Friday, February 27, 2015

MindGames: As The World Terns 1

Tern's trailer was lined with computer screen crammed together. Some were scavenged, older LED displays, one was a mirror HUD, and the rest were newer fabric displays. They were oriented in every which way with most of them running dynamic feeds of the political governments in the known universe. She wore a spandex body stocking and chorded gloves that fed wirelessly into her computing system.

She hummed tunelessly to herself, while paging through stock notes coming in live (minus the transmission delay) from Omr. The numbers were flowing through expected fluctuations, and she tagged a few promising ventures for future review. There was a tap on her door, and she toggled control over to her local betting book screen, the only display that was duplicated, with one inside and one outside her trailer.

She eased herself over to the door, and slid it open, admitted a face she didn't know. "What's your poison?"

"What's the book for the Prime Minister election on Three?"

"Which one?"

He paused, ignorant of the fact that there were four of them currently running, and another half-dozen in the coming months. "Uhh... the one with Joh Aldams."

"Oh. Sure, just a moment." Tern turned her head to face the display, though it was currently upside-down in relation to her body's orientation, and scrolled through the list. "Two to three for Joh, one to six for Sil, and one to six for Mal. No minimums. What's your bid?"

"Can I get two hundred on Mal?"

"Two hundred down on Mal pays out twelve hundred if he wins. You sure?"

He swallowed heavily, his adams apple sticking out like a sore thumb, and hesitated a moment before nodding.

"Put your thumbprint on the sensor." She gestured to the fingerprint detector hanging beside the door jam. A quick keystroke as he did verified his funds and transferred the appropriate amount to her holding account. "Payout next week. Good luck."

"Thanks."

She shut the door and went back to work.

--
Next
Excerpt from Tales of Vidar: Coming Home

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Coined by Calm, Day 2

Saying that I slept well last night would be a lie. Despite knowing that what I'm doing isn't illegal, and despite not running into anyone giving me suspicious looks, I still had an almost overwhelming feeling that someone was going to come by, tear down my tent, and either send me home or haul me down to the nearest police station.

Nobody did either of those things, but I still slept lightly and intermittently.

It's not my first night in my tent or my sleeping bag, and not my first time camping. I've spent a fair number of sound nights "camping" in my apartment, and almost as many childhood memories outside on the school campus. In the first scenario, I was on my own property, albeit rented; in the second scenario, I was on private property that I was invited to, and not alone.

Here and now, I'm on what is supposed to be public property, I'm outside in a state I haven't spent a considerable amount of time in, and I'm alone.

I just have to remember that it will get easier, and I'll get more comfortable. I'm not doing anything wrong.

--
Mirrored from CoinedbyCalm's official page. Read the most recent posts there. CoinedByCalm.blogspot.com

Entry written: 2015-01-22

Saturday, February 21, 2015

MI 1: Mistaken Identity, 1

"Ponytail? Check. Goatee? Check. Alright, you're coming with me." The gorilla in sheep's clothing grabs on my arm and hauls me out of the crowded sidewalk into an alley.

"Whoa, hey, wait, what!?"

"You're coming with me, either on your own two feet or on your knees, it's up to you. Are you walking or do I have to drag you?"

"I'm sorry?"

The lump of muscle pulled a wallet-sized photo out of an inner pocket and squints at it. "Eh, close enough." He flashes it at me. "That's you, buddy. You're on the list, so you're coming downtown with me."

"Um, actually, we're already downtown. And I don't think that looks anything like--"

"It's just a saying. And of course you'd say it doesn't look like you; you're just trying to pull the wool over my eyes. My damn contacts may be swishing around behind my eyes, but I'm not blind. That's it, up and at 'em."

--

"What do you mean it isn't him?"

"Sorry Shirley, but you got the wrong one."

Shirley flexed his pecks and growled, and I could feel his arms vibrating from it as he held mine behind my back. I tried not to giggle as I looked back at my captor. Shirley? I must have snorted aloud accidentally, because he glared down his stubby and once-broken nose at me and tightened his grip. I winced and tried to look apologetic, still trying not to laugh.

Raw Negation: The Titan-Tithed Fey, pg 2

First Page - Previous Page
--

Fey pulled the Propaganda Cannon off its back and fired it into the battlefield, demoralizing its armies and enemies alike. Then it used its Routine skill to completely heal itself; grimace again reverting back to a grin.

Toffy, far behind the rest of the party, scuffed out his last spell and drew out Tornado, re-buffing his crew.

"Use Voxel Rush 3D," bellowed Fey, and its armies mustered new strength, shifted their formation, and charged. Fey dropped to one knee, holding its head in its hands, murmuring, "Blah... Blah" over and over again. Whether it is crying or laughing is unclear.

The twins finally harmonized, weaving into the Ode of Only a few days left to get Exploding Kittens, before their voices cracked again. Their song confused the titans, momentarily disrupting the Fey's source of power.

Twosop reached into his bottomless bag and pulled out a battered copy of the Dhevinomicon. With it, he cast Bedroom 2, and stopped a dozen of Fey's minions in their tracks. Toffy desperately threw his hands into the air and summoned his Psychic Magic Eight Ball. A disembodied voice belted out, "quick round commissions," vibrating the ground as it did, but not enough to cause anybody, least of all the hordes of Fey's minions, to stumble. However, some of them did start laughing enough to be momentarily distracted. Toffy rolled his eyes, picked up his staff once more, and slogged on. Toffy, far behind the rest of the party, scuffed out his last spell and drew out Flowcharts, re-buffing his crew. Twosop shouted "Winter is my favorite season!," and the minion bearing down on him stopped short, confused. He took advantage and dealt a killing blow. It dissolved into one more pile of dust.

