"The Adventures of Captain Morgan" Or "Damn That Mossfoot"

[ClymAngus]

That's sweet, I'm welling up, seriously I am. I'm having to do the entire "I've got something in my eye" routine else I'd be sobbing like a big fat bearded baby.

I must say I had some worries that Elite:dangerous might leech talent from the boards. I'm happy to say all it appears to have done (in relation to writing talent) is neatly separate the people who found 4 grand from the people who didn't.

[Malacandra]

Married? Is Morgan getting tired of sex already then? #cynic

[ClymAngus]

It's love, man!

So many people (including me) write about the sweeping vistas. In doing so we forget about the joys of the small mico stories, the human interest that drives character. It pushes and pulls the people we write about, flowing through them, altering them and in doing so they grow.

Imagine something trying to pull these two souls apart, to fracture and destroy their unity. We the audience have been treated to the growing together of these 2 people. A hard fought fight back to this beautiful state of oneness would not only have us cheering them on, but pouring dark scorn upon those who would dare separate them.

We care about these characters because despite the adversity, we humans do love a good love story. The fragility of the bliss that is seen here, keeps us reading. We are envious, but it is a thing so splendid that it fills even the most cynical soul with light.

Sorry getting a bit "wordy" there. It is a good story.

[Diziet Sma]

I must say I had some worries that Elite:dangerous might leech talent from the boards. I'm happy to say all it appears to have done (in relation to writing talent) is neatly separate the people who found 4 grand from the people who didn't.

Meh.. it hasn't leeched any talent away, IMO.. those individuals are just (understandably) rather busy on the promotions trail at the moment..

[Diziet Sma]

It is a good story.

Nominating this for understatement of the year..

[Paradox]

That's sweet, I'm welling up, seriously I am. I'm having to do the entire "I've got something in my eye" routine else I'd be sobbing like a big fat bearded baby.

I must say I had some worries that Elite:dangerous might leech talent from the boards. I'm happy to say all it appears to have done (in relation to writing talent) is neatly separate the people who found 4 grand from the people who didn't.

I can't say how much that means ClymAngus... To know, that I finally succeeded in touching that deep of an emotional chord in someone. I was starting to worry, because between just you and I, there's has been more than one occasion, I have had to type through blurry eyes. I mean, how weird is that!?!?!? Another of those "story writing itself, and I am just along for the ride" moments. It's also the reason I was hoping to find some female readers, to see if I was able to affect... anyone other than myself in that way! };]This is what I have been striving for all along. Thank you! (hopefully, next chapter will be just as bad/good!)

As for E:D... My laptop won't be able to play it, and I can't afford it anyways soo.. Not much point in me hanging out on their boards...

[Paradox]

Married? Is Morgan getting tired of sex already then? #cynic

No, I am still wishing I could write these stories without the restrictions imposed/implied by this wiki. ( I understand... family board and all, but I can still wish!)

And remember, this is fiction, so here at least, marriage doesn't nescessarily mean the end of sex. };]

[Paradox]

It's love, man!

So many people (including me) write about the sweeping vistas. In doing so we forget about the joys of the small mico stories, the human interest that drives character. It pushes and pulls the people we write about, flowing through them, altering them and in doing so they grow.

Imagine something trying to pull these two souls apart, to fracture and destroy their unity. We the audience have been treated to the growing together of these 2 people. A hard fought fight back to this beautiful state of oneness would not only have us cheering them on, but pouring dark scorn upon those who would dare separate them.

We care about these characters because despite the adversity, we humans do love a good love story. The fragility of the bliss that is seen here, keeps us reading. We are envious, but it is a thing so splendid that it fills even the most cynical soul with light.

Sorry getting a bit "wordy" there. It is a good story.

Bottom line. If my real life has to suck ass, this badly. Then by god, I can at least have something good happening in my story! };]

[Paradox]

It is a good story.

Nominating this for understatement of the year..

<sniff> Thanks Dizzy, really, thank you!

BTW, I found, I totally cannot write an Australian accent. };] I don't even know if you have one... I hope the next chapter does not offend in any way, I want you to know, it was not intended to.

