Wapsi Square Forum

Rosalita est Catholique?

Nitpicking for jwhouk (in almost-background color since spoiler tags don't work):

1) Cavin borrowed the tune from a multimeter and infrared scanner, and wrote new lyrics? The word I think you want is usually spelled "filched". (UrbanDictionary.com has other meanings for "filk" but they are even less suitable for the context.)

2) I think there may be some confusion between Calista and Castela. Calista doesn't have a sister who refers to her as a little stinkweed.

3) The first line about seedcake seems out of place. I have no idea which of them would be saying it - or why.

I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns, or that makes me stumble or do a double-take or reread before I figure out what it means. My inner copy-editor is (mostly) gagged.

Warrl wrote:Nitpicking for jwhouk (in almost-background color since spoiler tags don't work):

1) Cavin borrowed the tune from a multimeter and infrared scanner, and wrote new lyrics? The word I think you want is usually spelled "filched". (UrbanDictionary.com has other meanings for "filk" but they are even less suitable for the context.)

2) I think there may be some confusion between Calista and Castela. Calista doesn't have a sister who refers to her as a little stinkweed.

3) The first line about seedcake seems out of place. I have no idea which of them would be saying it - or why.

I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns, or that makes me stumble or do a double-take or reread before I figure out what it means. My inner copy-editor is (mostly) gagged.

2. No mistake. Calista has a Mentor, M, and friend, Atsali who has a sister who's a stinkweed, Castela.

Emerauld was going to keep Castela from eavesdropping(which she is 'innocently' incidentally quite good at) while Calista is informed that there's a possibility of mistaken ident.
Seedcake was an aside to a tea party she wanted to have with all of them afterwards. She loves tea parties.
Seedcake is also very tasty(and this authour is lamenting the lack of ingredients to make some, as she herself is fond of it with a nice cuppa), and it would be amusing for Cavin to suddenly show up in the kitchen with enough seedcake to feed all of Club Alexander, coming out of a tiny pack, and enough to send home to family. Rosalita would have fits.

She's more than a bit random if you've read other scenes she's in, and often speaks a mile a minute when excited, which allows for confusion.
It's intentional on my part, as it can lead to silliness that the other authours can and have run with.

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

You're no fun...

Dave wrote:

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

You're no fun...

Dun vorry Dave. Ve leave hyu verra nice openings, chust cause hyu is vun verra punny guy.

Dave wrote:

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

You're no fun...

Like you need help?!?

GlytchMeister wrote:

Dave wrote:

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

You're no fun...

Like you need help?!?

Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

Dave wrote:You're no fun...

GlytchMeister wrote:Like you need help?!?

Sgt. Howard wrote:Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

But we are qualified to provide more puns . . .

--FreeFlier

Sgt. Howard wrote: Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

Oh, yes, we are...it is however a rather...permanent...cure.

Gimme a break. I just ran with what Dinky gave me.

---

I stopped outside the entrance to the study, where Neil had made his "situation room". Looking in, I saw he was at a desk, opposite the large window that fed light from the afternoon sun to the room.

"Neil?" I knocked on the frame of the door. "You busy?"

The young man at the desk raised his head from what he had been reading.

"Joe?" He turned, placing the papers he'd been reading down on the desk. "I hadn't anticipated you to…" He stopped for a moment as he regarded me. "Hm. I see what Nicodemus meant."

"Oh, don't tell me you're seeing…"

"No, no – for some reason, it's calming, in a way. But yes, you appear to be lit up like that Christmas tree out in the courtyard." He chuckled a moment. "The Library talked to you again, did it not?"

"No. Someone else did," I replied – trying not to tear up again. "I think you probably know Who."

"I… I always suspected it," he said after a moment. "I've been wrapped up with teaching, and Phix, and Dixie…"

I tried not to roll my eyes, but I did anyways. "I understand why you call her that," I said with a sigh. "But really, you know why Phix – and myself, might I add – call her by her proper name?"

