Pillsbury + 1 year:

[jwhouk]

"...We tried using the Launcher to tire her out, but damndest thing - she kept wolfing them down and come back for more!..."

[lake_wrangler]

And I thought it would be amusing if Aeternia had munched that last puck and ended up pushing the pill around with her nose...

I was half expecting that, myself...

[FreeFlier]

And I thought it would be amusing if Aeternia had munched that last puck and ended up pushing the pill around with her nose...

I was half expecting that, myself...

Or benadryl is a stimulant for her . . . knew a kid (now in his twenties) who benadryl made hyperactive and hyperirritable.

--FreeFlier

[Just Old Al]

With Glytch and the band headed for the dining room and the buffet, Al found himself at loose ends – and was enjoying it immensely.

The room was beginning to fill again – those choosing to eat here rather than in the dining room began to circulate back in, armed with plates, glasses and piles of the delicacies that Rosalita produced so well. With them came conversation - friends catching up as needed, or simply enjopying each other's company in the presence of fine food and drink.

His stomach rumbled – perhaps it was time he did a bit of hunting and gathering himself. Thinking of rib roast and horseradish, he headed for the main dining room, passing small clumps of friends armed with the plunder of the buffet.

The main dining room was chaos – friends still lined up at the buffets, making the stops that suited them. In between, and circulating in the room were the students from Gryphon hired as waitstaff – bussing plates from tables, ensuring the buffets were kept replenished, and doing the thousand and one little jobs that meant a successful gathering.

Collecting a ginger ale from the barkeep, he began to circulate to the groups of people sitting in twos and threes at the dining table, reminiscent of those dinners not so long ago. Patting a back, sitting for a moment or two, chatting, the conversation turned again and again to those dinners - and the people at them.

It was not melancholy – oh, no, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was as if people had decided to remember the dinners, and the comradeship, and the joy of the times – without forgetting but without fixating on the pain either.

Al was kept busy working the crowd. Over and over again as he walked among the diners he heard stories – always told happily – of the times at that very table, and the discussions.

Again and again he was reminded of the accident with the tower, and the loud pronouncement of love he’d made for Daisy that day standing in a robe. Laughing, he defended his actions, asking “What else could I do? She was and still IS the most beautiful woman in my world!” No one disagreed, no one argued, and there was a serene joy in the room over and above the usual merriment of a party.

In among it all, Justin and Shelley were doing what he was – circulating around and talking to friends – hugging, laughing, talking, and always hand in hand. Al’s heart warmed to see them together and happy – it had been a hard road for them to get there, but now they had what they truly deserved.

Finally, Al, ginger ale and stomach empty still, sat with the members of the band. They huddled together at one end of the room at a small auxiliary table, seeming a bit in shock at the sheer number of apex predators present and sharing space equably.

"WIll you lot RELAX? NO ONE here is going to hurt you. Trust me, if someone wanted to - and I pity them if they tried under our roof - there would be plenty of others to stop them from doing so - myself included." He unbuttoned his jacket, showing them the Ruger Security Six nestled there.

"Most of the squishies are heeled, I expect, and then the higher-level types hardly need it. Even with just hooves my dam and her kin can severly inconvenience you. However, none - and I repeat, none, of that is an issue here and now for you or anyone else. it's just what and how we are."

Xera spoke up. "Al, that's all well and good, but we talked about this before - the sheer level of power in this room is enough to level the planet."

Al answered surely. "Yes, and all of it is under tight and absolute control. Were that not the case I would be in as much trouble as you - as that tidy little package under my arm would be of little use against your boss and her cohort. Now, relax, enjoy your dinners, and circulate around and meet some of these beings. To be honest, once you see them as people, you'll never again be worried."

[Just Old Al]

AN: Damnit, forgot the credit on this. THis is mostly Sheekey The Lost's contribution, with a bit or two from me..Bad Al! No Donut! I'm blaming the cough syrup...

Xera frowned as a cross-connection registered. "Umm... Al? I know what elves are, and golems, and everything else. But... what's a Prroul?"

For his credit, Al nobly refrained from wincing at the perhaps inopportune reference. "He's... ah... something else. That golem that got handled? He apparently made some enemies. Prroul is one of them. Quite an honorable fellow, really. But, oh how shall I say this... he has a tendency to make electrical equipment cease to function. And really, his mindset is of a previous century, so he's not particularly comfortable around all this equipment."

