When the sound of the wagon was close enough to the cabin to be heard, Daron placed his patch of knitted yarn upon the table and took station at the window, standing to the side of it and peering around it to keep watch. He kept his stance in tense focus as the wagon drew near. His mind raced over what to do with the possibilities of who could possibly be arriving, and what to say. He'd have the deed ready for proof of ownership. He'd have some gold coin ready if there was a collection for property tax already being made. Hopefully it wouldn't be a county sheriff looking for the child, or him, or Whitney. The wait for the arrival seemed to be interminable to Daron as he watched the procession. His body relaxed and he put himself into open view behind the window when the wagon came to a stop and he saw a lady emerge from the passenger compartment, holding one young child by the hand in each of her own as she stood upon the ground to assist them out. The driver of the wagon kept to himself and stared blankly away from them as they disembarked. With the children out, the woman reached into the wagon and pulled a large stuffed sack out, which she struggled to lift towards her and fell to the ground once it was pulled free. The woman said "thank you" out loud to the driver, who said nothing in response and snapped the reins down to compel the horse to move. The horse and carriage drew a large circle and left the three persons behind. The woman watched the carriage trail off with a visible sigh, then turned to the sack on the ground. She clenched the end of it tightly with both hands and began to drag it on the dirt, pulling it towards the house in sharp tugs which conveyed little distance. The children were too little to offer any assistance and merely walked in her wake. Her handling of the bag caused Daron to think of his handling of Whitney and caused him to briefly shudder. He quickly left the cabin and went outside to approach the beleaguered woman.
"You're taking that here, I assume, ma'am?"
"Yes. Can I please ask for your help?"
Daron was already walking over to the woman as she asked for his assistance and wordlessly took the bag up and heaved it over his back, then stood beside her.
"Let's return to the cabin, ma'am."
She demurely said thanks and walked in the lead towards the doorway. Daron nodded to the children who stared at him blankly until the woman's urging caused them to follow her. Jesse stood attentively by his seat at the table as they entered. Daron gently laid the bag to the side of the doorway before closing it shut, then addressed the woman with a faint bow at the waist.
"Well uh, welcome to our home, ma'am. I was not expecting any kind of visitor. My name is Daron, the child's name is Jesse."
"Nice to meet you. I am Mrs. Whitney Poole."
Daron felt the blood rush from her face as she spoke the name. His mind rushed over the immediate future and the possible permutations for how this situation would resolve.
"Is my husband nearby?"
"I uh, um. I'm afraid to tell you Mrs. Poole that um, no, he isn't. There was a, a uh, a recent accident. He had an unfortunate accident, ma'am."
"What ever do you mean? Was he taken to a hospital of some kind?"
Daron ruminated and darted his eyes upon the ground. Now it all made sense. Now everything that had happened finally made sense. The attack was no sudden wild impulse, nor was it a drunken rampage. It was his plan all along. Whitney did that with the intent to make room for his family to move in.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
18380221 18:03:30
"The very idea seems preposterous and repugnant." Frederic now sat upright on the edge of his seat and glared at Daron. "I fail to see how you would be able to get this to happen without having all of your people being overrun by sin in short time. Who would you propose to even oversee this kind of operation? You? Is this something you would do?"
"Me? Nah, I know I ain't got it in me. When I had to take care of Whitney that day, I lost it. Just thinking about it now makes me weak in the heart. No, I'll need to find a way to get a man appointed to it, make it his job."
"And... in this kind of unbelievable situation, how would that man know what's approved for him to do or not?"
"Well, who's the guy who tells him what's legal or not right now? A judge. A court judge. Yeah, so, what if we were to do it where the judge sets down a list... sets down things the guy can do which are not going to be punished by the court."
"So now you are looking to enshrine a corrupt judge in addition to an official criminal. Surely you see the folly in all of this, Daron."
"I'm just trying... trying to figure out how to get a handle, get control of this all. Just got to think of something new, some way to change things to get a different outcome. We have the good of us, we have the Church, we have each other relying upon each other, but that isn't enough. The bad ain't being shamed or stopped out of being bad. What we doing now isn't working. So we gotta try something else. S'all there is. So, now, we gotta put this in writing. Make an official judge and figure out how to go from there."
