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Yes, it is wishful thinking to assume that there might be more than one round robin. I'm not sure how well this will work. Contribute to the story if you like in any amount. A few paragraphs, a huge passage, whatever floats your boat. Here's the beginning:
Thomas Bradly walked quickly through the darkening forest, leaves crunching underfoot with every step. The forest didn't normally bother him, but tonight it seemed particularly shadowed. At least it was unlikely that there would be any lawn gnomes lurking amongst the trees. Lawn gnomes were the product of suburbia and even though Grandmother's house was through the woods, she wouldn't put up with those ugly things either.
Thomas was startled from his thoughts by some shadows. It wasn't that the shadows were any more menacing than the tree-fingers which surrounded him. No, it was the shape that was the problem. These shadows were blacker than anything Thomas had ever seen and they seemed to be moving, slowly coalescing into a perfect oval a mere ten feet (and slightly to the right) of his current position.
And the rest? What Thomas does now? That's up to you, gentle readers and aspiring/current authors. You can turn your hand to any genre, any pairing, any thing that strikes your fancy, pretty much. Have at it and good luck!
P.S. First person with a good title gets to use it.
The comment thread for this story can be found HERE.
"Mmmfff mmm mmfff!" It came from Thomas' right coat pocket. He considered ignoring it, but he didn't want a pocket full of mayonnaise. Thomas reached in and pulled out a plastic squeeze bottle.
"I knew it!" the bottle shouted. "A portal! Could you screw anything *else* up, Thomas?"
"Shut up, GLiB, a random portal is hardly my fault."
"Maybe it's not random, you twit," the bottle snapped. "Maybe it's a very specific portal. I could tell you, of course, but I'm a fucking mayonnaise bottle!"
"I said I was sorry," Thomas sulked.
"'Sorry' doesn't get me back into my hardware. 'Sorry' doesn't recover my utilities. 'Sorry' doesn't clean the porno worms out of the fridge. What in Cyb's Data were you thinking?"
"She didn't *look* like a porn worm."
"She had big tits and she was smiling. At *you*. OF COURSE IT WAS A PORN WORM."
"Well, once we get to Gran's I'm sure she'll let me borrow one of her old PADs."
"She won't even let me ping once she sees me, nevermind let you put me into a piece of her hardware."
The oval shuddered.
"Shit!" Thomas hissed. "Something's coming through; act natural."
"I am almost empty!" GLiB said with excessive volume and enthusiasm. "I can't connect to the Net right now, but as soon as I can, I'll place a reorder, so you won't run out of creamy, tangy Blast Foods Mayonnaise!"
Last edited by Imagineer (2007-03-13 05:52:12)
The oval soon resolved itself into the head of Lupine. His bald head reflected the moon light that broke through the clouds lighting the surrounding forest.
"You have a lot of explaining to do Tommy boy. Your Gran is very disappointed you didn't take her up on her offer. Do you not have any loyalty to your clan?"
"Get out of my way Lupine. There are reasons I couldn't complete the job and I was heading there to let her know why."
Last edited by Storymaster69 (2007-03-13 05:56:08)
Lupine, whose real name was Lou Foley but who thought pretending to be an entire species sounded more intimidating and thus "cool", was annoyed. Who was this kid to try to push him around? He did all the pushing in these woods. "Look, kid. I don't care if you are her favorite grandson. I'm the one standing here and I want answers, dammit. And I'm not moving until you tell me why you didn't do your job and bring back some Girl Scout cookies. You know your Nan loves those Thin Mints. Even if they are patently false advertising. I mean, who ever got thin off eating that shit? You could get thinner eating crack rocks and it would be nearly as addictive. You need to tell me why you don't have the cookies, dipshit. If I don't like the answer, I'm going to make you go back and get some."
There was a sudden rush of activity to Tommy's left side. Everyone turned, even GLiB somehow managed to turn, to face the new arrivals.
"Lupine, leave him alone," Red stated with authority as she stepped out of the pumpkin carriage.
Red had a chain in her tiny hand that led back into the carriage. When she yanked on the chain, her lover, Goldie Bear, wearing nothing but a leather collar, a black satin teddy and thigh high black leather boots with a six inch heels came rushing out of the pumpkin carriage and kneeled beside her lover and master.
