Post by The Pilot on Sept 14, 2007 12:23:32 GMT -5
The two companions fought well on past sunset. It actually took one of them to get nicked with a blade from not being able to see it for them to realize how late it was, and how big of an appetite Narthas had. However, as they made their way back to the inn for the night, something in the sky caught Lauren’s eye. She looked up and knitted her brows in confusion. “Hey, Big N. Check that out.” She pointed upward to the heavens, and her elven companion followed her gaze.
“What in the fires of Angband is that,” he muttered under his breath.
The thing in the sky there were looking at was moving at a good pace, and resembled a meteor. After a moment, it glowed bright orange as it penetrated the atmosphere, and then it was dark again. “Did you see where it went?” Lauren asked her companion hurriedly as she darted down the street in an attempt to get a better view of the sky. Unfortunately, before she was able to get very far, a hand had a good hold on her arm.
“Whatever that was,” he said in a low voice, still looking up at the stars. “It was headed east.”
“You know, I don’t think I’m too keen on this whole afterlife thing anymore,” Lauren said. “There’s some weird shit going on, and you’re no help.”
“Trust me. If I knew what that was, I would have told you.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Honestly!” He looked down at her with pleading green eyes. “I’ve had quite a handle on this whole thing until very recently.”
The girl narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Quite a handle on what exactly, Narthas Randomië? Don’t you give me any bullshit.”
The elf opened the door to the inn for them both, and they sat down at a table, as far as they could from the hearth. It was bloody hot as it was. “Alright,” he began in almost a whisper. “Things with the fans have been getting increasingly complicated over the past few years.”
“Go on.”
“How much do you know about alternate realities and parallel universes?”
“Enough to hold my own in a conversation, I’m pretty sure.”
“Before you came here, you saw the list of afterlives to choose from, right?”
Lauren nodded.
“And you saw just how many there were, didn’t you.”
She nodded again.
“Every single one of those afterlives is isolated in its own separate universe. The only way that those universes can be connected and accessed is through the Waypoint. Purgatory. You’ve been there; you’ve seen all of those doors, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well guess what. The dozen or so in that main lobby are only the first dozen or so,” he said, leaning over the table. “The main dozen or so. You probably didn’t see it, but there is a maze of hallways beside that main lobby, each filled with doors.”
Lauren leant in too. “What? Where do they all lead to?”
“Fandoms. Hundreds of them. With each idea that comes out, every movie that’s released, every book published, every television show aired; each one has its own fandom. There is no fantasy world out there that does not have at least one individual so fanatic about it that they would be willing to spend the rest of eternity confined by the laws of that world.
“You know what, though? Humans are bad at making decisions that affect the rest of their lives, especially when they are no longer mortal. And so fans are getting restless. They don’t like confinement. Some of them don’t even have their human bodies anymore, but they’re still ruled by a human mind.”
“Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Narthas nodded gravely. “Fandoms are converging with other fandoms at certain points. Rifts are being torn between the worlds, allowing for easy access between them. You’ve got X-men mixing with Anne Rice vampires. You’ve got Fullmetal Alchemists mixing with Horde and Alliance players. It’s complete and utter chaos out there.”
“But what does all of that have to do with Middle-earth?”
“Portals, Lauren. Portals are tears through the fabric of spacetime. Guess how many Middle-earth has?”
“Two?”
“We know the location of two of them. The bookstore, and mine. How did Quinn get here? Through a portal, though we don’t know where it is. And there are more.”
“How do you know that?”
Narthas leaned in closer, and his face was inches from hers. “There are other fans here, Lauren,” he whispered. “Fans that shouldn’t be here.”
The girl looked astounded, and she was. She came to Middle-earth to fight orcs and Balrogs and travel the path of the Fellowship, not contend with inter-universal conspiracies and bureaucracy! “How many are here already? And what do they want with Middle-earth?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know. All I can tell you is that with each breach in Arda’s spacetime fabric, the easier it is for more to come through.”
Lauren heaved a heavy sigh. “Is there anything we can do about it? Does DERIF know?”
“As far as I know, DERIF is completely oblivious, which I’m thankful for. If they found out what was going on, the elves would demand that all fans be removed and have Middle-earth sealed off completely.”
“So there’s nothing.”
Narthas shook his head. “So long as we remain underground, there’s everything.”
She widened his eyes at him. “Are you suggesting we kill fans that don’t belong here?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I say we wait and see if we come across anything suspicious, and that’s when we’ll act as we see fit when the time comes.” He resumed his original upright sitting position. “Now how about some ale?”
Lauren sighed again. “Sorry, I don’t drink.”
Narthas studied her for a moment. “Are you really that bothered about it?”
“Yes and no. I’m just a little pissed that my afterlife might be ruined because other people are bored and careless.”
“I’ve got a few contacts I plan on speaking with when we get to Gondor about it.”
“Alright.” She slumped in her seat. “You promise to keep me posted, right?”
“Ha! Of course. What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t let you in on all of this stuff?”
