Month: August 2014
So, one of the entries in my weird notebook was
“buying pigs ears as a gift would be well recieved.”
So, one day after finishing work I was wandering around Sainsbury’s and saw pigs ears, and immediately my mind went into overdrive with how funny it would be to buy pigs ears as a gift for a vegetarian friend.
So I did.
I then stopped by their house, and as I entered the room threw everyone a pigs ear. My vegetarian friend was a little bemused and thought it funny when another friend shouted “I’m Jewish” and my brain caught up, I’d completely forgotten about the fact she was Jewish, and as it turns out, whilst she thought it was funny it was still a shock to her. We didn’t know each other too well at this point and it really broke the ice for someone who would become a good friend.
What was also cool is that the pigs ears just wouldn’t go away, despite them being thrown away frequently, they just kept turning up, I suspect someone must have been buying them and planting them to maintain the joke, but even now I’d bet there’s a pigs ear somewhere in that house, probably in the cellar
So, something cool popped up in my sorting of the house, and here it is
When I was at uni myself and a friend were up late one night talking crap and decided it would be really good to have a notebook always handy for recording those stupid conversations and great ideas (normally brought on by alcohol). So we bought each other a notebook, I got him one with an ugly looking frog on the front, and he got me this, complete with some awesome pictures of him being weird.
This book then became my jotting pad for all sorts of weird stuff that came into my head. Unfortunately it never got filled, because weirdly having the book almost became a barrier to the process, but some good stuff was there and future posts will likely record some of it
This was a cool addition my friend made to page one, a map of the earth. Knowing my propensity to upset people of other nationalities with broad crass generalisations about them and their culture that just happened to be true enough not to fall into ignorance or racism he gave me an opportunity to cross those countries off the map
So, recently I watched the Robocop remake and I can’t remember it, I’m sure I said it was ok but just not the same. Tonight I watched the original
Yeah, it’s really shit, but it’s also really awesome. The satire is sharp, and has over twenty something years become even sharper, and the gore and mindless violence does a lot to hide it. No, not hide it, but disguise it. You know it’s in your face but that’s ok because someone’s just had his hand blown off.
Yeah, I really enjoyed watching it. So i said I’d be in bed shortly (to my partner of course) but Robocop 2 is there so I can’t guarantee it.
Then again it’s just loaded up and the bright blue armour is a put off
So, I’m sat here watching a few old fellas playing pool and I’m reminiscing. I suck, normally when I play I’m not wearing my glasses so can’t see the end of the table, but even with them on I suck. This of course is aside from the fact that I haven’t played in about two years.
It wasn’t always that bad, well it was, I was always crap, but once upon a time- at uni- I would play weekly at the strangely unpopular £1 a pint Tuesday nights at the student union, when the table was normally empty. I improved over the 18 months we played, but still lost far more often than I won.
But now I’m sitting watching a game and can see every single shot they plan to make.
so am I latently good?
I would say no, latent means nothing without some actual ability- and practice of course.
But I’m watching and I can see every shot. And it goes beyond that. When a shot fails I can see what they wanted and this isn’t like watching a near miss and thinking they wanted to pot that, but seeing where they wanted the ball to finish.
Next time I’m in the pub alone (most of the times I’m there) I may just fire a pound in the table and see what I can do.
So, yet another batch of role play posts
Lorenzo was in a bad way, Palgrys could see that even without his apothecary experience.
The countless breaks and cuts from fighting the carnifex were bad enough, the lost hand an issue, but nothing I’m comparison to the hole burnt through his chest. His second heart had been torn apart and a hole burnt clean through to his armour generator.
He was alive and his body had clotted the blood, but he’d entered a coma, likely unconsciously.
Palgrys’ own injuries were severe too, although he’d escaped major injury against the carnifex, the beams from the necrons weapon had caused some serious damage both to his armour and body. And his narthecium had been damaged against the ‘fex.
Things were not looking good, and emperor knew where D’Antine had gone. Something was unusual too, when he’d first seen him his armour had been red and battered by the tyranid, when he’d gone it was blue, and intact.
