Freshman, Fourth Week, Spring Quarter, et alia

Altclair is Naomi's campaign, set at the college of Altclair, which is somewhere in Minnesota. Think Pamela Dean's Tam Lin or GURPS Illuminati IOU. Other source material (that Naomi's not familiar with) might include Elizabeth Hand's Waking the Moon, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and most of Charles de Lint. Players are me (Justin Thorne), Josh (Michael Conaway), and Manny (Jim Gaffney).

From the Desk of Justin Thorne:

Fourth Week, Spring Quarter

Dramatis Personae

• Rashid Ali Mk II - Chemistry major from Jordan. My roommate who replaced my previous roommate of the same name and is pretending to be him. I'm trying not to think about this.
• Daniel Case - Theater major who deserves a long break from me.
• Ken Maravitch - Math major, but almost a Philosophy major and president of GALA. (1)

• Sarah Lacey - Theater major, our local femme fatale.
• Matt Denkla - Theater major. He, Daniel, and Sarah are on the Board of Directors for the department.
• Michael Conaway - History major. He has a life like a soap opera.
• Jennifer Blake - Mage, sensitive, widow, mother-to-be. On the receiving end of Michael's soap opera.
• Ashleiegh - Jennifer's and Michael's unborn daughter
• Delilah Morgan - English major. Michael's former girlfriend.
• Helen Abernathy - My former girlfriend.
• Beth Gillespie - Michael's current girlfriend
• Ash Wednesday - Mage, Michael's teacher.
• Iris Monequin - Mage, Jennifer's teacher
• Jido - adopted by Jennifer after we brought him back from 13th century Mongolia
• Diometra - exchange student from Ancient Crete. Fortunately, she picks up languages very quickly.

I've been busy since the Board agreed to let me direct Noises Off as the sixth week play. Matt did me one heck of a favor by pointing me at Jessica for AD/Stage Manager. I think Jessica and I can help each other out quite a lot. Jonathan promised props by Fifth Week's end, so I'll leave him to it.

Rashid Mk. II was amazed by the carpet and didn't want me to undo it. He let me borrow it to zip around the cafeteria first day of classes. I wore my cap. Daniel jumped on - there was apparently no weight limit - and explained that he couldn't resist. Heck, I couldn't have either. So everything was fine till I slipped a note under his door asking if he wanted the latest on the gargoyles. He wanted a break, so I'll give him one till Eight Week, when I plan to pick his brains about the nineteenth century and ask if I can pick Matt's without it hurting him or Daniel hurting me. (2)

In any case, after that, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd just supplied a terrorist with a flying carpet, one that accepted verbal commands. Delilah said to just unmake it. I went to Ken to check the math, and he confirmed it. He added that, given that Rashid and I do not lie to each other, but do choose not to discuss certain subjects, I should unmake the carpet, say I thought it was best, and let him draw the obvious conclusions. So I went to do that while Ken had the shakes.

Rashid, apparently, hadn't thought of the obvious applications, but once he figured out what I'd done, he was extremely gracious, and said that his war was not mine. I got Ken a Guiness to make up for dumping this one him. He knows what Rashid Mk. II is, but not about the shell game, and he said he'll keep quiet unless something blows up that can't be accounted for any other way.

I did manage to make GALA after that, and one doesn't take notes there, but basically, I listened, and everyone said to talk to Helen, so I did that too. She was not thrilled and did ask if this was an excuse to break up, but, as I told her, if I wanted to break up with her, I would have come up with a more original excuse than being gay.

In any case, since I'm not likely to be dating any one from either gender until after Noises Off goes up, we've agreed to let things cool down and see where we stand. And the folks from GALA were correct: Having two working brain cells to rub together, Helen did figure out that something wasn't clicking. Whether it's me or her remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, I decided to take a picture of the Econ building when I wasn't in a foul mood, and the building up and -flirted- with me. Such a lovely picture! Oh, won't you come into my parlor and take lots of wonderful Econ classes in its beautiful halls? Not this fly, thanks!

Compounding my idiocy, I decided to play with Sarah. This is fun, but foolish.

