Principia Discordia

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"Herbal?! You gave me herbal?" Arthur spit out his tea, and gave his valet the evil eye. "What is the meaning of this, Carruthers? Are you trying to kill me?"
Carruthers cleared his throat, giving the impression that he thought very little of Arthur's hissy fit indeed. "Yes, sir. I'm afraid we are all out of your regular tea." "By Jove, Carruthers, out of tea? But why didn't you just stroll over to the shop?" Arthur said, eyeballing his manservant with malice aforethought.
"I did to the shop, sir. They were sold out. The manager said hat they hadn't received any tea for weeks. When I returned, I called a colleague of mine to borrow some tea, a task I found most embarrassing, sir. However, the story was the same there. It seems that there's no proper tea to be had in the entire area of Greater London. My apologies, sir."
Arthur fell silent for a bit. He brooded with a passion. This was a crisis! A disaster of epic proportions! Arthur needed, no, craved his tea. He would sell his own grandmother for a cup. Well, he'd sell your grandmother. He let out a deep sigh, deflating like an old zeppelin.
"This is dire news, Carruthers. I need my tea. And herbal just won't do. No right-thinking man drinks herbal. Say, you haven't happened to read anything about it in the papers, or heard something on the radio?"
"I'm afraid not, sir. I find it very mysterious, to be honest." The manservant looked nonplussed, or at least not as plussed as usual. This troubled Arthur. Carruthers were his intellectual superior in almost every aspect, and he secretly wondered if God had the intention of turning his life into a Wodehouse novel. He hoped not.
Arthur brooded a bit more. Then, he got a determined look on his face, stood up and walked towards the front door.
"I must investigate, Carruthers. This tealessness can't continue. I shall comb every tea shop in London! "
"Very well, sir. If sir doesn't mind, I will telephone my colleagues to see if I can find out some more," Carruthers said.
"Very good, Carruthers, get right on that!"

Arthur hated using public transport, but he didn't dare drive his care in his current state. Besides, driving in London was a hassle at the best of times. As the metro noisily took him to Oxford Street, he daydreamed about doing 90mph down it in his '37 Cord 812.
The metro stopped, and he got off, almost running to the nearest tea shop. As he entered it, he noticed a distinct lack of items on the shelves. There were plenty accessories and postcards, but very little tea. Arthur asked the proprietor about this.
"I'm afraid I don't have any answers. I haven't been able to find fresh tea for weeks. The only teas I have left are herbals."
Arthur shuddered. "But, why has this happened? And why haven't the news reported on it?"
"It's baffling, isn't it? But I know as little as you, I'm afraid."
Arthur thanked the proprietor and left.

He spent the rest of the day visiting all the stores he could find, all had the same story to report, and nobody knew why. Defeated, Arthur went home. The valet had no news, as his manservant colleagues knew nothing either.

That night, Arthur wept himself to sleep, and dreamt of horrible things.

Hm, an intriguing start! No tea in London?

Thanks!

No tea, indeed.

This seems like it will be a silly story.  I like it so far!

Seems so, doesn't it? Thanks!

I can hear my British buddies wailing in anguish at the very thought. I can't wait to see what happens next!

Excited !

Do I need to go read some Wodehouse novels?

No tea? Bloody hell!

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 03, 2013, 01:20:52 AM
I can hear my British buddies wailing in anguish at the very thought. I can't wait to see what happens next!

Haha, mine, too!

Quote from: Golden Applesauce on June 03, 2013, 02:45:32 AM
Excited !

Do I need to go read some Wodehouse novels?

I think you should, but that's only because I'm a huge fan.  :D

Quote from: stelz on June 03, 2013, 05:18:31 AM
No tea? Bloody hell!

There's herbal, though. Eww.  :lulz:



Hopefully I'll have another chapter up today.

Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on June 03, 2013, 11:47:54 AM

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 03, 2013, 01:20:52 AM
I can hear my British buddies wailing in anguish at the very thought. I can't wait to see what happens next!

Haha, mine, too!

Quote from: Golden Applesauce on June 03, 2013, 02:45:32 AM
Excited !

Do I need to go read some Wodehouse novels?

I think you should, but that's only because I'm a huge fan.  :D

Quote from: stelz on June 03, 2013, 05:18:31 AM
No tea? Bloody hell!

There's herbal, though. Eww.  :lulz:



Hopefully I'll have another chapter up today.

If we want to get super technical, there isn't, in fact, any tea. Herbal 'teas' are actually tisanes. The only proper 'tea' is the stuff that actually contains actual tea leaves.

:banana:

Aren't tea leaves a kind of herb, though?

Quote from: Golden Applesauce on June 03, 2013, 08:36:52 PM
Aren't tea leaves a kind of herb, though?