Neil looked at me oddly. "You know why?" Then it clicked. "Oh. Yes. I suppose you would."

"Don't make me go all 'Dashy' on you," I said with a brief chuckle. We exchanged a laugh.

"You know, most of my classmates would think you were speaking of something else – including my niece."

"Speaking of something else – the reason I dropped in. I… well, you can tell I talked with Him." Neil's face dropped for a moment. "He gave me a message for you."

"For me?" I nodded in response.

"He forgave you. You need to forgive yourself. I think you heard that from Nicodemus before, but you need to hear it again."

Neil blinked for a moment – then looked away.

"What… Oh." He turned back and looked at me once more. "I think I understand now." He smiled, weakly. "In more ways than one, of course."

"Of course. He did also tell me I should attend the wedding, regardless. Quoted a bit of that one speech he gave on the mount back to me."

"About not worrying about your life?"

"I was thinking more about not being afraid of those who want to kill your body – but they cannot touch your soul," I replied. "He spoke that to me as well."

"I believe that came later in Levi ben Alphaeus' Gospel," Cornelius smiled knowingly. "But it is worth remembering."

"I have a confession – Centurion," I said with a little more formal note to my voice. "Though I do work for the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, I intentionally avoided working in the adult system for two reasons: one, my graduate studies were geared towards young adults. Two, I didn't want to deal with the requirements of working in adult prisons."

"One of which is carrying and operating a gun?"

I nodded in acknowledgment.

"There's various reasons why – some due to this," I said, taking my glasses off briefly, "and some due to more personal reasons. Let's say that other parts of my family have a history of mental… unsoundness."

"That's odd, I didn't think Oscar to be…"

"No, not that part of the family. The other side. Most of it due to… well, one stein at a time?" He nodded at my reference.

"So – what are you thinking?"

"Well, I'm not afraid of dying, to tell the truth – and don't give me that look, kiddo. We already discussed that. No – what I want is to enhance my chances at survival."

I turned away for a moment to look out the window.

"And I hear you have a rather unique armorer on the estate…"

jwhouk wrote:Gimme a break. I just ran with what Dinky gave me.

We're not picking on you. Dave, on the other hand...

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

Dave wrote:You're no fun...

GlytchMeister wrote:Like you need help?!?

Sgt. Howard wrote:Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

Just Old Al wrote:Oh, yes, we are...it is however a rather...permanent...cure.

Permanent... quite. A cure? Don't be so sure.

I'm sure you're all familiar with that hoary staple of SF and fantasy and horror stories... the Mind that gets loose in the great computer network. Sometimes it's benign, like Max Headroom. Sometimes it's a mad scientist bent on self-preservation. Sometimes it's a Big Bad, like a demon, or Skynet, or the spirit of Jack the Ripper, or Freddy Kruger, or somebody like that.

Those are all fiction, of course. Reality could be worse. It could be a punster. An immortalized cybernetic punster.

Now, I'm a software nerd. I've been doing computer networking stuff since the early 1970s. These days, I help develop networking and security hardware and software for a company with a big, fast network... in fact it's arguably the biggest distributed data cloud on the planet, and it accounts for a high percentage of total Internet traffic. Most of you probably use it every day.

You might imagine that this has given me the opportunity to make certain... interesting... backups of certain memories and engrams. Some of the embedded control logic might fairly be called a "deadman switch."

You've heard of the Dark Internet? Get ready for the Dork Internet.

Dave wrote:

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

Dave wrote:You're no fun...

GlytchMeister wrote:Like you need help?!?

Sgt. Howard wrote:Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

Just Old Al wrote:Oh, yes, we are...it is however a rather...permanent...cure.

Permanent... quite. A cure? Don't be so sure.

I'm sure you're all familiar with that hoary staple of SF and fantasy and horror stories... the Mind that gets loose in the great computer network. Sometimes it's benign, like Max Headroom. Sometimes it's a mad scientist bent on self-preservation. Sometimes it's a Big Bad, like a demon, or Skynet, or the spirit of Jack the Ripper, or Freddy Kruger, or somebody like that.

