Armistice Walker and the Golden Orb (Nanowrimo) - Page 2

pshrynk · 11-19-2009, 08:58 PM

The fight had slowly wound down and ultimately ended when the Shore Patrol had finally made an entrance. Sam imagined that elsewhere in the world, there were Shore Patrols who waded in to bar fights with glee and batons, but not in Havana. The Shore Patrol here was very understanding of the needs of the entrepreneurial taverner and allowed some leeway according to the desires of the location.

Sam was quite happy with replacing the tables and chairs and some glassware on a frequent basis. The expense was offset by the general popularity of his bar for the sailors and Marines from the Fleet. And, occasionally there was the odd dollar lying around as he swept up. You just couldn't keep track of everything in your pockets when you're flying across the room in an unconscious state.

Over by the bar, Armistice groaned awake and looked around to see if he needed to keep fighting. Satisfied that he did not, he picked up Patrick's beer and slowly poured it over its owner's head. Vivaldi was still tangled up with that missionary. Sam felt that he needed to do something about that dog. Having barroom brawls occasionally was one thing, but having them started by a talking dog with a drinking problem was, in Sam's mind, unseemly.

The Professor was in the center of the room, helping a couple of still stunned sailors put a table back together. It was one of the new ones that Sam had designed to collapse under the weight of a body without causing damage to the structure. It looked to save him a lot of cash at some point.

The woman who had entered just as the fighting peaked was sitting at one of the un-collapsed tables by the window. She had order something called a Cosmopolitan and had given very specific instructions as to how to do it. Somehow, Sam had been reluctant to give his usual response to such requests. "I got vodka and soda water and you'll like it!" seemed to be a certain route to a broken bone or two.

Sam went back behind the bar, lacking any finding of stray dollars on the floor. The professor came up and said, "As you were saying?"

Sam pointed at Armistice, who was moving his jaw back and forth with his hand. "Professor Slopeton, Armistice Walker."

Armistice looked up from his reveries on how he had managed to be on the losing end of a fist for the first time in years. There was a vision of unbearable beauty in there somewhere, but the details were foggy. Just then a man in a white linen suit came up and proffered his hand. Armistice had never really been proffered anything in his life and he was somewhat confused.

"Augustus Slopeton, PhD, at your service, sir!"

Armistice looked down at his hand, which was pumping violently up and down and managed to get out, "Armistice Walker. Pleased to meet you."

"How does one come to have a moniker of 'Armistice?' It's hardly a normal name."

"Well I was named Samuael Langhorne Walker by my parents, who had a fascination with literature. I got the name 'Armistice' because I was born on November eleventh. I was shot down over Germany in the Great War and was in a prisoner camp for five months. On my eighteenth birthday we got let loose. Everyone around me at the time kept telling me it was all because of my birthday and it became 'Armistice's Day' form then on. The name stuck."

"Plus it would cause no end of confusion with our friend Sam here, eh?" Slopeton gave Armistice a wink that could only be described as lascivious. It was amazing that that sort of thing could be injected into that particular conversation.

"I suppose so. What sort of professor are you, Professor?"

"Archeology! The science of the future! As well as the past, eh?" Again with the wink. Armistice figured it was a character flaw.

"Ah. How nice."

"Precisely!" There didn't seem to be an actual connection between what each participant in the conversation was talking about. "And now, I find that I am in need of a pilot and plane. Sam, here, tells me that you are a pilot with a plane in need of an archeologist, what?"

Now the funny talking man in the white suit had Armistice's attention. "Maybe," he said. It didn't pay to be too enthusiastic under these circumstances.

　
Constance sat at her table and wondered how she was going to make contact with Professor Slopeton. He was a man, so the obvious route was availabe, but the recent definitely not a Knack experience had rattled her a bit. She sipped the passable Cosmopolitan that the bartender had quickly whipped up. a bit heavy on the cranberry juice and short on the vodka, but the grenadine was just right. She'd have to work on his technique if she stayed around these parts for very long.

The man with whom she had definitely not had a moment was now speaking with Slopeton. She could hear that the conversation was about the professor needing a pilot. Suddenly, it hit her how she could get in on the conversation. It was going to be distasteful. And painful. But it had to be done. She stood up and walked toward the pair at the bar.
　
　
"I wonder if you need a qualified transcriptionist, as well, Professor?" Said Constance, horning in on the conversation.

