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<blockquote data-quote="Sialia" data-source="post: 156314" data-attributes="member: 1025"><p>See, this sort of flattery makes it all worthwhile for me. Thenk yew.</p><p></p><p>Not only do I get to grandstand at length, not only are you an irrationally kind audience, but nobody's had me hauled away yet!</p><p></p><p>(Although my husband <em>has</em> made threatening grabs for the telephone from time to time. Especially when I told him what was coming up next.)</p><p></p><p>Sadly, the drawing of the Byakhee in pasties jumping out of a cake has been deemed as unpublishable as the one of Great Cthulhu's garters, so I think I'm going to wrap up the wedding theme here, and get on with working on the next, next thing. Which you will love, I promise, at least as long as none of you go in to have your san losses repaired while I'm away.</p><p></p><p>It may be a few days before my next post--I'll be travelling for a week or so and may not get to scan and upload till I get back.</p><p></p><p>I leave you with one last true story to ponder: Bandeeto and I once went touring in New England and stopped off to see the House of the Seven Gables (Hawthorne, anyone?). </p><p></p><p>Now, usually, it's an old house full of period costumed guides (what period, I can't recall exactly--Hawthornish, I suppose) and tourists can go in and see it. But, sadly, the day we were there, the whole thing had been rented out for a shmancy wedding, and we could only walk illicitly around the grounds trying to figure out what the heck a gable was, and what difference did it make that there were seven of them. </p><p></p><p>Anyway, the power went out for no apparent reason. (This is a true story, remember?) OK, so, here's the horror part: imagine you have spent a small fortune renting out a truly spectacular spread for your shmancy wedding, and the caterer comes up and tells you he can't cook anything, because there's no power, and the band comes up and says they can't play anything because the amps and mics are all dead without power, and evening is falling and very soon the guests will not even be able to <em>see</em> the Big White Dress you spent four months rent on.</p><p></p><p>Aaiiieee!</p><p></p><p>Ok, end of true story. </p><p></p><p>Here's the speculation part: somebody write us a module where the groom and his pals all go missing as well, and the pre-gen characters are the bridesmaids who have, let's say, a certain deadline to figure out what is wrong in this quaint coastal New England town. While wearing their Big Ugly Dresses and Insensible Shoes. Perhaps surrounded by panicking or sinister parents of the Bride and/or Groom, a lot of hungry and cold wedding guests fumbling around in the dark, and a lot of historical recreationists wandering around in period costume speaking in odd old accents and acting smug about being able to do their shtick by candlelight.</p><p></p><p>There's an adventure in here somewhere, I tell you.</p><p></p><p>Till we post again, </p><p></p><p>Yours fondly,</p><p></p><p>Sialia</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sialia, post: 156314, member: 1025"] See, this sort of flattery makes it all worthwhile for me. Thenk yew. Not only do I get to grandstand at length, not only are you an irrationally kind audience, but nobody's had me hauled away yet! (Although my husband [i]has[/i] made threatening grabs for the telephone from time to time. Especially when I told him what was coming up next.) Sadly, the drawing of the Byakhee in pasties jumping out of a cake has been deemed as unpublishable as the one of Great Cthulhu's garters, so I think I'm going to wrap up the wedding theme here, and get on with working on the next, next thing. Which you will love, I promise, at least as long as none of you go in to have your san losses repaired while I'm away. It may be a few days before my next post--I'll be travelling for a week or so and may not get to scan and upload till I get back. I leave you with one last true story to ponder: Bandeeto and I once went touring in New England and stopped off to see the House of the Seven Gables (Hawthorne, anyone?). Now, usually, it's an old house full of period costumed guides (what period, I can't recall exactly--Hawthornish, I suppose) and tourists can go in and see it. But, sadly, the day we were there, the whole thing had been rented out for a shmancy wedding, and we could only walk illicitly around the grounds trying to figure out what the heck a gable was, and what difference did it make that there were seven of them. Anyway, the power went out for no apparent reason. (This is a true story, remember?) OK, so, here's the horror part: imagine you have spent a small fortune renting out a truly spectacular spread for your shmancy wedding, and the caterer comes up and tells you he can't cook anything, because there's no power, and the band comes up and says they can't play anything because the amps and mics are all dead without power, and evening is falling and very soon the guests will not even be able to [i]see[/i] the Big White Dress you spent four months rent on. Aaiiieee! Ok, end of true story. Here's the speculation part: somebody write us a module where the groom and his pals all go missing as well, and the pre-gen characters are the bridesmaids who have, let's say, a certain deadline to figure out what is wrong in this quaint coastal New England town. While wearing their Big Ugly Dresses and Insensible Shoes. Perhaps surrounded by panicking or sinister parents of the Bride and/or Groom, a lot of hungry and cold wedding guests fumbling around in the dark, and a lot of historical recreationists wandering around in period costume speaking in odd old accents and acting smug about being able to do their shtick by candlelight. There's an adventure in here somewhere, I tell you. Till we post again, Yours fondly, Sialia [/QUOTE]
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