N3v3rM0r3
Ezekiel
Pizza Box
RPM
Hos
rush99999
tadcfnaf
Syrenrei
Zeus23Well swash my buckle if it isn't 7th Sea!
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 17 days ago
Status
Recent Statuses
17 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
likes
25 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
like
3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
1
like
Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
@Jarl Coolgruuf@Fetzen
The man gave Clive a look of curiosity that was completely at odds with the situation. He looked for all the world like an average white collar worker, dressed neatly but not extravagantly, clean shaven, neither tall nor short, handsome or ugly. The other passengers streamed around them, mostly glued to the screens of their cellphones or anxiously wishing the baggage carousel to hurry up and magically produce their luggage. Abruptly the man let go of the bag that Mael was attempting to wrestle from him, seeming to completely lose interest in the theft he had just purported.
"You know, I'd never really considered it," the man said as a smile spread across his face. The wrongness of the smile was immediately apparent to Clive and Mael. The man had too many teeth, far too many, they packed his mouth sharp and jagged in lamprey like profusion. With deliberate nonchalance he bent his own elbow back. Tendons strained and there was a sudden pop of bone dislocating. If it pained the man his toothy grin gave no sign of it. The woman however began to scream in terror that was as false as it was believable. Passengers looked up from their phones in shock and a space began to open around Clive. TSA agents were already grabbing for weapons or radios depending on how rent-a-cop they were feeling.
"Help! This man is attacking my husband! Please somebody help me!"
___________________
@Rapid Reader
The man's scream had a hideous inhuman characteristic to it as he shoved himself upward. The alchemical mixture spilled on his back hissed and popped as it interacted with some glamour or enchantment, noxious yellow smoke rose from the wound in tendrils and the mans whole body began to twitch rhythmically. Muscles and tendons stood out and there was a sound of ripping cloth as seams popped. His jaw descended, growing feral and more animistic with each passing heartbeat. The thing that had appeared to be a man placed one palm on the linoleum tiled floor, his spread fingers appearing now as misshapen claws. The other hand seized Val by the shirt front, lifted her into the air and hurled her across the hallway into one of the many stores which lined the concourse. She hit a wire shelf containing more copies of Outlander and Fifty Shades of Grey than really ought to exist in one location, sending them flying to the floor like obese butterflies. People began to scream both around Val and further down towards the baggage claim area. The man thing was on its feet now, spittle dripping from a mouth that contained too many teeth, its eyes blazed with primal fury as it lopped towards Val in a peculiarly simian shamble, claw like fingers extended even as the smoke continued to rise from its burned back.
___________________
Eleanor was midway through composing a cutting retort when things began to move very rapidly. She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and thumbed it live, opening an app labeled Arcart with a stab of her thumb. The screen morphed into a video from the camera but with heavy modification. It looked almost like the movie depiction of an infrared shot though a practiced eye would see it more as a magnetic resonance. It was, in fact, a thaumatergic field read out overlaid on what the camera was observing. Streams of numbers danced across the image locking on various points of arcane locus as they rose above the background ambient. Clive appeared as a single greenish spark, like most humans though possibly a little brighter due to either run off from the other group members, or because he had drunk some of Val's coffee. Mael's body flickered with redish contact points, which was normal for him given his background, though the app pointed out that the intensity of his thaum field was rising quickly into the 20 millimerlin range. Most worrying was the fact that the thieves themselves were well above the background thaum levels, their human baseline was there but lines of ugly yellow energy rippled over them like oil being spilled onto a clear pond. She was just about to shout a warning to her people when the man deliberately broke his own arm and the woman began to scream bloody murder.
Ice water splashed over Eleanor's guts as she realized the situation was escalating well beyond anything they had prepared for. Someone had obviously been laying this trap for them, someone with either direct intel or who could predict that the Group would send people to investigate whatever was going on. Neither of those options were good. Worst of all was that they had clearly staged a public scene, TSA officers were already shouting and moving to respond as the woman continued to scream and shriek. There was no way that Clive's false documents would hold up under prolonged scrutiny if he were detained. Options began to cascade through her mind and their repercussions spread outwards in her minds eye like dominoes toppling in all directions at once. Priority one, prevent her people from being arrested or shot in the next few seconds.
