Lets read Everworld-Show me the way to go home.

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > Lets read Everworld-Show me the way to go home.

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Caught up with this today and will enjoy following it through. I never liked the series as much as Animorphs and don't think I ever finished it, but I'm surprised by how much of the little details I remember.

quote:

I had begun to think the Viking kings were at best primitive warriors and at worst drunken fools. But when I shot a fearful glance at the head table I saw a dozen very alert, very intelligent faces.

Remember that if you live, I told myself. Don�t underestimate these men.

I particularly like this. Reminds me of William Gibson talking about how he wrote the characters in The Peripheral, and how he tried to make sure the characters from the "past" (the 2030s) were just as sharp and perceptive as the characters in the future:

quote:

In the book, it�s a sort of transtemporal Skype running on a mysterious Chinese server that accounts for those two eras becoming entangled in a single story. By bringing them face to face, Gibson was addressing the tendency of any given generation to assume that �the inhabitants of the past are hicks and rubes, and the inhabitants of the future are effete, overcomplicated beings with big brains and weak figures. We always think of ourselves as the cream of creation.�

# ? May 13, 2023 10:00

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# ? May 3, 2024 12:25

Comrade Blyatlov: Aug 4, 2007; should have picked four fingers

If you're gonna sing for a group like that, any old marching song is probably a good choice. Good thinking.

# ? May 13, 2023 11:44

effervescible: Jun 29, 2012; i will eat your soul

If he's going to flip from world to world every time he sleeps, I just want to know if he ever actually feels rested.

# ? May 13, 2023 15:55

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 22

quote:

Clock?

I jerked up out of my bed. Covers! Sheets!

I threw them back. I had nothing on, no T-shirt, no warm fur tunic, no dirty running shoes.

My wrists. Normal! No scars.

I fumbled for the light switch and snapped it on.

My room!

I froze, staring. No, no, no. This was a dream. This wasn�t real. In the harsh light it didn�t even look real.

�Oh, man,� I muttered. �Something here is messed up.�

I climbed out of bed, slowly, carefully, like I might break something. I went to my

closet and searched for my Radiohead T-shirt. The one I had been wearing.

It was gone. So was the cutoff sweatshirt.

My running shoes, gone.

Everything I�d been wearing was gone.

I just stood there, totally lost. Was this the dream? Was that the dream? Were they both dreams and April was right that I was a lunatic locked in a padded cell somewhere, imaging I was me?

I grabbed the phone. Jalil. I�d call Jalil.

And ask him what, at three in the morning? �Hi, Jalil, are you having my same nightmare?�

Senna. She was the key.

I dressed as quickly as I could. Down the stairs. Silent. I looked in my mom�s room. The door was closed. So this was a different night, not the same night.

Out into the dark street. Dawn was a long way off. Here it was dark; there it was bright morning. Maybe.

I walked fast, boots loud on the sidewalk. It was chilly. Damp, but not rainy. I walked past normal houses with normal fences and hedges and lawns. Some entirely dark. Others with a porch light burning. In one I saw the blue light of a TV. Some insomniac up late. Or early. Whichever it was.

Senna�s house was eight blocks away. Her folks had money. They were on this little private street right down near the beach.

I trotted a little. I wasn�t tired. But why not? I�d been exhausted in� in my dream? In the other place? In bizarre Vikingland.

Senna�s house. It had a high privacy hedge all around the street side. On the beach side it had a stone fence. Easier to go over the fence.

I scrabbled up and over it and landed on their manicured lawn. No lights on. I knew, though, which was Senna�s window. April had said her room adjoined Senna�s.

It was on the second floor at one end of the house. Extending out beneath it was a wraparound screened porch. The supports for the porch roof were thick beams, pedestaled and ornate.

It wasn�t an easy climb, but it wasn�t impossible, either.

It occurred to me that I was acting crazy. By anyone�s standards. But I had to know. I had to know right then. As long as someone didn�t see me and call the cops. Senna wouldn�t mind.

Probably.

Nah, why should she? Some guy she�s just started dating comes creeping into her room in the middle of the night? Man, she�d scream and have her dad and stepmom throw me in jail.

I had lost my grip on definitions of normal. I was back in a world of logic and reason.

Or if not reason, then at least consistency, predictability.

No stopping, not now, too late. I was committed. Climbing. I had to know, had to. Sleep would never have come, anyway. I couldn�t have Everworld burning away in my brain and not know, know for sure if I was sane or mad.

I crept along the porch roof. I found the window. I tried it cautiously. It was unlocked. I slid it up with infinite care. Inch by inch.

Then I reached inside and parted the gauzy white curtains. Was she there? Was she in her bed, warm, waiting for me? Would she wake, surprised but not alarmed, ready to give way to the moment, draw me down into her arms, stretch her body against mine?

I swallowed. Which Senna was I looking for? Which dream of Senna?

�Senna?� I whispered.

No answer.

Then, �It�s me. David. Don�t be scared.�

I stuck my head inside.

�I wondered if this would be your first move,� a female voice said.

A small light came on. April had her hand on the lamp.

�She�s not here,� April said.

I looked at her. She looked at me and slowly nodded.

�Yeah,� she said. �It�s real.�

What do they say? Reality is a shared delusion?

# ? May 14, 2023 03:36

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 23

quote:

Senna�s bed was a double. The room was plenty big for it. A down comforter was folded, all puffy, stuffed out of the way in a big wicker basket. The bed wore only a thin cotton blanket, two pillows.

Her desk was missing the computer almost every student�s desk had. The mahogany surface was polished. Schoolbooks, notebook, pens, and pencils.
I leaned over to open a drawer, feeling I had no right, but feeling spiteful, too. It was ocked.

