Katzaniel

Young Cat crawled along the ground behind Red Bull, who was looking discreetly over the ridge at intervals. She wanted to do the same, but he had chided her earlier for that, explaining that she might get them seen because she didn't know how to do it right, and that that knowledge required experience. So Young Cat contented herself with crawling, even though in reality it was more like the gait of a cat with broken knees than the sleek prowl she imagined, and which Red Bull was practising so well just in front of her. The little girl was sad, since she was leaving the Indians for good, and they had treated her kindly. But she was excited, too, for they told her she had grown up much and could look after herself now, but that she'd do it safest among the white people. Indians weren't well respected, they had told her, and said she shouldn't mention that they'd been looking after her or the white people might take it into their heads to track them down and kill them for it. So, little white girl, taken into the care of Indians at a very young age when her parents had died, grown up to the ripe old age of 12, and being brought to find a home with some white people, change her name to simply Cat, because they told her she'd be safer. White people didn't sound safer, but that's where Red Bull, her teacher of many years, was taking her. And she trusted him. "See caravan on horizon." He said it in English for her sake, though he'd never quite caught the hang of its fine points. Young Cat had grown up with that sort of speech, though, and wasn't much better. Red Bull pointed to show her. She popped her head over the ridge to look. "It coming this way. One moon, sometime next day that caravan pass by. You wait here, make sure you move some if it does, but you meet it. If it not come, you still wait here and we find you again when it safe. Else meet it. You be better there." "Why better there?" pleaded Young Cat again. "They no hurt you for being with white people. You go, Young... me meant, go Cat." "Tell me now how my parents died." Red Bull looked Cat directly into her eyes. "You no need to know that. Go now," and he hugged her to say goodbye. Edit: minor spelling

Been thinking again. Name isn't Kara (too modern) but none of you need to know it - she goes by Cat, short for Young Cat, the name she went by with the Natives. She didn't run away, or it wouldn't make sense that she didn't go back later. So: Her town had a couple of Indians living in it. (This could have happened, right?) Most people didn't have much to do with them, and either did she. One night some radical white people attacked the town for harbouring Indians and her parents ended up dying. She ran away then. Does this sound possible/probable? I don't watch many westerns so I'm going to need help with a lot of points when we get started. Oh, and Gnarlitch: If you're hoping for Deg to show up, why not wait until after Wyv's show tonight? Deg usually comes online during that, I'll ask him if he plans to join. And we often see Ozy then too.

I just wanted to add, now that I can, that I loved your "going mad" scenes, Foolish. They were really fun to read. Also - and I figure you for the seer - can I ask who you Saw each night? I just like to know.

Whew, I thought you'd opted to start without me. I haven't had my appointment yet but I'm feeling *much* better this morning, so I'll post a character here but I won't post in the actual thread yet, just in case. Not that it matters now, but I'm curious: in the Mutiny idea, since the baner was the protector of the seer, would s/he know who that was? I'd like to play a kid but I dislike being restricted in my votes when by a character who isn't very smart, so I'm going to be a young girl, Kara, who ran away from home very young and has been living with the Indians, who know very well that for her own safety this white girl should stay away from them. So when your caravan was spotted from a ways away, she was escorted there discreetly by Red Bull and said farewell to them. She's about 11 or 12 but living in a not so cushy setting has given her a wide view of the world and she's very observant. However she may not be smart enough to not mention to people that "Hey, Indians are nice!" Probably this evening I'll post something where I wander up to your group.

I've been pretty sick for the last couple of days, not the least of my symptoms being sore eyes, plus having two midterms tomorrow so I shouldn't be on even now. I'd like to play (I made a vote for mutiny, but I'd do west too) but if you guys want to start before friday I'd better not sign up. Friday afternoon I have a doctor's appointment and I'll be better able to tell whether I'm improving, so Friday evening I'll make a quick appearance to say whether or not I'm in, okay? If you want to start before then, it's okay with me as I probably shouldn't be getting involved anyway.

