fredag 23 november 2007

Jag har tråkigt


Jag har varit hemma och varit sjuk tis, ons, tor och idag. Idag låg jag i sängen till klockan 15.00. Kändes helt enkelt inte värt att gå upp. Det enda som fanns var en stämningstext från Barbro på Kindred Societys forum  samt en helvetes massa plugg. Men när jag öppnade innerdörren låg där ett kuvert från Etnologiska institutionen och i den låg det en godkänd tenta. Jag blev glad, men är lite för förkyld för att bli själaglad.

Fortfarande ingen aptit. Har ätit en ruta choklad samt druckit en kopp varm cacaomjölk.
Ingen feber, men väldigt raspig i halsen, yr och orkeslös. Roade mig själv med att titta på avsnitt nio ut säsong tre av Battlestar: Galactica men avsnittet var riktigt uselt och oengagerande. Eller så är det bara jag som är usel och oengagerad. Varmvattnet var avstängt så jag har inte duschat, men i gengäld har jag hängt undan hälften av kläderna och skrubbat badkaret samt startat en diskmaskin.
Jag har inget planerat för kvällen (utom Kalops med Jonny) och inget planerat på helgen.

onsdag 31 oktober 2007

Dagen


Jag lämnade in tentan till Ungdom Identitet Livsstil vid ettiden inatt. Jag hade först tänkt skjuta upp den och göra den vid ett senare tillfälle, men i förrgår fick jag plötsligt för mig att jag skulle göra den ändå. Jag har dock ingen aning om jag kommer att få godkänt men med hjälp av kommentarer på denna första version är det lättare att få godkänt andra gången.

Jobbade idag, har fortfarande ont i vänster axel, och det oroar mig lite. Äter smärtstillande och antiinflamatoriska och har tagit ett varmt bad, men jag känner fortfarande av vad jag tror är muskelfästet. Nu ska jag nog ta och sminka mig och göra mig redo för nästa del av Ungdom Identitet Livsstil som börjar ikväll.

fredag 26 oktober 2007

Lajvrelaterat kalendarium för Göteborg


Just nu händer det mycket olika lajvrelaterade aktiviteter i och runt Göteborg. Varje söndag från klockan fyra och måndag klockan fem tränas det boffer i slottskogen, antingen i civila kläder eller dito lajv, medeltid eller vikingamässiga sådana.
På lördag, från 16.00 håller jag hemma hos mig själv en återträff för deltagare på lajvet Krigshjärta som var i september.

Vampyrlajvarna för Kindred Society träffas varje tisdag och torsdageftermiddag på Café Talang.
Lajvsällskapet Romantiska Sagor ses efter skoltid på Torsdagar på Meeths och Vages använder samma lokal på Måndagskvällar.

Ordinär vecka:

Måndag:
Eftemiddag vid fyra: Öppet Boffer i slottskogen med Dalslands Medeltidsförening
Kväll: Vagesmöte  Meeths unga salonger.

Tisdag:
Kindred Society möts på Talang Cafe.

Torsdag:
Kindred Society möts på Café Talang
Lajvsällskapet Romantiska Sagor möts på Meeths unga Salonger

Söndag
Eftermiddag vid fem: Öppet boffer i slottskogen med Dalslands Medeltidsförening

Har ni fler tips?

onsdag 10 oktober 2007

Sekreterare.



Jag har blivit vald till Sekreterare för föreningen Kindred Society. Ingen kandiderade emot mig. Jonny blev Kassör i år igen. Hanna ordförande, Hoppe vice ordförande och Jonathan ledamot. Arhan är suppleang, vilket känns lite skönt, att det finns en vikarie vid eventuella sjukdomsfall. Det är så klart skulle någon bara bli normalt sjuk skulle vi nog bara flytta styrelsemötena. I alla fall, medlemmar av KS, jag finns till ert förfogande.

lördag 22 september 2007

Precis som Sara, du är vad du äter.


Frukost 7:30: Två extremt grova mackor med omega 3-brikad leverpastej. En kopp svart kaffe.
Tre bitar minchoklad.
Lunch 11.10: En burk Gulasch med en klick låglaktos gräddfil.
Mellanmål ca 16:00: En påse nutrilätt

Fången



Jag har inget namn.
Jag är Falk. Jag är Lejon. Jag är Ulv. Jag är Orm. Jag är Jungfrun av Toulonne.
Som medlem av Förbundet.
Ditt blod för Cordovien. Cordovien för ditt blod. Stå upp soldat, och var helad. 


Jag återvänder till de mina i Mariac efter strider då fångar tagits. Fångar jag minns från Bartol. Fångar vars fånge jag varit. Det erbjuds mig, Salens representant erbjuder mig att se deras död. Att hela marken, att rena den efter att deras blod spills. Jag tvekar, men sen hör jag Albin Vargtass röst. Om han går dit, så är jag trygg där. Min Väktare, Vivianne D´Rouge, protesterar min intention att lämna byn så snart efter att jag tagit ut mig men ger med sig. Vad annat kan hon göra? Hon greppar sin yxa och följer. Det är kallt i skuggan. Det är varmt i solen. Snart kommer någon att dö. Det är någon i skogen, sägs det. Vivianne D´Rouge greppar min arm. Hennes onda aningar hade kunnat rädda mig. Men följet fortsätter framåt. Jag tänker på Albin, på Grianne. Av skam kan jag säga att jag tänkte på fångarna, att de inte måtte slippa mellan våra fingrar igen. Snart kommer någon att dö. Jag hör paniken i deras röster. Verkligen. Jag hör den. Men det är som om benen ville växa fast i marken. I ögonvrån syns en svart kåpa fladdra förbi allt medan Cretzarnas skott brinner av. Grianne är mellan mig och Mariac, hon är framför mig och kommer att klara sig. Jag önskar att jag kunde hjälpa henne, hjälpa någon av mina landsmän. Hålla deras händer och dra bort paniken från deras röster, sakta deras hjärtas slag. Jag är inte här och nu. Ett skott fäller mig till marken och kroppen faller framåt. Jag står förvirrad över den vita skepnaden där den ligger. Vad gör jag, utan kropp? JAG ÄR HÄR! Men jag glider bort?.att det var så enkelt att släcka cordoviens hopp. Var är Albin? Var är Viv? Det är jag som kommer att dö. Svart. Rött. Den Cretziska prästen står på knä, lutad över det vita där det blöder på marken. Letar han efter något? Hans händer söker, det enda ögat irrar. Så får det kontakt, han SKRIKER och det skriket växer, lever, reser och hoppar från kropp till kropp och ger från liv till liv. Det tänder, vrider, biter. Vägrar släppa. Hud och kött pressar hagel från vävnad, avvisar det dödande skottet. Hugger tag om det som var på väg bort och drar tillbaka in i köttets fängelse. Jag är fånge igen. De Cretziska hundarna ställer mig upp utan pardon. Det är då jag ser Viv ligga nedgjord och tårarna börjar att rinna. Jag kan inte se om hon lever, om hon andas än. Aldrig borde jag gått hit. Aldrig borde hon fått lida för mig. Var är Albin? Jag se honom inte någonstans, men jag hör honom inte heller. Snabbt ska det gå över hygget, de håller upp mitt huvud med en dolk, eller svärd. Jag ser inte var jag sätter mina fötter, ej heller vad som händer. Jag hör endast ropen. Mina Cordover förföljer Cretzerna hack i häl. Än finns det hopp, om än så litet, men var gång jag försöker sakta ner, eller Cordoverna kommer för nära hotas mitt liv av en klinga mot halsen eller ett krutvapen mot min panna. ?Om ni kommer närmare dör hon!? Ett svärd smeker min högra sida, river upp klänningstyg och rispar hud, lagom mycket för ett ytligt men ymnigt blödande sår. Ett kvidande, ett skri kastar sig över mina läppar. Dom skär mig i armen på samma sätt, utan att stanna upp, utan att sakta in. ?Skär av en bit av hennes öra!? Det blir gjort. Ansiktet kommer härnäst, lovar dom halvhögt. Det är svårt att avgöra om hotet är menat för förföljarna eller för att se till att mina motsträviga fötter fortsätter framåt. Jag kan inte tillåta det här. Jag kan inte låta soldaterna se mig dö. Jag kan inte låta det vara deras fel. Men det finns inga krafter kvar och något?NÅGON?.manar mig nu framåt med varje steg jag tvingas till. Och denna någon blir bara starkare, som om den åt av min rädsla.

Pilar. Pilar viner överallt. Över våra huvuden. Jag känner igen ljudet av hur de klyver luften. Döden från ovan. Men jag är för svag och för omtöcknad och jag faller vänster, när jag menar att rycka undan åt höger. Klänningstyget är kladdigt av blod utmed hela vänster sida, och det rinner ner i stöveln. Rännilen från örat har kallnat, som om någon gråtit mot min kind. Och en av pilarna träffar mig, istället för de som släpar mig framåt. Jag hör Cretzarnas upprörda röster, deras förvirring. De ar ett virrvarr av tyger och färger för mig nu. Individer byts ut, jag kan inte avgöra vem som är vem när de flyter ihop i mitt förvirrade huvud.
"Snabbare!"
"Framåt!"
Det är samme man som ryter hela tiden. Än hotar han att skjuta mig, än sina kamrater, som för att hetsa dem och driva dem framför sig. Det är knappt så att de som är beväpnade hinner vända sig om för att fyra av krutstinkande skott mot de förföljande falkarna. Jag behöver inte ens försöka göra mig tung. Jag är tung. Mina fötter lyder mig inte. Men ändå fortsätter vi framåt. Gulnat, halvlångt gräs blandas med stubbar, stenar och upptrampad lera.
"Det går inte, hon orkar inte!"
"De är oss hack i häl!"