Yes. They are the leaf (herb) of the tea bush, Camellia Sinensis. "Herbal tea" is a misnomer. What CPD said is accurate, which is that other infusions are, properly, not teas, but tisanes.

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 03, 2013, 03:17:01 PM

Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on June 03, 2013, 11:47:54 AM

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 03, 2013, 01:20:52 AM
I can hear my British buddies wailing in anguish at the very thought. I can't wait to see what happens next!

Haha, mine, too!

Quote from: Golden Applesauce on June 03, 2013, 02:45:32 AM
Excited !

Do I need to go read some Wodehouse novels?

I think you should, but that's only because I'm a huge fan.  :D

Quote from: stelz on June 03, 2013, 05:18:31 AM
No tea? Bloody hell!

There's herbal, though. Eww.  :lulz:



Hopefully I'll have another chapter up today.

If we want to get super technical, there isn't, in fact, any tea. Herbal 'teas' are actually tisanes. The only proper 'tea' is the stuff that actually contains actual tea leaves.

By Jove! He's a man of distinction!

CPD and Nigel, thanks! I'm going to use the shit out of those facts!  :lulz:

Also, new chapter will be finished today.

Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on June 04, 2013, 03:54:09 PM
Also, new chapter will be finished today.

*has an ooh shiny*

(https://i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/7534784256/h1E3492C3/)

Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on June 05, 2013, 12:07:21 AM
(https://i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/7534784256/h1E3492C3/)

(http://www.1capecoral.com/images/FBlike.jpg)

Arthur woke up sweating profusely, his heart pounding a Bavarian polka in his chest. He had only faint recollections of his dreams, but the faces of inhuman things lingered.
He got up and went to the bathroom wondering what the robed giant wanted.
In the kitchen, Carruthers had prepared a steaming hot cup of coffee. Arthur thanked his valet, and quietly started preparing for a life without tea.
Wen he was halfway through his second cup of coffee, he suddenly stood up, knocking over the chair he'd sat on.
"By God, Carruthers, I think the lack of tea has dulled my senses! Why don't I search the Internet for clues about this predicament?"
Carruthers raised a bushy eyebrow slightly, and picked up the chair.
"The Internet should provide some answers, sir. I am sorry I didn't think of that myself."
"Not to worry, Carruthers. It can happen to the best of us."

Arthur sat down in front of his computer, typing his query with one finger. He had never gotten the hang of the computer world, his expertise was in the area of drinking and smoking.
He searched for "tea shortage in London" on google, and started looking through the results. There was nothing. None of the newspapers said anything about it, not even the tabloids.
"How queer! Carruthers, what do you make of this?"
The valet besides Arthur, like a ghost at midnight.
"I'm afraid this has me as baffled as you, sir. I couldn't possibly venture to make a guess at this time. However, if I may be so bold as to suggest something,
you could take a look at the websites of the tea import companies. There might be something there."
"Brilliant idea, Carruthers! I shall do that at once. Fetch me a snifter of the good stuff, will you? I need a strengthening libation."
"Certainly sir", Carruthers said, and hovered towards the library, looking for all intents and purposes like he had tiny wheels under his Italian shoes.
Arthur started looking at the sites, starting with PG Tips. Nothing. Not a word. Same at Lipton. He took a sip of the whisky,
which his manservant had noiselessly placed at his right hand and vanished like a vampire at dawn in summertime.
His search yielded nothing. He decided to check me last site, a small company based in Yorkshire. He typed in the address.
The screen flashed like a 70's disco for a few seconds, then words started to appear.


The screen went black, and then the site was automatically redirected back to google.
Arthur shook his head, sniggered a bit, and shut down his computer. 'bloody wankers' he thought, 'bloody, bloody wankers'.

Arthur sat in the back seat of his Cord with a flask of whisky in his hand. Carruthers was driving him to his favorite pub, the Horse and Feathers.
His only solution to the tea problem, in his mind was to get utterly and completely smashed. The stuff in his flask was starting to give results, and Arthur was humming old Boy George tunes.

At the pub, none of his regular drinking friends were present. The place was almost completely empty, other than a group of old men at a corner table.
They looked like fishermen. Arthur sat down at the bar, motioning for the barkeep.
"Tally-ho, Hollingberry! Give me a double Glenfiddich,  my good man."
"Righty, guv'nor" the barkeep said.
"Say, Hollingberry, have you heard anything about the tea shortage?"
Hollingberry was a kindly old man with a huge moustache, who had worked at the Horse and Feathers for as long as Arthur could remember,
and he was always affable, always had a kind word for his patrons, however smashed and unruly they were.
"Arthur, you know I don't have any tea here. I pride myself on having nothing lighter than strong ales in this establishment."
"I know, I know," said Arthur. "But perhaps you've heard rumors?"
"There's been some talk, but it seems nobody knows anything. Yesterday, some bloody loon whom I'd never seen before, came in,
got drunk and started talking about it being a conspiracy, and that the government has silenced any attempt to report it in the media. But you know how it is with those fellows.
Everything's a government cover up according to them."
Arthur nodded, and drained his glass. Hollingberry, knowing Arthur's habits, promptly topped it off.