Eleanor closed her eyes. The field of endless nondescript gray stretched around her in all directions. She was naked and clean, ritually purified as she always was in The Other Place and her only adornment was a short stylus of gold and polished silver wires wound together and polished to a micrometer fine smoothness. She lifted the stylus and began to write an elaborate equation. There was no cause to hurry, time did not pass in this mental space in the same way it did in the real world and she was able to banish the panic and distraction of the real world through years of ritual practice. Glowing letters appeared in the air as she nested parenthesis and differentials with the complete focus of an EOD tech defusing an unstable bomb, knowing that any slip up might well be instantly fatal. It took a subjective minute to complete the spell, several hundred characters of mathematical shorthand so complicated that it would appear gibberish to anyone but another practitioner. That done she double checked the spell and then opened her eyes. Less than a second had passed in the real world, a literal eye blink from the point of view of an observer. Nothing visible occurred but the Arcart software registered a massive spike in Thaums, over 40 millimerlins, as her spell discharged. A light fixture fell from the ceiling, crashing into the path of one of the on rushing TSA agents and sending him sprawling to the ground in a pile that tripped up two of his fellows. Several other lights blew out plunging half the concourse into darkness save for the greenish glow of emergency lighting. The baggage carousel screeched and threw a belt, a high pitched whining filling the air. There was a rending crash of indeterminate origin somewhere off in the distance as the airport descended into chaos. A dozen other minor things went wrong all at once, none of them anything more than bad luck, but amplified by her entropic curse to make them all the more likely for the next few seconds, hopefully buying them all some breathing room.
The man gave Clive a look of curiosity that was completely at odds with the situation. He looked for all the world like an average white collar worker, dressed neatly but not extravagantly, clean shaven, neither tall nor short, handsome or ugly. The other passengers streamed around them, mostly glued to the screens of their cellphones or anxiously wishing the baggage carousel to hurry up and magically produce their luggage. Abruptly the man let go of the bag that Mael was attempting to wrestle from him, seeming to completely lose interest in the theft he had just purported.
"You know, I'd never really considered it," the man said as a smile spread across his face. The wrongness of the smile was immediately apparent to Clive and Mael. The man had too many teeth, far too many, they packed his mouth sharp and jagged in lamprey like profusion. With deliberate nonchalance he bent his own elbow back. Tendons strained and there was a sudden pop of bone dislocating. If it pained the man his toothy grin gave no sign of it. The woman however began to scream in terror that was as false as it was believable. Passengers looked up from their phones in shock and a space began to open around Clive. TSA agents were already grabbing for weapons or radios depending on how rent-a-cop they were feeling.
"Help! This man is attacking my husband! Please somebody help me!"
___________________
@Rapid Reader
The man's scream had a hideous inhuman characteristic to it as he shoved himself upward. The alchemical mixture spilled on his back hissed and popped as it interacted with some glamour or enchantment, noxious yellow smoke rose from the wound in tendrils and the mans whole body began to twitch rhythmically. Muscles and tendons stood out and there was a sound of ripping cloth as seams popped. His jaw descended, growing feral and more animistic with each passing heartbeat. The thing that had appeared to be a man placed one palm on the linoleum tiled floor, his spread fingers appearing now as misshapen claws. The other hand seized Val by the shirt front, lifted her into the air and hurled her across the hallway into one of the many stores which lined the concourse. She hit a wire shelf containing more copies of Outlander and Fifty Shades of Grey than really ought to exist in one location, sending them flying to the floor like obese butterflies. People began to scream both around Val and further down towards the baggage claim area. The man thing was on its feet now, spittle dripping from a mouth that contained too many teeth, its eyes blazed with primal fury as it lopped towards Val in a peculiarly simian shamble, claw like fingers extended even as the smoke continued to rise from its burned back.