Jag är falk. Jag är Ulv. Jag är fler än de Cretzer jag driver, likt villebråd framför mig, och jag kommer helst säkert att besegra dem och återta den fånge de tror sig ha.
Men det blir inte så.
Skogen forsar förbi Cretzarna, det är som ett dån inuti mitt huvud. Min puls är som åska i mina öron. När det ljusnar ser jag det fruktansvärda som får mina fångvaktare att jubla. Deras förstärkningar är här. De ser det som att deras gudar är med dem. Jag faller mot den enda gud jag känner till. Den enda som existerar och den enda som kan hjälpa. Jag önskar att jag kan bli ett med marken, men den hårda landsvägen, piskad av regnet är bara tyst och stum. Någon ser till de skador som åsamkats mig. De hånar falkar och ulvar för pilen när de gräver ut den. Jag skriker och någon trycker en trasa som luktar starkt och sött över mina läppar och näsa. Ska jag andas kan jag inte undvika den starka aromen som överväldigar. Armar och ben blir behagligt tunga och alla skador verkar långt, långt borta.

Jag är så trött.

Kent - Ingenting


I Hagnestahill blinkar TV-ljusen Jag gör vad jag kan Drömmer mig bort I Hagnestahill Bland dem identiska husen Rycker vi till Reklamen avbryts för sport Ingenting Först kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Men ingenting är (ingen, ingen, ingen, ingen) Dem jävlarna tog oss en efter en Dem ljög och bedrog oss med sanningen Dem jävlarna tog min älskling där Från krönet av kullen kan jag se Min förlorade värld Jag ska göra nånting Jag ska slå er med häpnad Gå över en gräns Jag ska bryta mig ut Jag älskar dig så Som att vara beväpnad Och under belägring Kan jag skjuta dig ut Ingenting Först kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Men ingenting är (ingen, ingen, ingen, ingen) Dem jävlarna tog oss en efter en Dem ljög och bedrog oss med sanningen Dem jävlarna tog min älskling där Från krönet av kullen kan jag se Min förlorade värld Ingenting Först kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Sen kom ingenting Men ingenting är (ingen, ingen, ingen, ingen) Dem jävlarna tog oss en efter en Dem ljög och bedrog oss med sanningen Dem jävlarna tog min älskling där Från krönet av kullen kan jag se Min förlorade värld

fredag 7 september 2007

Jobbigt


Varför säger ingen precis de rätta sakerna? De där som bryter igenom mitt stumma skal. Jag vågar inte titta ut för jag är rädd för vad som händer då.
Varför bryter jag inte ihop? Rädslan. En övertygelse om att absolut inget blir bättre då.
Inatt tänker jag sova. Jag lyckades faktiskt duscha, hemma till och med, och föna håret med mousse i. Just nu har jag det uppsatt i små "knorvar" så att det ska bli lockigt imorgon. Inte för att det spelar så stor roll, ska ju bara jobba ändå. Men jag har en sak som funkar för mig, och det är mitt utseende, så länge jag tar hand om det.

Handledning i Borås.


7:10 Gå upp, gå upp, gå upp. Urk. Ingen tid, ingen macka. :( Packade smältost i väskan.
7:26 Lämnade hemmet. Jonny gosade fortfarande i dubbelsängen.
7:36 Spårvagn till Nordstan
7:55 Har en kvart på mig tills buss 100 går till Borås. Känner för att kräkas. Köper dyr-frukost på stationen.
8:10 Bussen avgår från Göteborg. Träffar min uppsatshandledare på bussen. Vi pratar TV-spel rent allmänt. Trevlig prick.
9:05 Bussen framme. Går med handledaren upp till skolan.
9:15 Framme vid Högskolan i Borås. Åker upp till studievägledaren. Trösterikt. Men jag minns knappt vad vi pratade om.
9:55 Färdig hos Studievägledaren. Går till biblioteket och kollar mailen.
ca 10:10 Min uppsatspartner kommer. Jag känner för att kräkas av nervositet. Vi tittar på böcker. Panikkänsla. Bestämmer oss för att ge en bok från början en ny chans och lånar varsitt exemplar.
11:00 Lunchrestaurangen serverar Tacobuffé. Jag äter två tredjedelar av en soft taco. Glömmer att ta lök. Känner för att kräkas. Vi handlar i kiosken och går upp till datorsalen. Jag skriver en sida teori. Lite bättre känsla, men har stark misstanke om att det bara är dravel jag skrivit.
13:00 Möte med upssatshandledaren. SUPERSPÄND. Vita knogar. Pladdrar.
13:30 det är över. Vi har lite nya idéer. Har dock precis missat bussen. Skiljs från Olle och går till skönhetssalongen och får en manikyr. Tänker att det är bra att belöna sig själv och att det ska få mig att slappna av. Det funkar sådär. Gör även en hudanalys. Huden ser bättre ut än vad jag trodde.
14:55 Buss från Borås. Somnar inte på bussen.
15:50 Framme i Göteborg. Går och handlar på Lindex Favourites. Hårmousse, två par strumpbyxor, puder och ett par knähöga svarta strumpor. Sen åker jag hem.


18:39 Har lite svårt att minnas vad jag gjort här hemma.

måndag 3 september 2007

Fortsatt arbete med Jungfruklänningen.


Ikväll har jag sytt på kantbandet på den andra klockärmen på Jungfruns nya klänning. Jag har dessutom sytt på de två smala ärmarna som ska sitta inuti. Tyvärr hamnade den ena ut och in och måste vändas. Men på den andra har jag sytt på alla fem knapparna samt sytt två av knapphålen. Det är meningen att ärmarna skall knäppas efter att man tagit på klänningen.

söndag 2 september 2007

Talulah Jezebel: Numbers 32:23


It hurt. It hurt and she was scared.
The gaping wound burned like fiery ice. She had missed the knife in his hand and then the smelly man had cut her. Even stabbed her. She didn't say anything, as there was nothing to say. Talulah pressed her hands hard against her stomache, there was a strange and revolting taste in her mouth. Blood still oozed out between her fingers.
And she was afraid.

Try not to run.
Don´t try to run.
I'll catch you.
I'll catch you anyway. 


Talulah rarely left the club. She had no reason to do so. Sally surely didn't trust her to run errands. And the garbage cans were right outside the back door. Now, for once, she was outside on the streets. Star had made a real effort into making her look pretty. She had applied all kinds of makeup, done her hair and lent her a nice dress. For an hour Talulah had felt pretty and normal. And now the man had put a big, gaping hole in the dress and she was making a mess out of it. The stain was still growing. It hurt.

Give me the money. 

Please she whispered.

Why did you have to go and be difficult? Give me the money! 

She clutched the bag, the little brown paper bag that held everything she had on her that day when she was found behind the club. The authorithies. She had finally found the courage to go to the authorithies. And he took it away from her. The bag. The courage.

Please 

Her blood was hot on her stomache. Star´s dress was ruined. She dropped the bag on the street. She fell to her knees top try to find it again. She was afraid, things were getting blurry. Then came the light. The voice.

Do not kill. Do not rape. Do not steal.
He's overstepped the boundaries. 


With every breath came the fire in her lungs. But still, she forced herself to a standing position. She could hardly se him, yet tried to face him. The smell helped.

No.
Please go away.
Please. 


And in the light, there is a shadow, and the shadow is an embodiment of everything the robber has ever done wrong. His misdeeds and wrongdoings. His murders, rapes, and thefts. And all the fear that he instilled in the hearts of others are turned back to his own black heart. His sin comes after him.

Numbers 32:23, "But if ye will not do so, behold, ye have sinned against the Lord: and be sure your sin will find you out." 

Talulah is not sure she heard it. But she believes she heard it, as she drifted of into unconsiousness. Her hand looses it's strenght, the bag slips out of her weakening grip. It could be over now.

But it isn't.
Not this time.


Reverend Hosaia couldn't let the girl be another body on his streets. But she won't be part of his flock, not quite yet. She will wake up again. At the hospital with lot's of stiches. She´ll run, like she always does. Doing so, she is forced to leave the precious little brown bag behind her. And with it the dream of finding her way back. The way back home. This is the point from witch Talulah herself counts her long way down into the darkness with Jesus.

Pray with me.
For Talulah.
For all of us kindred.

