You can not bear it when I am away. I am on to your subtle ways.

I too can be so indirect. I can make you grip the sides of the bed, make you break a nail from rigor mortis like clinch, with the whisk of the outer part of my eye.

My mere breath on your blushing, goosepimpled mound can make a geyser blast to the ceiling.

The most intense passion is just under the surface of the lake. Come in to the shallows my gazelle... and be the cheetah chip.

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You sit down next to me at the counter of the bar and grill. You scoped out the rest of the bar and deemed it unlikely. Kind of an off night.

I am finishing up a meal. Not even flirting. Not drinking. Out of synch with the room.

But you figure... what the hell? Might as well have a conversation before calling it a night.

And so I listen quietly as you start to talk. Feeding you an occasional uh hum, I see. Being an active listener with an innocent guise.

You can't help but talk to the difficulty of dating. Of how shallow men are. How they can only see obvious curves and outward appearances.

Then it happens. I turn to you, with a deep sincere look from my dangerous eyes... touch you lightly and reassuringly on the back... and say: "You've got nothing to worry about. "

Oh you won't remember it the next morning. But that was it. I learned just how that touch works by one of your tribe. When I was wounded, in pain, and that just right touch made me fall head over heels with someone I just met. I know how to touch the soul like that.

It is only sporting to warn you.

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You... I see you hurtling down your life arc. Moving too fast to stop.

You have no time for me. No time for anybody. You have big goals. Big dreams. You don't need anyone.

So I watch. I calculate. As you swing by for closest approach I roll up eyes and go ephemeral... focusing all my mass into a singularity.

My pull alters your course slightly. But your high speed makes for miles difference in a short time.

And you miss colliding with that dark, near invisible mass blocking your path...
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Come here! Shhhhh! Sit!

Look young 'un. I've got something to teach you that'll add a few years. But is more valuable than all your granny's gold.

You see that man over there. Staring deep into his brew. That's a fine brood isn't? A veteran brood.

That is none other than Athos of the famous four. Yes. But shhhh. Unless you want a cuff from a brooding king's man. He won't take kindly to ogling.

Yeah of course you know all about him. A legend. Lads all over France dueling with sticks and pretending to be Athos. Practicing all but the brood. How he dresses. How he speaks. How he courts. How he provokes.

But if you want to be Athos... learn the brood. That is his great secret. I tell you it is what made him.

There is a man who has been struck. Not a glancing blow. But a run through. Worse than a never healing wight delivered strike with cursed blade.

But I knew the man before the wound. You would not want to be him. You want to be Athos. He was merely a noble lord. An obscurity in our great land. Never to be heard of. Lost to History.

The wound has forged the character. Man was made to suffer as the sparks fly upwards. Had it been merely a glancing blow look at all that had been lost. All connubial glee and bliss with no adventure. Faaaa!

Are you ready to shed your polished dandy's boots and pull on mud covered cavalier's? Are you ready to trade your plumed gentleman's gaudy for a fine broadbrimmed rider? To lurk in alleyways as the rain pours down cold and drips off that fine brim before disappearing with all warmth down the gutter?

Come let's brood together. The drink is good here. There is time to mull over which turn your young life should take.

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Ah yes...

I have been observing you from across the bar. Shhhh, do not interrupt. I am sure no one has told you this before...

You are seething with internal conflicts. You really had to struggle to come here. You are... a primate... you view it as your fatal flaw.

Most of the time you are cooly rational. You have made your way in this vicious world by exploiting your mastery of the environment. No... do not try to evade my analysis. You know it to be true. There is no point to deny it.

Around us are people enjoying the submission to emotion. Surrendering to the rhythm of the music... letting the warm surge of chemical stimulation disrupt their synapses. I can see how you have merely toyed with your drink. How you have used it to tease the emotions out around you without committing to any feeling. To the observant one, you stick out in your surroundings like a woman fresh from a sauna trying to hide among a polar bear club party pursued by hunters wearing thermal sights.