That goes for all the rest of my Aussie readers too!

Which brings up another interesting point. We all have accents, even us yanks. };] But I wonder how my characters sound, to you guys... If you're an Aussie, do Morgan and Spitfire speak with Aussie accents in your head? Or what if you're British, or...? And how does one write an Australian accent if one tries to avoid the cliches like "barbie", "mate", and "sheila". I couldn't do it. I had to use "mate". I'm sorry.

I did read a very good "supernatural romance" series once, about a group of Scottish werewolves. The author did a fantastic job (I thought...) of portraying their accents. I need to go find those again...

This post got way out of hand. };] Thanks again Dizzy!

[Malacandra]

It is a good story.

Nominating this for understatement of the year..

Which brings up another interesting point. We all have accents, even us yanks. };] But I wonder how my characters sound, to you guys... If you're an Aussie, do Morgan and Spitfire speak with Aussie accents in your head? Or what if you're British, or...?

[dry Brit]My dear fellow, anyone whose idea of fine dining involves ordering a burger is in no danger of being mistaken for anything but an American. [/dry Brit]

[Paradox]

Chapter 39 – It's A Nice Day For A Black Wedding

After I had “unwrapped my present”, we showered, and got caught up on our chores for the day. Spitfire was fluttering around the ship like a butterfly. Nipper, was just enjoying bein' a dog. And I, was feeling pretty damn good my own-self. It was almost dinnertime, and I had been told, I was to stay out of the common room. That left me on the bridge, going through system checks and inventories with Aria. The bridge door opened, and in came Spitfire, followed by her tool-bot. It was carrying a small table, with all the fixin's for our favorite hamburger buffet, as well as a small birthday cake! Her nano-suit, which had her universe scene on it just moments before, now featured, “Happy Birthday Baby!” scrolling across it, and multicolored balloons, placed over strategic spots. Which, to my delight, popped when I poked them! We ate on the bridge, to give Mr. Orbit his, seemingly preferred, privacy. After dinner and cake, and some more balloon popping and giggling. Spitfire took my hand, and with Nipper following close behind, she pulled me along toward the cargo bay. We exchanged polite greetings, as we passed Mr. Orbit, reading in the common room. Then, descended the stairs, to the floor of the cargo bay. Inside her workshop, was a large object covered in wrapping paper.

“Oh Spitfire, you didn't!” I said. I could guess by the shape, what it was. It would have taken a huge chunk of her credits to buy this.

“Baby, I could tell you wanted it when you saw it. I also know, that you would never spend that much on something, just for yourself. Please Morgan, don't fuss. Let me do this for you.” I picked her up, and kissed her hard. We finally broke apart to breath. I set her down, and she helped me unwrap the lev-bike.

It was big, shiny, and beautiful. It vaguely resembled the wheeled motorcycles of ages past, but in place of wheels, it had two gyro stabilizers. Four levitation field generators, on each side of the gyros to provided lift and stability. A central plasma reactor, provided power to the two thrust engines, that were located in front and rear of the bike. This particular lev-bike, had been set up for long distance cruising. It had two seats, one behind the other, covered in black leather. The passenger seat had a backrest, as well as small padded arm rests that would fold down. Below, and to the sides of the passenger seat, were two cargo compartments. Another compartment, or “trunk”, was located behind the backrest. All of its body panels, were a deep, high gloss black. And all the chrome bits, had been plated to look like gold.

“Babe, I don't know what to say. It's beautiful.” I said.

“You say “Thank you, and I love you”.” She prompted.

I picked her up again, and said, “Thank you, and I do love you. I will always love you.” We tongue wrestled for a while, then she broke away, and said, “You can't ride it right now, but you can start it up!” She was bouncing with excitement. I grinned, and threw my leg over the bike. The central panel between my legs lit up, and I registered my hand-print, dna, etc. I also had Spitfire register hers as well. Then I told Spitfire to climb on. She threaded her leg across the passenger seat, and I helped her slide on. She leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around my middle, squeezing me with excitement. I turned on the power, and the big bike lifted about eight inched off the floor. I activated the reactor, and a low whine began to cycle up. Nipper backed away, barking at the strange machine and noise. Spitfire grinned ear to ear. I set the thrust ports to neutral, so the bike wouldn't try to go anywhere, then I started the thrust engines. With a roar they fired up, and then settled into a low ground shaking rumble. I grinned and looked back at Spitfire.

