Works In Progress
Created | Updated Nov 11, 2003
the Lands of Splunk
On a world with many names, most of which are long and tedious, but for the sake of brevity we will call it Splunk (which translates to “a very small rock that when falls into fecal mater reacts oddly and repeat”), an almost ordinary moment was happening. Angus MacFlarn was performing a simple, but highly useful spell in his privet tower in the castle of Lookousplat. It happened to be an everlasting homing spell usually used for directing compasses and the occasional assassination. “Ach flam brook” began Angus, and then continued with “achyoobloodypaisosnooteelbettheblooodypoosootahyoo”. This was where the moment went wrong; a bat had suddenly flown out of the corner into the wizards face causing him to loose concentration and burst into a full on Scotch (by the infinite random probability chain the Scots exist both on Earth and Splunk) Cursing Tantrum and shoot the spell out into the midst of his quite untidy desk and onto his fish bowl. Also this fish bowl was no ordinary fish bowl it had a number of other spells already put on it, but we will not go into them quite yet, the point is that it stood up and flew out the window.
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This particular moment was quite unfortunate for poor old Stray Raybind who at the time was trying to find is way out of the forest on the other side of the continent. The reason for this was that achyoubloodypaisosnooteelbettheblooodypoosootahyoo happened to be the true name of the small slightly magical birthmark on his left hand. The reason he was trying to find his way out of the forest was that some largely unforgiving and unforgivingly large Bookies happened to be in the forest, and it was all because of a misunderstanding of his Simplish accent and the fact that they all spoke Gralic.
Simplish was a language created by a highly organized clan of sages to be the simplest and easiest to understand language ever. The only problem was that the only people who spoke it were a highly civilized society on the small and totally isolated island of Grast because the sages had spent most of there lives on the island creating the language and no longer had the power to get them selves off of it.
Stray said “Oof” and he fell out of the forest. This wouldn’t have been all that unusual except a second before he had been about three miles from the edge of the forest. But none the less he fell right out of the forest and hit his head on a passing fish bowl which then started looking indignant and turned back around and settled in his left hand. Stray would have probably thought ‘Duh’ at this point had he not been out like a light bulb after a Barentian lightning storm.
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Night Transport
It was the middle of the night and I needed to get to Charlotte so I figured it couldn’t hurt, and I was right, kind of…
The buss… train… van… thing drove up to the “night transport” sign with a shudder. I pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder and put my pet into my pocket and climbed up the stairs. Inside it was darkly bright and smelled slightly of Amarican Cheese Food Product. I asked the driver how much the fair was and he said he didnt know but a few coins would probobly do it. I gave him a buck twenty seven. I took a seet near the middle of the bus between a large person with a turben and a small man with rather large eyebrows.
the driver pushed the peddal and the vehicle lept into the air. Then there was a sound it wasn't like "Sproing" and didn't sound like "Twang" but it was somthing inbetewene.
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The water was a bit thick, it tasted like hevily wattered down tomato soup. Despite this I was still hungry, with a swish of my tail I went to go find somthing to eat. A large turtle with a turbin swam by and snaped up a passing minno with a black stripe, just to spit it back out a moment later.
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THE BOY AT THE END
‘He’s only a child’ the man thought, ‘a child that could destroy us all’ thought the thing in side him. His name was Jacob Scot, the child that is, the man’s name is not important. He had a father, a mother, a cat, and a sister, and none of them felt the difference, but he felt it. He felt the power that lay dormant in his mind, in his soul. The thing felt it to, because it’s only purpose was to feel it. It was created by a powerful man, in the distant past, again his name is not important, only that he was.
The man looked at Jacob Scot and found that he didn’t like the kid much, it wasn’t that he didn’t like him, it was just he found that the child wasn’t pleasing. The man had expected a radical child with unruly ways, but this boy was just a normal kid. ‘Your positive that’s him’ he thought ‘my whole existence is based on that child’. ‘I see’ he didn’t really, but it didn’t matter. “So that’s the child that will destroy the world” he said ‘the biverse’ the thing corrected, “yah, yah, what ever”.
While this was happening Jacob was sitting on a bench in the playground of his school drawing in his notebook.
