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Kinda-Sorta Sharon's Dialogue Challenge
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Kinda-Sorta Sharon's Dialogue Challenge |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration 
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This is kinda-sorta in response to Sharon’s dialogue challenge. It’s actually a piece I wrote the bulk of back in 2000 and never quite finished; I just couldn’t quite find the right ending. I tried forcing it several times, but it just didn’t work (as most of you have probably experienced). It’s not strictly dialogue, as you’ll see, but it was the basis for this story. I was (as, ironically I have been again lately) reading a lot of Steven Brust at the time and wanted to give a shot at his light, quasi-periodical and irony-filled dialogue (internal and external; the specific series I think of is also told in first person). When I saw Sharon’s challenge, it immediately brought this piece to mind. I guess it must have also been at exactly the right time, because as soon as I connected this piece with her challenge, I knew how it would end. Of course, it’s taken me several days to actually write it, but I knew what was going to happen. So I went back, added the end, edited a bit (surprisingly little) and, well, here you have it. You can decided if you like the ending or not. Thanks, Chris -or- Don’t Wear Woolen Socks When Fighting a Fire-Breathing Dragon ©2005 C.G. Ward “Hold a moment please,” I said, holding my hand in the air. I started digging through the pouch hanging from my waist and a brief moment later found what I was looking for. The parchment was yellowed and brittle with age, as these things are supposed to be – a proper parchment does not look new. Etched in what could only be blood was the picture of a knight. Next to said knight was a dragon. After a moment of studying the parchment, I looked up. Back at the parchment. Up again. This went on for several moments and might have continued had the subject of comparison not issued an impatient growl. I stumbled over a few appropriate curses and settled for the plaintive whine approach. “But look!” I insisted, showing the eyes regarding me the slip of paper. “It shows you, here, next to a knight. See, right there? According to this parchment, whose veracity I must add, may not be doubted, you can’t be more than… more than three times his size!” The huge orb nearest me blinked slowly and focused on the page. It glanced at the spot where my finger was pointing, then took in the parchment as a whole. It was quite obvious the aged piece of paper was genuine. The owner of this eye then started shaking from tip of nose to end of tail, which I am afraid to say, is a goodly distance of sixty feet or so. It took me a moment to realize that this unlikely behavior was what passed for laughter amongst dragon kind – for as you know, dragons are insistent about doing everything different from we mortal folk. That this was disturbing in and of itself did little to alleviate my discomfort at what happened next; gouts of orange, yellow, and blue fire started shooting from his mouth. They were small gouts, granted, but still far from what I expected. Pretty though, in a strange, unhealthy way. “Now wait just a damned minute,” I yelled, shaking my head and feeling quite unsettled about the whole affair by now. Digging once more into my pouch, I produced another parchment, which was, if not older, then at least as old as the previous one. “It says right here,” I insisted, pointing toward the paragraph I was quoting. “’Anazamadyr is a dragon of the Glacier Class.’ And down here in the footnote it says: ‘For those not knowledgeable about dragon classes: The Glacier Class consists of icy mist breathing dragons. Heroes who wish to test their so-called courage (also referred to as ‘stupidity’ in the ‘Psychology of Would-be Dragon Fighters’ section) against a dragon of this class must be sure to wear protective equipment such as long underwear and more than one pair of socks. Warming spells are also beneficial though sometimes difficult to find. Most common demise inflicted by dragons of the Glacier Class - following consumption of course – is frostbite.’” This time Anazamadyr didn’t even bother looking at the parchment. Instead, he continued with his laughing – harder than before if the fact that he was rolling on his back proved any indication – and shot even longer gouts of flame from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. Yes, I said his ears. As any dragon hunter knows, they can breathe through their ears if they have to or are distracted. It is generally unknown, because breathing through one’s ears is considered a major social indiscretion. My guess was that while Anazamadyr was a polite and proper dragon, he had little concern with social proprieties. It was only natural then, that my mind prompted me with the ignoble idea of attacking while he was distracted in his humor. Of course, being the principled knight that I am, I would never stoop to an act so dishonorable. Besides, they way he was thrashing about, I was terrified he'd squish me. So I did the brave and honorable thing – I began to sneak away. Now someone might condemn me for cowardice here, but I protest against this label ferociously. See how well you would do