A Steampunk Community
Them's The Breaks
(This is long. It's my attempt to patchwork together various roleplays from last night and my own narrative of events.)
I have only myself to blame for what happened. Truly, just because it was called the “Absinthe Ball” did not mean I needed to try to fill myself up toes to nose with the stuff... but I did. I vaguely recall leaving the ball after telling others I was walking home to Babbage, which would have been impressive, but as I really cannot walk on water, I was taken pity on by others leaving, and given an airship ride home. I was left off at the café, in a hazy state of mind.
My first mistake was not going directly upstairs to sleep. My second mistake was noticing a new handbill posted across the road near the Brunel Hall Hotel. My third mistake was wobbling over there to read it. My fourth mistake was not paying attention on my way back. I should have heard the trolley approaching, and then I caught a heel in the track… I got loose in time to nearly step free, but took a hard glancing blow from the trolley, which sent me tumbling in a very unladylike manner right into my café.
Luckily, no one was about to laugh at me. Or hear me scream as I tried to push myself back up to my feet. The pain that shot through my left arm drove me near sober. Gingerly, I tested it, poked and prodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. Yes. It was broken. Not one of those horrid bone-jutting injuries, thank goodness, but a grand and wonderful fracture, to be sure.
During my years with Winthrop & Hammerschlinger's Travelling Emporium of Amazement, I’d learned a thing or two about injuries. Any carnie that hasn’t been scraped, bruised, battered and broken a time or two just wasn’t working hard enough. We were far too poor to keep a traveling doc on the payrolls, but we had us some books and plenty of whiskey, and most of us learned to get the job done when needful. I found my way carefully upright, and pulled the whiskey bottle from the oven in the hearth room. (that oven hasn’t worked in years, but makes a great place to tuck away special supplies).
An hour later, I was sitting by the fireplace, sweating profusely, tipsy again, my arm bathed in whiskey and wrapped tightly with shreds of my petticoat. It hurt like blazes but in all the right ways. I managed to get my long-sleeved blouse back on and adjusted. The bandages were snug under my sleeve, which actually helped keep things in place. It was now near dawn. Exhausted, I collapsed on one of the tapestry couches on my patio and slept deeply through the day.
I awoke to the voices of good friends close by. Miss Kat lounged at the table, and Mister Koskinen seemed to catch on quickly that I was in no condition to bustle about serving coffee.
(please mentally picture those wiggly lines that wash over a picture as it dissolves, as we segue to live-action chat now.)
Tinus Koskinen finds the heavy percolator still warm on the stove and some clean cups....pours out two cups of full and one with just a splash. A bit of whiskey in two and fills up the last to the rim. Returns balancing them all carefully.
Tinus Koskinen: There you go Miss Montpark, I am sure I did not ruin the whiskey with too much coffee.
Kat Montpark: Thank ye, Tinus!
Tinus Koskinen: and for you my lounging shop owner, a cup of hot coffee... ((holds out the cup for her))
YoYo Underby: Good evening.
Ceejay Writer: "I make the coffee strong enough to withstand it!"
Ceejay Writer: "Oh, my! Evening, sir."
YoYo Underby: May I sit?
Tinus Koskinen turns suddenly, seeing Mr. Underby, pale as the day he died, "ah, hello sir."
YoYo Underby nods
Ceejay Writer: "Something warm to drink for you sir?"
Kat Montpark: Oi! En't ye th' bloke wot everyone was gabbing about last week?
YoYo Underby: Perhaps a cider if you have it?
YoYo Underby: How are you this evening, Miss Writer?
Ceejay Writer: "Hmm, coffee, tea and absinthe. Oh and hot cocoa. No cider, I'm sorry!"
Ceejay Writer: "A bit weary - a long day! But well. And you?"
Kat Montpark: If ye want coffee, have Tinus make it for ye. Trust me.
YoYo Underby: Ah, absinthe will be fine.
Tinus Koskinen slides in to take a seat next to Mr. Underby, "well sir, I think we are a bit self service tonight, our hostess has her feet up since I have gotten here."
Tinus Koskinen: how is that coffee Ceejay?
