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i will do crits for all by 22 september 2359 pst
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# ? Sep 16, 2015 12:30 |
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# ? Oct 11, 2024 07:42 |
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fast critting good critting
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# ? Sep 16, 2015 15:06 |
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:and where are the crits? They do not exist. They are a farce, also. All of these are toys dangled in front of the baby's crib to help it to sleep, no? All these capitalists and communists and papists and so on they are children in the crib, and these crits are dangled before them until they sleep and they forget.
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# ? Sep 16, 2015 19:55 |
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I'll do two crits for last week. Any takers?
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 00:23 |
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Schneider Heim posted:I'll do two crits for last week. Any takers? I'll take one, cheers.
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 00:40 |
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Schneider Heim posted:I'll do two crits for last week. Any takers?
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 02:21 |
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In IRC, Schneider Heim posted:<schneiderheim> I can't access SA and I'd like to request an artifact Mask from New Caledonia, Melanesia
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 04:12 |
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In. I would like an artifact, please.
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 04:16 |
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Tyrannosaurus posted:In. Table clock by Lucas Weydmann
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# ? Sep 17, 2015 04:38 |
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E: whoops curlingiron fucked around with this message at 03:45 on Sep 18, 2015 |
# ? Sep 18, 2015 03:26 |
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who will judge
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 03:35 |
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I will judge
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 04:25 |
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curlingiron posted:
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 04:26 |
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Brawlbowl I Sitting Here. Curlingiron. You know what I like about you guys? You're not nerds. You're jocks. Big, muscly jocks. Write about jocks. I don't care how many. I don't care what sport. Well, maybe. Football, basketball, or baseball. Nothing else is a real sport. Anyway, go hog wild. "Sports Fiction" is what you guys are brawling with try not write something stupid okay thank you. 7 days. 1100 words.
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 04:49 |
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Mojo post the crits
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 04:53 |
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Signups close in like 13.5 hours so maybe some more of you motherfuckers should like, do that. You uncultured swine are you afraid of a little art? I will give out flashrules to anyone who requests them, also.
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 18:36 |
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give me a quest
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 18:37 |
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So it turns out the British Museum's search is basically completely down. Luckily, they have a Tumblr, so there are still some items out there to choose from. Entenzahn posted:give me a quest Info about the exhibit quote:The Nile and the land it watered, reaching deep into sub-Saharan Africa, was a constant source of fascination for peoples living on the Mediterranean. Both the river and the land were inhabited by fabulous beasts, of which the crocodile was one. Here, an African acrobat with his seemingly tame crocodile provides an entertaining subject, perhaps for a table ornament in a wealthy Greek household. FLASH RULE: ~forbidden love~
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 19:34 |
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Sitting Here posted:Signups close in like 13.5 hours so maybe some more of you motherfuckers should like, do that. You uncultured swine are you afraid of a little art? you probably cant tell between a sumerian votive statue and an aegean idol flash me nerd
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 19:51 |
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Broenheim posted:you probably cant tell between a sumerian votive statue and an aegean idol It tries to live and move
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 20:00 |
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Exhibit Info quote:It retains its original (now broken) mechanism, which would have propelled it across a dining table on three hidden wheels in the base. It is a trick wine cup – according to contemporary dining custom, the person it stopped in front of was expected to remove the head and drink all the wine from the hollow figure. The mechanism is of iron clockwork and is excellently preserved apart from two damaged teeth on one of the winding wheels. The exploded view of the clockwork, drawn by Jim Farrant, explains its ingenuous workings. The mechanism is covered by the mound, as part of the appeal of automata was the secret way in which they were made. Sitting Here fucked around with this message at 06:52 on Sep 19, 2015 |
# ? Sep 18, 2015 20:01 |
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Here is another really cool object that you are stupid if you don't sign up and claim: https://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/highlights/highlight_objects/me/c/crushed_skull_and_head-dress.aspx Crushed skull and head-dress This skull was discovered by Leonard Woolley in THE GREAT DEATH-PIT OF UR, which contained the bodies of 5 men wielding axes and 68 women who had poisoned themselves. She is wearing an elaborate golden head dress and other jewelry.The Great Death-Pit of Ur had already been plundered by grave robbers when Woolley discovered it. To preserve this skull, he poured wax over it before hacking it out of the ground and donating it to the museum with its head dress and jewelry still in place. If you don't think that is cool, then you are...well I feel sorry for you.
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 21:13 |
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this is a cool prompt that everyone should do and ill give everyone who submits another crit. 4 crits for one week. wow, what a steal.
