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NaNoWriMo 2011 Day #15
Words In This Update - 2502
Total Words So Far - 33630
Sometimes, the only thing that clears my head after a nap that long is a good, deep nasal probing. The kind where you scrape your nail hard against the side of your nostril and give a few sharp, hearty exhales, hoping for all the world you dislodge whatever it is blocking your sinuses and enabling you to breathe better. Sand and dust and oil and who knows what else gets up there, making everything you smell reek of dirt, and you just got to plow through and dig for your own gold. Much like a dwarf takes pick and drives against hard, earthen wall, delivering unto him and his beard a rocky, crumbly, lumped bounty, so does my finger pull out the ores of my own body and humors. Crystalline, massive, the very color of pyrite or sand specks, clung to my leather glove covered fingertip. Too bad it's not really usable at that level of density. With how malleable it is, I could easily conform it to the shape of whatever I needed for my plane. Tiny screws born of the raw material of my body. It would truly be my own plane. Don't act like you've never taken immense, shameful, secretive delight in prodding at your nose upon waking, either. A genius does all her own work herself and feels damn proud of it regardless of how dirty the work may be. Do not judge me nor feel disgust. You know every word I speak of rings true. Especially if you live in an area as prone to clogging one up as I do. I woke up with a stuffy nose and took care of it the only way I knew how that didn't involve using The Marshal's rag as that's his and I don't want to be gross and impose on him with such crudeness. Well, there's one other way, but I bet whatever medicine Kattu has for it has some horrible side effect to it, like making me think I'm a harpy or some other asinine bullshit. If you want something done right, you do it yourself, and that includes plumbing your depths and freeing them of blockage. I'll be disappointed in the youth of the future if they ever think they're past an age where nose picking is unacceptable. Tissues only go so far. I take it out and wipe it against the side of Kattu and Icilina's wagon, because the one the bards were in was too far a walk for that. I'll make a mental and diary note here to check them out later to target for vandalism, probably with more of the same stuff. I'll just eat a pepper before hand to make sure I have extra ammo. And hey, it beats flicking and accidentally nailing someone in the eye with it. I've seen it happen before, and by Laeshann, was that guy pissed. You'd never seen anyone fly into such a rage and roaring whirlwind of vengeance over something so simple before. Anyways, that's what I did before going to eat dinner, and yes, my gloves were taken off before I ate. Come on, I'm not that unsanitary, cut me some slack for once.
(Israa's note: Sanitize book and wear gloves from here on after starting now.)
Though this does remind me of the time we were on the most northern end of the Razan desert. That's a famous dune area, where the dune cats are usually breeding, and we had been subsisting on a diet of mostly hard, meaty foods. You know, the kind you shove in your craw during survival missions and then wind up with your intestines screwed up in the shape of a basket of lamias due to how chunky and fat everything was. All of the sodium caking your heart and making it feel like you were passing bricks through your bloodstream all while the grease coats your brain cells nice and thick. It tastes good but is murder on your body. Good thing I keep moving enough to not be bothered by it, or I'd have died the second I could spell pigsteak. I really needed to dump my load one day, so to speak, and went out to an area of the dune nobody was using and no cats were nesting in, shovel in hand, and went to dig the toilet hole to end all toilet holes. It would be grand enough to have its own sewage system just by virtue of me having dug it into the side here. I was already far deeper in than anyone else, and even the cats were jealous of my work. One more scoop or two and I'd definitely be able to have adequate privacy and be able to go easier and keep it flushed out of sight. Except for the part where there was already a big, sticky black lump here. Make it a bunch. I prodded at it with the edge of my shovel and even sniffed it a bit. That's when I noticed it wasn't someone's buried treasure dump I found, but my own treasure of another sort. Oil. Precious, slick, chunky oil. It wasn't runny like I was used to, but this format would prove easy enough to refine. I still have plenty of it in the compartment under my heap, stowed away in containers, saved in case I ever found an engine worth using it in. It wouldn't take much to clean up, and now I'm quite glad I took it all and replaced it with a big blocky mess of my own. It was a pretty successful day.
(Israa's note: Okay, yes, re-sanitizing the book and putting extra thick gloves on every time I pick this up starting yesterday. Who knew she was this filthy? I figured oil marks might be on this but her own bodily gunk? How disrespectful can you get?)