As the evening went on, much like evenings tend to do, the Horse and Feathers became crowded.
Arthur, now quite inebriated, sat with a few of his friends at a table in the middle of the room, shouting rude jokes at each other, as they were wont to do.
Arthur was wearing what he called his 'Miami Vice' suit (much to Carruthers' dismay. He sorely wished that his employer would show a little more refinement in his clothing),
and had gone from drinking whisky to consuming colourful drinks with umbrellas in them, because the drinks had to match the suit, he said.
The topic inevitably turned to the tea shortage, and the group's theories were many, one of them being that there had been massive fires in the major tea regions,
and it had been hushed down so as to not wreck the economy. Another, not quite as coherent theory, coming from Clive Ravensdale, a friend of Arthur's from Cambridge,
where Ravensdale had been studying physics at Cavendish. His theory was that it all was a fluke in the time/space continuum, and that all the world's tea had been shifted to another dimension. Ravensdale had gone slightly mad after his post-doctorate.

Some time after midnight, Arthur had to go to the men's room. As he stumbled in the door, he saw a lady standing in front of the mirror.
"Oh, 'scuse me," he said. "I must've taken a wrong turn at Albequerque."
"Not at all," the woman said. "I'm the one who's in the wrong bathroom, I'm afraid. All the ladies' stalls were taken, you see."
"No worries, miss," Arthur said. He tried to straighten his tie, and pulled a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. Hitting on a lady in the men's room. '
You've got real class, Arthur,' a voice whispered in his ear. He disregarded it, and when he tried to suavely walk towards the lady, he tripped in his own feet,
fell forward and hit the sink with his forehead. Blood was streaming down his face, and the woman just laughed, then left the bathroom, saying something
Arthur wasn't able to discern. After that, things got a little blurry. Actually, it became total black.

Arthur woke up with a hangover from hell. He was still wearing his clothes, which were stained with blood and what looked like kebab.
"Christ almighty! What the hell happened?" he sat up in his bed, and found that he was clutching a post-it note. On one side it said: Meet me at the Camden Stables, 6PM. Don't be late. Penny.
The other side said: U wot m8?

Arthur ran to the bathroom to vomit.

Nice!

I like this, so far.

I am fucking tickled by this!  I love it!  <3

Quote from: M. Nigel Salt on June 07, 2013, 06:04:47 AM
Nice!

I like this, so far.

Thank you, Nigel!

Quote from: Freeky Queen of DERP on June 07, 2013, 06:11:51 AM
I am fucking tickled by this!  I love it!  <3

Hooray! Thanks!

I haven't forgotten about this. New chapter will be up on monday at the latest.

I like the image of a proper British gentleman getting rowdy in a tavern in a 'Miami Vice' suit. That is hilarious.

[/b]

"Carruthers! Fetch the Jag, will you? I have a meeting at Camden  Stables in two hours."
"Really, sir? With whom are you meeting at that place?"
"I don't know, Carruthers. I woke up with a note in my hand. Talking of, did I manage to get into bed by my own last night"
Carruthers cleared his throat, his slight "ahem" saying more than Arthur needed to know.
"Alright, Carruthers. I shan't ask. Rest assured, the bonus is forthcoming."
"Thank you, sir," Carruthers said, elevating his left eyebrow a fraction of an inch, as he was won't to do when he was happy about something.
"Now, my good man. What should I wear for a meeting at the Stables with someone whom I do not even remember meeting?"
"Tweed, sir. Green. White shirt. Burgundy cravat. I'll go find it, before I start up the Jaguar."
Carruthers hovered out the door.


They drove in silence in to London, Arthur brooding in the back seat, and his manservant being his stoic self. Arthur was staring out the window, looking at people and graffiti on the house walls. Kids these days had some strange ideas, he thought, noticing some large, black graffiti pieces, among other a very well done dragon, and, further up the same street, the words, THEY ARE COMING.
Arthur closed his eyes, and started to fall asleep. As the dreams came, he heard a faint word,
"Excuse me sir

