NationStates Jolt Archive

Mélanie Dupré: “Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon, and welcome to PINA (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/PINA) if you’re just joining us. I’m Mélanie Dupré (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/M%C3%A9lanie_Dupr%C3%A9), and with me here in the studio in Rêvane (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/R%C3%AAvane) are two very special guests for a very special interview. With me are President Dicey Reilly of Ardchoille, and Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich of Cluichstan.

A very warm welcome to you both. Now, we’re on air live, and you’re here for a special announcement, the specifics of which have been kept very much under wraps. Before you unveil the secret, may I ask. . . Why the secrecy? Or is that about to become obvious?”

"Well, Melanie ..." Dicey's mouth went dry and for a moment her voice squeaked, but she kept on. "In my case, the secrecy was necessary because in a few moments I plan to do something that is completely illegal in my country. I was prompted to this move by a conversation with Sheik Nadnerb, but I want to emphasise that it is my decision, I am not being coerced in any way, I will make no private gain by my action and I am doing it solely to prove that Ardchoilleans have a right to be proud of what we are."

She cast a pleading glance into the darkness behind the lights. There, she knew, the members of the Ardchoillean UN delegation waited with other members of the government. But only one was strong enough to stop her. And only one would care. She reached out mentally ...

<<Your choice, Dicey.>>

The voice was neutral. She felt the smoothness of a defensive shield slam into place over the contours of a familiar mind.

"I must also emphasise, Melanie, that I am doing this completely alone," she added, hoping that didn't sound as forlorn as it felt. "No other Ardchoillean citizen is involved in any way."

Dupré: "I see. All right, Madam President, that's noted, but I do need to emphasise that we can't allow you to do anything that would be illegal under Ariddian law. Also, this programme is being broadcast to many countries around the world, some of which have parental guidance legislation, so if what you're going to do may reasonably be considered PG, we need to know that too."

"Oh, no, Miss Dupré," interrupted Sheik Nadnerb, who was dressed in his finest ceremonial robes. "Rest assured that we will not be violating any Ariddian laws, nor will anything that transpires here today be in anyway unsuitable for broadcast."

The sheik ran his eyes luridly over the attractive journalist before continuing. "You see, Miss Dupré, last year, as I'm sure you know, I rather brutally dispatched my temporary replacement as UN ambassador (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11881792&postcount=48), Sheik Larebil bin Cluich, on the floor of the UN. Well, today I'd like to do what I can to make amends to my cousin for what I did to him -- at least, as much as I am able, since, you know, he's dead and all -- and Miss Reilly has graciously agreed to help me do so."

Dupré: "Yes, I think we all remember that... unfortunate... Yes. Now, people have been curious about what it is you both have in mind, Your Excellencies, so... I'll be quiet now and let you proceed. What exactly is this about?"

"Well," the sheik replied," since I've pretty much explained why we're doing this, I think it best to let Miss Reilly take it from here, as she's the expert in what we hope to accomplish here today."

Sheik Nadnerb turned to Dicey and smirked. "You're on, Miss Reilly. Take it away, babe."

"It's about performing magic in public -- from my point of view, anyway, though I know the Sheik sees it rather differently," Dicey said. "It's illegal in Ardchoille. It's so illegal that I've been condemned to the Presidency for life for doing it in little unobtrusive ways. Well, this time I'm going to do it in a big, obtrusive way. In front of the biggest audience I could find -- yours, Mélanie."

Dicey smiled at the interviewer; it wasn't flattery, she'd checked out PINA's audience stats.

"And I'm proud to be doing it, because I'm a witch, and this is what witches DO!"

She raised her hands above her head in the traditional invocation gesture, and every light in the studio went out.

Dicey held the pose for a few seconds; long enough for the studio audience to become aware that the only visible light was concentrated on herself. A glow was slowly rising, outlining her formal crimson robes in cold light that quickly built to an intensity that would allow clear transmission. The same heatless illumination rose around the Sheik and Mélanie Dupré.

"Good enough for the folks at home, lads?" she asked the cameramen -- no point in asking the producer, who was having what could have been a heart attack but was, she hoped, simply creative frenzy.

Another gesture, and a lone bagpipe moaned faintly as mist began to coalesce just behind the interviewer. Slowly the mist thickened into dripping blocks of stone flanking a wooden door centred beneath an arch carved in intricate spirals. With its black iron locks and hinges and scarred oak planking, the door was everything a magical door should be.