"Me? Nah, I know I ain't got it in me. When I had to take care of Whitney that day, I lost it. Just thinking about it now makes me weak in the heart. No, I'll need to find a way to get a man appointed to it, make it his job."
"And... in this kind of unbelievable situation, how would that man know what's approved for him to do or not?"
"Well, who's the guy who tells him what's legal or not right now? A judge. A court judge. Yeah, so, what if we were to do it where the judge sets down a list... sets down things the guy can do which are not going to be punished by the court."
"So now you are looking to enshrine a corrupt judge in addition to an official criminal. Surely you see the folly in all of this, Daron."
"I'm just trying... trying to figure out how to get a handle, get control of this all. Just got to think of something new, some way to change things to get a different outcome. We have the good of us, we have the Church, we have each other relying upon each other, but that isn't enough. The bad ain't being shamed or stopped out of being bad. What we doing now isn't working. So we gotta try something else. S'all there is. So, now, we gotta put this in writing. Make an official judge and figure out how to go from there."
Thursday, September 13, 2012
18351225 02:56:11
The wheezing stopped, leaving the wind scraping against the roof to be the only noise they heard inside the cabin over their breathing. Jesse rocked in place and still succumbed to an inadvertent cough while finally regaining the last bits of his composure. Daron kneaded his hands and curled his lips over the repulsive sensation of blood congealing in his hands - he still was unsure if the blood was his or Whitney's, but knew that he couldn't take the risk to find out while the room was dark. They were both rankled and paralyzed by the sudden attack and resolution, and sat in darkness on opposite sides of the moonlight shining upon the floor. The only reminder that Whitney's corpse lay somewhere between them was the smell which clung to their nostrils.
"Now... now what we gonna do?" Jesse shook his head sharply after speaking. He was still winded and dizzy. There was a long pause before he received an answer.
"Only thing we can do is get him out of here and wait until sunrise. Light the lantern."
"I don't know where-"
"Feel around for it. It's by the bed. Hug the wall and crawl over to it. Matches are by it."
Jesse nodded and took a moment to summon the strength to rise to his knees and kneel upon the ground. He threw himself off balance in the motion and lurched forward. Instinctively, he reached out in front of him to prevent himself from falling to his face, and planted his hands upon Whitney's body. The surface of it was already cold to the touch. The sensation caused Jesse to recoil backwards and his stomach to churn as a wave of dread tingled throughout his veins. The motion threw his back to the sodden wall of the cabin, which allowed him to quickly reorient himself and go about to find the lantern. He crawled on his hands and knees in the darkness, reaching for the edge of the room and not wanting to return to the middle of it. After inching forward nervously and finding no further obstruction, he ambled on all fours with his body scraping the wall until he came upon the wooden frame where the lantern was standing. Jesse wrapped his hands around it and then reached up to feel at the top, and found the glass of the lantern with his fingertips. He pawed around the base of the lantern and found the slender box where the matches were kept. He thanked the Lord that it was still there and pulled his body up from his hands as he anchored them into the stand. He slid the box open and struck a match and turned his head directly towards it to assuredly light the wick with the first attempt.
Though their eyes adjusted to the light, neither Daron or Jesse were able to comprehend the horror in their sight. Red blood coated Whitney's torso and glistened in the lantern's glow. Specks of shattered glass which protruded from the open lacerations in his neck caught reflections from the illumination. Jesse snapped his vision away in a horrified reflex and absently dropped the lit match to the ground, but still had enough sense to stamp it into the dirt. Daron squinted at his hands and expanded his fingers to inspect them, but was not able to see anything beyond a smudged coating over the digits. He flexed his fingers in and out, and finally was able to discern a few flaps of flesh which bent around the rest of his hand. The adrenaline rush still prevented him from feeling pain, but he knew to not wait for that circumstance to arrive before addressing the issue.
"Jesse, get a shirt. I need you to wrap it around my wrists."
"Okay."
Jesse kept his head away from the center of the room and walked back to the side of his bedding where a loose shirt was laying on the ground. He took it up and walked over to Daron and held it out to him.
"No, you gotta do it. Tear it up first."
