Joat116

A weathered man moved forward down a winding path.

Weathered? Moved?

It seems an odd choice of words. Not weathered... perhaps... aged? No, that implies he was elderly and he is not. Seasoned? No, the connotation of experienced follows too closely and he is most certainly not that. What is he then? Certainly he is more than he was. Yet he is by no means complete or near the end of his journey. Perhaps there is no word that fits. Perhaps he is just a man with a past as all men have and a future stretched out before him.

And moved? As weathered said too much moved says too little. He did not simply float forward at some steady predetermined rate. At times he trudged, barely able to move forward at all. At times he moved lightly almost dancing over the ground under him. Joyous and exuberantly he traveled over the roads he chose. Moved conveys none of this. Moved is generic and unappetizing. Perhaps the man traveled. Travel carries with it the air of the exotic, the idea of variety. I think it appropriate.

A man traveled forward down a winding path. Others joined him as he went, picking his way through the elaborate system of paths seemingly at random.

Others? How vague. How generic. They were not others. They were friends, enemies, loves and losts. They were the people that made up his life. I've heard people say before, "He lead a life of great events." How sad I feel for them. How much more privelaged they would have been to lead a life of great people as I have. I apologize, I've digressed. Others however is clearly not appropriate. Friends? But they were not all friends. Is there any word that encompasses all those that touch our lives? I can think of none. Here then I'll create what I need. They were Tramin. Tramin joined him.

And the Tramin did not join him. He was not a leader of Tramin. He held no station above any of them in the rankings of life. Their paths simply joined with his for a time and then more often than not diverged.

Nor did he pick his way. He followed a very certain route. I do not know how it was marked. I saw no indications nor signs that said he must move this way or that. Yet there was never hesitation as he turned this way or that. No, he did not pick. He followed.

A man traveled forward down a winding path. Tramin touched him as he went, following his way through the elaborate system of paths. For most their touch lay on him lightly. The whisper of a breeze caressing his skin. But some held him as he traveled. Their existence as much a part of him as he himself was. At times he noticed the paths took him to places he had been before. More often than not he smiled in recognition as he saw again Tramin whose paths had diverged from his own for a time. At times Tramin he found particularly pleasing would begin to diverge from his path and though he tried to hold tight to them it is impossible to keep another from walking the path they follow. The loss of his favorites always stung. The comfort of their touch was impossible to replace though other Tramin came and went. Yet he always hoped that their paths would again come together so he might once again walk with them.

Hi Tramin I thought I might stop by, say hi, stuff like that. I would have continued with the out loud editorial work but I felt things were growing a little overlong and tedious.

Regardless! I hope everyone is well and happy

-Joat

(Endless list of titles listed here)

Sweet: I'm sure I've misinterepted you equally as often if not more. You have my apologies as well.

 

*nods to Akallabeth

 

Reasons I come to the Pen:

 

-First and foremost Joat invited me. Unfortunately, I didn't take him up on the offer 'till about a year later, and to my surprise Joat seemed to fallen off the face of the earth.

Fallen implies accident. I knew what I was doing when I purposefully lept off the shoulder of the earth (common misconception, it was the shoulder not the face).

As for what I would like.... How about more pie? Everyone loves pie. Maybe there should just be a big picture of pie to make everyone feel better. Or a link to a pie delivery website. I'm also told that I should "knock everyone's socks off" so I'd like it if that could happen as well please.

OOC: I've recently started on a rather ambitious writing project and found that I've gotten a bit rusty. So while I devise characters and plot line and such for that project I'm putting together a few short stories to warm up. Brutal critism is appreciated (though as far as grammar and such, keep in mind I through this together in an hour. I didn't do any editing to it.) as I really need to get it together before starting on the big one. So here goes.

"It's odd what we can't see sometimes. Things that are right under our noses for our entire lives that never even trigger an alarm. As open minded as we all may thing we are, we mindlessly accept so much. I was walking out of the store the other day and I thought to myself, is my car really so much dirtier than everyone else’s or am I just looking harder at mine than theirs? Then you start to notice things. You notice everyone's car but yours kind of fades into your peripheral vision unless you really try consciously to look at them. It got me thinking about what else I'm just accepting. I guess that's how it started." Greg looked up at the doctor. "Listen Doc, I'm really not crazy. I know what I'm doing. I know you're just trying to protect me. I know my family is trying to protect me. But I'm begging you," Greg nodded to the IV drip, "don't put that thing in me. I don't need it anymore. I'm off of it ya see?"