Glytch mutters something under his breath that was probably not so complimentary about tomcats, which Al ignores as he’s not opening up that can of worms in front of company.

"So, if this Prroul was that golem's enemy, why did he show up?"

"Hunting it, I believe. Unfortunately, he has to go around by mostly mundane means, so when he heard about the golem and began his journey... well, it takes time to circumnavigate half the globe on foot. By the time he got here, the problem had been handled."

"Oh. So, umm... is he still around?" Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

"He is, he should be over by the cabin. It's lit by hurricane lamps and such, very rustic. But I should probably warn you, he's... a rather large fellow."

"Intimidatingly large?" Geoff chimed in, taking an interest in the topic.

"Most would consider him such, yes. Do keep in mind that this is a fellow who was actively hunting a golem. Keep in mind what your boss can do, Geoff. And what you've seen is probably a fraction of what she is capable of. And this fellow was relatively confident that he could come out the victor in such a fight."

"Oh." It was a small voice, almost a squeak, that the one syllable came out in. "So, umm... I don't suppose I could meet him, could I?"

Al paused, rolling an idea or three around in his head. He was hungry, true, but that could be dealt with later - or on the go.

"Xera, my lass, if you are willing to take a chance on an old man's intuition I would be more than happy to introduce you to Master Prroul. I think he'd like you.

Let me give you a briefing, however, of what you’re dealing with. He is a felinoid - obligate carnivore - and about 7 feet tall. His manners are impeccable - those of an older Chinese gentleman - and his speech patterns are similar - and more than a bit archaic. He's a complete and utter gentleman and one of my favourite beings on the planet.

However - I have been known to engage in battle with Sphinxes" Xera looked startled, and took a mental note to ask Glytch the details - later "and to verbally harass the Librarian. I would not EVER do so to Master Prroul, even though he and I are on a quite familiar basis. I respect him immensely, and that includes a bit of fear."

Xera thought for a moment. Did she want to risk this? Was this a sane idea at all? Al watched all of this walk across her mobile face and through her eyes - and then it collapsed into resolve.

"Al, I would love to meet him. Can we?"

"We can if you let me lend you a long coat and a pair of boots - it's cold out there and you're not exactly dressed for the occasion." Al snickered a bit. "Indeed, you are not. Utterly charming especially with the beautiful ink you wear, but not for a hike."

"Give me a bit to arrange things and have the staff pack Prroul a nice light snack - like 10 pounds of meat - and we can have a walk down there. Actually, let's wait till after your first set - this way if Prroul decides to eat you then we'll at least get to enjoy your violin first."

"Wait - what?" Xera looked concerned and quite unsettled - until she looked into Al's eyes and saw the merriment dancing there.

"VERY funny. Do you do this to all your guests?"

"Hardly. Some of them Prroul DOES get to eat." With that, Al guffawed, completely unable to hold a straight face with such base nonsense. "Catch up to me after your first set - and bring your violin. I am sure Prroul would be thrilled to hear you play."

With that, Al wandered off to find his dam and a plate of dinner – not necessarily in that order.

The five at the table looked at each other with a certain look of “OK, what the hell did we just sign up for?” and then Xera broke the silence.

“Look, the old man had some good advice. I for one am going to stir around and talk to some of these people, and get to meet them. I’m also up to go meet Master Prroul later – if you guys don’t want to, that’s OK as well. I know I stuck my foot in this one.”

[lake_wrangler]

Enjoying the read, as always, even though I can't stay long on the computer, before it gets uncomfortable for the leg...

Loved the interaction between Al and Xena... Poor, poor Xena... Al is just being terrible...

I do have a nitpick:

Glytch mutters something under his breath that was probably not so complimentary about tomcats, which Al ignores as he’s not open up that can of worms in front of company.

I'm guessing either Al is not opening up that can of worms, or he's not about to open up that can of worms...


Such a small thing, yet gets noticed...

I just hope you don't let a nitpicker like me prevent you from writing more...

[Sgt. Howard]

Enjoying the read, as always, even though I can't stay long on the computer, before it gets uncomfortable for the leg...