I told her what I knew, and she was impressed. She said that I was missing a few details, and that my mother had lost her nerve after my father's death. And, to get a glimpse of what she's selling, the task she set me was to learn about my father. I asked her which one, in both contexts, and she said yes, both times.

This is a challenge I may have to let drop. I won't hurt my mother over this. (3)

Next, I was foolish enough to discuss options about the pants I sketched on. Naturally, she was in favor of my turning them into pants that begged to be ripped off, especially if she could help in the ripping off department. While I considered my options, she took matters into her own hands and modified them appropriately. Jennifer, after thoroughly embarrassing me, assured me that the only magic was extremely good craftsmanship.

When I complained that Sarah had left me nothing to do, Jennifer, Michael, and Beth convinced me to complete the outfit - make a shirt, order boots, wear the ensemble at the cast party to show Sarah I'm not intimidated. Michael offered to loan me steel for the occasion, but I'll have to collect it personally, if I want to. I asked where one would carry the condoms, and Michael made the obvious suggestion. Jennifer took pity on me, and suggested my boot. Michael said that they make pony tail holders for the purpose. Just how did he stumble across that factoid, I wonder?

So, the cast party may get interesting, and I'd better stay relatively sober. If anything does happen, I want to know about it then, not vaguely recall it three days later.

But the interesting thing is that neither I nor Rashid let Sarah into the room. Rashid was troubled when he learned of her visit, stating that he had left a number of indicators around, and none had been disturbed. So, she can apparently walk through walls (or something) and get information from the stars (or somewhere). It is tempting to set Sarah and Rashid at each other's throats, then sit back and watch the fireworks. Hell, Sarah would do that. I'd better watch it -- I'm in danger of becoming too much like her. I did behave, and asked Rashid not to hurt her. Assuming it stops here, he won't, and I'll keep my nose clean for the rest of the quarter. Mostly. She'll probably do the same.

About that "mostly": I plan to make Sarah a dress, following Beth's suggestion. Keynote: Beautiful and terrible as an army with banners.

I also plan to make Rashid Mk. II an ever-refilling water bottle. It should make up, at least in part, for my theft of the flyingness of his carpet.(4)

Beth and Michael are now dating, and he's living mostly in her room. She's at least semi-inner circle, as it were. She saw the flying carpet act (as did the rest of the cafeteria), and demanded an explanation from Michael, who conjured up some alcohol in her fridge. When he tried to conjure up more, the fridge tried to swallow him. After Jennifer and I found out about this, yelled at him, got yelled at by Beth, and made the same dumb ghostbuster jokes Michael and Beth had already made, Jennifer pronounced the fridge safe, and I took a photo of it, just in case. It's a fridge.

Delilah is engaged to Russell Mast, the VP of Student Government. It's overly hasty, but the marriage isn't scheduled until after graduation, so that gives her plenty of time to make sure that this is what she wants, not just a way to ditch Michael.

Delilah spent her intersession looking for Rashid Mk. I in Jordan. She says that she wants him to remember her, sort of taming the beast or building bridges. And anyway, she considers him a friend. So, she suggested we get a bunch of letters together for him and ask the postal mages to deliver them. I'd thought of this, but wasn't sure it was a good idea. What I didn't realize was that they not only delivered our letters to David, but they also delivered David's reply to Michael's letter. So, we've gotten a package together, along with a lengthy explanation. It goes out tomorrow.

That's everything except Jennifer.

Now, for the latest chapter in the Conaway Soap Opera:

Jennifer informed Michael that he had two choices. a) acknowledge the child at birth or b) give up the right to ever do so, along with all parenting rights. Michael chose option a).

He then, understandably, told his parents about his role. After all, one wants to give them some time to adjust. His parents wanted him to do the honorable thing (i.e., marry her), and he gave the obvious excuse (She don't wanna, as Jim said).

Michael's father went up to Ash's, to "talk sense into the woman." No one knows exactly what happened next, except for him, and he isn't talking, and Jennifer, who hasn't been awake long enough to talk.

