Well, doesn't time fly....
It's a new year here in Caledon, so effort should be made.
Having lost my diary (though recovered my pants) in a lava cave, then the island sank, it's only know (thanks to the meddlings of Lightfoot returning this tomb to me) I'm able to put pen to paper.
Have things advanced in our quest to return home?
Yes, and a most emphatic no.
New players have appeared on the scene, this 'friend' of Lady Darklings called The Jinn. Cornelia has had a tragedy and (as a consequence) we have had a minor revelation. Drillon is around less and less these days. Sen keeps herself busy with work. I have not seen Sollis since before we went to the island. Kira is growing up, quickly, and has a heart troubled with tribulations of teenage love. Terry is Terry, I'd be lost without her and never tire of her stabilising influence (though I wish she'd close some damn doors sometimes). Alfonso is stoic, spending much time in his laboratory, and Fuchia potters on, scattering dust on cotton and silk. Lapin is a dame now, and spends her days with her art. The ETC is as well as can be, and I have opened up the gardens and the aquarium to give us more space and a place away from the hussle of Caledon prime.
I will try to write more, as time and tide permit, but it is often difficult with so much to do.
Our goal has not changed. We will leave this place. Tempting though it is to get swept along by new found friends and cinematic fancies. For now we earn a living and keep trying.
More soon (with luck).
O
Showing posts with label caledon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label caledon. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Friday, June 01, 2007
Commodore Sputnik?
Ever thought about a career at sea? No? Me neither, well, until today that is.
I used to sail on the great canals in the Citadel on Gallifrey. The Admiral dropped me a boat last week, a three manner really but with sympathetic lines, and it was like second nature all over again.
Now I'm not saying anyone planned this, but when the Guvnah and Admiral Wind asked me would I like to take up a position in the ranks, and hinted I could ditch the Colonel thing like a hot brick in exchange for the rank of Commodore, it fair peaked my curiosity.
So. Fancy a spanky new uniform and loads of other goodies? Come join the navy. We're like the Caledon boosters, running events for Caledon, with rum and really big hats.
We're having a recruitment event at the Salty Mermaid by the hub in Kittiwickshire. Come down and get yourself some grog. It's a free bar from 2pm SLT 'till 6. The 9th of June. So come on down for dancing, games, fun, and grog. 2pm SLT, 'till 6 (or 'till we drink the bar dry). Prizes for best arm wrestler!
The navy will be doing it's bit for Caledon. Come on over, find out more, and join in the wholesome nautical shinaigans. We need you to help us run events and social gatherings on behalf of Caledon and good Admiral Shang. Charity events, sim anniversaries, you name it.
Ranks are open for good lads and lasses. Please do come along as it will save unfortunate press-ganging issues at a later date. All the nice girls, boys, and furry creatures of indeterminate gender, love a sailor (so I'm told).
I used to sail on the great canals in the Citadel on Gallifrey. The Admiral dropped me a boat last week, a three manner really but with sympathetic lines, and it was like second nature all over again.
Now I'm not saying anyone planned this, but when the Guvnah and Admiral Wind asked me would I like to take up a position in the ranks, and hinted I could ditch the Colonel thing like a hot brick in exchange for the rank of Commodore, it fair peaked my curiosity.
So. Fancy a spanky new uniform and loads of other goodies? Come join the navy. We're like the Caledon boosters, running events for Caledon, with rum and really big hats.
We're having a recruitment event at the Salty Mermaid by the hub in Kittiwickshire. Come down and get yourself some grog. It's a free bar from 2pm SLT 'till 6. The 9th of June. So come on down for dancing, games, fun, and grog. 2pm SLT, 'till 6 (or 'till we drink the bar dry). Prizes for best arm wrestler!
The navy will be doing it's bit for Caledon. Come on over, find out more, and join in the wholesome nautical shinaigans. We need you to help us run events and social gatherings on behalf of Caledon and good Admiral Shang. Charity events, sim anniversaries, you name it.
