Okay, I mentioned that I would have to run off tonight for harum-scarum stuff at home instead of more story.
Well, I said it in a comment buried in the clutter amidst my posts of several chunks of story initially provoked by the fic-writing blog, . That turns out to involve loving reptiles in a rather different manner, but I didn’t know that until I stumbled pretty deep into it.
We drove for about an hour, and I got the chance to talk about aspects of the story, telling my mom (a truly old skool sf & f fan) some fun bits and pieces about the bjd-fic story.
Then we met up with one of my sisters, who has brought along our other sister’s twins. The nephews are seven. They’re the sort who have plastic velociraptors and stegosaurs in the tub whenever I visit (of course!). So, we hand over things my sister needs, and in turn the nephews kindly loan me a rubber snake which may appear in photoshoots anon.
I swear to them absolutely I will return it safely to them.
We did much dining. I had interesting conversations with a couple of guys who don’t have their front teeth just now.
I’m innocently talking to the nephew who’s SRSLY into reptiles and dinosaurs and computer games. He’s serious enough to collect bits of leather from various reptiles, and informs me soberly that diamondbacks are endangered now and it is illegal to own or sell any kind of rattlesnake leather in the state of California. (His wording. Trust me.)
So we talk about what he wants to do with scrap pieces of leather he’s been collecting. He has a largish scrap piece of cowhide that he thought he could make something with.
He has other interesting leathers, like lizard, too. He confides that he thinks some of them might be artificially dyed, and makes a face.
He says he wants to make the big piece into a helmet, and ask his mom to make him a Halloween costume to go with it. He says he thought about being a devil, but that would be boring.
Then he thought of a really good one, he says.
He really wanted his mom to make his costume as a Naga Queen for Halloween.
Quite calmly, he says, “You know, the one with all the arms and the snake body.”
I ask him to repeat what he said, as I am caught totally by surprise, somewhere between choking and stupified. I start laughing. Mom too is quaking with laughter.
Believe me, I had not brought up anything of the sort with him, ever.
He just up and walloped us between the eyes with it. He says he really wanted to do that for Halloween.
His other aunt, the seamstress, intervenes and says that might be a bit too difficult for his mom to make in the short time until this Halloween, given that she’s just now recovering enough to get off her crutches. She says they might be able to do it another year.
He asks us why I’m laughing so much. She explains that I had a character named Naga, way back (and goes into how many embarrassing years ago it was written), and various details.
He frowns. “But that’s not a very good name for a character, is it? I mean, there’s lots of naga types, it’s a whole race, right? Not just one. That’s just like calling someone Dog.”
Patiently, she goes on to explain that’s just the person’s first name, he had other names built up on that, and she gives the translation, “Beautiful Gold Dance of Knives.”
I’m just quaking in place, spluttering, really not handling any of this.
He agrees that’s a little better. But just Naga by itself, you might as well go around calling your pets Cat, or Dog, or something.
My sister assures him that it was a cool name at the time, when not so many people knew things about creatures like that.
So as I ask him questions, he informs me all about how you handle a Naga Queen in the game, and what it sounds like, and its powers. All six hands are armed with sharp knives.
Oh yeah.
Be afraid.
The other guy’s just as bright.
And they’re seven.
SO on the way home, I’m explaining to my mom bits she couldn’t hear. When I say, “The queen has six arms, it’s armed with knives, it’s kind of an edged weapons monster,” what she hears over the road noises is that it’s a “hedge monster.”
“How can you arm something with a hedge?” she asks, puzzled.
I laugh, and say, “Oh no, that’s the druids!” and start cracking up. “You better watch out, I’m armed with a hedge and I’m not afraid to use it!”
And she cracks up, saying, “You watch out, I’ll grow my hedge at you!”
To which the only possible reply is, of course, “Oh noooo, not the hedge! Noooo–”
Followed by the eponymous, “How to De-FEND Yourself AGainst a man ARMED with a HEDGE…”
Oh yes. Almost forgot. It’s not even a full moon. Yet.