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What would be a good place to store those? (Scrounged from Mutt's Twitter, or rather, the tweet's copies on eir LJ.)
quote:Angry wolves were circling a rather glorious old oak. The treetop screamed "Suitov! HELP!" I considered simply strolling away.
Upon nagging his charge into getting some sleep, the bodyguard took out his knitting needles and magenta yarn. Finally. Peace.
"Turning into a dragon means you're evil," he declared with surety; "ever done that, Suitov?" "Not I. Never shall. So tawdry."
Fireflies are dancing about my head, but all I see is the leather-bound first edition that just passed by under a beautiful girl's arm.
#vss I don't care about the stupid hashtag. Just stop writing microfiction in which I get chased or eaten by slimy fangy monsters.
#vss The bulbous, oozing nightmare bore down on Weft. He fought like a fury, but the mucus was too viscous. Then it was on him and chewing.
They told him "You can be roasted on a slow fire and fed to the crows, or go back to working for Suitov." Weft had to think about that.
The natives had come to negotiate a ransom for Weft. "What do you want for him?" Suitov asked. "We'll give you 500 to take him back."
"How did they treat you, chum?" "Unprofessional, squeamish morons. Hah! They didn't even torture me," scoffed Weft with acidic disdain.
Weft found Suitov had put up "Missing: Have You Seen This Monk?" posters in his unexpected absence – and didn't speak to him all night.
"Who are you calling a kitty?" snapped Weft, glaring up from his ball of dusky rose eyelash yarn and hefting a needle with dire threat.
Suitov examined the 9mm thoughtfully. "You know, one could duplicate this more efficiently with a spell." "Even the bang?" "Of course."
She jammed it harder against his pansy ponytailled head: "I said talk!" "Pull that trigger and let's see what happens," offered Suitov.
(Nico would like to observe that this one makes her want to have that orchestrated with her as "she", so she can pull the trigger and see what happens.)
quote:If your ladyfriend grew up traumatised from fighting endless vampires, don't compliment her pretty neck, Suitov warned himself firmly.
Weft was not a man who bristled at criticism. He immediately apologised, said the fault was his, called himself a moron then shut up.
Weft was always irrationally annoyed when Suitov used corrugated steel in his analogies.
Sulking up a tree, running an angry hand through his hair and ignoring everyone, he wondered why they kept insulting him with "kitty!".
"I mean, if I did stab you, would you even bleed?" Suitov looked hurt at that, but it was probably faked.
He felt dragons should be graceful, not some wingless mutant of an ankylosaur and a crocodile. This may be why he was hiding up a tree.
I'd never seen Suitov lose it before the library burned. I saw what he did to those responsible. These days I wrap my books in velvet.
"Why are you convinced the dog is evil and wants to kill you?" "Because it's brown!" Suitov's bodyguard had an... 'individual' logic.
"Know what tastes nice?" "Babies?" asked Weft accusingly. "I was going," Suitov replied with limitless patience, "to say apple bitter."
"My my, a fire-breathing dinosaur." "Run, sir." "Don't be silly. I want to make friends wi–" "RUN, sir," said Weft, grabbing his arm.
Weft hope that this time, maybe THIS time, Suitov would meet another wizard without getting into a spectacular magic duel.
"That someone told it to you does not make it science," said Suitov patiently. Weft scowled. EVERYONE knew girls had girl germs!
Weft put his head round the door. "Did you miss me?" "You've only been gone nine minutes," said Suitov. "You noticed!" Weft chirped.
The monk rubbed his eyes. No, must have imagined it. If anyone came looking for a bedraggled half-elf, he'd say he hadn't seen a thing.
The islanders prostrated before an abashed Suitov. "Now you know how it feels!" gloated Weft. Oh, the weeks of merciless mockery ahead.
Someone asked Suitov about the spell code he was working on. He had to explain several times before they understood. Not a good sign.
Suspected cases:
quote:"This one time, I was killing this girl," I began, then stopped myself. For some reason he doesn't like anecdotes that begin like that.
Queasily, I realised she'd had her makeup tattooed onto her face. Who DOES that? I mean... what if those colours go out of fashion?
His bodyguard said "You're nice. I've had clients who made me walk silently behind, kneel by their feet and stuff." It broke his heart.
Suspected case #2 is not any of the fools in question. Just a random young lad.
