Chapter 1.1, plus some notes and links
So, below is the first part of my "webcomic" which I've kind of turned into a prose thing. No idea if it'll work out but I figure it's worth a shot. If you can't be bothered reading it, scroll down for some links and such.
James glanced up from his DS when he heard the door open and shut above the gaggle of the crowded room. Alex had arrived, five minutes after himself and Sherman, probably because he had had to walk from the other building. His own fault for taking Maths.
He returned his focus to the game just in time to see a green shell rear-end him and sent him hurtling off a cliff. Sherman whooped enthusiastically. James thought that he would have grown used to winning by now but perhaps that was silly, since James was not yet resigned to losing.
The race was over by the time that Alex had pushed his way through the narrow gaps between the tables, making his way to their small corner of the room, brushing past dangling legs and trying not to step on dropped crisps as he did so. Putting his bag up on the table, just avoiding flattening James sandwiches, he pulled out his own console and the three friends spent the next half hour or so gaming, chatting and, occasionally, eating the lunch for which their break from schoolwork was named.
They had returned to playing Mario Kart, Alex being unbeatable at Tetris and Bomberman being too boring with only three players, when the topic of conversation moved to the weekend.
“I've been meaning to ask,” said Alex. “Either of you guys free on Saturday night?”
“You asking us out?” jibed Sherman, before blasting past James. He should have expected that; Sherm always stayed back until the last round to get better power-ups.
“Not precisely. Indeed, practically the opposite. My parents are having some kind of dinner party and I require your assistance in staying the hell away from it.”
“Ah,” replied James. “The old “But, Mum, I can't socialise now, I'm with my friends” routine.”
“Well, I stick with what works. And I do hate to be one of only three people below the age of forty in the house. And one of the others is thirty nine.” Alex had a look of quiet concentration on his face. Whether he was concentrating on the game or his verbose sentences (or something else entirely), James could never be sure.
“Who's number three?” he asked, unwilling to devote to words brainpower that could go into hitting item boxes.
“You, currently,” said Alex, timing it so perfectly with his overtaking that James could have sworn he'd been preparing it since he started talking. “And Claire Johnson on Saturday.”
“Claire Johnson... I know that name.”
“You've probably heard Sherman or I mention her, she used to be a friend back in Primary school.”
Sherman crossed the finish line, followed by Alex five seconds later. James was just a few seconds behind them when the game finished automatically. Looking around, he noticed the general meandering towards the door and packing of bags that indicated the end of lunch was near. He turned off and flipped shut his DS in one practiced movement, slipping it in his blazer pocket as Alex zipped up his bag and Sherman tossed a last chunk of sandwich into his mouth.
“So,” said Alex. “You guys in for Saturday?”
“Got rugby in the morning but I should be able to make it. When for?”
“Six thirty would probably be good. James?”
“I've got nothing better to do. And I can't resist a chance to meet a pretty girl.”
“Aww,” said Sherman as they reached the door. “You think I'm pretty.”
I will probably update this further, depending on how I feel. Might not do it here, though. Anyway, I promised links, so here they are. I'm a glutton for all things Spore, so here's a video from Leipzig that reveals... well, very little actually. But never mind, because if you don't like that, you can just watch The Amazing Randi for an hour or so. This guy's a professional skeptic and former magician, for those of you who don't know, whose foundation, the James Randi Educational Foundation, offers $1 million to anyone who can prove supernatural abilities under controlled conditions. This is mildly amusing, for the FPS lovers among you.
See here for a look at the 72-pin connector I replaced in a NES a couple of days ago. It seems to be corroded somehow but I think it looks kind of like mint flavoured toothpaste, all green and white. The fourth picture is my little cousin's drawing of a Dalek. You can ignore that.
If you check the Woodles section, you'll see that Sam has left some comments on the ones he drew. They make an amusing read, if you want to examine them.
I just realised that I didn't do that NWT I promised for today. It wasn't very good and it's technically Skippy's job anyway. I can promise a woodle for Saturday though. I have the art in advance this time.
