Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Describe This: Where are you?

Now that we're back from 'sin city', where are we?

What is your usual place to hang out? What do you see in front of you? Are you in a room? What's it like? A town? What's in the town? A bar with 27 different forms of alien life? What type of alien life? Or - the really important question - will they buy me a drink?

Let us know where you hang. Go ahead, describe it!


DESTINY said...

I am everywhere, I see everything, and I see you.

It's alot to take in at once.

I am your Destiny.

S'Rak said...

I am in my temple. Black marble walls, shot with silver, blue flames dancing beneath silver glyphs, overhead, the dome of the night sky, the cool radiance of stars lighting our way.

Ninevah said...

I'm not sure where I hung out before I lost my memory. I don't leave the house much these days--if I do, I get--um--we'll just say I get overwhelmed. My roommate redecorated my room while I was in the hospital. Now it's all zen and stuff, a nice place to relax


Anonymous said...


I live with my mom and dad in a house. I have my own room.

Hi S'rak. I was in the hospital too. I'd get mad if my mom re-decorated my room. She didn't.


Goran Njiric said...

My usual place was a small diner in the arts district. It was built exactly like something out of the 1950s. Sleek lines, chrome, jukebox (Old style, with the original kind of album. Real vinyl. It's an artifact, but they still use it. Must've cost a fortune.) I enjoyed the silliness of it. It didn't hurt that the food was probably some of the best in the entire station.

Now that I'm on a ship, I spend most of my time in the low commons. No alcohol on the ship, and my diet is restricted and tracked by a nutritionist, but the company is good. Most of the people here are doing it for training. They want to work on their own ships someday, so hearing most of their descriptions of their perfect ship is a fun pastime. Twenty people sit down here, and we've got some of the best stuff, considering that some lifers actually have to live down here.

Other than the no liquor and the tiny coffin beds, it's very nice, despite the cramped nature of everything. The rows are two coffins high, and stretch around the edge of the ship, allowing enough room for two airlocks on opposite sides, one of which must be dark-side at all times.

Everything was white when we first got into the ship, but some people brought temporary paints, so it's slowly taking on a surreal, multicolored quality in the commons. I'm honestly surprised no one has tried to kill Jameson for painting a garish pink and yellow parody of the Earth the door to his capsule. It is quite possibly the most garish thing I have ever seen.

Anonymous said...


I meant Ninevah.

Hi Ninevah

Hi S'Rak. That would be cool to live in a temple.


The Screaming Guppy said...

This time it’s Harglen, the city on the sea owned by Plix and his lawers. I brought us to this placed because an old friend always wanted to see the Harglen arena. It’s one of the few pits on the ocean itself, instead of just off the beach. Sure, all the towns left are on the shore – the wilds, the undead, they occupy the inland, see – but this one is different.

Not just a sand pit with a bunch of seats around it. The Harglen arena is gutted center of an old building from the ‘height of humanity’ or some garbage. The walls on the west side are tall, very tall. But the pit itself floats with the tide, surrounded by water and chain link fences that touch the sky. We wranglers fight our catches here, the wilds we bring in from the inland. What makes it most interesting the sharks that hang around, always looking for a foot to slip into the water.

The rest of Harglen is the same as everywhere else. Overpopulated alleyways, filled with starving people, whores and slavers, all looking to kill each other if it will put dinner on the table. You don’t leave your stall without a gun and knife, ever. The lawers claim they’ve got things under control, but anyone with half a brain knows that’s a load of shit.


Candy said...

I live on a wet street (It always seems to be raining lately) in London's East end. Our flat is below street level so all I see are people's legs going by the windows. Our furniture was left over from the last tenant; an old couch I cover with a sheet because it looked too grubby to touch, three chairs which probably belonged to a nice diningroom set once, and an old brown table we eat off of.The bedroom is just big enough for the mattress on the floor. Brian laughs when I tell him I have trouble sleeping in case a burglar breaks in and steps on me. But it's true.
The kitchen is the only room with daylight because it has windows onto an overgrown garden the landlord told us not to go into. I think perhaps he's buried bodies out there.The whole place always smells of gas from the small stove. The loo I won't describe except that it's like a small, grimy cupboard with a toilet and shower squeezed into it.
We burn a lot of candles to save electricity and Brian has stuck posters of rock stars on the walls everywhere. I think he sees himself when he looks at them.
Oh, our front door is black and has a devil's head door knocker on it.
At first it was exciting living here with Brian -but now I bloody well hate it!

