Small Talk

As I went into the office today, as usual I engaged with some small talk with the person I was about to relieve for the night.  As usual, they said almost nothing, seemingly emanating waves of resentment my way.  The latter might just be me, but the strangeness of the situation suddenly occurred to me.  You see, I am not a very social person.  I know, you no doubt just gasped in shock, thinking, “What?  A Fantasy author isn’t a social butterfly?  Egads!”

No, no; I can admit it.  I’m a bit reticent … oh, and let me know if you actually thought egads, let me know in the comments or in a response, or in whatever blogger has for this sort of thing, as you are awesome. Thing is, I always felt out of place when I was growing up.  Again, I know: “Shock!” Still, it seemed that no matter how hard I tried to fit in, I never found a place.  Even with the outsiders of the school, I felt like an outsider.  I’m not crying Aspergers or anything, but social interaction’s just something I don’t think I’ve ever understood.  Well, that, or I went to school with a bunch of pricks; sadly, I have far too much evidence from years of bullying to discount that one. Still, it wasn’t until my senior year that I realized that I was trying too hard, and just stopped giving a damn.  

Even afterwards, however, befriending other people mystified me. I never had a proper girlfriend, though I do feel that somewhat due to the mysterious disappearance of Bridget Cunningham (no, she didn’t disappear; she just moved away.  I was still in junior high, though, so she might as well dropped off the planet …but that’s a blog for later). Even just trying to make friends, normal friends, proved a daunting task.  To this day, I can name on one hand the people I consider true friends, people who I can hang out with who don’t make me feel like some awkward hanger-on. Small surprise, each of them has a surrogate in A Dreamer’s Knight.  Max Wingate, Jude Chaisson, Morgan James, Matthew Crumpler, Naomi Fultz, and yes, Bridget Cunningham.Everyone else?  Just someone I hung out around, never feeling like I was hanging out with them. It was almost like there was some manual on social interaction that everyone else seemed to get, that I just missed at some point.

So how is it that I come into work, and find myself the talkative one?  I didn’t magically become an extrovert, did I?  No, I think the reason is a lot simpler than that. Somewhere along the way, I learned to act like a ‘normal’ person, to make a little small talk so that people around me were more comfortable. I’m still the same introvert, I just find myself around those who haven’t or just won’t adapted in the same way … and that’s fine.  I hate talking, even in the polite sense, and would rather just quietly change shifts, especially with people like the one I relieved tonight.  I’m not joking about the strange air of resentment; I get that from a few of my coworkers, a feeling like they just can’t stand me, but some shred of politeness keeps them from just blurting it out … or worse, that they think talking to me is somehow beneath them.  

Y’know what, though? That’s okay too. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that there are some people who just aren’t cut out to be friends.  Call it social differences or attitude, or the fact that some people are just jerks.  Hell, call me a jerk; I’ll admit it, I’m not always the nicest person to be around, though I do try to maintain a pleasant demeanor these days. Well, more pleasant anyway.  So in the future, if you meet me and I simply smile and move on, don’t take offense. I’m not necessarily avoiding conversation; I’m just avoiding making small talk just to feel I’ve filled my social quota for the day.

Alan T. Tryth, bullying, social interaction, small talk, introvert, jerks, conversation, ramblings

A Cut Thread

My ability to write has always been rather fluid in nature. When I have a good grasp of the story thread I want to tell, I can just hold on and follow it, and the words will just come to me.  It can feel a little spooky at first; sometimes, I wonder if I’m truly writing, or just recording an alternate reality I can just barely sense (which, if I’ve ever roped you into a conversation about the Unending Cycle of Creation, you will no doubt recognize as a key component of that belief). 

Sometimes, however, I'll come to a near or complete halt. Progress through the chapter will be slow and not very satisfying; like a nice sandwich that you microwave and eat, only to discover it's still stone cold in the middle. Sorry; I haven't had breakfast yet ... but you know what I mean.  In my experience, however, this isn't actually writer's block, but a sign that I didn't properly follow the story.  I wandered off and got lost in some possible thread that I subconsciously realize will ultimately go nowhere or just won't work. 

When facing this situation, I've discovered only one effective method of dealing with it; deleting the entire chapter and starting again.  Yes, even if I like part of the chapter.  Yes, even if it took days to write the chapter.  A dead story thread isn't going to please anybody; the reader or the writer, so I just suck it up and delete the chapter, two chapters if it's a particularly brutal situation ... and you know what?  I have always found the new chapter to be better.  I'm not saying it'll work for everyone, but hey; give it a try if you're stuck.  

