Jammeez

I wrote this and sent it to Patrick when I thought I might die, along with a couple of possible endings. It makes a nice alternate death scene... Jammilla Manquin sat in trance again, waiting for the spice Melange to take it's effect. There was no turning back, now, and she didn't see any alternative. They were all going to die if the Harkonnen hidden among them was not found. There it is! Ah, the Spice opens my mind... Jammilla felt the unfamiliar floating sensation. So this was what it was like! She steeled herself for what was to come, though, knowing it would be nearly unbearable, and she must overcome! Another presence emerged. A horrible, violent presence - no...TWO! Jammilla had a fleeting sense of dread - attempted the Voice to manipulate their wills and defend herself from certain destruction. It should work, with the magnification of her skill by Melange, but that same catalyst was beginning to pound in her temples, crossing the threshold into real pain, and she was suddenly fighting on more than one battlefront. The Spice threatened to overwhelm her, and the Evil threatened to end her Agony. And it was all she could do to keep from begging for sweet oblivion! Then, dreamlike, Jammilla was floating free, and watched with detached interest as her body convulsed and those standing over her added insult to injury, slashing and hacking at her helpless form. She vaguely wondered how she could have underestimated that silly girl...

Jammilla listened disdainfully to the Fremen ranting at her. Chakyaka's verbal assault was outrageous and irrational, so fraught with emotion... she supposed it was understandable, for someone with no training. ...and it only confirmed her own suspicions about the girl. Jammilla now believed that Fleur may have had some training as well. Someone with her sensitivity to the unseen was unlikely to have been passed over by the Bene for this long. At least not without some kind of protection... Harkonnen protection? It was so unexpected that she had to give the idea merit. And that only left the question of Chakyaka's seemingly sudden and forceful loyalty to the girl. Either there was some manipulation on the girl's part, or the Fremen was not what he seemed. Either they had no prior connection, and the girl was clouding his mind, or they were in league and had met here by design. Even if they had never set eyes upon one another before, there could have been some prearranged signal allowing them to recognize each other. No matter how Jammilla looked at the situation, logic kept returning to Fleur. There was simply no room for any other conclusion. OOC: Vote stays.

OOC: Vote for Sweet Cherrie/Fleur Sorry I can't write more here. But we've got to get to bed so we can get on the road early.

Let's get this thing on the road! I'm leaving for Denver in a few hours, and I'm willing to start the voting. Whatever happens, I may or may not be on until after it's all over. Patrick, you know what to do, as you've got my idea for a death scene. Just use it/change it/discard it as needed! Game On! ~Jamz

When the silly girl came in, ranting about a ghost, Jammilla was forced to reappraise her judgement of Fleur. She still believed the girl had not a brain in her head...or rather, she refused to use it. But the sense to feel - and identify - a spirit was clearly a worthy talent. Jammilla turned away, filing the information away for future reference. It was laughable how obvious the girl was about her jealousy. Really, Jammilla thought, if I wanted the Fremen, I would have him. And there would be no pussy-footing around. But that sort of liason is no part of my mission here. Jammilla set her mind to the puzzle once more. Again, Jammilla cursed her own lack of training. It seemed even the Fremen woman was further along than she. But one of them may well have to endure the Spice Agony soon, however prematurely, in order to get to the bottom of this mystery... OOC: Vote for...I must deliberate... Edit: Sorry Dean. Vote for Ibis, the sword master...where has he been, anyway? Who knows anything about him? He could be Harkonnen...

OOC: Dang! Missed it by that much!

OOC: It's been almost 24 hours and only two posts with no votes... Shall I start the bidding? Jammilla sat with legs akimbo, back straight, eyes closed. Certainly study of the situation would bring clarity and show her who was the "wolf" among them. They all may as well have been sheep, trapped as they were in this stony prison. She began to feel the yearning for home again, but quickly quashed the emotion. There is no room for emotion in reason. Emotion leads only to confusion. Fact is the only tool with which to discover Truth... Jammilla forced her mind through the litany and returned to her deliberation. OOC: Random vote, Vene/Edi (rolled 7 on a d9 at RPoL.net, Comedy, J*O*K*E)

Still only 9 players, correct? Did HappyB ever get a character?