Herrljunga


Alice och Fredrik bjöd in mig till Herrljunga på fredagskvällen för att åka på Lions loppis i Vårgårda på lördag och söndag. Så efter jobbet gick jag hem och svarade på mail och begav mig sedan av in till grönsakstorget för att träna. Körde på hårt som ett djur och bastade en kort stund innan jag åt sunkig mat på Burger King och satte mig på tåget till Herrljunga.
Natten djupnade och mörknade där den susade förbi utanför tågfönstret.
Det var kallt när jag gick av, och upp på perrongen kom Alice och tog emot mig. Deras hus var stort, och fint inrett i en rolig engelsk och lantlig stil.
Hon hade gjort massor av föreberedelser för lajvet Krigshjärta.
Fredrik gjorde varma mackor som han la upp snyggt.
Bäddsoffan var som en extrabred dubbelsäng och Alice had lagt i en extra madrass så jag sjönk ner som en prinsessa för att snart drömma söta drömmar. Så blev det lördag.

Lions loppis hade nedräkning till kl 9.00, varpå de öppnade dörrarna och folk SPRANG in. Jag och Alice släntrade in sida vid sida. Hon pekade ut fem mattor och betalade 100 kr. Då fattade jag vad komma skulle.
Under de här två dagarna har jag gjort massor med fynd.

På lördag kväll lagade jag vitkålsoppa med frikadeller till Alice och Fredrik, mest för att testa receptet.

På slutet av söndagen gav de bort saker som annars skulle i kontainern. Jag räddade en gammal seriefavorit (Hjärteblod) ur grävskopan när allt skulle slängas! Nyskick!

Kom hem nu vid fem, dödstrött, med en bananlåda tung som stryk i famnen.

fredag 31 augusti 2007

Hat


Jag tror, hoppas och vill att jag är en mycket mindre hatisk person nuförtiden
Dock kan jag då och då drabbas av ett plötsligt hat mot personer i min omgivning, främst mina vänner. Det är väl någon sorts besvikelse. Frågan som ställs liknar till det yttre "var det här allt?" Ska vi sitta här allt framöver och disskutera samma saker, igen?
Är det så andra människor gör? Är det sådana relationer de anser är vänskapsrelationer?

Men jag hatar inte främlingar.
Jag kan bli rädd för främlingar ibland, och jag kan bli arg. Men för att hata främlingar krävs en kraftansträngning.

Idag kom jag upp i tid till jobbet, och vi firade en kollega på lunchen. Direkt efter jobbet gick jag ner till det administrativa kontoret och lämnade in mina fyra timrapporter för augusti och Lisas enda timrapport. Nu är jag hemma för att kolla mail och svara på dem. Det verkar som att problemet med de krockande föreläsningarna kommer att lösa sig.

Argh! Försov mig.


07:45 Klockan ringer...jag tittar på klockan. Poletten trillar ner. Jobbet började för en kvart sen. Svär och kastar på mig kläderna. Ner med Kreatinet i väskan. Springer genom skogen till jobbet.
07:50 Pust pust, inne på jobbet. Morgonmötet nästan över. Alla är mycket förstående. Det känns hemskt. Får skriva upp det på listan.

Förmiddagen: Jobbar häcken av mig.
Lunch: Kalvsylta och ost.
Eftermiddag: Jobbar häcken av mig. Ringen hemsjukvården typ fem gånger.

16:00 Lämnar jobbet. Går av Valand och går in på SEB-banken. Går väldigt snabbt att betala kåravgiften och få stämpeln. Åker tillbaka hem fem femman.
Ca 17:00 Hemma. Sitter med alla schemanb inför hösten och mailar föreläsare och ansvariga lärare för de två lektioner jag vet att jag kommer att missa.
ca 20:00: David ringer och bjuder över mig.
21:04 Jag ringer Åsa och pratar en stund. Erbjuder henne att sova över.
ca 21:10 Jag går över till David. Hans pappa,samt Janne är där. American Gigolo har börjat. Vi tittar en stund.
22:00 Vi tittar på "The number 23". Den är helt ok. Lite snabbt slut, men ett bra slut.
00.11 (12.11 12+11=23) David upptäcker att jag glömt kvar min bok och kastar ut den till mig genom fönstret från tredje våningen. Jag går hem och vattnar blommorna.

onsdag 29 augusti 2007

Hemma på lunch.


I natt sov jag. Hela 7 timmar. Hann till och med duscha och tvätta håret innan Fanny kom över och vi åt mjuka tacos. Funderade på om man skulle ta med ett gäng sådana till Krighsjärta, steka dem så de blir varma och ha mat i dem.

Har precis börjat käka Kreatin, tagit upp proteinpulvret igen och ska förnya gymkortet i eftermiddag. Önska mig lycka till.

Jonny lagade mat åt mig.

tisdag 28 augusti 2007

Sömnbrist II


01:10 Äntligen i säng
06:45 Klockan ringer. Snooze.
07:00 Går upp, letar upp kläder att ha på mig.
07:18 Dags att gå till jobbet

måndag 27 augusti 2007

sömnbrist


09:21, blir väckt av Jonny som påpekar just att klockan är 09.21. Somnar om då detta är irrelevant.
09:45 Vaknar. Äter två halvgrova mackor med leverpastej. Skriver än en gång ut kårkvittot, men det ser inte bra ut. 10:16 Greppar GP och går till hållplatsen.
10:26 Vagnen avgår till Backaplan. Det är en ny vagn.
10:41 Nya stombuslinjen tar mig till Selma Lagerlöfs torg.
10:58 Framme
12:00 Färdig. Hinner med en stambus tillbaka. Frågar vart den går efter backplan. Glädjande nog ingår Götaplatsen bland hållplatserna. :)

Går av Götaplatsen och går upp till Studenternas Hus. Registrerar mig smidigt och får ett inbetalningskort på kåravgiften. De rekommenderar att man betalar på banken på torsdag, då man genast får ett giltigt kvitto om man går så. Återvänder till Götaplatsen och springer ifatt stombussen. Det är samma bussförare som bara varit och vänt och han ler glatt åt mig. Jag ler tillbaka.

17:00 Äter mat hemma med Jonny. Benfria kotletter, ärtor, potatis och sås. Sedan spelar jag Sim City.

Stockholmsresan


Lördag 25 augusti

07.00 Går upp. Trött. Känner mig inte alls utvilad. Har inte sovit många timmar.
7.30 Anländer till jobbet. Äter frukost med arbetskamraterna och skriver en lapp med vilka jag ska besöka under dagen.
Strax innan 16.00: betalar kåravgiften för Borås Studentkår. Kastar mig ut från kontoret, glömmer mina gymnastikskor och går med ballerinaskorna till hållplatsen där Jonny väntar. Missar precis den spårvagn vi hade tänkt ta.
ca 16:40 Tåg x2000 till Stockholm.
19:50 Anländer Stockholm central. Upptäcker att lösa biljetter i tunnelbanan kostar 40 kr (40*2=80) Jonny tar ut pengar och vi tar istället taxi till festlokalen för 100 kr.
20.05 Anländer på skeppsbron 10. Theo och Anna inte där. Dom har stannat för mat. Supernervös. Blir hjälpt av kompis till Susanne eller hennes man. Blir invisade till festen. Jag och Jonny smyger in vår present i den massiva presenthögen. Inser att ett hatobjekt befinner sig där. Ägnar mycket tid åt att undvika honom. Brudparet anländer.

Vi får tårta och kaffe. Jag äter så mycket tårta att jag blir illamående. Anna får hämta vatten. Det hjälper.
Uppe vid dansgolvet finns det fri bar. Med alkoholfria drinkar. Gulligt. Dricker en Shirley Temple, och en Sweet Mojito. Blir uppbjuden med frågan "Vem av er vill dansa." Pekar på Gabriella.

00:30 Lämnar festen. Jag och Jonny väljer att gå till Pers lägenhet i vasastan.
ca 01.00 Äter på Max vid Kungsträdgården. Vet inte när vi kommer fram. Pratar lite med min storebror och däckar.

Söndag 26:e

11.30 Vaknar. Min svägerska Ingrid dukar upp stor frukost. Jag sitter länge i pyjamas och får påtår på påtår medan vi pratar utvecklingstörda, samhällsutveckling, uppfostran och trauma.
14:00 Gör upp med Susanne Vejdemo om att mötas på matmarknad vid Hornstull 14.30.
14:30 Hornstull Ingen Susanne
14:40 Beställer mat på Gasthaus Moldau. Vi äter i lugn och ro.
ca 15:30 Har ätit klart och Susanne med sällskap har hört av sig och sagt att de är på marknaden.
ca 16:00 inser efter en stund på marknaden att den nog stänger mellan 16 och 17.
16:30 Hela sällskapet kommer på att det är lika bra att ge upp om marknaden. Vi beger oss till hornstull och tar 4:ans buss till fridhemsplan. Lyckas inte hitta Åsas lägenhet.
ca 17:00 Blir upphämtade med bil av Åsas pappa, Åsa och Jonnys bror Tobias och körda till Åsas lägenhet. Den är mindre än vad jag trodde, men standarden är hög. Påminner på några sätt om min egen allra första lägenhet. Vi åker till Restaurang Lilla Capri. Jag äter italiensk chokladglass med romsmak. Tobias visar Jonny Dragons Lair och visar oss sedan vägen till Stationen.
20:00 Träffar Flax på Centralstation.
20:10 Tåget avgår. Vi sitter i tyst avdelning.
21:00 Sätter mig med Flax en stund i 1:a klass. Läser tidningen the Economist.
22:00 Går och äter en halv lasagne i restaurangen då jag är hungrig och mår illa.
23:17 Anländer Göteborg.

söndag 19 augusti 2007

Allmän Daglig livsföring: Skolan


Ha! Nu sitter jag faktiskt här med kulturpolitiken från förra hösten. Det trodde ni aldrig va!? Sitter med Quinns artikel Distance or Intimacy? - The Arm's Length principle, the british goverment and the arts council of great Britain.