Jesse pulled at the shirt from a hole in the middle and clenched his teeth as he pulled away at it from the sides until it split apart in his hands. He finished separating the pieces and knelt down in front of Daron, wrapped one of the halves around his right wrist, and tied it into a knot which he pulled as tightly as he could. Daron stood up after he had both wrists tied down and reached down to pick up Whitney's arms, then pulled sharply upon the body to inch it closer to the door. Daron only had enough strength in his grip to drag the body out with one protracted lurch at a time.
"Now... now what we gonna do?" Jesse shook his head sharply after speaking. He was still winded and dizzy. There was a long pause before he received an answer.
"Only thing we can do is get him out of here and wait until sunrise. Light the lantern."
"I don't know where-"
"Feel around for it. It's by the bed. Hug the wall and crawl over to it. Matches are by it."
Jesse nodded and took a moment to summon the strength to rise to his knees and kneel upon the ground. He threw himself off balance in the motion and lurched forward. Instinctively, he reached out in front of him to prevent himself from falling to his face, and planted his hands upon Whitney's body. The surface of it was already cold to the touch. The sensation caused Jesse to recoil backwards and his stomach to churn as a wave of dread tingled throughout his veins. The motion threw his back to the sodden wall of the cabin, which allowed him to quickly reorient himself and go about to find the lantern. He crawled on his hands and knees in the darkness, reaching for the edge of the room and not wanting to return to the middle of it. After inching forward nervously and finding no further obstruction, he ambled on all fours with his body scraping the wall until he came upon the wooden frame where the lantern was standing. Jesse wrapped his hands around it and then reached up to feel at the top, and found the glass of the lantern with his fingertips. He pawed around the base of the lantern and found the slender box where the matches were kept. He thanked the Lord that it was still there and pulled his body up from his hands as he anchored them into the stand. He slid the box open and struck a match and turned his head directly towards it to assuredly light the wick with the first attempt.
Though their eyes adjusted to the light, neither Daron or Jesse were able to comprehend the horror in their sight. Red blood coated Whitney's torso and glistened in the lantern's glow. Specks of shattered glass which protruded from the open lacerations in his neck caught reflections from the illumination. Jesse snapped his vision away in a horrified reflex and absently dropped the lit match to the ground, but still had enough sense to stamp it into the dirt. Daron squinted at his hands and expanded his fingers to inspect them, but was not able to see anything beyond a smudged coating over the digits. He flexed his fingers in and out, and finally was able to discern a few flaps of flesh which bent around the rest of his hand. The adrenaline rush still prevented him from feeling pain, but he knew to not wait for that circumstance to arrive before addressing the issue.
"Jesse, get a shirt. I need you to wrap it around my wrists."
"Okay."
Jesse kept his head away from the center of the room and walked back to the side of his bedding where a loose shirt was laying on the ground. He took it up and walked over to Daron and held it out to him.
"No, you gotta do it. Tear it up first."
Jesse pulled at the shirt from a hole in the middle and clenched his teeth as he pulled away at it from the sides until it split apart in his hands. He finished separating the pieces and knelt down in front of Daron, wrapped one of the halves around his right wrist, and tied it into a knot which he pulled as tightly as he could. Daron stood up after he had both wrists tied down and reached down to pick up Whitney's arms, then pulled sharply upon the body to inch it closer to the door. Daron only had enough strength in his grip to drag the body out with one protracted lurch at a time.
Friday, September 7, 2012
18380221 17:58:54
"Dear Daron, perhaps I should better state the issue in this manner." Frederic paused to properly formulate this assertion, but suddenly chose a different means to continue the conversation. Daron didn't respond well to being outright told that he was wrong, even if he was. He had to help lead him to this conclusion on his own. "See, what you are looking to do is reform the sinister men whom you speak of now. You want to end their criminal actions. But you already have one Church here and you see that you all attend it faithfully. You all profess your faith but several seem to lack the ability to adhere to it. If these men who act in this way do so without fear of being dishonest to the truly highest of authority, how do you expect them to respect you?"
"Freddy, Fred. You overthinkin this. Listen to me again - I want to make the bad guys the good guys. Ain't got nothin to do with the Lord or the Church. It's about a ... a name. A title. Those bad folks... they bad because we just say they bad. But that's just them doin what they know to do. They doin what they done to live. Ain't no other way they will. So that's how we fight it - by making it our own."
Frederic stared blankly and unable to speak for an extended moment. He felt that this idea which Daron was stating was now losing basis in reality.
