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timerippleOh, the songs that are afoot! What joyous singings and pingings! *admonishes self to stop with the Gurgi-imitations*
I may have mentioned the monstrosity hidden behind the following LJ-cuts a while back. It was written before I saw Disney's Around the World in 80 Days, so don't blame me if certain plot elements bear some resemblance to one another. This bit may be re-written at some point to account for certain events necessary for the conclusion. I just have to write the middle bit, and then y'all can stop bugging me about it. If certain other plot elements bear some resemblance to my nautical archaeology final, well, duh.
The dragon left them atop a small cliff which they could easily scramble down (“Goodbye, Dragon-buddy!”) and soared off into the darkening sky (“I’ve really got to find myself a name!”).
The first thing Goat-Girl and Harry saw upon reaching the ground was a very large hamper covered with a spotless white cloth. The second and third (and perhaps fourth) things they saw were two men and a Persian cat. The first man saw them almost immediately, and stood with a calmly shocked expression, peering at them for a moment through a highly polished monocle. He pulled himself together immediately and addressed the motley group in cultured, utterly polite tones.
“Who, pray, are you? If I may be so bold as to ask.”
Unfortunately, this genteel statement was uttered at precisely the same moment as the cat’s loud (but equally cultured) yowl of surprise. There was no response from either Harry or Goat-Girl. The man tried again.
“I beg your pardon. Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. This is my butler, Phips. My cat, Lady Peabody. I am Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman.”
“Won’t you sit down?” Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman gestured politely toward several rocks which appeared to be somewhat more comfortable than the rest. Goat-Girl and Harry, after several startled glances at the Gentleman, the cat, the butler, and each other, sat down. “We were just about to take afternoon tea; pray join us. We three should greatly welcome your company in this rocky desolation.”
In short order Goat-Girl and Harry found themselves sipping tea (poured from a bone china teapot) out of bone china cups and holding bits of cake over bone china saucers that had appeared from the depths of the hamper. Phips served them with appropriate butlerly gravity, while Lady Peabody stared at them regally from atop a red velvet cushion. In between bites and gulps they managed to introduce themselves to the Gentleman and his companions, and in slightly less coherent chunks explained their business in the “rocky desolation”. The Gentleman was unfazed by both their trials and their disjointed narrative style; he took the extraordinary events concerning the curse, the terriers, Harry’s wand, and the countercurse, not to mention the dragon, all in stride. Even the part involving the Beach Boys produced only a small nod and the slightest elevation of one eyebrow.
Goat-Girl and Harry began to suspect that Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman had more to his character than they might have initially expected. Indeed, one can nearly always be sure than anyone who takes his tea in the middle of the Himalayas with a butler and Persian cat in tow must be someone out of the ordinary.
The travelers had just finished their cake and were handing their cups to Phips when something whizzed overhead in a streak of brilliant colors, clicking madly. The whatever-it-was was being hotly pursued by several chipmunks seated in miniature gliders. The chipmunks, gliders, and whatever-it-was zoomed around the tallest clump of rocks and vanished into the distance.
“What was that?” asked Harry and Goat-Girl simultaneously.
Mr. Wiggle looked grave. “It must be that troublesome Rubik’s Cube of Doom again. I’d hoped to avoid further encounters with the device, but it seems that this horror has been unleashed upon the world again. I really must do something about it one of these days.” He shook his head, while Phips carefully replaced the white cover on the hamper and Mrs. Peabody looked after the Rubik’s Cube with an expression of disdain. “Never mind that dreadful mind-stealing device now. I had thought of popping over to the Mediterranean for a look at a shipwreck before supper. Would you two care to join us?”
Goat-Girl was ecstatic. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“My divers have begun excavating a wreck off the coast of Crete. It does look promising, and I understand that there are some objects of particular interest.”
“Your divers?” Harry, his curiosity piqued, finally spoke.
“Oh yes, indeed. Have you never heard of the Salmon P. Wiggle Institute for Marine Studies and Conservation? We do quite a bit of work on ancient Mediterranean shipwrecks. Phips, would you be so kind as to fetch me the yo-yo?”
Goat-Girl and Harry goggled. Phips, however, merely produced from the seemingly bottomless basket a bright purple yo-yo. Mr. Wiggle scribbled something on a tape, dropped the Yo-yo, wrapped the tape around the string, and deftly returned the yo-yo to its original state. As if this behavior were not odd enough, he walked to the edge of the shelf and casually tossed the entire thing off the edge of the cliff.
Lady Peabody looked on approvingly from her cushion.
