No comments on my last couple posts... How sad... I've been thinking of doing a contest to see who can get the most comments per post; something like 2 pts for one comment on a post, 3 pts for two comments on a post (as long as they aren't something like 'this comment is to get a pt!' and they aren't consecutive...) But I need a prize for the winner...
Part VIII: Jroldin
Date: Amanela 2nd, 114 A.U.
Jroldin slowly walked downstairs to the kitchen, wondering what they had for breakfast. They had been running out of food lately, and it always took a while for his dad to remember to get to the store. And as for Jroldin’s mom, Jroldin wasn’t completely sure what happened to her. The only thing that he knew was that she was gone, and that he had only vague impressions of her. Dad didn’t like to talk about it much.
Jroldin managed to find some slices of bread hiding in the drawer that had all the pots and pans. His dad usually liked to try to hide food there to make sure that he had something to eat and hadn’t yet found out that Jroldin had discovered it. Jroldin took two of the four slices and put them in the toaster before sitting down at the table, waiting for them to be done.
Leaning back in his chair, Jroldin took down the calendar and threw it away. It was a new year. Jroldin wasn’t sure that they had a new calendar for the year 114, and, after fruitlessly looking until the toast popped, Jroldin gave up and sat down again to eat his toast.
Glancing at his watch, which had the date on it, Jroldin started mentally counting the days to his seventeenth birthday and Naming Day. It was a dwarvish tradition never to name the child until his seventeenth birthday. Until then, the child just took his father’s or mother’s name and added the abbreviation for Junior, Jr, somewhere within his name. Sometimes their name could be kind of awkward, like with Jroldin’s friend Mjrark. And sometimes the name was near unpronounceable and so they’d just pick some nickname for them. Jroldin never completely understood this specific dwarvish tradition.
Jroldin wasn’t exactly sure what his dad was planning for naming day. Naming day was traditionally the day that the new dward adult moved out of the house and got a job and such, but his dad hadn’t talked about it at all, or if Jroldin would be able to choose his own name, as the tradition had developed at this time, or if he was going to go back to the old tradition of him just choosing his name. In fact, his dad hadn’t talked about Naming Day at all. Jroldin wondered if it was intentional.
Finishing his toast, Jroldin put his plate with the stack of plates in the sink and walked toward the counter, where he saw a note. He briefly scanned the note. Nothing interesting, just dad saying that he’d be later than usual, just as he’d been the last couple weeks. It figures. His dad was trying to work on some uber-secretive case, as always, and tended to be late.
Jroldin sat down on a couch and wondered what to do. Upon the ending of the last year, he was now in the awkward situation where he was done all of his schooling, but didn’t really have much to do since no one hired anyone younger than seventeen. At least in the dwarf section of Araelia. Jroldin pondered trying to get a job in the greater, human, section of Araelia. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for a dwarf. Jroldin shrugged; it wouldn’t be that long for naming day; I mean, he wasn’t one of those dwarves who had their naming day toward the end of the year and had a whole year free, so Jroldin didn’t worry about that.
Picking up the phone, Jroldin decided to call Mjrark to see what he was planning on doing today. Dialing his number, Jroldin waited for the phone to ring a couple times, before he remembered that it was kind of early in the morning, and Mjrark’s family generally slept in late. Just as he heard an angry voice say hello on the other end, Jroldin put the phone back on the receiver. He hoped that Mjrark’s family didn’t have caller ID.
At 11:03 sharp, three pairs of eyes watched Jroldin as he left the house to go to a meeting with his friends. Sitting in a parked car, the three men watched as Jroldin got into a hovercar and drove off.
“Follow him,” one of the men said, and the car soon revved up, and moved out into the street, tailing Jroldin.
“According to what he said to his friends on the phone, he’s going to the Marclay Arcade,” one of the other men said. “So we don’t have to follow him directly there. Just take another route.”
“Do you have the bug to plant on him?” another asked.
“Yeah,” one of them replied. “I’ve got it. It’ll be an easy job. Just go in, make a distraction, get the bug on him, and get out of there. We’ve done tougher things before.”
“Just so long as it works out fine,” he said. “Boss’ll be mad if we mess up this job.”
Jroldin swaggered into the Marclay Arcade, looking around for his friends. Spotting them, he jogged over to where they were in a group, trying to decide about what to do.
“They got some new shootin’ games over to the left,” Mjrark was saying. “Or we can continue our adventure at the Five4Fighting zone to the right.”
“New is good,” Jroldin said. “I say let’s try something new. Five4Fighting is gettin’ old.” As they continued to discuss what to do, Jroldin didn’t notice the man coming behind him. Too absorbed in his conversation, he didn’t notice the small antenna carefully placed in his hair. He did notice a man running away from the arcade, but he didn’t think much about it.