18:06 
Färdig! Får se om Anders vill att jag även ska lägga in referenser om tysk kulturpolitik.

Nu funderar jag på att sminka mig och dra till Cafe Hängmattan för att se Lokes spelning (något sent dock, han skulle börjat vid sex)

Allmän daglig livsföring


Ringde till sjukvårdsupplysningen igår kväll ändå. Sjuksköterska bekräftade teorin om att benet antingen somnat eller att jag klämt en nerv, eftersom absolut inga symptom kvarstod. Kunde vara smart att vända sig till vårdcentral om det hände igen dock. Jotack, skulle vara väldans opraktiskt om ens ben hela tiden gav med sig.
Det glada gänget i vardagsrummet fortsatte att spela spel, denna gång Marvel Superheroes, som Jon vann. Jag gick och lade mig i sängen med dagens tidning och upplevde en välsignad känsla som måste ha varit stressen som rann ur kroppen. Efter att ha bläddrat igenom tidningen somnade jag in som ett barn.

Vaknade av svår kramp i vänster vad. Jag vet inte vilken gång i ordningen det var. Fick det att släppa och somnade om. Vaknade inte igen förrens 12.30, låg och drog mig ytterligare en timme. Det var länge sedan jag sov så länge i ett streck. Det känns nästan lite konstigt att jag själv lägger upp min tid idag men det är tänkt att jag ska

  • Läsa artiklar om västeuropeisk kultupolitik
  • använda artiklarna som referenser
  • plantera om blommor
  • våttorka golvet.

lördag 18 augusti 2007

Stekt fläsk med löksås


Barbro och hennes man Jon kom över, samt Gren som bor med Lars. Vi käkade mat och sedan spelade vi en omgång Settlers som min sambo vann.

Stekt fläsk med löksås

4 portioner

400-500 g rimmat fläsk i skivor
Löksås:
2 gula lökar
2 msk smör eller margarin
2 msk vetemjöl
4 dl mjölk
1/2 tsk salt eller
nymalen vit- eller svartpeppar
eventuellt soja
Skala och hacka eller skiva löken till såsen. Fräs den mjuk i fettet i en stekpanna eller kastrull. Strö över mjölet och rör om. Späd med mjölken under omrörning. Låt såsen koka upp och koka på svag värme 4-5 min. Smaksätt med salt, söndersmulad buljongtärning eller fond och peppar samt soja.
Stek fläskskivorna i omgångar i en stekpanna, vänd skivorna ett par gånger och stek fläsket knaprigt, om det är magert kan det behövas lite fett i pannan.
Servera med kokt potatis, löksåsen och grönsaker.

Efter avslutat lördagsjobb


Då har jag överlevt den här lördagen också.
8.30-16-30 = 8 h
Såhär i efterhand är det värt pengarna, men det fanns stunder då jag verkligen undrade vad jag hade gett mig in i. Bläddra lite i en bok av Torey Hayden för att trösta mig. Tror att jag ska skaffa boken i fråga och läsa den. Brukar tycka om Torey Haydens böcker om utvecklingstörda eller traumatiserade barn.
Jag tycker om mitt vanliga timvikariat.
Inte så mycket att jag inte skulle ta ett fast jobb istället, eller ett timvik som bibliotekarie istället, men det duger.

Lördagsjobb


Vaknbade först klockan 5.59, men det visste jag inte då min mobil låg på laddning. Tänkte därmed att jag skulle gå upp och hämta den och kolla vad glaset hade slagit. Så jag svänger benen över sängkanten och reser mig upp.

PANG (eller snarare BLAFF) säger det och jag befinner mig på golvet brevid sängen. Jag är mer förvånad än har ont och Jonny rusar upp för att fråga hur det är. Ena benet har inte kunnat bära min tyngd. Vänstra benet ok när jag viftar på det, men högran svarar inte. Kommer på något sätt upp ändå och petar runt på benet. På utsidan, ovanför knäet är det helt stumt, muskeln reagerar inte vare sig när jag tänker på att röra den eller när jag petar på den och masserar.
"Den sover" konstaterar jag. Sträckte ut benen och sov en timme till så, och när jag vaknade var det helt ok.
Nu är saken den att jag får mer och mer sådana här problem med benen på nätterna. Det här var första gången jag ramlade för jag brukar inte gå upp när jag vaknar. Men det händer titt som tätt att vadmusklerna får kramp som är svår att lösa. Nån som har tips?

Annars åt jag kokt ägg, kaffe och två skivor stekt fläsk till frukost. Kom på att havregrynen var slut.

fredag 17 augusti 2007

Daglig verksamhet


Fortfarande deppig och hängig på morgonen. Bad om och fick en kram av Lisa. Det hjälpte en del. Cyklade runt i stadsdelen och jobbade och lyssnade på Kents skiva Du och Jag Döden på repeat i iPoden.
Blev tillfrågad om jag kunde tänka mig att hoppa in under lördagen på en annan enhet och tackade ja.

Åt lunch på Vårväderstorgets grillkök och åt i ensamhet då Lisa redan hade ätit. Satt och tänkte, men inte så värst intensivt. Rolig eftermiddag och sedan gick jag ner för att hälsa på den andra enheten. Jobbade totalt från 7.30 till 18.10 idag.
Tänker använda de pengar som blir över till att börja ta körkort.

När jag och Jonny kom hem ringde jag Fanny och bjöd över henne på hemmagjord smörgåstårta som blev väldigt lyckad. Jag börjar allt mer få min mormors hand med mat och det är jag tacksam över. Klockan är 22.00 och Fanny har precis gått hem.

The Host


När jag fortfarande var ledsen framåt kvällen begav jag mig över till David för att se på film.

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Gycklargruppen A.S.S var kvar.

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David hade gjort Biff Tartar till sig och Janne. Jag fick smaka och det var gott.

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torsdag 16 augusti 2007

Deppigt


Efter att ha varit på fiket deppade jag ihop nästan totalt. Sitter och tröstar mig med Kent och undrar när och om allt kommer att bli bättre. Ska det krävas att jag måste byta bekantskapskret vartannat eller var tredje år för att hålla mig stimulerad? Jag vill inte det. Jag hade hoppats att relationerna skulle djupna med de vänner jag har här i Göteborg.

Månadens erbjudande 

I en hyrd bil
Mellan Essingen och Kransen
Hör jag en melodi
Som säger: Här är sista chansen nu

Jag undrar var du är

Du spyr kritik
Du sätter fingrarna i halsen
Du sa: Varför gör du musik?
För alla aporna på skansen nu
Undrar var du är

Jag har visat var jag står

Var du än ville gå
Så följde jag med dig
Jag var tärnan i ditt släp
Din livegna lakej

Var du än ville gå
Jag satte allt på spel
För dig gjorde jag allting fel

Om du var ett krig
Var jag väl terrorbalansen
Vi var musik
För eliten ute på kanten nu
Undrar var du är

Jag har visat var jag står

När du går så följer jag med dig
Jag var tärnan i ditt släp
Din livegna lakej 

Vad du än ville nå
Jag satte allt på spel
För dig gjorde jag allting fel

Var du än ville gå
Så följde jag med dig
Jag var tärnan i ditt släp
Din livegna lakej

Var du än ville gå
Jag satte allt på spel
För dig gjorde jag allting fel

onsdag 15 augusti 2007

Kursstarter snart


Såg krus, krukor, vaser och skålar på Göfab Tian vid Selma Lagerlöfs torg idag som passar sig mycket bra för lajv. De är i ofärgad ljus och skrovlig lera med något jämnare röd glasyr inuti. Mycket primitiva. Den stora kannan kostade 60 kronor. Dock regnade det och jag blev blöt och nedstämd. Väl på Hjalmar Brantingsplatsen råkade jag både hoppa i en vattenpöl så att de svarta ballerinaskorna blev genomblöta samt upptäckte att det på grund av ett stopp på Götaälvbron var upp till 25 minuters förseningar i trafiken.
Hoppade efter en stunds väntan på buss 21 till Eketrägatan där jag satt i lugn och ro i väntsalen och åt en låglaktos RisiFrutti och torkade.

När jag kom hem låg informationen för kursen Barn och ungdom i mediesamhället på hallmattan. Kursen börjar den 3:e september.

I går kväll tittade jag på film hemma hos David där även hans kusinen, Janne och någragycklare befann sig.

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Gycklarna hette A.S.S och uppträder hela veckan på Kulturkalaset.

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lördag 4 augusti 2007

Lugn dag.