Those are all fiction, of course. Reality could be worse. It could be a punster. An immortalized cybernetic punster.

Now, I'm a software nerd. I've been doing computer networking stuff since the early 1970s. These days, I help develop networking and security hardware and software for a company with a big, fast network... in fact it's arguably the biggest distributed data cloud on the planet, and it accounts for a high percentage of total Internet traffic. Most of you probably use it every day.

You might imagine that this has given me the opportunity to make certain... interesting... backups of certain memories and engrams. Some of the embedded control logic might fairly be called a "deadman switch."

You've heard of the Dark Internet? Get ready for the Dork Internet.

we... are... doomed...

Dave wrote:

Warrl wrote:I only mention stuff that leaves an opening for horrible puns

Dave wrote:You're no fun...

GlytchMeister wrote:Like you need help?!?

Sgt. Howard wrote:Oh, he needs help alright... but none of us are qualified to render it...

Just Old Al wrote:Oh, yes, we are...it is however a rather...permanent...cure.

Permanent... quite. A cure? Don't be so sure.

I'm sure you're all familiar with that hoary staple of SF and fantasy and horror stories... the Mind that gets loose in the great computer network. Sometimes it's benign, like Max Headroom. Sometimes it's a mad scientist bent on self-preservation. Sometimes it's a Big Bad, like a demon, or Skynet, or the spirit of Jack the Ripper, or Freddy Kruger, or somebody like that.

Those are all fiction, of course. Reality could be worse. It could be a punster. An immortalized cybernetic punster.

Now, I'm a software nerd. I've been doing computer networking stuff since the early 1970s. These days, I help develop networking and security hardware and software for a company with a big, fast network... in fact it's arguably the biggest distributed data cloud on the planet, and it accounts for a high percentage of total Internet traffic. Most of you probably use it every day.

You might imagine that this has given me the opportunity to make certain... interesting... backups of certain memories and engrams. Some of the embedded control logic might fairly be called a "deadman switch."

You've heard of the Dark Internet? Get ready for the Dork Internet.

. . .

Cool!



--FreeFlier

Al’s cellphone rang.

“Al speaking. Mort, good to hear from you. How’s the claim going? Oh, that’s excellent – good to hear. I’ll see the money next week? Bravo. Next time I get into town lunch is on me – we’ll get together.

No, I have not forgotten your MGB needs front wheel bearings…I should be back in business well before Spring, so getting those in and fitted won’t be a problem. Love to Sharon and the kids…Ta.”

Al terminated the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“Well, that sounded good.” Greg said, overhearing the one-sided conversation. They were in Neil’s staff room, going over the plans for the A-Mill great hall once again.

“Yes, it was good. The insurance company paid off remarkably quickly and didn’t quibble on any of the evaluations. Thankfully I had recent enough appraisals on the classics, and all of the equipment was accounted for on an inventory. They gave me appraisal values on all of the cars plus inflation, and much the same on all of the shop equipment, tools and stock. They’ve deducted for the salvaged items from the front shop, but not a significant amount.”

“So, you’ll be able to go back into business soon.”

“Handsomely. I didn’t get Pebble Beach values on the cars, but then again I didn’t expect it. Between the payout for the classics and the business I’m in very good shape – I could easily retire if I wanted to.”

“You won’t, though.” That sentence was not a question but a statement. Like Greg, Al couldn’t sit still – he was constitutionally unable to do so.

“No, I won’t. I’ll end up back in business somewhere – not sure where that will be but it will happen. I didn’t much care for my old location anyway – and in any case the building had to be torn down because of structural damage.”

Greg snorted. “Liar. You know EXACTLY where you’re going to be back in business – and so do I. Your stuff is already there, and you’re already thinking about the changes to make it your own.”