Also, :D
I forgot Anke was collecting these. Maybe I should post 'em up in Solo Work or something. Ah well, meanwhile... more. Not in any kind of chronological order. Not all are strictly canon, but all at least could be. (Except for any that malign Miss Jade, of course.)
quote:Eighteen and in love, he made himself watch her walk off with that dolt Carstair. This called for a brandy and a VERY big book. #
"It'll drag you home to its young!" Weft screamed, hiding behind a boulder. "Weft," Suitov said patiently, "it is a tortoise." #
Basaltine knew nothing better than peanut-butter-and-marshmallow chocolates could possibly exist. Then - someone toasted one for him. #
Suitov put the stick down carefully. This one too had spontaneously burst into leaf. And all he wanted was to play fetch with his dog! #
"Nice ass, baby," a passing Amazon said. "I can stab you through the heart in three hundred and seventy different ways!!" he shrieked. #
He'd never seen a Firefly Squid, a scintillating deep-sea invertebrate. If he had, he'd recognise what the city looked like tonight. #
He still heard it in his dreams. When the night was humid and trees bowed and fingered the shingled roofs. He still heard the clucking. #
(I think that marks my first Sebbie fanfic. Or the first one I'd admit to.)
quote:"Want to use my shower?" "Why," he laughed, "have you got hidden cameras in there?" "Er... no, of course not," Jaina said. #
Doc snapped "YES, he has blood; NO, it's not water." Rumours! If he WAS bloodless, she thought, he'd not be such a baby about needles. #
A hallucinogenic poison that showed us our greatest desires. After we shook it off, Weft wouldn't talk about it or meet my eyes. #
He strolled invisibly across the lake surface, stepped through a solid wall and killed their CO. If you ask me, that mage is a showoff. #
Suitov didn't often talk in his sleep, so his bodyguard was alarmed when he mumbled "kisses like wine; white with fish, red with meat". #
(Author had just seen the Sleep Talkin' Man blog for the first time. It's hilarious!)
quote:Weft sighed. "Suitov, I don't WANT to know about my parents. I know all I need to: they didn't love me. Why should I care about them?" #
Her lips were warm and wet on his bare skin. "Mmmm. Clean sheets, clean man." "Clean man thinking very dirty thoughts," Suitov grinned. #
He swiped a pancake from the top of the stack with a practised flick of the muzzle. Such a pity paws can't open syrup bottles. #
Just when he thought he'd sneaked out, Suitov asked "And where are you off to with that lighter?" "Um... t-to a... concert, sir?" #
Nimbly, he smashed the bottle and wielded it in a perfect Ninth Guard. Then he realised she'd only asked the time. He cringed. "Sorry." #
Is it better to rip your enemy's every nerve fibre out through his skin, or make him think you've done it? Suitov liked to alternate. #
Suitov took care that certain of his spells could not be traced back to him, even if decompiled. Oddly, Poison 1.0 wasn't one of those. #
Despite its achingly hip name, the Poison spell was just a colour library Suitov had written a few years ago, researching illusions. #
"I am NOT in love with him," said Weft. "I know it for a fact, because he hasn't died horribly yet." Was that disappointment? #
"You may leave if you like," said the senior monk, opening the door to freedom. Weft blinked in the light and scooted back to his cell. #
(That last written in response to a prompt of "freedom")
quote:"But snakes are fish." "No they aren't." "But they breathe underwater!" "No they don't." "Well, my religion says they do," said Weft. #
"Mad mage! Mad mage!" Men scattered as stone walls disintegrated. Suitov stepped through. Mad? He wasn't even all that annoyed. (Yet.) #
Life is good for a magician's pet hellhound. True, folks get scared, but not the ones that matter. Patchie down the lane? She loves me. #
Ferrl bit her cheek determinedly. The foreign quartet was playing Throk Nur, filthiest folk song in existence, without a hint of irony. #
(Totally not a real roccoa phrase. I just made it up for comic effect.)