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 21:32 |
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In with this old thing:
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 21:44 |
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Dr. Kloctopussy posted:Here is another really cool object that you are stupid if you don't sign up and claim: That's pretty , but I'm in with this flesh-hook
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 22:04 |
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In with this one <33333
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# ? Sep 18, 2015 23:04 |
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I'm in, but the British are lazy and bad with computers so I can't post a link to what I found and decided on right now. It was an mamoth ivory carved game piece, though. edit: Also I'm
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 02:08 |
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One more object that a judge would like to see taken: Khipu A khipu – or quipu – is a series of knotted or coloured cotton cords. The numbers, positions and colours of the cords together with the different kinds of knots used hold an immense amount of information. They were already known several hundred years earlier in the pre-Inca city of Tiwanaku and by the Wari people, but the Incas perfected their use as sophisticated accounting devices using a decimal system. Khipus were portable, rolled up in a spiral to be stored and carried from one place to another. They were safeguarded by specialised Inca administrators known as khipucamayuq who could read and interpret the stored data which range from a population census to taxation. Kaishai fucked around with this message at 04:27 on Sep 19, 2015 |
# ? Sep 19, 2015 02:12 |
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COMPUTER MALFUNCTION It has been brought to the judges' attention that the British Museum's Online Collection functionality has been broken. PROBABLY BY US. Therefore: 1) You can sign up without posting an object (but you MUST post your object when you post your story) 2) You can sign up anytime before 9am PST Tomorrow (Saturday). I probably won't be awake to officially close sign ups, so they close automatically. 3) Anyone who has already claimed/been assigned an object can trade for one of the three objects posted by the judges. First come, first served. (They are still also up for grabs by new sign-ups. Whoever gets them first.) Dr. Kloctopussy fucked around with this message at 02:20 on Sep 19, 2015 |
# ? Sep 19, 2015 02:17 |
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Sitting Here posted:UP FOR GRABS: I would really like someone to write a story somehow involving this dude I'll take that. Trick wine drinking is my stock in trade.
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 06:40 |
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Fumblemouse posted:I'll take that. Trick wine drinking is my stock in trade. Excellent choice, my good sir. You clearly have a keen eye for quality, let's hope you use it on your words, too
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 06:54 |
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SIGN UPS ARE CLOSED
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 17:21 |
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Some Week 162 crits. Lazy Beggar - Pumpkin Mash Even without taking into account the original story, this was a rambling mess. Amy doesn't have a satisfying arc, and the scenes don't tie well to each other. There are elements that are introduced but never really expounded on--who the hell was that guy with Trish? Luke is a motivation who's dropped soon enough as he leaves the scene. Your scenes are uneven; there are brisk, dialogue-heavy ones (dialogue which is mostly shooting the breeze and not even anything interesting), and there's the pumpkin-carving scene, which I guess was your favorite part of writing the story because it was so jampacked with details that were ultimately pointless. You should refrain doing that in flash fiction, because you're just wasting words. worlds_best_author - 34th and Cicero I think this fails as a story because there's all this tension brewing between the characters and it explodes, and then it goes all downhill from there. Some major clusterfuck happens, the end. You introduce a lot of characters and their situations but no one ever gets a resolution. Violence! The end. This might have worked as a longer piece but not as flash fiction. I really think you should've focused on one or two characters and got in their heads, because I had no one to root for while reading this.
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 19:18 |
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Thank you Schnider Helm for the crit
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 20:28 |
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Cheers for that.