"I... I fail to comprehend you. You are just going to decide to let lawlessness be the law? You are going to simply let rule be set by anarchists? That is impossible, that is prepos-"
"No, no, see, not all lawlessness. There will be law, yes. There will always be law. And there will always be folk who try to get around the law. So, here's the thing to do. What you do is, you say to a certain part of those folk, you tell them that their lawlessness is acceptable. You see? There ain't no cops where there ain't no robbers. There ain't no robbers without cops on em. They on the same coin. What we do is we mint that coin. Ha ha, see! See it!"
"Freddy, Fred. You overthinkin this. Listen to me again - I want to make the bad guys the good guys. Ain't got nothin to do with the Lord or the Church. It's about a ... a name. A title. Those bad folks... they bad because we just say they bad. But that's just them doin what they know to do. They doin what they done to live. Ain't no other way they will. So that's how we fight it - by making it our own."
Frederic stared blankly and unable to speak for an extended moment. He felt that this idea which Daron was stating was now losing basis in reality.
"I... I fail to comprehend you. You are just going to decide to let lawlessness be the law? You are going to simply let rule be set by anarchists? That is impossible, that is prepos-"
"No, no, see, not all lawlessness. There will be law, yes. There will always be law. And there will always be folk who try to get around the law. So, here's the thing to do. What you do is, you say to a certain part of those folk, you tell them that their lawlessness is acceptable. You see? There ain't no cops where there ain't no robbers. There ain't no robbers without cops on em. They on the same coin. What we do is we mint that coin. Ha ha, see! See it!"
Thursday, September 6, 2012
18351225 02:44:09
Daron and Jesse slept peacefully while being watched over in pensive study. The difference was that in this night, there was wine served with the Christmas meal, and alcohol wasn't consumed by either of the men since they had arrived here in October. Whitney assumed from Daron's age and physique that he would be more susceptible to the drink than he would be, and his suspicion seemed to be holding true at the present moment. He gingerly crept over to where Daron was sleeping and clapped loudly once by his face. He responded by snoring more loudly.
Whitney decided that the child would be first. He would be easier to suppress and subdue. All he'd have to do is smother over the body and apply pressure to the neck. Put him to sleep. That done, there would be one less obstacle against him for his plan. With each step towards Jesse he curled his bare feet against the hardened dirt and concentrated on being silent. He took position at Jesse's feet and knelt before them, and paused a few moments to collect his focus. This was the time he was waiting for. This was it. This was the first of the last obstacles to overcome before he'd be free.
Jesse suddenly stirred and mumbled a moan in his sleep, but eventually shifted his body to slouch to the side and resumed his slumber. This was the time. This was the time he wanted. Whitney moved his legs behind him to kneel with his feet pressed to the ground so that he could pounce upon Jesse as he slept. In a blink, he launched and landed upon him. Before Jesse could wake to respond, Whitney wrapped his hands around Jesse's neck and leaned his torso forward to pin Jesse's arms down with his elbows. Whitney also dug his kneecaps into Jesse's thighs. Jesse shook his body violently but did little to shift Whitney out of position. He flailed his arms but was unable to grab at anything. He started to groan loudly, screamed against his vocal chords but made no sound louder than a coarse hum. Jesse's eyes seemed to pop out from his head, against which Whitney glared without blinking. Jesse kept trying to flail and scream, and his peals were quickly losing duration and strength. Finally, Jesse managed to wiggle a leg free and thrust it into the center of Whitney's crotch. The impact caused him to roll off and lose grip, which gave Jesse a chance to take in a breath and cough violently as he gasped for air.
The sudden noise caused Daron to wake, but he was still slowed by the alcohol consumed earlier and didn't understand the commotion which was nearby but he couldn't see in the darkness.
"What's going on?" Daron called out to the room.
"Choke!" Jesse said the word in a sickly creak through heaps of coughing from the bottom of his lungs.
