Re: The Fearsome Encounter (GBS3G8) [Round 1: Circumlocution]
03-09-2012, 09:05 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
[1]
Ms. Archer hummed with satisfaction, and placed the transcript back on the top of the pile. For an inaugural meeting, she thought it had gone rather well.
Her elegant form - just disproportionate enough to seem some artist's statement to the world - was neatly arranged upon a slowly spinning executive chair, pecking diligently away at nonexistent keyboards and sorting through nonexistent dossiers. Everything - from the desk to the screens to the vaguely-proportioned, cavernous room in which she had centred herself - was a mere facade, and none of it even particularly necessary to help her personally keep her thoughts in order. No, what the "office" accorded was isolation - reprieve from the jabber and squwaks of Parliament's flock.
There was a knock, an artificial noise steeped in good manners which only happened because both parties had agreed it should've been there. Ms. Archer made no motion in particular to invite them in. Something vaguely troglodytic and heavyset marched through what the secretary had been beginning to envision was a wall. She'd have to work on that.
By the standards of his own people, Bal-Bad-Chief-of-Hillpits was certainly evil. Ms. Archer was one of those quiet admirers of Lord Avery for his unwavering ability over the years to never compare villain with villain. (She also admired him because of a few lines of script internally maintaining that power was sexy, but that wasn't anything pathological. Ms. Archer applied it as much to herself.) Bal had been accorded any power in Parliament's developing heirarchy mostly because of his stupidity, and of a background culture that clearly hadn't discovered what condescension was. Ms. Archer had, at some point in her suddenly-hectic schedule, appointed him her assistant. The lost time on conveying missives clearly enough that Bal wouldn't stuff them up was more than saved in time not having to watch her own back.
"Lunches back from outside."
"... LUNCHES?"
"Luh- Luuuuh-"
"<font size="1">LUCHESSE."
"Lunches," Bal confirmed, nodding vigorously. The secretary was immeasurably grateful that Avery's translators worked on the brute's bastard equivalent of language at all. The idiot Marshal was making quite the spectacle in the interim, him and his loud mouth and laughable attempts to take charge threatening to tear down everything the Parliamentarians had worked so hard for.
Ms. Archer sighed, stretching langurous across her desk and switching on the PA. It was her new favourite acquisition, and she was so pleased that nobody important had disagreed with her very important need for it.
"I AM CALLING ANOTHER MEETING. ALL INDIVIDUALS TOO APATHETIC TO AID IN THE RUNNING OF THIS CESSPIT MAY NOW PROCEED TO WITTER LESS INTRUSIVELY."
A few individuals filed "in", some newcomers not looking too sure what to do with the new architecture. She shooed Bal (lovely, stupid brute) off to tell them what was what, before they could go sullying the place up with their own misconceptions. Reynard had already dragged everyone's favourite idiot marshal in, which left little choice but to kick off the negotiations again.
[2]
-------
The book and the birdcage had finally taken their leave of the rest of the fighters, the latter strolling through dappled undergrowth while Encyclopedia hovered sedately above. The Sade, as the trumpeter swan liked to be called in a less feathered past life, was too busy pretending to be offended at the fact Vex didn't know him, to give a straight answer as to where his coin had gone. The dull whumpfs of the fish-owl's wingbeats could be periodically heard, where Luchesse continued his solitary patrols from bough to bough like a self-officious ghost.
"hare you habsolutely sure your book hmmakes no mehntion hoff me, Mister hArdayne?"
Encyclopedia had, as a matter of fact. Vex had taken one metaphorical faceful of information, and promptly done his best to think about something else. </font>"No," sighed Vex, "it doesn't."
"Hmph. hLet me take a look-"
"Cut that out!" snapped the Archivist. The swan had rather ineffectually got its beak clamped on one of Encyclopedia's corners, and judging by its irked stomping was trying to pin it under its feet.
"Sade." The red junglefowl's hooded eyes were black and glistening with contempt for all living things. It said something to the swan; Vex, unable to understand a word, made the most of the Sade's divided attention to fly out of reach again. The bright-plumed creature at Parliament's feet inclined its head a little, then vanished. The swan was making good to leave, and Vex so no harm in reminding the "ambassador" what sort of ambassadorings he could be doing.
"Oi. Sade. Stop swanning around-" -oh you had to be kidding- "and check with your buddies if you have. My damn. Coin. Got it?"
The swan glanced up at Encyclopedia, and blew him a kiss on a wingtip. Vex shuddered.
"hOnly because <font size="1">hit's you, my little love letter."
Luchesse cruised downward through the dissipating swan, snapping the neck on an unsolicited tinamou who had apparently just come out for some fresh air. He settled on a branch, appraising Encyclopedia.</font>
"Are all of you as fucked up as that swan? What about you? What'd you do to end up there with him?" The marshal cocked his head a little, then seemed to catch himself doing birdly things and ruffled his feathers self-consciously.
"I've barely a clue what those slimy little politicians are getting up to in there. From all I comprehend, they're futzing around trying to decide how their meeting hall looks. Waste of time, if you ask me."
"We can hear you, y'self-righteous cockmongler," added Skinner the lorikeet, perched as he was upon Parliament's shoulder. "Or did yer forget the rest of us have to sit in there listening to yer fuckin' monologuising?"
Vex was pleased - in a bittersweet sort of way - to find his own mental visualisations let him apply fingers to exasperated bridge of his nose, and pinch it until the two birds stopped screaming at each other. Encyclopedia itself was no help - while it could recall several noted polyglots from the course of his universe's history, it lacked any capacity as a translator.
