h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

...*whispers...*wonder if myst takes half as long with foreplay?
...*smiles as her 'mallows burn...*~ ~~

*Glares.*

Hey! This is hard to do well...

S'all right, it's worth the waiting periods. =]

I like things that are hard, to, do, well.

*Glares , clears throat, and continues*



The stranger stared on, off at a point above my head. At that moment, the sky lit up with another bolt of lightning, and I got a glimpse of a rough, scarred face. It startled me, not the face itself, but the expression that seemed to draw the eye away from all other features, an expression of anger, of hatred, but most of all, of pain.

"Karo and I were not content. Marin seemed to enjoy the life our-" his voice took on a tinge of rage, "-/his/ father led. He loved the simple things in life, and, I suppose, better off in the end."

...*takes out note pad and writes: remember to ask Myst just how he thinks a tart *should* act...quietly returns notepad to pouch...*
...*whispers...*i think we might all want to sit closer together. juss
in case one of us becomes afraid or sumthin'.

What is happening round here!

shhh Myst is tryin to think!

exactly.

Well: What happened?

I don't know... I've lost any idea of where the story could go from here...

Oh, Myst! Go on with your tale. Don't leave anything out. You know, about how twin brothers (meaphors for one's self
the good side -vs- the evil, gready side) went after the same treasure...how the one tried to profit from The stolen Grail & the other was in it for the greater good of mankind.
Do go on.

The muse strikes again!

The stranger shook his head, as if clearing some unwanted thought, scattering drops of water to fall hissing to the fire.

"Make no mistake, stranger, that I and my brothers were no simple men, nor was our- their- father. He failed to persue his inheritance, and wished his sons to do the same. He failed to see the power he could have had. I was not blinded as he."

Excellent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~bookmark~~~~~

The stranger glared at me, and I leaned back, wary of one such as he becoming mad at one so weak as myself. He noticed this, and sagged, no longer as proud and fierce as he had seemed.

"I did not think it wrong to seek power. Why not, why should I be ashamed? It was my birthright... of course, I have no need to be mad with you. That was many, many years ago. I am sorry if I have alarmed you, friend. Old wounds still ache, as you no doubt know."

I leaned closer to the fire, and shivered.
"It is quite all right. I suppose your life has been hard, from how you put it. But... birthright? Are you royalty? I would not have a noble eating such meager food, but how could you be royalty, if your father was-"
The stranger cut me off there, speaking quickly.
"Do not feel ashamed, man," he said, "for I am indeed grateful for your kindness. I am royalty, in a fashion, but not in the sense of which you think. You see, there is royalty over the land, and those who have it you call kings. There is royalty of the mind and bone, and those you call tyrants. Last of all, there is royalty of spirit and heart, and those you call the righteous.
"But there is one more."

...*digs her nails into her skirts awaiting the learing of the 'next'
type of royalty...what sort of metaphoric royalty could remain...*