"Well, I have little reason to doubt what you say, and less reason to simply ignore your request. You seem to know my personality well enough, so I may not need to say this, but I will anyway. I will embark on this journey for you, Miss Isabella, but I will make no guarantee. I intend to find out for myself whether this Trey is indeed evil and deserves to die. If, and only if, I find your words to be true enough for my liking, then you can depend on me to do all I can to right it." Isabella nodded. "Indeed, I expected you to react in this way. Let me just add this statement: Find the evidence you need as quickly as you can. If Trey finds out that we have sent you after him, he may alter time to get his way. Be careful!" "So be it." Inbi backed up into the tunnel again, watching the old woman despite all she had said. When she reached the point where the eyes in her bag and the eyes on the floor of the room no longer breached the space between herself and the other lady, when the passageway once more was solid in front of her, Inbi finally turned around and faced the way she was walking. She wanted to believe what the woman said, and wished there had been some sort of proof. Nevertheless, the first thing to do was find the man of whom Isabella had spoken. With that discovery would come knowledge. Finding her way back into the kitchens, Inbi filled her bag with what she could. Then she descended again into the underground maze and made her way through it. The young woman solved the maze this time in much less time, following only the paths she had already taken and relying on memory to keep her most of the time away from wrong turns. By the time she reached the entrance, though, the sun was setting and she decided to camp there, in the same place where all of this had, for her, begun.

What if most of what we want boils down to making others happy? What then, Vlad? I think that you're right in saying we need to better ourselves, but I think you're wrong when you say that some people are just "better than others." We all have different pros and cons (although I'd make a different point than talking about ugly/pretty and dumb/smart, I'd say we all have different intelligences and are beautiful from different perspectives, in general, but this is another whole conversation) and some may be better for survival, but we don't need to worry about survival so much any more. Now we worry about creating beauty and discovering our world, among other things, and all different intelligences have a place. And among it all, isn't being happy the most important thing? Because if we can't be happy, and make others happy, then there's no point in this life or the afterlife respectively. Note: Threads are made to be highjacked. But, I don't think that's what we're doing. We're looking into different parts of balance, aren't we?

"Timmy, why do you mistrust Zach so much? Terri and I both loved him.. I'm sure we know him well enough by now to know that he's not guilty. He couldn't do anything like that. Come on Timmy, make your vote count. Help me avenge your sister, please." Kerri turns to Zach and her voice becomes even more pleading. "And you, I know that if you change your vote from Heinrich you're risking yourself, but can't you see how Jamia's been manipulating us to the wrong people this whole time? Even if you can't vote for her, vote for someone other than who she's telling us. I'll even change my vote to support you if you do." Kerri runs up and throws her arm around him.

Kerri looked fiercely at Jamia, as best as she was able anyway. "Logic. Insipid. Fat lot of good it's done us so far. I just don't trust you any more. And I think you killed my sister."

"Oh no!" Kerri wailed, "Now Heinrich is dead too!" Slight pause. "I bet Jamia killed him. She's been trying to mislead us this whole time."

Oh. Um. Well, you made sense. I guess I didn't. I guess I understood it fine the first time, but somehow this time I had trouble with it. The way I remembered it, apparently improperly, was that the italics stayed with one speaker the whole time. The shift was then more in the reader's head than a literal shift in viewpoint. But given that it was never actually written that way, I can't really say what my muddled head was thinking. Maybe I thought the first time that it would be better that way and never mentioned it, then remembered wrong as a result, or maybe this time I was confused and the explanation my brain gave me was that it couldn't be my fault, you must have changed something. *shrug* Sorry. It worked fine the first time, it must still work, right?

I'm not sure what happened to the original version of this poem, Appy, but one thing bothered me about this different incarnation. I liked it better before when your italics followed the one speaker, even when the tone changed. This way it is slightly confusing and that detracts from the rest of it, which I really enjoyed.