Ranks are open for good lads and lasses. Please do come along as it will save unfortunate press-ganging issues at a later date. All the nice girls, boys, and furry creatures of indeterminate gender, love a sailor (so I'm told).
Monday, May 28, 2007
Jolly Good Night
Bit of a costumed celebration last night in aid of a worthy cause. Took the old cinematograph with me and burnt off a couple of reels.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Primative Damn Planet
Zealot has beaten Kira for helping the Keiserin. I've been so busy, to my shame I hadn't noticed.
I'm sworn not to interfere while we are here, nor to voice my opinion in any public forum. My mantra must be "each to their own".
Poor child. I gave her some ointment for her back, just something so it won't scar and should heal up quicker.
This isn't the first time I've seen this sort of thing either. In truth it is not Zealot himself is to blame. Beneath the veneer of Caledon civility is a dark and seedy den of what, to my somewhat modern eye, could be see as nothing short of cruelty. Ironic, when this is heralded as the beacon of civility on this primative flat world. Here an unsung percentage are kept in collars and chains, beaten and tortured, and yet simply see this as part of life and inevitable part of their 'Victorian' existence.
Kira showed no malice to Zealot in this, simply shrugging it off in the belief that she knew the risks and accepts her punishment accordingly. I can not comment. What kind of creature can honestly sanction the punishment of a child in this way, and for kindness at that? To these people this is the norm! Incredible.
He is not to blame, he is a product of his environment. Zealot is driven by far greater things that I fear mortal man was not meant to what-the-what of. It is this uncivilised rock that is at fault. I'm sure that one good solar flare is all it would take.
How I miss Gallifrey on days like these.
I'm sworn not to interfere while we are here, nor to voice my opinion in any public forum. My mantra must be "each to their own".
Poor child. I gave her some ointment for her back, just something so it won't scar and should heal up quicker.
This isn't the first time I've seen this sort of thing either. In truth it is not Zealot himself is to blame. Beneath the veneer of Caledon civility is a dark and seedy den of what, to my somewhat modern eye, could be see as nothing short of cruelty. Ironic, when this is heralded as the beacon of civility on this primative flat world. Here an unsung percentage are kept in collars and chains, beaten and tortured, and yet simply see this as part of life and inevitable part of their 'Victorian' existence.
Kira showed no malice to Zealot in this, simply shrugging it off in the belief that she knew the risks and accepts her punishment accordingly. I can not comment. What kind of creature can honestly sanction the punishment of a child in this way, and for kindness at that? To these people this is the norm! Incredible.
He is not to blame, he is a product of his environment. Zealot is driven by far greater things that I fear mortal man was not meant to what-the-what of. It is this uncivilised rock that is at fault. I'm sure that one good solar flare is all it would take.
How I miss Gallifrey on days like these.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Monday, May 07, 2007
The Day After
I popped out for some milk and a few bits then walked slowly back to Mayfair. The shops are still open, with the stiffest of upper lips, but Victoria smells like burning prims. What a mess.
Left a jar of anchovy butter on Kiras swing for her. Bardhaven looked particularly quiet, and only a chambermaid could be seen stowicly going about her duties.
Sat on the ches longue in the console room reading a book for a few hours, then got back to work on the cabinet.
Began the bulk processing, but I'll look at the footage tomorrow. There's a lot, and most of it will be unusable. I need a clear head, a bit more sleep, and a few spare hours.
Left a jar of anchovy butter on Kiras swing for her. Bardhaven looked particularly quiet, and only a chambermaid could be seen stowicly going about her duties.
Sat on the ches longue in the console room reading a book for a few hours, then got back to work on the cabinet.
Began the bulk processing, but I'll look at the footage tomorrow. There's a lot, and most of it will be unusable. I need a clear head, a bit more sleep, and a few spare hours.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Neaualtenburg Attacks
I have, what is known in military circles, as a banging headache this morning.