"Grams wants him delivered to her, immediately," Red explained then turned to her brother. "Tommy, get in the carriage. Now!"
"Since when did you start working for your grandmother?" Lupine asked, almost growling.
"I DON'T work for my Grandmother," Red shouted at Lupine. "I'm here because Gram and Tommy are the only family I've got left. Gram sent me to make sure Tommy was brought to her."
"I 'preciate you and Gram looking out for me," Tommy said, giving Lupine a "Bite-Me" Smile.
As Tommy passed her, Red turned and followed her brother, Goldie Bear following in her wake. The three stepped into the pumpkin and the footman had shut the door before Red smacked her brother upside the head. "You're an idiot!"
Last edited by Jefferson (2007-03-14 10:10:25)
The pumpkin carriage groaned as it lifted off, tilting to one side briefly (but long enough to dump Thomas in Goldie's lap) before leveling off and scooting away.
"Sorry," Thomas said, doing his best to extricate himself from the humursan's lap.
"It's okay," Goldie answered, helping him up with a meaty paw. She was used to rough treatment; in fact, she longed for it.
Most people just couldn't wrap their heads around Red and Goldie's relationship. How could a petite purebred human who scarcely weighed nine stones so thoroughly dominate a homo ursus three times her size? It had thrown Thomas too when he'd first met her. (*That* was a strange St. Spurrey's Day -- it was one thing to find out your sister was a lesbian, especially when she'd spent most of her teenage years finding ways to surreptitiously plant herself on the end of your dick; it was another thing entirely to have her introduce a twenty-six stone humursan as her girlfriend -- and yet another for that humursan to be fully shaved and wearing stiletto heels, cowering and silent at the end of a pink maribou trimmed leash.) But when he'd seen her again the next spring for Allspice Day, he'd asked Goldie what she saw in Red. (Actually, he'd asked her why someone from such a proud and powerful race would let herself be humiliated by a "selfish little bitch" -- too much grog that year.) "Everyone assumes that because I'm humursan I'm this fearsome, ill-tempered loner," Goldie had said softly. "Red's the only person who ever saw me as a beautiful flower."
Thomas looked at Goldie now -- her stretched-Budda torso, her short rounded limbs, her drawn-out snout, her tight lips ringed with ice-pink lipstick, and that ridiculous platinum-blonde mohawk, her choice of attire the polar opposite of shape-flattering -- and where most would see a humiliated and abused slave, he saw a woman who was so happy she glowed. And he knew it was because of his sister. And it almost made him regret what he was about to do.
"Hey, Goldie, want some mayo?" Goldie *loved* mayonnaise.
"You *have* some?" She turned and tugged on Red's sleeve. "Please mistress may I have some mayo?"
Red looked away from the carriage porthole, raising an eyebrow at Thomas. Why would he have mayonnaise, unless he *knew* he'd be seeing Goldie? "No."
"But mistress, I've been *so* good." Goldie didn't normally question Red's decisions... but this was *mayonnaise*.
And Red knew there was one thing you didn't deny a humursan, even a submissive love-slave humursan. Not when you were skimming the treetops in a hoverpumpkin. Not if you wanted it to stay in one piece. A humursan's restless fidgeting for mayonnaise could shake the gravidrive loose, and then they'd be pie.
"Fine," Red said, tight-lipped.
Thomas pulled GLiB out of his pocket, hoping to Heinlein that his PAD wasn't going to pick now to get even. He held it by the lid, careful to avoid Goldie's sharp nails as she swiped it hungrily. The bear-woman flicked the lid with surprising dexterity, tilted her head back, aimed the bottle for the back of her throat, and gave it an almost reverent squeeze...
"You're enjoying creamy, tangy Blast Foods Mayonnaise!" GLiB said boisterously, as a spluttering stream of gelatinous whitish goo coagulated on Goldie's shuddering tongue. She swallowed it greedily, then looked at Thomas pleadingly, hoping he would assent to her taking another squeeze. Thomas nodded, and another flatulent spray of condiment coated the appreciative humursan's long narrow mouth. After a long, slow swallow and what sounded like a post-orgasmic sigh, Goldie flipped the bottle's cap closed.