standing up to a sixty-foot long fire breathing dragon when what you expected – and equipped for – was at most a twenty-foot long icy-mist breathing dragon. The way I had come prepared, half of Anazamadyr’s work was done for him. A quick breath of hot air and my clothes would cook the rest of me. No, it was not cowardice, rather something I call prudence. So intent was I on a stealthy escape that it took the dragon’s “ahem” to make me notice that he was no longer laughing. I paused, half crouching, and searched around for any possible means of escape. But no. Nothing. Nada. The land around me was as devoid of ‘escape-to places’ as a brothel is of saints. Well, bad analogy – real saints, how about that? To the west, of course, is the ocean. As far as the horizon, and some say beyond, is water, water, and a little more water. While I don’t relish the thought of being eaten, drowning rates just a little above it in terms of ways I do not want to die. To the south lie the jungles of Paratyree. They could have been helpful, but the distance between that possible safety and myself was too much. Being a larger than normal fellow, running was not my forte, nor, I think, something I could do with any more facility than a dragon whose single step would take me several minute to walk. East, the direction I’d come from – sneaking up on Anazamadyr, ha-ha! – is the Bog of Despair. Granted, I’d made it through once. But I hadn’t been in a hurry, and it wasn’t pleasant. Besides, Anazamadyr was built for that type of terrain and I, not being a lizard of course, wasn’t. That left North, which, I’m afraid, didn’t leave much hope. It is called the Wastelands, just like every other barren place in the world that is covered with ice, snow, ice, and snow is called. Having seen them from a distance, I think that however cliché, the name is appropriate. Of course it only took a moment for my brain to decide that a course of inaction might in this case be the best action. I spun on my heels and found Anazamadyr peering intently at me. I smiled – a bit wanly I must admit – and tried to stand up straight. “Are you ready man?” Was what I received for all my effort. “But... but...” I stammered, ever the clever conversationalist. “But nothing, little one. You were deceived. And while I do so hate to see that happen to as nice of a young human as you seem to be, it is hardly my problem.” He arched an eyebrow the length of my body at me and waited for a while. What a polite dragon. How droll. Although, I suppose if one is about to be toasted and eaten by a quasi-mythical creature the size of a small mountain, it’s better to go in conversational style and have your predator be civil about it. “Well?” He growled ominously. I had to do something, and quickly would be wise. “You have such beautiful scales,” I intoned, digging for the charm that has evaded me throughout the entirety of my life. “I am at a loss for words, such is your beauty that I find myself awestruck. The amber glow of your beady eyes fills me with such a sense of peace that I could n’er think of anything to say to refute thee.” I went on like this for some minutes, opining about the obvious character of Anazamadyr, and what awe and beauty he possessed. I waxed poetic about the strength of his tail – ‘as long as a ray of sunlight, gilded crimson by dusk’s approach.’ His claws – ‘finer and sharper than the steel of a thousand enchanted swords.’ His teeth – ‘long, and white, and sharp, and long, and…’ “Enough!” Anazamadyr was still being polite, but it was obvious his patience was wearing thin. “It is quite obvious you have had some means of education, however incorrect your information proves to be. It is only in fairy tales that your evil, smoke-breathing dragons are swayed by a recitation of their perceived virtues. And,” he admonished, shaking a talon in my direction. “You’ll be wise to note that even in these tales the dragons are all less than half a millennia old. We older and wiser dragons know how beautiful and awe-inspiring we are. We hardly need one of you humans to extol the virtues of which we are already so well aware.” “Oh.” I responded, once more dazzling Anazamadyr with my quick wit. “Man,” he sighed as he settled down on his belly. I took this to be a fair, if not good sign, considering that while he was lying down he wasn’t as likely to eat me. Not that I held out much chance of survival. I was hopeful though, to endure as long as possible. Life, I discovered in those moments, is like wealth; when you have plenty, you take it for granted, but it becomes so much more precious when in danger of losing it. “How long, exactly, have you been doing this?” “You mean, uhm...” I faltered. “Yes, yes,” he whisked impatiently. “Dragon hunting. How long have you been at it?” “Exactly?” “Exactly.” ”Well, to tell the truth,” I began. “That’s always wise,” Anazamadyr nodded sagely. “About three weeks.” I finished. “Hmm.” He intoned. “Hmm?” I questioned. “Sit, sit,” Anazamadyr said, pointing his long snout at a nearby fallen log. “Be at peace and rest. I understand that you humans tire easily. All’s the pity – there’s nothing so luxurious as resting just for the sake of itself instead of doing so through need.” “Then you’re not going to eat me?” I exclaimed hopefully. “I didn’t say that.” Oh. Then, “But we will converse for a time before we charge back into battle. It does get oh-so-lonely out here at times. Especially when one is a notorious dragon.” “No!” I exclaimed. I was a bit disappointed about the whole eating thing, but had to admit to that despite the waves of fear that were passing through my rapidly beating heart... I was curious about this strange and lonely dragon. “I lie not,” he nodded vigorously. “You might be surprised, obviously being at least somewhat educated and therefore interested in things about you, but most people, no, most things, have no interests in the likes of an infamous dragon... that is unless it’s interest in having my head mounted on their wall. No one talks to me. “Oh don’t get me wrong, they say the standard phrases like, ‘Ho foul creature! I have come to slay thee, blah, blah, blah.’ It’s the same thing over and over and over. It’s never just, ‘Hi Anazamadyr, let’s talk.’” He paused for a moment, then allowed himself a dragon half-smile after noticing how rapt I was at his conversation. I think perhaps he understood that I was at least smart enough to pretend to be interested for the sake of my life, but I don’t think it mattered. Finding an attentive audience was appeasing enough, however false it might be. The thing is, and I’ll not admit this to many people, is that I was interested. Oh, I know dragons are supposed to be terribly evil creatures, feeding off of innocent virgins, scouring villages, raping cows and the like, but Anazamadyr didn’t strike me as that kind of dragon. No, he was more like a friend I’d once had. Marlin was his name. A mediocre wizard – you have to admit, there’s some rough competition in wizardry these days – but the best companion to have for idle chatter and philosophical wanderings. We used to sit up many a night… “...think they have all that information wrong in those parchments of yours?” Anazamadyr was asking me something. I shook myself for not paying attention. If there was anything I should pay attention to, it was a garrulous dragon whose only reason for not making a stew out of me was the fact that we were having a conversation. “I’m sorry o’ noble dragon – I was pondering how amazing it is that one such as yourself could receive such bad press.” Crossing my fingers. “Exactly what I was getting at!” He roared. “It’s because no one ever just wants to sit and talk to me. No!” He roared again, louder this time. “Instead, every would-be hero has to come chasing me with half-enchanted sword and wool socks, thinking he’ll make his mark by ridding the countryside of yet another ferocious dragon. Humph!” He humphed. “How horrible!” I exclaimed with a large mix of horror tinting my voice. “It is. I am so misunderstood.” “Having set here and listened to you, fain, but I must agree.” “Indeed?” “Indeed great Anazamadyr, I do.” “That is good. But if only I could figure out why. And stop it.” He heaved a regretful sigh and proceeded to look miserable. He was doing rather a good job at it when an idea pierced my brain. “Well you know...” I started, shooting for just the right amount of dramatic pause. Nor was I wrong in doing this, for his head lifted up and a look of anticipation suffused those mighty amber orbs. I could almost see him slavering for a solution. “Yes? Do tell, please!” Oh he was excited now! “Yes,” I said, shaking my head slowly for effect. “I think that’s it.” “Well? What is ‘it?’” “I was preparing to explain.” “Wonder of wonders, at last I shall hear this great solution of yours!” “You know that talk of bad press?” “You mean how ferocious and evil I’m supposed to be?” He responded. “Exactly!” I exclaimed. “Beg pardon?” “That’s it,” I responded with a slow nod. “That’s your problem. Bad press.” ”I don’t see what you’re getting at human.” “Well, maybe what you need to do is turn that around; use the press to your advantage.” Anazamadyr pondered this over for some time. I sat quietly, allowing him his thoughts. Perhaps one may think less of Anazamadyr for not grasping the concept immediately, but you do have to allow some leeway for his situation. He is after all, a dragon. A smart dragon, I’ll grant you, but a dragon nonetheless. It is not as if he has easy access – assuming he would be interested – in the more contemporary social ideas. His lot was one of solitude and defense. The only news this creature was likely to come across was in the few tidbits he might hear before toasting a would-be dragon slayer. And one has to understand that the press – namely Infernal Papers Inc., which is really all the press there is these days after they bought up everyone else – is a secretive and wily bunch. While not privy to their corporate meetings there in the Guildmaster Castle of Loughtenbrough, I could fairly guess that they sold little out in this stretch of woods. Oh, I know they claim to be interested in ‘free speech’ and ‘educating the masses,’ but I also know they’re into it for more than a little profit. And we know that there is little profit outside the larger cities. Most of the peasant villages only have second hand papers… the ones wrapped around yesterday’s catch-of-the-week. I was fairly certain that Anazamadyr would know little about them, other than what they told those who chased after him. Like me, I admit. I had to find a way to turn this around. Not only was I finding that this great beast was less evil than portrayed, but