There were shenanigans last night. Many shenanigans.
I was with Virrginia when the balloon went up. We were moving barrels of mercury into the ETC (for use in her fluid links), and before I knew it I grabbed a camera and found myself in the back seat of an Ornithopter, clutching a map, flying low level over Primveness looking for enemy troops. They were coming in from the East. We did a couple of fly-bys, Virriginia using the trees for cover, and there were plenty of them down there with heavy artillery in tow. There was little we could do, they had the benefit of cover, so we headed for the Guvnahs Manson in Victoria City and V set her down on the roof from where we took up small arms positions. Her with her derringer (and at one particularly hairy point the Vickers out of the cockpit) and myself with my 'N & G' Kinematograph.
Caledon forces were prepared, however, and a running gun battle ensued through the streets below for an hour or more. Brave souls all. The heavy shelling certainly took it's toll on the buildings and I managed to grab a few cans of footage between the smoke as Neaualtenburg troops took the Guvnahs Mansion beneath us. Interestingly, from our vantage point, I could also see Mr Zealot silhouetted by the sun, watching proceedings from the roof of Lady Ambers Boutique.
It was during this time we heard reports of the airship, SMS Brynhilde, moving in and the air cavalry suddenly had something tangible to act upon. With some already damaged, only half the squadron mustered against the vast air dreadnought, but with a determination rarely seen. She is a great armoured beast and no mistake. The open top Ornies, however, are far more manouverable than her large scale gunnery and she was reliant on rifle fire from the decks to bring us down.
Many won't simply know of the battle that ensued, one that probably saved Victoria City from total annihilation. I think it is the likes of the Caledon air forces that are the unsung heroes of this tragic day. If the Brynhilde had been allowed to bring her full payload to bear on the capital the tragedy would have been immeasurable and a future political solution unobtainable. True heroes all.
It was here the Orni took a hit. I remember Virrginia shouting jump, trying to protect the camera, the jerk of the chute canopy opening, but that's all.
Virriginia is well, I spoke to her this morning. I suppose she's used to this kind of thing. I have a hell of a headache and a vivid black bruise covering most of my right side of my neck and face. Victoria city is still burning. I need to sleep this off if at all possible. I will stay in the ETC today. Keep myself to myself.
I look forward to developing some of this footage when time and headache finally allows, and hope it can show how the real people of Caledon made a difference last night. Such a tragedy it has come this.
There were shenanigans last night. Many shenanigans.
I was with Virrginia when the balloon went up. We were moving barrels of mercury into the ETC (for use in her fluid links), and before I knew it I grabbed a camera and found myself in the back seat of an Ornithopter, clutching a map, flying low level over Primveness looking for enemy troops. They were coming in from the East. We did a couple of fly-bys, Virriginia using the trees for cover, and there were plenty of them down there with heavy artillery in tow. There was little we could do, they had the benefit of cover, so we headed for the Guvnahs Manson in Victoria City and V set her down on the roof from where we took up small arms positions. Her with her derringer (and at one particularly hairy point the Vickers out of the cockpit) and myself with my 'N & G' Kinematograph.
Caledon forces were prepared, however, and a running gun battle ensued through the streets below for an hour or more. Brave souls all. The heavy shelling certainly took it's toll on the buildings and I managed to grab a few cans of footage between the smoke as Neaualtenburg troops took the Guvnahs Mansion beneath us. Interestingly, from our vantage point, I could also see Mr Zealot silhouetted by the sun, watching proceedings from the roof of Lady Ambers Boutique.
It was during this time we heard reports of the airship, SMS Brynhilde, moving in and the air cavalry suddenly had something tangible to act upon. With some already damaged, only half the squadron mustered against the vast air dreadnought, but with a determination rarely seen. She is a great armoured beast and no mistake. The open top Ornies, however, are far more manouverable than her large scale gunnery and she was reliant on rifle fire from the decks to bring us down.
