Beyond - Legends Scribblings on a Datapad --A Journal for 2008 Diary Challenge-- AR 9/6

Surprised I am at this twist, eagerly I await the week of continuation!

Not to mention the non-exaughsting pace of exploration while surfing

 

Now I bet Torsy could have been honest in his writing assignment and the teacher would only think he's a typical male.

I've done some research on the Rancorato Place

At least he's trying to prepare....

Great update

 

Very nice, Laine. Seems he's already on his way to being quite the journalist, researching away for his story.

 

Author Replies

VaderLVR64: Oh, I walked into that one! To be entirely honest, I have never seen the entirety of even one of those movies.

Sel: Well, you will find out some more in this upcoming post!! Yeah, teachers are the same, I would suppose. It's a particular personality type.

Mitth: I'm glad you're liking the story! Hope you enjoy the next post!

KELIA: He could have been, but that just would not have occurred to him. Hmm. I wonder what the teacher does think of him...

Lank: Yes, quite (or so I hope). Because he has to eventually turn into the Torsy we know from the RP.

Hope you all enjoy!

ENTRY 9:

Today I went and spoke with Mr. Alderik Relliack. He's the sixty-nine-year-old patriarch of the Relliack family, which always seems to have about a half a dozen redheaded children running about (but they're all lots younger than I am). His eldest son runs the little supermarket on the corner, the one that Mr. Relliack started way back at the dawn of the Empire. They say he's led a life full of excitement and danger, and they say he was running from the law when he came to our rock spur in space. But that's not why I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to talk to him because he'd gotten to Caylanth, Hythrope IV, at the same time that the Rancorato Place was built. And that's what I really wanted to find out about.

I casually walked over and found him in his garden while the half dozen redheads were playing in the backyard. Mr. Relliack has watery blue eyes and a great big grin. "It's Torrence, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I replied. No matter how many times I'd told him that most people called me Torsy or Tor, he always called me Torrence. I don't think he does it out of spite, or even out of forgetfulness. I don't know why he does it (nor why I allow it), but he's one of the very few people I allow to call me "Torrence".

"How can I help you, son?"

"I was wondering about the Rancorato Place," I said. I wasn't about to try and pretend that I'd come for another reason.

Mr. Relliack shook his head slowly. "Ah, that was a bad business, that was," he said.

"What happened?"

"If you want a story, Torrence, read a book," he said, smiling. "If you want information, you had better help me dig these weeds."

So I got down on my knees and began to help Mr. Relliack weed his garden. And then he began to talk.

"Oh, about twenty years ago," he said, "the Rancoratos lived there. Nice family. Paid their taxes, kept their noses clean, that whole bit."

They sounded boring to me, but I nodded and kept weeding.

"But Old Rancorato had a grandson my son's age who was a mean whelp of a being," Mr. Relliack said. "Just wasn't all there, or so it seemed. They sent him off to the Reformatory, but it seems that he learned more badness there than he had running these streets. He tortured the neighborhood pets, stole the small children's money, and spent his free time in the back alleys of Mahcappro. I'm not one to pass on rumors, Torrence, but they say he was facilitating the selling of deathsticks and glitterstim."

"Here? On the civilized side?"

"Big cities ain't that civilized, son. The bigger they get, the more filth they hide. Anyway, one day his parents up and move to another suburb, cutting off contact with all who'd known them before. Their son had been arrested and was tried for murder--they couldn't pin it on him, and so he got away with it."

"Did he really do it? Where'd the murder take place?"

"Nobody really knows, son. It's why no one wants to move into the Rancorato Place," Mr. Relliack said, his browned and wrinkled hands quickly pulling weeds out of the dirt. "I'll tell you one thing, though--it's not a place to go mucking around in, that's for sure. Why're you so intrigued by what happened so long ago?"

Oh, just glanced at the clock. Time to go to bed. More later. Night.

 

Mr. Alderik Relliack sounds like a very interesting character!

 

Ah, looking for eyewitnesses and more reference for his story.

Very nice, Laine. An interesting character, this older gent. Looking forward to more. Sorry it took a couple days to read this update.

 

it's not a place to go mucking around in

Sounds to me like something underhanded went on there. If not the murder, then something else.

I hope Torsy will keep Mr. Relliack's words in mind.