Experimenting with triplets...
quote:"Do you go on about how she has a byootiful white neck like a swan's?" "Inadvisable. The last swan we saw was undead and attacking us." #
"Have you screwed up yet and called her after your latest book instead of her name?" "I don't love books to the exclusion of ALL else!" #
Has she admitted yet that she just wants you for your money?" "Why are you so determined we're dysfunctional?" "...'Cause I hate her!" #
Apparently the monk was serious. If Ferrl called him a slut, even as a joke, he'd have to go before a tribunal. Bah! Religious nutters! #
The monk slapped her face. He had to stand on tiptoe to do it. How was Ferrl to know "roll up your sleeves" was a religious insult? #
"You army types have such stupid rules," said the monk. "I am basking in the irony," said Ferrl, scratching the seat of her trousers. #
Weft knew a lot about women: he'd killed loads of them. And yet, somehow, that didn't help him make small talk on a date. #
She was a pleasant date: black-haired, witty and obviously interested in him. Weft squirmed inside, wishing he could kill her already. #
Over dessert, Weft's target boasted of the location of the drop, so she died still not rich and he left still never having been kissed. #
"Why've all your funny stories got stabbings in 'em?" asked the boss's hellhound. "I... they say tell what you know," blushed Weft. #
"And then the boss waved his arms and melted their horsefuckin' fortress to slag!" recounted Ferrl, waving her beer so hard it spilled. #
"And that's how we solved the kernel issue in Hazelnut 0.8," concluded Suitov, sighing at the snoring audience. Magery could be lonely. #
"I hate you to the very core of my being," said Weft. The dog replied "Yeah, well you smell like a kitty." "Yeah well, you just smell!" #
"Dear Frerene, The weather continues hot. My bodyguard keeps attacking my dog. Since you ask, tall hats are in fashion. Yours, Suitov." #
"Dear Rigey, What do you mean, attacking your dog? Does he playfight with dear Basaltine? I must meet this bodyguard of yours. Frerene" #
Rather than reply, Suitov picked him up telekinetically and threw him into the ocean. "W-will he survive that?" asked Weft. "Doubtful." #
A pliosaur poked its nose out of the water, found the struggling treat and snapped it up. Suitov watched impassively. Weft looked away. #
"Suitov... would you feed me to monsters if I annoyed you?" "Should your death be necessary, a clean neck break will do." "Thanks sir." #
And, well, this one's a quartet.
quote:Mags sheathed her rapier and mopped her brow. Her groaning opponent staggered off. He'd hoped her offer of a workout was a euphemism... #
The perfect marriage. They never spoke; Mags led his troops; he entertained her mother. She'd met his lover. He didn't know about hers. #
Mags was a mediocre Rockaferry player, but did all right provided she could play as White. Or cheat while her opponent bought drinks. #
Her cackling laugh earned her the sobriquet 'The Magpie Countess'. Mags obliged by dressing in black and white and laughing often. #
A questionable case or two to keep you guessing:
quote:"I wish this dog were a man." Nothing changed. "I'm all man, baby," said the dog. "I meant a human man!" "Shoulda been more specific." #
"All I'm saying," the dog declared, "is that the sign says Nudist Beach and I'm not wearing anything, so what's the big deal?" #
He could save the world (for a while). The price:his life. He gazed at his favourite painting. What if he hadn't the courage to choose? #
Rarely, he had flashbacks to his time trapped under the rubble. Was something in him knocked loose then? Was that why he loved to kill? #
In the mirror he saw the ghost of his former self: a young man, shyly smiling, hopeful for love. He started avoiding mirrors. #
Tiny simian forms were thudding down onto the forest floor as he passed. He made a note. "Soporific effects stronger than anticipated." #
And one that's unrelated to any of my Pro characters, just because I liked it.
quote:The Avatar watched the destruction from the hilltop. In his arms he held the only person worth saving from the sinful town. She yapped. #
More Twitter #vss
Pro-related
After the Institute engineered sapient dogs, a pre-adolescent pup founded her own micronation, the Kingdom of Fluffypaws, in the quad. #
(100% canon. For reals. Fear her.)
"Why's that succubus so obsessed with you?" Suitov wasn't sure how to answer that. Any guess would sound horrifically self-centred. #
"I mean, you've never slept with it, right? ...Have you?" said the monk, worried. "Of course not - and she's a she," Suitov snapped. #
"It was a fuss over nothing." "Nothing? You SMILED at the ambassador!" "So?" "As if you were equals! And then you smiled at the COOK!" #
"Your point?" "My point is you can't go smiling at everyone like some kind of... of smile slut!" "Smile slut?" "...well, or something." #
"I don't see that it matters. I'm already an 'alien', which makes me the lowest form of life." "No. Trust me, you can always go lower." #
"Should I stick to shaking hands?" "Oh grace, no! You'll use the wrong hand on purpose and that's worse!" "Weft, you're a spoilsport." #
"It's my job to stop you dying, which as far as I'm concerned includes social suicide." "Then I'm sorry. This won't be easy for you." #
The dead man in his head sometimes spoke of equality, of freedom for slaves, of justice. Weft was used to it, though, and ignored him. #
Dearest Jaina, A colony of vampires demanded your whereabouts amidst threats of death. Please find enclosed approx 60kg ash. Suitov xx #
One of Lord Suitov's tenants wrote in to an agricultural journal with a correction. The writer bemoaned "pedantry among the peasantry". #
(Also 100% canon. In this case, the peasant royally pwned the scholar, amusing WearingSocks no end in the process.)