Many won't simply know of the battle that ensued, one that probably saved Victoria City from total annihilation. I think it is the likes of the Caledon air forces that are the unsung heroes of this tragic day. If the Brynhilde had been allowed to bring her full payload to bear on the capital the tragedy would have been immeasurable and a future political solution unobtainable. True heroes all.
It was here the Orni took a hit. I remember Virrginia shouting jump, trying to protect the camera, the jerk of the chute canopy opening, but that's all.
Virriginia is well, I spoke to her this morning. I suppose she's used to this kind of thing. I have a hell of a headache and a vivid black bruise covering most of my right side of my neck and face. Victoria city is still burning. I need to sleep this off if at all possible. I will stay in the ETC today. Keep myself to myself.
I look forward to developing some of this footage when time and headache finally allows, and hope it can show how the real people of Caledon made a difference last night. Such a tragedy it has come this.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
The Doctor is In
Work is going well on the ETC, I had checked on the chaps and chapesses around the Guvnahs mansion (leaving a cunningly transformed Terry with a close eye on group of rather 'enthusiastic' weasels), and I decided to take a break onto a small personal project.
I was ensconced in the Mayfair Studio until the wee small hours, changing my Panoptikon to a Eidoloscope. This is a simple but delicate task, adding a basic intermittent mechanism to keep the two-inch film moved continuously during showing and improve the reliability of frame rate.
Being a glass house (for the excellent coastal light it provides), the studio affords a splendid outlook. Eventually, my attention was unavoidably drawn to the road outside where Miss Kelley had been walking backward and forwards for sometime, seemingly reciting dialogue and practising a cough. Having my hands full I allowed her to continue a while, I have no desire to become embroiled in amateur dramatics, and eventually she approached the door.
It's always nice to see her. She is a ray of sunshine. But this evening she came with grave news.
For sometime now Zealot has referred to me as Doctor Sputnik. I have no idea why. I do hold several doctorates, and a professorship or two, but they are from the Academy on Gallifrey and if Zealot knew about them I'd be worried indeed. Not that Zealot doesn't worry me I hasten to add.
Young Miss Kelly had taken this title to be literal, and was in search of a medical practitioner. It appears 'our mutual friend' is not fairing well by her treatment under capture.
I wasn't the sharpest tool in the old woodshed when at The Academy, not by the standards of my peers, but a distinction in Micro Cellular Biology I did mange to scrape and I can slap on a trauma bandage with the best of them. When we first arrived here I resolved to keep myself and Terry healthy with a regular dose of panacea to keep out the diseases of the Victorian age. Nothing is infallible, I have heard of some nasty viral stuff called 'grey goo' on the mainland that I have yet to examine, but it's a start. Typhoid, tuberculosis, smallpox, cholera, the sniffles, hayfever, even syphilis (god forbid) are all simple stuff to remedy with the power of a time travellers hindsight.
We nipped into the Cabinet and I added some base vitamins, a general restorative of future extraction, some peppermint essence and a slow release food supplement.
Within a few minutes she was on her way over the fences, back across Mayfair to Bardhaven. In the name of the First President I prey nothing bad befalls that girl. She is taking a terrible risk and we are so very powerless to interfere.
I tried to get some sleep but couldn't meditate. Even the Zero Room seemed full of psychic static. Next time I see her, I really must give her a transmat bracelet just in case.
I was ensconced in the Mayfair Studio until the wee small hours, changing my Panoptikon to a Eidoloscope. This is a simple but delicate task, adding a basic intermittent mechanism to keep the two-inch film moved continuously during showing and improve the reliability of frame rate.
Being a glass house (for the excellent coastal light it provides), the studio affords a splendid outlook. Eventually, my attention was unavoidably drawn to the road outside where Miss Kelley had been walking backward and forwards for sometime, seemingly reciting dialogue and practising a cough. Having my hands full I allowed her to continue a while, I have no desire to become embroiled in amateur dramatics, and eventually she approached the door.