Al stiffened a bit, surprising Greg. Greg had assumed that that discussion had already taken place – he saw now he’d been mistaken.

“Really? Do tell where that might be.” Al said, his tone a bit icy.

Greg thought carefully before opening his mouth. It seemed he’d hit a nerve here, and was going to try really hard not to hit it again.

“Considering you and Daisy are an item, I assumed that you’d be setting up shop again on the Alexander campus.”

“You assume wrongly. It may happen, it may not. This is a discussion I have to have with our young Buck, as he is the CEO over there. That reminds me – now that I have my payment in hand, I need to speak to him about the cost accounting on the ambulance work. Would you excuse me for a bit? I do believe he’s over at the guest house, and I should catch him before dinner.” With that, Al left the room.

Greg looked after him sadly – he knew this whole situation had rankled Al’s sense of fair play – he hated owing anyone anything and felt he was being a drain even though he’d worked hard every day on planning and training for the battle. Greg silently wished his blood brother well and then turned back to his plan review.

----------

The conversation was not going well.

“Buck, I need the bill for the ambulance work.”

“You’re not getting it.”

“What do you mean I’m not getting it? I’m in a position to pay it now, and I will not owe anyone when I don’t need to.”

“Owe? Who the hell said you owe anything? You just can’t take a hint, can you?”

“I owe AHI for the work done on that truck. The sheer number of man hours alone, never mind the parts and that engine has got to add up to some tens of thousands of dollars.”

“Al, give it a break. All that work got buried in the shop costs – the only one paying for that is going to be the tax guys when the year’s figured out. Really, you don’t owe anything.”

“Now, that is just not acceptable. It’s bad enough I’ve been here mooching off you and your family while this debacle has been going on and you’re not even letting me pay for what I can.”

At that point Buck lost his temper.

“Damnit! REALLY? MOOCHING? Godsdamnit, Al, what is wrong with you! You have been working hard every damned day here trying to pull our asses out of this in one piece and you’re calling that MOOCHING? Really – what the hell!”

Out in the kitchen area Katherine heard the volume go up on the discussion. She’d heard enough of the initial points to know that this was going to be a very turbulent conversation, and that Al was flat-out not going to win this one. Buck was a very proud man and not unused to getting his own way – that didn’t mean this was going to go easily.

Castela, shadowing her mother, asked “Mama, wh-wh-why is Daddy yelling at Grampa Al?”

That statement stopped Katherine in her tracks. “Sweetie, why did you call Al Grandpa?”

“ ‘Cause if he marries Gramma Daisy he’s gonna be our-our step-grampa!”

Katherine giggled. Out of the mouths of babes…

“Al feels like he owes Daddy money for something, and Daddy says he doesn’t and Al insists he does. That’s why they’re talking.”

“Is everything gonna be OK? Daddy sounds mad, and so does Grampa Al.”

“Sweetie, they’ll be fine. They just need to yell at each other to figure out they’re both OK.”

“That’s really weird.”

Katherine giggled again…again out of the mouths of babes…

She went back to listening – not that it was hard to do given the volume coming from Buck’s office.

“Damnit, Buck – I have done nothing here I would not have done otherwise – this is simply intolerable. I insist you allow me to pay the shot on this.”

“No. WHAT PART OF NO DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND!”

“ALL OF IT!”

Oh, dear. An interruption was in order here before these two said things that they’d regret. With that, Katherine knocked on the office door and asked “I’m making coffee – would you two like some?”

She opened the door for the answer, to see Al and Buck standing nearly nose to nose across Buck’s desk.

With the door opening, Al’s manners kicked in and he stood back, turned to Katherine and said “Yes, please, cream and sugar if you have it.” Buck, taking a deep breath, responded similarly. With that she closed the door, realizing she’d caught them just in time.

“Very well. I will concede this – it seems I like I would never be able to get a figure.” Al realized a frontal assault was not going to work here. Stealth would have to serve. Perhaps Glytch could get him a cost accounting…

“Now, let’s talk about Building 2.”