After that, whatever it was, Mr. Conaway systematically beat Jennifer to within an inch of her life, taking care not to damage the unborn child. Jido shifted to dragon form and attacked Mr. Conaway, who retreated, grabbed his wife and son, and drove halfway across the country, saying only that "the witch" had "messed with" Michael's mind.

Michael's parents kept an eye on him, but he contacted Ash, who restored Michael's magic. Michael wiped his father's memory of Jido's dragonshape, but could not do more, since he did not know what had happened. While Michael's father slept naturally, he put his mother to sleep magically, left a note, and left on the Train called The City of New Orleans.

Jennifer still hasn't been awake long enough to talk. Jido is still in dragon form. Ash, I gather, is furious.

Fifth Week

Jennifer Update Or, the Missing Minute.

What did Jennifer do to cause Mr. Conaway to beat her? She panicked when he loomed over her, yelled at her, and called her the Whore of Babylon. Far, very far, from my worst fears, all she did was to use her magic to move him back three steps. That is all.

Mr. Conaway snapped after that. He had no thoughts of sparing the child. Jennifer made a wish: Don't let him hurt the baby. That is all.

I want to fall down at her feet and beg her to forgive me for all the nasty things I thought about her. I shall, of course, do nothing of the kind. She has come amazingly far since Yule. If it had been me, I think I'd have killed Mr. Conaway, regardless of any conscious desires.

However, Mr. Conaway is dead anyway. He had a surprisingly convenient heart attack. Jennifer did not cause it. Ash would not, nor would Mary, nor, I think, Michael. We suspect Iris. Michael does not know and is afraid to ask. However, after much thought, he decided to find out, and, if she is, settle for blood price to be paid in child support for Ashleigh. This is probably the best one can do if Iris is responsible.

Michael's mother wants wants him to leave Altclair, give up magic, and become a good Catholic. When he would not agree to do this, she nearly forbade him to attend his own father's funeral.

I talked to Ken about this. He gave me the drill he knows for telling religious parents about sexual preference, and it sounds like Michael's following it. Tell her you love her, and keep emphasizing this. Stress that you're the same person you've always been. Stick to your guns.

Much better than I'd have done. I want to show Mrs. Conaway what Jennifer looks like and explain that the only reason her grandson is not dead is that Ye Whore of Babylon values her baby's life over her own. But I suspect that would backfire something awful.

Meanwhile, we've got an exchange student from ancient Crete named Diometra. She's a bard who is always asked to translate rather than to do Bardic stuff. This is because she is phenomenally quick at learning languages. The Classics department sent Jim to fetch her to translate some scrolls or tablets or something, paying her grad student slave labor wages. I told Jim to get the Classics Department to show us - or at least him - the VCR tape that was playing when Delilah followed Jido to Outer Mongolia.

Diometra joined us for Delilah's seder, which went well, though I discovered I had an unexpected role. It seems that the youngest person has to ask questions. Pity Jido couldn't be there. Next year, I hope. Rashid Mk. II politely declined to attend the seder. So much for best wishes.

The day after the seder, I outdid myself in stupidity, so much so that I'll need to make a separate entry for it.

[Written in Arabic]

Dear Rashid,

I hope that our letter finds you, and finds you well. As you will know if you are reading this, this letter, if you are reading it, was delivered by the postal mages. This means that you don't have to worry about who read it first.

I'm sticking a copy of the Postal Special Issue of my gazette in the envelope, so you now know most of what we know about them. If you see corrections on this letter in strange handwriting, it's probably theirs. If so, do let me know - I'm curious about how badly my written Arabic is.

I hope that you don't mind the letter. As I indicated in the gazette, if one worries about the Postal Mages, then nothing written, emailed, spoken over a phone, spoken not over a phone, or so much as thought is likely to be thought any safer. I know we have contact information, but given precisely how well my roommate can play his part, I hope that you understand why we would like a little more indication of your continued well being.

I wish you were here. I would certainly have made you break your New Year's Resolution at least once (5) (and that's not even counting what I'm planning for Fifth Week)! I like my roommate, and I have no desire that he should change his academic plans, but you are missed.