It's always nice to see her. She is a ray of sunshine. But this evening she came with grave news.
For sometime now Zealot has referred to me as Doctor Sputnik. I have no idea why. I do hold several doctorates, and a professorship or two, but they are from the Academy on Gallifrey and if Zealot knew about them I'd be worried indeed. Not that Zealot doesn't worry me I hasten to add.
Young Miss Kelly had taken this title to be literal, and was in search of a medical practitioner. It appears 'our mutual friend' is not fairing well by her treatment under capture.
I wasn't the sharpest tool in the old woodshed when at The Academy, not by the standards of my peers, but a distinction in Micro Cellular Biology I did mange to scrape and I can slap on a trauma bandage with the best of them. When we first arrived here I resolved to keep myself and Terry healthy with a regular dose of panacea to keep out the diseases of the Victorian age. Nothing is infallible, I have heard of some nasty viral stuff called 'grey goo' on the mainland that I have yet to examine, but it's a start. Typhoid, tuberculosis, smallpox, cholera, the sniffles, hayfever, even syphilis (god forbid) are all simple stuff to remedy with the power of a time travellers hindsight.
We nipped into the Cabinet and I added some base vitamins, a general restorative of future extraction, some peppermint essence and a slow release food supplement.
Within a few minutes she was on her way over the fences, back across Mayfair to Bardhaven. In the name of the First President I prey nothing bad befalls that girl. She is taking a terrible risk and we are so very powerless to interfere.
I tried to get some sleep but couldn't meditate. Even the Zero Room seemed full of psychic static. Next time I see her, I really must give her a transmat bracelet just in case.
Propaganda
It doesn't look like Neualtenburgh is going to take this lying down...
...and right they are too. Citizens, find your nearest recruiting station and sign up. This is far from over.
...and right they are too. Citizens, find your nearest recruiting station and sign up. This is far from over.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Pressed into Service
The Guvnah has had a death threat. Incredible.
I've not really mentioned this in these pages before, or even in public, but I am sometimes cursed with a mild affliction. Tinyhood.
It seems that my regenerative DNA is particularly prone to the magical influences of Tanglewood, the Caledon woodland territory, and upon entry a 'startling metamorphosis occurs'. Hence me not getting down to HQ much. Truly, this a strange and magical place.
Terry, in between initial fits of laughter, assures me this more common than I would have previously though. It seems others are prone to the same involuntary shape-shifting whimsy. Ironic, but I do seem to have maintained my Time Lord wits about me, and the disproportionate strength indicative of my species. This, so far, has stopped most people taking the Michael.
Luckily this process is reversed once I come under the psychic field of the ETC, leaving only a hankering for the great outdoors and a slight smell of acorns on my breath. So far I have kept this from Drillon who would have a field day on the matter.
/sighs
And so it is, in my unwilling role as 'Colonel', I have been called to action. I have for a while been forming a unit of likely diminutive souls, and it's good for the fae and the rodents to have something to keep them out of trouble. The Shang has now pressed us into service.
I am honoured to say, the 'Tanglewood Gun Bunnys' will now form a part of the Guvnahs personal guard. Assorted heavily armed hedgerow creatures are now stationed around the mansion and with his-knibs at all times.
Heaven help us all.
I've not really mentioned this in these pages before, or even in public, but I am sometimes cursed with a mild affliction. Tinyhood.
It seems that my regenerative DNA is particularly prone to the magical influences of Tanglewood, the Caledon woodland territory, and upon entry a 'startling metamorphosis occurs'. Hence me not getting down to HQ much. Truly, this a strange and magical place.
Terry, in between initial fits of laughter, assures me this more common than I would have previously though. It seems others are prone to the same involuntary shape-shifting whimsy. Ironic, but I do seem to have maintained my Time Lord wits about me, and the disproportionate strength indicative of my species. This, so far, has stopped most people taking the Michael.