Not far behind the jaguar, IT followed. IT had chosen it's prey. This one was a good one, IT thought. IT almost felt sorry IT didn't have a body of his own, so he could smile an evil smile. IT was infatuated with what the humans called 'Good and Evil'. IT was, IT had decided, definitely Evil. IT urged it's current host to drive a bit faster. This is a weird one, IT thought, the mental language was different from the hosts IT was used to. The language had vague hints of something IT had heard before, many centuries ago. Oh well, IT thought, let's focus on the task at hand. IT prodded the human IT was inhabiting to get closer to the prey's car. If IT had had a mouth, it would have grinned like the love child of Charles Manson and Elizabeth Bathory at this point

something occurred to me just now, sir," the manservant said.  Arthur's eyes shot open like eyes do at the end of particularly bad horror films.
"Whu..what? How long was I asleep, Carruthers?"
"Sir?"
"I had this weird dream, Carruthers, just now. I dreamt that something was looking for me, using its mesmerizing voice to lure me to whatever it was," Arthur said. The valet looked puzzled. It also looked like he struggled with remembering how to look puzzled.
"Sir, you haven't slept at all. You closed your eyes as I started asking my question, and kept them close for one second, at most."
"What? How can this be, Carruthers? I'm quite sure I dreamt for some time. Am I going insane?" Arthur rubbed his temples, then reached in his pocket for a cigarette. Arthur didn't really smoke, but occasionally he bought a pack when drunk, to offer the ladies.
"Might as well have one," he said. "No tea, dreaming while awake. This cannot be reality." He lit his smoke, taking a deep drag, coughing only slightly.
"I'm sure you are not mad, sir," Carruthers said. "We will figure out what is happening soon enough." He stopped the car.
"We're here, sir. You must walk from this point, I'm afraid." Arthur opened the door.
"Thank you, Carruthers. I only hope she'll find me. The Stables are quite big."
"Ah, yes, that was what I was wondering as well, sir. I will be waiting here when you get back."

Arthur got out of the car.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eELH0ivexKA

Quote from: Pixie on June 27, 2013, 08:28:45 PM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eELH0ivexKA

Yup. That's where I got the title from.  8)

Less cliff-hanger, more story! :D

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 27, 2013, 10:06:52 PM
Less cliff-hanger, more story! :D

More story is in progress! :D

[/b]

Somewhere

Deep inside a mountain, a group of people were gathered, eight robed persons, faces hidden by the hoods. They talked in hushed tones. Behind the round table they sat around, was a large black symbol. It looked faintly alive. The hooded people stopped talking as something came out of the darkness beneath the symbol. It was a man, dressed in a papal outfit, complete with oversized hat. He was also wearing one of those white, expressionless masks that tend to freak a certain kind of people out. The eight rose from their seats, chanting "All hail the messenger of AnXi!"
The papal figured bowed slightly, pulled out his chair, and got his feet tangled up in the robe, falling forward, hitting his face on the table.
"Goddamnit, Carter!" one of the hooded men said. "Can't you do anything right?"
"Shut up, Jackson!" The papal Carter said, readjusting his robes, and putting his hat back on. He then sat down, and eyed the other eight as meaningfully as possible when wearing a white mask.
"All right. As we all know, He Who Controls The Dragon, Controls The World," he said, pronouncing the capital letters with care.
"We are very close to reaching our goal. For a thousand years we have worked toward this, our Organisation's Final Solution. We have carefully laid plans, thrown wrenches in gears, oiled the machinery, maintained the carburetors..."
"Stop it with these horrible similes, Carter! They sound incredibly dumb!" another of the eight said. "I swear to AnXi, who made you our leader anyway?"
Carter sighed loudly, tried rubbing his forehead, remembered he was wearing a mask, and started massaging his temples instead.
"You know full well that Tradition states than when the Pope dies, or is disposed of, the most senior member takes his place. It has been thus for a Thousand Years!"
"Fuck that shit. You're incompetent, and we, as a whole DEMAND you resign your post immediately!"
"What is this mutiny? The Mistress won't like this! You'll pay dearly for your lack of loyalty!"
The group all removed their hoods, revealing four men and four women. One of the women spoke.
"Shut it. You said it ourself just now, that Popes are disposed of when the need arises. We know our glorious history, and our loyalty lies with the Organisation and The Iron Goddess. You, however, are an incompetent nincompoop, and you have singlehandedly slowed down our work for the past decade. Our progress has been in spite of your leadership, not because of it. We have conferred with the Mistress, and She has given us carte blanche to dispose of you as we will, bring in a new ninth member, from the outer ranks, and elect a new pope among us, based on skill, leadership ability and, you know, helpful stuff.
We have, before this meeting, arranged your unfortunate demise. You, Carter, are hereby a dead man. We have also provided you with a new identity, in another country. You'll get enough money to eat for a few days, then you're completely on your own. Now, begone, up you useless bastard."
The other seven mutineers clapped and shouted "so it is done", and disrobed Pope Carter, pushing him out the door.
"Oh, and Carter?" Jackson said. "Remember, if you ever, EVER mention us to an outsider, the Mistress will make you regret that you were born. Or rather, regret that she was born."

"Now, let's get down to business, and get the wheels rolling properly!" Jackson said when Carter was gone.