___________________
Eleanor was midway through composing a cutting retort when things began to move very rapidly. She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and thumbed it live, opening an app labeled Arcart with a stab of her thumb. The screen morphed into a video from the camera but with heavy modification. It looked almost like the movie depiction of an infrared shot though a practiced eye would see it more as a magnetic resonance. It was, in fact, a thaumatergic field read out overlaid on what the camera was observing. Streams of numbers danced across the image locking on various points of arcane locus as they rose above the background ambient. Clive appeared as a single greenish spark, like most humans though possibly a little brighter due to either run off from the other group members, or because he had drunk some of Val's coffee. Mael's body flickered with redish contact points, which was normal for him given his background, though the app pointed out that the intensity of his thaum field was rising quickly into the 20 millimerlin range. Most worrying was the fact that the thieves themselves were well above the background thaum levels, their human baseline was there but lines of ugly yellow energy rippled over them like oil being spilled onto a clear pond. She was just about to shout a warning to her people when the man deliberately broke his own arm and the woman began to scream bloody murder.
Ice water splashed over Eleanor's guts as she realized the situation was escalating well beyond anything they had prepared for. Someone had obviously been laying this trap for them, someone with either direct intel or who could predict that the Group would send people to investigate whatever was going on. Neither of those options were good. Worst of all was that they had clearly staged a public scene, TSA officers were already shouting and moving to respond as the woman continued to scream and shriek. There was no way that Clive's false documents would hold up under prolonged scrutiny if he were detained. Options began to cascade through her mind and their repercussions spread outwards in her minds eye like dominoes toppling in all directions at once. Priority one, prevent her people from being arrested or shot in the next few seconds.
Eleanor closed her eyes. The field of endless nondescript gray stretched around her in all directions. She was naked and clean, ritually purified as she always was in The Other Place and her only adornment was a short stylus of gold and polished silver wires wound together and polished to a micrometer fine smoothness. She lifted the stylus and began to write an elaborate equation. There was no cause to hurry, time did not pass in this mental space in the same way it did in the real world and she was able to banish the panic and distraction of the real world through years of ritual practice. Glowing letters appeared in the air as she nested parenthesis and differentials with the complete focus of an EOD tech defusing an unstable bomb, knowing that any slip up might well be instantly fatal. It took a subjective minute to complete the spell, several hundred characters of mathematical shorthand so complicated that it would appear gibberish to anyone but another practitioner. That done she double checked the spell and then opened her eyes. Less than a second had passed in the real world, a literal eye blink from the point of view of an observer. Nothing visible occurred but the Arcart software registered a massive spike in Thaums, over 40 millimerlins, as her spell discharged. A light fixture fell from the ceiling, crashing into the path of one of the on rushing TSA agents and sending him sprawling to the ground in a pile that tripped up two of his fellows. Several other lights blew out plunging half the concourse into darkness save for the greenish glow of emergency lighting. The baggage carousel screeched and threw a belt, a high pitched whining filling the air. There was a rending crash of indeterminate origin somewhere off in the distance as the airport descended into chaos. A dozen other minor things went wrong all at once, none of them anything more than bad luck, but amplified by her entropic curse to make them all the more likely for the next few seconds, hopefully buying them all some breathing room.
-378
Master Caperelli, the owner, operator and sole employee of Caperelli trading, was reluctant to speak. He was well into his sixties and if not exactly fat, then certainly soft and why not? Years spent trading in the profitable Kalderi markets had obviously treated him well. They sat cross legged in what, evidently, was Kalderi fashion on elaborately embroided form fitting cushions in a parlor with an elaborate mosaic floor. The mosaic depicted a sea side and was artfully fashioned to appear most stylized at the center point and grew increasingly realistic until it blended into a holographic ocean projected onto the walls. While the effect was well executed and doubtlessly expensive, Rene found it to be slightly gaudy.
After some discussion they had decided not to bother with subterfuge. Solae had pointed out that her appearance was scarcely less likely to get rumors going than a human ship landing inside the Kalderi precinct and debarking mystery guests, including Syshin, who had been treated with honor by the normally insular aliens. It would be a very poor intelligence apparatus indeed that failed to put those pieces together. There was a political purpose also, these people, for all that they lived in Kalderi territory, were Solae's subjects and if she was to rule them, the notion that she had bravely gone about her duty even while Tan was hunting her might be an important piece of PR if and when she was able to openly rule the sector. Rene could intellectually understand the reasons, but that didn't mean that he liked them.