Inbi wasn't sure what she suspected. Some archmage, perhaps. Certainly not the sad-looking elderly woman who now faced her. In the back of her mind the young thief remained prepared for a stronger ally than appearances made out, but part of her unconsciously slipped at the sight. This woman had made all this magic? There could also be others, she reminded herself, but the idea seemed wrong. "You are Inbi Infusco." said the woman, and Inbi's inner defenses shot up past full alert. "I am," she said anyway, at a loss for any ability to deny it. The old woman sighed in relief. She guestured at a chair in the room, and sat down herself. There was a table between them, and the room was decorated in light purple, with painted flowers crawling along the wall just below eye level and little white dots completing the mood. This shimmered as usual but every incarnation of the room, and the very air around her, breathed relaxation. Inbi sat down, but remained tense. "If I know you at all, dear Inbi, you're keeping yourself ready to attack at any moment. I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise, but it will be easier if you try to understand that I'm not going to hurt you." The information was getting easier to believe by the minute, since no harm had come to her yet, but Inbi stored the statement in her head without acting on it in any way. "What is your purpose then? What is your strange magic?" The woman laughed, and it sounded like water dancing. "I can't tell you too much, but I'll do what I can. First, call me Isabella. That isn't my name but it will do. Second, the magic you are referring to is the ability to alter time. This is a dangerous affair but necessary to prevent worse. There is a man from our time-era who has stepped into yours, and he is playing dangerous games with time. He grew the hedge maze to prevent anyone from reaching this house, he's grown plants all over the place for different reasons. I'm not sure what his plans are exactly but they aren't good. My purpose is to stop him. I recognized you as a possible source of help to us, given your magic, your fighting abilties, your morals, and the fact that this maze would encourage rather than deter you. So, we took the liberty of transferring you here and giving you those newt eyes, which help you to see into multiple time-eras at once, and as such let you communicate with me." Inbi was taken back by the slew of information, but it did explain a few things. Still, she knew that the best lies were laced with truth, and she believed this Isabella with the intention of disbelieving her at whatever point the facts began to point elsewhere. No point in assuming lies from the beginning, but no point in letting the truth obscure any possible lies either. "How can I help?" "By tracking down this man, whom we call Trey, and killing him. We can help you in little ways, but we cannot kill him when he is not in his own time-era, and we want to alter history as little as possible. Even by contacting you we are suffering major repercussions. When you leave this house, we will replace your items back in your bag, with the addition of a pouch of newt-eyes and a flat rock with a dent that, when thrown into the air, will always land facing toward Trey." OOC: Getting late. Not a great place to stop, but not too bad either.

It's a full length mirror Standing in front of me But it's taller And shorter And the hair is all wrong. She's a full length mirror Looking into my soul She's herself But she's me And we're parts of each other. I'm a full length mirror Of each of my friends I'm one shade They are others Together we form every hue. We're full length mirrors That stranger and I Just one part Of two people But it matches perfectly.

Kerri just sits huddled in the corner, shaking.

OOC: Tamaranis and Tanuchan are both busy right now, and that's fine, I'm in no rush. But I don't want the rest of you to get bored, so while they're working on meeting, why don't Finnius and ntraveler also meet? Vlad has also expressed interest in this (yay, always more people welcome) so I'll leave it at that for now. Inbi can keep on on her own for a while longer. Once we get four groups going it will be easier to work in any new players that still want to join.

The basic idea is that characters have to speak in song/rhyme as much as possible. I guess this is a mixture between multi-authored storytelling and poetry, but I figure it fits better in the Banquet room than here, so there's a link at the bottom. Anyone is welcome! To give the idea some direction... (stealing this from multiple bad movies) A group of diverse people are visiting for this rich guy's 60th birthday party. I'll play both him and the maid, because partway in (after everyone is introduced) he gets murdered, and the maid can control things somewhat. Of course, no one can escape from the house (all of the vehicles have been sabotaged, we're in the middle of nowhere, and all characters are afraid of walking ) I strongly encourage you to plan on one of the following: affair with another character sworn revenge on another character blackmailing another character long lost relative of another character anything else you can think of You may PM each other to set up any "intrigue" that both parties would know about, or send it through me. I ask that you CC me with anything. ex) You and I dated fifteen years ago, or (to me) Tell X that she ran over someone while drunk driving when she was 16, because that's going to be my sister. After all this is set up, and everyone knows whatever they need to know about their character, I'll decide who murdered the man and PM you your alibis (or have a brief discussion with you to decide on it). Then we try to unravel it all. The maid is a possible suspect. In the meantime, I've made an intro post (you can skip the very first post, before the intro post, it says the same things this post does) and you can introduce your character. Remember: Speak in rhyme when you can! This is a musical. Important note: For those not used to posting in the banquet room... you will get an "email" error when posting, but your post has been made, don't repost. Link to the Musical in the Banquet Room