 :lulz: Yeah Carter!! Jeez. My five-year-old niece is more menacing than you. :P

Great piece, Waffles. Ominous and hilarious, it's like a well balanced breakfast of evil!

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on June 29, 2013, 03:35:31 PM
:lulz: Yeah Carter!! Jeez. My five-year-old niece is more menacing than you. :P

Great piece, Waffles. Ominous and hilarious, it's like a well balanced breakfast of evil!

Thanks! Let's hope he doesn't show up later. Nothing is scarier than a stupid man scorned.

Arthur sat in the outside area of a pub in the Stables, hoping this Penny would find her soon. He had a pint of lager, half full, which he found very appropriate. He sniggered at himself, then drained the beer, got up and ordered a new one at the bar.

When he got back, a woman was sitting at his table, taking a smoke from his pack.
"Excuse me, miss? What are you doing?"
"Ah, Lord Swindleton-Arglebargle! Good to see you made it. I'm Penny. Please, sit down."
Arthur sat down, eyeballing Penny. She appeared to be in her thirties, reddish hair, intensely blue eyes. She was wearing a pinstripe blazer and skirt, and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone. She looked like a CEO. She also looked vaguely familiar.
"Miss Penny, I hate to be rude, but could you tell me why I had a note in my hand telling me to meet you here this morning? I only took the trip because I'm rather curious, I'm afraid."
"It'll become clear soon enough, Arthur. May I call you Arthur?"
"Yes, you may. And how soon is soon enough? I'm having a hard time coping with things, what with all the tea gone missing."
"Ahh. The tea. That's why we're here. The tea shortage is part of something very much bigger, a vast conspiracy to change the fate of mankind. And you can help thwart it, Arthur."
Arthur's jaw dropped like a bowling ball from a house top.
"Surely, you're pulling my leg? You're insane. Or, I'm insane for actually sitting here listening to you."
"Not at all," Penny said. "Come walk with me."

Arthur and Penny sat at a bench, smoking.
"So, what you are saying is that there is a hidden organisation that has existed for decades, working to control humanity, and they're using TEA as a means of control? Why tea? Who are they? And, most importantly, why the bloody hell should I believe you?" Arthur was exasperated. This was a bit too much. He didn't want to believe Penny, but he found himself doing just that.
"That is, indeed, what I'm saying, Arthur. I don't expect you to believe me right now. But tell me. Have you had any weird dreams lately? Involving monks and deserts?"
Arthur's jaw dropped, again. You could fit a decent sized apple in there.
"Whu..wha...huh..grbglglgbl...," Arthur said.
"I thought so. We have tracked you down for a reason, Arthur."
"...glblr," he replied.

IT watched the encounter with interest. This conspiracy sounded interesting. That may come in useful, IT thought.
IT edged closer. Nobody would pay a tourist any notice.

"Now, now, Arthur," Penny said. "This isn't some magic woowoo. You see, our scientists are experimenting with methods to track down people who can be of help in the fight against the Order, and I'm afraid dreams like that are an unfortunate side effect. I'd explain better but I'm not that kind of smart. Perhaps one day, one of our science guys can explain it to you in detail."
Arthur took a deep breath, stood up, and almost bumped into a bearded man walking past. Beardy apologized in broken English and hurried off.
"I...I...I need a drink. And another. This is a bit too much, I'm afraid."
Penny stood up as well, straightening her skirt as she did so.
"Your waistcoat is disheveled, Arthur," she said. Arthur quickly resheveled his tweed, and gave Penny one of those looks. You know the kind. Penny grinned wide. Unsettlingly wide.
"Have a drink, Arthur. Have ten. Come to grips with what I have told you. I will meet you tomorrow. At your house. Des 2 o'clock sound alright?"
"Uh.. Sure thing. I guess," Arthur said. "See you tomorrow, then."

Arthur got in the back seat of the car. Carruthers sat with his crossword. A New York Times Sunday crossword.
"Hello, sir," he said, not looking up.
"Carruthers, said Arthur.
"Take me home please. I'll tell you all about my fateful meeting, and perhaps you can give me advice. That brain of yours works wonders when mine is less sheveled than my suits on a Saturday night."
"Very well, sir."

QuoteArthur's jaw dropped, again. You could fit a decent sized apple in there.

LOL. So many great lines. This is coming along beautifully, Waffles.

Quote"Your waistcoat is disheveled, Arthur," she said. Arthur quickly resheveled his tweed, and gave Penny one of those looks. You know the kind. Penny grinned wide. Unsettlingly wide.

Love that whole thing. :D

 :lulz:
Thank you, CPD!
I'm having a whale of a time writing this!