Lorenzo first, Palgrys told himself. Fix him up and we’ll do it together
THIS IS APOTHECARY PALGRYS OF THE SOUL DRINKERS CHAPTER BROADCASTING ON AN OPEN FREQUENCY IN NEED OF AID AND EXTRACTION.
HOSTILE TERRITORY. ENEMIES LOOSE. NECRON PRESENCE.
Palgrys had been openly voxing his request for some time, not expecting a response, but hopeful of extraction from somewhere. Lorenzo was stabilised, though he’d need extensive bionics if he survived his injuries.
D’Antine had disappeared and Palgrys didn’t expect him to return anytime soon. In the meantime he had collected up as many Boltgun shells as he could from various stasis chambers and damaged “exhibits” and was ready to move once he could get Lorenzo conscious and coherent again
“I am Apothecary Palgrys of the Soul Drinkers chapter, this is Sergeant Lorenzo of the Crimson Fists, I’d rate his chances of survival at roughly 30% without assistance, my narthecium was damaged taking down a Carnifex and I can only administer basic aid. My injuries are also substantial, so any protective aid you can offer will be most appreciated. Sergeant Lorenzo seems to be rousing and I can keep him moving at a slightly slower pace, at least for the foreseeable.
We must find communication with outside forces or in failing that a method of destroying these necrons”
“Your help is appreciated,” Palgrys said diplomatically, keen to avoid further tension, with the grey area that was his chapter still a potential issue, and the potential for real trouble if D’Antine reappeared he knew he needed all the allies he could get, “rendezvousing with imperial forces would seem the best option.”
Palgrys helped the rousing Lorenzo to his feet and supported his walking as they prepared to move out. Lorenzo was barely coherent but his marine biology was doing it’s best. Palgrys himself knew his body was at it’s limit too, but with additional forces future exertions should be less intense
D’Antine could have been walking moments, or an eternity, it didn’t matter. He needn’t trouble himself with any concept as basic as time now. Not now he was refreshed and restored.
The voices in the immaterium has promised much, he wasn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t trust them, but they thought he could be trusted, so why not use him.
Why not let them think he’d be their pawn, the only truth was his body had been close to death, his armour useless. But his mind was alive, and it had bargained, it had fooled the voices into healing the body, replacing the armour, and filling his memories, all those gaps ten thousand years of Imprisonment created. He now saw what had come of his legion, smashed by those filthy wolves, Russ and his dogs. Let down by the emperor, fooled by the voices.
But he was better than that, he knew,.
He knew he was capable of beating them, because he was loyal to the emperor, and he would not falter.
He had reached his destination
D’Antine had done it.
He’d found what he’d been sent for.
He’d flicked the switch on a bank of lights and completed whatever requirement the voices had demanded for the restoration of his body and armour.
Daemons, not voices, he knew that. And he’d used their promises against them, what was flicking a few switches compared to being restored.
Ahead of him a light grew stronger, something was happening, a green glow was building.
This must be what the daemons wanted. Never mind, he was restored, now he could go about contacting the imperium. Perhaps he’d go back for the other space marines
this is the end, at least for now. The other participants haven’t been active and I don’t want to go nuts on posts, so we’ll see what happens
so, another load
Palgrys was climbing to his feet as another bolt sliced through his ceramite armour, lancing into his side and throwing him down again
Lorenzo reloaded his Boltgun and charged firing at the lychguard, his power weapon buzzing with electrical energy
Palgrys raised himself up, knowing his injury was bad, feeling blood running down the inside of his armour, his marine biology slowly clotting, but somehow restricted by the energy of the blast that his him.
Raising his bolter he unleashed shells at the necron lychguard to cover Lorenzo.
Lorenzos power sword thrummed as he reached the lychguard and swung the blade heavily at the necrons waist.
D’Antines armour had finished it’s knitting, the pale blue colour now shining over the armour. Gold trim had been finished and his proud looking helmet floated from the rubble and attached at the neck.
He raised up feeling more powerful than he ever had, his deal with the voices in the immaterium having fixed up his body and armour.
