Sunday 14 May 2006

Flight of the Thaumjammer - Part, the first

Following the events in Sister Blister

 Starting the ancient broom was the hard part. It couldn't hold a thaumic charge for toffee. Gripping the shaft tightly, I channelled some of my own thaumic energy into it, enough to get it jump started. Once on the move, it'd charge itself, drawing thaumic particles from the field intersecting reality with the subquantum layer that permeated almost everything.

 Trying to engage the bristles is like igniting a particularly stubborn and elderly gas fire. One has to turn the gas on and leave it to reach an acceptable saturation level before pressing the ignition switch, more often than not, several times. Each press of the switch would send sparks of electricity shooting up one's fingers, into the radius & ulna, only to discharge painfully at the elbow. If the gas level isn't right, it'd never light. Or it'd explode, blowing away half the front room and most of one's flesh. With the broom, the danger was getting the thaumic charge just right. Too little and nothing would happen - except, maybe, arm ache. Too much and the next thing you know, you're sitting on a lily pad eating flies!

 Well, eventually, the damn thing surged into life, shedding a couple of what I hoped were nonessential bristles on to (Naked) Knight's garage floor. I set it to hover while Knight and Blacksmith made the final preparations.

 Knight stripped naked (again) and generated his psi-armour. He then opened part of his armour and brought his clothes through, putting them on within. Blacksmith lumbered on to the back of the broom laden down with huge chunks of thick metal plate partially covering his massive body. The broom creaked ominously as he got on.

 Knight alighted carefully, opening his armour at various points to engulf Blacksmith, the broom and myself at the front. Knight had pontificated at length as to why he should sit at the front, insisting that he should, what with being the de facto leader of the Supernaturals, or 'Commander' as he likes to put it. And, that the... contraption... we had boarded was his idea, plus it was partially made of/by him.

 I begged to differ. Afterall, it was my broom. I am the pilot and, therefore, need to see where I'm steering, so, obviously, I needed to be at the front. He couldn't argue with my logic. Although he did try for a short while.

 Not being one to admit defeat easily, he proceeded to bring out his Big Gun - No, you perverts*. Not that. It is big, though! - His kicked puppy expression. A look that no one, to my knowledge, has ever been able to resist (which would explain his insufferable but strangely attractive arrogance). So now he's the navigator. An easy job - afterall, how many different ways are there to go up?!

 After getting comfortable. No, not comfortable. Settled. One can never be comfortable on a broom. After getting settled, Knight and Blacksmith did their 'things'. Knight extended his armour around us, creating a many faceted, but sleek, stubby winged shape with only the broom's bristles uncovered sticking out the back, but shielded on either side. Blacksmith then did his metal-manipulating-thing, influencing the metal plates to take on the shape of the translucent psionic shell Knight was generating, leaving gaps in key positions to enable us to see out.

 I turned my head to look at the two men on my long, hard shaft (sorry - couldn't resist). "Ready boys?"

 "Affirmative" Knight replied. I rolled my eyes. Blacksmith just nodded.

 "Right. Here we go!" The broom roared into life and we screamed into the night sky leaving contrails from the tips of the wings. Er... Well... Perhaps not exactly like that. It was more like:

 "Good God this thing is slow. If I lean over I can touch the ground!"

 "Oh, shut up, Knight" I snapped. "This broom is almost older than time. All this extra weight doesn't help either".

 I urged the broom onwards, down the street, slowly picking up speed. Blacksmith adjusted the wing shape and position to give us more lift. By the time we passed Blockbuster Video, we were ten feet in the air and going about 35 mph. A few seconds later, we were level with the gutter over the tattoo parlour. Another few seconds and we just cleared the top of the billboard at the bottom of the street and sailed majestically, I think you could say, into the starry sky at about 60 mph but picking up speed quickly.

 This was going to be a long trip...

* Piggy & Tazzy, Tickers, Fuckkit, Frobi, Lee, Miss Haversham, in fact, most of my Blogroll. Yes, even you Kyahgirl. You said 'pussy' at P&T's - you're supposed to keep us all in check. Shocking!


  1. By gosh, you are, MJ! At least you beat slimy old anonymous - he can shit off!

  2. Perverts? Us? Takes one to know one.

  3. how can I possibly keep you lot 'in check'?

    by the way, when I 'boned up' on the topic of long hard shafts, I didn't come across anything that would indicate there was ever one long enough to hold a witch, a blacksmith, and a knight. ha!

    by the way again,, Fuckkit is not a pervert. If you keep defaming her character she's never going to come back you know.

    by the way for the last time; great story. I like the armoring and modifying abilities of your two cohorts.

  4. by the way, one last time; of course I said 'pussy'. was that not a happy little pussy?


  5. * snigger *

    OK, KG - All is forgiven. And is 'by the way again,,' a promise?

    * crosses fingers with barely contained hope *

    Oops. Didn't see you there, Fuckkit!

  6. I'm damned if I know what the hell you're talking about, but boy do you do it well.

  7. I am a pervert and proud of it! And now I have other perverts' blogs to perve at!

    IDV comes through again with a story that I think I need to imbibe mind altering substances to understand, and more blogs to procrastinate on by reading... cheers!

  8. Is your broom made by Skoda?

    As for the pervert thing. I'm not a perv' just creative.

    Oh, and can't accuse you of being slack with that post.


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