Penny and Arthur sat in Arthur's garden, eating lunch, or in Arthur's case, breakfast. He drank himself to sleep the night before, downing a bottle of Bruichladdich, and half a bottle of port. The bad thing about that was that he was presently hung over like a teenager who has raided his father's liquor cabinet. The good thing was that he didn't have any weird dreams. Not that he could remember anyway.
Carruthers' advice the day before had been to just go along with Penny's "rather eccentric" ideas, as he had put it. It wasn't the advice Arthur had hoped his manservant's huge brain would come up with, but it seemed the most logical course of action.

"I have to say, Penny," Arthur said. "You don't do a very good job of making me understand what the hell is going on."
Penny sighed.
"I know Arthur. I know. I'm afraid I don't quite understand it myself. A least not in a way that is easily explainable. But I feel it, deep inside, that it must be true, if you can relate? Anyway, I'm sure they have their reasons for sending me to recruit you, even though I myself have been recruited only five weeks ago. What that reason is escapes me completely, though."
"Really, now? You seemed so confident yesterday."
Penny grinned. Arthur winced.
"I am confident, Arthur. And I know how to be convincing. I do really believe in the cause, if we can call it that. I have seen the evidence of the Organisation, and their evil plans."
"Hang on a minute. The organisation? You called it the order yesterday. What exactly are they? And who?"
"They call themselves The Organization, The Old Firm, The Absolute Order, The Messengers of AnXi. They have many names, but whatever you call them, the fact remains that they have been working ceaselessly for a millennium, at least, to subjugate mankind. They want the human race as their slaves, their cattle, to prod and do with as they please. They do this in the name of AnXi, the Iron Goddess of Mercy. Because, total slavery is merciful for humanity."

Inside, the phone rang. Carruthers strode over to pick it up.
"Swindleton-Arglebargle residence, how may I help you?"
There was a lot of static on the line, but other than that, nothing. Carruthers repeated himself. More static.
The ever persistent manservant repeated himself one more time. Static.
Then, something seemed to happen.
"*crk*...automated message..*crk*..do not... I repeat.. Do not.. Drink the tea..*crkBZZZZZZZZZ*" The line went dead. How very curious, Carruthers thought, and went outside to find Arthur and Penny.


" I have never even heard of AnXi," Arthur said. "What kind of goddess is that?"
"To be honest, I have no idea, and neither do anyone else outside of the Order, as far as we can tell. The theories are manifold, of course. Some think it is ancient Chinese. There is a region in china called Anxi. Some say that the Order named the goddess after the region."
Penny saw Carruthers in the distance, apparently carrying a tray. Probably coffee and biscuits. Arthur saw him, too. Good old Carruthers, he thought. He cleared his throat while straightening his sunglasses. He wore them because of the aforementioned hangover. They looked like he had nicked them from Elton John sometime in the 70's.
"Ok. So you are fighting an enemy you don't know anything about, with methods you don't understand, and you're recruiting a drunken fart like myself. You'll understand if I find the whole idea a bit silly. Also, I'm wondering, who are 'we'? Do you kow anything about your side at least?" Arthur turned toward Penny.
He really, really wished she would stop that grinning.
"As I said, I was recruited only five weeks ago, but I have learned a lot in that short time. The 'we' I'm talking about are the resistance. We, or they, have been thwarting the Order's plans almost since the beginning. You could say that we are the Rebel Alliance to the Order's Empire. I have no idea how many we are. We are divided into more or less independent cells, with a very few orders being directed from above when the need arises. I'm sure you've read Nineteen Eighty-Four? Good. The imaginary resistance in that book, is, according to my superiors, based on our resistance movement.  Never let the left hand know what the right hand is doing."

At that moment, Carruthers arrived. He served the coffee and biscuits, and related the phone call. Penny drained her coffee, said that she had to tell this to her superiors and hat she wild be in touch as soon as possible. She also gave Arthur a mobile phone.
"Use this only for Resistance purposes. It's heavily encrypted, and has a self-destruct mechanism."
Arthur found himself wanting to get drunk again. How did he get caught up in this mess?

Later that day, at around 6pm, the mobile phone rang. It was a male voice.
"Lord Swindleton-Arglebargle? Your assistance is needed. Please find your way to Wales, and the small town of Pant-Y-Girdl. You have five hours. Bring your valet, if he wants to come along. Warm him that it might be dangerous."

Click.

The plot thickens!! I'm starting to feel kind of bad for Carruthers. I hope he packs a Haz-Mat suit!

Yeah, poor Carruthers. At least Arthur appreciates him.
:lulz:

Three week bump!

OH SHIT! Has it been that long? FRIDAY AT THE LATEST! PROMISE

Yay!

shit came up. Will post tomorrow.

It's cool.