Luckily this process is reversed once I come under the psychic field of the ETC, leaving only a hankering for the great outdoors and a slight smell of acorns on my breath. So far I have kept this from Drillon who would have a field day on the matter.
/sighs
And so it is, in my unwilling role as 'Colonel', I have been called to action. I have for a while been forming a unit of likely diminutive souls, and it's good for the fae and the rodents to have something to keep them out of trouble. The Shang has now pressed us into service.
I am honoured to say, the 'Tanglewood Gun Bunnys' will now form a part of the Guvnahs personal guard. Assorted heavily armed hedgerow creatures are now stationed around the mansion and with his-knibs at all times.
Heaven help us all.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
A Late Visitor
I had a visitor last night.
Often of late I have found myself in conversation with Miss Kelley. She is a most charming creature, very pleasant, that reminds me much of the New Earth felines of 5,000,000,000. She is, I am told, not entirely indicative of her species, having at least the veneer of Victorian sensibility. She is quick of eye, strong in spirit, has an adventurous streak a mile wide, yet wraps herself in pretty crinolines with seemingly little comfort but the greatest of pride.
She visited me in the ETC to bring me news and share my supper. She had never visited us properly and as I showed around our home, Terry currently being away visiting the Dracoforms and having missed the excitement of the last few days, she gazed wide-eyed at the workings of the ETC. I took her over to New Babbage, and we walked and talked a while in relative safety.
When one spends time with her, one soon begins to realise how frightened she is of reprisal by her Master Zealot. In my opinion, a cat should not have a master...
...I will say no more, but suffice to say, she's a very brave young lady.
Caledon and Neualtenburgh owe her more than they may ever know.
Often of late I have found myself in conversation with Miss Kelley. She is a most charming creature, very pleasant, that reminds me much of the New Earth felines of 5,000,000,000. She is, I am told, not entirely indicative of her species, having at least the veneer of Victorian sensibility. She is quick of eye, strong in spirit, has an adventurous streak a mile wide, yet wraps herself in pretty crinolines with seemingly little comfort but the greatest of pride.
She visited me in the ETC to bring me news and share my supper. She had never visited us properly and as I showed around our home, Terry currently being away visiting the Dracoforms and having missed the excitement of the last few days, she gazed wide-eyed at the workings of the ETC. I took her over to New Babbage, and we walked and talked a while in relative safety.
When one spends time with her, one soon begins to realise how frightened she is of reprisal by her Master Zealot. In my opinion, a cat should not have a master...
...I will say no more, but suffice to say, she's a very brave young lady.
Caledon and Neualtenburgh owe her more than they may ever know.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Reconciliation Day
I don't like to talk about it, but I happen to be a Colonel in the Caledon Militia. Yes, I know, I know. A dubious position indeed for a non-native pacifist, and I'm not really sure how it happened. The Guvnah knows best I'm sure.
Truth be told, I rarely have to do anything except show up to the odd thing in uniform, and Terry normally keeps me on track with all that. Hotspur and the keener Captains have an eye on the standing army, everything seems safe in there hands, so most of us don't have to get that involved and (I think there are 8 of us in total) just have to keep our noses clean and act like community mascots when rolled out in front of the public.
Anyway, I'm best out of the way and it's all been a bit busy down at Militia HQ of late over some doings or other with Neualtenburg. I must confess, I try to avoid HQ if I can as it's in Tangelwood (which raises the whole ongoing rodent issue).
All that said, you could have knocked me down with a white feather this morning when I answered the cabinet door to a urchin with an urgent message from our good Captain Paris.
"All Colonels in the Caledon Militia. That means you Sir. You are kindly requested to attend the Reconciliation Ball with Neualtenburgf, Saturday 5SL, Coughton Court, Carntaigh. Full Dress Uniform is a must for this occasion. Things are afoot. There will be more information arriving shortly. Weaponry is strictly forbidden at the Ball, but your presence is required."
