Oolite Bulletins

Seconded!

Becca watched with a satisfied smirk as the Rock Hermit's asteroid complex exploded into a billion shining shards...

'That's the last time you forget to dry clean my Princess Leia special edition robes properly!' she hissed. She turned to the quivering wreck in the corner. 'Now, Hesperus, the more you tighten your grip, the more trumbles will slip through your fingers...'

Seriously, Rebecca, why not? You're guaranteed a warm reception in these recession hit times after all!

Cheers,

Drew.

Looked for the "Like" button - - wrong site!

'Hey you!'

he looked up confused, taking in her short stance and the nasty looking gun. it had a nice end and a business end. he'd got the end that was talking stock-markets and project planning.

'who are you?'

'you should know.'

he frowned, 'i should? why?'

'you wrote me' she waggled the gun.

'what?'

'you're drew, right?'

'ye....yes'.

'you gave me this attitude problem and a penchant for shooting first and asking questions later, right?'

'er... but you don't really exist!'

'yeah, i'm just a figment of your imagination with an attention deficit disorder. still your fault...'

'you're rebecca!'

'ooo.. bright lad. and my namesake has taken over...'

'you don't mean...'

she grinned, pulling back the safety on the gun. 'yeah. someone else has got the pen now, no one on the forum is safe. i'm hoggying the limelight, i'm gonna be another another commander, disembodied is gonna be exactly that... no more status quo... it's all mutabilis from here on in!'

'wait, you can't just...'

'whats the present tense of drew?'

'huh?'

'your the writer! whats the present tense of drew?'

'er... draw'

BANG!

'too easy!' she commented as the body slumped to the floor. 'hesperus... clean this up!'


B.

Nice one Rebecca... more!

You certainly have a nice style (I'm not likely to say anything else!) Looking forward to future output.

OMG! She killed me off already. Was I wearing a red-shirt tonight?



Really good your worshipfulness; more, More, MORE!

hoggying the limelight.... chuckles on his way to bed...

Cheers,

Drew.

drew wrote:

OMG! She killed me off already. Was I wearing a red-shirt tonight?



Really good your worshipfulness; more, More, MORE!

hoggying the limelight.... chuckles on his way to bed...

Cheers,

Drew.

Said Drew, via a Medium and judicious use of Ouija Board and temporal distortion field...

BtHS wrote:

hoggying the limelight

But I don't like limes, full fat or otherwise!

As the stars slowly turned past the windows of the Ferestidian's rest one of the stations more seedy drinking establishments the denizens within laughed, argued, fought, played, struck deals, whispered sweet nothings and did all the things expected of them, once lubricated with strong spirits.

The one thing they didn't notice were the 2 strangers sitting in the back corner. A good hour had passed since either of them had spoken a word. The elder of the two sipped his lavean brandy, savouring it as he mulled over his younger drinking fellows last statement.

"So, I'm you then?"

The younger man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No" he said almost absent mindedly "I would never be that presumptive or egotistical. I could lay claim to being the river bed through which many things flow, but does the river bed own the river that runs through it? Or is it merely the easiest path? The river eventually changes the path of the bed itself, everything as they say is relative."

"So if I'm not you and you lay no claim to me then why are we having this conversation in the first place."

"Excellent question, it seems that some where else there was a fashion for injecting the authors into the lives of the people they write about. One such story has already ended badly."

"and you seem to hope that this one will end differently?"

"Well here is the nihilistic catch22, Mr Shulth. Truth is it really doesn't matter. I am certainly not me, or at least the creature sitting opposite you is not the author of your saga. I am perhaps a more honest representation of him, but I am as much written as you are. My sentances come in complex forms and roll easily from my tongue with the assured gusto you would usually expect from a written text. That is because it is. If the real Clym were sitting here now, he would be stuttering, repeating himself, loosing his chain of thought. Generally struggling under the pressure of the moment.

"sentances?"

"Sorry, typo." The stranger allowed himself a light smile as he tasted his brandy.

"Still not entirely sure why we're having this conversation."

"Oh that's easy, I'm here to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yes, sorry for your father, the gene wars, the shard, the endless death, you errant children but most of all I'm sorry about Lilitha."

The old mad visibly stiffened, his eyes narrowed burning through the young man like paper. "What exactly do you mean?"

Clym swallowed nervously, "well technically I'm responsible for all the things that have made you the man you are today. I'm not proud of most of them. They have over the centuries scarred and damaged you, I have in my own way been responsible for the deaths of loved ones and old enemies of kith and kin. Destruction on that scale deserves at the very least an apology."

"My dear sir, It is a good thing that I still think you a lunatic. If I thought for one second you were in any way responsible for the death of Lilitha then you would already be dead. No your a security agent most likely, fishing for information using this ridiculous disguise. Your probably insured up to the hilt and wish to tempt a trigger, any trigger to take your pain away." Udian Shulth drew himself up.

"Well tell your bosses it's going to take more than dumb gun bait and a jumped up murder change to get me to leave this system. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Udian strode from the bar leaving the young man slumped in the corner.

Sipping gently on his beverage he muttered to the world in general "well I tried. Still I'm in space! That's cool and the drinks are cheap. Bargain!". Beneath the table the recently attached low yield thermo-bomb lazily and silently ticked towards zero.

The Oolite fictioneers go PoMo!

Great stuff there from ClymAngus and Rebecca both ...

it wasnt me.... help! im trapped inside the game... drews rebecca has kidnapped me and taken over my life!!!!



B.

Well don't expect any help from me, I'm hot dry crispy, in a vacuum, on fire and about to go P.O.P!

Puzzled as to why ClymAngus has turned into a Trumble stuck in a fuel scoop.

Cheers,

Drew.

ClymAngus wrote:

"My dear sir, It is a good thing that I still think your a lunatic.

It really puzzles me why 90% of people on internet, including well educated, mature native english speakers write "you're" as "your".

Sarin wrote:

It really puzzles me why 90% of people on internet, including well educated, mature native english speakers write "you're" as "your".

Apostrophobia?