She had let go of me, and was leaning back in her seat, against the backrest. Her eyes big, her lips parted. “It's vibrating!” She shouted. When I nodded, she shook her head and shouted, “No, I mean 'down there'!" She indicated downward to her hands, which were cupped over her nether region. I grinned bigger, and nodded again.

There's a good reason biker girls call them “floating vibrators”. I gunned the throttle.

Spitfires eye's shot open as far as they could go. Her mouth opened in a big 'O'. I goosed the throttle a few more times, just for fun, before I let it settle back into an idle. I tapped a button on the vidscreen, to activated the vibration dampeners for the passenger seat. Spitfire's body relaxed. She looked at me for a second in shock, then leaned around me and turned the dampeners back off. I laughed as she grinned, and wiggled in her seat. I pointed out the small datapad on the arm of her backrest. She could control her own dampeners, as well as play music, bring up maps, etc. I shut down the engines and then the plasma reactor. The big machine settled gently back to the floor, as I turned it off.

“HOLY SHI...!” She said, as the cargo bay returned to silence. She looked at me in shock.

“Many a bitter divorce, has centered around 'who gets to keep the lev-bike'.” I informed her.

“I can believe it!” She replied, looking down with awe, at the bike between her thighs. She threw her arms around me and said, “Oh baby, I can not wait, for you to take me for a ride!"

I laughed. “I'll take you for a ride alright!” I stepped off the bike, then lifted her off, and set her on her feet. Her legs were already a little wobbly.

“I'm going to hold you to that promise, right now! Come on!” And she grabbed my hand and dragged me back to our quarters.

Ten days later, we arrived at Riredi. I was acting Captain today. We had agreed to toss for it. Spitfire landed in the middle of the bed, thus proving that I could toss her, farther than she could toss me. I still don't know why she considered that cheating... We told Mr. Orbit to secure himself and his belongings and so forth, and we prepared to exit witchspace. We popped out, to find a deserted buoy. Aria located and marked the station, and I headed us toward it. We met a small trade convoy poking along, and then a cluster of five Galcop Vipers heading out on patrol.

“Hey boys! Anyone want to hold my hand on the way to the station?” Spitfire said over the comms. That earned us a VERY close flyby by the Vipers. Spitfire ran to the window and waved at them as they went by. They whistled and waved back. One of the pilots apologized, and told her sadly, that they had to complete their patrol.

“Sorry ma'am, but I would be happy to meet you later, and buy you a drink!” Said one hopeful pilot.

Spitfire winked at me and said, “Sorry boys, but I'll be happily married by then!”

Groans and protests met her announcement. We said goodbye, as we continued on toward the station. We breathed a sigh of relief as we docked. No assassins, no pirates, no drama. Just the way I like it. We received payment, plus a rather nice bonus, and then said goodbye to the quiet Mr. Orbit. I laughed, and told Spitfire, that maybe she should put on a little show like that, for all our passengers. She grinned and said she would think about it. Problem was, she was serious!

Mr. Orbit disappeared down our cargo ramp. Spitfire turned toward me, her eyes sparkling, as she bounced on her toes. “Well Bee, have you changed your mind?”I asked her.

She punched me in the stomach. “No you big, boneheaded, lug!”

I became very serious, as I took her tiny hands in mine. I looked into her eyes for a few seconds, and then said. “Spitfire, will you marry me?”

And, even though we had already been through this, she still started to cry. She leaped on me, arms around my neck, and legs around my waist. “Yes Morgan, I would love to marry you. Will you marry me too?” I was pretty sure this wasn't how it was normally done, but I smiled and said, “There is nothing in this universe, I would rather do more.”