I was developing a great dislike for Infernal Papers Inc. for their less than honest representation of my newly acquired friend. “Perhaps,” Anazamadyr drawled slowly. “You would care to explain to me how we could use them to our advantage.” I nodded, thinking that, of course, this is exactly what I wanted to do. “You see, fair Anazamadyr, I submit that while bad press, particularly that of Infernal Papers Inc., is your problem now, it could also prove to be your saving grace.” “Grace? I need no grace!” He exclaimed indignantly. “I am a Great Dragon. Those who come before me perish. I do admit that at times I get lonely and long for company other than these thrice damned sparrows which flit around my head, dropping their business around my home. But that hardly puts me in need of grace! What use have I for the likes? Leave grace to the sinners and let the elementals be as they are.” Again, I nodded. “Of course mighty dragon. But what of the times when men tire of hunting you for sport?” “Well,” he replied with a slight smile. “Then I shall be free from the bane of attack. I shall be free to live my life in safety, as lonely as that may prove.” “Ah,” I rejoined, with a sad note of concern in my voice. “But I disagree. I think otherwise.” “Otherwise? Pah, how can it be otherwise?” “Ah,” I replied again. “You repeat yourself.” “I’m afraid so.” “Why then?” “Well because...” I paused. “Yes?” “Dare I say it?” “Do so, please.” He all but begged. “Well ‘tis like this friend. May I call you friend?” “You may indeed if you cease this bantering and come out with it.” “Very well then, I will tell, though I’m afraid it may not be met with much enthusiasm on your part.” I was working it up now, thrilled at the permission to call him friend. Friends, as it is well known in these parts, do not eat each other. It is considered against common courtesy. “Finally,” he sighed. “When mankind tires of dragon slaying, when it is no longer a sport which brings glory and fame, your time will be finished.” I continued, despite his exclamation of disbelief. “You see my friend, Anazamadyr, there is something about mankind that you may or may not have noticed. There are men such as myself: kind, generous, and willing to talk with lonely dragons. Then there are the other kind – of which I’m afraid outnumber my kind by a distressingly large degree – whom simply hate the thought of something bigger, stronger, and smarter than they.” Anazamadyr nodded, apparently having been made aware of this distinction sometime before in his long life. “And when these people tire of hunting dragons, when it is no longer in fashion to do so one-on-one, then they will come at you en masse.” Anazamadyr shrugged. “So? I can handle a dozen of your kind.” I nodded in return. “And I believe you, friend. What then when twenty come? Thirty? More? What then when our weapons keep getting better – by which I mean more destructive? What then my friend, when you have nowhere else to go? No place to hide from the fate their fear has planned for you?” Anazamadyr mulled this concept over. Firstly, he seemed to discount the entire premise. But as the moments wore on, I could tell by the subtle lowering of those immense eyebrows and by the look of despair which crept in dark hues through his amber eyes, that the great beast felt the defeat falling on his shoulders. Moaning, he put giant paws over his gargantuan head. I was sorrowed to see the great beast looking so forlorn, for all that I told the truth. Unthinkingly (I do things ‘unthinkingly’ a lot) I went over to him and rested a hand on his giant neck. With a slight shudder I noticed that my hand, not unduly small for a grown human male, was still smaller than even one of the bright crimson scales adorning his hide. A paw lifted and an eye peeked out at me. It too was large – possibly as large as myself. But now I wasn’t frightened. How could I be frightened of this poor, miserable creature? He looked so forlorn that I found myself at a loss as to how to cheer him up “But,” I said. “But?” He queried, nearly reduced to sobs. There was little hope in his tone now. In a few words I had done worse damage than the pitiful half-enchanted sword I wore could have done. And somehow I felt that the words hurt me almost as much as it did him. I certainly wouldn’t have felt this badly had I wounded him in fair battle. Well, I wouldn’t have felt much if I had fought Anazamadyr, because I’d be dead, but you know what I mean. “But I think this need not be the end. I have foretold your doom, but as with all prognostication there is an element of freewill involved.” “Freewill?” “In sooth!” “Pray tell then friend” I simply glowed at this reference to me. “What manner does freewill play in my continued survival?” “Friend, I will tell you.” ”Please do so, for I find myself growing more morose by the moment as doom sways over my head like the specter of Death!” “Then it shall be thus: if your doom is to come about through man’s fear of you, why then we simply remove the fear!” I was so elated by the idea that I didn’t understand why Anazamadyr looked so down yet. “I understand not.” “I see this,” I responded, pondering how best to explain it. “Then perhaps you would be so kind as to remedy my confusion?” “I will!” “Oh wondrous day!” “So,” “At last!” “What we shall do is solve both your problems at