I swear that had a point. See, I figured I should just go on the too much information bodily humor theme and it's what I'd need to get that engine I found in tip top shape. Maybe a bit to grease up the winnowing contraption I found for Kattu. I began praying it was still there, so she could keep quiet and let me work in peace. I'd kept my end of the bargain, after all, and besides, her shitty drugs didn't even work, but part of me knows she probably did that on purpose now. Given how much she wants to see me sleep with Lock, I wouldn't be at all surprised. She was probably waiting for her to either give up the facade or for me to take advantage. Come on, I've more scruples than that, don't I? The answer is yes. Kattu had no right to complain now if I didn't keep my end of the deal up, but given how cramped I am on time? I think I have to. No room to negotiate when I've been given an ultimatum and need my free time to work with instead of being haunted by the medicine woman and her twitchy eye. It was back down to the Solim Mines I went, right after I scarfed down my dinner. Lock still lay rested, still fat from her earlier meals. How I almost envied that sleep she was getting. I packed my things, put on my hard hat with light, and headed back towards the top of the basin, adjusting my remaining eye and yawning a bit. First step down and....
...Wouldn't you know it, but my depth perception being shot made me tumble down the whole walkway and rolling down to the entrance. I'm lucky it's almost entirely soft packed sand all the way down, or I'd have been in even more hurt and trouble. Last thing I wanted was that Icilina brat bothering me again with her giggling and patting my nose. On one hand, it was almost fun, in a way, figuring that it was sort of like taking flight and letting myself move freely through the air and tumble along with the wind. On the other hand, it still hurts and burns like a bitch when you impact into it. The most I'd need to recover would be a bath, but again, I don't need Icilina walking up to me and shoving a warm washcloth into my shorts and declaring that a wash up. At least you're safe, journal, so the future generations can read about this and fawn over all my cool scars. I hear chicks like that a lot. And some guys. That is, if they weren't scared off by all my discussion of how awesome it is to relieve yourself, which I will forever stand behind, because why should I feel bad about that? They could add it to any statues of me, too, just sandblast it a bit for realism. Just don't go wasting of the precious tar and oil sands on it, or I'll bite you from the beyond. Don't think I wouldn't, because I most definitely would. I'm much scarier than you think!
Once I dusted everything off, I made my way inside, turning on my hat and looking around. Yukina was here, looking quite roughed up from her rounds with Lock, tied and chained to the wall. My mine cart full of stuff I had been hoarding for the greater good of myself was intact, and so was everything in it. I dislodged the track from the rails it was on and began to push it against the earthy floor, hearing it crack and rattle under me. When you have ears as sensitive as a Stormlock's then you know that's complete torture. What I won't give to save you people. Yukina snarled at me and tried to breathe her flames out at me, only to find herself stifled and choking. I glanced over, noticing Lock had brought those enchanted restraints I got back in Tolin to lock Lock up with and placed them on her. That muzzle worked especially well, turning her into nothing more than a squawking fool. Ah, it was like music to my ears, only tolerable for once in my life! Why couldn't the bards come in and just bash their mandolins against her to play my kind of song is well beyond me. I got the pickax back out and chipped off enough ores that I could get a hold of, sticking my tongue out at Yukina as I filled up and headed back out, making a strong, sloping, upwards march back towards the wagons. Once there, I noticed Lock was awake, offering to watch it for me, saying she knew I was going back for the engine. She also said that if her sister gave me any crap, just to let her know and she'd have a few strong words with her about respecting those that could easily best you, especially when you're tied up and in no position to argue back. A few of the other elves around nodded, as if saying they'd watch Lock just in case she did something off, assuring me to go.
Lock smiled as I walked off, and I made sure I was well out of her sight before smiling back. Oh, by Our Lady Laeshann's hallowed name, what's gotten into me? Why can a simple smile now do so much as even disarming the legendary Basira? I was never one into sap. As far as I was concerned, that was for resins and syrups. I'd take those over romance any day. Whatever, I went in, snagged the engine and box that had come with it, and slowly and carefully made my way back to my wagon. It was time to clean it out and fill it, setting it up to see if it even worked. I really hoped it did, as I've no other way of obtaining another one, and were it to go, the rest of the plane would fall into place just as easy.
