InterNutter

Challenge #01030-B298: Non Sequiturs of Doom

I have no idea what that means, but it cannot /possibly/ mean anything good. -- RecklessPrudence

Rael almost congratulated himself. The first Ambassadorial Meet for Shayde was going well. Like the man falling from a building in that ancient joke, it was rather a case of so far, so good.

She had made it as far as lunch on the first day without causing a fracas.

"I tole ye. I'm no' fer sale and I'm past my amuse-by date," carried over the general murmur.

He had no idea what that was meant to mean, but it could not be good. Rael tried to make his way through the crowds between himself and Ambassador Shayde.

"You're funny," said... O Powers no... One of the delegates from one of the far-too-many, surviving, Greater Deregulations. "I could do an exotic like you a world of good."

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap... He'd heard about her inoculations of sexism thanks to Hackmeyer. And her resultant hatred of any sign of it. And the Deregulations were one of the few civilisations that still practised it.

"Oh, so yer plannin' tae fook off, then? Goodbye."

"You say goodbye and I say hello..." the delegate caterwauled. It wasn't even recognisable as a tune.

"Listen, pal. I met Paul McCartney, and nobody could hope tae sing it better except the fookain Consortium; and since yer neither, how about ye don't even try."

"I don't listen to wimmin, I buy them. Who owns you? What's your ticket?"

Rael struggled through the gathering throng just enough to see Shayde's eyes glowing red as she cracked her knuckles.

"Can yer mother sew, pal?"

Rael didn't understand what that could mean, either, but he could almost see gathering storm clouds of doom.

"What's a mother?" said the confused representative of -yes- Greater Deregulation South by Southwest. One of the worst offenders who had to be told, repeatedly and on a case-by-case basis, that women were not up for grabs, sales, or 'test drives'. And -yes- he was also absent-mindedly helping himself to a handful of Shayde's rump.

Rael pinged Security.

Shayde sucker-punched the delegate. "Get 'er tae stitch that!"

The Consortium of Steam held up score cards. They also had very little tolerance for the Deregulations.

Shayde wasn't finished. Her hair fluffed outwards in the now-familiar signifier of her doing magic. Sparks coruscated around her and red light leaked in lightning from her eyes.

The delegate for Greater Deregulation South by Southwest wet himself, earning cheers and applause from everyone he had offended. Which was quite a vocal crowd.

"May you be one minute late at the worst possible time," intoned Shayde.

"...whut?" blurted the delegate.

Security escorted both of them away. Him for unwanted advances and refusal to accept 'no' as an answer, and her for assault. Her sentence would be lessened because of self-defence.

He could hear the Consortium plotting to send her a cake. It quickly devolved into differing meanings for the word 'file'.

Rael must never be that far away from her again.

(Muse food remaining: 16. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)

::white noise::

Didn't get a lot of sleep, because last night was a rare night out. Kind friends had given Beloved a movie voucher.

FYI, The Mockingjay Part 2 is firkin awesome. Well done, movie peeps, for sticking to the book.

BUT going to see it also meant that I didn't get to bed much before 11PM.

My thoughts are full of static. I want to go back to sleep for a majority of the day. BUT, I also have 1K of words to

Challenge #01029-B297: One Post-Adventure Evening in a Village Tavern

Creating a volcano is the most important part of a stealth mission, I guess. -- RecklessPrudence

All eyes slowly turned towards the Rogue at the table.

"What volcano?" said the Knight.

The Rogue grinned. "Damn, I'm good..."

The Mage sighed into their tankard. "They're calling it Mount Wat," they said. "It's where the evil dungeon used to be. Some people take the words, 'purge it with fire' entirely too literally."

The Rogue cackled. "You did say it was to save the world.

Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbh...

Pretty much how I'm feeling this morning. The sound of a sigh coming out between lax and flappy lips.

We probably have just enough to make it to the next payday. IF the kids' Friday treat comes out of the Penny Pincher Menu so I can afford the tank of petrol for the running around we're doing on the weekend.

Beloved is Forty, as of yesterday. Merry birth, Beloved. I wish I could do more for you.

Still need to get eggs

Challenge #01028-B296: Explaining History

Advantage number one of having crammed our development of spacecraft into only ten years: "Holy shit we know how to mass produce so many liquid explosives that we can get to be stable for just long enough, you have no idea." -- RecklessPrudence

It's said that anything interesting enough to propel a spacecraft for long distances in a relatively short time is also interesting enough to be a weapon. And it's usually said by humans, who tended to develop the weapons first

It's been so long since I went to Hell...

My frelling sleep issues have been acting up. Hello, anxiety. It's been a while since you fucked up my life. Come on in, we're having coffee.

...you little shit...

In brief: woke up at 2AM-ish because I went to bed at 8:30 because I was dog tired because worry.

