Justric Member
STATUS: No longer here. youtube.com/watch?v=RLBo1HJK.. 9 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Justric
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Hob is just sitting in the cafeteria, drooling over a sandwich...
No worries, Lillian! I'm looking forward to it! And maybe I'll have something waiting for you in your PM box?
Tambernanny lowered his head and arched his one eyebrow as he looked up at her upon her magnificent steed. She truly looked as something out of the ancient stories and legends, the queen of the night and darkness and secrets before him as the pale moonlight shown down upon her from the open door. “You wish me upon this adventure? Truly?” Shaking his head at the folly of the nobles, he reluctantly pulled himself from his comfortable bed of sweet smelling hay to saddle the old mare. “As you so command your Majesty. For a time, at least. Although I should be properly dressed, should I not?”
Reaching into his jerkin, he pulled forth a simple mask of black feathers. A single white feather stood out meekly near the corner of his left eye, one lone virtue against the vices of the face he wore - the sign of The Rook. The gods and goddess who wore the feathers of the corbies were as neutral to the affairs of their fellow deities as they were to those of mortals, an independent sort who wished neither woe nor weal upon others but instead served their own whims. They were the lords and ladies of intelligence, of adventure, and of most of all luck. Strange that this minstrel should happen to so have a masked, however raggedy, so immediately at hand when summoned.
Donning the mask, he paused for a moment as though letting its aspect fulfill him. Then he mounted upon the mare solemnly and proceeded to follow Seraphina out of the stables, through the courtyard, and beneath the bailey’s main gate to pass into the world beyond. None stopped or cried halt. Indeed, no one even seemed to have noticed their presence as they left and rode silently onto the road that wound about the countryside and into the woods.
“Did you ever think,” Tambernanny suddenly asked when they were a distance away, “that both endings your mother gave you are true? Or that all versions are the same in their own way? The tale of the Black Swam and the Devil Himself is an ancient one, and all versions have the truth of it in them.” He chuckled with a smirk upon his lips as he raised his head to the moon. “Then again, perhaps the Cuckoo is the one who spread the tale. It was ever his nature to deceive with the truth, after all. Look at the tale of the Sparrow Maiden!”
He said little more then, merely following her along until they passed through the strangely still town and reached the very edge of the Moorland Woods. It was said there were eldritch things that happened in such dark, enchanting places, especially on Cuckoo’s Eve. Ancient spirits long forgotten came to life, beings neither wholly evil or blessed but alien all the same. The Gods were said to descend from the heavens to dance among the trees, shedding their feathers and beaks to stand as men and women in their own company and of those they favored. The dead, too, were said to return to the world to remember once more what it was to live and to be alive. The hedge of the woods seemed to thrum with the promise that anything could happen within. It might not, of course. One could enter the forests of the world upon this night and see nor hear anything of the ordinary, or perhaps the phantoms summoned up were spun only from their own imaginations and fears. It was only the promise of a possibility, after all, not the solemn vow that one would be changed.
Somehow, that made the nerves tingle all the more in fear and anticipation. Like death, like life, it was the unknown that spread out before the Queen and the Rook between the trees and hillocks within the Moorland Woods.
“There are bandits, your Majesty,” Tambernanny warned softly as they paused at the entrance to the woods. “Even on such a night, mundane dangers take no holiday. Best you be on your guard. I will serve as your knight where I may, but it is a poor knight that a jester makes. The one waiting for you within… His wrath would be most terrible were you to allow yourself to come to harm.”
Reaching into his jerkin, he pulled forth a simple mask of black feathers. A single white feather stood out meekly near the corner of his left eye, one lone virtue against the vices of the face he wore - the sign of The Rook. The gods and goddess who wore the feathers of the corbies were as neutral to the affairs of their fellow deities as they were to those of mortals, an independent sort who wished neither woe nor weal upon others but instead served their own whims. They were the lords and ladies of intelligence, of adventure, and of most of all luck. Strange that this minstrel should happen to so have a masked, however raggedy, so immediately at hand when summoned.