"It's for your own good Greg. You'll die if we don't help you." The doctor said with his patented calming smile. "Besides, if what you say is true then can't you just do it again?"

"I don't know Doc. It's like quitting cocaine and cigarettes and alcohol and every addiction and bad habit you've ever had at once. I don't know how I'd manage to get the will up to do it again, much less the means to try after you've kept me in this crazy house. Stopping feels like you're dying Doc. You and everyone else knows that. Could I make the pill again? Sure, it's easy enough. But no one is going to let me alone long enough to get it out of my system again. Not after this. Maybe I am crazy. But if I'm not... This could save countless lives Doc. It could progress mankind like no other discovery since the computer. We'd finally be FREE Doc. Free of what's held us back since the beginning of time. You've got to find out. You've got to let me find out."

"I'm sorry Greg, I don't need to find out. You're half dead now, and I can't let you do what you want knowing what would happen to you. I'm sorry." The Doctor reached out for the IV.

"Please Doc," Greg said on the edge of tears, "Please don't put that back in me. God, please. You don't know what it's like to be off it. Please, I think better, I feel better. Please, I know the withdrawal symptoms look bad, but I'm over the worse of it now, just let me finish. I'm begging you."

"I'm sorry Greg, you'll feel better in the morning I assure you." The Doctor snapped the IV into place and started the drip.

"No Doc...Please..." Greg's eyes glassed over as a sigh escaped his mouth.

The Doctor watched for a moment as Greg slid into a catatonic state. Smiling gently he quietly left the room. Greg was left alone with the quiet drip-drip of the IV feeding the drug into his veins.

"How's he going to be Doctor?" A worried woman, perhaps his wife, asked as soon as the Doctor emerged from the room.

"Oh he'll be fine. We started him on an IV. He should be as good as gold by morning. You're really going to need to get him some specialized mental treatment though. He's incredibly deep in his delusion. When I hooked him up to the IV he reacted exactly as if I really was giving him a strong tranquilizer."

"I just can't understand why this happened. He's always been such a stable intelligent man. Then one day he just goes crazy? I don't understand what caused it." She said ringing her hands.

"I'm really not qualified to say, sometimes these things just seem to happen. I'm going to transfer him over to Bellridge in the morning. They're more adapted to this sort of thing. I'm sure they can figure it out." The Doctor sighed, "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I just don't understand. I don't understand. It's going to kill the kids knowing their father is in a mental hospital." She looked at The Doctor pleadingly, "Is there anything we can do to have him come home tomorrow?"

"No. No, I'm afraid not. He's too dangerous to himself now. He needs help." The Doctor took her arm, "You need to go home. He'll be fine and you need some rest. Tomorrow will be busy."

"Yes, of course Doctor. Thank you, by the way. You've been so kind through all this."

He smiled his calming-everything-will-be-ok smile. "Don't worry, things will be better tomorrow." He escorted her to the door and watched her go. "They get weirder every day." he muttered under his breath as he took the next chart off the wall. "What I wouldn't give for a good old fashioned stabbing."

..............

She arrived home late. The kids had already been in bed when she left. She'd made sure of that. She couldn't worry the kids, but what was she going to tell them? Oh god, what a mess.

She wandered into his study and ran her hand over his things. What had he done in here that had driven him over the edge? Her eyes fell on some hastily scribbled notes.

"The evidence is unmistakable" she read, "What we have thought all this time to be necessary to life is nothing more than the single most addictive substance on earth. The parallels to more conventional addictions is unmistakable. Points as follows.

A) A psychological "need" for the substance, A.K.A. thirst exactly parallels other drugs addictions.

Withdrawal symptoms when the drug is not administered grow progressively worse until the body eventually shuts down causing inevitable death.

C) In the event that the body tries to get rid of the substance through sweat or excretion the desire for more grows more intense the more that is lost. Sweat seems to require heat as a catalyst. Excretion seems in most cases a zero sum gain.

