Adventure Gamers - Forums

giom - 27 March 2021 10:19 AM

Karlok - 27 March 2021 07:42 AM

The conference poser says, “My field is the study of hispanogerontology, the illicit practice of giving seniors a new lease on life by turning them into Señors.”

That made me laugh. Clever.

I’d love a new lease on life. Especially as a man, I already know what it’s like to be a woman.

I wonder how many alternatives were written. Nice catch though luhr28 with poppycock.

Peacock is another one. I would never have thought of poppycock.
Speaking of cocks….

>put ring in synthesizer
We take off the ring.

We put the ring into the synthesizer.

>wave l-remover at clock
The clock gives way to the now-familiar cock.

The cock clucks.

>put cock in synthesizer
We put the cock into the synthesizer.

The cock lets out a half-crow.

The cock makes some attempts to flutter out of the synthesizer, but doesn’t get much lift and gives up for the moment.

>turn on synthesizer
The synthesizer hums like a microwave oven for 43 seconds, then pings. Inside there is a cock ring.

A sturdy ring of black rubber. Which reminds me — never mind.

There is a dismissive blatt from the monocle, and transposed over the cock ring is a faint, greenish image of a ring and a cock.

>get cock ring
We take the cock ring.

>wear it
Er. Our combined physique doesn’t allow for a place to put that.

>x it
A sturdy ring of black rubber. And no, I’m not going to tell you about that memory.

LOL!
Okay, let’s go to the Bureau

>go to bureau
We have a short walk as far as University Oval.

University Oval
This is the center of the university, a broad grassy oval shaded with sycamore trees and surrounded by buildings in brick or white stone.

Immediately south of here is the building where I spend most of my time, Samuel Johnson Hall.

We can also see a sin here.

There are a couple of officers lounging by the university gate. We won’t be able to go by without being seen.

As I’m taking this in, you notice hubbub behind us. We move out of the way as more officers escort Professor Higgate from the building.

“There’s been a mistake,” Higgate is saying coolly. “That conversation was conducted under a special license for research in constructed languages. I can produce a copy —”

The officer leading her says, “We’re acting on information.” He gives a quick, revealing glance in the direction of Professor Brown, who is also coming out of the building.

Don’t worry about me, I’m having a great time.

>insert flash drive in computer
That can’t contain things.

I had to restore a previous save but it was worth it.

>show cock ring to waterstone
Waterstone is unable to hear you through the closed door, which is presumably the purpose of closing it, so let’s try knocking instead.

Waterstone sees what we’ve made of the cock, and clutches desperately at his hair as though he’s going to tear it out in tufts. His eyes bulge and water. I’ve never seen the man so close to apoplexy.

I think that was exactly the wrong thing, somehow.

If anybody wants to try other interesting word combinations, I’m all for it. Back to Higgate’s predicament.

University Oval
This is the center of the university, a broad grassy oval shaded with sycamore trees and surrounded by buildings in brick or white stone.

Immediately south of here is the building where I spend most of my time, Samuel Johnson Hall.

We can also see a sin here.

There are a couple of officers lounging by the university gate. We won’t be able to go by without being seen.

As I’m taking this in, you notice hubbub behind us. We move out of the way as more officers escort Professor Higgate from the building.

“There’s been a mistake,” Higgate is saying coolly. “That conversation was conducted under a special license for research in constructed languages. I can produce a copy —”

The officer leading her says, “We’re acting on information.” He gives a quick, revealing glance in the direction of Professor Brown, who is also coming out of the building.

>x officers
I don’t see anyone I recognize. There are two escorting Higgate and two more at the oval gate, as backup — presumably in case she decided to make a run for it.

The monocle pings happily as we sight the officers with the crosshairs.

>x higgate
She mostly looks irritated, as though she thinks the Bureau has made an awkward mistake that will soon be set right. There’s a bit of a flush in her cheeks.

>x brown
He’s standing some feet away but not actually walking off. It’s not clear whether he expects the officers to ask him other questions, or whether he’s lurking — guiltily? gleefully? — to discover the outcome of his little tip.

When we try to meet his eye, he stares away at a tree.

>s
We might not want to attract attention if we can help it.