Daron roused himself to his feet and made a quick hobble over to Jesse's direction, but only made it halfway across the room before he was tackled and punched in the face when he was on the ground. The impact stunned him and he laid on the ground in a daze as the body quickly rolled off of him and walked back to Jesse. The child screamed out as he was smothered again. Daron felt at the side of the log wall for the empty wine bottle and grasped at the air wildly until he knocked it over to the ground. He took the bottle into his hand and quickly rolled himself upright. With a scream, Daron dove towards the noise and dashed to the lump of bodies. He smothered himself over both of them and felt for the neck of the person underneath him. His fingers found the collarbone. Daron wound the bottle back and struck it down to hit the back of the head. The glass shattered and left him holding the broken neck of the bottle. The impact caused Whitney to roll of off Jesse again, but Daron didn't lose his sense of touch to Whitney's neck. When he hit his back to the ground, Daron knelt over his body and shoved the broken wine bottle into the flesh by his fingertips. Within seconds he felt liquid pour over his hands as he plunged the glass into unseen flesh. Whitney gurgled a scream as the glass cut into the veins of his neck. Daron continued to grind the glass into the neck until he could press the tips of the fingers holding the glass against Whitney's blood soaked flesh. Whitney writhed and moaned in agony. Daron clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth together as he struggled to keep the glass impaled into Whitney's body. The flailing diminished in moments until it gradually came to an end. Jesse continued to cough coarsely and sit upright in his bedding. As the adrenaline receded from his blood and the smell of blood and excrement filled the air, Daron reeled and turned to the side to vomit. He continued to heave dryly for several minute after he emptied the contents of his stomach to the ground.
Whitney decided that the child would be first. He would be easier to suppress and subdue. All he'd have to do is smother over the body and apply pressure to the neck. Put him to sleep. That done, there would be one less obstacle against him for his plan. With each step towards Jesse he curled his bare feet against the hardened dirt and concentrated on being silent. He took position at Jesse's feet and knelt before them, and paused a few moments to collect his focus. This was the time he was waiting for. This was it. This was the first of the last obstacles to overcome before he'd be free.
Jesse suddenly stirred and mumbled a moan in his sleep, but eventually shifted his body to slouch to the side and resumed his slumber. This was the time. This was the time he wanted. Whitney moved his legs behind him to kneel with his feet pressed to the ground so that he could pounce upon Jesse as he slept. In a blink, he launched and landed upon him. Before Jesse could wake to respond, Whitney wrapped his hands around Jesse's neck and leaned his torso forward to pin Jesse's arms down with his elbows. Whitney also dug his kneecaps into Jesse's thighs. Jesse shook his body violently but did little to shift Whitney out of position. He flailed his arms but was unable to grab at anything. He started to groan loudly, screamed against his vocal chords but made no sound louder than a coarse hum. Jesse's eyes seemed to pop out from his head, against which Whitney glared without blinking. Jesse kept trying to flail and scream, and his peals were quickly losing duration and strength. Finally, Jesse managed to wiggle a leg free and thrust it into the center of Whitney's crotch. The impact caused him to roll off and lose grip, which gave Jesse a chance to take in a breath and cough violently as he gasped for air.
The sudden noise caused Daron to wake, but he was still slowed by the alcohol consumed earlier and didn't understand the commotion which was nearby but he couldn't see in the darkness.
"What's going on?" Daron called out to the room.
"Choke!" Jesse said the word in a sickly creak through heaps of coughing from the bottom of his lungs.
Daron roused himself to his feet and made a quick hobble over to Jesse's direction, but only made it halfway across the room before he was tackled and punched in the face when he was on the ground. The impact stunned him and he laid on the ground in a daze as the body quickly rolled off of him and walked back to Jesse. The child screamed out as he was smothered again. Daron felt at the side of the log wall for the empty wine bottle and grasped at the air wildly until he knocked it over to the ground. He took the bottle into his hand and quickly rolled himself upright. With a scream, Daron dove towards the noise and dashed to the lump of bodies. He smothered himself over both of them and felt for the neck of the person underneath him. His fingers found the collarbone. Daron wound the bottle back and struck it down to hit the back of the head. The glass shattered and left him holding the broken neck of the bottle. The impact caused Whitney to roll of off Jesse again, but Daron didn't lose his sense of touch to Whitney's neck. When he hit his back to the ground, Daron knelt over his body and shoved the broken wine bottle into the flesh by his fingertips. Within seconds he felt liquid pour over his hands as he plunged the glass into unseen flesh. Whitney gurgled a scream as the glass cut into the veins of his neck. Daron continued to grind the glass into the neck until he could press the tips of the fingers holding the glass against Whitney's blood soaked flesh. Whitney writhed and moaned in agony. Daron clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth together as he struggled to keep the glass impaled into Whitney's body. The flailing diminished in moments until it gradually came to an end. Jesse continued to cough coarsely and sit upright in his bedding. As the adrenaline receded from his blood and the smell of blood and excrement filled the air, Daron reeled and turned to the side to vomit. He continued to heave dryly for several minute after he emptied the contents of his stomach to the ground.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
18580923 09:46:26
Tazewell looked around the glass walls as he stepped into the center. Doctor Caden pushed the panel behind him after he took his position in front of the three stools, then sat at the high stool next to a table where his clipboard was waiting.