YoYo Underby: Oh not bad, just visiting with the clockwinder
Ceejay Writer glances at the absinthe services on the ledge. "Er, yes. I'm sorry, just really all in at the moment."
Ceejay Writer: "Lovely coffee, Tinus! "
Tinus Koskinen tries to hide his anxiety about Underby's visit to Clockwinder, "oh, and how is the Mayor?"
YoYo Underby: Mmm, a tad under the weather, it seemed.
YoYo Underby: A shame he has no one to look after him.
Ceejay Writer looks concerned. "He's ill?"
YoYo Underby: Eh, Miss Writer?
YoYo Underby: He seemed somewhat, yes.
YoYo Underby: Slurring words and whatnot.
Kat Montpark frowns. "He en't bin at th' milk, 'as he?"
YoYo Underby: I saw no milk, no.
Ceejay Writer: "Maybe he needs some."
Tinus Koskinen frowns, unsure how to deal the knowledge that this man held clockwinder in his service, with false jovality he responds "hopefully not Miss Montiparks whiskey"
Tinus Koskinen: "what do you think is wrong with him Mr. Underby?
YoYo Underby: It is hard to say, though it did not seem to be cholera, thank the heavens.
YoYo Underby: Nor consumption.
Ceejay Writer: "Is he in his office? I could have some milk delivered over if it might help."
YoYo Underby: He is.
Tinus Koskinen frowns, "where is he right now?"
Tinus Koskinen: nods.
Kat Montpark isn't a bit tipsy from the whisky, no sir. "Aye, a pint or two will sort 'im out!"
Ceejay Writer: "The last I heard, his clock wasn’t working right. I wonder if he's ill over that."
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps I should go and check on him.
YoYo Underby: Miss Writer, is there really nobody he would have look after him?
Ceejay Writer: "Well, there's the maceholder. I've never heard him mention family. "
Kat Montpark: I always thought th' Clockwinder was th' type t'keep himself t'himself.
Tinus Koskinen: "he has been pretty loveskick since I returned from Arkham with a note from the lady he was interested in."
Ceejay Writer: "Oh, Kat, he's here a lot actually. I rarely see him outside the caf---- what????"
Ceejay Writer splutters. "He's what???"
Kat Montpark spits out her whisk-..coffee.
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps I should check on him.
YoYo Underby: How long has he known this woman?
Ceejay Writer: "Tinus, maybe you should soon? Would you mind?"
Tinus Koskinen: not long sir, and does not even know him. he told me about her, well the night you returned *his worry barely contained on this man's hold on clockwinder*
Kat Montpark: I 'eard something about that, but I thought it was just crazy rumor!
YoYo Underby: Hmm.
Ceejay Writer: "But Sir... I've been to Arkham, on writing assignment. I can't imagine him with anyone from that town."
Tinus Koskinen: actually I had come to talk to you about the lady Miss.
YoYo Underby: I met a philosopher here in town from Arkham.
Tinus Koskinen: she was there with the Dark Carnval, I believe they have moved on to another city but I have not been able to locate them.
Tinus Koskinen: an odd event that night, too long to explain here, but well somehow she left me a note to bring him.
Ceejay Writer: "A carnival girl - oh dear. Well, if she moved on without entraping him, perhaps she's honest."
Ceejay Writer looks at Tinus curiously, as this story comes to light.
YoYo Underby: I should go.
Ceejay Writer: "So, he's smitten with a circus girl who's left town."
YoYo Underby: Miss Writer...
Tinus Koskinen: I will have to look in on him. Why sir, is there something wrong?
Kat Montpark sighs with memories. "They're like ghosts, they are. Ye love 'em in one glorious night and then they disappear with th' morning."
Ceejay Writer eyes Mister Underby curiously.
YoYo Underby: Is there nobody you can think of the mayor might see once a year?
YoYo Underby: Perhaps at Christmas?
Ceejay Writer: "Once a year...... I am at a loss."
Ceejay Writer: "Santa isn't real, you know."
YoYo Underby frowns at Miss Writer
Tinus Koskinen: that scrooge fellow shows up yearly, looking to wring more out of us, if he fits.