Which meant the lunatic swan was his only port of call to get any sense out of the flock. Fan-fucking-tastic.
[1]
Ms. Archer hummed with satisfaction, and placed the transcript back on the top of the pile. For an inaugural meeting, she thought it had gone rather well.
Her elegant form - just disproportionate enough to seem some artist's statement to the world - was neatly arranged upon a slowly spinning executive chair, pecking diligently away at nonexistent keyboards and sorting through nonexistent dossiers. Everything - from the desk to the screens to the vaguely-proportioned, cavernous room in which she had centred herself - was a mere facade, and none of it even particularly necessary to help her personally keep her thoughts in order. No, what the "office" accorded was isolation - reprieve from the jabber and squwaks of Parliament's flock.
There was a knock, an artificial noise steeped in good manners which only happened because both parties had agreed it should've been there. Ms. Archer made no motion in particular to invite them in. Something vaguely troglodytic and heavyset marched through what the secretary had been beginning to envision was a wall. She'd have to work on that.
By the standards of his own people, Bal-Bad-Chief-of-Hillpits was certainly evil. Ms. Archer was one of those quiet admirers of Lord Avery for his unwavering ability over the years to never compare villain with villain. (She also admired him because of a few lines of script internally maintaining that power was sexy, but that wasn't anything pathological. Ms. Archer applied it as much to herself.) Bal had been accorded any power in Parliament's developing heirarchy mostly because of his stupidity, and of a background culture that clearly hadn't discovered what condescension was. Ms. Archer had, at some point in her suddenly-hectic schedule, appointed him her assistant. The lost time on conveying missives clearly enough that Bal wouldn't stuff them up was more than saved in time not having to watch her own back.
"Lunches back from outside."
"... LUNCHES?"
"Luh- Luuuuh-"
"<font size="1">LUCHESSE."
"Lunches," Bal confirmed, nodding vigorously. The secretary was immeasurably grateful that Avery's translators worked on the brute's bastard equivalent of language at all. The idiot Marshal was making quite the spectacle in the interim, him and his loud mouth and laughable attempts to take charge threatening to tear down everything the Parliamentarians had worked so hard for.
Ms. Archer sighed, stretching langurous across her desk and switching on the PA. It was her new favourite acquisition, and she was so pleased that nobody important had disagreed with her very important need for it.
"I AM CALLING ANOTHER MEETING. ALL INDIVIDUALS TOO APATHETIC TO AID IN THE RUNNING OF THIS CESSPIT MAY NOW PROCEED TO WITTER LESS INTRUSIVELY."
A few individuals filed "in", some newcomers not looking too sure what to do with the new architecture. She shooed Bal (lovely, stupid brute) off to tell them what was what, before they could go sullying the place up with their own misconceptions. Reynard had already dragged everyone's favourite idiot marshal in, which left little choice but to kick off the negotiations again.
[2]
-------
The book and the birdcage had finally taken their leave of the rest of the fighters, the latter strolling through dappled undergrowth while Encyclopedia hovered sedately above. The Sade, as the trumpeter swan liked to be called in a less feathered past life, was too busy pretending to be offended at the fact Vex didn't know him, to give a straight answer as to where his coin had gone. The dull whumpfs of the fish-owl's wingbeats could be periodically heard, where Luchesse continued his solitary patrols from bough to bough like a self-officious ghost.
"hare you habsolutely sure your book hmmakes no mehntion hoff me, Mister hArdayne?"
Encyclopedia had, as a matter of fact. Vex had taken one metaphorical faceful of information, and promptly done his best to think about something else. </font>"No," sighed Vex, "it doesn't."
"Hmph. hLet me take a look-"
"Cut that out!" snapped the Archivist. The swan had rather ineffectually got its beak clamped on one of Encyclopedia's corners, and judging by its irked stomping was trying to pin it under its feet.
"Sade." The red junglefowl's hooded eyes were black and glistening with contempt for all living things. It said something to the swan; Vex, unable to understand a word, made the most of the Sade's divided attention to fly out of reach again. The bright-plumed creature at Parliament's feet inclined its head a little, then vanished. The swan was making good to leave, and Vex so no harm in reminding the "ambassador" what sort of ambassadorings he could be doing.
"Oi. Sade. Stop swanning around-" -oh you had to be kidding- "and check with your buddies if you have. My damn. Coin. Got it?"
The swan glanced up at Encyclopedia, and blew him a kiss on a wingtip. Vex shuddered.
"hOnly because <font size="1">hit's you, my little love letter."
Luchesse cruised downward through the dissipating swan, snapping the neck on an unsolicited tinamou who had apparently just come out for some fresh air. He settled on a branch, appraising Encyclopedia.</font>
"Are all of you as fucked up as that swan? What about you? What'd you do to end up there with him?" The marshal cocked his head a little, then seemed to catch himself doing birdly things and ruffled his feathers self-consciously.
"I've barely a clue what those slimy little politicians are getting up to in there. From all I comprehend, they're futzing around trying to decide how their meeting hall looks. Waste of time, if you ask me."
"We can hear you, y'self-righteous cockmongler," added Skinner the lorikeet, perched as he was upon Parliament's shoulder. "Or did yer forget the rest of us have to sit in there listening to yer fuckin' monologuising?"
Vex was pleased - in a bittersweet sort of way - to find his own mental visualisations let him apply fingers to exasperated bridge of his nose, and pinch it until the two birds stopped screaming at each other. Encyclopedia itself was no help - while it could recall several noted polyglots from the course of his universe's history, it lacked any capacity as a translator.
Which meant the lunatic swan was his only port of call to get any sense out of the flock. Fan-fucking-tastic.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow