Behind the Magic part 1

For a laugh I decided to do a spoof TV making of documentary. I wanted to do it all as one story but it was bit too long so I've split it into parts which I shall post over the coming week or so. It features 'clips' from my longer story mostly from chapters I have never posted before and a lot of which aren't actually written at all just planned. Hopefully not too much is given away by any of them.

Of course, poor Aerie can't actually watch TV at all. Anyone who can figure out the reason why would definitely deserve a cookie.


***

Metal Mickey & The Green Cross Code Man Present…

In association with George from Rainbow and a Dalek…

Morbus Cyclometricus: Behind the Magic

***

Host: Hi and welcome to the show. For those who aren’t up to date, Morbus Cyclometricus is basically a story about what happens when you get a smart guy with a good education who decides to waste it all watching TV and playing video games, then ask him to write about his experiences.

The story is packed full of various pop-culture and literary references…

“My name is Yoshimo. You killed my horse. Prepare to die.”
…
Edwin made his way to the very front of the ship and watched as they ploughed through the silent waters. With the wind whipping against his robes and his hair he felt refreshed, alive once more. Everything was right again. He was Edwin Odesseiron and there was nothing he couldn’t do, no power he couldn’t master.

“I will be king of the world!” He shouted, triumphantly punching the air.

A few startled sailors just shook their heads. Always the same with these landlubbers, the sea air just went straight to their heads. Then one of them stood up slowly looking past Edwin his eyes began widening in horror. “I-i-iceberg!” He screamed and the crew began to panic.

Edwin stayed where he was while his shoulders sagged. “Oh… poohey.”
…
“Huh?” Tarant jumped awake and looked around. He was still in the theatre and a number of nobles looked at him disdainfully, whispering and pointing. Aerie, who was sat in the seat next to him, in an unusually bold move told to shush. Tarant just smiled. Unlike the nobility who only came to these venues to be seen and create the illusion of being well-bred and cultured, she at least was actually interested in the play. “So, what has been happening?” he asked quietly.

“That… that man,” Aerie almost spat. She’d been getting too involved with the characters. At one point she almost shouted out what a mean and stupid man the central character was. “He has disowned his youngest daughter because she wouldn’t prove how much she loved him.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Aerie looked at him like he’d been living on another world all his life. “She had always been devoted and loyal to him despite… despite his cruelty. She shouldn’t need to do or say anything more to prove her affection.”

“I see,” he said. Aerie doubted that he did or that he even cared. “Why is he screaming?”

The avariel sighed. “A cat just ran in and jumped on his… on his private parts. I-I don’t think its part of the play, sir.” Even so, she couldn’t help but feel he deserved it.
…
“So,” Invidaea licked her lips. “You are the Child of Bhaal?”

Tarant nodded, appearing not to take his eyes off her but he managed to get a quick glimpse around the room. Jaheira was bleeding badly, she probably only had a few minutes, Minsc didn’t appear to be much better off. Yoshimo was vomiting and coughing up blood while Edwin wasn’t moving at all. They wouldn’t be able to heal themselves though until there was some distance between them and Invidaea.

Damn, it had been a really crappy day. He’d been trapped in a maze for half of it, subjected to tedious riddles and jesters who weren’t funny, he hadn’t had anything good to eat and now he had deal with another over the top villainess who refused to stay dead.

“General,” he said straightening up. “Would you care to step outside?”
…
“Why are there three balls?” Edwin asked looking more and more sinister. “If the game won’t end until someone has caught that one ball and the team who catches it wins then what is the point of the other two balls?” The young wizard didn’t seem to understand. “Why not just have the one ball, as it is the only ball that matters anyway and forget about the other two?”

“There…” the cherubic young wizard looked into his box seeming very confused. “There are these… three balls you see…”

“Pah! Do you think I became a wizard so that I could play some inane sport with rules that make no sense? I am sorry but I am going to have to kill you.”

Host: There is a lot of silliness…

Anomen ‘hmphed’ yet again. “I am sure I can think of ways to satisfy the lady,” he said just as Jaelle walked into the room.

“What’s that?” She remarked having overheard just a little of the conversation. “You didn’t tell me the order had given you a horse.”
…
Aerie took the package away and tried to open it, but in the end gave up having conceded two pin falls and a submission.
…
“You know,” said Jaelle. “If you’re angry with someone you should try walking a mile in their shoes.”

“Why?” Jaheira raised an eyebrow.

“Well, because if you’re still angry after that then you’re a mile away and you have their shoes.”

Host: Some intellectual rambling…

“Now, if you could actually know the future,” Jaelle said. “Then isn’t it the case that you are presented with a choice? You could choose to kill yourself for example, that way avoiding it altogether.”
...
“Now that sounds just like inverted snobbery to me,” Jaelle shook her head.

Aerie bowed hers respectfully. The odd thing was, most of the elves she had met since her capture she herself would have described as snobs. The avariel were so isolated from every other people and perhaps she had been too young but she really had no idea that such a thing as prejudice existed before then. It certainly wasn’t what elven philosophy was about though, not as she had always understood it.

“We… elves believe that every form of life has its place in nature and an important role in it,” she tried to explain. “Not that anyone is more important than anyone else, or any better or any worse. We’re just all… different,” A part of her wanted to point out that the avariel had never partaken in any form of slave-trade but another part which was still stronger told her to just forget about that. “The avariel live to celebrate life and freedom sir, never to destroy it.”

“That right?” Tarant leant smugly against the wall. “But tell me Aerie, what happens to someone when they’ve lost their place?”

“I…” What indeed. Aerie cursed herself as her eyes began to water. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t stop herself displaying what she knew others would think of as signs of weakness. “Isn’t it time we got moving sir?”
…
“What in the hells are you talking about?” Tarant just couldn’t believe his ears. Obviously this was just some upper class brat with no real experience of the world.

“Animals are better than people,” the boy said. “They only ever kill to eat.”

“That is just so much crap,” The half-elf sneered. “Wolf packs often fight each other over territory. Ant colonies fight all the time and dolphins have been seen by sailors battering porpoises to death for no reason at all.”

The boys eyes widened in horror. Apparently he just wasn’t ready for this level of reality. “You’re talking nonsense,” he wailed defiantly. “You’re making it up.”

“Right,” Tarant drew a hand slowly across his forehead. “I’m sorry but I’m just going to have to kill you.”

“Tarant,” Jaelle titted softly. “Calm down. It’s not worth it.”

“I don’t tolerate stupidity,” he told her.

“Neither will I, but,” she leant in close to whisper into the half-elf’s ear. “He’s twelve years old.”

“Well… you’re never too young to learn the truth,” he said sulkily.

Host: Join us now as we take a look at the madness that is behind the magic…

***

Tarant: What the hell are you all doing in my room?

I(Interviewer): We were hoping to have a chat with you.

Tarant: Well?

I: Um… can we have a chat?

Tarant: No. Now piss off.

He forces the crew back and slams the door in their faces.
…
Aerie: Oh… hello sirs. No… no one told me there were going to be visitors.

I: Hello miss. We’d just like to talk to you about the story you’re in.

Aerie: S-story?

I: Morbus Cyclometricus? We’re doing a programme for television.

Aerie (backing away): Ah… and you want to speak to me… that’s…er, nice. But I-I have chores to do and… look there’s Cernd. He’s a very interesting person to talk to.

I looks around but there is no-one there. Aerie meanwhile has scarpered.
…
I knocks on a door. There follows the sound of someone falling out of bed.

Imoen: Beeswax! Who’s there? I’ve got a crossbow you know.
…
I: Er, Miss Jaheira!

Jaheira: No.

She quickly closes the door.
…
Imoen: It’s not loaded but I’m not afraid to use it!
…
Cernd: So my good friends, did you want to speak to me?

I: Er, maybe later.
…
Aerie’s tentatively peers around the door. She sees the crew are still there and promptly vanishes.
…
Viconia: So, you rivvin have developed the technology to beam sound and pictures into the homes of every wael who inhabits your world. It is somewhat impressive I’ll admit. And everyone will be able to see me? Hear every word I say?

I: Well, yes.

Viconia (poses like a fashion model): And what do I get for allowing them to have this… privilege?

I: Er, money?

Viconia: Money is… useful. But… (she gently strokes I’s face with her fingers) I’m sure you can offer something which we will both find far more pleasurable. I expect the audience would as well.

I faints.
…
Edwin: Yes, yes. Of course. Do you have the fee we agreed upon?

I: Er, yes. The entire series of Friends on DVD.

Edwin: Excellent. At last I will discover the secret of their power. Must be some kind of powerful enchanting magic or why would I be drawn to watch it again and again? Oh, er, you may begin with your questioning.

***

Host: Eventually we managed to lure Aerie out of hiding and convince her it was okay to talk to us. For the others we had to spend some time negotiating fees which for the most part involved the changing hands of cash except for Edwin, whose fee had been agreed upon in advance, and Jaelle who agreed to speak to us in exchange for the promise of a hug and a kiss.

The story, Morbus Cyclometricus, is written here in the made-up town of Westlife somewhere in England on planet earth. It was written by someone whose fake name is Coutelier. He has asked us not to reveal his real name, because it’s Brian.