The Last Piece, an Elsewhere Tale

Ready for another short story?  Well, too bad!  You're getting one anyway. -Alan T. Tryth

The Last Piece

An Elsewhere Tale

The puppet-lord hung in the air like a marionette, his arms moving jerkily as though controlled by one not accustomed to their manipulation. Once fair and even handsome in a cold way, the puppet-lord’s corpse was now bloated and covered with cracks that showed nothing but darkness beneath the creature’s skin. Rows upon rows of needle-like teeth were bared as the horrible creature snarled at the intrepid heroes who faced it.

“Kinda funny, isn’t it?” One shouted over the hiss of stream steam that filled the chamber.“Mister ‘I manipulate the strings of fate’ ending up as the biggest puppet of them all.”

“Yeah, really poetic.” The elvish sorceress said through clenched teeth, her crystal staff exuding a purple-tinged glow that enveloped her and her companions. She flinched as the puppet-lord’s engorged hand slammed against the magic shield. “Any chance you can hurry up and think of a way to kill the bastard?”

“Working on it.” One peered through the flames filling the chamber with difficulty.  The blue-green streams of steam energy escaping from seams in multiple pipes hinted that the stream generator was about to become an issue. He considered using this to his advantage, but decided against it; the stream generator was directly beneath the city’s busiest district; if it went, a sizable chunk of the city would be going with it, to say nothing of his companions, Lena and Gregor.

He glanced at the short form of Gregor, who was busily digging through his backpack, presumably for some artifact or object that might give them a way out.  While the young archivist had managed some impressive feats, One feared nothing in the fellow’s bag would be enough.

It was a shame; One had enjoyed the assignment.  Gregor was a jolly fellow who never let his dwarfism inhibit him in anything he did, even his repeated attempts to woo the sorceress Lena.  Lena was quite a refreshing change from the usual archetype as well; she hadn’t questioned him in the slightest, even after his slip up in the Boverstall Marketplace.  She knew he was something more than a simple traveler, and had accurately guessed his presence had something to do with her and Gregor’s mission to stop the puppet king.

The three of them had made quite the team; Lena’s magic, Gregor’s strange affinity with anomalous artifacts, and One’s technical and Elsewhere know-how brought them past the gates of the Locked City, into the puppet-king’s throne, and now directly fighting to save the fates of thousands.

There was one thing he could do; invoking his Anti-ka Maru would leave him powerless for awhile, but would give him the strength to defeat the creature and save his friends. That was a last-ditch option, however, and he wouldn’t go that far unless he was certain there was no other way.

That’s when he saw it; the beast passed through a spray of stream escaping from the pipes, and as it did so, One saw the escaping stream follow; it wasn’t mere coincidence; the foul thing was absorbing it, growing stronger as it pulled more of the stream into itself.

Lena must’ve noticed it as well, as she soon shouted, “The generator!  It’s absorbing the energy!  If we shut it off-”

“-it might starve the damn thing!”Gregor finished.  

“Guys, hurry!” Lena said, visibly struggling to maintain the protective field.  

Unfortunately, it was too late; the puppet king brought both fists down on the magical bubble with enough force to shatter it and slam into the ground with enough force to knock Lena, Gregor, and One off their feet. It approached Lena, its twisted body crouched low and its maw open as though to devour her whole.

“Oy, Ugly!” As the creature turned, Gregor leapt onto the Puppet King’s gangly neck and pulled his now-empty backpack over the monster’s head. The puppet king roared and staggered away from Lena, its arms sweeping in vain as the elven sorceress moved out of its range.  

“One!” Gregor shouted, “Go for the console!  I’ll keep it busy!”

Nodding, One powered up his tek-boots and dashed toward the generator’s controls, narrowly ducking under another sweep of the puppet-king’s claws.

Leaping over the railing surrounding the controls, he scanned the console briefly before finding the emergency deactivation button.  As he raised his hand, however, another hand slapped over red plunger, sending a loud warning klaxon echoing through the chamber. One barely had time to register the smile on the face of Narrator Number Two before the stream generator rumbled to a halt, the steam escaping from the pipes ceasing a few moments later.

The puppet king turned toward the generator, no doubt sensing the loss of its power source.  It staggered in the direction of the generator, despite the fact that Gregor still had his bag over its head.  It fought to throw him off as it walked but only managed to injure itself as its limbs crashed into the metal pipes that formerly carried stream energy across the city.