"Kitsch enough, would you say, Sheik?" said Dicey with a grin. She turned to the studio audience.

"Now, remember, nothing you see here will hurt you. It's real, but it won't hurt you. It doesn't matter whether you believe in it or not, it's going to happen anyway, but it won't hurt, okay?"

An other-worldly light began to seep around the edges of the door. Dicey, at a nod from the lighting tech, cut the intensity a fraction. She was pleased with that light; too much red and it might frighten people with one of those nasty fire-shrouded retribution myths, too much white and it would suggest she was intruding on The Lady's sacred precincts; but this was top-grade, yet unpresumptuous, Otherworldliness.

She had agonised over the next step. Tradition pointed to a staff hammered against the door, a thunderous summoning of a name; but, reasoned Dicey, how co-operative would I be if someone came banging on my door with a dirty great stick?

But, equally, "Hey, Cailleach, anyone in there with ya, Old Woman?" wouldn't cut the mustard, either. Decent magic demanded a bit of politeness. She held up an empty hand. A fully-wound spindle appeared in it.

"Behold the thread that was untimely severed!" she said, turning about so all parts of the studio could see. Obligingly she held it steady for a close-up. The audience could see on the monitors that the thread was stained red at the broken end.

"Let that which was done be undone!"

Dicey began unwinding the spindle. As it turned, the thread paid out and moved of its own accord to the door; not snaking across the carpet of the interview space, but looping gently in the air to, and through, the very centre of the door. As the last turn of thread pulled at the spindle, it snapped taut.

Dicey sniffed appreciatively. The scent of patchouli, not quite masking the smell of burning herbiage, filled the air. Older members of the audience breathed in automatically before they remembered that they'd told the kids they'd never inhaled. Definitely on target, the witch-President congratulated herself.

"I've got to get a bit technical here, Mélanie, so I hope everyone won't mind the old-fashioned language," she apologised. "I don't know why, but it reassures spirits if you speak to them in mock-Elizabethan English. That's a little tip that might help you, viewers, if you're ever trying this sort of thing at home. So, spirit, speak, I adjure thee. Art bound by a geas?"

"That I am," came a hollow reply.

"Wouldst fulfil thy geas?"

"That I would!"

"Then come forth, spirit!"

Nothing happened.

Dicey, with an impatient click of her tongue, moved behind Sheik Nadnerb and, placing the spindle in his hands, put hers over them and began rewinding it. "Put some effort into it, man!" she ordered. Sweat began to prickle her hairline as the thread tugged defiantly against the combined efforts of the pair. Frowning, she left the spindle to the Sheik.

"Something is keeping the spirit earth-bound," she explained. "There is some obligation he must meet or task he must do. But it seems to be a most unwelcome task, because he's resisting. Keep turning, Sheik Nadnerb."

Impatiently, camera following, she marched up to the door.

"I'm warning y-- I mean, have a care, spirit! An thou fulfillest not thy geas, abandoned wilt thou be for all eternity! Come forth, I conjure thee, come forth, come forth, come forth!"

Wisp by reluctant wisp, something white and formless fluttered through the closed door. The thread pulsed as the figure gained definition. For a moment, it floated at the end of the thread like a giant kite. Then, moaning softly, it solidified into a transparent but recognisable form.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you -- Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich!"
,

Dupré: (stares, blinks, then composes herself) "Sheik Larebil? Can you hear us?" (glances at President Reilly warily)

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Whoa...man! What a trip! I saw a bright light and started walking towards it, but then I got distracted by this shiny object. It was pretty. Never got to see where that light was coming from, though...

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: It's okay Cousin Larebil. You're back.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Yeah, but I feel kinda weird. Even weirder than that time I ate that lichen at the Happy Deceased concert.

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Yeah, well, that's because I killed you.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Whooooaaaa....why'd you do that?

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: I, uh...I must've gotten into your stash when I stopped by my office -- I mean, your office. I was seeing some weird stuff. I thought I, uh...saw a scorpion on your neck and was trying to save you by hitting it with my scimitar.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Oh, sweet, thanks, Cousin! But, uh...what about the troopers I remember seeing with you?

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Oh right...them. Well, you must've gotten into your stash, too.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Yeah, I'm sure I did, man. Well, all that explains why I can do this.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil thrusts his arm through his own abdomen and begins moving it to and fro.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Check it out, dude!

