Monday, August 09, 2010

TEST!

This is a test of the RSS System, If this were an actual post, I would have something interesting to say. 



-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-

Wednesday, August 04, 2010

New URL

Attention!  This is important. 
 The Blog has changed its url to http://stcroiss.blogspot.com/
This should show up in your RSS feeds, but I'll leave a burner blog at the old address for those lost souls. 


-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #63: Fierté Patriotique


A couple of Weeks ago, as you recall…
-=-

This Was the big day, they one they had all been waiting for.
The Little explosive awaited eagerly in the little wooden box, awaiting some excitement. 
  Finally.
Up till now The Little Explosives short life had been increasingly dull, one tedium after another.
Today promised excitement, today was the day.  Every other explosive in the box was envious of The Little Explosive's luck, hand-picked for a special mission.  
  A flight in an æroplane!  
The Little Explosive was flung, not unkindly, off the starboard bow of the æroplane.
  A chance for ærobatic manœvering!

-=fig. 394: the little explosive finds its purpose=-
A chance gust of sympathetic wind helped The Little Explosive in it's final maœvering.
  My, the Ground is getting close…I wonder if I have a parachute…
By the time The Little Explosive realized what was happening, it was much too late.

-=-

The Explosion rocked the capitol building, it not only rocked it but exploded several parts of it as well.  
  This would not have been much of a problem if The Illustrious Captain James Brown, mayor of Legopolis, had not been on the roof at that exact moment.
  Dr. Zachary Smith was also there, along with the majority of the L.C.R.P.D, {Legopolis City Rooftop Police Department} and assorted members of the Legopolis City Border patrol.

-=-

Dr. Smith woke in a room on fire.   These looked to be the mayoral chambers, you could tell by the ornate woodwork.   In fact, the whole room seemed to be made of wood, which in retrospect may not have been the best of ideas.  The last thing Dr. Smith remembered before waking up here was being on the roof, enjoying the scenery.
  It occurred to Dr. Smith that they might have been the subjects of a bombing.
  Over the roar of burning timber, Dr. Smith could hear two distinct cries for help, the deep, basso voce "HELP!" of Capt. Brown, and the higher-pitched, mezzo-soprano "HEEELP!"  Of Teresa Phillips.  Dr. Smith decided to help Teresa first, because if Capt. Brown was calling for help it would require at least two people to get him out.
 She was trapped under an unburnt log.
  "Hello.  Is the log crushing you?"  Dr. Smith asked, with as much worry as he could muster.
    "No, just pinning me down.  What happened?"
     "We were bombed.  I'll lift and you get out from under it.  On 3."
Dr. Smith lifted, and Teresa wriggled out.

-=fig. 394: the mayoral chambers=-
Dr. Smith called out for Capt. Brown "JAMES!  WHERE ARE YOU?"  There was a faint scrabbling, a crash, and a much more distinct "HELP!"  From Capt. Brown,  and now that Dr. Smith was paying attention, he could tell where it was coming from.   "Ms. Phillips, Get down."   Teresa, wondering why, carefully laid down on the sooty floor.  Dr. Smith picked up a hefty-looking chunk of wood and threw it forcefully at the window in the corner,  he then flung himself to the ground and narrowly missed the fireball that was caused by the sudden influx of flammable air.
 The room was now burning faster, and they needed to escape.
 Dr. Smith led Teresa to the newly-opened window, and he leaned out.