That's when Lock approached me and took me off to the side, hand on my shoulder, claws in it. I gulped, not knowing what she was about to do, and felt strangely hesitant. Was I going to be attacked? Devoured? Hugged? Given a surprise bath party hosted by Icilina? Oh, I prayed it wasn't that last one especially, any fate would be better than being given another drugged bath while something vaguely underaged and high pet me in the face like she would her own dune cat. The only thing that would make that worse is if she played a tiny fiddle while doing so and invited a harpy over to chirp an out of tune ballad right in my ears as loudly as she could. I'd take being eaten whole and live over being suddenly deafened just by someone being out of key.
“I know you want to be able to draw Lock and be able to build your plane the best you can. Lock wants to see it. So let Lock help. Lock will pose, you draw, okay, boss elf? Lock wants to see boss elf fly and maybe knock some sense into Lock and Yukina's elder. It's not Yukina's fault she's so mad and violent. Just take flight, boss elf, and Lock thinks they'd see your point” she whispered to me, tongue flicking against my earlobe. Naturally, I turned bright red and shivered a bit at such a sensation. I'd never felt someone lick me there and it was...I'll be honest. Desirable. I nodded, getting my sketchbook out and froze as I saw her removing the few garments she had kept on just to be modest around everyone else.
I must have glowed so bright red, the stars themselves could see me, jealous of me outshining them. Lock was gorgeous. Perfectly formed, just the right amount of muscle and curve to her, chest far outranking mine but that's not the point, unashamed to show me any of it. Besides, it's not the point how big she is or how small I am, it's what I do with it that counts, and any young lady reading this in the future would be well reminded of that. A genius doesn't keep her brains in her tits, after all. As I sketched her, only one thing passed through my mind.
I wanted to apologize to her. And make it up to her. There was only one way that I could think of that I could possibly do this. All I'd have to do is ask if she'd want me to. I could feel myself swallow what felt like a ton of pyrite as I curled my lips to my teeth and went to ask.
This would be the hardest question of my life to ask. Godfuckingdammit.
-Basira Nejem
Dated nighttime of the eighth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 in which I was about to go past the point of no return regarding my pride
Total Words So Far - 33630
Sometimes, the only thing that clears my head after a nap that long is a good, deep nasal probing. The kind where you scrape your nail hard against the side of your nostril and give a few sharp, hearty exhales, hoping for all the world you dislodge whatever it is blocking your sinuses and enabling you to breathe better. Sand and dust and oil and who knows what else gets up there, making everything you smell reek of dirt, and you just got to plow through and dig for your own gold. Much like a dwarf takes pick and drives against hard, earthen wall, delivering unto him and his beard a rocky, crumbly, lumped bounty, so does my finger pull out the ores of my own body and humors. Crystalline, massive, the very color of pyrite or sand specks, clung to my leather glove covered fingertip. Too bad it's not really usable at that level of density. With how malleable it is, I could easily conform it to the shape of whatever I needed for my plane. Tiny screws born of the raw material of my body. It would truly be my own plane. Don't act like you've never taken immense, shameful, secretive delight in prodding at your nose upon waking, either. A genius does all her own work herself and feels damn proud of it regardless of how dirty the work may be. Do not judge me nor feel disgust. You know every word I speak of rings true. Especially if you live in an area as prone to clogging one up as I do. I woke up with a stuffy nose and took care of it the only way I knew how that didn't involve using The Marshal's rag as that's his and I don't want to be gross and impose on him with such crudeness. Well, there's one other way, but I bet whatever medicine Kattu has for it has some horrible side effect to it, like making me think I'm a harpy or some other asinine bullshit. If you want something done right, you do it yourself, and that includes plumbing your depths and freeing them of blockage. I'll be disappointed in the youth of the future if they ever think they're past an age where nose picking is unacceptable. Tissues only go so far. I take it out and wipe it against the side of Kattu and Icilina's wagon, because the one the bards were in was too far a walk for that. I'll make a mental and diary note here to check them out later to target for vandalism, probably with more of the same stuff. I'll just eat a pepper before hand to make sure I have extra ammo. And hey, it beats flicking and accidentally nailing someone in the eye with it. I've seen it happen before, and by Laeshann, was that guy pissed. You'd never seen anyone fly into such a rage and roaring whirlwind of vengeance over something so simple before. Anyways, that's what I did before going to eat dinner, and yes, my gloves were taken off before I ate. Come on, I'm not that unsanitary, cut me some slack for once.