Donning the mask, he paused for a moment as though letting its aspect fulfill him. Then he mounted upon the mare solemnly and proceeded to follow Seraphina out of the stables, through the courtyard, and beneath the bailey’s main gate to pass into the world beyond. None stopped or cried halt. Indeed, no one even seemed to have noticed their presence as they left and rode silently onto the road that wound about the countryside and into the woods.
“Did you ever think,” Tambernanny suddenly asked when they were a distance away, “that both endings your mother gave you are true? Or that all versions are the same in their own way? The tale of the Black Swam and the Devil Himself is an ancient one, and all versions have the truth of it in them.” He chuckled with a smirk upon his lips as he raised his head to the moon. “Then again, perhaps the Cuckoo is the one who spread the tale. It was ever his nature to deceive with the truth, after all. Look at the tale of the Sparrow Maiden!”
He said little more then, merely following her along until they passed through the strangely still town and reached the very edge of the Moorland Woods. It was said there were eldritch things that happened in such dark, enchanting places, especially on Cuckoo’s Eve. Ancient spirits long forgotten came to life, beings neither wholly evil or blessed but alien all the same. The Gods were said to descend from the heavens to dance among the trees, shedding their feathers and beaks to stand as men and women in their own company and of those they favored. The dead, too, were said to return to the world to remember once more what it was to live and to be alive. The hedge of the woods seemed to thrum with the promise that anything could happen within. It might not, of course. One could enter the forests of the world upon this night and see nor hear anything of the ordinary, or perhaps the phantoms summoned up were spun only from their own imaginations and fears. It was only the promise of a possibility, after all, not the solemn vow that one would be changed.
Somehow, that made the nerves tingle all the more in fear and anticipation. Like death, like life, it was the unknown that spread out before the Queen and the Rook between the trees and hillocks within the Moorland Woods.
“There are bandits, your Majesty,” Tambernanny warned softly as they paused at the entrance to the woods. “Even on such a night, mundane dangers take no holiday. Best you be on your guard. I will serve as your knight where I may, but it is a poor knight that a jester makes. The one waiting for you within… His wrath would be most terrible were you to allow yourself to come to harm.”
Hob chuckled as he accepted the loaded plate and put it before him, eyes dancing with delight. "Oh, believe me. I'll be back." A moment of honesty caused his eyes to flicker with a moment of doubt as he reached first for another cookie. The sandwich looked so... impossibly delicious that he almost didn't know if he could eat it and do destroy the perfection he saw it in. "If I can."
Glancing up again, he smiled at the couple. They looked cute, the way all potential couples might when they first started out. "Have fun, you two!"
Jack was more than easy going, although from his point of view he didn't see why she might want to change. He thought she looked... and smelled... just fine! If he had any expectations when Penny mentioned going back to her place, it didn't show. "Sector B?" he asked politely with eyebrows raised. "Some easy! We goes from where we are here down over to Corridor 19C, see? Den der's a left. Can't go any which ways but left, but left's the way. Goes into Corridor 26C. Now to gets from where you're at der to, der's dis hatchway marked Zed-49-C. You don't want dat. Instead, you goes a gunshot further along til you finds yourself at Corridor 12B an' takes that to B Section proper. From 12B you then goes along to the elevator dat will take you up to Residential B. Now 117 is at the far end-"
He stopped suddenly, realizing he was losing her. "Tell you what, duck. How's I just takes you where it is der to from where we are now, b'y."
Happy to have Penny arm in arm with him, Jack led her back towards her quarters. He pointed out a few landmarks along the way to help her navigate a bit better in the future, small tiny things that would help her differentiate one passageway from another in the future. Should things look promising down the line, Jack pondered taking the shortcuts that were available to him as a ship's custodian. There were access tunnels and the like he had access to which were off limits to most other personnel, places he could go where no one would look twice at him if he had a mop in hand. It was just such a place he intended on taking Penny for their first date.