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# ? Sep 19, 2015 22:26 |
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How Jinwei Xu Became Immortal 1104 Words Lapis lazuli amulet in the form of a vulture. Jinwei Xu leaned against a boulder and pulled his greatest treasure from his pack. The silver jar reflected his wide eyes back towards him. As Jinwei Xu gazed at the jar and sighed, a second set of eyes were reflected, these ones sharp and beady. When he looked up, there was Xian Yao, sitting atop the boulder. “Very pretty.” Xian Yao said. “It is a gift. For you. Please accept it.” Jinwei Xu held up the silver jar and Xian Yao snatched it from him. “Very pretty.” Xian Yao repeated. “Y-yes.” Jinwei Xu was unnerved by Xian Yao’s mannerisms. “I was hoping honored Xian Yao would bless me with a trinket.” Xian Yao laughed. “Most do not address me so respectfully. Very well, I suppose a traveler such as yourself would need to ward off evil spirits.” Jinwei Xu shook his head. “No. Rather, I want a trinket to bind an evil spirit to my service. It’s my goal to achieve immortality and I think an evil spirit can teach me.” Xian Yao grasped Jinwei Xu by the wrist. No matter how he struggled, Jinwei Xu could not escape the grip. “Be careful, young one. Evil spirits are not easily played with. Are you sure this is what you want?” He wanted to say no. He wanted to escape this weird man, run as far as he could, but he wanted immortality more. While trembling, Jinwei Xu gave a weak nod. “Excellent!” Xian Yao laughed. Without releasing Jinwei Xu or the silver jar, Xian Yao jumped from the boulder and firmly landed. “Follow me,” he commanded. With his wrist still gripped, Jinwei Xu didn’t have a choice. ***** The inside of Xian Yao’s hovel was filled with stones, some half-carved. Completed trinkets hung from the walls, stacked upon themselves like waves rolling from the ceiling to floor. There was no open space for Xian Yao to sleep. “Let me find what you need,” said Xian Yao, tossing the silver jar into a corner before digging through the amulets. As Xian Yao searched, Jinwei Xu thought. Once he was an immortal, he could return to his homeland and kill the invaders. When they came, Jinwei Xu had fled for fear of his life. Immortality would make him fearless! Only then could he respect himself once more. Only then would he- “Ah, here you are.” Xian Yao’s voice broke Jinwei Xu’s thoughts. Xian Yao was holding forward a blue amulet in the form of a vulture. It was strung at the bottom, to be worn upside down. The two holes made the amulet look as much like a skull as it did a vulture. “This is?” Jinwei Xu was hesitant to touch such an unlucky looking trinket. “Only what you asked for. It will give you access to the strongest evil spirit I have ever encountered, Vulture.” Xian Yao pushed the amulet nearer to Jinwei Xu, who involuntarily took a step back. “Perhaps you are not pleased by my generosity?” Xian Yao frowned. “N-no, it’s what I want. Thank you.” Jinwei Xu carefully received the amulet, as not to anger either Xian Yao or the spirit. When he placed it around his neck, he felt much calmer, as though his fears had fled. “I feel great! “Good, good.” Xian Yao gave a small smile. “To summon the spirit and receive its aid, you must go to the mountain and rub the amulet while praising Vulture. It will not answer your call here,” he explained. “Of course. Thank you once more for all your help, honored Xian Yao.” Jinwei Xu bowed. Xian Yao did not respond, instead fretting over one of his half-finished trinkets. Jinwei Xu quietly withdrew. ***** “Oh great and powerful Vulture, I am in awe of your form. Please, grant this humble one your heavenly presence,” Jinwei Xu muttered while rubbing the amulet. In response, the mountain forest silenced. Then, with a loud cry, a bleeding boar stumbled out towards Jinwei Xu. Though struggling, it finally gave into death. Jinwei waited for Vulture to descend. Instead, the boar exploded into gore. There, standing atop its bones and feasting on its heart, was Vulture. Jinwei Xu wiped this blood from his face. “Greetings, honored Vulture. I am Jinwei Xu.” “I know.” Vulture finished its dinner and began gnawing at bones for desert. “Then, you must also know I desire immortality?” “Of course.” Vulture snapped a bone in half with its beak. “Then how do I-“ “Enough. You will train to grow stronger. Within these mountains are many beasts tougher and tastier than this boar. You will hunt them to death and I shall feed on their corpses. Only after I grow tired of their taste shall I grant you immortality.” “Of course. I shall start now.” Thus Jinwei Xu began his three years of training. ***** “Very good, young one.” Vulture praised Jinwei Xu as it feasted upon the ape’s corpse. “There is one more test I have for you, then you shall become immortal. Near the peak of the mountain lives the largest pack of wolves on the continent. Two hundred strong, you must slaughter every one of them!” “Of course.” Jinwei Xu bowed, even his servile form rippling with power. The journey to the peak was easy to the new Jinwei Xu, but the fight was not. Though he could kill a wolf with a single strike, they overwhelmed him in numbers and tore at his flesh, every killed member only infuriating the pack to redouble their efforts. The forthcoming gift of immortality kept Jinwei Xu fighting through the pain, the haze of blood, the ceaseless howling. Vulture lazily ate the wolf carcasses while Jinwei Xu continued to battle. When Jinwei Xu struck down the last wolf, he gave into pain and could no longer stand. “Vulture, please, grant me immortality now,” he pleaded. “Patience, young one. Immortal or not, you should not rush your meals.” Vulture continued his feast. Jinwei Xu used every ounce of willpower to not give into his wounds. Finally, when all the wolves were eaten, Vulture turned to Jinwei Xu. “Are you ready?” “Yes,” Jinwei Xu said weakly. Vulture flew to him and laughed like Xian Yao before it tore and ate a chunk of flesh from Jinwei Xu. “Delicious. The strongest are always the best tasting.” “W-what is this?” Jinwei Xu could not believe it. “Only what you asked for. You shall live forever as part of me. Lucky, lucky.” Vulture ate another chunk. The screams of Jinwei Xu echoed down the mountain to Xian Yao’s hovel, where the silver jar lay and Xian Yao did not.