“Alex Rosehip,” says the officer with Higgate. The back of my neck prickles. “What can you tell me about his constructed language?”

Higgate stops moving forward and the officers stop with her. “It really is a masterpiece — the root words are all based on resources common in the tropics. Dirt and mud are highly productive terms, as are many common pests. The syllables are consonant-dense but still relatively easy to pronounce. In my view, it’s the most credible proposal ever put forward in utopian linguistics.”

The officer smiles faintly. “Isn’t that a bit like ‘the world’s most credible proposal for a perpetual motion engine’?”

>talk to officer
“Sir,” we begin.

“Back off, lady,” says the officer. “Unless you know where to find Alex Rosehip. You a friend of his?”

We shake our head, but something about our appearance and demeanor has the officer’s attention. “I see a little bit of a family resemblance, come to think of it,” he remarks.

“Everyone’s related to everyone,” Higgate says. “If you check into DNA studies of the island you’ll find that it’s extremely inbr—”

“Thank you, Professor Higgate, you can save the rest of your lecture for inside the van,” says the escorting officer. “And you come too,” he adds, to us.

That is, that’s what would have happened if we had done something so foolish. Shall we suppose we didn’t? >> yes

University Oval
[Previous turn undone.]

>wave r-remover at officers
We reset the device to r. The moment the officers change, two more come running through the gate. Might have known they wouldn’t be operating without backup.

One of them fires a restoration gel rifle into the group, restoring the officers to their original form. The other has an authentication scope and sweeps the grounds for signs of anything suspicious. We’re noticed and arrested almost at once.

“What is going on?” Higgate demands. Her glance skates over us. There’s a look in her eyes that says she has a guess who we are and she’s not at all eager to have that guess confirmed.

That is, that’s what would have happened if we had done something so foolish. Shall we suppose we didn’t? >> yes

University Oval
[Previous turn undone.]

Luhr28 - 27 March 2021 09:23 PM

Can we just wait and see what happens? It’s what I’d do. I’m not even sure why we’d want to interfere and rescue Higgate.

Because she’s arrested for speaking the language we, Alex, developed? That should not feel good. But it’s true, you can’t do anything to help her.

>z
Time crawls by. We’re looking as harmless and inattentive as humanly possible.

“Whether it works or not, I am sure it’s not intended as an attack on the Anglophone efficacy,” Higgate says. “Alex has a fine mind but very little gumption. And he loves Atlantis.”

“As far as you’re aware,” the officer replies.

“Obviously,” Higgate snaps. “I can only tell you what I know of Alex from five years of close supervision.”

The officers look at one another, then back at her. “We’re going to need to continue this conversation in depth.”

A stricken expression crosses Higgate’s face.

>z
Time crawls by.

“I’d like to make a call,” Higgate says.

“Not possible,” says the man at her elbow.

“I assert my right to a friendly witness,” she says firmly. They ignore her.

The officers sweep Higgate away into a windowless van. “Mobile Conversation Unit,” says the side of the van in bright cheery letters. “The Bureau Is Listening to YOU!”

The van pulls away into traffic. Brown strolls away in the other direction, not meeting anyone’s eye. It’s not easy getting tenure around here.

>go to bureau
We walk out from under the sycamores in the Oval and up Long Street over to Tall Street.
We get as far as Tall Street, but no further. The Bureau entrance is temporarily blocked by all the excited families on the stairs, trying to destroy the cardboard figure of Atlantida.

Tall Street
Tall Street is full of families, some reaching as far as the old park at the east end of the street.

They’re gathered around a hanging cardboard figure in front of the Bureau of Orthography. The children, and a few of the adults, are taking turns hitting it with sticks, hoping for a shower of comma-shaped candy. This is a common holiday activity, but from the disgruntled comments and the petulant expressions of the children, it has already been going on longer than is strictly fun.

Another child takes a whack at the hanging figure. She bounces away from the blow, but does not break.

>x figure
The figure is made of cardboard and papier-mâché, designed for children to hit with sticks until candy and treats fall out: it’s what would be called a piñata, if that weren’t a dangerous loan word.

This particular one is made in the shape of Atlantida. She wears Bureau blue and a surreal smile and her eyes have been painted on wrong.

The monocle pings happily as we sight the hanging Atlantida figure with the crosshairs.