Kom upp först vid ett trots att Jonny gav mig frukost på sängen. Lite småförkyld. Tog en dusch och efter det kom David och Janne över för att låna symaskin och hålla på och laga saker. Jag och Janne lagade mat ihop, en hittepå-gryta, som en blandning mellan Kalle Burbäcks recept på Krighjärta 1 och kalops med vitlök i. Gott blev det i vilket fall som helst. Jag bakade dessutom bröd, en Foccacia, samt bjöd på förrätt i form av räkor.

Den 2:e fotograferade Barbro Hagman ett TON bilder på mig som Jungfrun av Toulonne, som jag spelar på Krighjärta lajven.

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Fler bilder finns på
http://picasaweb.google.se/Wonderkarin/JungfrunAvToulonne

Närmaste lajvet är nämligen Krigshjärta II
http://www.krigshjarta.se/

Men jag sitter och tänker på lite andra koncept jag skulle vilja spela i framtiden, på andra lajv. Bland annat "Kära bror, Kära syster" och "Helerskan", båda koncepten kan jag tänka mig skulle fungera ganska väl på Kastarialajven om jag inte kan fortsätta som Nencia del Curore Ferai.

Ett annat koncept byggt utan tilltänkt lajv är "Elementarmagikern" som skall ha fyra elementära medhjälpare. Janne har redan sagt sig vilja vara med om konceptet antas av något lajv. Jag lovar halvt om halvt att sy något extraordinärt för magikern själv om konceptet godtas.

torsdag 5 juli 2007

Gambeson II


Jonny i Gambesonen
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Detaljer
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Stolta ägarinnan. :D

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tisdag 3 juli 2007

Gambeson


Framstycket och bakstycket till gambesonnen klara.

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Gambeson


Framstycket och bakstycket till gambesonnen klara.

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onsdag 27 juni 2007

Inkvisitorns vapenrock och mössa.




Jag har den senaste tiden arbetat med en vapenrock till min inkvisitor Nencia till Kastarialajvet I Cirkeln av Stål.
Här är resultatet.

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En trend för Kastarialajven är alla dessa fåniga mössor. Jag föll för trenden och sydde en sådan igår.

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Här är den på, jag ska eventuellt komplettera med slöja.

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Här syns ett fint och stämningsfullt stilleben med den servett som ska användas under lajvet.

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lördag 16 juni 2007

Talulah Jezebel: 1954



1954 

Snow rarely falls on New Orleans. Most recently, a small amount of snow fell during the 2004 Christmas Eve Snowstorm. On December 25, a combination of rain, sleet, and snow fell on the city, leaving some bridges icy. Before that, the last white Christmas was in 1954 and brought 4.5 inches of snow.

It's 1954 again.
Laos has just become independent; the US has tested a hydrogen bomb on the Bikini Atoll. In New Orleans Jimmy Cooper has been found innocent to the murder of his wife, uptown socialite and model Amelie Woolfolk "Diddie" Cooper who was found bludgeoned to death two years earlier. Her murder will never be solved.
But this isn't a known fact in December 1954.
 It is snowing. Jeremiah stands in a relaxed pose by the window with a cigarette in his soft, long fingered hand. His young looking face and his attention is turned towards the outside world and the white flakes which are slowly descending upon it. Some ashes fall from his cigarette onto the carpet. Kitty the malkavian sits, wearing a modern pink dress with a matching jacket made out of raw silk, in a sturdy office chair by the heavy wooden desk. She's writing one of her letters. Jeremiah took her diaries away, so now she writes letters instead. More than half are addressed to dead people. It's not a morbid thing; it's just that she doesn?t remember right now that they are dead. She remembers that she misses them, and so she writes them, drops them a note to tell them so.

Mister Jeremiah slowly smokes his cigarette. The smoke lingers in the air around him. Everything is oh so still. The only sound comes from Kitty?s pen against the paper. Jeremiah puts his free hand against the glass, as if to touch the night outside. He breaks the silence, violates it with his voice.
"Kitty."
The sound of pen on paper stops. Kitty looks up from her letter. She puts the pen down, quickly adjust her beehive hairdo and opens the small metal box in front of her containing thin, long cigarettes without letting him go with her eyes.
"Yes, Mr J?"
He turns away from the window to face her.
"Close your eyes, Kitty. Relax."
"Can I smoke?"
She holds the silver lighter in her well manicured hand and when he nods she gently lights her Lady?s Slim, puffs on it and closes her eyes. He actually bought her new cigarettes last night just before the tobacco store closed for Christmas, because they had run out and she never remembered to buy them herself.
"Count down from ten."
Kitty smokes and counts with closed eyes. Jeremiah walks up to the desk.
"It is summer." He says.
"Remember summertime. The air is hot and humid even at night. People ask you if you know Mardi Gras Mambo by the Hawkettes. They ask you a lot. You go to church. Who is in the church?"
Kitty nods, eyes closed, and answers.
"Reverend Hosaia. He holds a sermon for anyone who will listen."
"Who else is there? Is his daughter there?"
A smile flutters over Kitty's lips.
"Yes."
" What is she doing? Is he doing anything to her?"
A look of worry.
"He's holding her arm, showing the congregation something. It's her wounds. He strokes the hair out of her face. There is blood on her forehead. She doesn't want them to look. She wants to hide, but she doesn't know how too."
Instead Kitty herself starts to fade in front of him. He sits down on the desk and waits patiently for her to return. Minutes pass and so he lights another cigarette, after which the chair fills up once more.

"Who hurt her, Kitty?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know or you don't remember?"
"I don't know."
He gives her some time, but when no further answer is given he moves on.
"What happens next?"
"The doors swings open and they are there, all of them. Clan Gangrel of New Orleans. Everyone else leaves immediately. Everyone except me."
"What do they want?"
"They are angry. Their leader is angry. The Reverend is angry too. I think they might have fought each other if they were anywhere else. But the Gangrels respect his church. The leader points at me. Then he points at Jezebel. The Reverend shakes his head. Then one Gangrel comes up to Talulah and one comes up to me. The one who walks up to Talulah picks her up and starts to walk away with her. Their leader holds The Reverend back even though it really takes all he's got. Reverend Hosaia shouts something about promises and how this was already settled. He says they've got it all wrong. The whole time Talulah just stares, but she's staring at me, not her sire. They take her with them. Into the night."

Jeremiah extinguishes his cigarette in the marble ash tray and asks:
"Who came up to you?"
"Axel did. He's a nice young gangrel. He likes music almost as much as I do."
"Kitty. What happened to Axel?"
A wave of emotion moves across her face and suddenly she's seems grief-stricken.
"It..I..I killed him."
"Then who are you writing to, Kitty?"
She opens her eyes to look down at the letter lying in front of her. She reads the first two lines to herself. She starts to smile.
"I'm writing to Axel. He's a nice young Gangrel I know. He likes music almost as much as I do."
She picks up the black fountain pen and continues where she left off. Elegant handwriting slowly fills the paper.

Jeremiah sighs and puts his smooth silver cigarette casing back into his inner breast pocket and returns to the place by the window.
"Hosaia"
He murmurs to himself.
"How many must suffer for your mistakes before it's over?"
He then picks up a small notebook with black leather covers from the left hand pocket of his brown jacket and produces a pencil. He flips through the notenook until he finds a list titled Gangrel - N O. At the very end it says Axel (1952). He draws a line through the name and adds:

1954

onsdag 13 juni 2007

Lenorisk ryttarbyxa



Den lenoriska ridbyxan är uppfunnen! Efter att ha slaktat ett gammalt par byxow och slavat framför symaskinen har jag omvandlat över 400 kr i tyg till något snyggt.
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torsdag 31 maj 2007

Talulah Jezebel: Alternate Endings part 2


Talulah Jezebel: Alternate Endings
Del 2

And then she couldn't remember. Then she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember. Couldn't remember. Remember.

Lights. Bright lights. Fluorescent strip lights was mounted to the ceiling above Talulah Jezebel. She was lying down, on top of something which was very soft. Her chest hurt. She immediately sat up to get a better look at her surroundings. A bed, she was on an unfamiliar bed, some blood, probably her own, had stained the white sheets. There wasn't much of it though. It was a rather large bed, in a rather large room. Stiel was sitting in his comfortable couch made of black leather and chromed metal. When he saw her stirring he put away what ever he was reading. It looked like some kind of a transcript. "I've taken quite a good portion of your memories now." He said. "A lot of people just gone, poof, like that. But do you know what? I'm going to let you remember Archon Király. Because in time, you will, like everyone else who works for me long enough feel for me, like you felt for him. And do you know the twist? The wonderful little twist?" She shook her head. It felt strangely empty. "I am going to leave Király's mind almost intact. Every night when he wakes up he will remember exactly who you are, and what you have done for his sake." And with that thought he left her. And through that whole night, she did not move.