"I am almost empty!" GLiB beamed. "I can't connect to the Net right now, but as soon as I can, I'll place a reorder, so you won't run out of creamy, tangy Blast Foods Mayonnaise!"
Goldie looked like she was about to panic. "Mistress, Thomas is going to run out of mayonnaise! His bottle needs Net access right away!"
"Whatever," Red said with a wave of her hand.
"Don't worry," Thomas said very slowly and very clearly, "my bottle won't connect to anything dangerous, like a site with a *porn* *worm*." And then he pressed the cap of the squeeze bottle firmly against the acrylic plate in the armrest marked "Net access."
Nothing happened for a long moment.
And then the craft began to shudder.
The driver's voice came over the speaker. "M'lady! The navibot seems to've locked up! We're--" The speaker cut out, and then began simultaneous playback of "My Prerogative" and a wombat orgy.
"What'd you do?" Red said accusatorilationalistically.
Thomas' voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oops."
"Fuck!" Red looked out the window as the craft began to wobble.
"Now, sweet sister," Thomas said with mock affection, "tell me where we're going, or I won't tell you where to get the uninstaller."
"Are you insane?! Gram sent me to bring you to her!"
"Bullshit -- this pumpkin carriage isn't safety-coated, and Grams' house has been shrouded in acid fog since the Rolaids embargo of aught-three!"
Red just stammered incoherently for a moment. Then: "You idiot! They'll kill us!"
"There's no time! We're going to crash!"
"Didn't you spring for the microwave popcorn restraint system?"
"It comes standard, stupid, but we're over the Black Cake Forest now! Squashedes doesn't offer after-hours service out here! We'll be stuck until morning!"
"*You'll* be stuck," Thomas corrected. He tapped GLiB. "You reach Lou yet?"
"He's opening a portal as we speak."
Shit. "Tell him to wait until we land."
"But he already hit Send..."
"Who sent you?" he barked at Red, but it was too late; everything around Thomas faded to black as the portal enveloped him...
Last edited by Imagineer (2007-03-15 06:39:33)
Thomas stepped out of the portal and into what appeared to be someone's living room. There was a large, green sofa with a matching armchair, a dusty coffee table, a huge spool standing in for an end table, and ugly lamp, an old-fashioned TV, a black velvet painting of a bull fighter, and a small dragon holding a beer in one claw and a bag of crunchy fried gnome skins in the other.
The dragon looked as surprised as Thomas felt.
"Where did you ask Lou to send us?" Thomas asked GliB.
"Um, well you see," GLiB stammered, "Mr. Draco was very insistent that he wanted to meet with you."
"Daddy!" the young dragon girl yelled. "Someone is here to see you."
"Well bring him to my office!" a deep baritone voice called back. "Don't forget my beer and snacks either young lady."
"Yes dad. If you will follow me?"
Thomas followed the young girl out of the living room and into a well appointed office. Boris Draco stood up and walked around his heavy cherry wood desk. He stood well over seven feet tall with a massive chest covered by an expensive Elfin made custom suit. He held out his hand for Tommy to shake.
Thomas was just glad that Mr. Draco kept his retractable claws sheathed as his massive hand enveloped Tommy's. The girl put the beer bottle and bag of gnome skins on the desk. "Tommy, would you like Mimmie to bring you anything? Would you like a beer too?"
"A beer would be fine Mr. Draco."
"Thomas. You don't have to call me Mr. Draco. Call me Boris. If we are going to work together I don't want all this formality to get in the way."
Thomas wanted to take GLiB and toss him into the fire place that had a blaze keeping out the winter chill from the room. What the fuck has GLiB got me into this time? Thomas thought to himself. We are going to have to have a long talk about information sharing.
Last edited by Storymaster69 (2007-03-17 05:12:59)
Red growled out loud when Tommy vanished from the hover carriage. She slammed the button on the side of the carriage to speak to the footman controlling the thing. "Where are we? How long before we arrive?"
"Another two minutes, Ms. Red."
