Odd gods and other trinkets IC

[Fouredged Sword]

Life can seem so very like a story at times. Epic in scope and minute in nature. Earth changing and minute in nature. Things happen and the story develops. People change and yet things stay the same. Pages turn, but they are all just pages.

And yet here we are.


Walk a mile
The Odd Gods series
-Book one-

Chapter one
- A very strange Thursday -

Scene one
- Just another morning -
Off Structure

[Geostationary]

Shortly after daybreak, Quincy Reginald, esquire, found himself rising from bed to greet the new day as the suncandles began to intensify in brightness from their nighttime glow. He got out of his butler-esqe pajamas into his butler formal wear, with a distinctly English waistcoat. One aspect 3 miracle later, he had slain a nearby ham-and-egg beast roaming in the lawn and cooked it, just in time for breakfast. After this filling meal he got up, went outside, and jumped, executing a perfect backflip (A4) as spacial distances warped around him, rapidly bringing the dining room into view and rendering the Table-Continent a distant landscape.
"Excellent landing, Lord Reginald, perfect as always." This came from Harold, one of two cloth men dressed as servants who had been scaled up to help around the manor/chancel.
"Thank you, Harold. I take it preparations are underway for our reception of the Darklord Birsha of the Red Eyes?"
"Well, about that...it seems there might be a slight problem", Harold's compatriot, Lilia, replied. "It seems that today might be yesterday. Again."
"Well, that just won't do at all. I'll have to check in with the rest of the familia. Perhaps Lady Lyn is playing with the chronometer again?", Reginald mutters, as he walks off to find the rest of his familia. "You may as well get started with the preparations; this should be sorted out soon enough".

[1of3]

Standing in a white gazeebo, a pale girl of maybe twelve years stretched and yawned most unladylike. She wore a blue sommer dress and a smile, as a servant appeared with the news paper.

"Your paper, mylady, with the most astonishing news, if I may add. It appears that Lady de Reymes stole stole a living pharaoh for her Labyrinth and Lord ..." The young girl lifted an eyebrow. "That's yesterdays news, Mr. Fork, and therefore hardly astonishing anymore."

The servant looked confused. "Mylady, this is certainly the Thursday paper of this very week..." The girls smile froze. "Then, Mr. Fork, there are exactly three possiblities. You want to trick me, which is unlikely for you are not as daring, and today certainly is a Friday. Or you were tricked yourself, which is unlikely, for you are not so stupid. The third possibility would involve some Power involved with Time or Groundhogs having a hick-up. But..."

Only now she seemed to recognize her approaching Brother Caelestis. "Well... Considering that Reginald, squire here or there, never visits me this time of the day, the third possibility just got much more likely."

[Bunny of Faith]

Sam Spades sat on the rather uncomfortable looking wooden bench, a lake of coffee stretching out before him. Occasionally taking small sips from the mug of black coffee he had gripped in both hands, which he had decided was going to refill itself until he put it down again, he watched the sun candles illuminate the world. He rose slowly and walked to the edge of the lake, kicking off his slippers and dipping a foot into coffee below.
"Cold again, hmph. It seems I'll have to remind the others to stop messing with the temperature. Nobody wants to drink cold coffee." With a sigh he cautiously warmed the lake, careful not to harm the sugarfish that he knew lived within, despite their aversion to him. He then placed the mug he held at the side of the lake, fluttering the rather small wings on his back as flew up into the Manor.
"Glenn! Where are you hiding? Get over here!" He said with irritation, briefly glancing down at himself. He was dressed plainly, a whirt shirt and tan trousers, his feet now bare and one dripping coffee on the floor.
"I'm here, Lord Spades! What do you need?" The second of the cloth men rushed out from a side door. Sam shook his head at the man, as he glanced about the room.
"Where are the others? And where is my paper? You know I like to read it each Friday. You didn't forget again, did you?"
"No, of course not Lord! Except... It's Thursday."
"What are you talking about, Glenn? No, it isn't. You could at least try and make up a better excuse, you know I don't sleep."
"I'm serious! Quite bewildering, too. It seems that it is Thursday, all over again." Glenn fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the repeated questions.
"I shall have to take your word for it, then. What are you dawdling about for? Get back to work! And clean up this mess." He stepped to the side, pointing towards the small pool of coffee that had formed beneath his feet, which were now both dry. He turned to the dining table, trying to spot any of his familia on the world below.

[Geostationary]

After leaving Harold and Lilia, Reginald headed to the gazebo favored by Lyn, pausing only to check that the silver for tomorrow's (or possibly today's) reception had been properly polished.
"Ah, Lyndisty- I was just looking for you. I take it by the look on your face that you have found that today's events are, in fact, yesterday's? Do you, perchance, know why? It's rather inconvenient, what with the reception for Birsha of the Red-Eyes and all happening on what should have been today. If not, I suppose we'll have to find the rest of the familia."

[1of3]

"Wouldn't it be easier to do the preparations, if you could try twice?" The young girl looked thoughtful. "Of course, you'd need to have the whole universe to re-thursday. Wait a moment..."

Lyndisty started looking through a bag on the table producing a set of crayons. "We do not have to look for the others. We can ask. And we can ask about universal thursdayness, too." With crayons she wrote on the ground: "Dear envelopes everywhere, which dates are currently stamped upon you. Yours Mistress", and then, "Dear Chancel, are my brothers around, and if so, where?".

Looking at Reginald she added: "That might take a little while. Chancel is mad with me, since I broke that platter dome, even though I had all the pieces clean up themselves. Anyway, has your reurgitated morning been as blissful as mine?"

[Geostationary]

Reginald looked thoughtfully into the distance for a moment.
"True, having another Thursday could help immensely; it would be a dress rehearsal of sorts."
He waited for Lyndisty to finish writing her letters- he had never had much use for talking with his estate- sure, it could be talkative at times, but most of his time with it was spent in silence, as he took care of the necessary things to keep it prim and proper.

"That might take a little while. Chancel is mad with me, since I broke that platter dome, even though I had all the pieces clean up themselves. Anyway, has your reurgitated morning been as blissful as mine?"
"It has been more or less as blissful as yesterday, which is now today- though as I think on it, it was rather strange that I had the same ham-and-egg beast as yesterday. It's probably best not to think too hard on the ontological implications of that", he replied. "How have you been coming along in your studies? They're going well, I take it?"