I set her down and asked, “Do you want to do it here? Or should we go down to the planet?”

She looked around the station and smiled. “We met on a station just like this, lets go ahead and do it here, then we can honeymoon on the planet afterwords.”

“That sounds like a right fine idea by me! Let's go get ready.”

Once we showered, she made another request, one that I instantly agreed to. I put on my work boots, black jeans, and a black t-shirt. She put on her work boots, her old mesh crop-top, and the teeny tiny cut-offs, that I had come to love so much. She also put on her daddy's tool-belt and filled it all his old tools. They were the same clothes, we were wearing when we met. And somehow, having her fathers tool-belt and tools along, made things feel right. We made sure Nipper was settled in the cargo bay, then I drove us into the station on my new lev-bike. I made Spitfire turn on her dampeners, as I didn't want her having convulsions until after the wedding!

First, we had to stop, and buy a pair of rings. She picked out two, plain gold bands, and I was proud of her reasoning. She said, once she put that ring on, she would never take it off again, voluntarily. And if it had some big diamond or something on it, it might get stuck in machinery, or interfere while she was working. My heart near burst. Then, we rode to the Galcop courthouse, and asked if someone there, could marry us. They were going to do it right then and there. But Spitfire asked, if someone would be willing to come down to the shipyard, as that was where we had met. A young man in a clergy uniform, said he would do it, and that he would be happy to meet us there.

As we waited for him to arrive, we saw five Galcop Vipers come in through the dock. They glided slowly overhead and Spitfire bounced on her toes and waved at them. They circled and landed not far away. Then, all five pilots came jogging over, shouting and asking if they were too late! Spitfire blushed, giggled, and beamed, as she told then we were waiting for the clergyman to arrive. With covert winks and grins in my direction, they all gathered around her. Each one kneeling and begging her to marry them instead. We were both laughing at their antics, when the clergyman arrived. The five pilots asked if they could stay for our little ceremony, and of course, we said they could. One of the older pilots, the leader of their group, asked if he could stand in for Spitfire's father. Spitfire began to cry as she nodded and thanked him for being so thoughtful. He offered his arm, and she threaded her arm through his. Then, he stepped back with her a short ways to wait. The rest of us lined up, as though we had rehearsed this moment. Two of them stood with me, while the other two stood near Spitfire. The clergyman spoke to me for a few minutes, getting names and ceremony preferences and such. Then indicated he was ready to begin. The older pilot brought Spitfire forward, and with a serious reverence, placed her hand in mine. Then he stepped back and stood with the other pilots beside her. Spitfire was already sobbing.

“You have come to me, and asked to be legally joined together in marriage. It is my honor and pleasure to do so. Morgan Bartholomew Black, do you truly and honestly love this woman?” He asked.

“I love her more than than life itself, and I couldn't bear to face that life, if she weren't there beside me.” I replied, looking into her eyes.

“Bee Ann Spitfire Noughty, Do you truly and honestly love this man?” He asked her. I had warned him about calling her Beatrice.

“Oh yes! I love him with all my heart, body and soul. I think I always have, and I know, I always will.” She said, as she looked up at me. Now we both had tears rolling down our cheeks.

The clergyman looked at us both, and smiled. “I believe you both. I know of no reason, why the two of you, should not be married. Is there anyone else here who feels otherwise?” The younger pilots grinned. They cleared their throats, and shuffled their feet, as though they might just raise some objections. But it was all in fun, and none of them actually spoke. Their antics, making Spitfire laugh as she cried. ”So be it. By Galcop law, I do hereby declare the two of you, legally wed.”

The pilots all had fun groaning and moaning, before they laughed and cheered. Then, before I could even kiss my new bride, they all lined up for a kiss of their own. They grabbed me, and passed me from one man to the next, until I was at the end of the line. Then, each in turn, bent my little Spitfire backwards, or picked her clean off the ground, as they gave a good long kiss on the lips. They were having such a grand time, teasing and ribbing me, I couldn't help but laugh. As for my little Spitfire, she gave back just as well and better, than she received. And all four of the younger pilots, let her go, feeling more than a little breathless and dazed. The older pilot hugged her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. But Spitfire wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a long one on him as well. As she hugged him, she whispered in his ear why his act had touched he so deeply. Damned if he didn't look ready to cry himself. Finally, it was my turn. She leaped into my arms, and wrapped her arms and legs tightly around me a we kissed. Our mouths hungry for each other.

