This is Zero and DW's fault

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Uncle Pervy
 

This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Uncle Pervy » Thu Apr 28, 2005 5:38 am

It is curious how the advance of technology can make the familiar seem alien, and the alien seem familiar. As the brown-haired man walked down the street the broad street, he felt a curious sense of kinship with the people around him. The streets were paved with cobblestones that had been in place for decades, if not centuries. The buildings were made of brick and wood, seeming antiqued compared to the concrete and steel skyscrapers of Europe and the Americas.

Of course, the rubble from the recent fighting was also a sight seldom seen in the Americas. Sadly, it was all too common in Europe now.

There are no automobiles to be seen, as the people scurry about to fulfill their daily tasks. Some have donkeys and wagons, while many walk. A part of him almost wishes he could see a palaquin along the streets, born by servants. It was strange how a place so foreign could make one feel so wistful.

Then again, many of his countrymen would consider him foreign, now. Certainly he looked like such, dressed in the loose cotton clothing of the native people. Not long ago, he also wore one of their headclothes to fend off the sun's light.

Dressed as he was, he received some stares as he walks through the streets. Some people comment on him, talking about the strange Englishman in Arab's clothing, hardly suspecting he could understand every word. Some small part of him may have bristled at being called English, but that was hardly worth considering now. There were so many differences, why focus on one that hardly is?

"Go back to England!" says a teenaged man as he gives a mockingly respectful bow. Dressed in dirty clothing, his face bearing a scaggle of hair that may one day be a beard, his lips are set in a false grin.

"I believe I shall," answers the brown-haired man in the young man's langauge, as he pauses to adjust his glasses. "It is a shame that my countrymen cannot also leave. Greed is a strong force, Allah will that it not be so."

The young Arab's face falls from a fake grin to abject confusion. For a moment, the man considers letting his own grin shine. That would be needless gloating, and there is no point in that. "Allah be with you, my friend," he says instead, "May that others feel as I do. This land and its people are too precious to exploit." He continues to walk on, leaving the young man stunned.

Now a smile crosses his lips. Shattering illusions should not be so fun.

****

"Pickerson says that that you rode in on a camel!"

"That I did," answers the brown-haired man, as he pauses to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He grins at the rather fit middle-aged Englishman in front of him. "You should try it, sometime. It is an enlightening experience."

"Pah!" the englishman makes a dismissing gesture, "I'm more than happy to stay up here for now, thank you very much! I've had my fill of silly bets when I took double duty as a coal stoker on a steam ship back in '13" He obliges himself a drink of champaigne from the goblet in his hand.

"A wise choice." The brown-haired man glances toward the window, "I suspect there will be a storm tonight."

"You too, eh? Good senses you have." The englishman nods. "I'm curious, is that a snatch of Wales I catch in your voice?"

The brown-haired man nods. It had been so long, and he had used so many accents over time... When was the last time someone hand caught that. "Guilty as charged, Sir Wilson."

"Call me Arnold," says the englishman, "There's far too much we've both been through coat it all with formality."

The brown-haired man allows himself an ironic grin. "This is also true, Arnold." Reaching over, he takes a sip of the tea that Sir Wilson had produced for him. It had been a long time since he allowed himself anything like champaigne. Control was something that could not be bartered away so lightly.

"What were you doing in that desert, anyways? Most of the Turks don't even venture into it if they can stay close to the Tigris."

"Hmmm...suffice it to say I am something of an archeologist." Setting aside his tea, the brown-haired man crosses his legs, then smoothes out his garment. There wasn't too much a point in changing before coming here, after all. "I was investigating some recent findings on my own. Sadly, I'll have to make the bulk of the report on the train."

"Ah, very brave of you to be out there," says Sir Arnold. "Many of the Turks are getting a bit antsy. A real powder keg, don't you know?"

"And I had thought we had just finished the war to end all wars." Once again, the brown-haired man allows himself an ironic grin.

"An easy thing to think, if all you're seeing for days on end are hills of sand." Sir Wilson shakes his head. "The way that Parliament is directig things, we'll be in hot water with the locals soon. Bad enough thet don't know a good thing when they got it."

"The locals or Parliament?"

"Both, really."

****

Sitting back in an overstuffed seat, the brown-haired man closes his eyes. Already, the train was starting to pull from the station. It would be a good time to sleep, whether or not he realy felt like it. It was hard to sleep, thinking about what had happened to this land, and to the world. Even if it wasn't his place to interfere, was it right to leave it all alone? It was hard not to think about the stacks of bodies, about the vile poisons that stained the land, and about the fact that no one seemed to care that it was only a matter of time before it happened again.

The world had changed so much since last time. Could it even be considered home anymore? Is it really worth going back, now?

He shifts, laying himself across the benchlike seat. In proper time, he would awaken. It was going to rain this afternoon, the winds had showed him this clearly. It would help to see the waters flow into the soil, continuing one of nature's major cycles. It alway did.
<p>---------------------------

Your are not supposed to be reading this!</p>

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Capntastic
Aa, cracked glass!
 
Posts: 4579
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 2:09 pm

Re: This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Capntastic » Thu Apr 28, 2005 6:32 pm

Way to blame your troubles on your friends, chump. Gosh.


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Jak Snide
 
Posts: 5457
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Location: London

Re: This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Jak Snide » Thu Apr 28, 2005 6:57 pm

I have a feeling that I know who this is! But I won't volunteer an opinion yet.

I will ask for more, though.


Uncle Pervy
 

Re: This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Uncle Pervy » Thu Apr 28, 2005 9:32 pm

Zero: Bitch, accept your responsibility!

Jak: No plans for an immediate follow-up. <p>---------------------------

Your are not supposed to be reading this!</p>

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Jak Snide
 
Posts: 5457
Joined: Tue Apr 23, 2002 7:14 am
Location: London

Re: This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Jak Snide » Thu Apr 28, 2005 10:20 pm

Buggery! Don't make stuff that seems like the first part of a much larger piece of work. >:


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Capntastic
Aa, cracked glass!
 
Posts: 4579
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 2:09 pm

Re: This is Zero and DW's fault

Unread postby Capntastic » Sat Apr 30, 2005 1:54 am

Don't worry Jak, I can send you a copy of the OST.

Image

Edited by: pd Rydia&nbsp; Image at: 6/8/05 20:27


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