Anonymous said...

Right now I'm stuck in a very large swamp. At first I thought the smell would kill me, but I've grown used to it. I think I should be worried that the smell has stopped bothering me, but at least I am no longer losing my will to live!

I'm here with Dunstan who is... very golden-haired. And long-lashed. It makes me nervous.

Ooh he's found a strange fruit! It smells like rotting flesh but somehow I feel like eating it. Mmm. Yummy.

Dunstan just snatched the fruit away from me! The horrid boy is refusing to share! So much for chivalry. Ooh more fruits!

There's a trail leading to- a huge tree filled with the smelly fruits!!

Oh dear. The fruit tree has tentacles.

And teeth. Have to go now. Bye. Dunstan in mortal peril.

S'Rak said...

Shadow... as in a state of mind, or of being? And why is having your own room important, and why would parents wish to redecorate it?

Living in a temple is what it is and better than being under the hammer of the sun. I have my own room, too. And no one redecorates it.

Anonymous said...

Hi S'Rak

I don't know. Your temple sounds cool. I like the black walls.

I like having my own room. I can close my door, and my mom and dad stay out. I can listen to music.

Are you a god? I wish I was a god. Then I could do anything.


Aidan said...

I'm on my uncle's plane headed to Prague. We have somebody to find. I'm with my cousins, so it's all quiet. (They did something to keep me out of their heads. Not sure why. I don't take up much space.)

I'm sitting in the chair where Dad handcuffed my brother. We should get those scratches buffed out sometime.

Shadow, I have my own room too but everyone comes in without knocking, so I may as well just sleep in the kitchen or something.

Aidan said...


I seriously couldn't live without whiskey. And my cousins...they'd be alcoholics if demons were susceptible, I guess.

I drink and drink and drink and never really get drunk. It sucks.

Kalila said...

I'm in one of my lamps right now. It's quite nice and comfortable, by a djinn's standards, although a human would think otherwise. Humans have terrible decorating taste.

I know how humans decorate because I have to spend a lot of time at Ricky's apartment protecting him. He has ghastly brushed-steel lamps and framed black and white photos of buildings on his walls. It's so terrible that a lot of times when I'm there, I'll hang out in cat form. That way I'm closer to the ground and don't have to see what's on the walls. But Ricky doesn't understand who I am when I'm a cat and he tries to give me kibble and threatens to take me to the "vet" when I don't eat it. So I vanish it when he's not looking, and then we're all happy.

Humans are so dumb.

Fin said...

My house is glorious. It's incredible what women can do with limited resources but no men around to tell them "no pink".
The first time I walked into mom's house, it was home. There are pink wingback chairs and violet walls. The floor in my room is painted green and the rest of this house follows suit.

What's really fantastic about where I am though, is that we live off of our land. I spend time embedding dirt in my fingernails on the weekends because most of our backyard is garden.

Every morning I wake up to gray haze and I have to say I love it. Sunshine is too happy early in the morning. This place suits me.

J.T Wilbanks said...

At the moment I'm setting in the wreck room of the girl's dorm with Tombo and Esmay, watching music videos on FUSE and eating corn chips.

Tommy boy seems to be transfixed by the male led singer of the band while Esmay has a look on her face that suggests she isn't paying much attention. Every now and then she'll still a glance at me before acting like something interesting happened on the screen and looking away. She's such a strange girl.

Other kids are watching seperate televisions or lounging around. A girl who's name I think is Jodie is cooking in the well lit mini kitchen. Correction: I think she's burning something in the well lit mini kitchen. I hope this place has fire alarms.

I miss home, but this school is safe and I'm feeling a little more at home everyday.

I'm going to get more corn chips.


Dara said...

I used to live in Tokyo, in the foreigner's district, with the pastor and his family. But now I'm here, in a small mountain village in northern Japan, living under a different name.

Despite my guardian family trying their best to keep me from everyone's view, it's hard to hide the arrival of a girl who's half foreign and towers above all the women in town. The whispers and stares are more obvious here in a place that is still so unused to anything with foreign influence--especially someone who is so clearly a mix of East and West.