The pilots all cheered again, and gathered around us. They were slapping and patting us on the backs, shaking my hand, and hugging my little Spitfire. I had just managed to get the paperwork from the clergyman, before we were herded into a local pilot hangout. Drinks were bought, as the story spread to all the other pilots in the bar. Soon, tables were pushed back, and music began to play. Every man in the bar, Galcop and common pilot alike, took turns swinging little Spitfire around the dance floor. No sooner would she collapse into my arms, than another pilot would appear, and spirit her away again. She was kissed and hugged and then kissed again, before being twirled and spun around the floor. There were a few female pilots there as well, and I found myself, on the receiving end, of a few hot kisses and hugs as well. Between the dancing and laughing, Spitfire could hardly catch her breath. She was having so much fun, I couldn't help but grin and laugh along with her. At some point, later that evening, after she had downed a few drinks. A wild, hard base hitting song began playing, and Spitfire began a dance of her own. Within seconds, someone had lifted her onto the bar, so that we could all watch her performance. This was not her moon goddess dance. The was just a young girl, celebrating her youth, life, and happiness. She unbuckled her tool-belt and tossed it to me amid a roaring cheer. She kicked her long legs and waved her arms in time to the music. She shimmied and teased, and somehow flirted with every person in the bar, at all at once. She turned, and stuck her gorgeous little bottom out at us, bumping and grinding it to the music.

And that's when it happened. Someone, reached out of the crowd, and grabbed her butt. I surged out of my chair, but a dozen hands grabbed me, and I heard a voice next to my ear say, “Easy now mate! No worries 'bout your lit'l blushing bride there. Why, she couldn't be safah, if she was our own little sistah. Look there mate! And see what I mean.”

At least ten men had grabbed the overzealous offender, lifted him bodily from the floor, and were heaving him out of the front door. Spitfire was never even aware of what had happened. She finished her dance to a roaring ovation. Another song began, a slow seductive melody, and the crowd began to chant for another dance. Now, my moon goddess appeared. She looked at me across the room, and began to dance. Slow, erotic, sensuous, she swayed and moved. Her hands caressing her body one moment, and then beckoning and beseeching me then next. The room had gone silent. At times, she looked into my eyes, dancing only for me. At others, her eyes were closed, as she shut out everything but her own body and the music. Occasionally, her eyes would take in those of the crowd, as she would tease and torment them. The last notes of the song faded away, and Spitfire stood still. The crowed bar roared. Spitfire smiled, and held her arms straight out to her sides. Then she fell forward. Countless hands reached up to catch her. They supported her entire body over their heads, as they passed her from hands to waiting hands. Around the room she went laughing and squealing. Until finally, she was placed in my waiting arms. When she saw it was me, she latched her mouth onto mine. She straddled my chair and clenched her fingers tightly in my hair, pulling my mouth against hers, almost painfully. Her body was pressed against my chest and stomach as she ground her breasts and pelvis against me. The crowd was cheering and egging her on. She broke our kiss, gasping for air.

“Mr. Black! If you don't take me home, and molest me this instant, I will strip us both naked and do you right here on the table!” The bar erupted in cheers and encouragement! My little Spitfire was not only tipsy, she was also very aroused.

I thought about it for a second...

“Mrs. Black! Had I one more drink, I would call your bluff! However, we will now say goodnight and goodbye to our new friends, before I take you home to ravish your delectable little body!” Someone immediately shouted, that I be given another drink, and everyone laughed and cheered. Maybe Spitfire wasn't the only one who was tipsy and “aroused”.