Arthur and Carruthers had stopped for a cup of coffee in Chippenham, it being roughly halfway between Arthur's house and Pant-Y-Girdle. The café looked like something out of Tim Burton's 70's nightmares. The coffee wasn't good, either, but Arthur didn't care. He was distressed. Even Carruthers was distressed, a fact which scared Arthur like nothing else ever had scared anyone, ever.
"What do you make of all of this, my good man?" Arthur asked his valet.
"You know, sir, I'm afraid I just don't know. Hopefully we will learn something in Wales." Carruthers tried to liik comforting and strong, as he always was, but Arthur could see a small flicker of uncertainty in the manservant's left eyebrow's twitch.
"You know you don't have to come with me, Carruthers? I would never make you do anything that's potentially dangerous." The valet arched his right eyebrow this time.
"I do know that, sir. But I am as curious as you are, if not even more. Besides, sir. I do quite enjoy being your valet, and I am more than happy to provide service that is rather outside the standard contract."
Arthur had to clear his throat. He was touched. And some of his resolve was coming back. He still wanted a cup of tea, and by Jove, he would get one!
"Come, Carruthers, let's press on"

IT followed the car, curious as to where they would go. They seemed to be going slightly southwest, but IT didn't know. He was reluctant to let go of IT's host, as beardy had become quite useful the last few days. This, of course, meant that IT couldn't jump into a more convenient host when he needed to get near at a café. IT had to wait for a good opportunity. IT was good at waiting. IT probably could have had an entry in the Guinnes Book of World Records for waiting. IT pressed his bearded host to follow as the car drove out of the parking lot.

As the car came to a stop outside the abandoned old farm, Arthur wondered what on earth could be hiding in there. He and Carruthers ejected themselves and just stood there, Arthur confused, Carruthers calm and collected, as you would expect him to be.
After a while, someone came and led them towards the ramshackle barn. He unlocked the door, using four different keys. Inside, it looked vastly different. Very clean, sterile, hi-tech. Almost completely noiseless, the only sound a very distinct humming that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"That sound your hear is our source of energy. Without going into too much detail, I can say that it is quite revolutionary. We harness the power of bees," the man suddenly said. Arthur jumped at the sound of his voice, and nearly fell on a table full of test tubes.
"Watch it, Arthur," the man said.
"That's anthrax."
"Anthrax!?" Arthur screamed.
"What the heck are you guys doing with anthrax?"
Carruthers  had his left eyebrow more or less permanently arched. Many of the test tubes had Latin names written on them. The same with the assorted plants and insects in terrariums around the large room, and you can bet money on the fact that the old valet won prizes for his Latin in school.

The man had come to a door, and motioned for the pair to follow him. They did. They walked down several flights of stairs. When they got to the bottom, he asked how far beneath the earth they were, and the man answered.
"150 yards, more or less."
He showed them the way through a large metal door. When they came into the other room, even Carruthers let out an audible gasp.

I keep reading IT as I.T., which lends a rather interesting effect to the story.

Quote from: M. Nigel Salt on July 28, 2013, 08:04:51 AM
I keep reading IT as I.T., which lends a rather interesting effect to the story.

I like that!

Chapter seven will be up tomorrow,  hope

Quote from: Waffleman on July 30, 2013, 07:49:35 PM
Chapter seven will be up tomorrow,  hope

:banana:

Bah! Lost it completely. Have half a chapter down. Hoping to finish it today, or else I'll have to murder someone.

We. See. You. There is no turning back.
Who are we? It depends on who is looking.
Initiate King James Protocol. The code is 24 and 13 and 14. The password is "Proverbs." Transmit!

TSW - The Buzzing - Entry 5


The room was vast. And everywhere there was huge glass rooms full of bees. Huge bees. This must be where the buzzing came from, Arthur thought. Even the man that had brought them here was reverently silent, and only whispered to Arthur and his valet.
"This room covers the entire area of the farm above, and then some. It is our main hub, so to speak. There are millions of bees here. Ah, there's Penny. She'll take you to your supervisor, who'll, hopefully, make things a bit clearer. Later, gentlemen."
He bowed slightly and retreated back out the door.
"This is...amazing, Carruthers! Have you ever seen anything like this?"
"I have not, sir," Carruthers replied, in the subtle tone of a servant  who desperately wants to choke his master for being singularly stupid.
"In fact, I doubt anyone has, aside from the people invited here."
"Gentlemen, I see you made it with good margin. Still an hour and a half left of the deadline given to you on the phone. Welcome to the right hand of the resistance, Agartha!" Penny laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. She refrained from doing that with Carruthers. He wasn't the type you became chummy with in that matter.
"Penny! You're tremendously chipper! You must have been traveling here right in front of us," Arthur said.
"Something like that," Penny replied.
"But, come, come. There is much to do and much to be said. Follow me."
Arthur and Carruthers obliged her in silence, and marveled at the sights in this 'Agartha' room. They could see quite a few small buildings, probably offices or laboratories, Arthur thought, and whispered so to his valet, who agreed. The ceiling and walls all had glass chambers extending several feet out. There were bees everywhere. Arthur noticed that some of the chambers seemed to contain very angry bees, while others were populated by docile ones. He made a mental note to ask about the bees.