All friends now apparently. Or that's the plan. Dashed inconvenient with a 'Miranda Society' bash at 2 on the same day, but orders are orders. Better not get those uniforms mixed up mind you.
I digress. For a while there it looked like there was to be a fratch with Neualtenburg. Yes, I know, Neualtenburgers are a charming and peacefully self-governed and democratic people with a capital nothing short of a snow-endowed, non-profit cooperative. A republic of artisans which Terry assures me has some rather splendid retail opportunities...
...which is all true, but my first thought was "Hell-fire, this is going to take more flannel than a public bath house". A diplomatic solution may be just the ticket, but isn't going to please everyone.
There is a certain sub-order in our fragile little world just itching to turn it into Counterstrike.
While I've been quietly dodging my civic duties, bimbling around sorting out The Etheric Travel Cabinet for the new changes, half of Caledon has been screaming "Vorsprung Durch Dampf".
A hardcore few happy souls have been fervently making artillery, getting generally overexcited and frothing on about taking an army of Tanglewood Tinys armed with Ordinal Beehive Launchers 'over-the-top' (well, all right, that might have been me but I was asked to sound keen and knew they'd try and talk me out of it). Not that I'm not grateful for the "Knitting for the War Effort" (many thanks for the socks ladies), heavens no, or the nice new uniform for that matter (hats off to my man at Cut & Pearsed in Victoria City for a rather nice cut off a bolt of new cloth).
I do hope these good people will take this Reconciliation Ball in the spirit it is intended and remember this is Caledon. If the Guvnah says make peace we do just that. If the Guvnah says put on the red jacket and get ya backside to this soiree, we do just that. This is Caledon. There is no problem that cannot be solved, no battle that cannot be won, by the application of ones own body weight in cake.
And so. Best behaviour and try not to mention the war this weekend. Stand there quietly. If anyone asks any direct questions just use the usual long streams of Gallifreyan non-sequentials at them 'till they see me for mascot status and leave me alone.
Might have a dance with the lady in charge over there though (Kaiserin Kendra Bancroft) as she is a bit of a cutie and previous experience tells me it's best to do these things early before Hotspur or Pearse have a few drinks and get her tangled up in some embarrassing diplomatic 'sandwich' incident. Smashing. All friends now. What could possibly go wrong ;-)
We do seem to have a lot of artillery lying around mind you. Almost as if it was planned this way. You know there's enough kicking around HQ now, and enough interested parties, to do something quite spectacular ;-)
Truth be told, I rarely have to do anything except show up to the odd thing in uniform, and Terry normally keeps me on track with all that. Hotspur and the keener Captains have an eye on the standing army, everything seems safe in there hands, so most of us don't have to get that involved and (I think there are 8 of us in total) just have to keep our noses clean and act like community mascots when rolled out in front of the public.
Anyway, I'm best out of the way and it's all been a bit busy down at Militia HQ of late over some doings or other with Neualtenburg. I must confess, I try to avoid HQ if I can as it's in Tangelwood (which raises the whole ongoing rodent issue).All that said, you could have knocked me down with a white feather this morning when I answered the cabinet door to a urchin with an urgent message from our good Captain Paris.
"All Colonels in the Caledon Militia. That means you Sir. You are kindly requested to attend the Reconciliation Ball with Neualtenburgf, Saturday 5SL, Coughton Court, Carntaigh. Full Dress Uniform is a must for this occasion. Things are afoot. There will be more information arriving shortly. Weaponry is strictly forbidden at the Ball, but your presence is required."
All friends now apparently. Or that's the plan. Dashed inconvenient with a 'Miranda Society' bash at 2 on the same day, but orders are orders. Better not get those uniforms mixed up mind you.
I digress. For a while there it looked like there was to be a fratch with Neualtenburg. Yes, I know, Neualtenburgers are a charming and peacefully self-governed and democratic people with a capital nothing short of a snow-endowed, non-profit cooperative. A republic of artisans which Terry assures me has some rather splendid retail opportunities...