Even members of my guardian family have made it clear to me that they are uncomfortable with my presence.

Still, I am finding myself falling in love with the village, despite the difficulties. It's much more peaceful than the busy streets of Tokyo. The cherry blossoms are beginning to bloom and the flower laden branches form a beautiful and fragrant pink curtain along the old samurai quarter. I often feel as if I am no longer in 1890 but back 100 years earlier in the time of the samurai.

Perhaps in time, the villagers will grow used to my presence. I cannot help but desire a place where I can belong.

Dara said...

Oh, I forgot to sign my name, silly me.

--Naomi Rochester

Aidan said...

That sounds awesome. I remember hanging out at university (Cambridge) like that, just watching TV and messing around.

Corn chips. Now I'm hungry.

Ninevah said...

Wow! Ya'll live in such sensational places. Maybe my secret wouldn't have seemed all that strange to this group.

Marilyn Peake said...

Wrapped in discolored bandages, I lie motionless upon a display shelf behind a glass partition within the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. The living parade past me, for hours on end. I’ve been turned into a piece of art and placed on display, along with other Egyptian artifacts: richly painted coffins in gold and turquoise, one decorated with a wide-eyed Egyptian face, and sacred objects removed from tombs.
It is not right, and I will have my revenge. Here is the message I deliver to the Moon family:
"When I died, my family filled my tomb with food, wine, jewelry, furniture. As my Ka rose up from the dead, it discovered that all the needs of my spirit had been met. Ka absorbed the life-giving force of food and drink, and settled into its new home within the tomb. Ba also rose strong and powerful. In the form of a bird, it flew back and forth between my body and the afterlife. Ka and Ba combined into a beautiful Akh, my shape within the underworld. I had worked hard in life. In death, I was rewarded."
"Explorers unearthed me – pulled me from my tomb, shipped me far away across an ocean, hauled me into this cold, square building, stuck me behind glass and shined lights on me every day. My Ka is lost. I’ve had to fend for myself for years now, finding food and drink and other things within this building. Now, to my intense horror, my Ba can no longer find my body. Lost within eternal realms, its disorientation has caused my Akh to begin a path toward disintegration and annihilation."

- The Mummy, character in the short story, Mummy in the Art Museum, published in the Twisted Tails II: Volume 1 – Time on our Hands anthology

Marilyn Peake said...

Here’s how my first sighting of the Obelisk in Central Park of New York City was described:

"The Obelisk in Central Park transfixed the girl. She failed to notice brilliant, falling rays of sunlight when her gaze locked tightly onto the image of that ancient structure. Tall shaggy trees shook dappling shade all around her and mostly it was quiet, so the Park served as the perfect place for Anabelle Moon’s first outings. Under a stone bridge just beyond the Obelisk, musicians played, with empty hats turned upside down and plastic jugs upon the ground, hoping to collect money. The arched bridge amplified the musical notes of saxophones, violins, and horns; but Anabelle’s concentration stood steady on the Obelisk.

"That pink granite structure – with its upright three-dimensional rectangle topped by a triangular pyramid – is a lesson in mathematics. It points straight up into the heavens while delivering hieroglyphics along its trunk. Measuring 71 feet in height and weighing 244 tons, the Obelisk has a long, varied history. Having entered the world around 1500 B.C. when the Egyptian Pharaoh Thutmosis III ordered its construction for a ceremony in his honor, it then served as one of two obelisks guarding the Temple of the Sun in the sacred city of Heliopolis on the Nile River. Much later, around 12 B.C., under the direction of Emperor Augustus Caesar, the Romans moved the granite pillars along the Nile River to Alexandria. In the modern year 1869, Ismail Pasha, the Khedive of Egypt, gave one of the obelisks to the United States in an attempt to energize his country’s economy. At that point in time, the colossal structure that is the Central Park Obelisk departed from its twin and traveled across the Mediterranean Sea and the storm swept Atlantic Ocean in the hold of a ship without breaking.

"While Anabelle gazed upon the height and calculated the measurements of her beloved Obelisk, four bronze replicas of Roman-designed sea crabs guarded the corners of the pillar’s base."

Anabelle Moon, main character (young girl) diagnosed with several possible labels: "autism", "idiot savant" and "Asperger’s Syndrome" and excerpt from Mummy in the Art Museum, published in the Twisted Tails II: Volume 1 – Time on our Hands anthology

Goran Njiric said...