-=fig. 395: just hanging=-

  "Hi James!"  Dr. Smith yelled amiably to the dangling brown figure,
  "ZACHARY!"  Capt. Brown didn't yell this with the mellifluous tone reserved for old friends, but instead with the urgent tone of a man dangling three stories above concrete tile.   "Alright Zachary, I need you to get me down, Zachary, got it Zachary?"
 Something occurred to Dr. Smith,
"You know, you're using my name an awful lot, James."
"Because It's very important that you listen to me , Zachary.  Buddy."
"Don't worry James, I'll get you down."  Dr. Smith thought for a second,  "You know James, I really don't know how to get you down.  But don't panic.  James, you're captain of the rooftop police, Don't you have…Procedures for this?"
  "The Building's on fire, I can't get in through any of the windows and my hand hold is slippery due…to birds.  So NO!"  Capt. Brown seemed to be getting angry, so Dr. Smith ducked back inside.  Teresa reminded him that their table was the only thing not on fire.
  Dr. Smith ducked back outside.   "You just Keep…'Hanging In There', James."  Dr. Smith chuckled privately at his weak pun.   "Ms. Phillips, Would you care to join me on the balcony?"
-=fig. 396: the balcony=-
 "This isn't a good idea."  Teresa said as the half-table wobbled.
 "Would you rather we got roasted in a wooden wood-fire oven?" Dr. Smith snapped, he didn't like having holes poked in his plans.  "Now James, just find a handhold and lower yourself down, Teresa will…try to catch you if you fall. 
 "There are no handholds, Zachary.  I designed the building like this on purpose, to protect me from assassination.  'Dangerous to climb down, Impossible to climb up.' That was my motto, back when I had a real job." If was then that the increasingly slippery ornamental statuette 'gave up the ghost.'
   Capt. Brown fell, but as he fell he managed to hit Teresa, and the combined weight of both of them shot Dr. Smith up in the air, for he was the only counter-weight at the other side of this see-saw,  not by design but by the fact that he hadn't found any unburnt wood to counter-balance the situation.   It turns out there wasn't much air to be shot into, and Dr. Smith smacked into the ceiling.
  Teresa and Capt. Brown had quite suddenly found them selves falling to the tile below.
  Dr. Smith smacking into the ceiling had weakened the structure past where it could sustain itself, and the upper floor came crashing into the floor where Dr. Smith was sitting.  Dr. Smith saw this happening, and did the only thing he could:

-=fig. 397: jump=-





-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Sunday, August 01, 2010

Watch this space!





-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Friday, July 23, 2010

Thorough Linking

I Have just finished linking together the entire Continuing Adventures Story, to each other and to this fancy new webpage:  http://STCroiss.blogspot.com/p/zachary-smith.html
To progress through the story click #1, {or wherever you left off} and at the bottom of the story there should be a link, or in the newer ones a picture like this: 


Click it and it will instantaneously take you to the CWA advertised.



-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

New Title Card

This is a test of our new Title card Design,


Look for it in a Weekly Adventure, coming soon!


-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 -=-

Thursday, July 22, 2010

New Blog Theme

The Blog has changed themes, once again, hopefully to a size smaller screens can handle, with no custom fonts or sidebars, just the blog.
Hope you like it.


-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Sorry

No Weekly adventure this week, my camera was dropped 12 inches onto a wood floor, and now it won't turn on.


-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Monday, July 12, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #62: Defensive Manœuvers



Last Week as You Recall…
 The Frenchman's dirty foreign fingers closed around the radio, which was lying on the table, behind the teapot. 
  Right were he had left it.
    The Frenchman collapsed further, taking the radio with him to the floor.  He lay on the grime-encrusted floor, not caring what is was that he was lying in.  His mind was more preoccupied by the shooting pains in his head where the Legopolian had hit him with a pipe, and the gentler, throbbing, pains in the back of his knees where the Legopolian had kicked him.  He remembered spitting something from the posters at them, which on reflection may not have been the best idea.
  This was not turning out to be the kind of life the posters had advertised.
   He pulled himself, painfully, into a sitting position, he was sitting in a corner of The Undercity, a maze of pipes and tunnels that made up the majority of Legopolis' sewage, heating and air needs.   He had carved out this little corner of it months ago, and it provided him with all the necessities.  It also was the perfect spot to spy on the mayor of Legopolis, the illustrious Captain James Brown, and divine the best time for the french to strike!  Crushing these dirty foreigners with the swift hand of Democracy!
 At least that's what the posters said.  There was a lot of propaganda about Democracy, and about how the Legopolians, being subjects of a tyranny, were things to be rescued! And pitied! And shown the way of Democracy!
 The Frenchman remembered his duty to his fellow officers, and radioed them about the mad Legopolian, and his girlfriend, who was named something foreign, like 'terrace'.
  His team filled him in on their encounter with the piratical Legopolian in black, who had somehow rescued the Captain, and had disappeared up some vent.
  The Frenchman cursed, and ordered his team to give chase.
-=-
-=fig. 392: gun battle on the ladders=-