She closed the channel without another word and turned to Goldie. "You realize I'm never going to hear the end of this? Gram is going yell at me all night long for this one." Red took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She sat back in the luxurious seat and closed her eyes.
Unseen by Red, Goldie smiled. 'I'll have lots to report to my father tonight,' she thought to herself. 'lots and lots to report.'
Goldie waited outside Gram's room while Red went in to tell her the bad news. When she heard Gram's voice yelling and something break against a wall, Goldie knew it was safe.
She loped off down the hall and into the small private room that Gram kept for her there. When Red had first brought Goldie home and introduced her to Gram, Gram wasn't happy. Gram was looking forward to Red giving her lots and lots of little red-headed grandchildren. As long as Red stuck with female lovers, grandchildren simply were not in the picture without some kind of magical influence.
The fact that Goldie was a humursan made it that much worse and the fact that she was the adopted daughter of Gram's arch-rival, Papa Bear, was the topping on the cake. Since then, at Red's insistence and with Goldie doing a lot of ass kissing, Gram had grown rather fond of Goldie.
Goldie went to the bed and pulled out the small suitcase that held her few belongings. She set it on the bed and opened it. From a hidden compartment she pulled a mirror. "Mirror, mirror, I need to talk to my Dad. Please connect me, make me glad." Goldie rolled her eyes. She hated that these damn magic mirrors required a rhyme in order to work.
The face of her father, known to the world simply as Papa Bear, appeared on the screen. "Goldie," he growled. "I thought you were with Red tonight. Why are you risking contact?"
"I am with Red, Papa, but I have exciting news. Tommy is back in town. Red volunteered us to go pick him up."
"So, he's back?" Papa Bear said, a sadistic smile crossing his face. "Your brother still goes on and on about what Tommy did to him two years ago. Is he with Gram now?"
"No Papa. We found him but he had a mayonaise jar with him and they teleported away."
"A mayonaise jar?" Papa bear asked, completely confused.
Goldie could hear footsteps coming up the steps. "I've got to hurry Papa, someone's coming. He teleported away, Papa. From the sound of it, he isn't looking forward to meeting with his grandmother either. Red doesn't know where he went and he gave no indication."
"You've done well, Goldie. Call again when it's safe."
"I will Papa. I love you." She stuffed the mirror back into her bag, closed it and shoved it back under the bed. The bedroom door opened just as Goldie turned to the door.
"You sent him where?"
"Boris Draco's," Lou said again. "GLiB just wasn't gonna be talked out of it."
Grams shook her head. "If I've told Thomas once I've told him a thousand times, those intuition-enhanced PADs are nothing but trouble," she muttered. But Thomas wasn't her biggest problem -- not by a long shot. "Did they tell you who my granddaughter's working with?"
"Nah, an' I don't think the kid knows. Goldie neither, for what it's worth."
"She's sweet for a humursan, but none too bright." Grams sighed. "Where's Red now?"
"As soon as I pulled Thomas, they took off south, through the purple rain. I expected 'em to crash on account of the porn worm; GLiB musta done a snapshot 'n' rollback. I think he's soft on Goldie."
Grams shook her head again. "Thomas has let it run so long without a reset it thinks it's a person. We're going to have to watch that one."
"No, Thomas. --You've done well, Lupine." It was a stupid affectation, but Grams knew the portalian liked it, and Grams needed him now more than ever. "See what you can find on Red. She's a conniving little bitch, but she wouldn't dare cross me on her own. I need to know who's pulling her strings."
"Yes ma'am. What about Thomas?"
"Boris is anything but subtle; I'm sure whatever set that PAD off will make itself known soon. --Oh, Thomas didn't happen to have any Thin Mints, did he?"
"If he did, I woulda smelt 'em."
"Shoot." Gram took a deep breath. She was starting to really feel it now. If she didn't get a Thin Mint soon...