The walls were decorated with a small number of framed posters. Framed posters, generic vintage advertising posters, nothing she�d have chosen. Decorator-chosen. No thumbtacked posters of favorite bands, no photographs of friends taped to a dressing table mirror.
No dressing table mirror. No mirror at all.
�Senna disappeared three days ago,� April said in a whisper.
�
Three days? What do you mean, three days? It was today. Yesterday, I mean.�

April nodded, an action that set off a cascade of auburn hair. �It seems like yesterday here and yesterday there aren�t the same day. Just to confuse things further, I don�t know how long I�ve been here. I was asleep. But search your memory, David. You�ll realize you remember being at school yesterday while we were in Everworld.�

I stared at her. Probably I looked a little nuts. But it was a lunatic world. The weird thing was, she was right: I did remember going to school the day before. I remembered both: Loki�s castle, the Viking feast� and getting up and going to school like any normal day. But the normal part of my memory, homeroom, the gym, talking to some guy named Tony about whether I�d change lockers with him because he wanted one closer to most
of his classes�all that, all that everyday, day-in0day-out stuff was like remembering a still photograph. The Everworld part was in vivid color, full-motion video.

�Is that bathroom through there?� I asked, and without waiting for an answer, tried the door, flicked on the light. It was private, not connected to any other room.

No medicine cabinet, no mirror.

There was a wire bin on a shelf. I looked in. Toothpaste, a brush, a comb, Band-Aids, matches. No makeup. Matches.

�Tell me you�ve figured this all out,� I said to April.

She formed one of her patented half smiles. �Not me. I�ve figured nothing out. Except that I don�t think any of this is a dream, even though it should be. I woke up in my room next door. And I had memories of knowing that Senna had disappeared. I had memories of us being down at the lake, watching her out on the pier. And memories of my folks asking whether I knew what had happened to her.�

�They must be worried out of their minds.�

�You�d think that, wouldn�t you?� April said, eyeing me shrewdly. �We have the same dad, different moms, you know. Everyone�s kind of vague about what happened to Senna�s mom. I mean, you know, I kind of filled in the blanks, but no one ever just came out and said that she ran off. So maybe you could figure my mom, Senna�s stepmom, wouldn�t care all that much, but my mom�s not that way. She treats us both the same. At
least I think so.�

I led the way back into the bedroom. �Wait a minute. I�m losing this here. You�re saying, what? You have memories of the last two days and you remember your folks noticing that Senna was gone. But neither of them is worried?�

�They act worried,� April said.

�Emphasis on �act�?�

�Yeah. Act. As in not real. As in concealing some other, truer emotion.� �What emotion?�

�Relief.�

We both just kind of looked at each other. This was way deep. Way deep for David Levin. Way over my head. One day there was three days here. We�me and April for sure, maybe Jalil and Christopher, too�were not missing. We were still here. And there.

Living our lives in both places.

I pressed my palms against my head and April laughed a quiet laugh. �Head exploding?�

I put my hands down, feeling sheepish. �Yeah. Major exploding head. Like I felt when I was in that physics class before I bailed out. I don�t think that way. I mean, I do okay thinking in a straight line. Point A to point B to point C. you start talking about a lot of �if this, then that,� I lose it.�

�The question is: Will the �real world� us remember that we were here, sitting here, talking about Senna?�

�You assume that we�ll go back to Everworld.�

She shrugged. �I assume that when we wake up there, we�ll be back there.�

�So this is a dream.�

April seemed to be searching her memory. �Something someone told me once: �Maybe dreams aren�t in your head. Maybe dreams are memories of another universe.� �

�Some New Age guy?�

�Senna. I had a nightmare once. Woke up screaming. I was maybe ten, eleven. My dad came in and said, �Don�t worry, dreams aren�t real. They�re just neurons firing randomly in your brain.� As soon as he was gone, Senna came over. Told me it wasn�t in my head, it was real, but real in a different way, in a different place. It wasn�t exactly comforting.�

I remembered the dream of her coming to me. Kissing me. Calling me names she didn�t like to say. I remembered the coldness of her, and the greedy way she�d told me I would always be hers. And I remembered what followed, what I felt, and what I would give my life to feel again.
I scanned shelves of books. School assigned reading. I don�t know what I expected to see. The room was a blank. It was devoid of personality. It could have been a hotel room.

�Senna�s not a comforting person,� I said belatedly. �So now what?�

April sighed. �Damned if I know.� She sat down on the bed and absentmindedly stroked the blanket beside her.
�It�s like no one lived in this room,� I said angrily. I�d wanted some clue, some explanation. Senna had given me nothing. Again

�She didn�t give much away,� April said. Then, �You know what�s stupid? I woke up thinking I needed to get in some serious studying on chemistry. There�s a test tomorrow. But guess what? No chemistry book. Also no backpack. It�s all over there.�

I nodded. My own real-world memory told me I had a paper due. It was ludicrous.

Tomorrow would either involve me making excuses to my teachers, or waking up in a Viking barn next to cows. Or both. Or neither. Or�

I sat down beside her. She was real. I was real. This room was not. Every piece of it, every detail was real, from some store or catalog, all of it merchandise, all of it matter, but in the aggregate, all together, it was a fake.

�I wish we could load up on some firepower and take that back with us,� I said. �I don�t know if you can hurt Loki with a nine-millimeter hollow point, but I�d like to try.�
�
You�re such a boy,� April said. �Why not wish for a tank while you�re at it?�

Her laugh drove the weirdness away for a moment. �Not a bad idea,� I said with a smile. �An M-1 Abrams tank would be the perfect way to travel in Everworld.�

�Good lord, you even know the tank�s cute little name.�

She was awfully attractive. I felt it suddenly. I mean, she was close, we were whispering, sitting on a bed, and we were both scared little puppies, despite all the calm talk. She was very beautiful. April was.

�You know�� I started to say. Then I changed tack. �You know, before yesterday, the night before, I was with Senna.�

�With as in with?� April asked in pretended shock.

�No, no. Just with. She said� I mean, she knew something was going to happen. She told me so. Something awful. I though she was nuts.�

April wasn�t smiling anymore. The charged moment was over. She looked deadly serious. �What do you mean, David?�
�I mean, she said, �Something is going to happen.� And then�� I hesitated. Somehow it was just between me and Senna, what she�d said. And it would sound insane. �Never mind.�

�Uh-uh,� April said. �No. We�re all in this. That was me hanging by my wrists, right alongside you. Tell me.�

�Yeah. Okay. She� she asked me if I�d save her. �Will you save me, David?� That�s what she said.�

April�s green eyes went cold. �That bitch. She�s done it again.�

�Again? What again?� I asked. But I asked it of the cow whose white face was looking down stupidly at me as it munched the hay around my ear.

What's weird is...well. a lot of stuff. But what's weird is that Senna doesn't have any mirrors.

# ? May 16, 2023 03:03

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

I read I think like half of this series but don't remember it much, especially not the Senna stuff, so this is just speculation: feels Senna is originally from Everworld, since what she said to April (and David) implies she already knew about it, and I would guess that her mother is from there too.

Epicurius posted:

What's weird is...well. a lot of stuff. But what's weird is that Senna doesn't have any mirrors.

This I think is less a vampire/spirit thing and more an indication that Senna isn't a normal teenage girl and doesn't give a gently caress about her appearance or much else in this world, because she doesn't think of it as the "real" world.

# ? May 16, 2023 09:27

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

Yeah this is wild that they're still "existing" in the real world while in everworld.

# ? May 16, 2023 16:49

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

There's also clearly some time differential between the two as its been 3 days in the 'real' world and like a day and a half at most in Everworld.

Also interesting that they only synch back together when the Everworld version falls asleep since the Everworld parts aren't getting constant updates about new papers and whatnot.

# ? May 16, 2023 17:15

liquidypoo: Aug 23, 2006; Chew on that... you overgrown son of a bitch.

I wonder if their earth autopilot counterparts are aware of the everworld side of things. I mean, they can't have meaningful conversations about it since that would be plot development off-camera, for lack of a better term, but it's still something to think about

# ? May 16, 2023 17:20

kiminewt: Feb 1, 2022

But how does it work when only one of them is asleep and tries to talk to the "autopilot" version of the others? Guess we'll find out.

It's interesting but I feel like the plot has still yet to start.

# ? May 16, 2023 17:48

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

kiminewt posted:

It's interesting but I feel like the plot has still yet to start.

yeah this is my only real complaint

# ? May 16, 2023 18:05

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 24

quote:

�drat it!� Christopher yelled.

He turned his head and looked at me furiously. �You woke me up. Why did you wake me up? I was back home. I was just about to carry out a serious refrigerator raid. My mom made a cheesecake! A strawberry cheesecake, and I don�t mean one of those thingsfrom a mix; the woman can make cheesecake.�

Then he looked at me again, more dubious. �David? Are you spooning me?�

To my abject horror, I was. In the night�actually day, but it was dark in the barn�in our utter exhaustion, I had cuddled up with Christopher.

I pushed him away and jumped to my feet.

April and Jalil stuck their heads around the corner, looking into the stall.

�Oh, you�re up?� Jalil asked. �We�ve been up for a few seconds, but we didn�t want to disturb you two. Frankly you� well��he said with a not-at-all-innocent grin��you looked like you might want some more time together.�
�
That is just so funny, Jalil,� Christopher said, climbing to his feet.

�I thought so,� April said.

Christopher brushed straw from his jeans. �So let me just ask: Anyone else have, shall we say, interesting dreams?�

�I called you, David,� Jalil said. �Woke your mom up. She was pissed. She didn�t seem to want to get you to the phone.�

�I wasn�t there, anyway,� I said. �April and I went to look in Senna�s room.

�She�s missing,� Christopher said. �Everyone at school has been talking about it.�

The cow nosed me, pushing me aside so she could reach the hay I�d slept on. The milking was long since over. Dim exterior light penetrated the barn from the far end, where the door stood open.

It was day. Day here, anyway. Maybe back in the world it was already a week later.

I walked toward the light.

�Parallel universe,� Jalil said.

�What?�

�I think that�s what it is. How else are you going to explain it? We�re here, we�re there, simultaneously. Only not, because time here and time there are running at different speeds.�
�
It�s magic,� April said. �Enchantment.�

�Magic, my rear end,� Jalil said.

We stepped out into brilliant sunlight. The grass was a green fire. The sky looked like that blue-sky wallpaper you get on Windows computers: perfect, with a perfect mix of fluffy white clouds.

Most of the cows were off on the upslope, munching grass. Cows in one loose gaggle, sheep in another. A stream I hadn�t noticed earlier tumbled and leaped down the slope�whitewater, but far too narrow and shallow for even a kayak.

�Hell of a coincidence having two different universes where so much is the same, don�t you think?� Christopher pointed out. �Sheep and goats and cows and grass, and the sky is blue, and the water runs downhill, and the local big shots are all mythical gods, and, oh, by the way, everyone speaks English? Very Earthlike for being a parallel universe.�

�The Hetwan are not Earthlike,� Jalil pointed out mildly. �Neither are the laws of physics. We fell too slowly, but gravity seems the same here as always. Loki changes size whenever he wants, wolves talk, and a giant snake calls Loki �Daddy.� That snake can�t exist, you realize. No way. Not on Earth. Not in our universe. Neither can that wolf. Animals are a certain size for a reason. That wolf, that big? He should have elephant legs to carry the weight. You increase height and length, you increase weight geometrically. You�d need a different design. You can�t have some tiptoeing wolf that�s the size of a
Seismosaurus. Laws of physics, man. Laws of freaking physics, which do not change anywhere in the universe.�

�Anyone else notice anything weird about that one horse? The one grazing off by himself?� April asked.

I squinted. Aprils must have good eyes. But when I squinted harder, I saw it. The horn. The single horn, like a ten-inch spear, that stuck straight out from the horse�s head.

�Okay,� I said as calmly as I could. �That�s a unicorn.�

Jalil nodded. �Yep. That�s a unicorn.�

�What�s keeping the fairies and leprechauns and the Keebler Freaking Elves?�

Christopher demanded. �Any minute now some little toad-boy with a shamrock hat is going to pop up out of the grass and say, �Always after me Lucky Charms.� I want to go home. I want my mommy. Or at least her cheesecake.�

I spotted Thorolf. He was coming downhill from the nearest sheep. He was walking in giant steps. Happiest guy in the world, from the look on his face.
�The ewe is pregnant and the wind is fair!� he bellowed.

I glanced at Jalil. �Say what?�

He made a �search me� face.

Thorolf galumphed on over and slapped me on the shoulder. �The ewe is pregnant, hah-hah-hah, I knew Ildric�s ram would do his duty by us. She�ll have a fine litter come spring.�

�Oh,� I said, trying to sound interested. �So� baby sheep, right?�

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. �I must make a sacrifice to Frey before we sail. I can�t leave something like that to Gudrun. She�ll decide to be thrifty and offend Frey with a paltry sacrifice.�

�Sail?� Christopher asked. � �We sail.� You mean you and the other Vikings.�

Thorolf looked at Christopher, perplexed. �And you as well, of course.�

�We have to sail somewhere?�

Thorolf tilted his head indulgently, like he was dealing with not-very-bright children. �You are free to sail or not, as you wish,� he said. �But these are Loki�s lands, now that he rules the castle. And when Olaf Ironfoot has moved on with his host, the priests and
creatures of Loki will soon find you.�
�
Ah,� Christopher said.

Thorolf clapped a big hand on Christopher�s back. �You don�t fear battle, do you? Ahhah- hah!�

�Me, no. Love battle. Who are we, who are we battling?�

�The sun-worshipers, of course. Crafty, cruel, and hard men,� Thorolf said. �They slaughter prisoners like pigs, making sacrifices of thousands at a time. Though they tell tales that they first adore them, feeding them delicacies by the bucket and wine by the barrel. And, ah, the women� �

�The sun-worshipers?� April asked.

�Yes, yes. We go to seize a ransom for the All-Father. We must free wise Odin. With Thor lost to us, who else will save us from the Hetwan?�

I shrugged. �I don�t know.� I�d been wrong. The Hetwan were becoming my problem.
�These sun-worshipers. Do they have another name?� April asked politely.

Thorolf nodded. �All peoples have more than one name, child. The sun-worshipers are also called the Mexica, the blood-drinkers, the man-eaters, the Aztecs.�

�Aztecs? We�re going to hop in a bunch of Viking longboats and go kick butt on some Aztecs?� Christopher asked incredulously.

Thorolf mistook that for enthusiasm. �We will trample out the vineyards where the grapes of wrath are stored, ah-hah-hah!�

There. Things are starting to happen.

# ? May 17, 2023 02:59

Malpais Legate: Oct 1, 2014

You can't really be vikings unless you go a-viking so really the team here should've expected to go to war.

# ? May 17, 2023 03:57

Mazerunner: Apr 22, 2010; Good Hunter, what... what is this post?

time for some age of empires, 1v1 arabia go

# ? May 18, 2023 11:21

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

You doing okay epi?

# ? May 19, 2023 13:32

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Sorry, everyone. I haven't been available because I haven't been feeling great.

# ? May 22, 2023 20:18

someone awful.: Sep 7, 2007

Take all the time you need, Epicurius! We'll be here when you're recovered.

# ? May 22, 2023 20:24

Edna Mode: Sep 24, 2005; Bullshit, that's last year's Fall collection!

I was just assuming that you've been awake in Everwold and that the "real world" you wasn't as interested in updating the thread.

# ? May 22, 2023 23:41

Malpais Legate: Oct 1, 2014

Edna Mode posted:

I was just assuming that you've been awake in Everwold and that the "real world" you wasn't as interested in updating the thread.

Too busy investigating the room of the mysterious girl who took them there.

# ? May 23, 2023 00:05

Coca Koala: Nov 28, 2005; ongoing nowhere; College Slice

I remember reading these books as a kid but I know i never finished the series and I have no idea where I fell off of them.

It�s super interesting revisiting them as an adult - David�s got a lot of teenage emotiona going on and is clearly very concerned with what it means to be brave, to be mature, to be manly, and then we get dropped in with a bunch of Vikings just bawling listening to �Killing Me Softly� and David a) knows that he shouldn�t be underestimating these dudes but also B) observes that these guys clearly feel like there is nothing shameful about crying or displaying your emotions. Curious to see how those themes get explored and expanded on as the books continue.

# ? May 23, 2023 21:00

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 25

quote:

The village was a swarm of activity. Shaven-headed slaves were rushing back and
forth, mostly shuttling enormous loads down to the dock. There they dumped their burdens off into boats rowed by more slaves. The supplies moved out to the ships, all to the encouraging bellows of Viking petty officers.

It was afternoon, with the sun already dropping from its peak. It wasn�t hot. I had the feeling it never really got hot around this place.

Nevertheless, out on the boats I saw Viking crews stripped to the waist, trouser legs rolled up. They were coiling ropes, checking the caulking between the strakes, shinnying up the masts to check the seating of the single spar. They hauled on stays and went over the oars looking for cracks. They attached new sails and supervised the slaves who were manhandling pallets of bread, entire sides of beef, live sheep, live chickens, and barrels of what might be water or beer down into the shallow holds.

It was a picture of purposeful, serious, directed activity.

�Wow. Mass confusion,� Christopher said.

�Uh-uh,� I said. �Only if you don�t know what you�re looking at. I�ll tell you something: These boys have done this before. These guys are pros.�

The ships, on closer examination, came in several sizes, and no two were identical. Each had the almost-matching stern and prow that would allow the boat to reverse without turning around, the same single mast and square sail. But on some, the
figurehead blazed with silver and gold. And some were quite long and large: I could count twenty-five oarlocks a side. That presupposed fifty rowers, when needed, plus petty officers, officers, and at least one guy to handle the big starboard-mounted
steering oar.