“A shitty one, that’s for sure.”
“Definitely. Alright, I’m going to get something to eat, then hit the sack. We’ve got to be up bright and early tomorrow.”
“Shore thing.”
A few minutes later and the elf ordered himself a turkey leg, a few links of sausage, baked potato, and a huge slice of apple pie which Lauren, despite not having to eat, could not resist. They sat and idly chatted for a few minutes before Narthas paid the bill and they headed back upstairs. A candle was lit for them in their room as the two of them nearly collapsed in their beds. Narthas removed his tunic, undershirt and boots, leaving him only in his trousers. He was a pretty fit guy for not having fought in a war for a few thousand years, and she found herself wondering if any plump elves existed.
“Hey,” she asked before he was able to get into bed. “Can I punch you in the stomach?”
The elf nearly had a double take. “What?”
“Can I punch you in the stomach as hard as I can?”
He blinked and glanced around the room for a second. “…why?”
“I donno. I’m a violent kid. Couldn’t you tell? I just want to see if I can punch you hard enough that it hurts.”
“Uhm, okay.” The elf laughed to himself as he stood up again, tall and rigid as he tightened his abdominal muscles, ready for a good punch. She pulled back her arm and formed her hand into a fist, clenched her teeth, and sent it flying toward the area just below his belly button. A light smack was the only noise other than a small groan that she heard.
“Did it hurt?” she asked almost eagerly.
“A little,” the elf said, rubbing his belly with a wheeze. “Am I allowed to go to sleep now?”
“Go, you lummox.”
“Thank you your vileness.” With that he climbed into bed with another groan, turned his back to Lauren, and instructed her to blow out the candle. After a moment she did and climbed into bed as well, staring at the dark ceiling.
There were many things going through her mind at that point. The attempted assassination of the king, the meteorite, portals, fandoms, and again, the meteorite. She lay in her bed for what seemed like a very long time, just thinking. When at last Narthas’ breathing was deep and slow, she climbed out of bed and went to the window. Looking over her shoulder at the somnambulant form of her friend, she pushed open the glass panes and stepped out onto the window sill. Lauren maneuvered herself on the sill to have better access to one of the rafters supporting the eaves, grabbed it, swung on it, and hurled herself upward to grab onto the edge of the roof. With another surge of energy, she pulled herself up.
The roof of the inn was a wide thing, covered in wooden shingles that her bare feet found easy to grip. The girl made her way to the highest point on the roof and sat there, staring up at the stars. She was probably on the roof for an hour or so when another slow, cumbersome shooting star caught her eye, heading in an easterly direction just as the other had. It brightened with an orange glow as well before darkening and disappearing against the black sky.
Meteor shower? “I think not,” she said to herself.
“What in the fires of Angband is that,” he muttered under his breath.
The thing in the sky there were looking at was moving at a good pace, and resembled a meteor. After a moment, it glowed bright orange as it penetrated the atmosphere, and then it was dark again. “Did you see where it went?” Lauren asked her companion hurriedly as she darted down the street in an attempt to get a better view of the sky. Unfortunately, before she was able to get very far, a hand had a good hold on her arm.
“Whatever that was,” he said in a low voice, still looking up at the stars. “It was headed east.”
“You know, I don’t think I’m too keen on this whole afterlife thing anymore,” Lauren said. “There’s some weird shit going on, and you’re no help.”
“Trust me. If I knew what that was, I would have told you.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“Honestly!” He looked down at her with pleading green eyes. “I’ve had quite a handle on this whole thing until very recently.”
The girl narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Quite a handle on what exactly, Narthas Randomië? Don’t you give me any bullshit.”
The elf opened the door to the inn for them both, and they sat down at a table, as far as they could from the hearth. It was bloody hot as it was. “Alright,” he began in almost a whisper. “Things with the fans have been getting increasingly complicated over the past few years.”
“Go on.”
“How much do you know about alternate realities and parallel universes?”
“Enough to hold my own in a conversation, I’m pretty sure.”
“Before you came here, you saw the list of afterlives to choose from, right?”
Lauren nodded.
“And you saw just how many there were, didn’t you.”
She nodded again.
“Every single one of those afterlives is isolated in its own separate universe. The only way that those universes can be connected and accessed is through the Waypoint. Purgatory. You’ve been there; you’ve seen all of those doors, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well guess what. The dozen or so in that main lobby are only the first dozen or so,” he said, leaning over the table. “The main dozen or so. You probably didn’t see it, but there is a maze of hallways beside that main lobby, each filled with doors.”
Lauren leant in too. “What? Where do they all lead to?”
“Fandoms. Hundreds of them. With each idea that comes out, every movie that’s released, every book published, every television show aired; each one has its own fandom. There is no fantasy world out there that does not have at least one individual so fanatic about it that they would be willing to spend the rest of eternity confined by the laws of that world.