Penny led the two to one of the small buildings, which, as suspected, turned out to be a relatively luxurious office. Mahogany desk, fine art on the walls, whisky, cognac, rum and gin on a table in the corner, and chesterfield furniture. Arthur felt right at home.
An elderly military-looking man, complete with large sideburns and a glorious moustache sat behind the desk.
"Ah, Carruthers. Lord Swindleton-Arglebargle. You're early. I like that. Sit down gentlemen."
The man was a definite authority. Even though he was very soft spoken, something about him told you that you'd better obey him. Or else. Or else what, you might wonder. Exactly, your esteemed narrator would then say.
Arthur and his valet sat down. The chesterfields were very comfy. Penny remained standing.

"I'm Dr. Wensleydale, lead scientist and researcher here in Agartha. I oversee all experiments, personally test every new technological or chemical product, and initiate newcomers."
Dr. Wensleydale smiled a bit too wide.
"I haven't slept for two years. Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"
His laugh was somewhat manic, kind of like a demented chemistry teacher at a Cornish public school.
"Excuse me, sir. How is that possible? As far as I know, the brain will shut down after some two weeks," Carruthers said, his eyebrow shaped like a drunken caterpillar.
"Drugs, simply. They simulate the effect of REM sleep, and they work instantly. I'd tell you about how it works and how we made it, but there isn't any time. You need to get the info you need to proceed as soon as possible, plus you absolutely need your inoculations and nanochips and..."
"Hang on, hang on, hang bloody on!" Arthur said.
"Nanochips? Inoculations? For what?"
"Lord Swindleton-Arglebargle, I assure you, you'll be properly informed as to what will happen to you. Now, let's go."
"But," Arthur said,
"What about the bees?"
"All in good time."

They were led down a hidden staircase inside the office, to an even deeper chamber. The chamber was brilliant white, and there were white clad doctoral persons and nurse types everywhere.
And, most importantly, there were huge bees flying freely, thousands of them.
Arthur swallowed loudly.

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 02, 2013, 07:26:10 PM
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

:)

Have the next chapter planned, then it's anyone's guess what'll happen.

Does anyone like this enough to want me to continue?

Not trying to be snarky, just genuine curiosity.

To be completely honest, I have a hard time reading loads of dialogue. Neurotic but true. I thought that what I did read was pleasing, though.

Quote from: What The Fox Say on September 11, 2013, 11:21:28 PM
To be completely honest, I have a hard time reading loads of dialogue. Neurotic but true. I thought that what I did read was pleasing, though.

That's fair enough. Should I finish it (which I must, for my own sanity), there will be more action and less talking, because that's what I want it to be.

May I suggest that you seek to devise a way of breaking up the text to make it more scannable, especially for old and easily confused eyes? For example, a blank line pulling out each person's dialogue like so:


The room was vast. And everywhere there was huge glass rooms full of bees. Huge bees. This must be where the buzzing came from, Arthur thought. Even the man that had brought them here was reverently silent, and only whispered to Arthur and his valet.

"This room covers the entire area of the farm above, and then some. It is our main hub, so to speak. There are millions of bees here. Ah, there's Penny. She'll take you to your supervisor, who'll, hopefully, make things a bit clearer. Later, gentlemen." He bowed slightly and retreated back out the door.

"This is...amazing, Carruthers! Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"I have not, sir," Carruthers replied, in the subtle tone of a servant  who desperately wants to choke his master for being singularly stupid. "In fact, I doubt anyone has, aside from the people invited here."

"Gentlemen, I see you made it with good margin. Still an hour and a half left of the deadline given to you on the phone. Welcome to the right hand of the resistance, Agartha!" Penny laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. She refrained from doing that with Carruthers. He wasn't the type you became chummy with in that matter.

"Penny! You're tremendously chipper! You must have been traveling here right in front of us," Arthur said.

"Something like that," Penny replied.

"But, come, come. There is much to do and much to be said. Follow me."

Arthur and Carruthers obliged her in silence, and marveled at the sights in this 'Agartha' room. They could see quite a few small buildings, probably offices or laboratories, Arthur thought, and whispered so to his valet, who agreed. The ceiling and walls all had glass chambers extending several feet out. There were bees everywhere. Arthur noticed that some of the chambers seemed to contain very angry bees, while others were populated by docile ones. He made a mental note to ask about the bees.

As a matter of fact, even if you keep in dialogue-heavy, I am noticing that breaking it up like that makes it feel vastly more approachable, so that my eyes don't shy away in anticipation of fatigue.

Great advice, Nigel! It's more like. Want to see it myself, but formatting on the iPad is...well..fuck.

Thanks!