I did not see the longboat with Loki�s symbol, the one that had carried the old man to make the ritual sacrifice. But it would have been easy to overlook in the crowded harbor. �That is our ship,� Thorolf said, pointing to a boat of average size lying well out in the water. �She is called the Dragonshield. She is one of Harald Goldtooth�s ships. He has three, and the Dragonshield is his flagship. Her figurehead was carved and inlaid with gold by dwarves.�

�Of course. Dwarves. Had to be dwarves,� Christopher muttered. �What looney bin is complete without dwarves and elves?�

�There are very few elves around these parts,� Thorolf said sadly. �Elves are found to the south, though once they lived nearby in greater numbers. Much has changed, and not for the good. We were fortune to be given a bench on Harald�s ship. Since Loki came
and strangled Earl Jens, may that good man have been carried swiftly to Valhalla, we have been allowed no ships in this land. No ships but the tribute ship.� He spit on the ground. It was a statement of his feelings about the tribute ship and Loki more generally.

A rowboat nosed up to the pier and Thorolf jumped in, moving like an experienced sailor, taking the roll easily. He reached up a hand to me.
I ignored it and jumped across, landing on a vacant bench, catching my balance almost as easily as he had. I saw an eyebrow rise. A sailor knows a sailor.

Together we got Jalil, April, and Christopher into the boat. The slave oarsman rowed us out into a thicket of small boats that reminded me of the Dan Ryan Expressway at rush hour.

�We saw a unicorn back on your farm,� April said.

�Yes, yes, we see unicorns there from time to time. They say that unicorns may only be handled by virgins,� he said with a sly wink at April.
�
Kind of makes you regret that homecoming dance, huh, April?� Christopher said brightly.

April batted her eyes. �You shouldn�t listen to rumors.�

�You know what they say about rumors: They�re always true.�

At that point we came around the sheltering point out into more open water. I saw the castle. The very wall where we�d been hung by the wrists. I had a dark, nasty feeling about those massive stone walls. I had seen a small part of the horrors contained in the castle and in the tunnels that cut deep into the black cliffs.

My blood was on those walls.

�Thorolf,� I began, as casually as I could, �have you ever heard of a girl named Senna? Some say she�s a witch.�

Thorolf glanced over his shoulder up toward the castle, a nervous reaction. �Don�t talk to me about witches! Do you want to curse this entire voyage?�

Jalil shot me a look. �You know, we may have enough on our hands without worrying about Senna.�

�We�re getting ready to sail away, who knows how far?� I said. �She may be here. We may be abandoning her.�

�She may be there,� Jalil argued. �After

all, if Lo� if the Big Creep lost her, what�s to say she�s anywhere around here?�

�If he�s looking for her, maybe we should stick close to him. He finds her, we find her.�

Jalil shook his head. �That�s fine, except for one little problem: He finds us, we�re dead. Dead, we aren�t much use to Senna. Or anyone else.�
April said, �You know, David, maybe things aren�t as random as you think. Maybe we�re doing exactly what we have to do.�

�Yeah, the Great Cosmic All is guiding our steps,� Christopher said, mock-serious. �Karma, dude. It�s all, like, karma.�

I looked again at the castle. And then at the village. I was looking for something. A sign, maybe. Hoping for an intuition to guide me. But all I had was a memory of a dream. Senna, calling me names that made her angry. Names that might someday be mine. Maybe a hand was guiding me, and all of us. Maybe, even, it was Senna�s own hand. Life�s so much easier if you think that way. So much easier to blame some unseen force.
I closed my eyes and felt the last of the dream, the moment when she had softened, become warm, and pressed her body against mine.

That was the Senna I would find. But Jalil was right: I�d have to live to do it.

So, a little bit about Norse witchcraft, or seithr. Practitioners were called seithkonur or seithrmenn, and practitioners could be both male or female, although among men, it was associated with effeminacy and homosexualty. Male practitioners would swear oaths and offer sacrifices to Odin, and female to Freya. So far as we can tell, the practice involved both divination and cursing/using magic to affect other people. It seems to have been frowned upon except in very specific circumstances, especially among men, although some of that might have been later There's probably an essay about the concept of ergi in newly Christianized Iceland out there.

# ? May 24, 2023 03:55

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

Glad to see you back.

# ? May 24, 2023 15:57

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 26

quote:

We reached the ship. The sides were not much higher than our rowboat, but it was still a chore getting the three landlubbers up and over.
�Harald Goldtooth and his sons, Sancho and Sven Swordeater,� Thorolf said. He nodded to midship, where the crew was rigging a striped tent.

Harald Goldtooth was easy to spot. When he grinned�which was not often�you saw two flashes of gold right where his canine teeth had been. I�d seen him the night before at the feast. He glanced at us, decided we were not important, and went back to discussing business with his two sons. One of the sons was the young Viking with the stab wound through both cheeks.

I was guessing he was the one called Swordeater.

�Sancho?� Christopher asked. �That�s a Norse name?�

�There has obviously been some intermarriage, Christopher,� Jalil said. �You did happen to notice that King Olaf was a brother, didn�t you?�

�You sure he�s not just really tan?�

Suddenly, a horn blast. It echoed through the harbor. Then again. And a third time. A roar went up from a thousand threats. On shore, women waved good-bye. But there were women aboard, too. Evidently some Vikings brought their wives, or at least their close personal friends.

Harald Goldtooth stepped out of the tent just long enough to give a curt, businesslike nod to the officer who must have been his captain.
The captain in turn nodded to the guy I assumed was the mate. I had no clear sense of what ranks and functions there were aboard this ship. No one was wearing a uniform and I saw no insignias of rank.

