Expanding on this, here's the (current) first scene of Chapter Three. (Maybe I should do some more work on Chapter One...)
Somewhere over the Indian Ocean. Friday, May 16, 1890. 2:00 PM Local Time.
We had been crammed into the Gratan for nearly a week, and Ayerton was really getting on my nerves. But what else was new? Unfortunately, I couldn't get far enough away from him without wasting fuel that I couldn't easily replenish just now, and there was no telling when another Garfish might surface and take a potshot at us.
"But of course Jean should be allowed to present his feelings for Nadia to her in song!"
"I've explained to you three times already why that's a bad idea, Ayerton." He reminded me of most of the gods I had met, except that he didn't have the power to back up his childish attitude, thank the Norns.
"I'm sure that you're just not trying hard enough to overcome that little problem, Mr. Sangnoir. Look at me - I was able to overcome my upbringing and learn how to cook."
Hanson and Sanson both looked at Ayerton as if he was an idiot. (He is an idiot, but that's beside the point.) Sanson beat Hanson and me to the reply. "Do you seriously believe that the your upbringing is at all comprable to Sangnoir's physical limitation?"
"There are two kinds of people in this world, Sanson: those who are confined by their limitations, and those who can rise above them. Obviously, Mr. Sangnoir is one of the first kind of people, while I am one of the second."
I noticed Hanson gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Sanson's body language told me that he was about to stand up. They both looked upset.
Naturally, this went right over Ayerton's head. He had turned back to me. "But perhaps it isn't your fault that you can't rise above your limitations, Mr. Sangnoir. There is a difference in breeding between us. You're only a commoner, from base common stock. I, however, am an English count."
Now I was really upset. I might not be on good terms with my parents, but they're still my family. How dare this ... popinjay insult them sight unseen? "You're a count? Count this!" I grabbed his head with one hand, and started talking with a bad Transylvanian accent as I slammed his head into the bulkhead. "One! Ah-ha-ha-ha!" I slammed his head into the bulkhead again. "Two! Ah-ha-ha-ha!" And again. "Three! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"
Before I could work all of my anger at the idiot out of my system, Hanson cleared his throat and looked straight at me. "Doug."
"What is is, Hanson? Can't you see that I'm busy?"
"Well ... You're making it hard to keep the Gratan stable."
"Oh." I let go of Ayerton, who crawled off to the other side of the compartment. "Sorry about that."
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
Somewhere over the Indian Ocean. Friday, May 16, 1890. 2:00 PM Local Time.
We had been crammed into the Gratan for nearly a week, and Ayerton was really getting on my nerves. But what else was new? Unfortunately, I couldn't get far enough away from him without wasting fuel that I couldn't easily replenish just now, and there was no telling when another Garfish might surface and take a potshot at us.
"But of course Jean should be allowed to present his feelings for Nadia to her in song!"
"I've explained to you three times already why that's a bad idea, Ayerton." He reminded me of most of the gods I had met, except that he didn't have the power to back up his childish attitude, thank the Norns.
"I'm sure that you're just not trying hard enough to overcome that little problem, Mr. Sangnoir. Look at me - I was able to overcome my upbringing and learn how to cook."
Hanson and Sanson both looked at Ayerton as if he was an idiot. (He is an idiot, but that's beside the point.) Sanson beat Hanson and me to the reply. "Do you seriously believe that the your upbringing is at all comprable to Sangnoir's physical limitation?"
"There are two kinds of people in this world, Sanson: those who are confined by their limitations, and those who can rise above them. Obviously, Mr. Sangnoir is one of the first kind of people, while I am one of the second."
I noticed Hanson gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Sanson's body language told me that he was about to stand up. They both looked upset.
Naturally, this went right over Ayerton's head. He had turned back to me. "But perhaps it isn't your fault that you can't rise above your limitations, Mr. Sangnoir. There is a difference in breeding between us. You're only a commoner, from base common stock. I, however, am an English count."
Now I was really upset. I might not be on good terms with my parents, but they're still my family. How dare this ... popinjay insult them sight unseen? "You're a count? Count this!" I grabbed his head with one hand, and started talking with a bad Transylvanian accent as I slammed his head into the bulkhead. "One! Ah-ha-ha-ha!" I slammed his head into the bulkhead again. "Two! Ah-ha-ha-ha!" And again. "Three! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"
Before I could work all of my anger at the idiot out of my system, Hanson cleared his throat and looked straight at me. "Doug."
"What is is, Hanson? Can't you see that I'm busy?"
"Well ... You're making it hard to keep the Gratan stable."
"Oh." I let go of Ayerton, who crawled off to the other side of the compartment. "Sorry about that."
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012