User blog:Stirling Silverstine/Procrastination Station: Log276.

I was bored.

And even though I had no right to be, as I have about 7 different story ideas, with about 3 halfway (or halfway to halfway,) done, I decided to write something totally pointless.

Dreams of Future Possible: 

A snippit of a possible near-final chapter to Scattered Ashes. 

This was shortly before I finished my story with Theo, so acutally, some of this stuff is probably inaccurate now.. Still, I wanted to use that final line so bad!!! :P Also, this was helpful in realizing that Perry is not loved by all, as Jonna and I discovered as I just basically 'doodled' with words.

Final Disclaimer: I do not expect any of this to be accurate in any way by the time we get there. I really doubt everyone listed will even be alive. :P This is straight-up just for fun. (or to waste time. Thus the 'Procrastination Station' tagline. :P )

The inside of the tent was variously tinted gold and red due to the sun showing through the fabrics. It made the central furnishing of two 6-foot fold out tables side-by-side look vaguely like rich mahogany... Though everyone around it knew they were plastic, and from a flea market. Right now, it was covered in sticky notes and a large, hastily drawn map of Orlan's updated defenses. Underneath Talmid's armored gloves was a smaller map. Peragrine didn't have to be a magician to know that was the Map of Ankoria. A magical page from the fabled Book of Ankoria, possessing the ability to show you a perfect map of any area, big or small. Detailed or broad. Like Google Maps, but even more accurate.

Still, that relic did not long hold Peragrine's attention. Rather, his attention was drawn to the owner of the hand, and the others standing around him. 

There were quite a few people in this tent. 

Foremost among them, Sir Talmid, looking haggard, yet determined. He was wearing full plate armor, and the patch of gold-filtered light he stood in made the metal glow. His family crest embossed on the chestplate was magnificent. In this light, he definitely looked the Legend that everyone believed in, and would rally behind. He just needed to smile. And believe it himself. 

Standing to Talmid's right was Sir Thingguy, who certainly was quite the contrast to Talmid. He was smiling roguishly, or perhaps gamely. While he too was in full plate, he had no clear insigna. (And he wasn't standing in the perfect light,) His full orange beard and shaggy hair made him look like a cuddly lion. Of course, Peragrine knew that lion had some serious claws, being the best swordsman in this room. Peragrine was just glad he was whole again.

On Talmid's left was Lady Jonna, who wore a lighter set of armor comprising of leather underlain with mail. The leather appeared to have been hastily dyed a deep royal blue. She was ready for battle, according to her attire and demeanor. 

On Thingguy's left was Sir Luke. Peragrine didn't know Sir Luke very much. Story went that he had gone into hiding as an Innkeeper named 'Sakul' after the first war. Peragrine decided that if he had been an Innkeeper once, he was a cool guy. He looked very fine in his own set of mail, and notably carried two swords. 

Before Peragrine could oogle at the others; Stirling, Dewin, Iamos, Drumr, Shard, Vorpal, Tain, James, Ember, the 4 knights of Morcia, Squeaky in an old fishbowl on the table, Miyuki, Nuncius,- Lady Jonna spoke.

"Good, Peragrine, you're here. We have a ... Problem."

"What sort of problem?" he asked cheerily.

Jonna looked to Tain, who was standing in front of the table. Tain turned around to face Perry. He had his left upper and lower arm bandaged and the left side of his face was a bit beat up, but he was standing, and Perry knew that Tain wouldn't let those linens stay on long.

"The walls are enchanted. The magician in my scout party said she could feel them as soon as we saw them. They're emanating force. It will literally be like walking against a current. This also affects missiles. Their cannons had more range than we anticipated, as the ammo is carried by this same current against us. My expert says that the power needed for such a strong and consistent force could only be possible by Mythrans. Though it is very likely they don't do it 24/7. That would be insanity."

Peragrine nodded as he began stroking his goatee. "So that's why your face is all botched?"

Tain glared at him.

"Right, right, staying focused," agreed Perry. "So, do you have an idea for what you would want me to do, or am I here to help brainstorm?"