�Man the oars!� the mate bellowed, and there followed a wild tramping and pushing and shoving as men ran to their appointed posts.

Thorolf left us standing, feeling stupid and out of place. Four dorks from a different universe.

�When does the steward show us to our cabins?� Christopher asked.

I walked over to the empty bench, sat down, and worked the long, heavy oar into the oarlock as I�d seen the crew do.

The mate strode over. �You�re cargo. You don�t need to row.�

�I�ll row,� I said.

The man laughed. �You�ll foul the other oars. Go away. Stand with your woman and the other minstrels.�

It was a test. At least that�s how I saw it. �If I foul another rower, I will stand with the others,� I said.

�Up oars!� the mate yelled in response. All the oars came up out of the water. A sense of anticipation filled the air. Excitement. This wasn�t a crew being driven against its will. There were grins and nods and exchanged winks.

�STROKE!� a new voice hollered, and all the oars hit the water at the same moment. I kept my eyes glued on the man in front of me. He wasn�t big, but his bare back was nothing but rippling muscles.

He moved, I moved.

�Up and STROKE!� The bos�n�for lack of any better term�called the rhythm. The ship began to make way, amazingly easily. Not that the rowing would be easy after an hour. But for now it was more a matter of catching the precise pace, the exact flow of synchronized movements.

The cry of �stroke� stroke� was replaced by a drum, pounding hard on the start of each pull, tapping gently on the return stroke.

I pulled hard, putting my back into it. Thorolf was three benches up from me on the other side, doing the same. There were fifteen of us to a side, thirty men pulling in unison.

And all around us, visible as I rolled forward at the end of a stroke, were ships. Some larger, some smaller, all cutting the water, all moving. It was an awesome sight. An awesome spectacle that I was a part of. Something no one had seen in the real world for centuries: a Viking fleet putting to sea.

STROKE with the drumbeat, pull, pull, pull, then lift, roll forward, stretch out, way out, then STROKE and push with your legs, thigh muscles burning, and the narrow, shallow-draft ship would leap through the water.
�
Harald Goldtooth!� a rowdy voice called out from off the port side. �Harald Goldtooth! Do you have women rowing that slow, diseased-pit of a boat? Should I send some of my true, hearty men across to help you before those weak-limbed, venereal diseased old women you calla crew faint from their exertions?�

His crew gave him a roar of approval, followed by shouted obscene suggestions relating to all of us.

Harald yelled back, �Edrick, you senile, effeminate dog, Thor himself could not blow the wind that could speed your filthy wreck of a ship faster than the Dragonshield.�

This, of course, was the signal for our crew to taunt and ridicule Edrick�s crew.

�My white mare against your best bull!� Edrick shouted, laying out the bet. �First to pass the line of the point!�

Yeah, it was all juvenile. Like junior high school with swords. But it worked. We�d only been pretending to row. Now we rowed. The drumbeat accelerated and we hauled oar, yelling like idiots on each pull, the Vikings egging one another on.

My hands were soon blood-raw. My back was screaming. My legs were on fire. My arms were lead. I�d probably never be able to unbend my fingers again.

But all second thoughts, all doubts, all dreams and memories of dreams were set aside as my world honed down to the rhythm and the strain.

It was a dumb, energy-draining race. I was on my way to a battle that was none of my business, surrounded by simple, illiterate men who were no part of my universe, on a mission from a lunatic mythical god.

And it occurred to me then that at that moment I was as happy as I�ve ever been in my life.

David has finally found his element.

# ? May 25, 2023 04:37

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

Feels like he's desperately clinging to something familiar, as prefaced by how stoked he is to get on the boat in the first place and roll his eyes at the three "landlubbers," and especially in contrast to what he saw as his failure of manhood back at the castle. Might just be my opinion but I think Everworld does unreliable narrators more subtly than Animorphs did.

Re: black King Olaf, I'm assuming this is an Everworld thing? I know Vikings were more wordly than people assume and travelled as far as Africa and Central Asia, and brought people back with them, but I wouldn't think you'd ever end up with a black king.

(Read a fun novel a while ago called The Long Ships - apparently it's a classic in Sweden - about a bunch of Vikings and the first third of it is about them spending years in service to an Islamic lord in Spain.)

# ? May 25, 2023 09:44

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

freebooter posted:

Re: black King Olaf, I'm assuming this is an Everworld thing? I know Vikings were more wordly than people assume and travelled as far as Africa and Central Asia, and brought people back with them, but I wouldn't think you'd ever end up with a black king.

I get the feeling people are spread out differently. They can apparently easily sail longboats to the land of the Aztecs, and like David points out; "'Yes, the big, blond type predominated heavily, but there were Vikings who looked like they�d just come in from South America, Africa, or China. And a
lot who looked less easily identifiable: mixes of Nordic and Asian, Nordic and African."

# ? May 25, 2023 16:09

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Chapter 27

quote:

Just beyond the point we caught a following breeze. The Viking ships were great fort heir time and place, but they weren�t much good at sailing close to the wind. They could tack�move back and forth at angles to a wind that was against us�but only slowly and clumsily. Any weekend sailor in the real world could have sailed circles around these ships.

And the Viking ships had no weapons, aside from the men. A ship like theConstitution, a War of 1812-era ship armed with cannons, could have blown an infinite number of Viking ships out of the water.
But this was a ship designed eight hundred years or so before the Constitution.

Which made me wonder. How long had Everworld existed? When had it formed, if that�s what had happened? How many local years had passed without the Vikings ever learning to use fore and aft sails? Or at least multiple masts?

The breeze stayed fair for all that afternoon and evening. Once under way, there wasn�t much for me to do. I could row well enough, but I didn�t know how to trim a square sail, and no one was going to put me on the steering oar.

Christopher and Jalil and I were given a few inches of deck as a bed. They rigged a tarp that shielded us from most of the spray, but it was going to be a hard, cold, wet night.