Like a gentleman, Jack saw her to her door and after giving her a friendly wink strolled down the hall a little ways to wait in the lounge. It was a small communal area where folks could gather to talk, play games, dance, watch movies, and otherwise entertain themselves off duty. It was important for people to have their leisure time, Jack knew. Command seemed to have agreed. The only thing these residential lounges lacked was anything remotely resembling alcohol. While a far cry from being a lush of any kind, that did worry Jack. Was New Canaan to be a dry colony? Were the arts of brewing and distilling to be lost to mankind during their journey across the stars, or was Command simply banking on someone having the know-how to do these things properly once they were all settled?
His musings were brought short when Penny appeared again, washed and changed for their date. The very sight of her caused his jaw to drop just a bit. Jack had to admit he had been flat out wrong about not seeing her need to change, and difference between then and now truly made his heart flutter a bit.
"Laird-d-thumpin' Jaysus," he breathed in appreciation. A wider smile came to his lips as his eyes danced merrily.
Glancing up again, he smiled at the couple. They looked cute, the way all potential couples might when they first started out. "Have fun, you two!"
Jack was more than easy going, although from his point of view he didn't see why she might want to change. He thought she looked... and smelled... just fine! If he had any expectations when Penny mentioned going back to her place, it didn't show. "Sector B?" he asked politely with eyebrows raised. "Some easy! We goes from where we are here down over to Corridor 19C, see? Den der's a left. Can't go any which ways but left, but left's the way. Goes into Corridor 26C. Now to gets from where you're at der to, der's dis hatchway marked Zed-49-C. You don't want dat. Instead, you goes a gunshot further along til you finds yourself at Corridor 12B an' takes that to B Section proper. From 12B you then goes along to the elevator dat will take you up to Residential B. Now 117 is at the far end-"
He stopped suddenly, realizing he was losing her. "Tell you what, duck. How's I just takes you where it is der to from where we are now, b'y."
Happy to have Penny arm in arm with him, Jack led her back towards her quarters. He pointed out a few landmarks along the way to help her navigate a bit better in the future, small tiny things that would help her differentiate one passageway from another in the future. Should things look promising down the line, Jack pondered taking the shortcuts that were available to him as a ship's custodian. There were access tunnels and the like he had access to which were off limits to most other personnel, places he could go where no one would look twice at him if he had a mop in hand. It was just such a place he intended on taking Penny for their first date.
Like a gentleman, Jack saw her to her door and after giving her a friendly wink strolled down the hall a little ways to wait in the lounge. It was a small communal area where folks could gather to talk, play games, dance, watch movies, and otherwise entertain themselves off duty. It was important for people to have their leisure time, Jack knew. Command seemed to have agreed. The only thing these residential lounges lacked was anything remotely resembling alcohol. While a far cry from being a lush of any kind, that did worry Jack. Was New Canaan to be a dry colony? Were the arts of brewing and distilling to be lost to mankind during their journey across the stars, or was Command simply banking on someone having the know-how to do these things properly once they were all settled?
His musings were brought short when Penny appeared again, washed and changed for their date. The very sight of her caused his jaw to drop just a bit. Jack had to admit he had been flat out wrong about not seeing her need to change, and difference between then and now truly made his heart flutter a bit.
"Laird-d-thumpin' Jaysus," he breathed in appreciation. A wider smile came to his lips as his eyes danced merrily.
Looking forward to it, Heroes!! Welcome back!
Yay, Dot!
Igraine?
'Two by two, hands of blue...'
Igraine?
"Let me wash my hands here, get some gloves, and I guess we'll see what we'll see there... "
'Two by two, hands of blue...'
Sorry to hear about the delay, but you'll do awesome! You'll see!
