cinque find a genuine carnival? More to the point... "How is this possible?"
Cinque looked over at me- then stared, intently, at my face. "This place- this event- is familiar to you... but you're confused by it." She thought for a bit... then smiled. "Your people have traveling fairs as well, then?"
I sighed. "Exactly like this, Cinque- though we usually call them 'carnivals'."
That just made the smile get wider. "Then you're familiar with what one does at such an event?"Why do I have a feeling of dread creeping up my spine? "Somewhat, yes. Enough for us to get by." I forced a smile. "The rest we'll have to learn as we go."
I got a nod in response. "Yes. All of it."
And then we were running down the hill, Cinque once again pulling me along by one arm.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.