Weft had known arrogant prats who liked to "give the other chap a sporting chance". Suitov wasn't one. If he wanted you dead, you died. #
Suitov said ending a life wasn't a game; "anything less than a quick, clean kill degrades the dignity of all concerned." Weft shrugged. #
"We're always taught that toying with our victims is a sin," he said. Suitov showed interest. "For what reason?" "It just is, I think." #
"How like a dirty KITTY to have to be told not to play with 'is food," sneered the dog from across the room. "I'm not a-!" yowled Weft. #
Poets of more than one gender had serenaded Suitov. He was gracious, but whenever "stormy grey eyes" came up he inwardly rolled them. #
May or may not be Pro-related
She teased him with the feather until he made a lucky grab, confiscated it and then turned her weapon against her. Sheets tangled. #
Not Pro-related
"This Earthling is ancient predator evolved into parasite." Mnemplulx tapped its monitor. "We know not what jingly bell collar is for." #
Plump as a pudding and twice as stodgy, the old cat peered over her glasses. "And what experience have you in the mousing business?" #
I may have missed some - for some reason the Twitter crossposting has stopped working.
Suitov's future plans were... thorough. "That can wait til I'm no longer young and angry." You can have too much perspective, Weft mused. #This last one prompted a brief Twitter discussion...
People on his world used horses and sailboats. Steam was years away. Yet someone had shown Suitov a laser and he wasn't giving it back. #
The dog, albeit foul-minded, was harmless enough. Still, ancient instincts in Weft's hindbrain urged him to flee. Possibly up a tree. #
"It isn't anaemia," he said - and I could hear in his voice the hundreds of times he must've had to explain it. "I was born this pale." #
"You can't kill gods. They're gods." "Has anyone tried?" asked Suitov, who was probably just being deliberately contrary. Probably. #
"I meant standing-wave diffraction in a *metaphorical* sense," said Suitov, as if that was meant to clarify anything. #
Suitov would uncannily guess what you were thinking. Amazing observational powers, they whispered. He didn't admit he was just psychic. #
There was a game among his generals. It was called "how will milord Suitov fake his own death to avoid a portrait sitting THIS week?" #
More "might be one of my regulars but I'm not telling"s:
"Stand closer and smile at him," said the portrait artist, "or nobody will be able to tell you're lovers." "We're WHAT?" he shrieked. #
What others saw as his increasing mood swings or volatility, I knew to be the first sputtering gasps of a broken spirit healing itself. #
He had the occasional flash of inspiration. This was one such. It said: shut up, drink the poison, say nothing about acquired immunity. #
I've gone much heavier on the Suitov-related ones recently because one or two people said they wanted to see more of him. Hopefully they haven't yet realised that he's actually extremely boring.
A prompt to write a VSS about "chemistry" prompted me to re-tell this sequence in Rigey's/Rige's/Suitov's life...
Young Rigey declared that he wanted to be an agrochemist and not a warlord. He was barred from the library as punishment. #theprompt #I have a written sequence in mind for his wanting-to-be-an-actor phase, but it's largely character study, and I'm not sure how interesting that would be...
A few years later young Rige was expected to take up the blade. He didn't complain. But his fencing tutors resigned, one after another. #
At nine years old, Rige made sure his father didn't learn of his acting ambitions. His actor and playwright pals were sworn to secrecy. #
Eleven-year-old Rige loved his new little sister dearly. He made her toy soldiers and taught her military strategy with her teddybears. #
As if to spite twelve-year-old Rige, his family died, leaving him sole heir to the Suitov lordship. He was furious. Absolutely livid. #
More of the usual one-liners and banter:
"Suitov, why don't you remember any theology I teach you except the contradictory parts? I-I mean the parts YOU say are contradictory." #
Suitov tossed him a polished stone. "Please tell me when it starts getting warm. Don't worry, I think I've solved the explosion issue." #
Dear Tilly, know you can't read but I miss you. Your gorgeous scent and silky tail. When my cone collar comes off we shall reunite. Bxx #
Dozen élite battlemages and he throws ME to them. Martial arts instructor? What's he think I can teach them? It's official, HE HATES ME #
As they faltered, he quietly said "So. They think they can outwit Shade's finest, eh?" And they rallied. It really was expertly judged. #
"If you liked her, Suitov, you should've put a ring on her." "My pride limited how many times I could propose!" "Oh, how many?" "194." #
And an obligatory unrelated-but-cute one:
The translucent dragon perched on his shoulder, chirping. How cute! But he found it less so when its larval young burst from his neck. #
"If you liked her, Suitov, you should've put a ring on her." "My pride limited how many times I could propose!" "Oh, how many?" "194."