D) Addiction, like other addictions, is clearly passed on from parent to child during pregnancy.

E) Experimentation impossible until a way is devised to wean full grown adult off of substance."

Her eyes passed to another paper atop the pile on his desk.

"The pill succeeded in weaning adult rat off water. Rat experienced extreme withdrawal symptoms during first week but thereafter recovered. Seems in perfectly good health without water as of day twenty. Next step human experimentation. I shall have to use myself as a test subject."

A noise in the corner caught her attention. A Rat in a dirty rat cage. It hadn't been cleaned for days. She'd have to take care of it in the morning. Just one more thing to worry about. God, why was this happening to her family.

In the morning Greg was taken to Bellridge. One month to the day later he was released free of his delusion. He went about his life as normal and his family settled back into place. The rat remained in the cage. No one cleaned up after it or gave it water. It didn't seem to care.

Fifty Years Later

"I can't hold him doctor! He's too strong!"

"Damn it nurse! Just hold his leg still!"

A pressure. A hiss of a stickpac releasing into the muscle. A sigh of contentment as the tranquilizer took effect.

"I'll never know what drives them." The nurse muttered, "Who'd consciously try and destroy their body like this?"

"Remember nurse, we were all once like this. Although knowing what we know now I don't know why any pick up the water habit again. Still, we got a long way having our entire populace drinking that stuff every day."

The nurse laughed, "A long way for a drug addict maybe. We've come so much farther now."

"Perhaps so, get him the standard treatment. No water for two weeks, treat withdrawal as it occurs."

"Yes Doctor."

-Joat

The people who called in tonight = Cooler than me. Waaayyy cooler

Crazy Earl's Knife Emporium Advertisement for Heralds and Crappy Bards

Dragon's Keep

Wyvern's Nest

If you want knives

I've got the best!

I've got swords

Got staves and bows

Pick up a mace

Before you go

Choose what you like

It's all on sale

We've all got one

We'd like impaled

So come on down

To crazy Earl's

Slay a knight!

Win a girl!

And the a bit more serious...

Tick-Tock Man

The Tick-Tock Man

is always precise

is always punctual

us always ON TIME

The Tick-Tock Man

Never stops

Is always go-go-going

Never thought different

The Tick-Tock Man

is too heavily scheduled for happiness

can't make time for love

is too hurried for friendship

It's funny how he can be on time

but he still can't get out from under it

Hi

Bleh, I'm proud of my weenie! It's a mighty mighty thing.

Just a few fun poems I hope brighten your day. I read Silverstein's Falling Up the other day if you can't tell

King of the Monsters

Oh what a sight

The only thing worse

Than his left is his right!

His hair is a tangle

His eyes are bloodshot

Dare I approach him?

I better had not

His breath could kill forests

His eyes could shoot flame

Don't go out there!

I'm sorry we came...

King of the monsters

What a sight to see

But I guess that's my father

without his coffee

------------------------------

This one is rather awful, but well, it's hard to use this device and not make something awful

There is a bird

That never does fall

So balanced is he

They call him Macaw

And of all the birds

He is the most lawful

But god his singing

Is really Macawful

But yet his plummage

Is fair as a blossom

His feathers are bright

It's really Macawesome

And he's got a deal

If you are a cougher

A tonic to cure ya

Just make a Macawffer

He's sat up there

for days and days

I think he'll stay

for Macawlways

As I begin to think of many things

Of words we've lost

Of time we 've missed

Of things passed by

------------------------------While we were apart

I dream of what might have been

Had I said

Had I told you

Had you known

------------------------------I love you

But I never said

I want

I need

I love

-----------------------------You

It's too late now

For love to grow

Farewell my heart

I let you go...

New Line- "Slipstream falling"

Library Perils

Two magnetic monoliths

Guarded, strong, and cold

A place of treasures far beyond

The meager price of gold

Past the desk of miseries

Beyond the files loom

A horror of untold despair

Our hero’s met his doom

But down the stairs of hope he sprung!

He raced, that vital child!