Armistice looked at her and said, "Gna!"

Vivaldi staggered to the bar and started to drink his beer, which Sam had set on the floor for him. "Looks like you're going to need a room," he said.

"Shh!" said the humans.

pshrynk · 11-19-2009, 08:59 PM

"I am a very well trained typist, professor. You can probably use one in your line of work."

"Well, not really. I manage to hunt and peck my way through my papers quite well on my own."

This was not going well. But she had an entrance. She used all her skills aquired in the gambling salons of every riverboat on the Mississippi over all those years wasted on trying to make herself rich.

"Well, how about your notes and daily information? I have my own typewriter." She made amental note to steal the portable typewriter she had seen on Biggles' desk. It looke expensive, and above all, light.

"Gna!" said the pilot. If this was the extent of his vocabulary, she was happy that this was definitely not a Thing. He was
handsome, though.

"I mean, yes! I can certainly see the need for someone to type up all the the things you need to have typed up," said Armistice.

"But, my good fellow, you have no idea what it is that I am going to do."

"Well, it could be a good thing!"

"And I can cook," said Constance. Want to be able to cook, she thought. At least I can do toast. Most of the time.

Down near the floor, Vivaldi hiccuped and looked crosseyed. "Ooh, I feel a hangover coming soon," and then he collapsed.

Looking down at the prone form of the dog, Slopeton said, " Well, I've got a talking dog. I might as well have a transcriptionist along on my little venture."

Inside her head, Constance rejoiced. Only because she was getting her mission on track. Definitely not because of the pilot.
"By the way, I'm Armistice Walker. Who are you?"

"Oh, no one. Just an itinerant typist."

Filark · 11-20-2009, 03:17 AM

I love it!

Laughing all the way, and I can really "see" what you're describing!

I think I'll join your fan club.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-20-2009, 11:47 AM

Quote:

She felt an odd tingling in the back of her head. Her sister had told her about this when her Knack had shown itself to be the ability to make budgerigars speak Russian. A tingly, mellow sort of feeling, it had been. Constance had never had her Knack show up. Some people never did. This could not possibly be a Knack, anyway. It was tingly in a mauve sort of way. She gasped, looking around. No budgerigars, thank God. Across the room a man wearing a floppy flight cap was staring at her in an odd way. A Marine walloped him hard and he went down. The tingling stopped.

"tingly in a mauve sort of way". of course.

Quote:

Now, this was the life! Let those other professors of archeology sit in their ivory tower endowed chairs and pontificate on Early American Native Religious Practices 101! Augie Slopeton from the Bronx was a head butting, ear gouging, hands on researcher. And he never got his white linen suit dirty. It paid to have a Knack sometimes, just for the show of it.

Quote:

Having barroom brawls occasionally was one thing, but having them started by a talking dog with a drinking problem was, in Sam's mind, unseemly.

Quote:

"Oh, no one. Just an itinerant typist."

pfff ! like anyone will believe that.

hilarious, pshrynk !! seriously. it's almost like you've been practising or something.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Filark

I think I'll join your fan club.

i think the fan club is going to need a bigger room for meetings.

Sparrow · 11-20-2009, 12:05 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by zelda_pinwheel

i think the fan club is going to need a bigger room for meetings.

Definitely!

pshrynk · 11-20-2009, 05:37 PM

Okay, you don't get to complain aobut the speeling if you keep pushing for exerpts before I even begin to edit.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-20-2009, 05:38 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Okay, you don't get to complain aobut the speeling if you keep pushing for exerpts before I even begin to edit.

just take it as a sign he cares.

(from curiosity, why the different colours on the names ?)

pshrynk · 11-20-2009, 05:43 PM

The writing program I use tags the character, place, and oject names as they appear in the text. I haven't figured out an efficient way to get rid of it here. Also, the spelling errors are colored by the spell checker.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-20-2009, 05:48 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

The writing program I use tags the character, place, and oject names as they appear in the text. I haven't figured out an efficient way to get rid of it here. Also, the spelling errors are colored by the spell checker.

ha okay, i see, so if you forget what you called that pilot guy you can quickly check back for a word in blue (or whatever) and see it was "paddy".

handy trick. can you also automatically change all instances of, say, "ceasefire" to "armistice" automatically ? (purely hypothetical question, obviously. idle curiosity, you know.)

pshrynk · 11-20-2009, 05:55 PM

I haven't tried global changes, but it does have a setting for that. The program builds a story board that you can use for making sure you aren't farking with the time stream and the scenes are tagged by character, etc.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-20-2009, 05:58 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

I haven't tried global changes, but it does have a setting for that. The program builds a story board that you can use for making sure you aren't farking with the time stream and the scenes are tagged by character, etc.

nice !