"Yes, my lady, I am familiar with Bouradine," Caperelli admitted. That was more than they had managed to get from the first two trading houses they had called on. Whatever his status had been before the incident with Bel'sian, Bouradine had become a leper overnight when his actions had jeopardized the trading enclave. People who had been his neighbors now claimed not to know or even to have heard of him and no amount of reassurances from Solae had been able to convince them otherwise. Rene would have been willing to strong arm them if it had been necessary, but he was just as pleased that Caperelli had been willing to speak with them. He was dressed in a suit of dark grey, the same shade as, and cut to resemble, a second class Marine uniform, the kind that was worn for normal non-combat duties. The first class uniform would have been too much for this occasion and was rumpled beside from having been tossed on the floor during last nights enthusiasm. It was useful to have a reminder that he was a soldier, without coming right out and saying it. Rene continued to marvel at Ten's forethought, if he was as meticulous in all aspects of his life, Alayla Thorne's organisation didn't stand a chance. They sipped tepid and astringent tea from small cups of etched glass while the old man choose his words.
"You musn't believe the rumors, Gregorie Bouradine is a sharp business man, and maybe not always as concerned as he should be as where his supplies come from, but he is no murderer, nor kidnapper neither," Caperelli went on. He had a voice like rustling parchment but he was firm and confident in his speach.
"His shop was empty when they searched it you know, cleaned out, he must have been planning whatever it was for some time, though I confess not to have noticed. Some men do cash out, take their money and return to Imperial space to live the high life," Caperelli ruminated, apparently finding such an act to be as puzzling as a fish deciding to take up chess. Judging by his aping of Kalderi style, the man had well and truly gone native, he even shrugged his shoulders at odd points, perhaps unconsciously trying to imitate the body language of his hosts.
"What a Kalderi girl would want with him is beyond me, but she used to come to his shop on the regular, didn't seem to buy too much, though there was some of that," the old man explained.
After some discussion they had decided not to bother with subterfuge. Solae had pointed out that her appearance was scarcely less likely to get rumors going than a human ship landing inside the Kalderi precinct and debarking mystery guests, including Syshin, who had been treated with honor by the normally insular aliens. It would be a very poor intelligence apparatus indeed that failed to put those pieces together. There was a political purpose also, these people, for all that they lived in Kalderi territory, were Solae's subjects and if she was to rule them, the notion that she had bravely gone about her duty even while Tan was hunting her might be an important piece of PR if and when she was able to openly rule the sector. Rene could intellectually understand the reasons, but that didn't mean that he liked them.
"Yes, my lady, I am familiar with Bouradine," Caperelli admitted. That was more than they had managed to get from the first two trading houses they had called on. Whatever his status had been before the incident with Bel'sian, Bouradine had become a leper overnight when his actions had jeopardized the trading enclave. People who had been his neighbors now claimed not to know or even to have heard of him and no amount of reassurances from Solae had been able to convince them otherwise. Rene would have been willing to strong arm them if it had been necessary, but he was just as pleased that Caperelli had been willing to speak with them. He was dressed in a suit of dark grey, the same shade as, and cut to resemble, a second class Marine uniform, the kind that was worn for normal non-combat duties. The first class uniform would have been too much for this occasion and was rumpled beside from having been tossed on the floor during last nights enthusiasm. It was useful to have a reminder that he was a soldier, without coming right out and saying it. Rene continued to marvel at Ten's forethought, if he was as meticulous in all aspects of his life, Alayla Thorne's organisation didn't stand a chance. They sipped tepid and astringent tea from small cups of etched glass while the old man choose his words.
"You musn't believe the rumors, Gregorie Bouradine is a sharp business man, and maybe not always as concerned as he should be as where his supplies come from, but he is no murderer, nor kidnapper neither," Caperelli went on. He had a voice like rustling parchment but he was firm and confident in his speach.