>x children
There are children of all ages carrying sticks and blindfolds they brought from home, as well as bags to scoop up the candy when everything is over. Parents, looking variously indulgent or bored. A couple of bureau officials, come out from the Rotunda to make sure that everything goes well.

The monocle pings happily as we sight the assembled families with the crosshairs.

>wave y-remover at sticky
We reset the device to y. The sticky gives way to the now-familiar stick.

The latest child’s attack swings wide of the figure.

>hit atlantida with stick
It’s not sporting to strike the figure unless we are blindfolded; it’s part of the rules. If no official blindfold is forthcoming, we might be able to make do by wearing some appropriate strip of cloth.

The next child doesn’t seem to have been properly blindfolded and connects with surprising dexterity and sureness, but the thing doesn’t break.

>wave s-remover at sticks
I can’t see what you’re talking about.

>rub gel on banana
We dip out a pea-sized quantity of gel and rub it gently onto the banana. With an audible SPLORT, the banana becomes a bandana. It’s a souvenir: bright Atlantean blue cloth patterned with the letter f, and a patch in one corner with the letters FRG, honoring the members of the Fricatives Research Group.

Among a general rumble of assent, one of the fathers gives Atlantida a hard smack with a baseball bat. She doesn’t crack.

>wear bandana
We gently remove the monocle.

We tie the bandana over our eyes. To be honest, it only partially obscures our vision; we still have a pretty good idea where everything is.

Another child takes a whack at the hanging figure. She bounces away from the blow, but does not break.

>hit atlantida with stick
We take a good swing with the stick and connect, finally, with the hanging Atlantida figure.

There is a resounding crack!

The crowd roars with approval, and dozens of small bodies surge around us so that I almost lose our balance. We push our bandana up out of our way.

The ground is covered with glitter and candy and confetti; the Atlantida has broken open at the torso.

The children gather their heaps of candy and a few scoops of glittery confetti as well, but eventually trickle away again with their parents, returning through the park or down side streets or to their cars.

[Your score has gone up by three points and is now seventy-three.]

BTW, it is now sunset.

Rotunda
Echoing space, marble floor, eye-like skylight many meters above us: so far, the Rotunda might belong to any 19th-century government bureau of means and self-importance.

What sets this one apart is the lettering, each sigil no bigger than a flea, carved over every inch of the walls. Inscribed here is, in fact, the entire text of A New Orthodox Orthography. The administrative part of the bureau is away to the south, and there is an exhibit of letter tools to the east, which is open to the public.

Near the street entrance is a sizable informational bulletin-board advertising the services of the Bureau; and next to this, pushed back to be out of the way, is a bin. The bin contains a shuttle.

There is a long whistle, a peppery burst. The fireworks must have started outside.

>x bin
BUREAU PARKING, reads the bin, in thick black marker. DO NOT TAKE UNLESS AUTHORIZED.

In the bin is a shuttle.

>x shuttle
It’s a wooden device that holds a quantity of yarn, allowing the user more easily to pass the thread back and forth while weaving.

It is also a bit of a snarky joke on the Bureau’s part. Atlantean land prices being what they are, the Bureau prefers not to have to build a parking garage. Instead they have shuttles that an All-Purpose Officer with a homonym paddle can easily convert into a full-sized vehicle for use, and back again for easy storage.

The shuttles in their untransformed state are no earthly use to anyone else, of course, which is why they can be left around unsupervised.

>get it
We pick up the shuttle.

There is a distant roar like a hissing dragon.

>x bulletin board
What Can Your Bureau of Orthography Do For You? inquires the bulletin board, in a sprightly casual font.

On a sheet labeled From Plumbing to Medicine… “And More”, the bulletin board describes the tools available to the All-Purpose Officers, including a synthesizer for combining two word-objects into one; Q- and Z-inserters (most letters are still under development); and even specially licensed equipment capable of producing living creatures.

For immigration and importation services, such as assigning Atlantean names to immigrants, neutralizing foreign-language pets, and approving imported goods, we are encouraged to visit the Customs House instead.

A handwritten note is tacked up after this, which adds that the synthesizer is unavailable for public use through Dec. 19th because it is on loan to the university Department of Language Studies.