Sparrow · 11-21-2009, 05:04 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Okay, you don't get to complain aobut the speeling if you keep pushing for exerpts before I even begin to edit.

- I didn't know about the nano-neno 'get it all down, sort it out later' approach.

zelda_pinwheel · 11-21-2009, 08:42 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sparrow

- I didn't know about the nano-neno 'get it all down, sort it out later' approach.

admit it sparrow, you're just coveting my Pendant of Pedantry.

pshrynk · 11-21-2009, 10:57 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sparrow

- I didn't know about the nano-neno 'get it all down, sort it out later' approach.

Yeah, thet was aimed at Vivaldi Rules, actually...

pshrynk · 11-26-2009, 09:22 AM

Looks like someone else got the same deal on a speeling chcker as me:

11-19-2009, 08:58 PM	#16
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	The fight had slowly wound down and ultimately ended when the Shore Patrol had finally made an entrance. Sam imagined that elsewhere in the world, there were Shore Patrols who waded in to bar fights with glee and batons, but not in Havana. The Shore Patrol here was very understanding of the needs of the entrepreneurial taverner and allowed some leeway according to the desires of the location. Sam was quite happy with replacing the tables and chairs and some glassware on a frequent basis. The expense was offset by the general popularity of his bar for the sailors and Marines from the Fleet. And, occasionally there was the odd dollar lying around as he swept up. You just couldn't keep track of everything in your pockets when you're flying across the room in an unconscious state. Over by the bar, Armistice groaned awake and looked around to see if he needed to keep fighting. Satisfied that he did not, he picked up Patrick's beer and slowly poured it over its owner's head. Vivaldi was still tangled up with that missionary. Sam felt that he needed to do something about that dog. Having barroom brawls occasionally was one thing, but having them started by a talking dog with a drinking problem was, in Sam's mind, unseemly. The Professor was in the center of the room, helping a couple of still stunned sailors put a table back together. It was one of the new ones that Sam had designed to collapse under the weight of a body without causing damage to the structure. It looked to save him a lot of cash at some point. The woman who had entered just as the fighting peaked was sitting at one of the un-collapsed tables by the window. She had order something called a Cosmopolitan and had given very specific instructions as to how to do it. Somehow, Sam had been reluctant to give his usual response to such requests. "I got vodka and soda water and you'll like it!" seemed to be a certain route to a broken bone or two. Sam went back behind the bar, lacking any finding of stray dollars on the floor. The professor came up and said, "As you were saying?" Sam pointed at Armistice, who was moving his jaw back and forth with his hand. "Professor Slopeton, Armistice Walker." Armistice looked up from his reveries on how he had managed to be on the losing end of a fist for the first time in years. There was a vision of unbearable beauty in there somewhere, but the details were foggy. Just then a man in a white linen suit came up and proffered his hand. Armistice had never really been proffered anything in his life and he was somewhat confused. "Augustus Slopeton, PhD, at your service, sir!" Armistice looked down at his hand, which was pumping violently up and down and managed to get out, "Armistice Walker. Pleased to meet you." "How does one come to have a moniker of 'Armistice?' It's hardly a normal name." "Well I was named Samuael Langhorne Walker by my parents, who had a fascination with literature. I got the name 'Armistice' because I was born on November eleventh. I was shot down over Germany in the Great War and was in a prisoner camp for five months. On my eighteenth birthday we got let loose. Everyone around me at the time kept telling me it was all because of my birthday and it became 'Armistice's Day' form then on. The name stuck." "Plus it would cause no end of confusion with our friend Sam here, eh?" Slopeton gave Armistice a wink that could only be described as lascivious. It was amazing that that sort of thing could be injected into that particular conversation. "I suppose so. What sort of professor are you, Professor?" "Archeology! The science of the future! As well as the past, eh?" Again with the wink. Armistice figured it was a character flaw. "Ah. How nice." "Precisely!" There didn't seem to be an actual connection between what each participant in the conversation was talking about. "And now, I find that I am in need of a pilot and plane. Sam, here, tells me that you are a pilot with a plane in need of an archeologist, what?" Now the funny talking man in the white suit had Armistice's attention. "Maybe," he said. It didn't pay to be too enthusiastic under these circumstances. 　 Constance sat at her table and wondered how she was going to make contact with Professor Slopeton. He was a man, so the obvious route was availabe, but the recent definitely not a Knack experience had rattled her a bit. She sipped the passable Cosmopolitan that the bartender had quickly whipped up. a bit heavy on the cranberry juice and short on the vodka, but the grenadine was just right. She'd have to work on his technique if she stayed around these parts for very long. The man with whom she had definitely not had a moment was now speaking with Slopeton. She could hear that the conversation was about the professor needing a pilot. Suddenly, it hit her how she could get in on the conversation. It was going to be distasteful. And painful. But it had to be done. She stood up and walked toward the pair at the bar. 　　 "I wonder if you need a qualified transcriptionist, as well, Professor?" Said Constance, horning in on the conversation. Armistice looked at her and said, "Gna!" Vivaldi staggered to the bar and started to drink his beer, which Sam had set on the floor for him. "Looks like you're going to need a room," he said. "Shh!" said the humans. Last edited by pshrynk; 11-20-2009 at 08:49 AM.