“You know what, though? Humans are bad at making decisions that affect the rest of their lives, especially when they are no longer mortal. And so fans are getting restless. They don’t like confinement. Some of them don’t even have their human bodies anymore, but they’re still ruled by a human mind.”
“Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Narthas nodded gravely. “Fandoms are converging with other fandoms at certain points. Rifts are being torn between the worlds, allowing for easy access between them. You’ve got X-men mixing with Anne Rice vampires. You’ve got Fullmetal Alchemists mixing with Horde and Alliance players. It’s complete and utter chaos out there.”
“But what does all of that have to do with Middle-earth?”
“Portals, Lauren. Portals are tears through the fabric of spacetime. Guess how many Middle-earth has?”
“Two?”
“We know the location of two of them. The bookstore, and mine. How did Quinn get here? Through a portal, though we don’t know where it is. And there are more.”
“How do you know that?”
Narthas leaned in closer, and his face was inches from hers. “There are other fans here, Lauren,” he whispered. “Fans that shouldn’t be here.”
The girl looked astounded, and she was. She came to Middle-earth to fight orcs and Balrogs and travel the path of the Fellowship, not contend with inter-universal conspiracies and bureaucracy! “How many are here already? And what do they want with Middle-earth?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know. All I can tell you is that with each breach in Arda’s spacetime fabric, the easier it is for more to come through.”
Lauren heaved a heavy sigh. “Is there anything we can do about it? Does DERIF know?”
“As far as I know, DERIF is completely oblivious, which I’m thankful for. If they found out what was going on, the elves would demand that all fans be removed and have Middle-earth sealed off completely.”
“So there’s nothing.”
Narthas shook his head. “So long as we remain underground, there’s everything.”
She widened his eyes at him. “Are you suggesting we kill fans that don’t belong here?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I say we wait and see if we come across anything suspicious, and that’s when we’ll act as we see fit when the time comes.” He resumed his original upright sitting position. “Now how about some ale?”
Lauren sighed again. “Sorry, I don’t drink.”
Narthas studied her for a moment. “Are you really that bothered about it?”
“Yes and no. I’m just a little pissed that my afterlife might be ruined because other people are bored and careless.”
“I’ve got a few contacts I plan on speaking with when we get to Gondor about it.”
“Alright.” She slumped in her seat. “You promise to keep me posted, right?”
“Ha! Of course. What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t let you in on all of this stuff?”
“A shitty one, that’s for sure.”
“Definitely. Alright, I’m going to get something to eat, then hit the sack. We’ve got to be up bright and early tomorrow.”
“Shore thing.”
A few minutes later and the elf ordered himself a turkey leg, a few links of sausage, baked potato, and a huge slice of apple pie which Lauren, despite not having to eat, could not resist. They sat and idly chatted for a few minutes before Narthas paid the bill and they headed back upstairs. A candle was lit for them in their room as the two of them nearly collapsed in their beds. Narthas removed his tunic, undershirt and boots, leaving him only in his trousers. He was a pretty fit guy for not having fought in a war for a few thousand years, and she found herself wondering if any plump elves existed.
“Hey,” she asked before he was able to get into bed. “Can I punch you in the stomach?”
The elf nearly had a double take. “What?”
“Can I punch you in the stomach as hard as I can?”
He blinked and glanced around the room for a second. “…why?”
“I donno. I’m a violent kid. Couldn’t you tell? I just want to see if I can punch you hard enough that it hurts.”
“Uhm, okay.” The elf laughed to himself as he stood up again, tall and rigid as he tightened his abdominal muscles, ready for a good punch. She pulled back her arm and formed her hand into a fist, clenched her teeth, and sent it flying toward the area just below his belly button. A light smack was the only noise other than a small groan that she heard.
“Did it hurt?” she asked almost eagerly.
“A little,” the elf said, rubbing his belly with a wheeze. “Am I allowed to go to sleep now?”
“Go, you lummox.”
“Thank you your vileness.” With that he climbed into bed with another groan, turned his back to Lauren, and instructed her to blow out the candle. After a moment she did and climbed into bed as well, staring at the dark ceiling.
There were many things going through her mind at that point. The attempted assassination of the king, the meteorite, portals, fandoms, and again, the meteorite. She lay in her bed for what seemed like a very long time, just thinking. When at last Narthas’ breathing was deep and slow, she climbed out of bed and went to the window. Looking over her shoulder at the somnambulant form of her friend, she pushed open the glass panes and stepped out onto the window sill. Lauren maneuvered herself on the sill to have better access to one of the rafters supporting the eaves, grabbed it, swung on it, and hurled herself upward to grab onto the edge of the roof. With another surge of energy, she pulled herself up.
The roof of the inn was a wide thing, covered in wooden shingles that her bare feet found easy to grip. The girl made her way to the highest point on the roof and sat there, staring up at the stars. She was probably on the roof for an hour or so when another slow, cumbersome shooting star caught her eye, heading in an easterly direction just as the other had. It brightened with an orange glow as well before darkening and disappearing against the black sky.
Meteor shower? “I think not,” she said to herself.