April slept under the tent. The back half belonged to the women�wives and mistresses. Harald, his son Sancho, and a couple of the higher-ranking guys slept there. Not much better off than us peasants, but better enough that it made Jalil grumble.

Getting to sleep wasn�t easy. I knew what sleep would mean. So did everyone. We made plans to get together on the other side.
But it wasn�t that easy. I fell asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of the ship under me and by my own deep physical exhaustion. I slept�

�Grande latte and a no-whip Venti Mocha,� the cashier called.

I stared at her. �What?�

�Grande latte and a no-whip Venti Mocha,� she repeated.

I stared at the espresso machine before me. I stared at the stainless steel container of foamed milk in my left hand. I stared at the customer, who was staring at me. I reached down and grabbed a handful of my dark green apron. Starbucks. Where I worked three nights a week. I was at work.

Now the cashier was staring at me, too. �Grande latte and a no-whip Venti Mocha,� I repeated faintly. I started to make the drinks. The motions were automatic. Flicking the coffee from the grinder, twisting on the steam, pumping the chocolate syrup for the mocha.
�
Is that skim?� the customer asked me. He was a middle-aged guy with a gray ponytail.

�Do you want skim?�

�Yeah, make it skim.�

I changed milk containers and began to steam the skim milk.

What else was I supposed to do? I was at work, and it was a good job for someone myage. I was sixteen and the manager had stretched the rules to let me trains as a barrista. The guy who makes the drinks.

It paid better than Mickey D�s, and the humiliation quotient was lower. I worked three six-hour shifts, earning eight-fifty an hour plus a share of tips. I needed the hundred and twenty bucks a week I cleared after taxes. I had college to think about. Not to mention a car from this decade.

This was in my head. All that rational, sensible stuff. It was in my head right next tothe crazed voice yelling about Vikings.
�
What flavor are those biscotti?� the customer asked me, since the cashier was busywith the next customer.

I felt like screaming, �How the hell do I know what flavor the lousy biscotti are, you ponytailed freak? I�m asleep on the deck of a Viking longboat on my way to a war!�

But I knew the answer. I mean, somehow I knew what flavor biscotti we had.

�Amaretto and chocolate chip,� I said.

The guy turned up his nose.

�Grande iced cappuccino, two tall cappuccinos,� the new customer said.

�One Grande iced cap, two tall cappuccino,� the cashier repeated for my benefit. I flicked coffee. I tamped it down. I punched the button.

I should call Jalil. That was the plan. Once we were over, we�d all hook up, call one another, get together, try and make sense of everything.
No time now, though. I was at work. You couldn�t just walk out on work. This was a good job. Anthony, my boss, was a good guy. I had a duty.
A duty? A duty to make coffee for snotty yuppies? How was this my life? How was making coffee my life?

As soon as I was done with this next customer, I�d make a call. Jalil first. He�d told me his number. They were unlisted, so I�d have to remember.

This was crazy!

�Here you go, sir. Grande skim latte, Venti Mocha, no whip cream.� I worked the tops on and handed the drinks over.

Ka-ching. The cash register drawer opened and closed with a bang.

People sitting at tables, sipping drinks. The room warm with wood and soft lights. Bags of coffee all lined up, stocked up. Shelves of cups and coffeemakers. Someone needed to restock the�

I grabbed my head. This was crazy! This was�

A foot tramped down on my outstretched hand. One of the crewmen, moving aft to tighten a stay.

I blinked and looked around. The ship. Snoring Vikings all around. Jalil and Christopher closest by. Jalil snoring. Christopher, eyes open, looking up at the stars.

I was exhausted. Tired in every muscle, every bone.

I drifted back to sleep.

I figure he has bigger problems right now than impressing his boss, but we all cope our own way....

# ? May 26, 2023 03:38

Mazerunner: Apr 22, 2010; Good Hunter, what... what is this post?

I too, have had work dreams where I toil at some drudgery despite knowing I had some other, better thing to be doing

# ? May 26, 2023 06:54

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

The double world thing is interesting but I never found it as engaging as Animorphs, precisely because they're such clearly delineated separate worlds for everybody except David, April et al. In Animorphs, the main characters are going through the drudgery of their daily lives while secretly knowing that they're heroes - that the future of literally everybody else, from their closest family to the yuppie Starbucks customers, are dependent on their hidden battle. Whereas even if David could make the yuppie Starbucks customer believe him, the response would be the "I ain't reading all that" meme.

# ? May 26, 2023 13:08

QuickbreathFinisher: Sep 28, 2008; by reading this post you have agreed to form a gay socialist micronation.
`

oh great, more boat wanking from (I assume) Michael Grant :rolleyes:

# ? May 26, 2023 14:47

Zore: Sep 21, 2010; willfully illiterate, aggressively miserable sourpuss whose sole raison d�etre is to put other people down for liking the wrong things

I will say I think it takes a bit too long to really settle the full hook for Everworld which is probably part of the reason it floundered compared to Animorphs.

Like we're most of the way through the first book right now and we've only barely gotten into what's going on. Its set up as a sort of LOST style mystery box right now instead of the fairly straightforward setup Animorphs had.

Like we have no idea,

1) What Everworld is and its relationship to the real world
2) Why the protagonists are split into 2 copies who sync up when they sleep in Everworld
3) What is Senna's deal? She's a 'witch' that Loki wants but otherwise???
4) Why did she bring David, Jalil, Christopher and April with her? Did she do it deliberately or....? All of them (save Jalil) have some kind of personal connection to her we know already (David- Boyfriend, April - Half Sister, Christopher- Former Boyfriend)
5) Aliens???

Its complex and a lot of those pay off later but it can take a long time to even start getting answers.

# ? May 26, 2023 18:14

bird food bathtub: Aug 9, 2003; College Slice

That timing is what's bugging me so far. I assume at some point the two worlds will be tied together and have a point. Right now it's the main story interrupted by largely irrelevant trips in to a completely disconnected world that, even within itself, is entirely on autopilot and not actually *doing* anything related to what's going on.