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Yes, Larebil, but I didn't have you brought back to play games with your incorporeal self. I had you brought back, because you've got some unfinished business, something you left behind that you need to find...

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Oh? Like what?

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Well, you don't want to go into the claws of the Great Cluich without a stash, do you? I mean, it's not like the Great Cluich has any of that sorta thing growing out of his exoskeleton...

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Oh, yeah...good point, man.

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: I can tell you where to find some good stuff to take with you, though...

Dupré: "I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but what exactly happens now? Sheik Nadnerb, you haven't brought back your cousin only for this, surely? Will Sheik Larebil be staying in, umm, this world now?"

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: [chuckling] No, no, of course not, Miss Dupré, not just for that. [smirk]

As for whether or not he'll be staying in this world, well, as Miss Reilly explained it to me, my late cousin here can only be bound to this world if he's got unfinished business to which he needs to attend before passing on to the next. Of course, Miss Reilly's the expert in these matters, so I'll leave the technical mumbo-jumbo -- I mean, explanation -- to her.

Dicey had been trying to detect any change in magical potential that would warn her of official reaction to her civil disobedience. But really, she told herself, they wouldn't do anything in public anyway -- they'd be breaking their own laws. Besides, they won't want to offend the Ariddians ... she had just reached this reassuring conclusion when the Sheik dumped the interview back in her lap.

"It's not technical at all, Mélanie," she assured the interviewer. "It's obvious that something must have been tying Sheik Larebil to his former life, otherwise I would never have been able to contact him. I'm a white witch. I don't disturb those who have, if you'll excuse the term, passed on."

She smiled, recognising how euphemistic the phrase was. "I know that sounds feeble, but it's actually very accurate, technically. Once a person leaves this plane, it's wrong to call them back, and I wouldn't do it. Larebil was still here, though. He was tied in some way, perhaps by something he had to do or find, some wrong he had to right -- I don't know. He's not being very forthcoming." She shrugged. "I have to admit, he was never exactly Mensa material -- he always worked and played far too well with others -- and it's very difficult to get any sense out of him."

A thought struck her: "Mélanie, you're a professional interviewer, perhaps you ...?"

Dupré: (eyes widen for a moment as she realises she's being asked to interview a ghost; turns to Larebil) "Sheik Larebil, can you hear me? Good. Now... Can you tell us how you're feeling at this moment? What's going through your mind?"

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Feelin' kinda...floaty. This death thing's a real trip. What's goin' through my mind? Nothing really, unless I do this.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich sticks his arm through his head.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: [laughing] Pretty cool, huh?

Dupré: (giggles briefly, then controls herself) "Yes. Yes, it is." (pauses) "Sheik, I should probably tell you, you're on live television. On PINA. May I ask, do you intend to stay here? In this, uh, 'world', I mean. Now that you're here."

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Oh, hell yeah! I'm not leavin' without my stash. Like my cousin said, the Great Cluich doesn't have anything. I'm gonna hafta bring my own. Once I find it, though, yeah, I can blow this popsicle stand.

Dupré: "Well, is there anything else you may like to do before you, umm, go back? It would seem a shame to leave again so quickly, surely.

While you are here, though, can you tell us about your experiences so far? Since you died, I mean."

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Well, yeah, there's definitely something I wanna do! I wanna find my stash, baby! I haven't gotten high since I died, and that was months ago! You know what it's like just floating around? No, of course you don't. It's like being really, really freakin' high, just not being able to touch anything -- which kinda sucks, y'know.

Dicey leaned forward. "Mélanie, if I might interrupt, spirits aren't usually able to tell us too much detail about what happened after they died. Some authorities say there's some kind of -- oh, I dunno, you might call it a filter -- between us and the Otherworld, and others insist that spirits can't describe it in terms we understand.

"Me, I think it's just because the sort of spirits who talk to the living are still so focused on our world they haven't actually died properly yet. Which is why I tried to find out what's keeping him here. I must say, you've had a lot more success with that than I did."

She frowned thoughtfully. "Larebil was in the General Assembly when he died. I wonder if he was planning to do something there? Make a speech, or something? That doesn't seem really important enough to keep him bound here, though ..."

She trailed off as she realised she'd just insulted an earthbound spirit. Well, she had, if Larebil had any vanity about how good his UN speeches were. This might be a smart time to shut up and hope Mélanie Dupré was as good as everyone said.