Dewin stepped forward from the back of the room as he rose his hand to point at Peragrine. "You are here because we need brute strength of the mystical type to negate this. If it is indeed the Red Mythrans fueling this, then we cannot truely stop it, but perhaps we can deflect, nullify, or reflect. . . If we work together."

Peragrine gasped. "You mean it?" 

Dewin invouluntarily flinched. "Yes-"

Peragrine began to squeal but was cut off by Dewin.

"-But that means no flailing, no spontaneous combustion, no spastic behavior, no cheap catchphrases, AND ABOVE ALL, NO IMPROVISING." 

Peragrine shook his head in agreement, as he clasped his hands together to refrain from spontaneous dancing. "I've never actually worked with another magic user in concert before!"

Dewin paled.

Talmid breathed a sigh of relief, and rapped the table. "Good, now that that's in the works, you two should head to Dewin's tent. I'm sure between the two of you, you'll find a way to get us to the walls." The two magicians exited, one bobbing up and down on the balls of his toes with excitment, and the other bend double as if carrying the weight of the world. "As for what we'll do when we get there..." mused Talmid.

James stepped forward as Stirling nodded and motioned to him. '"his is where James comes in," he said.

James placed his hands on the table, a rare smile creeping onto his face. He looked at all the faces in the room, then at his friend Stirling, who smiled back.

He turned around to his left, and said to Talmid:

"I have a tank."

(End Example1)

(Begin Concept 2)

The reasoning I have for thedude to use this tactic, is that he wants to seperate the KOTOS, who are working very powerfully to get to him.

This is a snippit, showing how the concept would look IN-STORY.

(\\\\}=========>

Jonna followed in between her friends. Talmid leading, Thingguy making the rear.  They were nearing the throne room. Everyone else was busy, making distractions, holding the enemy off, securing locations,  protecting the innocent populace, or saving friends and allies. She worried for her father; he had not been at the safe house with the Guardian, and his personal Knights had gone looking for him. Jayko had sworn to Jonna that they would not fail to find him, but that only made the sinking feeling in her stomach more real.

Perhaps she should have gone looking for him, but that chance had come and gone. They were too close now. Her place was here, with her friends, With KotoS...

She looked up, realization crashing into her thoughts. 

She was alone in the hallway.

(\\\}========>

Thingguy brought up the rear of the group. Ahead of him were Talmid and Jonna. He held his torch high. "Better grab a torch of your own, Talmid. That hallway's not very well lit." He trotted up to a unlit wall scone and lit it from his own torch. Talmid nodded grimly and grabbed the torch from the wall as he peered into the hallway. Thingguy nodded back and then turned to get back to his rear guard position, when he realized Jonna wasn't there. "Uh, Talmid? You better hold up," he said, before he noticed Talmid was gone too! 

His friends has practically disappeared before him! 

"That's not possible," he reasoned. He stared hard at where Talmid had just been. He waved a hand there, and felt something. It was like petting silk. There was a faint outline that he recognized as his friend, but his vision literally could not focus on what his mind knew it to be.

"What devilry is this?" He wondered. But as soon as he thought it, he knew.

"et iz myne."

(\\\}=======>

Talmid snatched a torch from the wall. He nodded to himself. Lucky him, that it was lit, when none of the others around were... The hallway was getting dark. All the windows had been shuttered. He looked back. "My friends, we art nearing ou...."

His friends were gone. 

He waved his torch into the darkness. Jonna, Thingguy. They were gone!

"Where did they go?"

"deh iz steel dere." 

Talmid spun around, to face the hideous sound barely recognizable as a voice. "thedude!" He only caught a glimpse of a grin before the torch inexplicably went out.

(\\\}====>

(There is also one other reason to use this concept! Because, by using this, not EVERYONE has to join the assault on the main Keep to the Throne room. thedude could project himself to ANYONE. Take these examples:)

(\\\}===>

Peragrine hefted Stirling's shield as he ran towards the tower ahead.  More archers and crossbowmen began firing upon him, so, with effort, he swung the shield onto his back and doubled over for the door. Bursting through with the weight and momentum of the shield, he cried, "PIZZA DELIVERY!"