I am going to assume that you know most of what happened on campus last quarter. This may not stop me from telling you some of those things that you already know, but it should cut down on the weight of the letter.

Jim's sister Cat got married and, by serendipity, made it to campus for my birthday party - I hope you already know about that. Wait Until Dark (the play I directed) went very well, despite an unintended side effect. I got much too drunk at the party afterwards and am giving at least token consideration to staying away from alcohol. I am a dangerous happy drunk.

Despite all of that, I am being allowed to direct again. The play is Noises Off, a very silly farce which I think you'd like. It's scheduled for Sixth Week.

Let's see, Michael got shot last quarter. He was being heroic, protecting a woman, and he's recovering slowly. Assuming he doesn't mind, I'll stick in the relevant newspaper articles. I'm hoping that he will still make the Olympic fencing team.

Jim stunned us all at the auditions for Noises Off. I'm really hoping that he'll minor in Theater.

Delilah's getting ready to hold her seder. Helen's staying remarkably sane, as usual. Jennifer is pregnant. Her daughter will probably be born around the end of the summer break. Jido is learning English much faster than I am learning Mongolian.

I spent this past intersession with my mother, who liked the play.

I'm making a small sum taking yearbook photos, and I have a longterm project to keep me happy. Do you or any of your friends know anything about gargoyles? Here's a sketch of one so you'll know what I mean.

The Economy Building is flirting with me, or at least with my camera. I'd better warn my roommate not to take classes there.

Tell us what you can when you can, and let me know how bad my written Arabic is.

Justin

Written in English

To my mother and the Postal Mages:

This is an explanation of my latest hairbrained scheme. I don't know if it's necessary, but I'm putting 2 copies of this letter in the envelope.

Last quarter, I took some pictures of the gargoyles on campus. At the time, I assumed that they were merely decorative architectural features. However, when I developed the film, I discovered that the gargoyles were using sign language in the photos, finger spelling to be precise. Their message was a simple one: "Help us."

Jennifer attempted to communicate with them, but could only ascertain that they were completely non-magical. I tried a few experiments - tapping in Morse code, talking, finger spelling - but the only thing that seems to work is my taking pictures of them.

This earned us a few more details. The gargoyles are distressed because their magic was drained and they cannot move. Richard Lerner and Michael Grossman, who founded Altclair in the 1880s, are responsible, or so they say. I've pressed for more details, but I believe that the gargoyles have told me all they can or all they will.

I have one other unusual piece of evidence, although I am not sure of what it is evidence. I made a dream catcher last quarter to help a friend who was having nightmares. I finally took a look at two nightmares. They look like tiny gargoyles.

They don't seem to eat of drink. I am not sure if they even breathe. Jennifer assures me that they are magical. Since previous nightmares were disposed of by burning, they are flammable.

I do not presently have the nightmares. Jennifer and Michael agreed to bring them to Ash.

Jennifer has begun doing research, and I'll help once the play is over. However, it is possible that we will need more information than we can find in the twentieth century.

Should this prove to be the case, I intend to travel to the nineteenth century, provided that the train called The City of New Orleans is willing to take me there. I will not attempt this if we can solve the problem posed by the gargoyles in the twentieth century. This letter, then, is partly a warning that I may try something foolish, and partly a request for information. Do you know anything about gargoyles that you might pass on to me? I gather that communities of mages formed during the nineteenth century as sort of a magical counterpart to the less unusual social experiments of the time. Is there anything you can tell me about these?

We are checking records at Altclair, and I've been advised to check with the University of Chicago as well. If Daniel's recovered from having to put up with me last quarter, I'll see if there's anything more that he can tell me, particularly if I do need to make a trip. I'm especially concerned about the little details that I'm far too likely to overlook.

As far as finances go, I believe that I can afford a round trip ticket. However, twentieth century money will be no good in the nineteenth century. What sorts of things can be purchased inexpensively here and sold quickly and at a reasonably large profit there? Would I be able to support myself with my artistic, literary, and blacksmithing talents? I refer here to my relatively ordinary talents. Are there unions or guilds I might run afoul of?