Dupré: (nods gratefully at President Reilly, then turns to Sheik Larebil) "So you've spent all this time just... floating around? What will happen, exactly, do you think, once you do find your 'stash'? And if you don't?'

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Oh, he'll find it allright, cuz I'm going to tell him where it is... [mischievous grin]

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Sweet! I knew I could count on you, Cousin!

Dupré: (glances warily at Sheik Nadnerb) "And once you do, Sheik Larebil? I'm sure we're all curious to know what exactly will happen after that."

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Well, I'll go to the Great Cluich, of course. Duh. But I'll have my stash with me.

Dupré: "And what exactly is the Great Cluich? Do you know whether you've been... prevented from going there without your 'stash', or is it simply that you didn't feel ready? I mean, would you have waited indefinitely if you hadn't been 'brought back'?"

Dupré: "And what exactly is the Great Cluich? Do you know whether you've been... prevented from going there without your 'stash', or is it simply that you didn't feel ready? I mean, would you have waited indefinitely if you hadn't been 'brought back'?"

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: What's the Great Cluich?!? The Great Cluich created the world! The Great Cluich created all life! And if the Great Cluich wasn't ready to accept me, He must've wanted me to come back to get my stash. Yeah, that must be it.

Dupré: "I see. Could you speculate as to why? Why would the Great Cluich want you to have it, do you think?"

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Well, because the Great Cluich cares for all of His children. He's gotta know I'd want it with me. Or...

Whoa...maybe He wants to get high with me!

Dupré: "Is that even possible for the Great Cluich? And would he have kept you away from... um, His presence for such a reason?"

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: We don't question the Great Cluich. If my cousin here wasn't accepted into His claws, there must be a reason. Of course, we can only guess as to His reason, but we have to try if Larebil is to find peace in the Great Cluich's claws.

Dupré: "I see. And if you had to guess, Sheik Nadnerb, do you think your cousin's hypothesis is plausible?"

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Why not? Certainly makes sense to me. Like Larebil said, the Great Cluich cares for all of His children. Why would He not want my cousin to be happy in his afterlife? [impish smirk] I'll just help Larebil find his stash, and he can be on his way. I'm willing to do anything to make sure that my cousin is content in the claws of the Great Cluich, rather than spending an eternity floating in the ether.

Dupré: "Out of curiosity, why the 'claws' of the Great Cluich? In other cultures, that would have negative connotations."

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: According to the religion of our people, the Great Cluich was a giant crab. That is why the steamed crab is our national animal. We eat steamed crabs at least once a week in order to be one with the Great Cluich. You see, the crabs that we eat are an extension of the Great Cluich, much like how Catholics consume the body of Christ for Communion. The Great Cluich, when we pass from this life accepts us into His loving claws. He is even depicted on the flag of Cluichstan (http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/cluichstan.jpg).

Dupré: "I see; that's very interesting. You say the Great Cluich was a giant crab. Was he living on Earth, in corporeal form, at one time?"

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: I misspoke, I'm afraid. The Great Cluich is a giant crab. He resides on another plane, but His claws extend into ours. There was no Earth before the Great Cluich. He created it.

Dupré: "Very interesting indeed. Well, this brings us back to you, Sheik Larebil. What will you do if access to your stash turns out not to be what you need in order to join the Great Cluich?"

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Hmmm...hadn't really thought about that. [pensive pause] I'll probably think a lot better once I get my hands on my stash, though. I always get great ideas when I'm high, like the time I invented the soup sandwich. Oh yeah, that was bloody brilliant!

Dicey snorted inelegantly. She was trying vainly to remember why she'd been so very shocked when Sheik Nadnerb beheaded his cousin in the General Assembly. In retrospect, after only a few short moments in Larebil's revivified company, the action was beginning to seem both timely and justified.

But if the muzzy-headed one was so eager to get his hands on his stash, why had he been such a pain to bring back? She hunted for suitably idiotic reasons. Obviously he was too dumb to be scared of his cousin, so not that ... stagefright, perhaps?

It wasn't worth worrying about, really. At least she'd done both the things she'd set out to do: hauled Larebil back and made the grand gesture to the folks at home. Fixing an "I am taking an intelligent interest in this exchange" expression on her face, Dicey gave herself up to worried calculations. Full moon was close; if the Oldest Coven held solid, she had problems.

Dupré (smiles, and turns to Reilly): "Madam President, what would your expert view be? Is Sheik Larebil's interpretation a plausible one?"