Kerri ran into her room and looked around frantically. Nothing. She ran back out just as Aiden was following her in. "Wait!" he called, but she didn't. She tore down the hallways until she came to a room with a red cross on the door. Even her limited brainpower recognized this as a medical room, and that it must have pills. She went in, locking the door behind her. She ruffled through the bottles in the only unlocked cupboard. "Let me in," came Aiden's voice beyond the shaking of the doorhandle. "Kerri." Zach's voice was soft and pained. Aiden must have brought him. "No!" she said, letting emotion take control of her vocal cords. "I hate you all, I hate myself, my sister's dead and I don't know who did it. I'm not strong like you guys. I can't live without her." They pleaded, and they tried to knock down the door. Kerri knew she had to hurry. She found some sleeping pills nestled near the back. Only 14 left in the bottom of it, but she swallowed them down. Hazily she found her way to the cot in the corner and let herself down on it. After a little while, everything went black. When Kerri came to, she was lying with her head in Zach's lap. Aiden was sitting at her feet, Timmy next to him, and the little room was holding Jami, Dirk, Heinrich, Greggor and Tom as well, all looking concernedly down at her. "Terri came to me," she says weakly, the blackness still zooming in and out of her vision. "She told me that there's one more and she trusts me to find it. I want to die, but I have to avenge her first." Nestling her head in Zach's lap, she continues. "Terri also said to take care of you, Zach. We have to help each other to live without her." Kerri falls asleep again, but this time it is obvious to everyone that it is just sleep. Most of them leave the room.

Shanna was incredibly happy that the man was going to let her come. She would have to do everything she could to make that decision the right one. She nodded curtly and practically ran back to the bar, her green eyes sparkling with joy. She nodded, smiling, to the other barmaid, and whispered, "But not until after they've eaten." "I'll cover for you for the rest of today, but by tomorrow they'll have to be told you're gone for good." "Thank you. You are truly a good friend." They both went back to work after that, and Shanna reflected on the two or three people she would miss. Mostly people she worked with here, as she had grown up with just a mother, no siblings even, and her mother had died about two years ago. Nothing in Eelix to hold her back. She wished she'd left long ago. As Shanna was serving a table across the room from the two travellers, the door flew open. She shrieked and hid behind a table. What was going on? Then she realized that she wasn't looking too useful by doing that. She didn't want them to change their minds about her. Standing, Shanna faced the door. "Who is it?" she said more bravely than she felt. That's when she noticed the uncharacteristic wind and thunderstorm. If this was even a person at all, it was no normal person. Shanna backed up against the wall, too scared to speak again. Edit: Was interupted.. had to edit to add the last paragraph.

"Not a wolf then." breaths Kerri. "Aiden. You're strong. Help me. Help me kill myself now."