On a world with many names, most of which are long and tedious, but for the sake of brevity we will call it Splunk (which translates to “a very small rock that when falls into fecal mater reacts oddly and repeat”), an almost ordinary moment was happening. Angus MacFlarn was performing a simple, but highly useful spell in his privet tower in the castle of Lookousplat. It happened to be an everlasting homing spell usually used for directing compasses and the occasional assassination. “Ach flam brook” began Angus, and then continued with “achyoobloodypaisosnooteelbettheblooodypoosootahyoo”. This was where the moment went wrong; a bat had suddenly flown out of the corner into the wizards face causing him to loose concentration and burst into a full on Scotch (by the infinite random probability chain the Scots exist both on Earth and Splunk) Cursing Tantrum and shoot the spell out into the midst of his quite untidy desk and onto his fish bowl. Also this fish bowl was no ordinary fish bowl it had a number of other spells already put on it, but we will not go into them quite yet, the point is that it stood up and flew out the window.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
This particular moment was quite unfortunate for poor old Stray Raybind who at the time was trying to find is way out of the forest on the other side of the continent. The reason for this was that achyoubloodypaisosnooteelbettheblooodypoosootahyoo happened to be the true name of the small slightly magical birthmark on his left hand. The reason he was trying to find his way out of the forest was that some largely unforgiving and unforgivingly large Bookies happened to be in the forest, and it was all because of a misunderstanding of his Simplish accent and the fact that they all spoke Gralic.
Simplish was a language created by a highly organized clan of sages to be the simplest and easiest to understand language ever. The only problem was that the only people who spoke it were a highly civilized society on the small and totally isolated island of Grast because the sages had spent most of there lives on the island creating the language and no longer had the power to get them selves off of it.
Stray said “Oof” and he fell out of the forest. This wouldn’t have been all that unusual except a second before he had been about three miles from the edge of the forest. But none the less he fell right out of the forest and hit his head on a passing fish bowl which then started looking indignant and turned back around and settled in his left hand. Stray would have probably thought ‘Duh’ at this point had he not been out like a light bulb after a Barentian lightning storm.
_____________________________________________________________________
Night Transport
It was the middle of the night and I needed to get to Charlotte so I figured it couldn’t hurt, and I was right, kind of…
The buss… train… van… thing drove up to the “night transport” sign with a shudder. I pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder and put my pet into my pocket and climbed up the stairs. Inside it was darkly bright and smelled slightly of Amarican Cheese Food Product. I asked the driver how much the fair was and he said he didnt know but a few coins would probobly do it. I gave him a buck twenty seven. I took a seet near the middle of the bus between a large person with a turben and a small man with rather large eyebrows.
the driver pushed the peddal and the vehicle lept into the air. Then there was a sound it wasn't like "Sproing" and didn't sound like "Twang" but it was somthing inbetewene.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The water was a bit thick, it tasted like hevily wattered down tomato soup. Despite this I was still hungry, with a swish of my tail I went to go find somthing to eat. A large turtle with a turbin swam by and snaped up a passing minno with a black stripe, just to spit it back out a moment later.
_____________________________________________________________________
THE BOY AT THE END
‘He’s only a child’ the man thought, ‘a child that could destroy us all’ thought the thing in side him. His name was Jacob Scot, the child that is, the man’s name is not important. He had a father, a mother, a cat, and a sister, and none of them felt the difference, but he felt it. He felt the power that lay dormant in his mind, in his soul. The thing felt it to, because it’s only purpose was to feel it. It was created by a powerful man, in the distant past, again his name is not important, only that he was.
The man looked at Jacob Scot and found that he didn’t like the kid much, it wasn’t that he didn’t like him, it was just he found that the child wasn’t pleasing. The man had expected a radical child with unruly ways, but this boy was just a normal kid. ‘Your positive that’s him’ he thought ‘my whole existence is based on that child’. ‘I see’ he didn’t really, but it didn’t matter. “So that’s the child that will destroy the world” he said ‘the biverse’ the thing corrected, “yah, yah, what ever”.
While this was happening Jacob was sitting on a bench in the playground of his school drawing in his notebook.