Loved how he helped weed without a word of complaint.

Great update

 

great job!

Thanks for the PM!

PHGS Weyr

 

I like Mr. Alderik Relliack. Sounds like a fun person to talk with. I look forward to more Laine.

And I loved the one before this one too. There were so many things I wanted to be as a kid and many of them were way out there. I can totally relate

 

"Big cities aren't civilized". Very true. A wise ole teacher has our young squire found to guide him in the early nuances of investagation?

Already I see the leason of quidproqo

 

THERE is a very wise man! Torsy sure picked the right source when he went to Mr. Relliack. Whatcha wanna bet that the person who scared the zits off of Torsy and his friends was the miscreant son. Hmmmmmmmm?

 

Author Replies:

VaderLVR64: Yes, he's a very interesting character. One of those local colourful people that everyone knows.

Lank: Yes, eyewitnesses and references--like any good reporter. But Torsy's thinking that he's doing what any smart investigator would.

KELIA: Well, if he'd complained about the weeding, would he have gotten the lowdown?

PHGS_Weyr: Thanks! And no problem about the PM.

Nat: Yeah, Torsy's a typical fourteen-year-old, I hope.

Mitth: Well, Mr. Relliack is not Torsy's only guide, we'll see.

Sel: I'd take that bet. Maybe....

A/N: I'm sorry this is a day late; we had no power and I had no way to post. Argh.

Entry 10

Mr. Relliack's an intelligent man. I respect him, not least of all for the fact that he's made a living here in Caylanth, and for the fact that I know he lets me cut through his yard when I go to S'Danno's when I should really take the sidewalk. But I didn't really want to answer his question, which did demand an answer.

"Uh, writing a report for school, sir," I said. I'm sure I sounded at least halfway convincing.

He raised an eyebrow and his eyes gleamed. "A report, huh?" he said. "What are you, some sort of investigator?"

"You could say that."

"Be careful, Torrence. Use your head," he said. I wonder if he knows what I'm doing. Sometimes adults are like that, always able to tell what a kid is thinking. I mean, yeah, the Jedi can read people's minds, but still! How does a non-Force-user read your mind? I don't know, and it baffles me.

Well, I finished pulling weeds, bade Mr. Relliack goodbye, and went back home.

Dad was stomping around the living room, cursing at the holovision. The Galactic News Network anchor was on there, speaking. "There are rumors floating around of a document implicating the major Bothawui clans in the destruction of Casmas by orbital bombardment at the beginning of the Imperial Era. We are trying to confirm the existence of such a document, and will update you as soon as we know." The reporter ended with his customary signoff, and the screen went to advertisements.

Dad noticed me, and stopped cursing. He flopped into his favorite chair and looked at me. "Torsy, never trust a Bothan," he said, sounding defeated. "At the very least, don't get on their bad sides. Some of them are good folks, I'm sure, but the famous ones are all out for glory and everlasting fame. Or so it seems."

"What's going on?"

"I'm not too sure, your mother would know more about it than I would," he said. "I come out of the office for a break from Carumati's adventures, and lo and behold, the Bothans are at it again. Someone is sure to use this as a jumping point for political crisis, and I expect to see some very anti-Bothan sentiment coming from all quarters. Somebody will profit politically by it, I'm sure."

"But, Dad, you said that all beings are just that, beings. What do you mean, to never trust a Bothan?" I asked, because my dad is usually one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. This was weird, coming from him.

Dad sighed. "I'm sorry, Tor. I misspoke. Just be wary of them, or of anyone else who seems to be offering something that's too good to be true. It may very well be so. When I was in the Rebellion, I met many types of people, and the Bothans were a supposed neutral party who were trying to play both sides. They're very slick politicians, and that gets on my nerves. I wanted to divide the galaxy into Rebs and Imps, and that just wasn't possible. Many people just wanted to live in peace--that's the goal of anybody, son. They want peace and quiet, rest from war, a safe life. Don't forget it," he said.

I nodded, though I'm not too sure that I totally understood him. It was the first time I'd ever heard him really speak about the War. "But bad things happen, Dad," I said. "How do peace and quiet happen if bad things are happening?"