“Building 2? That’s yours. Momma and I already discussed it.”

“Oh you did, did you? And what else did you decide while you were at it?” The heat was rising again – decisions made without his input tended to rankle, and he’d never completely calmed down after the first discussion.

Buck spoke quickly, realizing the situation and heading to defuse it. “Al, believe me or not but when it comes to Building 2 you’re doing us a favor.

Building 2 was one of the original buildings on the campus when AHI moved out here way back when. It’s been obsolete for us for years – power, structural, floors and such are simply not up to handling all of the massive items we deal with on the new harvesters and machinery. It’s too small for storage, not equipped for a lab and all the glass in that building makes it almost impossible to use for anything on a production basis.

In short, it was a great building for us in 1950 but it isn’t now. The board’s been after me to recycle the space there and build an extension to the 34 building – but I’ve been hesitating. You being in there gives me a reason to keep that piece of AHI history alive.”

“Interesting. What are we talking for a per-foot rental rate, and I’ll pay for the leasehold improvements.”

Buck waved his hand at the mention of money. “We will discuss it. I don’t have the figures to hand” he did, but he wasn’t going to give them out just yet “and we’ll discuss the leasehold’s improvements. I assume you’re talking lighting, a lift, a spray containment area, and such?”

“Among other things, yes. I’ll also need special air conditioning and filtration in the back lab area, but that’s coming from neither of our pockets – MIB’s already made it clear that it’s on their shilling.”

The discussion turned amicable after that. Al settled down and Buck, realizing that the situation had turned in his favor, was again the convivial conversationalist.

Out in the main area Atsali came down the stairs and asked “Is the fight over? I could hear them upstairs with no problems at all.”

Katherine chucked again. “Yes, it seems like they’re done – the volume’s gone down and they’re talking not yelling.”

“Why do men do that?”

Katherine snorted a bit. Her daughter was getting a bit cynical about men, it seemed. “Well, what you have there is two powerful men in their own fields, and neither of them is used to taking no for an answer in things that are important to them. Neither one of them was going to give, so the volume went up. This is why I interrupted them – if I hadn’t they’d have both said things they’d have regretted later and we wouldn’t want Daddy and Grandpa Al to dislike each other would we?”

Atsali guffawed. “Let me guess Pickle came up with that. She asked Glytch about that and he told her that’s what it would be. I just hope she doesn’t say it to Al considering how he’s hesitating.”

Katherine sobered. “I hope he does it soon – this is doing neither of them any good.”

With that, Katherine picked up a tray of coffee things from the kitchen counter and headed toward the office door, Atsali trailing with the pot.