Charles Buckerby looked out his front window. Martha, the maid, stood nearby with a tray of meats and cheeses, but he wasn't very hungry. Charles: Martha, 60 I will soon be turning My mind is full of tumult, churning I'm getting old, yet I feel alone I miss the friends I made when young. Martha: Am I not company enough? You're plenty strong, you're very tough Why do you suddenly feel the need To be surrounded with others greed? Charles: I know that many of my friends Were jealous of my meagre ends But surely they'd get over that Not bicker when I drop my hat. Martha: Meagre? Ha! You're very rich. They'd all come to scratch your itch. But only if they felt your will Might all their many dreams fulfill. Charles: Perhaps you're right, you always are But still I need my friends from far I'm getting old and soon will die I'll bring them here if I have to lie. Charles goes to the table and starts to write. Charles: I know that I can bring them here, If just to see them once again Don't they know I hold them dear? I'll tell them that I'll make a change. My will is theirs if they can prove That they know and understand me If they can show that they are true Then they can leave with glee. I may not do it, Martha But I'll tell them that's my aim I'm old, I should be a grandpa I need to see my friends again. He writes a letter to each of his friends and a few relatives, claiming that if they come for his sixtieth birthday party he might make a change and add them to his will. A month passes, and his offer begins to pay off. Soon, the first guest arrives.

The basic idea is that characters have to speak in song/rhyme as much as possible. I guess this is a mixture between multi-authored storytelling and poetry, but I figure it fits better in this room than the conservatory. Anyone welcome though! To give the idea some direction... (stealing this from multiple bad movies) A group of diverse people are visiting for this rich guy's 60th birthday party. I'll play both him and the maid, because partway in (after everyone is introduced) he gets murdered, and the maid can control things somewhat. Of course, no one can escape from the house (all of the vehicles have been sabotaged, we're in the middle of nowhere, and all characters are afraid of walking ) I strongly encourage you to plan on one of the following: affair with another character sworn revenge on another character blackmailing another character long lost relative of another character anything else you can think of You may PM each other to set up any "intrigue" that both parties would know about, or send it through me. I ask that you CC me with anything. ex) You and I dated fifteen years ago, or (to me) Tell X that she ran over someone while drunk driving when she was 16, because that's going to be my sister. After all this is set up, and everyone knows whatever they need to know about their character, I'll decide who murdered the man and PM you your alibis (or have a brief discussion with you to decide on it). Then we try to unravel it all. The maid is a possible suspect. In the meantime, I'm going to make an intro post and then you can introduce your character. Remember: Speak in rhyme when you can! This is a musical. Edit: Important note for those not used to posting in the banquet room... you will get an "email" error when posting, but your post has been made, don't repost.

Kerri runs up to Greggor and grabs his shoulders, looking him in the eye. Despite red eyes and salty tears running down her cheeks, her expression is fierce. "Morris Pavlov and his partner Ed Cooper killed half of my soul. Help me avenge her today. We have to get him now while we can, and we need everyone's help. I swear," she said, turning to face the rest of the group, "If I'm wrong you can kill me tomorrow as I want to die anyway. I want to die!" she screamed the last bit, then her voice calmed again to a steady but chilling rate, "but I want to kill her murderer first." Ice from her glare seemed almost capable of impaling Ed Cooper.

I think you're right about balance. I cannot think of a single thing that's good for you that isn't bad when you have too much of it. The way I see it (and mind you I believe in God, even if I'm never quite sure what else I believe in) is that for every premature death, pain/suffering/death in greater amount is avoided in the future. For example, a busload of schoolkids crashes and most of them die, but maybe one of those kids would have grown up to be the most successful and remorseless mass murderer the world has seen, inflicting painful deaths on tens of children, adults, even babies. I also think that God cannot act in the world as much as Satan can, so God acts instead by making good come from Satan's actions. Remember also that for those that believe in God, life on earth is never quite as important as life in the everafter. I don't necessarily see it that way, I find it difficult not to plan for both possibilities (ie enjoy life here and now, but generally try to be a good person too), but many religions claim that the wholesale killing of believers by nonbelievers isn't a bad thing... it doesn't matter that the bad guy won... because all the people who died standing up for their belief went to Heaven.

It's a little hard to comment too much on this first post. It makes me curious what is going on, makes me want to read more, but beyond that I'm not sure what else to say. I did want to mention, since you noted that spelling comments were welcome, is that I think in the third paragraph you wanted the word "piqued" not "peaked". And I hope I understood properly and more is coming, since it doesn't exactly seem complete yet. I'll try to comment again when there is more.