"Ready when you are, Mr. Nolson. Twist the bracelet as I instructed you."
With a turn of his left hand over the bracelet on his right wrist, Tazewell snapped the piece together. Within an instant, the chain links which dangled in his right hand melted and formed into a single metallic rod. The angle at which he held the metal caused the middle stool which he was standing before to be knocked over as it protruded out from the transformation. The granite rock which rested on its surface fell to the ground with a hard strike, but remained intact. He blinked at the fallen chair in a moment of disbelief before pulling the stool back up and replacing the rock on the seat. Doctor Caden laughed at his reaction.
"OK. First test, please. How does the metal feel in your hands now?"
"Feels good. Solid and sturdy. Like an iron rod."
"Good, good. Go ahead, then. Test One."
The first test was the tin can which rested on the stool to his right. Tazewell held the rod down, paused to take in a breath, then raised it over his head to strike upon the can with as much force as he could muster. The can offered no resistance to the strike and collapsed around the club, but only until the stool underneath it broke apart from the force as well. The metal and wood rained to the ground in a satisfying explosion of force. The Doctor smiled as he recorded the result on his sheet.
"Excellent! Test Two! Do it just the same."
Tazewell smiled now and and prepared the strike as he did before. The metal bat was raised up and swung down. The strike caused a few sparks to fly as the rock was split in two, and fell apart upon the stool seat. Doctor Caden nodded and wrote this expected result down. Now it was time for the most interesting test.
"Good. Now, as much force as you can muster with this hit. We need to test the durability as much as we can."
On the third stool was a piece of white mineral roughly the size of an apple - it was an unfinished and flawed diamond. Today it would find its use. Tazewell paused a few moments, making sure he had focus on the hit, drummed his fingers on the metal, then took the baton up to strike. He swung it down upon the diamond with a loud roar and caused the stool underneath to break apart yet again. The diamond bounced onto the ground and rolled to the edge of the glass wall. The recoil from the strike made Tazewell reel backwards from his stance. Doctor Caden rose to the side of the glass in an exctied rush.
"Show me! Quickly! Show me the metal!"
He held the metal rod up with both hands for the doctor to see, and he was elated at the sight. The metal did more than merely survive the strike intact, it appeared fully unblemished.
"Ready when you are, Mr. Nolson. Twist the bracelet as I instructed you."
With a turn of his left hand over the bracelet on his right wrist, Tazewell snapped the piece together. Within an instant, the chain links which dangled in his right hand melted and formed into a single metallic rod. The angle at which he held the metal caused the middle stool which he was standing before to be knocked over as it protruded out from the transformation. The granite rock which rested on its surface fell to the ground with a hard strike, but remained intact. He blinked at the fallen chair in a moment of disbelief before pulling the stool back up and replacing the rock on the seat. Doctor Caden laughed at his reaction.
"OK. First test, please. How does the metal feel in your hands now?"
"Feels good. Solid and sturdy. Like an iron rod."
"Good, good. Go ahead, then. Test One."
The first test was the tin can which rested on the stool to his right. Tazewell held the rod down, paused to take in a breath, then raised it over his head to strike upon the can with as much force as he could muster. The can offered no resistance to the strike and collapsed around the club, but only until the stool underneath it broke apart from the force as well. The metal and wood rained to the ground in a satisfying explosion of force. The Doctor smiled as he recorded the result on his sheet.
"Excellent! Test Two! Do it just the same."
Tazewell smiled now and and prepared the strike as he did before. The metal bat was raised up and swung down. The strike caused a few sparks to fly as the rock was split in two, and fell apart upon the stool seat. Doctor Caden nodded and wrote this expected result down. Now it was time for the most interesting test.