Without the stream energy, the creature’s limbs grew thinner by the moment.  It eventually managed to drag Gregor off its shoulders and hurled him to the ground, prompting a panicked cry from Lena. With a final anguished roar, it took a step toward the fallen man, only for its spindly legs to shatter under the force.  It collapsed on top of Gregor in a broken heap that wheezed for a few moments before finally lying still.

“Gregor!” Without a second glance at Two, One leapt from the console platform and hurried over to his friend.  He hefted the corpse of the puppet king off the ground and tossed it aside as Lena knelt beside Gregor, her hand on the side of his neck.

“His pulse is strong.” She said, worry in her delicate features.  She leaned down and held her ear over his mouth, only for him to swiftly kiss her on the cheek. Relief mingled with annoyance on her delicate features, Lena sat up and slapped Gregor’s cheek. 

“Totally worth it.” The little man said, grinning from ear to reddened ear as One helped him up.

They stared at the corpse of the puppet king for a long moment before Gregor asked, “So … that’s it?”

“I guess so.” Lena said uncertainly. “We already destroyed the artifact that turned him into this.  With the puppet king himself dead, all held in thrall should be free.”

More silence followed.  “Seems like there should be, I dunno, more fanfare.” Gregor said, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean, we just saved the city, didn’t we?”

“Perhaps a parade is what you desire?” Lena asked, a kind smile on her face. “Our actions today have left the world a better place.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gregor said, “And I’m glad, really.  He needed to be stopped before anyone else was hurt. I just …”

To his surprise, she knelt down and brought his face to hers. One couldn’t help but smile as his two friends kissed. He had long suspected that Lena was harboring some affection for Gregor, and Gregor had been all too willing to confide in One about his feelings for her.

When they released, Gregor gulped and said weakly, “Does this mean you’ll go out on a date with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, little man.” She walked toward the heavy iron doors that led out of the chamber for a few moments before adding, “Yet.”

“All right.” Gregor said, snapping back to his usual cheery self, “C’mon, One! Let’s go get something to eat.”

“I’ll catch up with you later.” One said, patting Gregor on the shoulder.  

Beaming, Gregor jogged after Lena, unaware of the envelope One had just stuck on his back. One hated drawn out goodbyes, and figured the two had plenty to talk about on their own without him hanging around.

Shaking away the light feeling of Story’s End, One walked back to the generator’s control console, where Two was waiting.

“Well look who finally decided to show up.” One said, his hands on his hips. “Are you just bored, or did you run out of prostitutes?”

“Of course not. There’s no upper limit on debauchery, man.” Two glanced at his watch. “That reminds me; I’ve got an appointment in about an hour.  I’ll spare you the details. Wanna get something to eat before then to celebrate me successfully completing this assignment?”

“Your successfully completing this assignment?” One said, unable to believe what he was hearing, “You disappeared months ago!  We hadn’t even met Gregor yet!”

“Ah, but I pushed the emergency shutdown button.” Two said, cracking his knuckles.  “Not too shabby, eh?”

“You pushed it a second before I could.” One said, his eyes narrowing.

Two shrugged. “I was still first, which means that I saved the day and deserve all the credit for the assignment. See?”

Two held out his cellphone; on the screen was a chart displaying Dreamers and their completed assignments. One, who didn’t particular pay attention to the completion chart, was startled to see his own bar surprisingly low, while Two’s bar was quite high. It didn’t take long to put the pieces together.

“Flipping the switch on Trask.” One said as realization stole over him, “Closing the valve on Algos, stopping traffic in Masske.  You’ve been taking all the credit for all the assignments we’ve worked on just because you did the last task?”

“Hey, relax, One!” Two said smoothly. “We can’t all be the best.”

One could only glare at his partner for a few moments as the CPD formed on the nearby wall. 

As they started for the door, Two put his arm around One’s shoulders and said, “Besides, it’s not about who gets the credit; it’s about helping people.  At the end of the day, you’ve made the universe a better place, and that’s what’s truly important.”

“Get stuffed, Two.” One said as they passed through the doorway.

Late Night Ramblings

It's nice to take a break.  I've been pushing myself to finish Mass Effect Slipstream II - The Life of One, since I'm only a few chapters away from finishing, but I promised myself I wouldn't work on the weekends.  I do that all week; the least I can do is give myself a few days off to goof around.