"His shop was empty when they searched it you know, cleaned out, he must have been planning whatever it was for some time, though I confess not to have noticed. Some men do cash out, take their money and return to Imperial space to live the high life," Caperelli ruminated, apparently finding such an act to be as puzzling as a fish deciding to take up chess. Judging by his aping of Kalderi style, the man had well and truly gone native, he even shrugged his shoulders at odd points, perhaps unconsciously trying to imitate the body language of his hosts.
"What a Kalderi girl would want with him is beyond me, but she used to come to his shop on the regular, didn't seem to buy too much, though there was some of that," the old man explained.
-376
-374
Sabatine pulled her commo helmet from her head and followed Higgs and Capperelli in through the wrought iron gate. The bosun hadn't been best pleased to be rousted from the brothel they had found him in but he hadn't complained or tried to shirk the duty which was a good sign. He had also been staggeringly drunk but after a dousing with cold water and a half hour spent searching for Kaiden he was, well not sober, but functional. A pair of liveried servants tried to step into the way.
"Mistress this is a private party, who do you think you are to..." the servants self important rant choked off as Capperelli punched him in the stomach and shoved him head long into a well manicured rose bush. That wasn't a good choice, but it wasn't so far from Sabatine's on reaction that she would bother to mention it.
"No one you want to fuck with tonight buddy," Higgs growled, though he directed the comment at the second servant who was already backing away with his hands raised. None of the spacers carried guns, or even the more customary knives or clubs, but she didn't doubt that her people would finish any trouble the locals put up about her barging into a private party. Fortunately further trouble was abrogated by the fact that Kaiden was close to hand.
"Kai," she called out, waving her hand at him, though he could hardly have missed his shipmates assaulting his hosts servants. The use of the diminutive name was intended to convince the locals that she knew Kaiden well enough that they should butt out without further object lessons delivered by her spacers, and to signal to Kaiden that this wasn't strictly speaking, official RCN business. The matter had been reported to Captain Micha who had said that it was a matter for the local police to sort out. He hadn't said that to Sabatine however so she was choosing to interpret that as Micha's opinion rather than official order. A few quick calls to the local police precincts had confirmed Cappereili's initial suspicion, whoever had taken the Midshipman, it wasn't the dirt side cops. Whoever it was though, was going to learn that the RCN didn't sit by and wait for the local PD to put down their donuts when one of their own was taken. At least if Sabatine had anything to say about it, which for the moment, she did. Involving Kaiden was a calculated risk but at least if both she and the XO concurred on the course of action it would be harder for Micha to raise any objections after the fact. They were, after all, the officers on the ground. She had used the recall plate Kaiden carried to locate him, all spacers on liberty carried such devices in case their should be some urgent need to recall them to the ship, but she hadn't activated it. To do so might alert the captain to what she was up to, which would give him a chance to order her not to do it. No one stopped her as she mounted the patio and closed with Kaiden.
"We have a situation XO," she said softly enough that only he and probably Tilda could hear. As directly as she could she outlined the situation, including the fact that Captain Micha had been made aware of it and seemed inclined to wait for the local cops to sort it out.
"It was all planned in advance," she concluded. Sabatine had linked her commo helmet to the ships systems, an easy enough trick if you were familiar with the hardware, which most people weren't. It amazed her how little interest people took in the tech they used every single day. Working in maintenance at Harbor Three had required her to learn every subsystem and hidden routine in almost every piece of kit the RCN used and she had learned very quickly that most people, even techs, didn't know they were there unless they directly bore on their day to day activities. Accessing the ship she had been able to uplink to the orbital satellite imagery, fortunately there as no cloud cover, and had spotted the snatch team staging in a nearby parking area before Otis had even entered the brothel. She had also been able to track them to a compound high up in the eastern hills. It was obviously guarded, though by nothing more than stone walls and a dozen or so locals.
"I don't have a second commo helmet but I suppose I could bring it up on a holo display," Sabatine concluded. Kaiden opened his mouth but Tilda produced a small palm sized unit and passed it to Sabatine.
"Use mine," she said helpfully. Sabatine nodded curtly and took the unit before pausing.
"It is up to you sir," she said choosing her words carefully. Kaiden was a scion of the Cinnibar nobility and thus understood that she was working around the Captain without her stating it directly.