Hob's eyes boggled at the sheer look of the proffered meal. It was not merely the smell of it, which had his mouth watering before she was even twenty steps away from his table. Nor was it just the size of the portion, a generous helping that would have put any of the steak houses back on Earth to shame in their desire to please. It was the presentation itself that stunned the NI-tech! What food looked like on the menu and what a person normally received tended to be only distantly related at best, the pictured meals little more than sculptures that rarely involved any actual food. What Penny was offering looked like it came off the menu! Even the pickles looked crisp, and he could tell just by looking at the spears that they would crunch in his mouth with the same satisfaction found in biting into a truly fresh vegetable.
She had a mischievous look in her eye as she held the plate just up out of Hob's reach. His eyes were glued to it like a dog impatiently waiting for its master to give it a treat as he stammered, "No, no, sure! Sorry, I should have said something earlier. It's just that I'm really hungry, and you have no idea how glad I am to be here right now! My name's-"
It dawned on him then that in less than the two full sentences he had gotten out, the woman's attention had been drawn away. Frowning, half scared to see either one of the doctors or ship's security bearing down on him, he turned in his seat. Hob didn't notice anything threatening. The only thing he noticed was a short but handsome young man leaning against the door way and staring back at Penny with a goofy grin on his face. The sight of someone wearing regular clothes made Hob sigh. All that he had, and most of the other NI-techs for that matter, were a few of the same rust colored jumpsuits issued to them. He pondered on whether or not this new woman, Naomi, might be able to scrounge up some regular clothing for his teammates. That was better than thinking about what she might say when she found out that Hob was avoiding all the required medical check ups!
It wouldn't quite be fair to say that after being seen Jack swaggered over to Penny. His walk was an easy, graceful motion, though, one full of self-confidence and humor but with little arrogance. Perhaps it was because he had spent a goodly portion of his childhood on boats that had given him such a well balanced and casual motion. Whatever it was, the Newfie strolled right up to Penny as though she were the only thing in the world. Jack may not have been an overly complicated man; no one, however little they might know him, would ever accuse him of being less than attentive towards others. The focus was all on Penny now. He looked down into her face much as he had when they had met, enjoying the lines of it and the curves her cheek before speaking.
"Whattaya at, duck?" he greeted her softly with a smile. With a flourish, he reached up with one hand and tipped his hat to her in an archaic gesture that didn't seem all that outdated when he did it.
Hob had to smile knowingly. This guy was either real deal or one hell of an actor! He hoped for Penny's sake that it was the former. "Hob," he said by way of greeting as he stuck his hand out, "Just Hob. NI-tech and starving man."
Jack's grin got wider as he looked over at the taller man. "Jack," he said, "Jack Pumphrey. Cleanin' fella. How's it cuttin' der, me son?" He cocked his head to one side even as he shook Hob's preferred hand. "NI-tech? What, in dem der sliding coffins an' everyting? Laird love ya, b'y! Not for all the fish in Bonavist Harbor! I'd have got the sooners were I you, all dem wires in your crown. Walked in by accident on dem taking some duck out start of Shift, all dem wires an' tubes. Didn't know whether to shit 'r go blind 'fore they ran me out. Bless yar cotton socks for doing' it, son!"
Hob could only blink at the man, trying to figure out what in the world he had just said. There had been a note of sympathy in the man's voice, he was fairly sure of that. Anything else was just guesswork on Hob's part without some sort of translation. He fell back on what he was sure of in order to avoid embarrassment.
"Am I... ah... keeping you two?" he asked of them curiously. While his own love life had been a strange and varied one, especially of late, the musician and artist thought he recognized the classic clues of a date in progress. There was a chance he was wrong, yes, but years of making Art imitate Life had given the man a great number of insights as to the human soul. Not all of those insights were pleasant. Most of them weren't in fact. That made scenes like this one all the more heart warming to the bitter soul.
"Not a bit of it, b'y!" Jack waved off negligently.