But you ARE a primate. I can see how your nipples are poking hard now in your tight blouse. They were not this way when I started my approach.

But I know better... know better than to think you are looking for some kind of connection. You tell yourself you are. In your struggle to manage your conflicting desires. You at some level think you are here to feel like part of the herd. Have some shard of humanity left within you.

What you really want is a duel. Yes... even now I can see how your heartbeat has quickened. How that sly look has come into your beautiful eyes. How you are setting down your glass with all your short hairs raised in anticipation. A treat of a lifetime... am I right?

Yes I am here. Let's follow the tradition of our ancestors. Give it all ceremony it deserves.

Here... here then is the Challenge Odious... administered with silver chalice worthy glove... *SLAP*

A glancing blow... to be sure... The last from me that is... merely glancing.
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It is the birdsong that I hear before seeing sun... that tells me where on earth I am... and makes me eager to start the day. When I am rich in time I listen quietly and monitor how it changes for a few hours. Well before dawn. Noisy way before... tailing down... then up again.

But the start of romance... it Is the eyes. It is the glances. That first when you aren't sure and peekaboo. Each time returning to find mine right there. Then trying to think, sustain, but not commit. The blush that comes and tries to hide. So obvious but kind of subtle given the surrounding scene.

As it was since time began. There is a quiet beauty in some static things... that is beyond the decree of kings. Quote

At this time we must pause and correct an unfair omission from the Scientific Record. Often times we do not credit the discoveries of our adversaries. We let enmity get in the way of impartiality.

But those of us sworn to uphold Science and Virtue know that Method must be followed wherever it may lead us. So to with History. And right credit.

On this day in 1937, Earth Alternate Timeline 57A13, Emilio Lizardo's crack scientific research team discovered the Lizardo angle. This angle, differing depending upon element ratio, was important for early overthruster development. Oscillation waves are transverse waves and thus may not propagate in the direction of oscillation. Thus any craft impinging upon a dense medium with vertical oscillation at this critical angle would be efficiently transmitted into the medium without reflection in a manner very similar to the more widely known Brewster angle.

Early oscillation overthruster research was stymied by the assumption of normal incidence. Emilio's work changed the fundamental experimental approach to one of grazing incidence. Accelerating the jump to the eighth dimension by many decades.

Many fictional accounts of the history are wildly inaccurate on this simple point. Hollywood has often been guilty of substituting light shows along with rock and roll for factual detail. We wish they would stick to their traditional strengths and leave Science to the outreach arm of the Banzai Institute.

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You don't want to feel alone. You want me to cross the gulf. But you don't know me. You are scared.

You are set up to be the most ruthless judge of my approach. The slightest error... the slightest deviation from the right trajectory... and you banish me from your heart forever.

You don't want to perish beneath that cold sheet of ice. Cut off from feeling. Sinking away to some murky doom. I am an answer. A burning, searing furnace that is so near. That can melt all that ice away and bring you gasping and heaving to a rebirth into warm, secure, love drenched life. Where you can soar free to realize all potential.

Or am I? Your eyes are dark with fear and desperation. You have done all you can to create this chance but now it is all out of your hands. Except for the judgement.

At least you can see that I understand the weight of the moment. That I am aware of the precarious nature of our souls relation. You see the ancient instincts... the tightening up as the reach for inner steel begins. The eyes catching fire with the fierce gleam of trial fever.

You are half expecting a bolt out of Hell that makes all existence shimmy and shake. The light to flicker. The wind to shear.

But instead there is motion and pure silky glide. The whirlwind that begins its dervish dance moves warm scented air and reality itself ripples.

Your bracing tense body has nothing to resist. Your keen mind has no form to latch onto to dispense ruthless judgement.

The ice goes vapor in a slightly alcoholic mist and your soul leaps to entwine with its mate... its all encompassing mate.




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You only need one note...



(heh heh if you dunna see no link, well ya can look with a samba added) Quote