Also, Spacewar!
James glanced up from his DS when he heard the door open and shut above the gaggle of the crowded room. Alex had arrived, five minutes after himself and Sherman, probably because he had had to walk from the other building. His own fault for taking Maths.
He returned his focus to the game just in time to see a green shell rear-end him and sent him hurtling off a cliff. Sherman whooped enthusiastically. James thought that he would have grown used to winning by now but perhaps that was silly, since James was not yet resigned to losing.
The race was over by the time that Alex had pushed his way through the narrow gaps between the tables, making his way to their small corner of the room, brushing past dangling legs and trying not to step on dropped crisps as he did so. Putting his bag up on the table, just avoiding flattening James sandwiches, he pulled out his own console and the three friends spent the next half hour or so gaming, chatting and, occasionally, eating the lunch for which their break from schoolwork was named.
They had returned to playing Mario Kart, Alex being unbeatable at Tetris and Bomberman being too boring with only three players, when the topic of conversation moved to the weekend.
“I've been meaning to ask,” said Alex. “Either of you guys free on Saturday night?”
“You asking us out?” jibed Sherman, before blasting past James. He should have expected that; Sherm always stayed back until the last round to get better power-ups.
“Not precisely. Indeed, practically the opposite. My parents are having some kind of dinner party and I require your assistance in staying the hell away from it.”
“Ah,” replied James. “The old “But, Mum, I can't socialise now, I'm with my friends” routine.”
“Well, I stick with what works. And I do hate to be one of only three people below the age of forty in the house. And one of the others is thirty nine.” Alex had a look of quiet concentration on his face. Whether he was concentrating on the game or his verbose sentences (or something else entirely), James could never be sure.
“Who's number three?” he asked, unwilling to devote to words brainpower that could go into hitting item boxes.
“You, currently,” said Alex, timing it so perfectly with his overtaking that James could have sworn he'd been preparing it since he started talking. “And Claire Johnson on Saturday.”
“Claire Johnson... I know that name.”
“You've probably heard Sherman or I mention her, she used to be a friend back in Primary school.”
Sherman crossed the finish line, followed by Alex five seconds later. James was just a few seconds behind them when the game finished automatically. Looking around, he noticed the general meandering towards the door and packing of bags that indicated the end of lunch was near. He turned off and flipped shut his DS in one practiced movement, slipping it in his blazer pocket as Alex zipped up his bag and Sherman tossed a last chunk of sandwich into his mouth.
“So,” said Alex. “You guys in for Saturday?”
“Got rugby in the morning but I should be able to make it. When for?”
“Six thirty would probably be good. James?”
“I've got nothing better to do. And I can't resist a chance to meet a pretty girl.”
“Aww,” said Sherman as they reached the door. “You think I'm pretty.”
I will probably update this further, depending on how I feel. Might not do it here, though. Anyway, I promised links, so here they are. I'm a glutton for all things Spore, so here's a video from Leipzig that reveals... well, very little actually. But never mind, because if you don't like that, you can just watch The Amazing Randi for an hour or so. This guy's a professional skeptic and former magician, for those of you who don't know, whose foundation, the James Randi Educational Foundation, offers $1 million to anyone who can prove supernatural abilities under controlled conditions. This is mildly amusing, for the FPS lovers among you.
See here for a look at the 72-pin connector I replaced in a NES a couple of days ago. It seems to be corroded somehow but I think it looks kind of like mint flavoured toothpaste, all green and white. The fourth picture is my little cousin's drawing of a Dalek. You can ignore that.
If you check the Woodles section, you'll see that Sam has left some comments on the ones he drew. They make an amusing read, if you want to examine them.
I just realised that I didn't do that NWT I promised for today. It wasn't very good and it's technically Skippy's job anyway. I can promise a woodle for Saturday though. I have the art in advance this time.
Also, Spacewar!
posted by Alasdair Corbett at
10:28 PM
0 Comments
Links to this post