Hob had some trouble wrapping his brain around that last statement as well, the man's accent truly being atrocious, deciding instead to let it go in favor of finally getting to eat what he could only picture as the meal of his dreams. He almost had to wonder if he was still hooked into the cyber-world of the computer somehow!
She had a mischievous look in her eye as she held the plate just up out of Hob's reach. His eyes were glued to it like a dog impatiently waiting for its master to give it a treat as he stammered, "No, no, sure! Sorry, I should have said something earlier. It's just that I'm really hungry, and you have no idea how glad I am to be here right now! My name's-"
It dawned on him then that in less than the two full sentences he had gotten out, the woman's attention had been drawn away. Frowning, half scared to see either one of the doctors or ship's security bearing down on him, he turned in his seat. Hob didn't notice anything threatening. The only thing he noticed was a short but handsome young man leaning against the door way and staring back at Penny with a goofy grin on his face. The sight of someone wearing regular clothes made Hob sigh. All that he had, and most of the other NI-techs for that matter, were a few of the same rust colored jumpsuits issued to them. He pondered on whether or not this new woman, Naomi, might be able to scrounge up some regular clothing for his teammates. That was better than thinking about what she might say when she found out that Hob was avoiding all the required medical check ups!
It wouldn't quite be fair to say that after being seen Jack swaggered over to Penny. His walk was an easy, graceful motion, though, one full of self-confidence and humor but with little arrogance. Perhaps it was because he had spent a goodly portion of his childhood on boats that had given him such a well balanced and casual motion. Whatever it was, the Newfie strolled right up to Penny as though she were the only thing in the world. Jack may not have been an overly complicated man; no one, however little they might know him, would ever accuse him of being less than attentive towards others. The focus was all on Penny now. He looked down into her face much as he had when they had met, enjoying the lines of it and the curves her cheek before speaking.
"Whattaya at, duck?" he greeted her softly with a smile. With a flourish, he reached up with one hand and tipped his hat to her in an archaic gesture that didn't seem all that outdated when he did it.
Hob had to smile knowingly. This guy was either real deal or one hell of an actor! He hoped for Penny's sake that it was the former. "Hob," he said by way of greeting as he stuck his hand out, "Just Hob. NI-tech and starving man."
Jack's grin got wider as he looked over at the taller man. "Jack," he said, "Jack Pumphrey. Cleanin' fella. How's it cuttin' der, me son?" He cocked his head to one side even as he shook Hob's preferred hand. "NI-tech? What, in dem der sliding coffins an' everyting? Laird love ya, b'y! Not for all the fish in Bonavist Harbor! I'd have got the sooners were I you, all dem wires in your crown. Walked in by accident on dem taking some duck out start of Shift, all dem wires an' tubes. Didn't know whether to shit 'r go blind 'fore they ran me out. Bless yar cotton socks for doing' it, son!"
Hob could only blink at the man, trying to figure out what in the world he had just said. There had been a note of sympathy in the man's voice, he was fairly sure of that. Anything else was just guesswork on Hob's part without some sort of translation. He fell back on what he was sure of in order to avoid embarrassment.
"Am I... ah... keeping you two?" he asked of them curiously. While his own love life had been a strange and varied one, especially of late, the musician and artist thought he recognized the classic clues of a date in progress. There was a chance he was wrong, yes, but years of making Art imitate Life had given the man a great number of insights as to the human soul. Not all of those insights were pleasant. Most of them weren't in fact. That made scenes like this one all the more heart warming to the bitter soul.
"Not a bit of it, b'y!" Jack waved off negligently.
Hob had some trouble wrapping his brain around that last statement as well, the man's accent truly being atrocious, deciding instead to let it go in favor of finally getting to eat what he could only picture as the meal of his dreams. He almost had to wonder if he was still hooked into the cyber-world of the computer somehow!
Either that or find a fourth so they can play Bridge.
Kuro - I think Connor, Hob, and Deli need to all sit down and have a beer at some point so they can complain about always having their heads scanned.
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