"Help me make dinner for your mom," he said, standing and going into the kitchen. I followed, hopi

 

Mehtinks Torsy's dad might have done things he'd rather not talk about to his young son. Such can be a sad part of war.


Very well done, Laine. Looking forward to the next part.

 

Good on Torsy for telling his Dad 'Thank you'. We need to do it more often ourselves. I know my f-i-l saw and experienced some horrible things during WWII. I try to thank him every chance I get.

Never forget.

 

I nodded. "Dad, thanks for what you did when you were in the Rebellion," I said, though I'm not sure why. Dad got this weird look on his face--it's sort of hard to explain--and he shooed me off to my room and so I wrote this.


Loved that!

 

"Be careful, Torrence. Use your head,"

I hope Torsy remembers that. That's probably the best advice anyone could have given him.

Loved the conversation between father and son.

It's nice to see the respect Luke and Leia have earned.

Great update

 

Author Replies

Lank: Well, sure. I can bet it's fairly sure that both the Empire and the Rebellion had atrocities under their respective belts...

Sel: My grandpas, too. One was army, the other is navy. Though my navy grandpa didn't see much (they patrolled the Pacific), they were part of the first troops to walk into Tokyo after the accords.

VaderLVR64: Glad you liked it!

KELIA: Yes, well, we'll find out whether Torsy uses his head or not, or both. We shall see. I would think that by this time in the GFFA, Luke and Leia should have earned some respect, at least. I don't think the Galaxy is made of people who see them as demi-goods and people who see them as demons. I think that there would be just everyday people, like Tor's Dad, that recognize the fact that soldiers (of any type) are still just people. They get tired, too. They're not superheroes... *gets off mini-soapbox*

Hope you all enjoy!

ENTRY 11:

9:00 AM--The weirdest thing just happened. I mean, like five seconds ago, before I reached Mr. Akalush's classroom and pulled out my datapad. Ms. Woodson approached me and asked me to write for this school newsletter thing that gets sent home to the parents bi-monthly. I asked her, "Why me?" And she gets all teary-eyed and says that I write so beautifully. Ha! I've turned in spacejunk, and if it's good, I can only imagine what the other kids are doing. Unless I'm the only one doing the assignment, because that's a very real possibility in that class. So, of course, I agreed. I have no idea what I'll write about, but, I'll think of something. It has to be written by the next due date, which is in a couple weeks. I scrawled the date on my hand with an ink stylus, so I'm sure I'll remember. Hands are very useful for keeping important facts and dates nearby. At least, I think so. Mom thinks it is 'unhygienic', but then, so is living.

Oh, Mr. Akalush is here. More later.

Okay, looking back over what I wrote this morning, I've realized something very strange. I thoroughly dislike Woodson's class, but yet she likes me. I don't get it, and can't explain it if you asked me to, but whatever. I told Mom and Dad tonight at dinner, and Mom got this happy proud look on her face. Dad set aside his stylus, stood up, and clapped me on the shoulder. "Good, son," he said. "A good way to start your writing career!"

Anyway, don't think I've forgotten about the Rancorato business. I ride past it everyday on my way to school, and that light is still flickering upstairs (though sometimes it's difficult to see because of the nice weather we've been having). I did some digging on the 'Net and found that case that Mr. Relliack talked about. The kid's name was Vact. Whether that was his first or last name, I don't know. I have to find that out. But it seems that the witnesses all refused to testify--and no one knows why. Maybe I should go to the HySec station and ask some questions. Maybe even ask Dar's dad some questions. We shall see. More later.

 

Anyway, don't think I've forgotten about the Rancorato business. I ride past it everyday on my way to school, and that light is still flickering upstairs (though sometimes it's difficult to see because of the nice weather we've been having). I did some digging on the 'Net and found that case that Mr. Relliack talked about. The kid's name was Vact. Whether that was his first or last name, I don't know. I have to find that out. But it seems that the witnesses all refused to testify--and no one knows why. Maybe I should go to the HySec station and ask some questions. Maybe even ask Dar's dad some questions. We shall see. More later.

Loved it!

 

Maybe I should go to the HySec station and ask some questions

Maybe you should be careful who you talk to



I love that Torsy's teacher likes him despite him not liking the class.

