everyone play that dragon game it is A+
what dragon game
everyone play this dragon game
everyone play that dragon game it is A+
what dragon game
everyone play this dragon game
Building Bitzer part 4.
I found the hat once upon a Halloween in a dollar shop and thought “Ooo! This looks like fun to play with!”
And so I am.
Not shown is the really tacky rectangular buckle that, thanks to the simple fact that it’s plastic, we cut off with side-snips before I could document it. If I find a similar, pre-buggered hat, I shall photograph it for educational purposes.
The white feathery thing was a hair comb, purchased the last time feather accessories were so popular that they turned up in dollar shops [hands up if you’re spotting a pattern with my accessory haunts, children]
The flowers are combination hair clips and brooches that I got for $5 each at the local K-mart. The necklace was at the bargain bin at Target, owing to the fact that some of its gems are missing.
I’m going to reduce the necklace to its central gem-and-chain setup, fix the missing gems, and affix a brooch backing once I obtain one. I’ll then use the resulting frankenstein jewellery to fancy up the front of the hat.
The method used for the arrangement on the back was a succession of jiggery-pokery as I fooled with places to pin the brooch part of the flowers [You can tell I just snipped the comb into next-to-nothing and just kept the bit that was glued to the feathers.
Once the flowers were in place, it was just a matter of pushing the feathers in until the flowers kept them in place. It’s surprisingly stable. I know, because I held the hat upside-down and attempted to shake the feathers loose :D And since I couldn’t do that, no random gust of wind should disturb them.
Also not shown, yet: an extra length of ribbon that I’m going to add to the original ribbons. It will require partial disassembly of the existing rig and some clever insertion with a brass safety-pin. As well as some special goo to prevent later fraying.
"I’m not panicking, I’m watching you panic. It’s more entertaining."
This was the first time she’d been locked in a room with a human. While it did bring people watching to new and increasingly intimate levels, it did rather limit the options, should said human start lashing out.
As it was, this one seemed to like saying ‘okay’ a lot.
"Okay… Oh….kay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay. Okayokayokayokayokayokay… Ooooohhhhhhh… Kay. Okay. I can handle this. I’m okay. Okay." The human seemed to notice Jaka for the first time and said, "It’s goin’ tae be all righ’. No need tae panic…"
"I am not engaged in activity - panic," said Jaka. "I am much more entertained by your panic."
"Glad I can help," said the human. "I go by Shayde."
"Jaka," said Jaka, shaking her hand. She was trembling. "Are you feeling cold? I am assured this is optimal temperature."
"Aye, it’s that." jiggle jiggle jiggle. "I don’t like small rooms. I really don’t like small rooms." She dropped to a whisper so she could mutter, "…keepittogether, keepittogether, keepittogether…"
"This is unusual, so far from Sol."
"No’ me fault. Bunch’a reet bastards dropped me off in here. Cannae go for’d… cannae go back… in more ways than one. I’m sorta kind’a a little bit stook. An’ na ‘m stook werse."
Jaka took off her info viewer and put it on display mode. “Here is map of service crews. They are coming to fix the problem. See? All little orange dot. Friendly orange dot. Friendly red dot, also. Coming to help. They has excellent sedative for you. Fun sleep.”
Shayde’s obsidian nail picked out a rainbow dot. “And one JOAT on me side. Ee! ‘E’s gone in tae the vents. Poor bugger’d have tae shapeshift. I’m no likin’ this bill…”
"I’ll accept payment in baked goods," said an almost-cat inside the ventilation grille. It carried a plastic blow pipe.
"Rael! Aw yer a sight fer sore eyes. This is Jaka. She’s nice."
"Stop trying to fix me up with a date and let me have a clear shot at your jugular."
"Don’t tell me… repairs are goin’ tae take more’n a bitty while."
"Hours," said Rael, readying the blow pipe.
Shayde pulled aside her hair. “Stand back. I go down like a brick.”
If Jaka had one complaint, it was that the human was not allowed to panic for longer. Hours in a dim veet, watching a human sleep were not as fun as the minutes watching her fear reactions.
"The point is, you haven’t let the lack of Seconds stop you. Or the rules. Or respect for reality, as far as I can tell."
Shayde still wore Public Property Grey, but this time, her footwear was a pair of Hazard Yellow thongs. Indicating that she was both off-duty, and a potential danger to the public. Someone had given her a silver fan brooch, indicating that she was also offensive without training.