# ? May 26, 2023 18:25

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

Zore posted:

I will say I think it takes a bit too long to really settle the full hook for Everworld which is probably part of the reason it floundered compared to Animorphs.

Like we're most of the way through the first book right now and we've only barely gotten into what's going on. Its set up as a sort of LOST style mystery box right now instead of the fairly straightforward setup Animorphs had.

Like we have no idea,

1) What Everworld is and its relationship to the real world
2) Why the protagonists are split into 2 copies who sync up when they sleep in Everworld
3) What is Senna's deal? She's a 'witch' that Loki wants but otherwise???
4) Why did she bring David, Jalil, Christopher and April with her? Did she do it deliberately or....? All of them (save Jalil) have some kind of personal connection to her we know already (David- Boyfriend, April - Half Sister, Christopher- Former Boyfriend)
5) Aliens???

Its complex and a lot of those pay off later but it can take a long time to even start getting answers.

This is pre-Lost, but yeah Michael Grant in particular was prone to that same style of Mystery Box storytelling that Lost popularized just a few years later, and again it's all over the Gone books too. Gone also takes a while to percolate in its mysteries and Lost is explicitly cited as an influence by Grant.

I also realize that I've posted more in this thread about Gone than I actually have about Everworld and that's partly due to the fact that I've been so focused on wrapping up Alternamorphs for the last month that I've been neglecting actually reading the chapters up to this point. But now that the Animorphs thread is finally dead I can focus on reading Everworld now.

I get in a way what Applegate and Grant are doing to with the sleep world jumping, they're trying to differentiate Everwold in some unique way from other secondary world fantasy series, but yeah it's too bad we haven't, at this point at least, gotten any real reason to care about why Everworld matters to the group's real world selves other than maybe if they die in Everworld, then they die on Earth too? I dunno, has that been fronted yet as a possibility?

# ? May 26, 2023 19:11

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

nine-gear crow posted:

Tll but yeah it's too bad we haven't, at this point at least, gotten any real reason to care about why Everworld matters to the group's real world selves other than maybe if they die in Everworld, then they die on Earth too? I dunno, has that been fronted yet as a possibility?

I get the impression that right now, Everworld is the "real world" for the protags. They spend time on earth when they go to sleep, but they don't have any real control about when they sleep or wake up or any idea where and when on Earth they wind up

.

# ? May 26, 2023 19:25

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

Epicurius posted:

I get the impression that right now, Everworld is the "real world" for the protags. They spend time on earth when they go to sleep, but they don't have any real control about when they sleep or wake up or any idea where and when on Earth they wind up

.

This is my thought too.

I keep thinking it's like Changeling: The Lost, where the set up is that your character was abuducted to Arcadia by the fae and a fetch was left behind in your place.

# ? May 26, 2023 21:15

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

Expect another chapter tomorrow.

# ? May 27, 2023 04:49

freebooter: Jul 7, 2009

nine-gear crow posted:

This is pre-Lost, but yeah Michael Grant in particular was prone to that same style of Mystery Box storytelling that Lost popularized just a few years later, and again it's all over the Gone books too. Gone also takes a while to percolate in its mysteries and Lost is explicitly cited as an influence by Grant.

I'm an irredeemable Lost fanboy, but I always personally liked the mystery aspect of Lost. And I'd say both Everworld and Lost thrust you into things basically straight away: no, the characters don't know what's going on and have to figure it out, but they're in immediate peril. Some people consider that to be harder to get into but I dunno, I like it!

I think Animorphs sets up its dynamic quicker, i.e. by the end of book 1 it's clear that what we have is a group of guerilla fighters with a superpower who have to fight off an alien invasion. Boom, that right there is your endlessly variable Saturday morning cartoon story-of-the-week generator. But I don't think Everworld is really any slower at being immediately compelling.

# ? May 27, 2023 05:47

Epicurius: Apr 10, 2010; College Slice

freebooter posted:

I think Animorphs sets up its dynamic quicker, i.e. by the end of book 1 it's clear that what we have is a group of guerilla fighters with a superpower who have to fight off an alien invasion. Boom, that right there is your endlessly variable Saturday morning cartoon story-of-the-week generator. But I don't think Everworld is really any slower at being immediately compelling.

We haven't gotten to the end of book one yet, but i can tell everyone it ends on a cliffhanger. Meanwhile. here's the plot of Animorphs book one.

Our protagonists learn that earth is under invasion from alien slugs that can take over your mind. They gain the abilities to turn into animals to fight them. Our narrator learns his brother is controlled by a slug and the team tries to rescue him. They fail, escaping with their lives, and the narrator swears to save him someday.

That's the plot of the book. (There's a section where they find animals to turn into that I left out). But it's a complete story. A problem is set up at the beginning (Tom's controlled by Yeerks), and our heroes try, this time unsuccessfully, to resolve it. And that's the story. While Animorphs is a 50 book collection of short stories arranged around a theme, Everworld is one story in 12 parts.

# ? May 27, 2023 17:25

Bilirubin: Feb 16, 2014; The sanctioned action is to CHUG

https://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?noseen=0&threadid=3911290&pagenumber=19&perpage=40#post532356773

# ? Jun 7, 2023 22:00

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

I hope you're shitposting in your afterlife of choice, Epi. Thank you for introducing me to animorphs.

# ? Jun 11, 2023 01:58

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# ? May 3, 2024 12:25

nine-gear crow: Aug 10, 2013

I doubt anyone wants to pick this up in Epicurius's stead, ala Midjack picking up the end of the Twilight Saga Let's Read from chitoryu12, but if they do feel like, just give me a shout and I can see about getting them the books like I did for Epicurius.

Otherwise :rip:

Everwold, I guess.

# ? Jun 12, 2023 07:27

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > Lets read Everworld-Show me the way to go home.

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