Loved the interaction between Al and Xena... Poor, poor Xena... Al is just being terrible...

I do have a nitpick:

Glytch mutters something under his breath that was probably not so complimentary about tomcats, which Al ignores as he’s not open up that can of worms in front of company.

I'm guessing either Al is not opening up that can of worms, or he's not about to open up that can of worms...


Such a small thing, yet gets noticed...

I just hope you don't let a nitpicker like me prevent you from writing more...

We have always profited from your proofreading.

[Just Old Al]

Such a small thing, yet gets noticed...

It says opening...no idea where you're getting this...

{snicker..thank you edit key...}

Seriously, thanks, Lake. I edited that in my offlien copy and it didn;t get reflected when i posted it for some reason. Yes, please do continue to nudge when I foul up.

Alan

[lake_wrangler]

Seriously, thanks, Lake. I edited that in my offlien copy and it didn;t get reflected when i posted it for some reason.

That seems to be a recurring theme... part and parcel of the creative process, I guess...

Yes, please do continue to nudge when I foul up.

Alan

You want me to pay trickster when you foul up?!?

[Just Old Al]

You want me to pay trickster when you foul up?!?

Like if I said no you'd do anything else? Come ahead.

They think of you as a trickster. I think of you as the Loyal Opposition.

[jwhouk]

"You know, I do get a bit irked about being called a 'squishy'," I remarked casually to Daisy. "Even if my physique fits at times."

"I'm sure Al is saying it affectionately, Joseph," she replied with a slight eye roll.

[Just Old Al]

AN: Sarge, thank you for the help with Neil - i never know how to phrase him.

“Yeeeeahhhhhh…you can run with it.” Geoff said. “I want to meet these folks and get to know ‘em – but if we all go down to visit Master Prroul…it might feel like we’re ganging up on him.”

Xera snorted. “ ‘Samatter, Geoff – can’t handle a little apex predator action?”

Geoff, bristled, but Rachel spoke first. “Xera, DOWN. Heel. It’s like bad karma to make fun of people like that. Not mellow at all. Be nice. I have to say, like it’s heavy to gang up on somebody like that and invade his pad, so if you want to go see him that’s groovy.”

Xera snickered. “Your tie-dye is showing when you say things like that, Rachel. OK, so I’m in for Master Prroul – but I do want to meet some of these other folks, too.” With that, Xera got up, grabbed a Coke from the bar server and began to wander through the crowd.

Walking around, she marveled at the scenes she saw. The centaurs, of course, were comfortable as themselves, and stood head and shoulders above most of the crowd. The Librarian was there with her husband the Centurion, and on a whim Xera wandered in that direction.

Walking up to Phix, she held her hand out, and said “Madame Librarian, I’m Xera – a member of the band. Pardon me for bothering you, but …well, this was Al’s idea.”

Phix looked down, and her face split in a smile. “And you listened to that crazy old man for what reason?” She took her hand and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, indeed. Why did Al suggest this?”

Xera spoke, a bit abashed. “Well, the four of us were kind of freaked at the guest list here, between you and the Centurion, the Demon Shepherd, our boss and the other golems, the salamander and all. Al saw this and said that if we got to know you all as people and not titles, that we wouldn’t feel that way.”

Phix pursed her lips, thinking momentarily. “The old fool’s on to something. Titles tell people what you are – not WHO you are. I’m the Librarian, and a Sphinx, but I’m also Phix.” In the wink of an eye Phix changed to her young human self, and put her arm through Neil’s and drew him closer, to an accompanying smile from him.

“My husband here is millennia old, but he’s…him. Neil, meet Xera. Al suggested she gets to know us.”

Neil, eyes appreciatively scanning Xera’s artwork, garnered an elbow from his wife to an accompanying chuckle. “Xera, dear lady, a pleasure to meet you. I heard what you two were talking about – and I concur. Seeing people as people gives enlightenment. Objectifying people causes fear.

I ought to point out- I have seen that artwork before, young Lady- it was adorning the skins of those I had been at war with... mind you, those wars are long over,"

"You battled with Wiccans?" Xera asked, astonished.