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# ? Sep 20, 2015 20:22 |
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by sunday, september 27th 11:59 PM PST, I will write and record my cyberpunk merman story for kaishai
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# ? Sep 20, 2015 21:25 |
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Broenheim posted:by sunday, september 27th 11:59 PM PST, I will write and record my cyberpunk merman story for kaishai It's just like waiting for Christmas.
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# ? Sep 20, 2015 21:32 |
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The Elephant in the Room Prompt 1128 Words So I took this incredibly priceless artifact, the Borradaile Oliphant, put it between my lips and blew, feeling utterly ridiculous the whole time. Two short notes and one long, just like the old goat had said. Then I put it back on the table and glanced around the small archive room. There was a huge snake coiled up in the corner. Bigger than a python, smaller than a boa constrictor. It was bright green with a yellow stripe, and it had the head of a dragon. “Hi there, Mel,” it said. I backed up three steps. “How do you know my name?” “That's your question?” said the dragon-headed snake. “What, do I only get one?” “No, it's just that, well, I'm a huge snake with the head of a dragon, I just appeared literally out of nowhere, I can talk, and I'm speaking modern English. Rather than ask about any of those things you want to know how I know your name?” “Sure. I mean, I know the answer to the others is basically that the entire enlightenment materialist paradigm I've lived my life believing is completely wrong and that I probably should reconsider the academic career path.” “Okay, I get it. Well, I know your name because we're sort of bound together for the next year and a day. You know my name too, if you think about it.” “Grex?” “Got it in one. That there was a summoning horn, and you just summoned yourself a monster for any monstering needs you might have.” “Okay, so what can you do, exactly? Do you breathe fire?” “Um...no. Turns out that 'fire in the belly' is literal, when talking dragons.” “Are you poisonous, at least?” “No,” said Grex. “I'm venomous. If you were to cook me up and eat me, I'd be delic- no, wait, no, I'd be stringy and bland, but you wouldn't die from it. Why? You got anyone who needs biting?” I thought of the professor. “No. Maybe later.” “I have to warn you, though. I'm not all that venomous. I mean, someone I bit would be paralyzed for a while and get pretty sick, but they probably wouldn't actually die. Especially if they made it to a doctor.” “Wait,” I said, “How are you even going to get out of this room? Security is pretty tight here.” “No problem. I can sort of fade out and come back to you when you say my name.” “All right. You do that.” * * * “So,” said Professor Lachlan, “How did our little 'expedition' go, Miss Bishop?” You would not believe how much work it had taken to get the old man off his presumed first-name basis, or to get him to stop dropping innuendos and propositions every time he opened his mouth. “Judge for yourself,” I said. “Grex, come out.” The monster appeared in a corner of the old office. I'd tried it out in my own room a few hours earlier. I'd been trying to prove to myself that I hadn't just hallucinated the whole thing, but after thinking about it a little longer I realized that I hadn't proven a thing. Professor Lachlan's reaction did the trick, though. “Fascinating,” said the Professor. “So my theories were right all along. I mean, of course my theories were right all along. Never in doubt. A genuine summoning horn. Carved from the tusk of a mighty elephant and infused with the spirits of the mightiest beasts of mythology. I wish I could have seen it. Your lips caressing that massive ivory-” “Are you sure you don't want me to bite this creep?” said Grex. “Not right now,” I said. “I have to see it myself. I'll meet you outside the archives tomorrow.” “But aren't you banned from the museum for life?” I said. I was never quite sure if that had to do with his crackpot theories, his general creepiness, or some unholy juncture of the two. Although I guess his theories weren't so crackpot after all, all things considered. “Never mind that. I'll find a way.“ * * * He found a way, all right. With a clean shave, a wig, and a dress it turns out that Professor Lachlan was quite believable as a particularly ugly woman. A couple decades ago he'd have had to wear heels and hose, and I'm not sure he could have pulled those off, but loafers he could manage. He had a fake ID as an undergraduate research assistant that got him into the archive room with me. “Fascinating,” he said, looking at the Oliphant through tinted glasses. “I must use it myself,” “I'm sorry,” said Grex, “But as it happens I'm the last of the monsters.” “You are?” said the Professor and I at once. “Afraid so,” said Grex. “The last two Griffins got called out during the Blitz. Saved the museum more than once, those guys.” “Nonsense,” said the Professor. “I can still detect