“Bluff?!” Spitfire's little eyebrows shot up at the challenge. An instant later, her top landed on my shoulder. Amid the new wave of cheering and ovations, someone handed me a cup of coffee. The same voice from earlier, said “Buzz-Kill, mate.” I took the cup and drained it. Spitfire was fumbling with the button on her shorts, when I picked her up, and threw her over my shoulder. With tool-belt and shirt in one hand, and Spitfire's delightful bottom in the other, I started heading for the door. People slapped us on the back, and yelled out their encouragement and well wishes. There were also a few, who tried to talk us into finishing the show!

A small group of people escorted us back to the lev-bike, and by the time we reached it, the Buzz-Kill had left me uncomfortably sober. All five of the original pilots were in the group. They all stood in line for a last hug and kiss from a half naked Spitfire.

My friend from the bar was there as well, just another trader like myself. “Names Dizzy. You're a lucky fella! You take care of her now.” He shook my hand, and slapped me on the shoulder. Then he got in line for his hug and farewell kiss too.

We finally finished our goodbyes, and I managed to get Spitfire situated on the bike. Then we headed for Aria, who was only a minute or two away. Spitfire had the dampeners off, and her hands down the front of my pants by the time we arrived. I secured the bike, and carried her up to the common room. I mixed her a Buzz-Kill, as well as a few aspritabs. She pouted at me, but drank it down. I took a couple aspritabs myself, to counteract the headache that the Buzz-Kill left behind. By the time we got to the bridge, and got a launch window, we were both sober and clear headed once again. I headed out into the black, and then contacted planetary control. I told them what I was looking for, and they gave me a set of co-ordinates. Twenty minutes later, Aria was parked in a high mountain meadow, next to a small, cold mountain lake. We took a blanket outside and spread it on the grass. Spitfire had lost her shorts, shortly after arriving back on Aria, and she now insisted I do that same. Then, she reached into my hair and pulled my head down to her. She devoured my mouth with hers, and I folded her into my arms. When she finally broke away, She said. “Call me what you did, in the bar.”

I had to think about it for a second, then I understood. “Mrs. Black you mean?”

She grinned at me under the starlight. “Mmmm ya, I like the sound of that. "Mrs Black! Or maybe “Mrs Spitfire Black! Oooh! I really like that! What do you think?”

“I think Mrs. Spitfire Black, sounds perfect. Spitfire Black... Sounds like the name of a vidscreen movie pirate! It's kinda sexy and dangerous!"

She giggled as I laid her down on the blanket. “Spitfire Black.” She said aloud. “Do you know what I think, Mr. Morgan Black?” She asked.

“No, what do you think, Mrs. Spitfire Black.” I answered.

“I think it's time you “ravished my delectable little body” like you promised in the bar.”

“Is that what you think, Mrs Black?” I said.

“It is, Mr. Black!” She replied.

And so I did. Repeatedly.

[Paradox]

[dry Brit]My dear fellow, anyone whose idea of fine dining involves ordering a burger is in no danger of being mistaken for anything but an American. [/dry Brit]

LOFL! Well said! };]

[Neelix]

Which brings up another interesting point. We all have accents, even us yanks. };] But I wonder how my characters sound, to you guys... If you're an Aussie, do Morgan and Spitfire speak with Aussie accents in your head? Or what if you're British, or...? And how does one write an Australian accent if one tries to avoid the cliches like "barbie", "mate", and "sheila". I couldn't do it. I had to use "mate". I'm sorry.

Funny you should say that really.... When you posted your reference source for Aria's voice I found it completely mismatched with what I had in mind. (though later I did hear it when reading Aria's dialogue) Mind you I think my expectations in this regard have been somewhat coloured over the years. When I think of a computer voice, the voice I hear in my head is Majel Barrett-Roddenberry. But other than that the characters I imagine do tend to speak with aussie accents unless the accent is specified in the text (and I'm familiar enough with said accent to hear it)

No need to apologise for using the vernacular, that's a big part of how we talk... the trouble is that it does need to be considered in context. Yes, aussies tend to pepper their language with words like mate, bloody, & bullshit, but it isn't every second word (or even every second sentence) like you see with the worst faux aussie accents. We'll use barbie... but only in reference to an actual barbecue, which means it doesn't tend to come up in conversation in other contexts. (and your typical Aussie bbq is more likely to consist of meat - snags, burgers or steaks or some combination thereof - and onion and capsicum for flavour. Shrimps? not so much) Also the specific vernacular tends to vary from person to person. For example, G'day is my usual form of greeting but I personally don't tend to refer to women as sheilas.