Rising from the ground he summoned his psychic powers to him, testing his body and feeling energy thrum through him. His attention switched to the necron Lorenzo was engaged with, unleashing a blast of flame hotter than anything he had ever summoned before
As Lorenzo charged the lychguard a white light enveloped it, and his helmet display when white. Immediately he pulled up not wanting to get close, he saw the necrons weapon slam into the floor infront of him, taking just a second to realise it would have cut right through him, he slammed his power sword straight forward at the off balanced necrons exposed face.
D’Antine stopped blasting and stepped towards the necron. He could see Lorenzo was in no fit state for a close quarters battle and had to help, refocusing he sent deadly energy coursing through his force sword.
Palgrys stepped gingerly forward, not in any position to help anyone right now, he slammed his narthecium into his exposed side and injected a painkilling drug into his scorched flesh.
Looking back up he was shocked to see D’Antine blasting flame at the necron, his injuries shouldn’t have taken that exertion. His armour was also fully repaired inexplicably. He then took in Lorenzo, in a far worse state engaged with a necron. Palgrys held his breath as the necron very nearly cut Lorenzo in half, only for Lorenzo to back out at the last second.
Hefting his narthecium and bolter he moved painfully forward ready for a fight
Lorenzo backed away from a swing at his hands, unfortunately his already damaged body and armour slower him and his right arm was sliced clean through at the wrist.
Grunting in pain he hefted his power sword (in his left) and swung it in and the chest of the necron.
D’Antine saw lorenzos gauntleted hand bounce away and disregarded it has the necron infront of him came into reach, psychic energy thrummed through the blade as he slammed it through the chest of the creature
Palgrys stumbled, the painkillers had kicked in and his body finally clotted, but he was weakened, the blast has done some serious damage to him, he watched Lorenzo lose a hand and D’Antine step in beside him. He was angry at himself for being too slow to reach them
Lorenzo felt his body clotting his wrist as his power sword thrummed through the necron, before he could drag his blade away a metal fist clamped around his throat, crushing the already damaged joint. Making to pull away he lost balance as the necron pulled the other way and dragged him onto his weapon. Lorenzo dropped his sword as the necrons rod smashed through his ceramite and through his second heart, continuing and stopping only at the power generator on his back
D’Antine powered energy through his force sword before lurching backwards from the flailing grip of the necron. Lorenzo wasn’t quick enough and had been impaled through the chest. Tearing his force sword from the necron he aimed a downward thrust at the creatures neck.
Palgrys staggered to the combat, just in time to see Lorenzo dragged onto a necron weapon, he aimed his bolter and unleashed more shells at the necron before moving to lorenzos side
The necron disappeared and D’Antine allowed his energy to seep away, his breathing heavy but his body restored
Lorenzo dropped heavily to the ground as the necrons staff disappeared, leaving a void through his chest which was immediately filled with blood.
Palgrys dropped down painfully next to Lorenzo, straining to roll him to his front
“D’Antine help me…”
D’Antine lowered his gaze, taking in Lorenzo and the apothecary, his cold voice grated from his helmet, “you can’t help him apothecary, he will die shortly.”
“D’Antine, he helped you, now help me.”
“Apothecary, you’ll be better served helping yourself, your injuries look serous too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a task I will return later.”
D’Antine stalked away and Palgrys was left to tend Lorenzo alone.
So, another quote I enjoyed. I saw this written on the back of some hippy at a weird music festival.
once you realise how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky
Now, I suspect being high would give even more meaning to this, as it happens I wasn’t, but something about it resonated.
I think too many people spend too much time not appreciating the perfect thing, and not enough time forgetting about the bad.
It’s become especially pertinent to me now that the bad probably outweighs the perfect- in quantity, not quality.
Maybe Iv missed some even deeper meaning, but it’s still nice.
So, another batch
Lorenzo wasn’t entirely sure what happened, as the creature impacted with him and Palgrys, D’Antine had slammed his weapon through the ragged hole in it’s carapace. Next thing the creature exploded, flinging Lorenzo across the chamber followed closely by a wave of acidic gore.