(Israa's note: Sanitize book and wear gloves from here on after starting now.)
Though this does remind me of the time we were on the most northern end of the Razan desert. That's a famous dune area, where the dune cats are usually breeding, and we had been subsisting on a diet of mostly hard, meaty foods. You know, the kind you shove in your craw during survival missions and then wind up with your intestines screwed up in the shape of a basket of lamias due to how chunky and fat everything was. All of the sodium caking your heart and making it feel like you were passing bricks through your bloodstream all while the grease coats your brain cells nice and thick. It tastes good but is murder on your body. Good thing I keep moving enough to not be bothered by it, or I'd have died the second I could spell pigsteak. I really needed to dump my load one day, so to speak, and went out to an area of the dune nobody was using and no cats were nesting in, shovel in hand, and went to dig the toilet hole to end all toilet holes. It would be grand enough to have its own sewage system just by virtue of me having dug it into the side here. I was already far deeper in than anyone else, and even the cats were jealous of my work. One more scoop or two and I'd definitely be able to have adequate privacy and be able to go easier and keep it flushed out of sight. Except for the part where there was already a big, sticky black lump here. Make it a bunch. I prodded at it with the edge of my shovel and even sniffed it a bit. That's when I noticed it wasn't someone's buried treasure dump I found, but my own treasure of another sort. Oil. Precious, slick, chunky oil. It wasn't runny like I was used to, but this format would prove easy enough to refine. I still have plenty of it in the compartment under my heap, stowed away in containers, saved in case I ever found an engine worth using it in. It wouldn't take much to clean up, and now I'm quite glad I took it all and replaced it with a big blocky mess of my own. It was a pretty successful day.
(Israa's note: Okay, yes, re-sanitizing the book and putting extra thick gloves on every time I pick this up starting yesterday. Who knew she was this filthy? I figured oil marks might be on this but her own bodily gunk? How disrespectful can you get?)
I swear that had a point. See, I figured I should just go on the too much information bodily humor theme and it's what I'd need to get that engine I found in tip top shape. Maybe a bit to grease up the winnowing contraption I found for Kattu. I began praying it was still there, so she could keep quiet and let me work in peace. I'd kept my end of the bargain, after all, and besides, her shitty drugs didn't even work, but part of me knows she probably did that on purpose now. Given how much she wants to see me sleep with Lock, I wouldn't be at all surprised. She was probably waiting for her to either give up the facade or for me to take advantage. Come on, I've more scruples than that, don't I? The answer is yes. Kattu had no right to complain now if I didn't keep my end of the deal up, but given how cramped I am on time? I think I have to. No room to negotiate when I've been given an ultimatum and need my free time to work with instead of being haunted by the medicine woman and her twitchy eye. It was back down to the Solim Mines I went, right after I scarfed down my dinner. Lock still lay rested, still fat from her earlier meals. How I almost envied that sleep she was getting. I packed my things, put on my hard hat with light, and headed back towards the top of the basin, adjusting my remaining eye and yawning a bit. First step down and....
...Wouldn't you know it, but my depth perception being shot made me tumble down the whole walkway and rolling down to the entrance. I'm lucky it's almost entirely soft packed sand all the way down, or I'd have been in even more hurt and trouble. Last thing I wanted was that Icilina brat bothering me again with her giggling and patting my nose. On one hand, it was almost fun, in a way, figuring that it was sort of like taking flight and letting myself move freely through the air and tumble along with the wind. On the other hand, it still hurts and burns like a bitch when you impact into it. The most I'd need to recover would be a bath, but again, I don't need Icilina walking up to me and shoving a warm washcloth into my shorts and declaring that a wash up. At least you're safe, journal, so the future generations can read about this and fawn over all my cool scars. I hear chicks like that a lot. And some guys. That is, if they weren't scared off by all my discussion of how awesome it is to relieve yourself, which I will forever stand behind, because why should I feel bad about that? They could add it to any statues of me, too, just sandblast it a bit for realism. Just don't go wasting of the precious tar and oil sands on it, or I'll bite you from the beyond. Don't think I wouldn't, because I most definitely would. I'm much scarier than you think!