"Under Emperor Claudius, in what you would call 42 AD- I was Justice Markus Belatonia at that time-the first of many aliases. I had made 'Signus' in four years. Those whose faith you practice were as fierce and determined an adversary as I have ever encountered."

"Here I thought you were admiring the 'canvas' instead of the artwork," chided Phix.

"I was admiring both," Neil responded, "Your husband is very much a man, in case you have forgotten-"

She growled at him, he returned a feral noise- and they both snickered.

Looking over at Xera, Neil noticed the wide eyes at this display- "Oh now, don't be concerned- we are both apex predators, that's how we 'play argue'- here now, why don’t we have a walk around and introduce you to some of the others – let’s see if we can settle some of the butterflies in your stomach.”

With that, the threesome began walking about and talking to people – a dizzying event in Xera’s eyes. She began to meet people she’d only heard about in reports, or in corridor conversation at MIB:

John Smith – The Salamander – was a tall, polite gentleman with a distracted air. He seemed to be of the world, but not part of it – brusque, but not rude.

Xera knew her boss, but had never met the other two golems.

Bud was a delight – a grounded, earthy young woman with an indefinable accent standing with her beau Kevin. Jin and her husband Alan were young parents of the classic mold – chatting with people around them but occasionally stopping each other from calling “to check on the baby”.

“She’s fine. You know, after almost a year we should be over this nonsense.” Jin laughed, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist.

“She is FINE. If there was a problem, Devyn would call us, and you could get us there in seconds. Now stop twitching and enjoy the party.” Alan broke off, and headed for the bar with orders from the others.

The Demon Shepherd and her partner Jet were interesting. When Phix and Neil brought her over and introduced her to the pair, the three of them made an interesting group – the short, busty Latina, the tall, thin supermodel, and the taller, curvy Xera with her artwork.

“Monica, Jet, this is Xera – violinist, friend of Glytch’s. She wanted to meet folks, so we’re walking her around and making introductions.”

“Well, damn, girl! Love the ink – it’s beautiful!” Monica appraised Xera, scanning her tattoos appreciatively. “I see the Day and Night motifs on the sleeves, and the Tree Of Life. Let me guess, you and Al share a faith?”

Xera was nonplussed. “Al’s a Wiccan? I didn’t realize that.” She made a mental note to talk to him more later, or at a later time. How someone as conservative as him ended up a witch was definitely something she wanted to know.

“If that’s the case then yes, he and I do share a faith. I just happen to wear mine on my skin.“ She grinned.

“A lot of this is my personal philosophy – and the artwork of a good friend of mine.”

Jet spoke as well. “I envy you. My couture is just that – clothes – and is something you put on and take off. Yours is a part of you – it’s beautiful.”

“Honestly, I thought Glytch was nuts when he suggested that I do this gig dressed like this. When he mentioned the Alexanders and the party here I figured I’d get ridden out of town on a rail for this.“ She indicated her brassiere top and Daisy Dukes. “I was tempted to add wedges for the height and really freak people out, but I can see no one would have even noticed.

Instead of people flipping out over skin and ink, I not only get appreciated for it but people actually recognize the significance without the usual 20-minute lecture of Witch 101. Damn! Thank you.”

Monica snickered, slipping her arm around Jet’s waist. “Sweetie, you’d have to work a lot harder to generate a squick from this crowd. This is easily bar none the most accepting, appreciative crowd of people on the planet.

Think of what you’re dealing with here. Beings that in some cases have existed for thousands of years and seen all sorts of crazy. An eternal warrior (she pointed to Neil), mages, just about every sort of paranormal you can find all the way to box-stock normal mortals – and you think well done artwork is going to make them freak out?

Hellno, sweetie.” She wrapped her other arm around Xera’s waist, and turned toward Neil and Phix. “Anybody got a cellphone camera? I want a picture of this.”

Neil smiled, and produced his phone, firing off several shots from a reasonable distance to include the three in full.

“Neil – can I ask you to send that to me as well? I kinda want to remember this. “

“Well, that being the case – Monica, you grab Neil’s phone. Neil – come over with Xera.

In a twinkling Phix was again fully feral, leaving a frisson of nervousness in Xera’s stomach as she saw Phix again coming toward her. Positioning Neil to one side and standing to the other herself, both draped their arms around Xera – Neil to her waist, Phix on her shoulders.