She slept because morning came. She awoke because night returned. There was even more blood on the sheets. Her black leather coat was hanging from the washing-stand. She realized that she wasn't hungry any more. A warm hand touched her shoulder. She spun around. There was nothing there. Then came a distant fluttering, like that of bird wings. A voice. Whisperings. She twitched. It sounded like they were saying "The law, the path, the plan."
"Who's there?" Her voice trembled as she asked. Once again, the feeling of presence, and a sound like an enormous sigh was drawn. She felt a breath of wind in her chamber and then it all died away. "Who are you talking to, Fräulein?" Said Stiel who's sudden appearance almost startled her as much. She ran too him, pressing herself to the glass, searching for his blue eyes. "Please, there is someone in here." He raised one hairless eyebrow in disbelief, hands behind his back, suit immaculate. "There shouldn't be, Fräulein. Only yourself." One of Herr Stiels four armed servants was operating her door to open it. "Are you ready for your meeting with Király?" She veered away from the memory, like it was too painful to touch. "No need to wash, I am sure a little dirt and...blood wouldn't change the way he feels about you." She stepped out, relieved to leave the cell behind and eyed the four armed monstrosity warily. "Fräulein?" She looked down at her hands. Claws. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm sorry, Herr Stiel." "Ah, no need to be. It still happens sometimes, Fräulein, must be a reflex. This way." They walked for a while, got into an elevator, as tastefully decorated as everything else in white, black and frosted glass. It stopped at the top floor and opened to a luxurious pent house office. Stiel and Talulah entered, followed by his helper. "Király?" she whispered in an asking tone of voice and twitched.
"Ah, yes." Stiel had walked a bit further into the room, collecting a remote control from a table. He pointed it towards a wall and pushed a button. A curtain slowly was withdrawn showing what had been hidden beyond.

It was still Király. It looked like Király. Somehow he had been mounted to a frame which in its turn was fixed to the white wall. But he had no legs beneath his knees and no arms beneath the elbow. Then she realized that it was those that the frame had been crafted from. Her hand flew to her mouth, the other then reached out towards him. "One night" said Stiel behind her "you might be tempted to let Király free. I would not do that if I were you. Because you understand Talulah, that Király is very, very hungry from now on. I have seen to that." She let her sight stretch beyond the world, and into the otherworldliness. There was not only Király there, something was inhabiting his broken body alongside with him. And the only things he felt was hate, and hunger.

"But still" Stiel continued "I am going to let you remember him and what you feel for him, I'll let you remember. Because I am kind. That, and because the fact that I am going to keep him as an ornament in my office is going to feel so much worse." There was a shimmer in the air next to Király. It was vaguely humanoid, but a lot taller than both herself and Stiel, who seemed not to notice. It was coagulating more and more as Talulah watched, coalescing into what seemed like a woman. It turned towards the Király ornament and gently as a breezed gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. Talulah blinked. The woman was gone. She twitched.

Years went by.
In time Talulah Jezebel Fritz hardly existed at all. There where times when she'd disappeared totally for hours, only to bee seen on the cameras posted everywhere in the complex. She existed as a handy shadow for Stiel, devoted, like all his other servants. And then one night Stiel was talking on the phone. He was walking around the office, not really thinking about the fact that he brought his handy Gangrel. And all the whispering came back to Talulah. She twitched and then she, without as much as glancing in Herr Stiel's direction dragged one of the steady couches across the thick carpet to where it stood in front of the Király-ornament, and then got a chair which she propped up against the wall on top of it. When she had climbed her tower she had come face to face with the captive Király. He stirred, as if it was feeding time. He remembered her. She remembered him.

And so she brought her hand up, and claws grew through her fingertips and hardened. She whispered words as softly as she could into his ear. Tears of blood formed in the corner of her eyes and spilled over. She was crying now. After all these years. And then she plunged her hand right through his chest and pulled out his heart. Final death was immediate. She stood there looking at her bloodied hand as his ashen heart slipped through her fingers. His distorted body withered away, loosening from the wall and fell to the floor. Király the warrior, Király the Gangrel, Archon Király, Hero of Gothenburg, Hero of Sweden was no more.

"Now. Why did you have to go and do that?" Stiel hung up on his investor. He looked mad. But she couldn't tell. She could never tell with him. She didn't care now. She was numb. She trusted Herr Stiel now. She trusted him to act. He'd know best what to do now. Two of his freaks entered the room. "Nothing to do about it now." Herr Stiel gestured towards Talulah. "Feed her to the mouth. At least she can feed the devourer."

They put her in the back of one of the vans; encased in the same kind of frame they put her in her first night in the complex. Herr Stiel didn't even care to come with them, it was like they were taking out the trash to him. She was alone in the darkness. No. Not alone. There was a tiny light. It grew.
"Hello Talulah."
"It's me. I know we haven't talked in a long time. But do not feel fear. You are still acting according to the plan. You still remember what I asked of you when you were dead. This is where you have always been heading. You are doing my will. You are going where angels fear to tread."


The End.

måndag 28 maj 2007

Talulah Jezebel: Alternate Endings


Det som följer är en what If-berättelse. Den passar inte in Kindred Societys övriga story.

Lights. Bright lights. Fluorescent strip lights was mounted to the ceiling above Talulah Jezebel. She was lying down, on top of something which was very soft. Her chest hurt. She immediately sat up to get a better look at her surroundings. A bed, she was on an unfamiliar bed, some blood, probably her own, had stained the white sheets. There wasn't much of it though. It was a rather large bed, in a rather large room. "So you are awake already? How very...interesting. My name is Stiel. Willhelm Stiel, senior chairman of Bauwalt Developments." The hairs on her neck stood up at the sound of that voice. One of the walls, which she had been sure moments ago had been milky white had disappeared. Instead a couch with a man sitting in it was visible. He was the origin of the voice she had heard. He smiled at her. She did not like his smile. Talulah only looked at him with empty, black eyes. He was tall; she could see that even though he was sitting down. His hair was strawberry blonde, as his beard and her was wearing a suit that she had the distinct feeling had cost a quite a lot of money. Splashed across his face were freckles. He had no eyebrows; but instead he was sporting that small and vicious smile. "But that is not why I am here to talk to you about. I want you to tell me all you know about clan Gangrel in Gothenburg." She gave him a sour look and tried to get a clearer view of what his intentions might be with her soul sight when suddenly there was a horribly bright flash from behind him, which seared her retina painfully. Her hand flew to her eyes by instinct and a small yelp could be heard as an expression of her pain. "Oh, I know all about that. The eye of your clan back in Gothenburg. None of that here. Do you understand?" Another bright flash went of. She hid her face in her hands again. "You are Talulah Jezebel Fritz. I want you to tell me everything." Slowly she let all the colors in the world fade away, let it become mundane, then she returned his gaze. "No." She managed to whisper. "It is not really a matter of choice. You will tell me, and you will tell me soon. We have your friend too. Király." And then she remembered.

The weather was absolutely perfect this evening. But there was like a smell of death in the air already when they got ready to leave. Vanja had called, asking that Király meet her upon her return to Sweden. Basha hadn?t been too happy about Vanja choosing Király above herself, but there really wasn't anything she could do about it. Then Basha said that she wanted to come along, but Király turned her down. Instead he asked Talulah to come, to watch his back.

She was running quickly towards Stiel now, wanting to rend him to pieces, wanting to get out of the room. To find Király. What she found was a wall made out of glass, and that discovery came with the sound of it hitting across her face. She sagged to the floor. Maybe there was a small chuckle coming from her captor, she couldn?t really tell. Something hot was gushing down her face; she felt it and looked at her hand. Nosebleed. She looked up at him again. One of the flashes went off, but it did not hurt as bad now that the world was grey. Looking at him just made things worse. She was so close now, there was only glass between them and when she was sitting on the floor and he on his couch it was such a subservient position. He leaned forward, tiny malevolent pig eyes scrutinizing her. "They sure don?t make them as they used to. Be still." She couldn't move.