YoYo Underby: Hmm
Ceejay Writer: "Oh. Perhaps? Could he be harassing Tenk?"
YoYo Underby: Good evening.
(Mister Underby swiftly leaves)
Tinus Koskinen: or his cousin Odnar makes a showing yearly or so I think.
Ceejay Writer: "Well. Not one for lingering goodbyes, is he?"
And it was just about at this point when Tinus, drat his eagle-eye, noticed a bit of bandage hanging down out of my sleeve. He was understandably anxious to go check on the Clockwinder, but lingered long enough to wrestle the story of my mishap out of me. Miss Jed Dagger, drat HER timing, had arrived in time to overhear.
Soon enough, I had been convinced to allow Jed to inspect my arm, and Tinus ran off to Tenk’s office. I somehow talked Jed out of re-bandaging or heavens forbid, re-breaking my arm, but agreed to her sound advice of using a sling as I healed. She was very careful, even tender, and I relaxed a bit under her attentions. Relaxation turned to exhaustion, and again I dozed.
Much later, I again spoke with Tinus. He had found the clockwinder, asleep, murmuring. I fear he is going through an ordeal of some sort, and am worried on his behalf.
Tinus turned the conversation again towards my injury, and drew from me more of the details and my true concerns about it. Drat that man, anyway!
(wiggly lines again, as we dissolve into chatlog)
Ceejay Writer smiles, then quickly tries to look serious. "I swear this was not a ploy to gain your attentions."
Tinus Koskinen: Miss, you have my attention and need not throw yourself in front of trolleys to keep it. You are not like those ladies that call on Doc Gus for their cure."
Ceejay Writer thinks of those packets Dayafter gives her and tucks on deeper into her pocket. "Ah. My yes. I keep telling them they are not ill, but they go back, time and time again."
Tinus Koskinen notices the movement some nervousness in Miss Writer. Perhaps she is taking my concern as a scolding, he thinks. His voice softens "Are you truly okay?"
Ceejay Writer: "My arm will be fine. It will take time. I'll have to be okay with that... but it's not easy."
Ceejay Writer: "Tinus... it's my writing arm."
Tinus Koskinen: oh my. Now that I had not even thought to ask. Oh how will you continue, perhaps you can take on a secretary?
Ceejay Writer chews her lip. "I'm not sure I can get my thoughts out that way. And my personal journal... it's really quite that. Personal. To trust another this way is hard to think of."
Tinus Koskinen: yes, that does seem like a problem...
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps some type of recording device?
Ceejay Writer: I had pondered the technology of recording.
Tinus Koskinen: yes, I have heard of some work in that area. Ancient and modern.
Ceejay Writer: But saving my words in speech... it's not written, Tinus. They're to be seen, not heard. I just can't seem to imagine this.
Tinus Koskinen: no I definitely can understand. i assume you’re not ambidextrous, and surely not as skilled at that. Perhaps some type of writing device.
Tinus Koskinen: a Typewriter although slow, you can use one arm to operate.
Ceejay Writer: It would be slow, but it might be something to keep me from going mad.
Tinus Koskinen worry slides across his face with realization upon hearing the pain in the lady's voice, for the first time clearly unrelated to his injury. "Oh Ceejay, no problem is unsolvable. Perhaps some type of short hand...
Tinus Koskinen: or trusted companion
Ceejay Writer smiles and pats his hand with her good one. "Perhaps. It's hard to trust my notions outside of my own control. But there are those I trust very much."
Tinus Koskinen smiles "yes, I am sure they are, I hope you are able to find some method to continue your work. Perhaps a secretary for your thoughts on your trips, at least to take notes. a typewriter or some short hand will allow you to get some of your thoughts down. I know it will be hard but you’re a strong lady."
Ceejay Writer smiles, feeling better about herself than she has since this stupid blunder. "Thank you Tinus. I'll manage it - your faith in me has given me the challenge!"
Tinus Koskinen "that I am sure of. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate."