"Well now," Debbie stated as the trunk of the dress was fitted to Shelly, "THIS ought to be simple enough- her hips and bust match yours perfectly, but she ruined the sleeves... which would not have fit you anyway. Lacework from the rosebuds to the throat, silk bodice with chiffon flounce and skirt, a silk bow over the bustle and a modest train. And those sleeves are nothing to make- if you can get back here in a week's time, I can get a final fitting and send you on your way,"
"Excellent, Debbie- Greg always did admire your work," Annie commented.
"Does he still have his 'GawdAwfuls'?" Debbie asked.
"No- he gained enough weight it wasn't a pretty picture at all- buttons kept popping at odd moments. You DID tailor it right to him,"
"Good Lord! He isn't gone to seed, is he?"
"Huh- not hardly... he IS up to 200 pounds, but there's not much slack there... he's rather... rawlr..."
"Hmmm... he always was, you know. I had my thoughts when I heard of his last break-up, but YOU beat me to him,"
"Smile when you say that, little girl," growled Annie.
Shelly looked apprehensive- "You two aren't going to scrap, are you?"
"Not hardly," Debbie countered, "We've teased each other like this for the past nine years. Annie DID beat me to the punch, but I found my Dean shortly afterwards... it's all good,"
"What are 'GawdAwfuls"?" Shelly asked.
Debbie and Annie both snickered- "Greg had me do up a pants and matching vest in a purple/yellow/off-white/green plaid, with a baby-puke green frock coat- he used it to do an impression of a snake oil merchant. He used to brag that when he bought the material, he took three Scotsmen with him- when all three were offended, he knew he had what he wanted! He wore this with a disreputable top hat, oxfords with spats, white gloves and cane- what a sight! People would cross the street to avoid him- yet when he did his spiel, he always drew a crowd and had them amused! And the stuff he promoted! Every living history crowd in the Bay Area wanted him there! The local Sheriff would threaten him, disgruntled customers would accost him, the printer usually put his picture up as "DO NOT TRUST THIS MAN,"... he loved playing the charlatan... and he did it well,"
"He also did wet plate photography, as I recall," Annie mentioned, "He still has several hundred pounds of glass negatives from that,"
"OOOOOH! I need to peruse those... especially if they date back to his second wife... he took photos of a LOT of Civil War types wearing my work... OK, here we are- what do you think?"
Shelly was stunned- even sleeveless, the gown made her look dainty and ladylike. Annie gave an appraising nod.
"How Much?" she asked.
"Four fifty once it's all done,"
"You're... you're kidding, right? Crap, I have that much in the checkbook as a buffer,"
"OOOOH!!! Annie I LIKE these customers you bring me!!!"

Are you guys eventually going to put all of this into a PDF file? If so, you might run into a slight problem... I noticed that jwhouk has been, at times using the first person singular in the narrative (I went, I did, I saw, etc.) But if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not going to take the time to go look, just now) he has not been the only one. I think Sarge and Al may have done the same at times. If that is the case, you will need to rewrite some of the stuff, so that it's clear who is doing what in the story...

lake_wrangler wrote:Are you guys eventually going to put all of this into a PDF file? If so, you might run into a slight problem... I noticed that jwhouk has been, at times using the first person singular in the narrative (I went, I did, I saw, etc.) But if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not going to take the time to go look, just now) he has not been the only one. I think Sarge and Al may have done the same at times. If that is the case, you will need to rewrite some of the stuff, so that it's clear who is doing what in the story...

I've noticed that as well- to the best of my knowledge, I have never used first person in any of these narratives. Joe almost always does, and Al has gotten into the habit. I am reminded of 'Thieves' world', a collective effort in paperback- the story there switches back and forth as well, depending on who is writing the chapter. After this is coalesced, a read-through might tell if it is too distracting- if so, it is always worth a re-write... changing from first to third is usually not too difficult. Just remember- virtually everything here is first draught. Except for spelling errors, precious little editing has been done.

Sgt. Howard wrote:

lake_wrangler wrote:Are you guys eventually going to put all of this into a PDF file? If so, you might run into a slight problem... I noticed that jwhouk has been, at times using the first person singular in the narrative (I went, I did, I saw, etc.) But if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not going to take the time to go look, just now) he has not been the only one. I think Sarge and Al may have done the same at times. If that is the case, you will need to rewrite some of the stuff, so that it's clear who is doing what in the story...

I've noticed that as well- to the best of my knowledge, I have never used first person in any of these narratives. Joe almost always does, and Al has gotten into the habit. I am reminded of 'Thieves' world', a collective effort in paperback- the story there switches back and forth as well, depending on who is writing the chapter. After this is coalesced, a read-through might tell if it is too distracting- if so, it is always worth a re-write... changing from first to third is usually not too difficult. Just remember- virtually everything here is first draught. Except for spelling errors, precious little editing has been done.

I just hope it doesn't give you too much extra work, when the time comes.

Meanwhile, since I'm already on the keyboard, I might as well, mention that as much project creep as this may have gotten, it sure is a fun read!

I've actually been kicking back and letting the other fellows (and Miss Dink) carry the load- it has bee =n exceptional!