Great update

 

I get the feeling - and it's not necessarily a good one - that something is going to break very soon. Yeah, Torsy, be careful who you talk to and what you ask them. As for Ms. Woodson...at least it's the class and not the teacher Torsy focuses his dislike on, but then, it makes you wonder about the teacher, too. Hmmmmmm. What is it in her teaching that turns him off to the class? Her tearfulness, perhaps?

 

Author Replies

VaderLVR64: I'm glad you liked it!

KELIA: Well, this particular person may not be so bad to talk to--but who knows who is listening?

Sel: Perhaps. Not yet. Torsy dislikes the teacher, too, but it's because of the class, not because she's a bad person or anything. If she would only teach something other than what they all learned in like second grade!

Hope you all enjoy!

ENTRY 12:

It's early afternoon, and I'm sitting outside the local HySec station, the one that Dar's dad works at. It's a nice-looking building, sleek, nexu-like. Brick and transparisteel, two or three levels, and an attached garage for the station's speeders. They have four, I think, all with 'Hythrope Security' emblazoned onto the sides and back. Officers are going in and out, out and in. The grass is a vivid green, and yellow flowers bob in the breeze. Overall, it's a rather nice day, but I'm nervous.

Y'see, Dar's dad is the captain, and I really want to ask him my questions, but I'm afraid of the questions he'll ask me! I don't know if the 'it's for a school report' thing will fly with him or not, and I don't know if I'm brave enough to lie to a friend's father and a HySec officer, to boot. Well, here goes everything. More later.

Whew. Finally finished my homework, so I can give the results of my interview of Captain Hughson and record it all down (for a report? for posterity? I don't know). Anyway, I left you, journal, with me outside of the HySec station. Well, I strolled on in and went up to the receptionist. She was wearing gum-pink and eating something chewy, and popped it loudly a few times before she even looked at me. When she did, it was with a sort of bored look, like when I talk about the security holoshows to Dar (he just yawns and says it's all fiction). I hope she hasn't been working there long, because in my estimation (which is rather poor, I suppose. I'm fourteen), it was very unprofessional of her to ignore me like that.

"Whaddya want?" she asked.

"May I speak with Captain Hughson, please?" I asked.

She pressed an intercom button, and a voice responded. I recognized Dar's dad's voice. "Yes, Rhuda?"

"There's a kid here who wants to speak with you," she said, glancing at me like I was a piece of trash brought in by the wind or something.

"I'm free at the moment, send him in," Dar's dad said, and Rhuda nonchalantly waved me in.

His office is pretty large; there's a large bookcase on the right wall, and a little couch on the left--Dar's told me that sometimes, when he's working on a case, his dad spends nights here at the station--and his desk is in the middle. A picture of him and his family sits on the corner of his desk, in a neat, metal-trimmed rim. It was professionally done. I know because Mom and Dad have our family portrait taken there every year because the prices are cheap and the quality good. Dar's dad has green eyes like Dar does, but has brown hair (Dar has red hair because his mom has reddish hair) but I can definitely tell that he's Dar's dad. Plus, Dar had introduced us once at some school function. He and Dad eyed each other warily, then smiled and shook hands. I have no idea about why they did that. Crazy adults.

"You're one of Windar's friends, aren't you?" he asked. (Dar's real name is Windar, just like my real name is Torrence. What is it with parents that name their children strangely?)

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm Torsy Reffins," I said.

"Ah, you're Torrence's son," the captain said. "Met you all at a school function, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"What can I do for you?" he asked, motioning for me to take a seat in one of the cushiony upholstered chairs that had been plunked down in front of his desk.

As I sat, I said, "I'm researching the Rancorato Place."

"You are?" he asked. "Dar said that you might."

I thought then that the nerf had better not have ratted on me, or I was going to have to do...something to him. "Oh, did he?"

"Yes, he said you were doing some extra assignment for school, and had cho

 

Loved the interaction between Torsy and Dar's father!

 

I'm glad Dar's father didn't treat Torsy as rudely as his receptionist did.

Hmmmm...now I'm very curious as to what is on the chip.

Great update

 

OOOOoooooooooooooooooo!!!! A data chip! Oh, what interesting bytes could there be on that little thing? I can hardly wait for more!!!!!!

 

Great Job!

This is brilliant!

Thakns for the pm(s)!

PHGS Weyr