Jammilla could sense the unease in the girl beside her, as well as the fading life force of the poor fellow for whom they labored. She knew he would be dead soon - she was unsure why they had even carried him to this cave, for his weight had slowed their progress just enough to lose them another group member...Selton had been his name. She ran through a learning litany in the back of her consciousness to impress it upon her memory. In less time than anticipated, the life of the wounded slipped into the beyond, and with a bow of her head Jammilla rose smoothly to seek Captain Algers. "Captain..." She waited patiently for him to acknowledge her. "The man is dead", she murmured matter-of-factly. Captain Algers nodded, and Jammilla retreated again. Upon her return she found the girl and the body gone. What?...where are they? Jammilla allowed a bit of mild surprise to show in her expression...then chided herself for foolishly relaxing her discipline among so many strangers.

How's this for a tiny intro? Jammilla Manquin steps like a shadow from the pristine coolness of the SG transport into the dusty heat of the teeming city, her hand seeking the edge of a black scarf which she secures across her face against the gritty wind...

*sigh* That's seven, which is minimum. How long you going to give it, Patrick? I'll be out-of-town - though probably able to check in briefly each day - over the President's Day weekend, Feb 16-19th. OTOH, I'm still researching/refreshing my memory.

That's six...any more takers?? Come on! http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif um...anybody...?

I wasn't going to play again, but I just might have to for this theme. I read the first book in junior high (probably 9th grade/14-yrs-old) and was fascinated with the old movie, although it was very trippy. Matrix: Reloaded's big cavern scene reminded me of the big cavern in Dune. I'll refresh my memory and be back with a character...probably a Bene Gesserit witch... ~Jamz

Granny Jammeez...er...Miss Jammeez, anyway - for she is young and beautiful again - stands tall and straight with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting for Nathaniel when he arrives. In life, he'd only seen a small illumination of his grandmother when she was young, but now as they stand side by side, they might as well be brother and sister, and he of course remembers her from before... "So, now you know, Nathan." "Yes, Grandmother. Although I'm very surprised...in both cases, I must admit." "Heh, well your grandfather wasn't alone 40 years ago, and there's certainly been children since. You know, the only thing that kept my dear Itchy alive for those last ten years was my discovery of the bane. I would put it in his tea. It kept him harmless at night and saved him from years of guilt. His fellow wolf wasn't so lucky, you might remember. They lynched him, you know." "Yes Grandma, I remember the stories. It's the real reason why Mum and Dad took me away, isn't it?" "Clever boy. Yes, I suppose it is. *sigh* I still wish you'd settled down and given me some more grandchildren before I died." "Heh, well...oh, now I sound like you!" Nathaniel winked at the young woman next to him. She just smirked back. "You'd never have gotten me in your clutches, my dear. I suppose I'll have to haunt that old mansion, now, if I ever want to read all those books... Where'd I leave that notebook of mine?" Nathaniel wanders off and Jammeez watches him with a bemused look, then fades out herself. She has to track down that beastly husband of hers again... ~Jamz

Ack!

OOC: vote Susan/Mynx (see OOC thread for explanation)

Fine with me, Tanny. Sounds like a fun read! Anyone else going to vote? Time is getting short... Edit: Well, unless Leif changes his vote, I'll just roll a die to pick a target... I'll roll on RPoL.net, in case anyone with access over there wishes to witness it. Go to Comedy Games > J*O*K*E. I am GMeez. (you'll have to ask for access) That is Susan, I believe. Sorry, Mynx

“That Karen would be really good for Tsal, but... what? Why are you crying, Dear?” No way in the world Annie would show her tears to anybody, but now she couldn’t hold them back. She was only a child, and all this had upset her more than she would admit. Granny moved around the table and patted the child's shoulder. "My, my...let it all out child...hea'en knows ye've got reason...there, there..." Granny continued to comfort the girl as much as the girl would let her... OOC: Not yet...