spirit traces in it.” He picked up the horn and brought it to his mouth. “That's not possible,” said Grex. Then a look of understanding crossed his draconic face. “Wait, you don't want to-” The professor ignored Grex and blew the horn. Two short blasts and a long one. Nothing seemed to happen. He blew it again. The two silver bands surrounding the ivory began to glow red. He blew the horn again. The metal's glow changed to white. The ivory smoked and scorched beneath them. A fourth time Lachlan sounded the horn. The metal bands snapped and flew off so violently that they lurched the horn out of the professor's hand and across the room, right to my feet. There was a loud, rumbling noise in the distance I picked up the horn. “Give that to me!” shouted Professor Lachlan, rage in his eyes. “Do what he says,” said Grex. “Do what he says right now!” I tossed the horn to the Professor, who caught it clumsily. Then the wall collapsed and an eight-ton, one-tusked elephant charged into the room, trampling Professor Lachlan beneath massive, murderous feet. The horn snapped beneath the pachyderm's massive weight as well. The elephant then began to fade away, still trumpeting and stomping at the gory yellow dress. Behind the hole in the wall as another hole in another wall, and another one behind it. That last hole was in the museum's outer wall. I left, trying to figure out just how a failed history student and her magic talking snake could earn a decent living it a world that only pretended to have not gone completely mad.
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# ? Sep 21, 2015 00:05 |
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# ? Oct 11, 2024 07:42 |
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The Strategist 570 words Prompt: The Lewis Chessmen “We are losing the war on all fronts,” said King Sverre, slamming his tankard against the tabletop. A wave of mead sloshed onto the tabletop and soaked through a corner of the map. His three generals slouched in their chairs. Prince Harald, age four, was in the corner, drawing on the floor with chalk. “You reported to me that the Archbishop was massing his army in the south, yet he advances on our supply routes from the east? How?” The King reached across the table and picked up a black bishop figurine. He clinked it against one of the small, white whalebone obelisks that represented his platoons. The obelisk clattered to the floor. Prince Harald dropped his chalk and ran to pick up the piece. One of the generals piped up: “Your Majesty--” “Silence! To make matters worse, the Bagler army ambushed a squadron of our most fearsome berserkers. I sent them to the location marked north of Trondheim, which you assured me would be secure until we could deploy reinforcements, but they were sitting ducks. Though they killed many of the cowardly attackers, my couriers report that none survived.” He picked up a red Bagler knight and knocked over a white berserker unit positioned in Ostmarka forest. Clink. “Papa, this is boring. I want to play,” said Prince Harald. The King patted his head and shooed him back to the corner. “There’s no time for that right now, son.” “Your Majesty, please! My recommendation was that the berserkers seek shelter in the caves three miles to the northwest of this position, where they would only need defend in one direction if discovered. I do not know why they were moved to the forest. It must have been General Tormund.” “I had nothing to do with the Baglers,” said General Tormund. “Probably done in your drunkenness last night,” roared King Sverre. “And worst of all, Tormund, at your recommendation, I had Queen Margaret sent from the castle to the safehouse near the shore, where she was promptly kidnapped by pirates and is being held for ransom in the Outer Hebrides.” He lifted the queen figurine from its position by the western shore and slammed it on the table, bouncing it end over end. It ricocheted off a general’s nose and onto the stone floor, where the Prince scooped it up. “She would have been safer here, you buffoons!” “We apologize, Your Majesty,” said General Magnus. “Whatever the cause, we cannot allow these failures in strategy to occur.” “I agree,” said King Sverre, “and the three of you will have plenty of time to think about your failures in the dungeon.” He rapped his knuckles on the table and a line of royal guardsmen brandishing heavy spears marched into the map room and took the generals away. There was a long silence after the incompetent generals were gone. “Papa, can we play now if you’re done working?” The King’s head ached with anger and frustration. “I’m afraid I’m not done working, yet,” he said, and he retired to his chambers. Having been left alone, Prince Harald tipped over one of the chairs around the table. Teetering precariously on the arm, he leaped to the next chair and then hoisted himself onto the tabletop. He emptied his pockets of the multicolored figurines and, sliding the pieces around the map, entertained himself once again with the wargames his father liked to play.
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# ? Sep 21, 2015 00:32 |