My roommate's cats are swirling around my ankles, looking for attention (or food, more likely). I'm a bit hungry myself, but I'm gonna at least finish this before I go fishing around for something.

I really don't know what to do with myself.  I could play minecraft, I suppose; I've been recreating the Elsewhere Mansion on the excellent Vox Populi server, starting with one of the larger floors, The Library.  Fortunately, I have a template to work from, as I built it in single player creative previously.

It took ages in creative, as each floor is a maze complete with secret paths in some of the shelves that sometimes reach into other floors, so you can imagine how hard it is to recreate in survival.

Quartz and leather take time to collect, but I'm in no hurry.

I usually work on it while listening to Drunk Minecraft episodes, though sometimes hearing the inevitable explosions from youtube can cause me a bit of in-game anxiety. Vox Populi hosts three worlds: diamond, emerald, and gold (I'm on diamond), and there is plenty to do if you're looking for a server on which to play.

Not sure if I really want to do that, though. I'm kinda wanting to go look up the more recent Evil Dead movie; with a new one on the way, I've been meaning to give that one a watch. I've finally broken down and signed up for netflix, so there are a ton of shows there I'm wanting to watch (recently, I've been watching a lot of Columbo. There's a Dreamer if I ever saw him.  It never gets old watching criminals completely discount him as a threat, only to stumble head-long into the trap. 

Oh well. Just a note; I'll probably start divvying up the posts; Elsewhere every other day, with other posts being small reviews and thoughts on things I feel have an element of Dreamer to them.  I have a few more short stories too, and I'm hoping to be able to write some more, perhaps even enough to fill out another book.

I'm gonna go get myself a sandwich. You folks have a nice night, okay?

The Secret Project (and 'Fifty Bucks', a short tale of the Elsewhere Incorporate)

Phhb.  I'm not telling you about the secret project.  It's a secret!  Seriously, why would I even call it that if I was about to just blab about it like that?

I'll say this much; it is a horror story with comedic overtones, features Wong Fo-lee and Alan T. Tryth as key Dreamers, and the main character is a youtuber of some reknown.  Squirrels might be involved.  I'll likely start working on this more heavily as Halloween gets closer, as it is a halloween kind of tale.

But enough about that!  Prepare to enjoy a bite-sized portion of Dreamer Whimsy!

 ------------------------------------

Fifty Bucks

By Michael James Wilbur

It was a time of great excitement for the Kingdom of Nulandia. The people rejoiced across the cities in honor of their new King, His Majesty Penderbrast the First.  While tankards of ale were raised in honor of the young king in bars and pubs across the kingdom, the grandest celebration was in Altrust Castle, where the King was being coronated.

The two Narrators of the Elsewhere Incorporate watched in silence as the prince knelt before the priestess.  Neither One nor Two cared much for the religious passages; nothing puts the kibosh on theological thinking more than actually meeting a few gods and goddesses … or devils, for that matter, but that’s a tale for another day.

As the priestess placed the royal crown on the prince’s head, One said, “I have to admit, you did a good job.”

Two said nothing.  He merely stood there with a grin that would unnerve a Cheshire cat.

Evidently feeling that some dialogue was necessary, One said, “I guess Teach can’t say you never do any work now, huh? Speaking of which, where is our benevolent leader?”

Two pointed at the front row of the crowd, where the elder Dreamer sat with his wife, Karma. Both were in fancy dress, as befitting a royal ceremony, and were among the first to clap when the king sat down on his throne.  One and Two clapped as well, though One’s was out of politeness.  He had nothing to do with the assignment, and didn’t know much about the people involved.

After a few moments, King Penderbrast rose to his feet.  The clapping rose briefly before it finally dying down. Once the room was more or less silent, King Penderbrast made a great show of clearing his throat.

“People of Nulandia,” He said, his voice booming out across the throne room, “Friends, noblemen and women, and visitors from afar, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here today. Too long have the people of this fine country suffered under the injustice of King Tagmar.  It is with the help of many here in this room that now I stand here, the true king of this land … and as King, I pledge to protect the people of this fine nation, to ease the burden of the poor and destitute, and open friendly relations with our neighboring countries. No more futile wars, no more excessive taxes, no more intolerance of the beliefs of others, this I promise you on the blood of my father, King Jenner the Just!”

More applause filled the rooms.  As they applauded as well, One said, “I read Alan’s report.  He really is going to usher in a new age of light for these people. All thanks to you.”

Two’s smile widened slightly, but he said nothing.