I have only myself to blame for what happened. Truly, just because it was called the “Absinthe Ball” did not mean I needed to try to fill myself up toes to nose with the stuff... but I did. I vaguely recall leaving the ball after telling others I was walking home to Babbage, which would have been impressive, but as I really cannot walk on water, I was taken pity on by others leaving, and given an airship ride home. I was left off at the café, in a hazy state of mind.
My first mistake was not going directly upstairs to sleep. My second mistake was noticing a new handbill posted across the road near the Brunel Hall Hotel. My third mistake was wobbling over there to read it. My fourth mistake was not paying attention on my way back. I should have heard the trolley approaching, and then I caught a heel in the track… I got loose in time to nearly step free, but took a hard glancing blow from the trolley, which sent me tumbling in a very unladylike manner right into my café.
Luckily, no one was about to laugh at me. Or hear me scream as I tried to push myself back up to my feet. The pain that shot through my left arm drove me near sober. Gingerly, I tested it, poked and prodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. Yes. It was broken. Not one of those horrid bone-jutting injuries, thank goodness, but a grand and wonderful fracture, to be sure.
During my years with Winthrop & Hammerschlinger's Travelling Emporium of Amazement, I’d learned a thing or two about injuries. Any carnie that hasn’t been scraped, bruised, battered and broken a time or two just wasn’t working hard enough. We were far too poor to keep a traveling doc on the payrolls, but we had us some books and plenty of whiskey, and most of us learned to get the job done when needful. I found my way carefully upright, and pulled the whiskey bottle from the oven in the hearth room. (that oven hasn’t worked in years, but makes a great place to tuck away special supplies).
An hour later, I was sitting by the fireplace, sweating profusely, tipsy again, my arm bathed in whiskey and wrapped tightly with shreds of my petticoat. It hurt like blazes but in all the right ways. I managed to get my long-sleeved blouse back on and adjusted. The bandages were snug under my sleeve, which actually helped keep things in place. It was now near dawn. Exhausted, I collapsed on one of the tapestry couches on my patio and slept deeply through the day.
I awoke to the voices of good friends close by. Miss Kat lounged at the table, and Mister Koskinen seemed to catch on quickly that I was in no condition to bustle about serving coffee.
(please mentally picture those wiggly lines that wash over a picture as it dissolves, as we segue to live-action chat now.)
Tinus Koskinen finds the heavy percolator still warm on the stove and some clean cups....pours out two cups of full and one with just a splash. A bit of whiskey in two and fills up the last to the rim. Returns balancing them all carefully.
Tinus Koskinen: There you go Miss Montpark, I am sure I did not ruin the whiskey with too much coffee.
Kat Montpark: Thank ye, Tinus!
Tinus Koskinen: and for you my lounging shop owner, a cup of hot coffee... ((holds out the cup for her))
YoYo Underby: Good evening.
Ceejay Writer: "I make the coffee strong enough to withstand it!"
Ceejay Writer: "Oh, my! Evening, sir."
YoYo Underby: May I sit?
Tinus Koskinen turns suddenly, seeing Mr. Underby, pale as the day he died, "ah, hello sir."
YoYo Underby nods
Ceejay Writer: "Something warm to drink for you sir?"
Kat Montpark: Oi! En't ye th' bloke wot everyone was gabbing about last week?
YoYo Underby: Perhaps a cider if you have it?
YoYo Underby: How are you this evening, Miss Writer?
Ceejay Writer: "Hmm, coffee, tea and absinthe. Oh and hot cocoa. No cider, I'm sorry!"
Ceejay Writer: "A bit weary - a long day! But well. And you?"
Kat Montpark: If ye want coffee, have Tinus make it for ye. Trust me.
YoYo Underby: Ah, absinthe will be fine.
Tinus Koskinen slides in to take a seat next to Mr. Underby, "well sir, I think we are a bit self service tonight, our hostess has her feet up since I have gotten here."
Tinus Koskinen: how is that coffee Ceejay?
YoYo Underby: Oh not bad, just visiting with the clockwinder
Ceejay Writer glances at the absinthe services on the ledge. "Er, yes. I'm sorry, just really all in at the moment."