Fey used its Routine skill to completely heal itself! Its grimace reverts back into a grin.

Fred de'Cease murmured what sounded like "Somewhere, Somewhere," in a thick foreign accent, and the minions around him started attacking each other instead. Twosop shouted "Inking finished ," and the minion bearing down on him stopped short, confused. He took advantage and dealt a killing blow. It dissolved into one more pile of dust. Fred de'Cease yanked his Cat and Kitten Fused Glass Pendant from his neck as it started to smoke and threw it to the ground. It shortly exploded, crippling an inattentive minion.

Fey's knees started to buckle, and it temporarily teleported back to Day 30* to recover some strength.

--
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Friday, February 13, 2015

Raw Negation: The Titan-Tithed Fey, pg 1

Author's Note: In terms of my normal writing quality, this is terrible, and I recognize that. But what I hope you recognize is that in terms of how it was written (and it was not the usual way) it turned out surprisingly well; it still needs work, but it turned out better than I had any right to hope.
--

Twosop reached into his bottomless bag and pulled out a battered copy of the Dhevinomicon. With it, he cast Lacrima Christi*, and stopped a dozen of Fey's minions in their tracks. Fred de'Cease yanked his Fused Glass Frog Leaf Pendant Necklace* charm from his neck as it started to smoke and threw it to the ground. It shortly exploded, crippling an inattentive minion.

It was closely followed by his Night Owl Pendant*, which too exploded, finishing off that minion.

Fey dropped to one knee, holding its head in its hands, murmuring, "The death of apathy... The death of apathy" over and over again. Whether it was crying or laughing is unclear.

Toffy, far behind the rest of the party, scuffed out his last spell and drew out Apollo Speeches, re-buffing his crew.

Fey pulled the Propaganda Cannon off its back and fired it into the battlefield, demoralizing its armies and enemies alike. "Use Ingress*," bellowed Fey, and its armies mustered new strength, shifted their formation, and charged.

Twosop reached into his bottomless bag and pulled out a battered copy of the Dhevinomicon. With it, he cast Show Love*, and stopped a dozen of Fey's minions in their tracks.

Fey pulled the Propaganda Cannon off its back again, demoralizing everyone on the field.

Toffy desperately threw his hands into the air and summoned his Psychic Magic Eight Ball. A disembodied voice belted out, "sleepwalker*," vibrating the ground as it did, but not enough to cause anybody, least of all the hordes of Fey's minions, to stumble. However, some of them did start laughing enough to be momentarily distracted. Toffy rolled his eyes, picked up his staff once more, and slogged on.

Fey used its Routine skill to completely heal itself! Its grimace reverts back into a grin.

Fred de'Cease yanked his Fancy Cat Fused Glass Translucent Pendant* from his neck as it started to smoke and threw it to the ground. It shortly exploded, crippling an inattentive minion. Sandra cast Frostie*, then dove for cover as it bounced off Fey's defenses back at her. It cut a swath through the minions around her and blew a hole where she had been standing. Twosop shouted "Pencilwork!*," and the minion bearing down on him stopped short, confused. He took advantage and dealt a killing blow. It dissolved into one more pile of dust. Sandra cast Jungle Eyes*, then dove for cover as it bounced off Fey's defenses back at her. It cut a swath through the minions around her and blew a hole where she had been standing.

Fey dropped to one knee, holding its head in its hands, murmuring, "No... No" over and over again. Whether it is crying or laughing is unclear.

Fred de'Cease yanked his Bonsai Tree Fused Glass Jewelry Necklace Pendant* from his neck as it started to smoke and threw it to the ground. It shortly exploded, crippling an inattentive minion. Toffy desperately threw his hands into the air and summoned his Psychic Magic Eight Ball. A disembodied voice belted out, "for now I am winter[and I waited for you]*," vibrating the ground as it did, but not enough to cause anybody, least of all the hordes of Fey's minions, to stumble. However, some of them did start laughing enough to be momentarily distracted. Toffy rolled his eyes, picked up his staff once more, and slogged on. Toffy, far behind the rest of the party, scuffed out his last spell and drew out Vacuum*, re-buffing his crew. Fred de'Cease murmured what sounded like "69 Hummingbirds, 69 Hummingbirds** from his neck as it started to smoke and threw it to the ground. It shortly exploded, crippling an inattentive minion.

--
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Saturday, February 7, 2015

Truly Futile

all your feeds are belong to me,
and your creativity is in my hands;
all your tries and tribulations,
all your armies and your clans.

every word fuels these engines
that drive my story forward,
and say or not that you approve,
you still pave roads unmarred.

every resistance, every vow,
every attempt of sabotage,
every whimper, every muster,
gives my story a recharge.

--
Written about a new writing project (yes, another) called "Raw Negation." Stay tuned for more information.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Untitled

I inhaled, surprising myself in my ability to do so enough that I started coughing. The air was stale but cold, and it felt refreshing to my burning lungs. I opened my eyes and saw blurry reflections of myself reflected back at me. Sweat tainted the air and coated my body, chilling my skin in a flash. I shivered.

As I unzipped my tube tent, I tried to remember why I had stopped breathing. While the view from my sleeping bag was beautiful, it wasn't breathtaking, literally or otherwise.

Thinking back on the night, I could remember lose to the moment when I started to drift off to sleep, but could remember nothing of my dreams. That in itself was unusual.