The mad Frenchman, screaming like a banshee, obviously seized by madness and patriotic pride, ran up the ladder of the tiny passage, Louis tried not to hurt the man too badly, despite the heavy gunfire the man was exuding, most of it aimed at Louis himself, but it's so hard to control these things, in the heat of battle, and the mad Frenchman fell dead over the railings and
  Down,
  Down,
  Down.
 Louis didn't have time to reflect on this, and the horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he himself was killed moments later by the second Frenchman.  The one right behind the mad one.   Dr. Smith, who had somehow fallen to the rear of their little group,  heard the wet sound of the impact, but it was too late.  Louis had fallen, like the mad Frenchman before him, to his further death over the thin railings of the ladders.   Capt. Brown, who was just ahead of Dr. Smith, pushed open a hatch in the ceiling, and pulled Dr. Smith up after him.  They came out into the sunlight, for the first time in what felt like days but what {in all likelihood} had only been hours.  They were on the roof of the Capitol building, a fine piece of James-era architecture.
 Birds were singing, the sun was shining and from their vantage point above the city they could see the valiant Legopolian troops fighting off the vile French invaders,
  And for the most part failing.
   There was a plane flying overhead.
-=fig. 393: the dynamite stick of democracy=-

According to the radio reports this was the 'Capitol' building, seat of the vile tyranny that plagued this tiny nation.   The Frenchman lit the dynamite stick of democracy, and dropped it through the clouds to the highly architecturally significant building below.  




-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 61: The Undercity



Last week as you recall…
  Water dripped from somewhere.
   Drip.
   Drip.
   No one comes to this portion of the city anymore, not if they can help it.
Thousands of pipes, some functioning some not, hung at head height, just waiting for the next careless blunderer.  Legopolis, {the city above,} like most cities is mainly built on itself.
  But unlike most cities Legopolis is built on a plateau high above a desert, and the forgotten alleys and lost sewage systems are exposed on all four sides.
   A security flaw the french were only too happy to employ.

-=-
Dr. Smiths head smacked into another pipe. 
 This one wasn't marked, but he could guess by the smell its application. 
   "Are you sure my charges will be safe?" asked, Teresa, recently rescued schoolteacher.
   "Don't worry.  Jeeves' hands are cold and robotic but thoroughly capable of handling forty-odd children."  Dr. Smith was beginning to get the hang of this 'talking to women' thing.  It was just like talking to regular people, but with the underlying threat of being murdered for a misconstrued tense.
"…shkz… Nous avons les idiots qui suivent le fou brun casquette dans le manteau coincé dans un garage. Au cours. …brzt."
Dr. Smith made a 'be silent' motion with his finger and his lips, and they faded into the shadows.

-=fig. 389: cleverly hidden=-

A man in black was holding a radio.
  It was not the kind which you could get Tchaikovsky on, but more of the hand-held communication sort.
  He had ensconced himself thoroughly into the belly of the city. Light was provided by a grille in the ceiling, tea by a teapot and a tap in the waterline. 