Ceejay Writer: "Lovely coffee, Tinus! "
Tinus Koskinen tries to hide his anxiety about Underby's visit to Clockwinder, "oh, and how is the Mayor?"
YoYo Underby: Mmm, a tad under the weather, it seemed.
YoYo Underby: A shame he has no one to look after him.
Ceejay Writer looks concerned. "He's ill?"
YoYo Underby: Eh, Miss Writer?
YoYo Underby: He seemed somewhat, yes.
YoYo Underby: Slurring words and whatnot.
Kat Montpark frowns. "He en't bin at th' milk, 'as he?"
YoYo Underby: I saw no milk, no.
Ceejay Writer: "Maybe he needs some."
Tinus Koskinen frowns, unsure how to deal the knowledge that this man held clockwinder in his service, with false jovality he responds "hopefully not Miss Montiparks whiskey"
Tinus Koskinen: "what do you think is wrong with him Mr. Underby?
YoYo Underby: It is hard to say, though it did not seem to be cholera, thank the heavens.
YoYo Underby: Nor consumption.
Ceejay Writer: "Is he in his office? I could have some milk delivered over if it might help."
YoYo Underby: He is.
Tinus Koskinen frowns, "where is he right now?"
Tinus Koskinen: nods.
Kat Montpark isn't a bit tipsy from the whisky, no sir. "Aye, a pint or two will sort 'im out!"
Ceejay Writer: "The last I heard, his clock wasn’t working right. I wonder if he's ill over that."
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps I should go and check on him.
YoYo Underby: Miss Writer, is there really nobody he would have look after him?
Ceejay Writer: "Well, there's the maceholder. I've never heard him mention family. "
Kat Montpark: I always thought th' Clockwinder was th' type t'keep himself t'himself.
Tinus Koskinen: "he has been pretty loveskick since I returned from Arkham with a note from the lady he was interested in."
Ceejay Writer: "Oh, Kat, he's here a lot actually. I rarely see him outside the caf---- what????"
Ceejay Writer splutters. "He's what???"
Kat Montpark spits out her whisk-..coffee.
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps I should check on him.
YoYo Underby: How long has he known this woman?
Ceejay Writer: "Tinus, maybe you should soon? Would you mind?"
Tinus Koskinen: not long sir, and does not even know him. he told me about her, well the night you returned *his worry barely contained on this man's hold on clockwinder*
Kat Montpark: I 'eard something about that, but I thought it was just crazy rumor!
YoYo Underby: Hmm.
Ceejay Writer: "But Sir... I've been to Arkham, on writing assignment. I can't imagine him with anyone from that town."
Tinus Koskinen: actually I had come to talk to you about the lady Miss.
YoYo Underby: I met a philosopher here in town from Arkham.
Tinus Koskinen: she was there with the Dark Carnval, I believe they have moved on to another city but I have not been able to locate them.
Tinus Koskinen: an odd event that night, too long to explain here, but well somehow she left me a note to bring him.
Ceejay Writer: "A carnival girl - oh dear. Well, if she moved on without entraping him, perhaps she's honest."
Ceejay Writer looks at Tinus curiously, as this story comes to light.
YoYo Underby: I should go.
Ceejay Writer: "So, he's smitten with a circus girl who's left town."
YoYo Underby: Miss Writer...
Tinus Koskinen: I will have to look in on him. Why sir, is there something wrong?
Kat Montpark sighs with memories. "They're like ghosts, they are. Ye love 'em in one glorious night and then they disappear with th' morning."
Ceejay Writer eyes Mister Underby curiously.
YoYo Underby: Is there nobody you can think of the mayor might see once a year?
YoYo Underby: Perhaps at Christmas?
Ceejay Writer: "Once a year...... I am at a loss."
Ceejay Writer: "Santa isn't real, you know."
YoYo Underby frowns at Miss Writer
Tinus Koskinen: that scrooge fellow shows up yearly, looking to wring more out of us, if he fits.
YoYo Underby: Hmm
Ceejay Writer: "Oh. Perhaps? Could he be harassing Tenk?"
YoYo Underby: Good evening.
(Mister Underby swiftly leaves)
Tinus Koskinen: or his cousin Odnar makes a showing yearly or so I think.