Faster than a horror’s run

He ran into the wild

He fought the Frumious Bandersnatch

The vorpal sword he drew

He snicker-snacked and made it back

He even tamed the shrew

To Camelot he rode by night

To Xanadu by day

He stayed with Alice just a week

Then off with Frost till May

And slowly time lost meaning there

His cares began to fade

Our boy became a part of now

This world that he had made

Betwixt the shelves of memory

And on the dreamer’s plane

We lost our boy, that gentle soul

Never seen again

Mmmm... I may piddle around for a bit. Depends entirely on how busy I do or do not get. Repaged marked the site on my laptop after repaving it though ;P

-Joat

Hey Rev

Seph says Hi ;P

I'm already guild tagged, but I could perhaps lend a helping hand now and then discreetly. Assuming I can learn to play nether :X

Find me on IRC if you need anything, Joat116 as usual.

As I sometimes do I decided to come floating by and see how everything was going. As I usually am I was once again hit square in the face with a flood of fond rememberances.

I simply felt the need to extend my appreciation to those who work so hard to preserve what is not only an outstanding writing community, but an archive of much of my past as well. To all the writers, my thanks as well for giving me a reason to come back and check up on all of you time and again. My congratulations as well for having the courage to risk critisism by posting anything at all.

Thank you all once again for keeping this special place going.

-Joat

"Frogs... ASSEMBLE. FORWARD MARCH!"

The Frogs come hopping eight by nine

Hurrah!

Hurrah!

The frogs came hopping line by line

HURRAH!

HURRAH!

They held in mouths, gaping wide

Tiny swords with cyanide

and the frogs came hopping on

"What's that noise?"

"What noise?"

"That noise!"

"The hopping noise?"

"Well if you mean the noise I mean I suppose so..."

"Sounds like frogs to me."

"How do you know?"

"Because there's a tidal wave of frogs with swords in their mouths behind you."

Sacraficial character_01 turns quickly... but not quickly enough to be swept along with Joat's swarm of frogs.

"Man.... Joat's plagues are so much cooler than any other Demigod's"

Joat saunters, nay struts up to the gate. "Table for one human and eighteen thousand five hundred and eighty six frogs please."

"Name sir?" The rather comely gate wench asked delucently?

"Joat! Demigod of Insanity! Make way lest I smark your arbek into Despli!"

"Mmmmm, yes sir. I'm afraid I don't have you on the list, could it be under another name?"

Joat blinks twice. "Ahhhh yes, perhaps Boaz? You see, Boaz is my middle name..."

"Boaz is standing over there sir." the wench replied unsmilingly.

"So he is... Perhaps the name was under...Prince... as in charming?" Joat smiled slyly as he slipped a frog onto the wench's clipboard. "Letting one man pass is a small price to pay for your very own genuine frog prince don't you think?"

"No sir."

"Ah well then...What if I had the best present in the entire party?"

The wench wavered for a moment and then nodded to herself, "I suppose I could let you in then sir. But it would have to be quite a special present."

"Well, I'll have you know, I happen to have the one, the only, the fantastic... MAGIC STATIC SOCK FIELD! That's right, it's an undergarment, it's invisible, it slices, dices, levitates, gyrates, speculates, conjugates, reperates, teselates, and peturber...ates! It can't be beaten, stopped or topped when it comes to covering feet while leaving them uncovered!"

"Sir... you want me to let you in because you have an invisible, intangible, undetectable-by-any-means-what-so-ever present? Sir, you were better off offering me the frog."

Joat sighs. "Well than I suppose you leave me no choice. I'll just have to talk to your shift manager who's coming up behind you."

As the comely wench glances behind her Joat transforms himself into just one more frog in a sea of thousands.

"FROGS CHARGE! Errrr... FROGS HOP!"

As the sea of frogs breaks over the wench Joat casts an illusion link spell, causing the frogs forms to be linked to his own. Then deftly moving his left leg thus, and then back, then back in, and then shaking it all about before doing the "Hokey-Pokey" as the ancients called it he casts another illusion putting himself... and a few thousand frogs back into the form of Joat.

As confusion ensues Joat charges through the gate with the rest of the frog/Joats and drops his static field socks in the gift bin.

"She was a worthy opponent, but hardly a match for one such as I!"

"GET BACK HERE YOU GATE CRASHER!"

Joat spins around suddenly only to see the gate wench charging after him. "uh oh.... YOINK!"

Exit stage left.