...which is all true, but my first thought was "Hell-fire, this is going to take more flannel than a public bath house". A diplomatic solution may be just the ticket, but isn't going to please everyone.
There is a certain sub-order in our fragile little world just itching to turn it into Counterstrike.
While I've been quietly dodging my civic duties, bimbling around sorting out The Etheric Travel Cabinet for the new changes, half of Caledon has been screaming "Vorsprung Durch Dampf".
A hardcore few happy souls have been fervently making artillery, getting generally overexcited and frothing on about taking an army of Tanglewood Tinys armed with Ordinal Beehive Launchers 'over-the-top' (well, all right, that might have been me but I was asked to sound keen and knew they'd try and talk me out of it). Not that I'm not grateful for the "Knitting for the War Effort" (many thanks for the socks ladies), heavens no, or the nice new uniform for that matter (hats off to my man at Cut & Pearsed in Victoria City for a rather nice cut off a bolt of new cloth).
I do hope these good people will take this Reconciliation Ball in the spirit it is intended and remember this is Caledon. If the Guvnah says make peace we do just that. If the Guvnah says put on the red jacket and get ya backside to this soiree, we do just that. This is Caledon. There is no problem that cannot be solved, no battle that cannot be won, by the application of ones own body weight in cake.
And so. Best behaviour and try not to mention the war this weekend. Stand there quietly. If anyone asks any direct questions just use the usual long streams of Gallifreyan non-sequentials at them 'till they see me for mascot status and leave me alone.
Might have a dance with the lady in charge over there though (Kaiserin Kendra Bancroft) as she is a bit of a cutie and previous experience tells me it's best to do these things early before Hotspur or Pearse have a few drinks and get her tangled up in some embarrassing diplomatic 'sandwich' incident. Smashing. All friends now. What could possibly go wrong ;-)
We do seem to have a lot of artillery lying around mind you. Almost as if it was planned this way. You know there's enough kicking around HQ now, and enough interested parties, to do something quite spectacular ;-)
Monday, April 23, 2007
Shhhh! Tell Everyone!
Now is time for the Secret Miranda Society's Other Ball!
Captain Paris has thoughtfully provided the location in (vermin central) Tanglewood this coming Saturday 28th at 2 PM SLT. There will be opportunities for group snapshots but, as it's in Tanglewood, I'll make myself scarce most ricky-tick at the first whiff of paparazzi.
In the words of Miss Paris "If that doesn't put the fear of drag into the Neaulaltenbergers, I don't know what will!"
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Get Riel
Sen and I had been working in her ship. Refining some ideas on the forthcoming changes for my own, and I found myself awake when I'd normally be napping on the chez lounge.
Consequently, last night, I was lucky enough to attend the RezDay party of our Duchess Gabrielle Riel, and I'm jolly glad I did. A splendid hop that erred towards the jazz and swing in the wee small hours.
Caledon has rung with "Radio Gabrielle" (playing an eclectic mix of Caledon-friendly music in it's homes and streets) for many months. We have danced in her home (Coughton Court in Caledon Carntaigh) to the best of the 90s silver screen, shaken our Victorian booty to her fine collection of rave anthems, skipped down memory lane into 80s nostalgia, and witnesses the 'Duchess Sandwich' (the lady has a tasty buffet, I will say no more). Her colonial tones are the voice of free Caledon.
NB: I must reiterate here what a bang up, number one, smashing job she did at my 400th birthday.
This evening she had news for us all. There is to be a "Radio Reil", and other voices are to join her in Caledons very own channel! There is to be a podcast as well. Hearing the dulcet tones of the likes of Mr Caliber and Mr Pearse makes one marvel at the future of this fragile world and the international nature of Caledons inhabitants. Bravo! And happy RezDay to our beautiful Duchess :-)
For now at least, one can set ones music URL in the About Land>Media tab to:
http://rs3.radiostreamer.com:8100
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