***

Jaelle: Well you see Jonathan Archer is the captain of the first warp five starship named Enterprise…

I: No, we want to talk about Morbus Cyclometricus.

Jaelle: Not Enterprise?

I: No.

Jaelle: It’s very good. Have you watched it?

I: No, not yet.

Jaelle: You know I’m not sure I want to be interviewed by someone who doesn’t care enough about science-fiction to watch Enterprise.
…
Tarant: The story is about me. And all these people, and I use the term loosely, who hang around me even though I just want them to… to die I guess. I want the world to be engulfed by a huge fireball and for me to be the only survivor. That’s my long-term goal.
…
Viconia: I am not in the story very much. There are long gaps inbetween where those others just have to fill in as best they can, but it is all just padding until the next time they see me.
…
Imoen: It’s all about me, despite me not being in it for a long time. Obviously the others do all contribute in some small way but really I’m the star. I am the most beautiful, most charismatic, the cleverest. I suppose its unfair that I’m in the story at all as just no-one can compete with me.
…
Tarant: Besides me, there are I suppose some others who star… and again I use the term very loosely… in the story.
…
Edwin: Let them all have their brief moment of fame I say. I can bide my time… for now.
…
Aerie: It’s about all our lives, I guess.
…
Imoen: Actually Aerie is in the story a lot more than me. I’m going to call my agent. I mean, I’m a lot cuter than she is.
…
Jaelle: Yeah, Aerie does seem to do the most growing throughout the story.
…
Aerie: I… I just had the most catching up to do.
…
Jaelle: There is over the top of everything some kind of spoof sociological work about adventurers as a sub-culture. Apparently the first thing you need to be an adventurer is to be an orphan.
…
Tarant: Well, I… I suppose I’ve never met an adventurer who hasn’t been an orphan of some kind. Or at least have issues with their parents and probably wish they’d never had any.
…
Aerie: My parents were wonderful, I-I think anyway… at least we never had much anyway… but then avariel just don’t like money as much as humans do. I was happy anyway. But now I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. I might… never… it… thinking about it makes me a bit sad.
…
Imoen: That’s true you know. Why is that?
…
Jaelle: Could be that it’s about removing the dominating influence of the mother from our lives. You’ll notice that adventurers are usually orphans but there is usually some kind of father-figure present but never a mother. There are lots of terribly sexist overtones in fantasy stories… or it could be that’s reading far too much into it. I don’t know, I just offer that as a possibility.
…
Tarant: Gorion? He was a… idiot.
…
Jaheira: If any of us had real families, homes and those kind of responsibilities we just would not have time to be adventurers.
…
Jaelle: I like to think that we are kind of family here.

Imoen: Awww, that’s sweet.

Jaelle: Thank you. We are all just really close here. And we’ll say that Tarant’s the father, Jaheira’s the mother and I’m an aunt whom everyone likes because I always bring presents. The others are the children…

Imoen: What about me?

Jaelle: You’re a really annoying cousin whom no-ones invited but just never seems to leave.
…
Cernd: Are you ready to speak to me yet?

I: Er… maybe we can fit you in after lunch?

Cernd: I’ll wait then.

***

Host: Good, good stuff. Well we have to take a little break right now. Join us when we get back to take a closer look at the many deeply unhappy and profoundly lonely people that make up the writers life as well as characters from the story itself. Don’t go away. I mean it. If you do Sarevok has sworn to kill you.

Awesome

Anyway, I seem to remember the story this was/is...was it called Morbus Cyclometricus? Don't remember much, only I totally lost it somewhere, and would like to restart reading it again...is it here on the attic, still?

(*applauds*) That was great! Now, when do we get to the drugs, alcohol, and general downward spiral before the inevitable finding of religion?

Awesome

Anyway, I seem to remember the story this was/is...was it called Morbus Cyclometricus? Don't remember much, only I totally lost it somewhere, and would like to restart reading it again...is it here on the attic, still?

Well it was originally called 'Centre of the Multiverse', or 'CotM'. Much of those early chapters I've been redoing somewhat. Then it got to a bit when Aerie starts learning a bit about Jaelle's early years on some other plane which was headed Morbus Cyclometricus, then I decided that was a much better title as it's used to refer to people who attempt the impossible. Specifically people who attempt to square a circle (to draw a square with exactly the same area as a given circle) using a compass and a ruler which was an impossible maths challenge the ancient greeks set up. So I renamed the whole thing to that.

To find it all you would have to search the archives. I should probably do something about that.

(*applauds*) That was great! Now, when do we get to the drugs, alcohol, and general downward spiral before the inevitable finding of religion?

Well you see... no I can't reveal that much. It's a big surprise you see.

But this is the making of film. Perhaps later I'll do some sort of 'What happened next?' thing.