Would it be possible for me to send letters from the nineteenth to the twentieth century? If so, what is the procedure? Would it be possible for someone writing during the twentieth century to send a letter to me?

Jennifer has strongly advised me to bring along a travelling companion capable of protecting me with magic or, failing that, capable of protecting me by physical means. Michael would be ideal, as he can do both; however, he needs every spare moment to get himself in shape for the Olympic tryouts. Since time passes in the present when one is in the past, I cannot ask him to accompany me. While I have no intentions of dawdling or sightseeing, I simply do not know how much time I will need to spend in the past. Indeed, while I hope that this will be a summer project, completed before the fall quarter begins, I cannot guarantee that this will be the case. I am going to fill out the paperwork for a leave of absence, although I hope that it will not need to be filed.

After Michael, Jennifer would make a good companion, but she is pregnant, and the nineteenth century is not a good time to give birth. I've asked Jennifer about Iris and Ash, but there are reasons for not bringing either of them. Some of these reasons may apply to Mary as well.

I intend to ask Daniel if he has any ideas. One possibility that occurred to Jennifer and me is the woman who taught Ash. She is dead, and he was not alive in the nineteenth century, but he might be able to write me a convincing letter of recommendation, identifying himself as a future student of hers. However, Jennifer indicated that to do this would cause him pain, so we would prefer to find an alternative. Perhaps a letter of introduction from the Postal Mages would have the same effect without causing anyone pain? If you would be willing to do this, I will learn what I can about Ash's teacher.

Do any of you have any ideas about possible travelling companions? My roommate, while no mage, is certainly physically competent, but, while our relationship is cordial, I am reluctant to strain it by asking him to accompany me. (6)

Again, if we can learn the answers we need without a trip through time, I will be happy to cancel my plans. Mother, if it helps, remember that while I'm focused on this, I am not baiting Sarah or flirting with the Econ Building, both of which are probably more dangerous.

Justin

Footnotes

(1) Gay and Lesbian Association

(2) The carpet flies three inches above the ground. Justin wants to help the gargoyles on campus who were immobilized and had their magic stolen sometime during the 19th century, when both Matt and Daniel were born. Matt recently had his mind rubbed in traumatic memories from that period.

(3) Somewhere around here, Naomi issued me an Official Warning that if Justin went snooping into Sarah's affairs, he'd get himself killed. I appreciated the warning, as the hints she thought were obvious went right over my head.

(4) According to the Koran, according to Naomi, if one accidentally makes someone eles's possession more valuable, the original owner is entitled to the extra value. By undoing what he did to the carpet, Justin was stealing something that belonged to Rashid.

(5) Rashid Mk I's New Year's resolution was never to be surprised at anything Justin and his friends did.

(6) Also, while one cannot change the past, the thought of a Palestinian terrorist traveling back in time and making certain preparations scares Justin.

Additional Natter

Comment to Lee Gold about corpse looting

In the Altclair game, there was an odd bit of corpse looting. A very powerful, very nasty dragon--not to be confused with a much nicer dragon of the PCs' acquaintance--was killed and Justin had hoped to see what he could make of the corpse, literally. The dragon didn't leave one per se; it turned into the hill it had always seemed to be. Justin had to content himself with a single dragon scale. However, the hill itself is quite magical. Michael and Justin both have some of the dirt. Sarah owns the land where the hill is and, thus, the majority of the dirt. All of this could be construed as corpse looting.

The person who gave Justin the scale told him that dragon scale hunting had been both lucrative and hazardous in the Middle Ages. Justin isn't sure what people did with the scales; he hasn't found a way to do anything with something so hard. All he's managed to do so far is clean the dirt off it. Sure is pretty, though.

Oddly, Justin has worked with human skin on one occasion. He did not have an ethical problem with this, as it was his own skin, and he is weird enough to consider this cool. Since Justin's started talking to trees and wooden doors, when he makes something with wood, that could be construed as a kind of corpse looting.