2AM-ish meant that I would be dog tired AGAIN in the afternoon and I don't need that because I have a firkin physical for insurance's sake, so I did my best to

Challenge #01027-B295: One Terrifying Adventure in a Hidden Bunker

Person #1: Was this place built on an old well, or a burial ground or something?

Person #2: No [Person #1], weren't you paying attention? This whole mess is the result of somebody bringing Nazi Magitech back from WW2 Germany instead of burninating it like any sane person would. -- RecklessPrudence

"Ooooh," cooed Kevin. "So that's why everything is all over swastikas and lightning bolts, right?"

"Eeeh," Allie shrugged. "Sort of. My research indicates that the artefact kind'a possessed the interior decorator

101 reasons to love Steam Powered Giraffe

Before you roll your eyes at me, this is not going to be an enumerated list. You can breathe, now. It's okay.

One Hundred and One is the number of times that I have listened through the Giraffe's most recent album, The Vice Quadrant: A Space Opera. Or just Vice Quadrant for short.

That's two hundred and two hours of music that I have yet to become sick of. Not one song, not one spoken interlude, not one fragment of this double

Challenge #01026-B294: Before She Met Hwell

Person #1: They just have to deal with it. Life isn't fair.

Person #2 (softly, sadly): No, it isn't. But that doesn't mean we should be making it less so. -- RecklessPrudence

[AN: Wholeheartedly agreed]

Two guards watched the product file from the conditioning yards and into the truck. Ready for processing. The newbie stared with an open mouth.

"Hey, if you want one, you could snag it after the buyers have picked the best ones. Bawdy factory don't mind."

"Just... take

Herbing 'till I plotz...

I promised a photojournal entry, and you're about to get a photojournal entry.

We start with a simple, neglected herb garden:

Pictured, smol child, large rosemary Chaos is looking nervous because there was a wasp on the other side.

Chaos showing off a washing basket full of cut herbs We got a basket full of cuttings. most of them were actually useful.

This is just the LEFTOVER rosemary The leftovers. Some sprigs are bundled with the hope of making decent potential tea.

Finished Rosemary oil. It will be going out in much smaller bottles Heat-infused rosemary oil looks gross when its done, and in bulk.

Mint still being processed I had a freaking LOT of mint. So much that

Challenge #01025-B293: One Near-Apocalyptic Afternoon in Bloomington, Illinois

The speech known as Abraham Lincoln's "Lost Speech" was given at the Bloomington Convention on May 29, 1856, in Bloomington, Illinois.

The traditional reason given for the lack of any written recollection of the Lost Speech is that Lincoln's skilled and powerful oration had mesmerized every person in attendance. Reporters were said to have laid down their pencils and neglected note taking, as if hypnotized by Lincoln's words. When the speech ended no notes existed, so media reports of the day simply

Post-massacre update

I have successfully mutilated the Rosemary bush and decimated the mint population The house and my hands are redolent with the scent of both.

I tried enlisting some child labour to speed up the process, but Mayhem begged off early [feeling useless and then feeling sick] and Chaos got bored of picking mint leaves.

I have a sink full of unpicked mint, soaking in water and lemon juice to stop them browning whilst I take a well-earned break. And about a double-handful

Challenge #01024-B292: Don't Let Them Breed

Sara Louise meets Sherlock (the Benedict Cumberach one). they both get bored easily with trouble ensuing. -- Anon Guest

Watson should have known they were in trouble when the suspected alien had vanished from a locked room without a trace. Scotland yard usually handed off such cases to a special military unit, but they were off on a completely different crisis.

Sherlock looked around the room, including the floor and the ceiling. Everything seemed undisturbed. Not to Sherlock's sharp eyes. He touched

Where has all the money gone?

I discussed money issues with Beloved in the evening. As it turns out, most of the expenses were directly related to bills and paying off debts.

We're relatively debt free, right now. But we're also money poor.

And Christmas is going to be hellishly expensive, even with my frugality in the balance. For example: Beloved suggested using actual sealing wax for the gift basket stuff. Two of the lovely bottle types have corks, and they're going to need a functional seal.

I

Challenge #01023-B291: No Such Thing as Normal

This poem: http://bonehandledknife.tumblr.com/post/130524095600/if-you-are-a-monster-stand-up-if-you-are-a -- RecklessPrudence

They called it the DevilPurge, and they came for all the creatures of the night. They came politely, with notarised invitations and assortments of red tape.

They helped the vampires move out. They assisted the werewolves. They kindly and gently moved the mausoleums of the undead. They bussed the witches, wizards and warlocks into a faraway place on the very borders of the kingdom.

To make things better, they said. To

Menu

Indie writer seeks audience with an audience. Paying customers welcome. [pronouns: ze/hir] Daily free stories happen because it is an excellent counter to Writers' Block.