A 9-post collection

Challenge #01521-D060: Perspective Post Peril

(Couldn't make this entirely gender-neutral. I suspect the terms do not exist in English. Although I know half a dozen ways to say one of them in various fictional universes, one of them might be the correct English form of address. As for a gender-neutral term for the person in charge of a Duchy (apart from the major-domo or seneschal or whatever who's actually running it all... idk)

[Person #1]: (VERY full of themselves, has been nothing but irritating, has no training, and has barged into a situation where they could get everyone killed and demanded to be in charge, only to be offended when Person #2 refuses) I am (longwinded recitation of titles). (More titles). (MORE titles), who are you?

[Person #2] (has been working the whole time, is stressed) Who am I? I am [His/Her/Their) Grace, (Sir/Lady/?) [Name], (Duke/Duchess/?) of the People Who Don't Give A Rat's Arse, and Knight of the Order of Go-Fuck-Yourself. And of course, although it may be of no importance and I beg your pardon, the person with the relevant training toward keeping us all alive. -- RecklessPrudence

Space. There's quite a lot of it. As you might expect, the gulfs between points of interest are vast and there's no real need for official shipping lanes beyond the confidence to be found if, say, one's ship happens to suffer a catastrophic breakdown in the middle of nowhere. Such as what has happened to the Higher Class whilst it was so desperately off-course that there was no such thing as a course to take, any more.

Oh, and it also happens to be falling towards a Brown Dwarf, a star so small that it might double as a gas giant. The coldest class of star yet discovered. Of course, none of this matters should one's vessel actually fall inside, where the temperatures are still hot enough to burn one alive whilst also crushing one to death.

A fate that awaits the Higher Class, all its crew, and Ambassador Verille. Who happens to be the one to have ordered the "intense course correction" that got the ship into trouble in the first place. All because ze was in a hurry. And now the Ambassador was impatient about the repairs. Not because of the impending doom on the Higher Class, but because ze was now late in meeting hir friends on Hitizzy.

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How do I deal?

I managed to scare my mother with the threat of science. And when MeMum gets scared, she gets hostile. And since I don't want her to shut me down entirely, I must relent.

I have to maintain the avenues of communication.

I have to be the one making the tough decisions when those decisions are out of MeMum's reach. And that's a possibility that I didn't want to be looming, just yet.

And once Mum's put her foot down about a thing,

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Unexpected Improvements

What I learned to expect from doing a LCHF diet was a general improvement to my health. What I didn't expect was a reversal of ageing indicators. I already mentioned in an earlier blog how my knees have come to function more properly than they have in two decades.

So along with the arthritis reversal, we've also noted: a slowing down and an ebbing of unwanted facial hair, a general improvement in skin conditions, stubble where there once was balding, an increase

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5 more years off Purgatory...

I did a genuine good deed, tonight. The cat bought in a bird and, being a cat, demanded acknowledgement of her great feline feat.

Mayhem spotted it, I discouraged the cat from holding the poor creature, and together we bought the poor thing to the relative safety of the front room.

It was a small olive-green honeysucker, judging by the proboscis-like beak and its long tongue. I held it in my hands for quite some time, and kept Mayhem from patting the

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Drama Llama is moving in....

The dog somehow got into my car. He chewed the back seat. He chewed the driver’s seat belt. He didn’t get into anything else, thank goodness, but I’ve been packing death.

It could have put the kibosh on my travel plans.

Thanks to the blithe spirits, the insurance mob told me they’d spring for everything shy of $500. Ouch. But not so much ouch as total replacement would have cost sans insurance.

I need

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There goes the other shoe...

Drama Llama stopped by and handed me a little quote-unquote “gift”. Dramatically, of course.

The friend who verified my identity forgot to initial a correction on the form she filled out, verifying my identity.

I now have to wait for the weekend, attend a baby shower, and hand over a vital document so it can be initialled in the correct place and sent back to me.

Which now also means I have to gather up a First Mum’s

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All's quiet...

TOO quiet, as they are won’t to say.

I haven’t had any dramas dropping into my lap, nor Drama Llama’s coming to stay. So far.

I reckon they’re saving themselves up for tomorrow.

What’s happening tomorrow, you may ask? Well, I plan on going out to get a passport photo taken. So I can take it to a friend on Sunday and get myself verified. I hope.

That’s when the

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As the Drama Flies: episode 2

As you may be aware from the previous episode, I have been invited to Thailand for a few weeks, and also begun the process towards getting a passport.

This involves getting hold of a registrar’s office official copy of my birth certificate and my marriage licence. Which means getting hold of the department of births, deaths and marriages.

Sure, you can get lots of information online, but you can’t order a copy of your own ID papers.


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