For a good example of how an Aussie talks, check out the EEVblog on youtube. (Edit: Though having met Dizzy IRL I can say that his voice isn't anywhere near that nasal )

- Neelix

PS: After reading that latest chapter I'd say you didn't do too badly.

EDIT2: <--- I made Elite!

[Paradox]

Funny you should say that really.... When you posted your reference source for Aria's voice I found it completely mismatched with what I had in mind. (though later I did hear it when reading Aria's dialogue) Mind you I think my expectations in this regard have been somewhat coloured over the years. When I think of a computer voice, the voice I hear in my head is Majel Barrett-Roddenberry.

LOL! I never even thought about the computer from Star Trek! Not that I have anything against Majel Barrett-Roddenberry, but I think I much prefer Aria's. };]

But other than that the characters I imagine do tend to speak with aussie accents unless the accent is specified in the text (and I'm familiar enough with said accent to hear it)

Too funny! I don't know why, but I find that thought fascinating! To think that in each country Morgan and Spitfire will talk completely differently. Too cool!

No need to apologise for using the vernacular, that's a big part of how we talk... the trouble is that it does need to be considered in context. Yes, aussies tend to pepper their language with words like mate, bloody, & bullshit, but it isn't every second word (or even every second sentence) like you see with the worst faux aussie accents. We'll use barbie... but only in reference to an actual barbecue, which means it doesn't tend to come up in conversation in other contexts. (and your typical Aussie bbq is more likely to consist of meat - snags, burgers or steaks or some combination thereof - and onion and capsicum for flavour. Shrimps? not so much) Also the specific vernacular tends to vary from person to person. For example, G'day is my usual form of greeting but I personally don't tend to refer to women as sheilas.

Even though the US also has different accents across different parts of the country, I don't think we really think about the same thing happening in other countries. I of course know Steve Irwin and Crocodile Dundee. And I think to most Americans, we think that that, is just what all Aussies must sound like. It's interesting you have different accents as well. I was raised in southern Arizona, Tucson to be exact, I tend to use the southern vernacular, but without the familiar southern "twang" that have in the southeast. Actually, I tend to talk a lot like Morgan strangely enough. };] A lot of "darlin'"s and "y'all"s and "yes'm"s

For a good example of how an Aussie talks, check out the EEVblog on youtube. (Edit: Though having met Dizzy IRL I can say that his voice isn't anywhere near that nasal )

- Neelix

Nor that hyper I hope! };]

PS: After reading that latest chapter I'd say you didn't do too badly.

EDIT2: <--- I made Elite!

Thank you Neelix!

And congrats!

[Neelix]

Even though the US also has different accents across different parts of the country, I don't think we really think about the same thing happening in other countries. I of course know Steve Irwin and Crocodile Dundee. And I think to most Americans, we think that that, is just what all Aussies must sound like. It's interesting you have different accents as well. I was raised in southern Arizona, Tucson to be exact, I tend to use the southern vernacular, but without the familiar southern "twang" that have in the southeast. Actually, I tend to talk a lot like Morgan strangely enough. };] A lot of "darlin'"s and "y'all"s and "yes'm"s

Yeah. Regional differences can be funny... If you manage to get people from Brisbane and Melbourne in the same room, and someone mentions cicadas it's likely to be followed by a fair bit of ribbing over the pronunciation.

For a good example of how an Aussie talks, check out the EEVblog on youtube. (Edit: Though having met Dizzy IRL I can say that his voice isn't anywhere near that nasal )

Nor that hyper I hope! };]

Indeed not!
To be fair, If I'd known when I typed that that you were writing dialogue for Dizzy I probably wouldn't have used that as an example. I started that message before you posted the chapter.


- Neelix