Once I dusted everything off, I made my way inside, turning on my hat and looking around. Yukina was here, looking quite roughed up from her rounds with Lock, tied and chained to the wall. My mine cart full of stuff I had been hoarding for the greater good of myself was intact, and so was everything in it. I dislodged the track from the rails it was on and began to push it against the earthy floor, hearing it crack and rattle under me. When you have ears as sensitive as a Stormlock's then you know that's complete torture. What I won't give to save you people. Yukina snarled at me and tried to breathe her flames out at me, only to find herself stifled and choking. I glanced over, noticing Lock had brought those enchanted restraints I got back in Tolin to lock Lock up with and placed them on her. That muzzle worked especially well, turning her into nothing more than a squawking fool. Ah, it was like music to my ears, only tolerable for once in my life! Why couldn't the bards come in and just bash their mandolins against her to play my kind of song is well beyond me. I got the pickax back out and chipped off enough ores that I could get a hold of, sticking my tongue out at Yukina as I filled up and headed back out, making a strong, sloping, upwards march back towards the wagons. Once there, I noticed Lock was awake, offering to watch it for me, saying she knew I was going back for the engine. She also said that if her sister gave me any crap, just to let her know and she'd have a few strong words with her about respecting those that could easily best you, especially when you're tied up and in no position to argue back. A few of the other elves around nodded, as if saying they'd watch Lock just in case she did something off, assuring me to go.
Lock smiled as I walked off, and I made sure I was well out of her sight before smiling back. Oh, by Our Lady Laeshann's hallowed name, what's gotten into me? Why can a simple smile now do so much as even disarming the legendary Basira? I was never one into sap. As far as I was concerned, that was for resins and syrups. I'd take those over romance any day. Whatever, I went in, snagged the engine and box that had come with it, and slowly and carefully made my way back to my wagon. It was time to clean it out and fill it, setting it up to see if it even worked. I really hoped it did, as I've no other way of obtaining another one, and were it to go, the rest of the plane would fall into place just as easy.
That's when Lock approached me and took me off to the side, hand on my shoulder, claws in it. I gulped, not knowing what she was about to do, and felt strangely hesitant. Was I going to be attacked? Devoured? Hugged? Given a surprise bath party hosted by Icilina? Oh, I prayed it wasn't that last one especially, any fate would be better than being given another drugged bath while something vaguely underaged and high pet me in the face like she would her own dune cat. The only thing that would make that worse is if she played a tiny fiddle while doing so and invited a harpy over to chirp an out of tune ballad right in my ears as loudly as she could. I'd take being eaten whole and live over being suddenly deafened just by someone being out of key.
“I know you want to be able to draw Lock and be able to build your plane the best you can. Lock wants to see it. So let Lock help. Lock will pose, you draw, okay, boss elf? Lock wants to see boss elf fly and maybe knock some sense into Lock and Yukina's elder. It's not Yukina's fault she's so mad and violent. Just take flight, boss elf, and Lock thinks they'd see your point” she whispered to me, tongue flicking against my earlobe. Naturally, I turned bright red and shivered a bit at such a sensation. I'd never felt someone lick me there and it was...I'll be honest. Desirable. I nodded, getting my sketchbook out and froze as I saw her removing the few garments she had kept on just to be modest around everyone else.
I must have glowed so bright red, the stars themselves could see me, jealous of me outshining them. Lock was gorgeous. Perfectly formed, just the right amount of muscle and curve to her, chest far outranking mine but that's not the point, unashamed to show me any of it. Besides, it's not the point how big she is or how small I am, it's what I do with it that counts, and any young lady reading this in the future would be well reminded of that. A genius doesn't keep her brains in her tits, after all. As I sketched her, only one thing passed through my mind.
I wanted to apologize to her. And make it up to her. There was only one way that I could think of that I could possibly do this. All I'd have to do is ask if she'd want me to. I could feel myself swallow what felt like a ton of pyrite as I curled my lips to my teeth and went to ask.
This would be the hardest question of my life to ask. Godfuckingdammit.
-Basira Nejem
Dated nighttime of the eighth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 in which I was about to go past the point of no return regarding my pride