once.” “Both?” He queried, confusion masking his noble features. “Well, we did determine that your problems were twofold, did we not?” He lay there thinking for a moment – and looking much better for the effort, I might add, than he had a moment before wallowing in his misery. That his potential end was a goodly distance in the future likely meant little to him, since dragons are so long lived in the first place that what may seem distant in the future to simple humans is like tomorrow to a dragon – especially one as old as Anazamadyr. “Forgive me friend, but I only see the one – my forthcoming extinction.” “As if that weren’t enough my friend,” I replied solemnly. “And perhaps that explains why you have overlooked the second, and likely more important issue.” “More important than my life?” He responded incredulously. “Aye,” I replied earnestly. “Surely you jest!” “Surely I do not, my fair Anazamadyr” “Then please tell what I have overlooked so that I may be sure not to do so again. Anything more important than my life must be something worth remembering.” ”Indeed it is. And I think you remember it, but simply do not connect to it at this moment, because with me here, that problem is temporarily abridged.” I made a simple bow. I am good at these sorts of things when the situation calls for it, as I believe this one did. I had to ensure Anazamadyr that I was speaking in all seriousness. “Ah, you speak of my loneliness!” He replied. Yes, Anazamadyr’s mood was certainly picking up in the midst of our oh-so-stimulating conversation. That the conversation was about a solution to his impending death seemed to be bothering him less and less, which goes to prove my theory that loneliness is a larger problem than is death. Not that death is a menial issue, mind you, only that there are some things more important than life in this world. Or so I’ve been told. At the moment, one would have been hard-put to convince me of this philosophical theory. “Well done, my friend!” ”Thank you kindly, friend.” ”No not at all Sir Dragon, it was you who so deftly grabbed that answer despite the handicap of depression!” “You call me Sir?” His eyebrows arched and his teeth glinted beneath a half-smile. “Why I believe I just did, didn’t I?” “You did not realize it yourself?” ”I suppose I did not. Though now that I have said so, I believe it to be truth. You have more honor and interest in that dragon heart of yours than any human, dwarf, or even merman that I have met.” “Why friend! I am at a loss for words!” “Oh think nothing of it. Continue with your loss then while I explain the rest.” I told him while I patted his ample side. He nodded slowly and gestured with his snout for me to go on. I think he did this to cover the slight blush that was forming around his cheeks. (I admit that it is hard to tell when a red dragon blushes, but I found that it was not impossible.) Naturally I feigned unawareness of this particular response. “Fear is the foe. So what we must do is turn that fear into admiration. If we go about showing the folks of the world what a kind and gentle, knowledgeable and sensitive dragon you are, why then they’ll have no need to fear you. In fact, with your experience...” “Nine-hundred-thirty-nine years, or forty, I forget these days.” “Amazing!” He simply nodded acceptance. “Then you can become invaluable to those who are cursed with a short lifespan. People such as myself, for example. Why, they’ll not only lose fear of you, but perhaps become friendly with you!” “Yes, yes,” He said. “That sounds perfect.” A pause. “But how, pray tell, do we achieve this end?” “You said we.” ”Why I did indeed!” “Does that mean that you are no longer planning on roasting me?” I asked hopefully. “I do believe that thought had crossed my mind.” “Indeed?” “Forsooth. I believe that as matters stand, roasting you would prove detrimental to my continued existence.” “So then you ask that I help you?” “Certainly, for thinking more about the matter, I believe that this is something I could fain achieve myself. I think perhaps that as a team we could achieve this vision of yours which includes myself becoming friendly with mankind.” “Undeniably!” I exclaimed, awed and relieved at the same time. You’d be amazed how much the portent of friendship with a dragon means when it also indicates that the aforementioned dragon is probably not going to be eating you. “To resume,” he resumed. “How, pray tell, do we achieve this end?” “Uhm,” I replied, once more showing Anazamadyr the phenomenal sharpness of my wit. He cocked a giant eyebrow at me in question, the slightest suggestion of a grimace forming at the edge of his pressed-together lips. This is not a reassuring sight, I will tell you; one never wants to be in the company of a dragon with pressed-together lips. Though, on rethinking that statement, better together than apart. More philosophical wonderings to be wondered at another time. “Uh, that is, I, uh,” I continued, verbally controlling the conversation. “Let me guess,” the Mighty Dragon rumbled softly – well, as softly as a dragon is capable of rumbling. “You have no idea how to achieve this grandiose scheme of yours, do you?” I was thinking quickly, which is to say, not at all. How was I going to... “Speak,” Anazamadyr growled. “Uhm, well,” I stammered. “That is, well, no.” He nodded, the length of his neck