"Ah! Well ... I ..." Dammit, what was the woman referring to? Dicey scrabbled to remember as much as she could of the past few minutes.

"Uh ... if we're referring to Sheik Larebil's theory about why he's come back, well, I suppose it has to be accurate, because he's the only one who knows the answer. If we're talking about his theology, well, I can only say that's not my area of expertise; I'm a practising, down-to-earth, realistic witch, not a theorist.

Eyeing Sheik Larebil with growing annoyance, she added, "But I would like to know why the Sheik struggled so hard not to come back. For a while there, anyway. I mean, if his return to pick up his stash is the will of the Great Cluich,then why resist it? Or does the Great Cluich want him to do something else -- something he doesn't want to do?"

She hadn't missed that impish smirk from Sheik Nadreb, either. Turning to him, she pointed out, "I believe you said earlier something along the lines of, 'I can tell you where to find some good stuff to take with you, though.' So, if you can tell him, Sheik, why don't you just send someone to pick it up right now? Then we can give it to Sheik Larebil and see if he instantly journeys on into the, er, claws of the Great Cluich."

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: My dear Ms. Reilly, you were the one who explained to me that my cousin could only be brought back if there were something he needed to do. Clearly, he must find his stash himself. We can cut some corners, I'm sure, but just handing it to him, patting him on the bum and sending him on his way? It can't be that simple. I'll tell him where he can find it -- only generally, of course, cuz we can't cut too many corners -- and then his quest can begin.

Dupré: "Is it so important that there be a 'quest'? I mean, what would happen if you were to give him his 'stash' right now?"

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Where's the fun in that?!?

Dupré: "Well, leaving aside the issue of 'fun' for a moment... Do you believe Sheik Larebil could reach the Great Cluich immediately if given his stash right now?" (pauses) "Or was the sheik summoned to provide entertainment, Sheik Nadnerb?"

"Oh, surely nobody would be so cruel," Dicey exclaimed. "I mean, I summoned Sheik Larebil in an effort to help him, but he's scarcely great entertainment val--"

She stopped dead, then tried again. "Er, that is, watching Sheik Larebil suffer as he must be doing, denied the rest he must crave, eking out existence as a helpless ghost -- what kind of person would find that entertaining?"

I must not make a list. I must not make a list. I am all too likely to spill it. I must not make a list ...

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: No, not just for entertainment -- certainly not. He is my cousin, y'know. We're family.

Spirit-Sheik Larebil bin Cluich: Yeah, I mean, I know Nadnerb cut my head off and all, but he's still my cousin and a damn good guy. In fact, if I have time between finding my stash and going into the claws of the Great Cluich, I'd really like to get high with him.

Sheik Nadnerb bin Cluich: Uh...yeah...

Dupré: (trying not to smile) "That sounds like a very nice idea. But, Sheik Nadnerb, you haven't answered the first part of my question. If you were to give your cousin his stash right now, what do you think would happen?"

{OOC: Bump}

The cameras had honed in so closely on the little terrier of an interviewer and her prey that Dicey felt herself free to do a bit of housekeeping. Quickly her hands began to move in odd patterns -- at times liooking as if she was rolling up a ball of wool, at others seeming to knead a huge but invisible ball of dough.

She had protected the studio during the raising of Larebil, but it was obvious the precaution was no longer needed. No unfriendly entities had bothered to accompany the Sheik back. Dicey could understand that. There had to be easier ways of wreaking havoc than enduring Larebil's company unnecessarily.

The final step was hard, though. Not only had she guarded against the spirits; she had also warded herself against her own government. If the Oldest Coven had tried to stop her, they would have had to batter down her protective dome. But the deed was done now, and she had to face them some time. Bowing unobtrusively to each of the four quarters, she began to break the circle.

Only to encounter another circle enclosing hers. Warmth flooded through her. <<Bast! You were looking after me after all!>>

<<I have to. You're the President.>>

It was a dry rejoinder, but Dicey knew her companion of old. If he thought she was in the wrong, his rigid Cat sense of justice would have made him support the Old Coven regardless of his long friendship with her. But he was letting her play out the drama -- not necessarily on side, but at least neutral. She felt her shoulders and neck muscles relax; she hadn't realised how nervous she'd been.

<<You can take it down now. I'm ready for them. Let's see what they do,>> she said, turning back to the face-off between Sheik Nadnerb and his pursuer.

Funny how for them nothing seemed to have changed, yet, for her, so much had.