11-19-2009, 08:59 PM	#17
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	"I am a very well trained typist, professor. You can probably use one in your line of work." "Well, not really. I manage to hunt and peck my way through my papers quite well on my own." This was not going well. But she had an entrance. She used all her skills aquired in the gambling salons of every riverboat on the Mississippi over all those years wasted on trying to make herself rich. "Well, how about your notes and daily information? I have my own typewriter." She made amental note to steal the portable typewriter she had seen on Biggles' desk. It looke expensive, and above all, light. "Gna!" said the pilot. If this was the extent of his vocabulary, she was happy that this was definitely not a Thing. He was handsome, though. "I mean, yes! I can certainly see the need for someone to type up all the the things you need to have typed up," said Armistice. "But, my good fellow, you have no idea what it is that I am going to do." "Well, it could be a good thing!" "And I can cook," said Constance. Want to be able to cook, she thought. At least I can do toast. Most of the time. Down near the floor, Vivaldi hiccuped and looked crosseyed. "Ooh, I feel a hangover coming soon," and then he collapsed. Looking down at the prone form of the dog, Slopeton said, " Well, I've got a talking dog. I might as well have a transcriptionist along on my little venture." Inside her head, Constance rejoiced. Only because she was getting her mission on track. Definitely not because of the pilot. "By the way, I'm Armistice Walker. Who are you?" "Oh, no one. Just an itinerant typist." Last edited by pshrynk; 11-20-2009 at 08:46 AM.

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11-20-2009, 03:17 AM	#18
Filark Armed with a smile :) Posts: 1,421 Karma: 2463560 Join Date: Sep 2009 Location: California, USA Device: enTourage eDGe & Pocket eDGe, Samsung Galaxy Note II	I love it! Laughing all the way, and I can really "see" what you're describing! I think I'll join your fan club.

11-20-2009, 05:37 PM	#21
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	Okay, you don't get to complain aobut the speeling if you keep pushing for exerpts before I even begin to edit.

11-20-2009, 05:43 PM	#23
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	The writing program I use tags the character, place, and oject names as they appear in the text. I haven't figured out an efficient way to get rid of it here. Also, the spelling errors are colored by the spell checker.

11-20-2009, 05:55 PM	#25
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	I haven't tried global changes, but it does have a setting for that. The program builds a story board that you can use for making sure you aren't farking with the time stream and the scenes are tagged by character, etc.

11-26-2009, 09:22 AM	#30
pshrynk Beepbeep n beebeep, yeah! Posts: 11,726 Karma: 8255450 Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: La Crosse, Wisconsin, aka America's IceBox Device: iThingie, KmkII, I miss Zelda!	Looks like someone else got the same deal on a speeling chcker as me:

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