Monica snapped several shots, all of them smiling, and with Xera with a slight deer-in-the-headlights look.

After they disentangled, Neil said “Give me your email address at MIB and I’ll send them to you there – or I’ll get it from Glytch.”

With a click, Xera’s earpiece turned on. “Hate to interrupt folks, but what do you say we get some music on?” Glytch’s voice announced itsef.

Xera tapped the headset and replied, “On my way!”.

“Phix, Neil, Monica, Jet…thank you. I came in here scared as Hell….and I’m not anymore. You’ve all given me a lot to think about, thanks!” With an exchange of hugs and handshakes, Xera was off to the bandstand, there to meet her bandmates and Glytch.

“Have fun?” Glytch asked.

“You have NO idea. Your…family here is amazing.”

Glytch smiled widely. “I know. Trust me, I knew they’d love you..and you them.”

[Just Old Al]

AN: This piece is very much a group effort between Sarge, Glytch and myself. I am not even going to attempt to note who wrote what - it's that intermixed. Enjoy it - and listen to the tune and hear it as we did.


As the band gathered again Greg, always interested in things musical, approached Rachel – fascinated by her guitar.

"Well," Greg asked Rachel, " did you get this thing brand new and... "

"Pffff. Man, I can't afford that. Nah, I got this at a garage sale. Found it all busted up and buried in some dead guy's stuff. Wasn't even sure it was the real deal. These four frets were gone, the ones near the nut were smashed, the neck looked like a shark attack victim, and the body suuuuper scratched by a makeshift pick or something... I asked around at work about where I might be able to get it fixed.

Glytch didn't know anything about this stuff but he looked up the serial number and stuff. When he saw the price for a good one, man, he almost fell out of his chair. Did you know he's got a soft spot for art? Well, when he saw what it was, he like, got all warm n' fuzzy over it and told me to take it to someone good and he'd pay for it, just to save it. So I took him along and we went to my Uncle... Uh... Paul Adams..."

"EXCUSE ME?!?THE PAUL ADAMS?!? YOUR UNCLE IS PAUL ADAMS, LUTHIER TO THE STARS?!?"

She looked a bit surprised at this... "....uh... yea... you know him?"

"I know OF him, he's a legend! What all did he do?"

"Well... He and Glytch started talking, Glytch was asking all kinds of questions. One thing led to another, and... Well... he redid the whole neck-Fingerboard, frets and everythin'. Then he trimmed the body to get rid of the gouges and make it easier for my hands to work... He also did the locking tremolo... he also carved out the 'goody box' space for the equalizer and all the effects boxes here. He also did the mid and treble 'humbuckers'- see how they're on split demand? I can run them either single or double, and either clockwise or widdershins depending in single mode."

"You can, in effect, run them against each other?"

"Yeah man."

"What does that do?"

She gave a slightly wicked grin, which was more than disconcerting coming from the gentle-looking woman, "Makes this supereerie effect when used in a minor key."

Greg considered this- "And... Glytch did the electronics beyond that?"

"Yeah..." she considered him for a moment, "So, do you play?"

"Yes... yes I do,"

"Wanna try it?" she offered, smiling.

"I would love to- can you set it up? 'Kansas'- 'Dust in the Wind'-"

"Do... you don't use a pick, do you?" She glanced at Greg's hands as she spoke.

"Heh- I don't even know how ...”

She passed him the guitar, configured for the sound she had described. With swift, sure fingers he plucked a few strings, and satisfied, slung the guitar strap over his shoulder and settled it in playing stance.

“Do you sing?” he asked, preparing himself.

“Well, sure, I do…”

“Do you know “Dust In The Wind?”

“Fersure. Grew up hearing it – learned to play it, too. You want me to lead?”
"Yea... I'll throw in a bass vocal."

Xera had heard this as well. She climbed to her position, picked up her beloved Guarneri and waited.

Greg began to play, fingers moving surely over the strings. The minor, plaintive tune went out through the audio system, and the crowd quieted, mesmerized by the music. As the lead in finished, Rachel began, working flawlessly with the guitar undercurrent.

“I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone

All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity”

As she sang, with Greg backing her on guitar and with his bass rumble, the crowd filtered toward the bandstand. It was a tune that all had heard before many times, but this completely impromptu rendition of it stole the attentions of all.