Ceejay Writer: "Well. Not one for lingering goodbyes, is he?"
And it was just about at this point when Tinus, drat his eagle-eye, noticed a bit of bandage hanging down out of my sleeve. He was understandably anxious to go check on the Clockwinder, but lingered long enough to wrestle the story of my mishap out of me. Miss Jed Dagger, drat HER timing, had arrived in time to overhear.
Soon enough, I had been convinced to allow Jed to inspect my arm, and Tinus ran off to Tenk’s office. I somehow talked Jed out of re-bandaging or heavens forbid, re-breaking my arm, but agreed to her sound advice of using a sling as I healed. She was very careful, even tender, and I relaxed a bit under her attentions. Relaxation turned to exhaustion, and again I dozed.
Much later, I again spoke with Tinus. He had found the clockwinder, asleep, murmuring. I fear he is going through an ordeal of some sort, and am worried on his behalf.
Tinus turned the conversation again towards my injury, and drew from me more of the details and my true concerns about it. Drat that man, anyway!
(wiggly lines again, as we dissolve into chatlog)
Ceejay Writer smiles, then quickly tries to look serious. "I swear this was not a ploy to gain your attentions."
Tinus Koskinen: Miss, you have my attention and need not throw yourself in front of trolleys to keep it. You are not like those ladies that call on Doc Gus for their cure."
Ceejay Writer thinks of those packets Dayafter gives her and tucks on deeper into her pocket. "Ah. My yes. I keep telling them they are not ill, but they go back, time and time again."
Tinus Koskinen notices the movement some nervousness in Miss Writer. Perhaps she is taking my concern as a scolding, he thinks. His voice softens "Are you truly okay?"
Ceejay Writer: "My arm will be fine. It will take time. I'll have to be okay with that... but it's not easy."
Ceejay Writer: "Tinus... it's my writing arm."
Tinus Koskinen: oh my. Now that I had not even thought to ask. Oh how will you continue, perhaps you can take on a secretary?
Ceejay Writer chews her lip. "I'm not sure I can get my thoughts out that way. And my personal journal... it's really quite that. Personal. To trust another this way is hard to think of."
Tinus Koskinen: yes, that does seem like a problem...
Tinus Koskinen: perhaps some type of recording device?
Ceejay Writer: I had pondered the technology of recording.
Tinus Koskinen: yes, I have heard of some work in that area. Ancient and modern.
Ceejay Writer: But saving my words in speech... it's not written, Tinus. They're to be seen, not heard. I just can't seem to imagine this.
Tinus Koskinen: no I definitely can understand. i assume you’re not ambidextrous, and surely not as skilled at that. Perhaps some type of writing device.
Tinus Koskinen: a Typewriter although slow, you can use one arm to operate.
Ceejay Writer: It would be slow, but it might be something to keep me from going mad.
Tinus Koskinen worry slides across his face with realization upon hearing the pain in the lady's voice, for the first time clearly unrelated to his injury. "Oh Ceejay, no problem is unsolvable. Perhaps some type of short hand...
Tinus Koskinen: or trusted companion
Ceejay Writer smiles and pats his hand with her good one. "Perhaps. It's hard to trust my notions outside of my own control. But there are those I trust very much."
Tinus Koskinen smiles "yes, I am sure they are, I hope you are able to find some method to continue your work. Perhaps a secretary for your thoughts on your trips, at least to take notes. a typewriter or some short hand will allow you to get some of your thoughts down. I know it will be hard but you’re a strong lady."
Ceejay Writer smiles, feeling better about herself than she has since this stupid blunder. "Thank you Tinus. I'll manage it - your faith in me has given me the challenge!"
Tinus Koskinen "that I am sure of. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate."
Tags: clockwinder, roleplay, underby, what-could-possibly-go-wrong
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Comment by Bookworm Hienrichs on November 10, 2009 at 1:18pm - Oh, goodness! I thought you seemed rather quiet last night when I stopped by the cafe, but I didn't realize it was because of something like this! And unfortunately, I'm heading out of town tonight; some friends absolutely insisted that I come and visit them for a week. Do please write...erm...have someone write me if you need my help with anything.