Talulah had trailed behind Király, just like he had told her. Close enough for her to see anything that might appear and close enough for him to hear her call out if she did. When they arrived to the end of the road where Király was supposed to meet Vanja there was a large space, covered in gravel. Probably there so that cars would have somewhere to turn around on when they realized they had gotten to the end of the road. In the middle of this area stood Vanja, unmoving. Something was hanging from her head. Instead of crying out to her, Király silently made his way down the slope and crossed the open area. A knot made out of the feeling that something was wrong suddenly started to form in the pit of Talulah's stomach. Something about Vanja just wasn't quite right. This was when Talulah had heard the cars. Engines speeding a long in the night. She heard the sound of their powerful engines. And suddenly an armada of black vans started to pour into the area. Király tried to get Vanja to move, but she did not budge. Instead he took a defending stance by her side. Talulah's hand frantically searched for the cell phone in the right hand pocket of her long leather coat. There it was, and she hit the panic-button which Taylor had explained to her would alert her coterie, the Alliance, that she was in danger, and where she was at the moment. Talulah felt then felt her claws pushing trough the flesh of her fingertips and hardening. These claws that could rend metal. She started to run.
As soon as a van had stopped, its side door was pushed open and people started to come out. They were large men, all of them, and their gear was as black as the cars. They were literally covered in protection gear. And they all went for Király with what to Jezebel was an unfamiliar type of gun. He was surrounded and so he did what Király would always do. He tore into them. This was the moment when Jezebel heard the familiar sound of a helicopter closing in above. The search light appeared above the tree-line and fixed itself on the fight billowing below. She tried to get a look at the helicopter itself, but the light had been to bright and burned her eyes. Then something hit her that stung right through her thick hide. She had been noticed. The man in swat-gear raised his weapon again, but he was dead before he could pull the trigger. She had to get to Király.
The death count was rising around Király. There were bodies everywhere where he had been. He certainly had taken a big chunk out of the arriving troops. Trouble was that there were still more vans coming, stopping by the side of the road and releasing even more people to the fight. Jezebel continued to slowly advance towards his position, he was slowing down and this gripped her with fear. He stopped, just for a millisecond, to gain his bearings in the bright light of the helicopters search light. He had no way of seeing her, enclosed in that cone of bright light. He stood alone and then someone she couldn't see pushed a stake right trough his heart. She thought she saw the shadow of a four armed giant of a man beyond the light. She was riding frenzy now, but not giving in too it however badly she wanted too. Slash left, someone gave a up a painful moan. Slash right, she was getting there, advancing. The helicopter was landing. Whoever had staked Király was clearly heading for it. Jezebel wasn't trying to engage in battle with anyone, and they seemed to be backing away from her now that they've gotten what they came for. She picked up the pace, now that she was able to run. Kept her eyes on the helicopter. A man emerged from it. Strawberry blond, tall, with freckles splashed across his face. His suit was immaculate, so very out of place in this field of death. And his soul, gray, like a slate of rock, like a lead sheet. Then he noticed her and the very faintest of smiles appeared. Gray aura shifted and disappeared and gave room to what really was there. And it was horrible.

Willhelm Stiel looked in confusion at the Gangrel that had been heading straight for him up until a second ago. She had, quite suddenly, tensed up, then kept going for just a moment by the pure momentum of speed built up until that was used up, landing her quite harshly on the ground in front of him. He very carefully prodded her with his shoe, but she didn't move. He then looked towards one of the closest soldiers which had finished loading Király on the helicopter. He nodded towards the girl lying in front of him. "Bringt ihr mit auch." And so she was loaded into the helicopter which made a lift of towards a distant country. When they had gained enough altitude a small object was thrown out of the machine. Talulah Jezebel's cell phone was immediately smashed into lots of tiny pieces as soon as it hit the ground. 


She could not move from her sitting position by the glass. She couldn't turn her head to look at who was entering trough the door to her left, what the origin of that metallic sound was. There were still random flashes? going off so if she tried sneaking a peek into the otherworldliness it would only hurt her eyes again, that bright light. Many hands gripped her, strong, and big hands. She was raised up, then lifted like she was a little toy. One of them moved into her line of sight. It looked just like the one who had staked Király. She twitched. The monster stopped working. He seemed to be eyeballing her, but when she didn?t move further he continued. They were strapping her into something. Her feet was on some kind of plate, and what felt like metal cables were tying her legs to a stable frame. They secured the rest of her in the same way, and the whole time she wasn't able to move. Then they tipped her a backwards a bit and the whole contraption started moving. It must have wheels. In front of her, on the other side of the glass, Stiel stood up, and absentmindedly corrected his tie. He still had a small, almost undetectable smile on his lips. Jagged teeth were visible if one paid enough attention, and Talulah sure was focused.

The door had actually been a part of the glass wall, she just hadn't noticed it before, and now it opened once more to let her through. Even though the monster who was obviously behind her to pushing her along had four hands she was certain she had felt even more and so there must be more of them. It was like some of the things she had seen with the Sabbath. He started speaking again. "I must say, that it was extremely fortunate, a strange twist of fate that I was to run into you." He said with what almost sounded like sincere flattering to his voice as he walked alongside her in her captured state. "Another name on the list to mark of. All in one evenings work. The eye...blinded." They were making way down a corridor with white walls and some kind of marble floor. It was still very bright, lit every few meters with lamps covered in frosted glass. It was actually very tasteful and...modern.
The corridor opened up into some kind of lobby with many doors made out of frosted glass. And so Stiel headed for the one straight ahead. The double doors opened up automatically and they entered.
"Being a seer, you know more than most. Ah, no need to answer that one, rhetorical question." The room had a metallic floor, and white walls. Like everywhere else they had been this room too was very bright. There were people in it. Normal people in lab coats. But what dominated the room was an enormous X made mainly out of metal. A St. Andrew's cross, a crux decussate. But instead of being joined at the middle there was an opening, a rhombus frame of metal bars welded together; and into this the arms in turn were mounted. The massive structure was mounted to the floor with enormous bolts. It seemingly had strenght enough to hold an old Brujah, of that she was sure. They stopped in front of it, and she was turned to face it. The monster who had been pushing her did something behind her and there was a metallic sound, metal on metal. She realised that Stiel had been watching her reaction, and that he was really close now. "You might think that this one is for you. But from those marks we found on you?..I'd say you had more than your fair share of such things." Mentally she cringed at his words. He paused, standing next too her, she felt she could move again, as much as the contraption allowed her too. She turned her neck and looked at him. His continued to look at the Saint Andrew's cross but leaned in closer towards her. "You know. I have the means, the ways to find out what you know anyway." He turned his face towards her. It was blank. "But I believe that would be far too...crude." His blue eyes, it was like they didn't only purvey hunger...they were already eating her. She tried to break away, but they were locked to his in horror. "And now, if Fräulein Talulah here is ready, I think it is time to bring him in." The faint smile returned, he brought his hands together and let her of the hook, return his gaze to the room. She dreaded what was to come.

They hadn't cared about strapping Király into any transporting device. The same kind of monster which had rolled her into the room came, accompanied by another one, carrying him in one set of his four arms. Király still had the stake through him, and his blue tattered jersey had some blood on it where it had come out the other side. She realized what force must have been behind the blow, as he was wearing his bullet-proof vest and it still had gone right through him. What was visible of his olive skin spotted strange wounds, which looked cauterized. His weathered leather coat was missing. A whimper pressed its way between her lips when she saw him. There hadn?t been any bright flashes since they left her cell. She slowly let all the colors of the real world, the world beyond creep back. She just had to know how he was doing. Immediately the souls of the four armed beast lit up. Controlled madness. The kind of devoted love a ghoul feels for it?s master, and something fouler and much darker thrown into the mess. Király was pure anger, riding the frenzy. ?Yes. You look. You look now.? Stiel was almost whispering, but she heard him loud and clear. One of them lifted Király above himself and held him to the cross. He then used one of his free hands to hold the left arm to the Saint Andrew?s Cross. She saw now that the arms of the Saint Andrew?s Cross had grooves into which wood had been fitted. The other four armed ghoul picked up what looked like an enormous nail gun or a bolt gun. She twitched. Stiel stepped into her view again. ?Be still.? Once more she froze up. He then did something very, very odd. He released her right hand and held it in his own, thumb pressed slightly into the palm of her hand. She saw the ripples of pain in Király?s aura as they pressed the trigger once. The nails were like those used when you laid out rail road tracks, and every one of them had a big head shaped like a cross. She felt the pressure from Stiel?s thumb hardening and then her claws pressing out through her fingertips, only on that hand. She hadn?t willed it, but seeing Király in such pain?
?Aw?just like a kitten.? There was a strange tone to Stiel?s voice which she couldn?t identify. He released her hand, and immediately the claws retracted. She felt cold metal locking her wrist to her body again.
They put four nails into each arm and four into each leg and each time the nail hit bone; the ripples in Király?s aura were smaller. He was mastering the pain. It wasn?t new to him. He was Király. This gave her hope.
The whole time they worked on him one of them was holding him up, so that his weight wouldn?t be unevenly distributed. Then they were finished and looked at Stiel who gave a small nod. One of them removed the stake. Király was opening his mouth to say something, but then the one which was holding him suddenly let go which led to his body dropping a few inches. Flesh and bone creaked and his eyes widened, showing a lot of white. She felt her own body mimicking his reaction with the difference that she did actually give a sound. He didn?t need to scream, she knew, she saw exactly what he felt at the moment he felt it.

?Now.? Said Stiel, looking at some papers one of the men in lab-coats had handed him and producing a pair of glasses from a pocket. ?We could start with this Basha. Tell me about Basha, Fräulein Talulah.? Talulah looked at Király. He shook his head and spoke ?Give them nothing.? He was still defiant
She shook hers, mimicking him. ?No.? She twitched. Stiel looked at her. Then turned to one of the men in lab-coats who scurried away. ?How unfortunate. For Király that is. That means Doktor Schmitt gets to work on him.? From the same door that they had entered with Király another man in a lab-coat entered. He looked like he was in his early thirties and was clean shaved, with short brown hair and sporting a pair of thick rimmed glasses from the fifties. Next to him walked a man dressed exactly the same who was pushing a medical steel cart covered with a white linen cloth upon which a diversity of things was laid out, including a powered bone saw. They stopped behind the Saint Andrew?s cross, but she could still see the doctor. The assistant got an extension cable so that they could plug the bone saw in. ?Now.? Stiel said with what sounded like glee. ?Doktor Schmitt here trained with Doktor Mengele in Auschwitz, and later followed him to Mauthausen camp after which he became a free agent so to say. He specialises in pain. Because, as we all know? Stiel nodded to them both, like they were old acquaintances talking about the weather or who was winning the baseball league. ?People like you, Fräulein Talulah, and like you, Herr Király very often have an unusually high threshold to pain.? At the same time the assistant was removing some blue cloth from Király?s back, probably his jersey and pieces of his bullet-proof vest. She didn?t se what tools he used. But she saw Doktor Schmitt picking up a scalpel, and then the assistant lighting what looked like a small welding flame so they could cauterise the wound as they were cutting. There was a smell of burning flesh in the air.