As Rachel finished the second verse, Xera’s violin sang, picking up the original viola/violin duet and melding it flawlessly into a part for violin.

By this time, you could have heard a pin drop in all of the spaces where the music reached.

With the end of the bridge Rachel began again, and her voice, Greg’s playing and Xera’s sorrowful violin carried forward through the third verse and into the ending of the tune together. As the last strains of Greg’s finger-picking died away, he unslung the guitar and reverently handed it back to Rachel, saying “You have a blessed instrument no matter how it got there. Enjoy it.”

The crowd in all the rooms broke out spontaneously in applause, which went on loud and long.

Glytch tapped his headset, and his voice traveled to the others.

“I don’t know how we’re going to top that – but we have to try!” He grinned.
“Ready?”

[Dave]

So... when is the CD (or download) of that little improv going to be available? Don't hold out on us, now!

[GlytchMeister]

Unfortunately for you, Glytch is not recording...

[Dave]

[Sgt. Howard]

We need a female vocalist- I can do the rest of the band minus the violin

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch took his position at his computer and took a moment to crack his knuckles and get everything just so while the band got ready. Xera checked on the others before raising her violin and her bow before giving Glytch a small nod and spoke into her headset. "Let's start big and get everyone's blood flowing."
Glytch nodded and mentally scrolled through his selection of songs... Almost immediately, a wide, wicked grin broke out on his face.
Xera saw it from across the room. "That. Whatever it was that just made you grin. I want that song."
Glytch selected it and the sheet music appeared on the screens set up in front of each player.
"Oooh, Glytch, you're a man after my heart."
"Heh heh heh heh heh..." Glytch made the appropriate adjustments to his equalizer and tapped a button. Sheet music appeared on tablets set up for the band members and Rachel grinned. With a small flourish, she dropped the body of the guitar and held only the neck, letting it slide down her hand as she played the first notes of Purple Haze. The rest of the band jumped in enthusiastically, with Xera augmenting the guitar as well as replacing the vocals, balancing the two parts skillfully - she played with a style that added an almost psychedelic feel to the song.
Glytch mainly contributed by manipulating the sounds coming out of Rachel's guitar, brightening the lower strings while darkening the higher ones, mimicking Jimi's signature sound.

If someone's pulse doesn't quicken as a result of that, they likely didn't have one in the first place. Glytch grinned, then winced as he suddenly realized at least two members of the audience, and probably more, actually didn't have a pulse. After a quick mental apology, he continued with his job.

The rest of the set, Glytch kept careful watch of his audience, gauging his next song choice on the reactions to previous songs, dipping into his extensive knowledge of body language and other nonverbal cues to get an idea of what everyone was thinking. He ventured far and wide in terms of music variety - hard and soft, old and new, rock (Rachel provided plenty of suggestions that were especially highly appreciated by the elder members of the audience), country (he had to take some suggestions from Bob regarding that genre), many different variations on modern music (dub step, industrial, glitch hop, drum n' bass, and jungle), pop and even a few rap songs (he needed help from Xera with those genres). He also kept a close eye on the dancers, selecting songs that suited the average level of exhaustion they appeared to be exhibiting. Once he began to get a feel for the crowd, Glytch used the spare time he was spending analyzing the audience to create off-the-cuff remixes or to select from the playlist of remixed songs he had already done.
Towards the end of the first set, people began to submit requests - all were placed into a separate pool to be selected from as they suited Glytch's primary criteria.

After a while, Glytch switched his setup back into autopilot to provide a good even mixture of music at a lower volume to again allow easier conversation and stepped down from his mini-stage the rest of the band followed suit.

[lake_wrangler]

If someone's pulse doesn't quicken as a result of that, they likely didn't have one in the first place. Glytch grinned, then winced as he suddenly realized at least two members of the audience, and probably more, actually didn't have a pulse. After a quick mental apology, he continued with his job.

Ha ha ha! Best line of the post!

Yes, one must always be careful what one says, or even think, at times, when surrounded by such an eclectic bunch of characters...

[GlytchMeister]

That was (almost verbatim) taken from a suggestion from Al, so give the credit to him for that bit.