When the room quieted down again, the King said, “Before we go to the celebratory feast, there is one person I need to thank.  He stood by me when my quest seemed impossible.  He was there when everyone else had turned on me. He even introduced me to Lady Talmere, my friend and companion through these many adventures.  She has taught me much about the strength of women I took for granted for so long, and I am honored and overjoyed to announce that she has agreed to become my queen.”

Some applause broke out, as well as some light tittering from some of the noblewomen. The tall, dark-skinned woman in plate mail standing beside the kind bowed her head, her cheeks even darker than the rest of her and a happy smile on her face as the King took her armored hand in his.  

“Cute couple.” One said, clapping. “Not only did you knock out a ‘Save the King’ job, you even squeezed in a ‘Cupid’s Arrow’.”

Again, Two said nothing.  There was something disconcerting about his smile; One remembered seeing a similar look in his friend’s face before falling victim to one of Two’s elaborate practical jokes.  He still couldn’t look at a banana without shuddering.

“That man, that angel who appeared to me in my time of need, is here with us today.  James?”

“That’s my cue.” Two said, straightening shirt. His chest puffed out, Two strode through the throne room, seemingly oblivious to the curious stares of the other guests.

Both the king and his future queen were smiling as Two approached the throne room.  Never one for protocol, he stood a few steps down from the king with his hands in the pockets of his old jeans and waited with the same strange smile on his face.

“Sir James of Bridges,” King Penderbrast said, “I … nay, this entire country owes you a great debt of gratitude.  Tell me, what can I possibly offer to repay you?”

Still smiling, Two said, “Only what you promised.”

To the surprise of many, the honorable and just king’s expression faltered. “Er, I could offer you all the riches you can carry, artifacts of power long kept safe in this kingdom.”

“Money I don’t need, and I’m pretty happy with the power I’ve already got.”

“I would make you a duke of the kingdom.”

“Tempting, but I really would rather not get tied to any one place.”

“I, er, could speak with my sister.”

“I beg pardon?” said a rather pretty and well-endowed young lady in the front row.

Two’s eyes rested on her for a moment. “Tempting, but I’m afraid I have to decline. All I ask is what you promised me when our adventure started.”

There were quite a few curious glances coming from the crowd at this point, including those of Teach and Karma. Even Lady Talmere was raising an eyebrow at Two.

After visibly struggling for a few moments, the king finally let out a resigned sigh. “I wished to reward you better, but if that is all you desire, I will honor my promise.”

Two nodded his head, knelt down, and promptly punched King Penderbrast, the king who would usher in an age of peace and light, squarely in his groin.  

The King fell to his knees, gasping in pain as Two stood back, an amused look in his face.  Her face contorted in anger, Lady Talmere took a step forward only for the king’s hand to rise, stopping her. 

“I gave my word.” He wheezed before looking at Two. “Our debt is paid?”

“Yup.  I’m done here.  Later.”

As Lady Talmere helped her future husband to rise, Two turned to what was now his audience and approached the still-seated Teach and Karma. 

Teach crossed his legs as Two came to stand before him. “Two, what the hell are-“

Two’s hand shot out, beckoning. “Pay up.”

Teach stared up at Two dumbfounded, eventually managing to say, “What?”

“Remember when you dragged me out to deal with that mad king on Vinta?  I told you I’d punch the bastard in the grundies, and you laughed and told me you’d pay me fifty bucks if I punched any king in the balls and walked away without a problem.”

Horror dawned in Teach’s eyes. “That was three-hundred years ago!”

“Yeah, well, you never put a time limit on it.”

“He offered you all the treasure you could carry!”

“Which I declined so that I could take fifty dollars from you.  Now are you gonna pay up or not?”

Teach stared at Two, seemingly lost for words. Two waggled his eyebrows at the elder Dreamer and rubbed the fingers and thumb of his outstretched hand together meaningfully.

His face red, Teach grumbled beneath his breath as he fished the wallet out of the pocket of his expensive suit. There was definite anger in his eyes as he counted out five ten-dollar bills and laid them in the patiently waiting Two’s outstretched palm.

“Thank you!” Two said, his voice cheery as his hand closed around the money. Oblivious to the angry stares of one, the confused looks from the nobles, and the pained (and yet slightly amused) look of King Penderbrast, Two walked back to where One was watching in utter amazement.

“Wanna go get something to eat?” Two asked brightly as he waved his handful of bills. “My treat.”