ATM II RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Celuien · 10-27-2006, 11:02 AM

Sounds of singing, laughter, and rejoicing resounded in the depths of the Valley of the Hippies. Somewhere among the gathered celebrants, a woman sitting crosslegged on the ground in a flowing skirt, peasant blouse and Birkenstocks tied a wreath of wildflowers into her hair like a crown. She looked strangely like Panakeia. On second thought, it might have been noted that the resemblence wasn't strange at all. She was Panakeia.

She had been happy during her stay. It was true that she heard strange noises by night, and that in the morning there were large footprints outside where a herd of large animals trampled the ground. But no harm had come to her once, so Panakeia was content.

Across from her, a trio was trying to write a song.

How many weeks can a sandbox exist
Before it is filled up by fleas?
Yes, 'n' how many years must coffee exist
Before they learn to drink tea?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head
Before he just gets dizzy?

The answer, I said, is hidden in the sand
The answer is hidden in the sand.

"Well, what do you think?"

Panakeia shook her head. "I don't know..."

"I know. We need something to protest. Can't write a good song without a protest."

A light bulb went off over Panakeia's head, or would have gone off had such a device been suspended in that position.

"I've got it! Let's go to Lûndûn. We'll have a protest against the establishment, the Blue Istari, the Grand Anakronist and everything!"

Cheers went up. There was a great movement of scurrying into battered buses and soon, a large party was Lûndûn bound.

10-27-2006, 11:02 AM	#20
Celuien Riveting Ribbiter Join Date: May 2005 Location: Assigned to Mordor Posts: 1,767	Sounds of singing, laughter, and rejoicing resounded in the depths of the Valley of the Hippies. Somewhere among the gathered celebrants, a woman sitting crosslegged on the ground in a flowing skirt, peasant blouse and Birkenstocks tied a wreath of wildflowers into her hair like a crown. She looked strangely like Panakeia. On second thought, it might have been noted that the resemblence wasn't strange at all. She was Panakeia. She had been happy during her stay. It was true that she heard strange noises by night, and that in the morning there were large footprints outside where a herd of large animals trampled the ground. But no harm had come to her once, so Panakeia was content. Across from her, a trio was trying to write a song. How many weeks can a sandbox exist Before it is filled up by fleas? Yes, 'n' how many years must coffee exist Before they learn to drink tea? Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head Before he just gets dizzy? The answer, I said, is hidden in the sand The answer is hidden in the sand. "Well, what do you think?" Panakeia shook her head. "I don't know..." "I know. We need something to protest. Can't write a good song without a protest." A light bulb went off over Panakeia's head, or would have gone off had such a device been suspended in that position. "I've got it! Let's go to Lûndûn. We'll have a protest against the establishment, the Blue Istari, the Grand Anakronist and everything!" Cheers went up. There was a great movement of scurrying into battered buses and soon, a large party was Lûndûn bound. Last edited by Celuien; 10-30-2006 at 08:24 PM.