The next few moments were a rush, as he had a firefight with about 7 opponents in that small space, but he finished them all quite rapidly, and rushed up the stairs, having forgotten the shield momentarily, in his excitment. He caught a few more coming down the stairs, practically running them over as he continued his asent. Popping through the trapdoor at the top, he sent a wave out, pushing 2 off the tower. 

Then, a 'twang' of a crossbow went off behind him, and Peragrine gasped lightly as he felt his energies deplete significantly as a quarrel bounced off of him. He turned around. There was a final guard, who was staring at him with distain. No, more than that. Disgust. Hate.

"You want your friends back?" Peragrine asked compassionately. He closed his eyes, and rapidly felt for the two falling life-forces. Then, he carefully focused on their physical beings, instead of the different colored balls of energy he saw, and pulled. Distantly, he could hear the final guard yelling to 'just leave them alone,' and he faintly realized that he was drawing his sword...

But the blow never came, as once Peragrine stopped their natural descent, he pulled hard and sent them up as fast as they'd been going down.  Then he opened his eyes, and saw a sword pointed at him. He snapped his fingers, and the sword sought his hand, which Peragrine kept down at his side, as The two other guards came screaming over the lip of the tower. They crashed into the third, who lost his grip on the sword. 

"Wouldn't' want to impale your friends," the wizard explained.

The three guards all scrambled to face Peragrine again, who now stepped out of the stairs and trapdoor entrance. As the began to draw various weapons, Peragrine shook his head and pointed to the stairs. "I hope you see reason and walk the safe way down."

The guards looked to each other for advice, but each was clueless as to what to do as the others. Peragrine thought they needed just a bit more persuasion. "I mean, you two don't want to go skydiving for a second time today, do you?"

That settled it for those two, and the third knew he couldn't handle the magician alone. They walked down the stairs, weapons in hand.

"Good." Peragrine sighed, as he looked off along the wall to see if Stirling had captured the second tower. But Stirl- wait, there he was! He had just burst up through the trapdoor. But he was acting very strange. His arm was at a funny angle, and even though there was no one else there on the tower, he seemed to be talking with someone. And now he was fighting!

"STIRLING! AHOY!"

Peragrine was confused. Had Stirling lost his mind or something? He was swinging at air. 

Then, so subtle, he almost missed it, he noticed how everything around himself got... darker. Clouded. Like a thick smoke. Looking up at the tower again, it was... Obscured. More like a faint outline. He couldn't see through whatever this 'smoke' was to the tower. He knew it was more than just smoke. He looked up, to check the sun, but only a dim red halo represented it now. 

"What's going on?" he muttered, more curious than ever.

"Soo. Yew R deh Wezard Boey."

Peragrine whipped around, his Magic at the ready in the palms of his hands. There he stood 

"thedude!"

(\\\}==>

Expecting a firing squad to be trained on the stair's upper hatch, Stirling took a moment's respite to replenish his Imagination with a Notion Potion, so that he could use his Samuria Katana's Imagination enhanced deflecting capabilities. What had he been thinking, leaving his shield behind?!

Moving his right shoulder experimentally, he noted that he could move it in an emergency, but it could break the quarrel, leaving some of it buried in his shoulder socket. Not a welcome prospect.  Switching his own Imagination-fueled Crossbow to his awkward right hand, he moved up and around the stairwell. He saw the exit hatch.  Taking a deep breath, he tested the hatch's lock, then burst through, Katana at the ready.  

But he was not on top of the tower, as he suspected. He was in a dimly lit room. There were no windows, and no discernable light source, and yet, there were shadows. But one shadow did not move with him. Because it was another person. It's back was turned to him, and Stirling could only make out the odd light blue overalls and white t-shirt underneath.

"heelo, Seelvarsteine."

(So, what do you think? Is it a good idea, or perhaps too complicated? For sure, it would extent the total word-count if we were able to do a personal showdown for EVERYONE if we wanted... :P But do we really want that? I don't think I'd really want one for Perry. Rather, I'd pit him against Menaya Kull, but that's going to depend on a lot of things. :P )