"Good. Now, as much force as you can muster with this hit. We need to test the durability as much as we can."
On the third stool was a piece of white mineral roughly the size of an apple - it was an unfinished and flawed diamond. Today it would find its use. Tazewell paused a few moments, making sure he had focus on the hit, drummed his fingers on the metal, then took the baton up to strike. He swung it down upon the diamond with a loud roar and caused the stool underneath to break apart yet again. The diamond bounced onto the ground and rolled to the edge of the glass wall. The recoil from the strike made Tazewell reel backwards from his stance. Doctor Caden rose to the side of the glass in an exctied rush.
"Show me! Quickly! Show me the metal!"
He held the metal rod up with both hands for the doctor to see, and he was elated at the sight. The metal did more than merely survive the strike intact, it appeared fully unblemished.
Monday, September 3, 2012
18460824 17:38:51
Jesse's head reeled as his nose took in the aroma of the fire cooked ribs, but he wanted to enjoy the meat of his meal for the last part and dug into the browned cob of corn first. He felt the juice from the corn drip down his lips and fall upon the wooden plate as the kernels snapped between his teeth. He looked around as he chewed on the corn, and took a moment to realize that he was actually rather happy with the scene. There was good cooked food on the plate in front of him, he didn't have to work in the fields today, and the warmth from the sun was strong but not enough to burn the skin. The temperature felt just right to him - warm, yet cool to the surface with the breeze. His adoration was quickly snapped out of his head when he heard the girl seated a few tables away yell loudly enough to silence the pleasant talking amongst the dining crowd.
"Smooth" Conrad Stanton looked to be up to his old tricks but had finally been called out on it. He had a lean physique, sly eyes, quick wit, and a velvet voice, all of which he took no shame in flaunting when he could do so amongst the ladies of the farm. He also always found a way to get a hand on a lady when he was talking to them; with one, he would take up one of her hands while speaking, for another he would rub a shoulder while standing behind his target. He didn't see the actual contact occur with this instance but it was enough to incite the wrath of Gloria Willit. Jesse didn't know much about her beyond she being roughly the same age that he was, and that she tended to keep to herself and wasn't very social. She seemed to bury herself in her work and not allow herself to be distracted. This is why her reaction surprised him and many of the other diners who watched this transpire.
Conrad held up both of his hands demurely and shied his body away, trying to play off of the offense. Gloria would have none of it. She stood by the side of her chair, pulled her arm back, and slapped Conrad with an open hand directly upon his left cheek. The contact reverberated in the air like her voice did just earlier. Rather than withdraw, Conrad righted his head and glared at Gloria. He yelled something which, to Jesse, sounded like "Bitch, what the fuck you-", and that's all he heard before Gloria took to jabbing his stomach with her fist. With as much surprise as injury received from the blow, Conrad sunk to the ground doubled over his stomach, which prompted Gloria to kick him until he laid on the ground before her feet. She pulled her fist back again, preparing for another swing, but held the hand in check and kept it at the ready over him as he groaned on the grass.
It was here, in this pose, with the August sun gleaming off of her bronze skin, with her face sharply pointed with rage, with her lips quivering in restraint of another shout, with her fist held high over the man she had just struck down, that Jesse truly noticed Gloria for the first time. It was here that he had seen something which he had never seen before - a woman who did not cower before a man. It was here that Jesse liked what he had seen.
"Smooth" Conrad Stanton looked to be up to his old tricks but had finally been called out on it. He had a lean physique, sly eyes, quick wit, and a velvet voice, all of which he took no shame in flaunting when he could do so amongst the ladies of the farm. He also always found a way to get a hand on a lady when he was talking to them; with one, he would take up one of her hands while speaking, for another he would rub a shoulder while standing behind his target. He didn't see the actual contact occur with this instance but it was enough to incite the wrath of Gloria Willit. Jesse didn't know much about her beyond she being roughly the same age that he was, and that she tended to keep to herself and wasn't very social. She seemed to bury herself in her work and not allow herself to be distracted. This is why her reaction surprised him and many of the other diners who watched this transpire.