"If you have duties here you can't leave..." she went on. If Kaiden didn't want to get involved that was his prerogative, but duty required that Sabatine report what she had learned to a superior. Kaiden was no coward, she knew that, but if he didn't want to stick his neck out for what might easily turn into a real ratfuck she would understand the choice, even if she couldn't respect it.
"Mistress this is a private party, who do you think you are to..." the servants self important rant choked off as Capperelli punched him in the stomach and shoved him head long into a well manicured rose bush. That wasn't a good choice, but it wasn't so far from Sabatine's on reaction that she would bother to mention it.
"No one you want to fuck with tonight buddy," Higgs growled, though he directed the comment at the second servant who was already backing away with his hands raised. None of the spacers carried guns, or even the more customary knives or clubs, but she didn't doubt that her people would finish any trouble the locals put up about her barging into a private party. Fortunately further trouble was abrogated by the fact that Kaiden was close to hand.
"Kai," she called out, waving her hand at him, though he could hardly have missed his shipmates assaulting his hosts servants. The use of the diminutive name was intended to convince the locals that she knew Kaiden well enough that they should butt out without further object lessons delivered by her spacers, and to signal to Kaiden that this wasn't strictly speaking, official RCN business. The matter had been reported to Captain Micha who had said that it was a matter for the local police to sort out. He hadn't said that to Sabatine however so she was choosing to interpret that as Micha's opinion rather than official order. A few quick calls to the local police precincts had confirmed Cappereili's initial suspicion, whoever had taken the Midshipman, it wasn't the dirt side cops. Whoever it was though, was going to learn that the RCN didn't sit by and wait for the local PD to put down their donuts when one of their own was taken. At least if Sabatine had anything to say about it, which for the moment, she did. Involving Kaiden was a calculated risk but at least if both she and the XO concurred on the course of action it would be harder for Micha to raise any objections after the fact. They were, after all, the officers on the ground. She had used the recall plate Kaiden carried to locate him, all spacers on liberty carried such devices in case their should be some urgent need to recall them to the ship, but she hadn't activated it. To do so might alert the captain to what she was up to, which would give him a chance to order her not to do it. No one stopped her as she mounted the patio and closed with Kaiden.
"We have a situation XO," she said softly enough that only he and probably Tilda could hear. As directly as she could she outlined the situation, including the fact that Captain Micha had been made aware of it and seemed inclined to wait for the local cops to sort it out.
"It was all planned in advance," she concluded. Sabatine had linked her commo helmet to the ships systems, an easy enough trick if you were familiar with the hardware, which most people weren't. It amazed her how little interest people took in the tech they used every single day. Working in maintenance at Harbor Three had required her to learn every subsystem and hidden routine in almost every piece of kit the RCN used and she had learned very quickly that most people, even techs, didn't know they were there unless they directly bore on their day to day activities. Accessing the ship she had been able to uplink to the orbital satellite imagery, fortunately there as no cloud cover, and had spotted the snatch team staging in a nearby parking area before Otis had even entered the brothel. She had also been able to track them to a compound high up in the eastern hills. It was obviously guarded, though by nothing more than stone walls and a dozen or so locals.
"I don't have a second commo helmet but I suppose I could bring it up on a holo display," Sabatine concluded. Kaiden opened his mouth but Tilda produced a small palm sized unit and passed it to Sabatine.
"Use mine," she said helpfully. Sabatine nodded curtly and took the unit before pausing.
"It is up to you sir," she said choosing her words carefully. Kaiden was a scion of the Cinnibar nobility and thus understood that she was working around the Captain without her stating it directly.
"If you have duties here you can't leave..." she went on. If Kaiden didn't want to get involved that was his prerogative, but duty required that Sabatine report what she had learned to a superior. Kaiden was no coward, she knew that, but if he didn't want to stick his neck out for what might easily turn into a real ratfuck she would understand the choice, even if she couldn't respect it.
though the lights are noticeably normal.
Miranda: These lights seem normal to anyone else? Like... super normal... *narrows eyes*
© 2007-2026