D’Antine had retrieved his force sword and charged in at the creature just as it swung it’s claws into the other marines, focusing with the last of his strength he thrust the weapon into the flesh under the creatures armoured back and channelled his energies through it’s blade. The creature glowed faintly for an unnoticed moment before detonating in a tidal wave of ogre. Then D’Antine passed out.
Palgrys barely had time to dive aside as a crushing claw swung, dodging the pincer grip he was instead slammed bodily across the room, his armourplate crushed with the force. When he turned and rose he saw the ‘fex gone, to be replaced by a pool of steaming wet ichor. He staggered forward towards the nearest marine shaped pile of carnifex
Palgrys dragged a marine from the gore, unsure which one for the moment he could see the acidic blood had eaten through the paint and begun to eat away at the ceramite too.
The marine was missing his helmet and his skin was steaming as the acid ate away.
Palgrys dragged him clear, tearing a rag from a nearby corpse and wiping what he could from the flesh of the marine.
Lorenzo rose slowly, his HUD display glowing red as every system protested the movement. Blink clicking the alarms away he staggered towards the hunched figure of the purple space marine. As he neared him he saw it was an apothecary of the Soul Drinkers chapter, declared excommunicatus, but later exonerated at the word of Lysander of his founding chapter, the Imperial Fists. The apothecary was working quickly over the still form of D’Antine, clearing his exposed flesh of the acidic ogre from the carnifex. Fortunately, aside from some paint scouring the acid had had little effect on his armour, though the armour would likely be unusable in the long term.
“Apothecary, how can I assist?”
“Sergeant, how are your wounds?”
“I’m holding up, this looks more urgent.”
The apothecary glanced over his battered power armour before responding
“Very well, I need cloth, rags, anything to clear this muck from him before it’s too late. If you happen upon medical supplies of any kind that would help, but it’s unlikely. After I want you to have ready a full assessment of your physical state and we can get you fixed up too.”
“Ok, I’ll be back.”
Lorenzo moved as quickly as he could, on the hunt for supplies.
Apothecary Palgrys went back to work, clearing the acidic blood from the throat of the space marine in front of him
D’Antine was lost. He wandered alone in a darkened chamber, swirls of every colour, and no colour, drifted around him. Creatures passed around his perception, existing, but not existing just on the edges of his reality.
“What is this” he said aloud. Looking down to his armour to inspect for damage from his recent battle he was shocked to see it intact. Not intact. The wrong colour, gone was the proud red, in it’s place a blue, with gold trim.
In the darkness he could see bright concentrations of power. He had seen this before, other psykers within the empyrean.
So I’m outside of the mortal realm, he realised, nothing is real.
“All is real, all is false” a voice replied
Raising his bolter D’Antine circled, looking for the source.
“You won’t see me, because I don’t exist, and I do exist.”
“I am showing myself, or rather, I am showing what I can offer.”
“Stop the riddles, speak plainly.”
“I can offer you redemption, a return to the form of your brothers, reunited with your legion.”
“Speak quickly voice, I would hear everything…”
Lorenzo had returned with a limited supply of medical equipment, most not potent enough to aid a space marine, but Palgrys had done his best with what he had.
“I have cleared the acids of the creature he slayed and reset the broken bones. I cannot determine whether he has entered hibernation or is simply not conscious, but all we can do is watch over him for now.”
“And your injuries? I must see to you.”
“My injuries will heal given time,”
‘I am familiar with the biology of our kind crimson fist, however, this isn’t an environment given over to bedrest.”
Lorenzo hesitated, “apothecary, whilst your lineage is to be respected, there is still a general unease regarding your chapters former actions. I cannot allow myself to lay with marines such as yourself and sergeant D’Antine.”
“We fight for the emperor, we always have. You inform me Lysander of the Imperial Fists decreed my chapter to be loyal, that should be enough for you.”
Grudgingly Lorenzo had to agree, “very well, if only due to my respect to a son of Dorn.”
“So, your injuries sergeant.”