Conrad held up both of his hands demurely and shied his body away, trying to play off of the offense. Gloria would have none of it. She stood by the side of her chair, pulled her arm back, and slapped Conrad with an open hand directly upon his left cheek. The contact reverberated in the air like her voice did just earlier. Rather than withdraw, Conrad righted his head and glared at Gloria. He yelled something which, to Jesse, sounded like "Bitch, what the fuck you-", and that's all he heard before Gloria took to jabbing his stomach with her fist. With as much surprise as injury received from the blow, Conrad sunk to the ground doubled over his stomach, which prompted Gloria to kick him until he laid on the ground before her feet. She pulled her fist back again, preparing for another swing, but held the hand in check and kept it at the ready over him as he groaned on the grass.
It was here, in this pose, with the August sun gleaming off of her bronze skin, with her face sharply pointed with rage, with her lips quivering in restraint of another shout, with her fist held high over the man she had just struck down, that Jesse truly noticed Gloria for the first time. It was here that he had seen something which he had never seen before - a woman who did not cower before a man. It was here that Jesse liked what he had seen.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
18841109 16:38:22
YF-N-6888 (nb: Inn near railway, north of main train station)
"Welcome to Daron's City. Nice to meet, you, Mister -"
"Smith.", said Rudolph Schnaubelt.
Momence laughed at the thick German flavor in the simple single word uttered through the long beard.
"Right, right, very good. OK then, Mr. Smith. How long do you intend to stay here? We can make your stay more comfortable, if you like."
"I frankly wish to discuss the matter of May First."
"Mhm." Momence figured he would get right down to business without recognizing the offer for some fun to be bought.
"The labor and the businesses both expect strikes on the day. We think this would be a good time to act. We think both sides will blame each other instead."
"Right, I see that. So how do you want us to help you?"
"I need to learn how to make, uh, boom. Bomb. I need materials they can't find the source."
"I understand you, Smithy. I understand." Momence smiled broadly. He preferred the exchanges to be like this, where the client just comes out and asks rather than have to beat around code phrases and watch language. His broken English helped here, if anything. "So here's what we do for you. You take a room here for a day and relax. I'll get you some points with the bar. Tomorrow, I'll send-"
"But I am ready now."
"Smith, Jesus! This May Day shit is more than a year away. Time's on your side on this one, OK? Just relax and listen. We set you up. We show you how to use the goods we send you. We show you how we'll deliver it. We'll do it slowly so you teach your brothers. Got it?"
"Yes." Somehow, Schnaubelt managed to say the simple word 'yes' in a palpably thick accent.
"what places do you have in mind?"
"Well... New York. And. Well, all big cities. All places were there are many workers."
"Y'know, maybe you should consider Chicago for this. Chicago's really loose right now."
"Chicago." Schnaubelt said the city's name in deep contemplation.
"Welcome to Daron's City. Nice to meet, you, Mister -"
"Smith.", said Rudolph Schnaubelt.
Momence laughed at the thick German flavor in the simple single word uttered through the long beard.
"Right, right, very good. OK then, Mr. Smith. How long do you intend to stay here? We can make your stay more comfortable, if you like."
"I frankly wish to discuss the matter of May First."
"Mhm." Momence figured he would get right down to business without recognizing the offer for some fun to be bought.
"The labor and the businesses both expect strikes on the day. We think this would be a good time to act. We think both sides will blame each other instead."
"Right, I see that. So how do you want us to help you?"
"I need to learn how to make, uh, boom. Bomb. I need materials they can't find the source."
"I understand you, Smithy. I understand." Momence smiled broadly. He preferred the exchanges to be like this, where the client just comes out and asks rather than have to beat around code phrases and watch language. His broken English helped here, if anything. "So here's what we do for you. You take a room here for a day and relax. I'll get you some points with the bar. Tomorrow, I'll send-"
"But I am ready now."
"Smith, Jesus! This May Day shit is more than a year away. Time's on your side on this one, OK? Just relax and listen. We set you up. We show you how to use the goods we send you. We show you how we'll deliver it. We'll do it slowly so you teach your brothers. Got it?"
"Yes." Somehow, Schnaubelt managed to say the simple word 'yes' in a palpably thick accent.
"what places do you have in mind?"
"Well... New York. And. Well, all big cities. All places were there are many workers."
"Y'know, maybe you should consider Chicago for this. Chicago's really loose right now."
"Chicago." Schnaubelt said the city's name in deep contemplation.
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