"I take it you’ve been freed," said Rael in the tones of mock-optimism usually reserved for five-year-olds who ‘found’ puppies.
"Oh aye. Turns out, reliable information’s a hot ticket. I could make a mint buskin’ if I had me axe. Or wi’ info services if I had a comm link. Or an account. I could find a bunk if I had the Hours…" she fished in her pockets and bought out two Second coins. "I got two Seconds, the clothes on me back, the knowledge in me head, and a number of things in pocket dimensions nobody’d bother sneezin’ on."
Rael thought back on the past two weeks of her incarceration. “The difference now is, you’re a free agent. You can do anything you like.”
"Aye. Wi’ nowt tae invest. I’m skint, homeless, and buggered. What next?"
"There’s always the Free Listings. Anything you can get for free…"
"Is worth exac’ly woh ye pay for it. D’ruther pay sweat equity. Least then I know it’s worth sommat…"
"You can also find those on the Free Listings." He sighed. "Look. I’ve known you for all of two weeks and in that time, I’ve never seen anything stop you. Not a lack of money. Not any of the rules. Not even reality, in so far as I can tell… Stop looking at what’s missing and work with whatever you can get. There’s plenty of real estate that requires fixing up."
"Reckon you could find a good one in two seconds?" she rattled her change.
He took the money. “I found it while you were busy being miserable. It’s in a forgotten area near the dry dock end. We’ll take the free transits.”
"…worth exactly what ye pay fer ‘em…" Shayde mumbled.
The mont marte impasto is a goop designed to hold brush strokes… Which explains a lot.
Like… Why it was so hard to use the sponge on the blends. And why there’s no crackling.
Back to the start. Sigh.
"I never saw you face a wall that, if you couldn’t go over it, you’d not try to find some way around, through, or under, or blow it up with sapper’s charges. Or just bang your head against it till it fell down."
Ten Standard Years can make a lot of differences. Most of them physical. They can also serve to emphasise the similarities.
Sahra sized up the area. This was open ground in the Cursedland wastes. There were no vents for her to crawl through. And she was way past being of a size to crawl through them, anyway. She had the resilient remnants of a crashed vessel’s bulkheads, a lot of similar wreckage strewn about, and a bunch of headstrong idiots shooting at her.
Ten years ago, they were her headstrong idiots and therefore valuable. Now…
"An orbital plasma cannon ain’t the answer I’m looking’ for," she reminded herself. "Splash zone’s too dang wide anyhow."
"Really? Orbital plasma cannon?" said Simy. "I know that isn’t you. You’re usually more subtle."
Sahra glared at him. “You is talkin’ to the gal who rained yaller all over th’ Tuatta. An’ got the walls bleedin’. An’ vanished a whole bunch’a humans overnight.”
Simy considered this. “Fine,” he allowed, “You used to be a lot more creative. I’ve never seen you face an obstacle that, provided you couldn’t surmount it, you’d otherwise manage to disassemble, sabotage or otherwise just headbutt it into submission. Think. You’re good at that.”
"It’s real hard t’ think when your own folks is shootin’ at ya."
"Fine. Then what kind of miracle would stop them?"
"Y’all got m’ spare dress? Reckon I’m up fo’ a spot o’ bi-lo-cation."
Simy grinned, even as he transformed into Sahra’s double. “That’s my girl.”
 For a full chronicle of Sahra’s ‘miracles’, please read the Hevun’s Child Trilogy.
Building Bitzer part 3
The trick to getting an even crackle, I am told, is to get an even surface. This is harder than it looks on a paper maché mask.
Especially when that mask is divided into sections for testing.
The final method used involved daubing paint mix on with cloth and then lightly rolling it back/smooth with the roller.
Further irritations were met when it looked like the damn paint wouldn’t crackle anyway, since the mask was still permeable to moisture even with the base coat on.
I’m hoping a longer drying time will give us SOME result.
Otherwise we’re going to have to add layers of lacquer.
I’m already turning a dollar shop nightlight into a $300 light-up accessory. I don’t need lacquer on top of this mess. Ugh.
Cross your fingers for tomorrow. Or give me hints and tips on how to make it go. My goal is the really fine crazing that old glazes get, so that the black shows through a little.