Palgrys was summarising lorenzos injuries when a green beam sliced into his back generator. He was thrown to the ground as Lorenzo lifted his bolter and unleashed a torrent of explosive bolt rounds at the necron ahead of him.
D’Antine was awake his discussion in the immaterium had ended. And now he was awake.
Pain was present, but it was negligible.
His deal with the voice seemed to have benefitted him, he opened his eyes, glanced down to see his armour. It was in a terrible state, the battle with the carnifex has been devastating, but even now he could see the ceramite knitting back together, the joints flexing and damage disappearing, there also seemed to be a blue tint to it.
He looked to the two marines above him, focusing on their voices as a beam slammed into the back of the marine in purple
So, I read this one having wanted to for a very long time. I enjoyed the cartoon when I was younger and wanted to give the rest a go, so around the world in eighty days by jules Verne.
Now, I enjoyed it, but it all just felt too easy and convenient. Not for the first time have I read a ‘classic’ only to be shocked and disappointed at the lack of complexity.
Phileas fogg bets he can circumnavigate the world in 80 days, and goes on to do so. There are complications along the way, as well as moments of good fortune.
A secondary plot regarding theft of a large sum of money was interesting until it just went away midway through the book.
It felt like a light read more than anything else
So, tonight if was sat in the pub with a pint, my pad and a pen just scribbling writings down (I think I was writing about rough hands at the time) when a woman, clearly with a couple of drinks in her sat down in front of me. It took a few moments for me to break my concentration before looking up to see a woman in her forties looking at me and waiting for a response (see my post about stereotypical mid life drinkers)
“Pardon?” I ask
“Don’t worry, I just wanted to ask what you were writing.”
“Um…” I pause, not really sure how to explain it
“Is it a diary or journal?”
“It’s ok, nothing to be embarrassed about.”
At this point another woman joins us, this one younger, probably early to mid twenties, a little too skinny with a head and eyes a little too big, wearing a baggy top that you only see on girls that are skinny but obsessed with their weight.
“I’m just asking him what he’s writing.” Says the older woman
“I’m just writing what comes to me.” Yeah good one, a good way of explaining it, “I’m doing a creative writing course.”
This is a lie, but Iv looked at doing one so seemed an easy out. What followed was a few questions from the younger girl about where, etc before it got more specific
“So why write here in the pub?”
“It’s just a change of scenery, I can absorb the atmosphere and also get a short break from the house, being a stay at home dad and carer.”
“Oh wow, so this is your downtime?” The older one
“Yeah if you like.”
“So what are you writing? I have an idea for a fantastic plot for a romantic novel,” the young ones getting enthusiastic, “two people meet and really dislike each other, but over time they fall in love.”
“Yeah that’s good,” I lie, “I’m actually writing something a bit more dystopian.” Hoping this will put them off
“Oh wow, have you read brave new world, or heart of darkness?”
“Iv read the second yeah, not brave new world.”
Some more chitchat about it then they go back off to their friends apologising for interrupting me.
I go back to my writing grumbling internally about being interrupted in a public place- what are the chances right?
A little later I’m still writing away when a familiar voice interrupts me
“So how old are your children?”
Looking up again I see the younger girl sat at the next table surrounded by handbags as she’s seemingly been abandoned for the cigarette run.
“Six and nearly two,” I reply always happy to talk about my kids, “a boy and a girl.”
“Aw, I don’t think I’d be ready to have kids, I think I’d be selfish and focus on my career so I can provide.”
“That’s fair enough, having one changes things mind.”
“Yeah, hey you wanna hear a sad story, the reason we’re out drinking tonight?” I sense instability, “I saw someone die Monday. Oh and isn’t it sad that I’m 24 and haven’t ever been in a long term relationship.”
“Well that’s a pretty crap week then.” I’m out of this conversation, she’s clearly got some issues. Fortunately her friends arrived back and I was able to stop talking to them.
Afterwards I did feel some pity for her, obviously seeing someone die is going to be an issue, but more that she’s made this decision about not having children until she’s older when she clearly hasn’t even experienced love yet. She’s missing out. Unfortunately for her they left for the globe, I doubt they’ll find love there.