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Comment by Ceejay Writer on November 10, 2009 at 1:29pm - Oh, bookworm. I was trying very hard not to alarm you last night with my idiotic blunder! I'm sure I will be fine. Kaylee's even said she'd build me a metal arm if things take a turn for the worse!
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Comment by Penelope Strathearn on November 10, 2009 at 1:48pm - Oh dear! Maybe I can drop by later and have a look. Or better yet, Somerset could. He has a certain...knack for dealing with those types of injuries. Handy skill, in an armsman.... *smile*
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Comment by Katherine Montpark on November 10, 2009 at 1:59pm -
*left on a cafe table, on a rather oil-stained scrap of paper held down by a bottle of rum*
DEER Seejay
I hop yu aR well that arm looks lyke a Rite Mess but it shood Heal up fine
I have left yu somMedeMedcinaalGood Rum to set yu Rite & I kiCkd a Trolly for yu
if yu need any Thing just ask & I wil help I can brew cofe & cook & Rite some if yu need a seckratarry
HOP YU FEEL BETER SOON!!!
Sinserly Kat
(chocolate stain)
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Comment by Ceejay Writer on November 10, 2009 at 2:04pm
- Oh, Nell! No worries. I'm sure I'll be right as rain in a few weeks, or a month. *twitch* Do come by and keep me company now and then, though! That's kind of you to offer Somerset's help, but between Jed and myself, we got that arm pretty well set.
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Comment by Ceejay Writer on November 10, 2009 at 2:06pm
- Ceejay reads Kat's note with growing amusement, and realizes that this horrific effort at correspondence comes from the heart. She takes a drink right from the bottle and does feel better for it. She also vows to learn more about this 'typewriter' technology as soon as she can. But, she will let Kat know her assistance around the cafe would truly be a help!
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Comment by Penelope Strathearn on November 10, 2009 at 2:10pm
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Tell you what...I'll drop by sometime with a platter of Turkish Delight for you! *smile*
Would you like to borrow my Steambook Pro for a bit? It's on the HSS Gwynedd, but I could bring it down for you until your arm heals.
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Comment by Jedburgh Dagger on November 10, 2009 at 7:21pm -
While she had done a good job with only the use of one arm, I did manage to resplint the break with some scraps of pasteboard and a bit of wood from a packing crate. Sakes alive but she is a worrisome thing underneath all her 'tough girl' posturing.
Her intent to not wear a sling bothers me, as the arm will need to remain immobile in order for the bone to set properly. I suppose I'll have to play the role of the doting maternal figure for a while...
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Comment by Grendel Footman on November 10, 2009 at 9:50pm - nope, no hope for it, she'll need it amutated before the gangrene sets in (besides, I could use some extra arms)
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Comment by Ceejay Writer on November 10, 2009 at 10:07pm
- Amputation? Gangrene? Okay, okay, I give in! Jed, I'll wear the sling! *small voice* And... thanks for taking good care of me in spite of myself.
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Sept: Engineer's Day (15th)
Orphan's Day (19th)
Oct: Babbage Day (18th)
Mythos Day (31st)
Nov: Guy Fawkes Day (5th)
Dec: Programmer's Day (10th)
Spring: Oiling Festival
Summer: Great Babbage Exposition
Fall: Explorers & Scientists Recognition
Winter: Winter Holidays
Monthly Holidays
Jan: Founder's Day (8th)
Feb: Steampunk Photography Month
Mar: St. Patrick's Day (17th)
Literary Day (24th)
Apr: Charles Darwin Day (19th)
May: May Day (1st)
Robber Baron Day (27th)
June: Boilerplate/Clockwork Day (25th)
July: Submersible Day (3rd)
Nikola Tesla Day (10th)
Airship Day (23rd - 31st)
Aug: H.G. Wells Day (13th)
Sept: Engineer's Day (15th)
Orphan's Day (19th)
Oct: Babbage Day (18th)
Mythos Day (31st)
Nov: Guy Fawkes Day (5th)
Dec: Programmer's Day (10th)
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