Phips seemed to find nothing strange whatsoever about this latest development, and calmly packed away the remains of their tea.
Goat-Girl and Harry exchanged glances that might have communicated something to the effect of “What have we gotten ourselves into now?” Then again, it might have simply been the beginning of pure mutual panic. It was difficult to say, and after a moment nobody cared anyway.
This was probably because several seconds later, a large contraption rose past the cliff face and hovered just within stepping range. Its brightly colored canopy towered above the watchers, who stepped one by one into the basket suspended beneath it. “Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
I may have mentioned the monstrosity hidden behind the following LJ-cuts a while back. It was written before I saw Disney's Around the World in 80 Days, so don't blame me if certain plot elements bear some resemblance to one another. This bit may be re-written at some point to account for certain events necessary for the conclusion. I just have to write the middle bit, and then y'all can stop bugging me about it. If certain other plot elements bear some resemblance to my nautical archaeology final, well, duh.
The dragon left them atop a small cliff which they could easily scramble down (“Goodbye, Dragon-buddy!”) and soared off into the darkening sky (“I’ve really got to find myself a name!”).
The first thing Goat-Girl and Harry saw upon reaching the ground was a very large hamper covered with a spotless white cloth. The second and third (and perhaps fourth) things they saw were two men and a Persian cat. The first man saw them almost immediately, and stood with a calmly shocked expression, peering at them for a moment through a highly polished monocle. He pulled himself together immediately and addressed the motley group in cultured, utterly polite tones.
“Who, pray, are you? If I may be so bold as to ask.”
Unfortunately, this genteel statement was uttered at precisely the same moment as the cat’s loud (but equally cultured) yowl of surprise. There was no response from either Harry or Goat-Girl. The man tried again.
“I beg your pardon. Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. This is my butler, Phips. My cat, Lady Peabody. I am Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman.”
“Won’t you sit down?” Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman gestured politely toward several rocks which appeared to be somewhat more comfortable than the rest. Goat-Girl and Harry, after several startled glances at the Gentleman, the cat, the butler, and each other, sat down. “We were just about to take afternoon tea; pray join us. We three should greatly welcome your company in this rocky desolation.”
In short order Goat-Girl and Harry found themselves sipping tea (poured from a bone china teapot) out of bone china cups and holding bits of cake over bone china saucers that had appeared from the depths of the hamper. Phips served them with appropriate butlerly gravity, while Lady Peabody stared at them regally from atop a red velvet cushion. In between bites and gulps they managed to introduce themselves to the Gentleman and his companions, and in slightly less coherent chunks explained their business in the “rocky desolation”. The Gentleman was unfazed by both their trials and their disjointed narrative style; he took the extraordinary events concerning the curse, the terriers, Harry’s wand, and the countercurse, not to mention the dragon, all in stride. Even the part involving the Beach Boys produced only a small nod and the slightest elevation of one eyebrow.
Goat-Girl and Harry began to suspect that Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman had more to his character than they might have initially expected. Indeed, one can nearly always be sure than anyone who takes his tea in the middle of the Himalayas with a butler and Persian cat in tow must be someone out of the ordinary.
The travelers had just finished their cake and were handing their cups to Phips when something whizzed overhead in a streak of brilliant colors, clicking madly. The whatever-it-was was being hotly pursued by several chipmunks seated in miniature gliders. The chipmunks, gliders, and whatever-it-was zoomed around the tallest clump of rocks and vanished into the distance.
“What was that?” asked Harry and Goat-Girl simultaneously.
Mr. Wiggle looked grave. “It must be that troublesome Rubik’s Cube of Doom again. I’d hoped to avoid further encounters with the device, but it seems that this horror has been unleashed upon the world again. I really must do something about it one of these days.” He shook his head, while Phips carefully replaced the white cover on the hamper and Mrs. Peabody looked after the Rubik’s Cube with an expression of disdain. “Never mind that dreadful mind-stealing device now. I had thought of popping over to the Mediterranean for a look at a shipwreck before supper. Would you two care to join us?”
Goat-Girl was ecstatic. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“My divers have begun excavating a wreck off the coast of Crete. It does look promising, and I understand that there are some objects of particular interest.”
“Your divers?” Harry, his curiosity piqued, finally spoke.
“Oh yes, indeed. Have you never heard of the Salmon P. Wiggle Institute for Marine Studies and Conservation? We do quite a bit of work on ancient Mediterranean shipwrecks. Phips, would you be so kind as to fetch me the yo-yo?”