Aidan - That seems terrible. I can live without drink for a while, but you can't underestimate the corrective properties of a hangover. One morning, when you wake up with heartburn from the tequila, and you look around your battered flat at all of the remnants of horrors from the night before (and I don't just mean the clingy guy from the bar), and it becomes easy to say "I'm never doing that again.

Of course, a few months later you do, but you save it for a few months.

Fin- That sounds quite nice, actually. What's it like planting things? I haven't had much experience. Every plant I've tried to raise dies almost immediately. The only thing that I haven't been able to kill is this old moss that has a hibernation mode. But it's ugly.

Aidan said...

A hangover--I've heard of those--saw it at my college house at university.

I never got hangovers. But I used to be able to get drunk before I came into my Sight. Now that I really need it, I can't catch a buzz.

It's not all bad, though. The whiskey still tastes really good. My grandfather apparently laid in about 100 barrels when we were born. I guess he thought we'd need it.

Elaine 'still writing' Smith said...

The house that wasn’t really mine any more – it was no longer home – it was just one more place where my Mum couldn’t be:

I stared at the familiar black varnished door set in the narrow terraced house. Then I forced my eyes to move to the large downstairs window where the lowered blinds held back stares rather than light. I let my eyes rise from this dark void to the single window above.
I felt the sharp pain somewhere in the region of my heart.
I realised the building sense of panic, disorientation and fright was increasing because I had forgotten to breathe.
This dark shell had once been my home: lightless, warmthless and hollow now it was just a house.


Anonymous said...

I'm not sure where we are. My sister Mackenna opened a rift and we streamed through.

Can you help us?


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Marenya said...

I am in the cave with Raynor. This is just a stopping place before we move deeper under the mountains. It's dry in here, at least. I can hear the roaring of the waterfall that is blocking the larger cavern next to this one. He made the water stop when we came in and then started it again, so I can't get out now.

Half of this cave has been made into a stable, which is where the horse is. The other half is a barrack. We are lying on straw mattresses on pallets, beneath wool blankets. The fire is burning down. The smoke goes through some outlet in the roof but I can't see it. The top of the cave is peaked, as if two sides had collapsed on each other to form it.

It smells like the bacon we cooked for our meal. And horse. And stale straw. And that musty cave smell.

Nighfala is watching me. She makes me nervous. I don't think lions can be pets.

I want to stay awake but I can't. We rode all night. My leg is killing me where it broke and Raynor mended it.

I... have... to... stay....... a....wake...........

Mira said...

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Well, not speechless, exactly, but I'm really happy. Thanks. :-)

I see you got an award from a writer's organization. You must have an amazing blog - I'll check it out.

Thanks again - I'm really glad you like the site.


Anonymous said...

Hi Aidan

That sucks. Tell them to knock.

Hi Ella

How can I help?


Brokerage said...

Can barely talk. Board meeting is in 30 minutes, I have to prepare.

My office is huge. Needs to be to intimidate clients and subordinates. Leather chairs, plush rug, separate bathroom with a shower, huge window with a view of the city. Good thing it's comfortable. I practically live here.

My apartment is decorated by a designer, and all the ladies who see it tell me it's amazing. They only see it once though. Heh. I barely see it myself.

Gotta go. Board awaits.


shy said...

Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.

~~Charles Dickens

Anonymous said...

Shadow, can you help us get back?

Mim told us not to stream. She said I didn't have enough practice. All I wanted to do was find Mom and Dad.

It's all my fault. I should have listened to Mim but instead I persuaded Mackenna to open the rift, and now I don't know how to get back.

What should we do Shadow?

Josiah said...


If you were older, I'd give you a taste of scotch. But I gather you are underage, and even here in the goldfields we have standards.

My favorite place to hang out indoors is my cabin. I've got a player piano and small library. But most days, when I'm not in the engineer's shack, you'll find me on the stream fly-fishing.

When I get done with this tunnel design I'll come back and talk with you some more.


Anonymous said...

Hi Ella,

I don't know.

Maybe you should find your mom and dad.

I hope you get home.

Hi Josiah,


I'd like to learn to fly fish.

You could give me a little scotch. I won't tell.