Perhaps he should have.
Question of the Week:What do you think should be a prize for a commenting contest?
Part VIII: Jroldin
Date: Amanela 2nd, 114 A.U.
Jroldin slowly walked downstairs to the kitchen, wondering what they had for breakfast. They had been running out of food lately, and it always took a while for his dad to remember to get to the store. And as for Jroldin’s mom, Jroldin wasn’t completely sure what happened to her. The only thing that he knew was that she was gone, and that he had only vague impressions of her. Dad didn’t like to talk about it much.
Jroldin managed to find some slices of bread hiding in the drawer that had all the pots and pans. His dad usually liked to try to hide food there to make sure that he had something to eat and hadn’t yet found out that Jroldin had discovered it. Jroldin took two of the four slices and put them in the toaster before sitting down at the table, waiting for them to be done.
Leaning back in his chair, Jroldin took down the calendar and threw it away. It was a new year. Jroldin wasn’t sure that they had a new calendar for the year 114, and, after fruitlessly looking until the toast popped, Jroldin gave up and sat down again to eat his toast.
Glancing at his watch, which had the date on it, Jroldin started mentally counting the days to his seventeenth birthday and Naming Day. It was a dwarvish tradition never to name the child until his seventeenth birthday. Until then, the child just took his father’s or mother’s name and added the abbreviation for Junior, Jr, somewhere within his name. Sometimes their name could be kind of awkward, like with Jroldin’s friend Mjrark. And sometimes the name was near unpronounceable and so they’d just pick some nickname for them. Jroldin never completely understood this specific dwarvish tradition.
Jroldin wasn’t exactly sure what his dad was planning for naming day. Naming day was traditionally the day that the new dward adult moved out of the house and got a job and such, but his dad hadn’t talked about it at all, or if Jroldin would be able to choose his own name, as the tradition had developed at this time, or if he was going to go back to the old tradition of him just choosing his name. In fact, his dad hadn’t talked about Naming Day at all. Jroldin wondered if it was intentional.
Finishing his toast, Jroldin put his plate with the stack of plates in the sink and walked toward the counter, where he saw a note. He briefly scanned the note. Nothing interesting, just dad saying that he’d be later than usual, just as he’d been the last couple weeks. It figures. His dad was trying to work on some uber-secretive case, as always, and tended to be late.
Jroldin sat down on a couch and wondered what to do. Upon the ending of the last year, he was now in the awkward situation where he was done all of his schooling, but didn’t really have much to do since no one hired anyone younger than seventeen. At least in the dwarf section of Araelia. Jroldin pondered trying to get a job in the greater, human, section of Araelia. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for a dwarf. Jroldin shrugged; it wouldn’t be that long for naming day; I mean, he wasn’t one of those dwarves who had their naming day toward the end of the year and had a whole year free, so Jroldin didn’t worry about that.
Picking up the phone, Jroldin decided to call Mjrark to see what he was planning on doing today. Dialing his number, Jroldin waited for the phone to ring a couple times, before he remembered that it was kind of early in the morning, and Mjrark’s family generally slept in late. Just as he heard an angry voice say hello on the other end, Jroldin put the phone back on the receiver. He hoped that Mjrark’s family didn’t have caller ID.
At 11:03 sharp, three pairs of eyes watched Jroldin as he left the house to go to a meeting with his friends. Sitting in a parked car, the three men watched as Jroldin got into a hovercar and drove off.
“Follow him,” one of the men said, and the car soon revved up, and moved out into the street, tailing Jroldin.
“According to what he said to his friends on the phone, he’s going to the Marclay Arcade,” one of the other men said. “So we don’t have to follow him directly there. Just take another route.”
“Do you have the bug to plant on him?” another asked.
“Yeah,” one of them replied. “I’ve got it. It’ll be an easy job. Just go in, make a distraction, get the bug on him, and get out of there. We’ve done tougher things before.”
“Just so long as it works out fine,” he said. “Boss’ll be mad if we mess up this job.”
Jroldin swaggered into the Marclay Arcade, looking around for his friends. Spotting them, he jogged over to where they were in a group, trying to decide about what to do.
“They got some new shootin’ games over to the left,” Mjrark was saying. “Or we can continue our adventure at the Five4Fighting zone to the right.”
“New is good,” Jroldin said. “I say let’s try something new. Five4Fighting is gettin’ old.” As they continued to discuss what to do, Jroldin didn’t notice the man coming behind him. Too absorbed in his conversation, he didn’t notice the small antenna carefully placed in his hair. He did notice a man running away from the arcade, but he didn’t think much about it.
Perhaps he should have.
Question of the Week:What do you think should be a prize for a commenting contest?
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