Goat-Girl and Harry goggled. Phips, however, merely produced from the seemingly bottomless basket a bright purple yo-yo. Mr. Wiggle scribbled something on a tape, dropped the Yo-yo, wrapped the tape around the string, and deftly returned the yo-yo to its original state. As if this behavior were not odd enough, he walked to the edge of the shelf and casually tossed the entire thing off the edge of the cliff.
Lady Peabody looked on approvingly from her cushion.
Phips seemed to find nothing strange whatsoever about this latest development, and calmly packed away the remains of their tea.
Goat-Girl and Harry exchanged glances that might have communicated something to the effect of “What have we gotten ourselves into now?” Then again, it might have simply been the beginning of pure mutual panic. It was difficult to say, and after a moment nobody cared anyway.
This was probably because several seconds later, a large contraption rose past the cliff face and hovered just within stepping range. Its brightly colored canopy towered above the watchers, who stepped one by one into the basket suspended beneath it. “Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
:)
Date: 2004-07-01 04:33 pm (UTC)on a random note, for some reason i read "a very large hamper covered with a spotless white cloth" as "a very large hamster covered with a spotless white cloth" and got a bit weirded out when they started taking things out of it. my brain is odd.
i have started watching buffy season 3...ok, ok, i'm half way through watching buffy season 3. it's depressing! poor buffy...joss really seems to enjoy torturing the girl. not to mention all the other characters.
i'm in the process of finally getting a cell phone since my room doesn't have a phone line in it and it's annoying making all my calls in the middle of the hallway (where the phones are). unfortunately my credit was only partially approved (probably due to the fact that i have hardly any credit, since i've never had a credit card) so i have to get my parents to get it and i've had trouble getting in touch with them, seeing as i, um, don't have a phone. but EVENTUALLY i will have a phone, at which point i will try to call people as long as you don't mind being called after 9 (or on the weekend) cause that's when my unlimited calling will be.
does anyone know anyone who's at wellesley for the summer? i met a girl here who's visiting wellesley in a few weeks and i told her i'd try to find someone there who can give her an insider's tour.
anyway, without further ado, my artistic offering (from my book of scottish songs):
the boatman
how often hunting the highest hilltop i scan the ocean thy sail to see;
wilt come tonight, wilt come tomorrow, or ever come love to comfort me?
fhir a bhata, na horo eile,
fhir a bhata, na horo eile,
fhir a bhata, na horo eile,
o fare thee well, love, where e're thou goest.
they call thee fickle, they call thee false one,
and seek to change me, but all in vain;
no, thou'rt my dream yet throughout the dark night,
and every morn yet i watch the main.
chorus
there's not a hamlet (too well i know it)
where you go wandering or stay awhile,
but all its old folk you win with talking,
and charm its maidens with song and smile.
chorus
dost thou remember the promise made me,
the tartan pladie, the silken gown,
the ring of gold with thy hair and portrait?
that gown and ring i will never own.
chorus
translated from the gaelic by thomas pattison
it has a really great melody, sort of similar to the rocky road to dublin (or at least in the same meter and mode).
fiona, when you go to scotland are you going to be learning gaelic, or at least how to pronounce gaelic? cause i've been pretty much just guessing on "fhir a bhata, na horo eile", and have no idea if i'm anywhere near right or not. especially the "eile". no clue. i've been pronouncing it "ae-luh".
ooh- and see fahrenheit 911 if you haven't yet. everyone.
ok, gotta go do some work now. cheers!
-siena
Re: :)
Date: 2004-07-02 09:52 am (UTC)I think Kaelin and Rebecca (the one across the hall from you) are around, but I'm not positive about that.
when you go to scotland are you going to be learning gaelic, or at least how to pronounce gaelic?
I'm going to try to learn some pronunciation, but we're better off asking Rachel. Scottish and Irish Gaelic can't be all that different, can they? ... you know what, don't answer that! *curses* I know I have a pronunciation guide here somewhere. *stares at chaos-that-passes-for-bookshelf* I will find it if I have to tear this room apart. Which, judging by the state of things, isn't as unlikely as it sounds.
Fahrenheit 911 opens in Paradise this week! The place will probably be boycotted by, oh, 90% of the population. Happily, this does not include me. *grin*
Re: :)
Date: 2004-07-02 10:11 am (UTC)only about 10 more days 'til boarding ship!!!!
-melanie
Re: :)
Date: 2004-07-02 02:44 pm (UTC)Re: :)
Date: 2004-07-02 03:51 pm (UTC)-melanie