-=fig. 390: nefarious planning=-

He looked to be planning something nefarious, judging by his map and gun. 
He spoke into his radio:
"Droit. Tuer les idiots étrangers.  Laissez aucun survivant.  Au cours."
  Teresa gasped. 
   Dr. Smith looked at her, "What?"  He whispered.  They sneaked out of earshot of the Frenchman, and she told him.   
  "They're talking about Capt. Brown!" 
    "How can you tell?" 
      "Well, they're using code names, but 'the brown hatted fool in the coat?' Who else could that be?" 
         "What was the rest of it?" 
            " 'Right, kill the stupid foreigners.  Leave no survivors.' Don't you speak french?" 
     Dr. Smith chose not to answer.  He did not, in fact, speak french. It was a flaw, but he had never gone to school. 
There was an intermittent blast of steam escaping from a vent around knee height.  This made conversation difficult, because it's hard to squirm in pain and talk, but Dr. Smith had a plan.  
-=-
The man in black pored over the map. 
  His task was interrupted by the clouds of steam obscuring his vision.  
 His spine stiffened when he felt the thin metal presence at his Adams Apple. 
 "Hi there."  Said Dr. smith as the steam cleared, and pressed the knife threateningly closer to the man's neck. 
"Qui êtes-vous? Que faites-vous ici!"
   Dr. Smith looked to Teresa, Who was standing just off screen, she knew this signal.  "Tell him we won't hurt him, we just need him to call off his forces."  
Teresa nodded and translated: "The madman will kill you instantly unless you call off your troops."   The Frenchman quivered.  "Never! My life will end before I surrender.  For king, for country!"   
 "What'd he say?" Asked Dr. Smith. 
  "We have a patriot on our hands." Replied Teresa.
During all this conversation the Frenchman's hand had been sidling across the table, and now his fingers closed around the handle of his gun.  It was a small thing, easily concealable, but concealing it was not what this Frenchman had in mind.
-=-
The French forces moved closer. 
  The one who looked to be in charge received an order in french over his radio, 
The French forces charged.  There were quite a few of them, actually.  Certainly more than the few measly troops of the Legopolian army, who were trapped in the garage. 
Suddenly, gunfire from above.
-=fig. 391: the honourable brigadier=-
Brigadier Black laughed that guttural laugh of his and strafed the French once more from his position above the action.
  The French retreated.
   He removed the grate which separated him from the fight, and swung down.  "Why hello thar Cap'n. Be you needin' some help?"
 "Actually Brigadier, what we need is an escape." Said Capt. Brown, the rest of the measly troops agreed. 
 "Right then Cap'n, Here's me rope. Cap'ns first."
Capt. Brown went up the rope first, followed by the rest of the measly troops.   The French showed their heads once more, and Brigadier Black shot at them in a halfhearted way, just to keep their heads down.   Once the troops were safely in the higher-up passageway, Capt. Brown turned to Brigadier Black.  "Thank you Brigadier, that was a daring rescue.  You'll receive commendations for this."
 "Thank ya Sir, I'll add 'em to me others."
-=-

"Now, let's not do anything…hasty." Said Teresa to the Frenchman, but he continued to point the gun at her.
 "I'm prepared to die for my country, but by Jacques I'll take as many Legopolians with me as I can.
"What'd he say!"  Dr. Smith was getting worried now.  Teresa translated.   " I thought you told him we weren't going to kill him."
 "Some things get lost in translation, for example, the words for 'idiot' and 'foreigner' sound almost identical–"
   "Tell him I'm disappointed." 
Teresa was halfway through this translation when Dr. Smith kicked the Frenchman in the back of the knee, which, as anyone who has been kicked in the back of the knees will tell you, hurts like the devil.
The Frenchman collapsed.
 The poor man had hit his head on a lead pipe.
  Dr. Smith threw the lead pipe as far as he could, then removed the gun from the Frenchman's fingers.  He also removed the map from the Frenchman's makeshift table, and disappeared into the maze that is the Undercity.
 Teresa followed.
The Frenchman stirred…





-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-
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