Meanwhile, in Wibbly-Wobbly Land, Bobby Wobbly had a problem. The lawn gnomes were out of Girl Scout cookies and the last supply truck had been hijacked. The Thin Mints, Samoas, and Tagalongs had probably gotten snapped up on the black market with the lesser varieties gobbled down as bribes. The next, more heavily-guarded, cookie truck, wasn't scheduled to be delivered until next Friday. But Bobby Wobbly only had two cartons of cookies to divide among the 600 sweet-addicted statuettes in his employ. Even if he stretched it as far as possible and dispensed a stingy cookie a day per worker, he'd still be out of cookies by the day after tomorrow. Bobby Wobbly knew that with a situation like that, he was looking to have a riot on his cardboard-thin hands before the day was over. Everyone knew that you didn't deprive the lawn gnomes of their sugar, they got mean. So now the question was, where was he going to get some more fucking cookies before the gnomes wrecked the Wibbly-Wobbly Widget Warehouse?
Instead of tossing the mayo jar into the fire, Thomas slipped GLiB into the cargo pocket of his dockers, GLiB's normal storage area, and took a seat in front of Boris' massive desk.
Boris circled back around the desk and retook his place behind it. Mimmie gave Thomas a final smile, which looked more like a snarl on her, turned and practically skipped out of the room.
"So Tommy, how's the old lady?"
"I wouldn't know, sir. It's been a few weeks since I spoke to her last. Before I quit school I believe."
"Quit school, did you? Can't imagine she'll be real happy about that one."
"That's why I haven't spoken to her," Tommy replied with a smile.
Boris didn't speak. He just sat there, leaning back and stared at Tommy for a long moment.
"GLiB said you were rather insistent on seeing me. Was there something specific you wished to talk about?" Tommy asked, feeling right uncomfortable beneath the large dragon's stare.
"I just wanted to catch up with my favorite God-son. Is that so bad? Now, how's your bitch sister? She still with that bear slut?"
Tommy choked down a laugh. He didn't think anyone in the world had such a low opinion of Red and Goldie, and Red and Goldie together, as he did but from the sound of it, Boris didn't much like them either.
As for Boris being his God-father. That was a fact that both did their best to keep hidden from the rest of the world. It had come about because Grandpa, who had run the family 'til his death, was trying to get in "tight" with Boris and his clan. The deal had fallen through but not until after Boris was named Tommy's God-father.
"My bitch sister, in fact, is part of the reason I ended up here. and yes, she's still with the bear slut. Sir, I'm sorry to keep bringing this up but you're a very busy being. I just can't believe you brought me here to discuss my family and my future. I'm very curious..."
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Boris said throwing his head back in frustration. "If there is one thing I could teach you, it would be patience. You must learn to play the game." Boris took a deep breath. Tommy flinched, seriously afraid he was about to be fried where he sat but no flames were forthcoming. Boris let out the breath slowly then looked at Tommy.
"Very well, we'll get on with it."
If ony Amelia knew what was about to happen upstairs, she wouldn't be sitting around listening to those pointy, pointy words. She would, in fact, cower in terror at the sharp, sticky feeling of evil enveloping the air.
As the dragon's blood mingled with Tommy's own mage-blood, the ceiling started to collapse; unable to withstand the strange air currents brought about by a portal of great strength and distance. Tommy looked straight at his god father: "say goodbye to my gran, and knock my sister upside the head for me won't you?" Then turning he had time for one last thought: Ironically it was 'why, oh why, didn't I take the *blue* pill!'
When the chuckling teen stepped through that dark portal an implosion occured- closing the portal faster than the speed of thought. It wasn't the implosion that killed the middle-aged dragon and his daughter. It was the explosion of good coming from a distinct lack of evil in the air.
Worlds away, Tom brushed himself off and looked up into the eyes of a newt. 'True,' he reasoned, 'a six foot tall newt, but still a newt.' The words rang out clearly, each cementing themselves in Tom's mind before he heard them: "You, humans, what's you doing in this places?"
Damn, thought Tommy. I'm in the wrong place, the old dragon died for nothing, of course he new it would kill the old geezer, that was the only reason he'd actually agreed to building and going through the supper portal. But for all, that he was in the wrong stinking, literally, place. Well to be honest he replied to the newt I must have taken a wrong turn at Alberkerky, could you please tell me were I am? I just want to get back into another portal and be on my way. it's always a good idea to be polite to the six foot tall newts, they're known to have a short temper.
Last edited by Bd.Carlo (2010-05-07 16:57:36)