leaving pond-sized indentations in the ground. “As I thought,” he sighed. “But that doesn’t mean...” I began. Anazamadyr sighed again and shook his head. “No, small human. You attempted to thwart your destiny by playing on my loneliness. It may have gone better for you, had you been more honest up front and simply accepted your fate.” “But! But! But I thought we were friends.” I yelled, scrambling backward as quickly as I could. “You said you weren’t going to eat me!” “And you said you were going to help me. Now stop so I can eat you!” Uhm, no. Don’t think so. I was half the length of Anazamadyr’s body away by now and gaining speed toward the Bog of Despair. I heard him grunt as he shifted his considerable (far too considerable, if you ask me) bulk to give chase. A moment later I was surprised that he hadn’t caught up to me yet. I considered turning back to see how far away he was, but decided that if I was going to die, I’d face it like a coward running away instead of like a fool facing forward. At that moment, I had no intention of turning around until I landed in the afterlife or hit the East Ocean. “Why,” a voice sounded off to Anazamadyr’s left queried. “Don’t you just eat them? Must you always play with your food?” Anazamadyr’s face twisted into a different, more familiar type of grimace. “Ugh,” he ughed. “Did you see how chubby that one was? I might as well have pasted him on my hips instead of throwing him down my throat. Remember what Dr. Merlin said, anyway, no more fried foods.” The other Anazamadyr chuckled and slithered next to the large, fire-breathing dragon, to place a small paw on his serpentine neck. “Brrrr,” the first Anazamadyr shivered. “You’re especially cold today!” “Well why don’t you warm me up then?” the second replied with a suggestive look in her eyes. The first Anazamadyr glanced at his mate, then looked toward the horizon, where his eyes could still see the running human. He chuckled, then began to nuzzle the smaller dragon. egowhores.com - really love yourself. [This message has been edited by Christopher (03-15-2005 07:49 PM).] |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
It may not have been exactly what the challenge intended, but it was an amazing read. Anything to get YOU to post your fiction!! I enjoyed this very much!!  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This is why I became an avid fan of yours, C. It's tight, it flows, and it's interesting. I wasn't going to reply at all, because one would think after reading this, you would know all of that. I thought I'd just let you know that I thought so too.  And I'm smiling too, thinking this should be printed up, if not by a publisher, then by you as a gift to Aiden. I envy him yanno. He will grow up with wondrous stories. |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
then would it surprise you to know that the one i've been working on semi-recently is entitled "Acquired Narcissism?"  egowhores.com - really love yourself. |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
And now with some time - Thanks Sharon. Both for the challenge (which enabled me to finish up this piece, which has been bothering me for, well, almost five years) and for your ever-kind comments. And you midi-k, thanks as well, for not not commenting.  egowhores.com - really love yourself. |
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Marilyn Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621Ontario, Canada |
*peeking around the corner* Wow. Things have really chnged around here. It is nice to see that somethings will never change though, like your ability to take me to another realm. Nice read my friend. Marilyn. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'm coming back...bookmarked!!! |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
Missed this one the first time, and absolutely loved the whimsical dialogue. It was light, enjoyable and flowed easily. Ya done got several laughs from me, and I especially liked the ending twist. Well done, RPM.  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Now, of course, your dragon had a very Scottish sound....which was good for me. I'll be back with more comments. |
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the romantic fanatic Junior Member
since 2000-08-05
Posts 26Spokane, WA U.S.A. |
As always, a wonderful piece of literature. From the feel of it and the dialogue itself, it doesn't seem as though you have accomplished even what you had set out to do. The language used is fairly straightforward and modern, not quite keeping in step with what you intended as a period piece. It does catch you off gaurd and makes you think a bit, but borders on being silly. I have not logged in for a while and have not spoken to you since March, but I thought the first thing I should do is rip apart one of your submissions. Of course, mine are easy targets, so there would be no sense of accomplishment in critiquing my postings. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel. I enjoyed the read, though. Good day! D-mon |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
you trying to convince me you actually read the whole thing, D? K - i didn't see that you'd replied. i, do, however, think i can see a bit o' the scot in old Azy now that you mention it. |
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