When they were done with this the bone saw started whirring with a high pitched noise in the hand of Doktor Schmitt. Both he and his assistant donned plastic visors. The bone saw it changed pitch as it started cutting into Király and the bone of his back. His body tensed up and he made a grimace, tensing his jaw. Then the smell of vampire blood came. It reminded her of how hungry she really was. The beast stirred when her eyes saw how small spatters of blood hit the metal floor beneath him. Hadn?t it been for the sound of the saw she was certain she would have heard the pit pat of every drop. Suddenly the Doktor hit some large vein or artery and quite a lot of blood sloshed out on the floor. It must have gotten on the blade as well because the doctor and his assistant both got hit over their visors with a splash of blood. Now the assistant got something from Doktor Schmitt which he put into a stainless steel bowl. It was a vertebra split into two parts. Király?s vertebra. Then came another, and another. Three vertebrae. She looked at Király again. He was hanging from the nails in his arms now, looking dead tired, but when he saw her looking he still shook his head. Then he drew back into himself, where she could not reach him. ?Doktor Schmitt, if you would please describe what you are doing? For the audience sake?? The Doktor peeked out from behind the St Andrew's cross so that she could see his face behind the visor. ?Yes Herr Stiel.? He felt pride of his work, and was more than pleased to describe the procedure. ?The edges of the wound is cauterized, but there is still a risk that of immediate re-growth in the area, and so? he picked up what looked like a piece of metallic tubing which was open on one side. ?we fit this titanium around the spinal cord, to keep it open to stimulation.? There was moment of silence as he did what he had just described. ?This generally delays re-growth considerably.?

The assistant pulled the plug that connected the power saw to the extension cable. He then got some kind of generator, or pump, or otherwise complicated item out from under the medical wagon. Until now it had been covered in the no longer pristinely white linen sheet on the cart. He plugged this one into the extension cord instead. ?And here? Doktor Schmitt explained ?Is the so called stimulator.? He removed the visor and adjusted his glasses. ?We could off course have given it a ah, fancier name. What it does is, quite simply, short circuits the ability to block out pain.? He smiled dryly. ?Herr Stiel, if you please?? Doktor Schmitt was holding something that looked like a very thick hypodermic needle connected to the stimulator, obviously meaning for Stiel to take it. ?Will you do me the honor?? She didn?t need to look at Stiel to know that he smiled as he passed her, crossing over to the cross and taking the needle from Doktor Schmitt. ?Now, Fräulein Talulah. I could ask you again about Basha. Or Laiyla Kaun or Orzos kid John Taylor. But I?m not going to do that just now. Because I want to do this.? And then he jabbed the needle straight into Király?s spinal cord.

She still had her soulsight on when this happened. That was a mistake. Not only did Stiel let down his gray lead sheet, exposing the vile, inhabited glow of his corrupted soul. But the sheer force of Király?s pain hit her like the power of a tsunami. She could have closed her eyes, she could have chosen not to receive. But she was pinned to the horror, and the only thing she could do for him was share. She felt claws extending again, arms chafing against metal cable, trying with all her might to break free. Király was screaming, he was actually screaming in a way that she had never heard anyone scream. She could see the pain like a white hot spear, like he himself was partly see through. It the color of searing white hot metal and was going from the removed vertebrae, all the way through his chest, through his vocal cords and throat and exiting through his face. He?d been impaled. All of his body was tensed, short circuited. Then the moment passed. The needle had been withdrawn.
She heard herself growling. Her wrists were smearing the steel cables with blood as they tried to work themselves through. She tried to rock to frame she was tied to, tried to make it fall over, but it seemed anchored to something. Through all of her, vampiric power pulsed and surged. She felt HATE, and she wanted to kill and the object of this desire was standing right there, right in front of her. "Stiel?" she growled.

"Behold." Stiel answered whilst giving the needle back to Doktor Schmitt. ?the Gangrel hero Király. Archon under Madam Guil of clan Toreador. Hero of Gothenburg. Hero of Sweden. Champion and pride of the Camarilla. It really isn?t right, you know, for someone such as yourself to put him through such inconveniences. You being a mere neonate and all that.? She twitched. Stiel nodded to Doktor Schmitt who immediately gave Király another dose. She bit her tongue but forced herself to watch again. The metallic taste filled her mouth, giving some amount of comfort, but only the kind of comfort a Gangrel gets from getting dangerously close to her beast. Now it was whispering to her of all the lovely things they would do to Stiel once they got free. But Stiel seemed to notice this. ?Ah, Talulah, I can see that you are, upset. Can?t have that, can we?? He gave a hand signal to someone behind her. One of the men in lab coats, he had a syringe in his hand with what looked like blood. There was something? moving inside of it. Something that was, in a way, alive. He quickly, and with quite some skill, inserted the hypodermic needle into the side of her neck and injected the content. First, it just made her less on edge. Then she noticed that she couldn?t hear the beast anymore, hear her beast. The whispering had died away as the content of the needle spread its poison through her.

?Too bad we had to resort to that. Now, we will talk again. And for every wrong answer you give me, Herr Király will suffer unpleasantness. And if you refuse to answer. Same thing, I?m afraid.?

Hours. It must have been hours. She told herself it must have been hours. After the first few jabs of the needle pearls of bloody sweat broke on Király?s brow. She herself had started bleeding as usual by then. The wounds on her back opened up and refused to close themselves. The tiny pricks on her forehead also reopened, and the next time the needle hit large droplets of blood formed, swelled and toppled over to run into her eyes. You could very well though she was crying if you looked at her. But Talulah wasn?t. This went on for hours. She told herself that it was hours. Her lips open and closed in murmured prayer. God had a plan, she believed in the plan. There must be a meaning even to this. Always. Always. Holy. Holy. God was with her. God was with them. God was with her. God have mercy.

?Please have mercy.? She was surprised to hear her voice. It was steady now. ?How nice.? Stiel was all smiles now. ?Fräulein has decided to talk to us. At last.? He moved his hand and Doktor Schmitt lowered the needle and took a step away. ?Please. Please.? She implored him. She tried to face her fear, tried to see his soul, what he was thinking, but there was nothing but that grey mass covering what should be there. ?Mercy. No more.? She shifted her black eyed gaze away from him, to the man on the St Andrews cross, to Király. He was coming back now. Returning from whatever hiding place he had found inside himself. She actually waited for him to return completely. She twitched. It was an awful thing that she was going to do, but she needed him there, with her. She wished she could clasp her cross in her hand, but instead she balled her tiny little fist so that her nails cut into the flesh of her palm. Then she extended her claws. They cut right through her hand, burning with aggravated damage as they went. She didn?t deserve better for what she was doing.

?I?ll tell you. I?ll tell you anything I know.? She forced herself not to look away from Király?s face. She needed too see, and accept whatever his judgment would be. To accept Király?s judgment upon her. ?Wonderful. I am so happy that we were able to gain an understanding of each other.? Stiel replied. She couldn?t see his face, as she was concentrating on Király?s. She was reading that he hoped she had some ruse. That she had come up with some clever plan to fool their captor or that she, quite plainly, was lying. He was sending?honor. He thought of Gangrel, and their ancient ways. Of what it meant to be Gangrel. Loyalty.
?Tell me about Basha.? Stiel said. She twitched, and her eyes hurt. It felt like Király?s quiet stare could have burnt a hole right through her. She opened her mouth again, and told all about Basha, even what she had seen in Basha?s soul. He asked about John Taylor from Newcastle. And she told. And the whole time she did not shy away from Király?s darkening gaze. And her soulsight told her even more. He felt she had betrayed them. He felt that she had betrayed their clan. And nothing could be worse than that. Ever. He?hated?her.

She had nothing more to give. There was silence now.
Doktor Schmitt had turned the stimulator of at a wavering of Stiel?s hand and when the sound of the generator died away there was nothing but the sound of an air conditioner somewhere in the other end of the room. She hung from the wire-frame like a used up marionette, putting all her weight on the shackles. She wanted to sleep now, to forget.

"Talulah."
It was his voice. Király's voice. She tried to raise her head again, show her clan leader the respect that had grown right into her spine since the day she first met him. But she didn?t have the strength. His voice was still strong, but cracked from the screaming. It had a low a menacing ring to it. It had judgement in it.
"You...are...not...Gangrel. You will never be Gangrel."

A presence next to her. Stiel. He very gently took her face into his hands. Clasping each cheek in his palms. Blue eyes looking deep into her black ones. "There's a good girl. What harsh words he speaks, Archon Király. He's just mad right now. It will pass." He glanced away, back at Király. "Or maybe not."

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