Path: news.cac.psu.edu!usenet
From: [email protected] (Zeitgeyser)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk
Subject: Re: psycho (psukhe)
Date: 31 Oct 1995 14:13:35 GMT
Organization: PocketU
Lines: 142
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
References: <[email protected]>

<[email protected]> <[email protected]>
NNTP-Posting-Host: cadillac.soc.psu.edu
X-Authinfo-User: [email protected]
X-Posted-From: InterNews [email protected]
X-Authenticated: jmg139 on INN host hearst.cac.psu.edu

In article <[email protected]>
[email protected] (Lisa Walton) writes:

> In article <[email protected]>,
> Sweet Poly wrote:
> [...]
> >Zeitgeyser is sitting in a dejected-looking heap on the steps, the
> >first-aid daemons hovering anxiously nearby. He's got a couple of black
> >eyes, and various other bruises and lacerations -- the point on his head
> >has a big lump on it, and he's sobbing into his pith helmet, streaking
> >the dust on his face.
> >
> >Sourcerer is sitting not too far away, looking pretty miserable himself,
> >stony and silent, stoically waiting for Poly, and the thrashing he knows
> >he probably deserves.
> >
> >The punks on the porch avoid looking at her and one another, shifting
> >their feet uneasily.
> >
> >She pauses by Zeitgeyser, pats him cheerfully on his shoulder, and says:
> >"Get a grip, Zeitgeyser. You wanna play with this bunch, you gotta roll
> >with the punches. No harm done, no offense taken. Now toddle inside with
> >the nice daemons -- they won't hurt you -- and get some ice for that
> >bump..."
>
> A great clattering surrounds Sym as he climbs down from the roof,
> shivering and muttering at being forced to spend so much time up in
> the sky collecting the ice crystals that Lisa insisted were necessary
> for the cure.

Zeitgeyser looks up - startled from his misery. Oh God! As if things
couldn't get any worse! He sees Sym bearing down on him from above in
a swirl of leathery wings and ice crystals (small ruby glittering just
under his left eye). The gargoyle was upon him before he could react.


> Shoving aside the futilely meeping bots, he creates a
> small icestorm around Zeitgeyser, scouring away the dust and cleaning
> his wounds. Seething with frustration and incoherant rage, Zeitgeyser
> bellows and reaches for the grinning gargoyle, who dances nimbly out
> of reach, trailing ice whirls. Grasping nothing but snow, he hurls it
> furiously at the chortling creature.

No time to think. Snowballs form magically in his hands he flings them
as fast as he can make them - anything to keep the terrifying creature
at bay. The last time they'd met Sym had almost done him in.

> Lisa watches from the Roof as Zeitgeyser and Sym indulge in a furious
> snowball fight, with Sym taking an apparantly serious pummeling, esp
> after Lisa interrupted one frisky evasion with The Look...
>
> Feeling exhausted but better, Zeitgeyser returns to the porch and
> happily accepts a steaming mug. "You're doing good there Zeit", Lisa
> says as she directs the med-bots to give him an extra-deep massage.

Whew! That's better! Things weren't so dark after all - nothing like
a good old fashioned snowball fight to pull you out of the dumps and
get the blood pumping! He takes a big draught of the brew in the mug
and makes a face. What th' hell was in this stuff?

> "You wandered up to the Ranch, managed not to get eaten by Sym",
> dropping to a whisper, "he actually likes you I think".

Z eyes the gargoyle suspiciously. "Well maybe but he still scares me."

> As they watch the gargoyle frolic in the temporary snow, juggling
> iceballs with his toes, she continues "You also courageously waded
> into the endless and occasionally hopelessly tangled threads, and got
> yourself involved. Congrats!"
>
> Zeitgeyser smiles and blearily hiccups as the heated alcohol warms
> everything, even his twitching toes. He experimentally tries to pick
> up an ice ball with them, wondering what it would be like to have
> talons. Lisa smiles and leaves him to it, confident that he is doing
> better.

Much better. Thank you. (still watching Sym with a mixture of caution
and admiration - how the hell doe he *do* that?)

> Her voices echos down to him as she begins her ascent "Keep it up, and
> maybe it'll encourage other lurkers to make it further than The Roof
> or the Front Lawn. Even from up here the stench from the noxious KF
> Tar Pits and the eerie howls from the flame dancers and troll-eaters
> patrolling the vast wilderness to the south are pretty intimidating."

"Don't I know it!" he hollers back up to her. "Getting there is half
the fun." The second sip from the mug is not quite as startling as the
first. Yeah he could learn to like it.

> Up on the roof, Lisa luxuriates in the cleansing cold of the
> Sym-storm, licking crystals from the stained-glass windows and
> creating new hues and patterns with her heated breath.
>
> Somewhere, as from a fast distance, she hears shrieking and sounds of
> some vast confusion...
>
> [...]
>
> >I can't handle the stress of
> >worrying about all of you while I'm gone. Meantime, though, take this
> >switch, and whap the side of this woodshed real loud with it, and scream
> >and holler -- like you mean it, so the punks think I'm really giving you a
> >hard time, and haven't turned into a softie.
> >
> >Sourcerer meekly does as he's told, shrieking believably, while Poly
> >watches from her perch on a keg of nails, and lights a joint, trying to
> >snag some relaxation time in a *very* busy day. She's got *packing* to
> >do...
> >
> >While Sourcerer screams bloody murder (making the punks shudder), she
> >ponders the wisdom of her post to Ross (see what you started, Ross?
> >). She'd had only the best intentions, and look what happened...
>
> Something of sorrow, (mis)understanding, and candor. Honest expression
> and an honest act of contrition. Something real. Something gained.
>
> Lisa, dreaming on the roof, realizes that she has lots of packing to
> *undo*, and, drawing the moment of relaxation and silence into
> herself, quietly slips off into the night.
>
> Meanwhile Sym, the caretaker of her dreams, gamboles endlessly under a
> starless sky, reveling in the clarity, in the cold, and the silence.
>
> Lisa

Z watches Sym take to the air, marveling at how such a fearsom creature
could look for all the world like a kittin with a ball of string - in
mid-air no less! He takes another big sip and listens to the fearful
howl Sourcerer is putting up around back. He shivers and makes a
mental note to himself to not make Poly mad. Anyone who could take
Sourcerer to the woodshed is a *force* to reckoned with.


**********************************************************************
Zeitgeyser - the Old Faithful of pop culture

"Unity is always at least two"
(Buckminster Fuller)

The trouble with anarchy is that it
ALWAYS degenerates into government (me, heehee)
**********************************************************************

[Next appendix] | [Return to index for Appendix A6] | [Return to index for Appendix A]