Marching the young Annie across the square, Granny Jammeez' hand on her shoulder was gentle but firm as iron, brooking no argument. Her other hand gripped her cane tightly. It certainly would not do for the girl to see that body...although Jammeez was a bit puzzled about the means of death. She wracked her brain for memories of years ago. How had the pattern gone? Annie was watching her out of the corner of her eye. Granny gave her a kind smile and bade the girl sit at the table as they entered the cottage. "I'll get you a cup, dear. Why don't you tell me what you wanted to see this morning." The girl was silent at first, odd in itself, but as Granny passed her a cup of steaming chocolate, she spoke. "I wanted to see what a dead person looks like. I've never seen one... And I'm not a baby!" "Of course not, Dear! And soon, you will look back on what you've seen and perhaps wish there wasn't so much of it!" Granny winked. Annie scowled. Why did the woman say things that Annie didn't understand? It made no sense. Annie didn't think you could ever see or know too much... The girl's thoughts returned to that book of Nathaniel's. "Granny..." The girl hesitated, and Granny Jammeez smiled encouragingly. "What is it?" "I've been curious about Mr. Churnstone. Why did he come here? Why does he live in the haunted house? Is he really...? um...He really can't hear?" "Ah, child. You have come to the right person!" Granny chuckled an old woman's chuckle. "Did you not know, he is my grandson! Yes! I see you are surprised. I had a husband and children, and I have grandchildren and several great-grandchildren...and even some great-great-grandchildren...hee-hee. They'd be about your age, dear!" Granny's eyes sparkled. "Mr. Churnstone was born in this village, but my daughter, Meredith left with her husband soon after, so he could find work. Apparently they did quite well, for Nathaniel has returned with a bit of means to support himself. I do wish the boy would spare a moment from his books to find a girl and settle down, though. It would be so nice to have little ones close to me before I die." Granny's voice trailed off as her eyes took on a far-away look...again! Annie found the ancient woman's habit a bit annoying. OOC: Vote in a bit...

As well as village Matchmaker, Granny Jammeez is a mother and grandmother...and great grandmother. There is room for familial relationships to be established. Who wants to be my grandchild? hint: Granny is in her 90s and married at 15. She was married for 50 years before her husband died.

Granny listens quietly to the young man's news. He had, of course, come to clear her path of the heavy snowfall, and brought the tale of Mark's violent slaughter with him. "The Sheriff and the Blacksmith say it must be Mr. Fernsworth, as he's an outsider, but I dunno about that. It ain't like he's the newest one in town..." "Aye, my boy, but everyone was once new somewhere. We can't go rashly accusing folks because we don't know 'em." "You think it could be someone we've known, then? Someone who's been here for awhile?" The old woman is silent for a long moment, her sharp eyes unfocused with internal thoughts. "I think it highly likely, son. Yes...yes, I do." With puzzlement and more than a little worry in his face, the young man returns to his shovel. And Granny pours herself a cup of hot tea to warm her bones. The past haunts her mind; the faces of her old contemporaries - her sisters and brother, her friends and her beloved Itchy. Near 40 years it had been since the last killing. But the village had been plagued for years before that. What could have brought the terror back? Thank goodness the deaths had stopped long before her Gnarlitch had passed, for there were those who had thought he was to blame. Jammeez' own siblings had been his main accusers after the loss of their baby sister Elwen. Tears well and spill over the old woman's lashes at the memories. Well, they were all gone now, so who could be carrying on the murderous tradition? OOC: vote for...Adam/Giles Jordan

Granny watches John cross to the smithy, and sees Tsal emerge from his tree and head in the same direction... Lillen hurries up the street and Annie kicks her feet in the snow... The little one has got a temper, she has. Granny sighs and pulls her shawl up over her head, and shuffles to the door. "Annie-girl, hello, Dear!" Granny waves as she makes her way down the path to the road. She had begun to take for granted the young man who shoveled the snow for her, he always came so early and left without a word. But, Jammeez didn't know what she would do without him, bless his heart. She leaned on her cane while the girl came closer...

From her window, Granny Jammeez has a good view of most of the village. She likes it that way. Her house sits almost dead center of the "old" village, which is comprised mostly of the village square; the smithy, the tavern, the mercantile, the school... Granny remembers when that's all there was to the village...that and a few other cottages...families who had dwelt in this valley for generations. Ozy, Tangy, Dean, her beloved sisters Elwen and Celes... Now she's the only one. Even Itchy, her sweet husband of fifty years, had passed on and left her a widow - to fill her time with living through others' loves and lives...

Heh, well I'm glad someone told me about the Weenie thing. I was sure Gnarlitch had played a trick on me. When I saw it in my profile, I edited it out myself.

Thanks, Sweet. I had fun here a couple years ago, but haven't been involved in a WW game for a long time. I used to play it like mad on the K&C boards. Not to brag...I was one of the first to make it a story with characters and prose...more than just a game of pointing fingers. Wish they hadn't purged the old games over there. There were some very kewl stories! Gnarlitch says he might pop in...we'll see. Don't hold your breath.