That one is made of awesome. <3
Thank you. He wants to know why you like it so...
Nothing to do with him personally.
Ah, must be Weft's quoting Beyoncé then. *halo*
More like, anything that goes against "a guy is ENTITLED to end up with his chosen love interest" is good. :D
He would have thought you'd consider a fellow still pining over his first love to be the stuff of pink-jacketed fiction.
In any case, a guy LESS controlling of his romantic interests would be hard to find. I mean, I get tired of company quite quickly and like having time to myself, but even I wouldn't date Jaina.
Only if she pines over her, too, and they hook up and are happily ever after together.
Which, I guess, isn't impossible yet.
"Well, she's never asked me to stop proposing. I merely gave up, then met someone else. As for pining over me, you should ask her, but I think it unlikely. With Malfina the pining tends to go in one direction. We are talking about a definite pine gradient here. She is a poenal north pole. If you follow me."
quote:As they faltered, he quietly said "So. They think they can outwit Shade's finest, eh?" And they rallied. It really was expertly judged. #
Dozen élite battlemages and he throws ME to them. Martial arts instructor? What's he think I can teach them? It's official, HE HATES ME #
Dear Tilly, know you can't read but I miss you. Your gorgeous scent and silky tail. When my cone collar comes off we shall reunite. Bxx #
Suitov tossed him a polished stone. "Please tell me when it starts getting warm. Don't worry, I think I've solved the explosion issue." #
"Love me, love my dog. Not, it goes without saying, in the same way." #
Basaltine's CV read "Competent herder. Outstanding scenting and stamina. Good team player." He added, hopefully, "popular with women." #
And one lateral thinking exercise...
quote:"What's the problem here?" "There's no bridge." "Wrong. Try again." "We're on this side and need to be there." "Closer; keep trying..." #
Cue follow-ups:
Anke: "There's a river in the way"? #
Ves, simultaneously: "There's a river there"? #
*Suitov pats them both encouragingly on the head...* #
Anke: Yay for landscaping, I guess #
Vespers: well, if rige's the one asking, then the actual problem obviously is that he's out having to deal with problems in his research time #
Vespers: which is all the time. right? #
Mutt: @Anke One mage settled on "we can't walk through rivers" as the root problem, one on "enemy isn't here", etc. They were sent to solve them. #
Mutt: @Ves Out having to school his elites in lateral thinking, also. Weft decided root problem was "why aren't we back in a nice tidy city". #
quote:He breathed on the marigold. Frost marched across the petals and the flower bowed its white head. "Ooh! Pretty!" said his bodyguard. #
Weft tried to convince him it wasn't normal to refer to selling books as "rehoming", or buying as "adoption". #
Sheena's sword lay out of reach of her good arm. "Why, prey tell, should I spare you?" the mage said. He didn't mean "pray". #theprompt #
Ferrl leapt off her horse at a canter, then spent several minutes clutching her ankle and screaming words never before heard at court. #
"I see the delegation from Applestone request again that book-burning be classified as murder." "Lord Justice, if we may..." "Denied!" #
Love was not subjective ENOUGH for Suitov. He thought she was the most wonderful woman in the world. Too many others agreed. #
Suitov brought the dragon seasonal fruit from his homeland. Given the dragon's native climate, they ended up playing marbles with it. #
Suitov gently parted his lips with finger and thumb. Weft groused "Will you ftop *fussing*? My teef'll grow back, honeftly. Always do." #
"Why in the worlds did a horse knock your premolars out anyway?" asked Suitov. "I'd juft affafinated itf rider," the monk shrugged. #
"But couldn't you write a spell to blow bubbles for you?" Suitov lay back, dipped his looped wire in the soap and blew. "Why?" he said. #
The willow said "But we aren't weeping. It's laughter." "Oh. I beg your pardon," said Suitov. The tree mused "Well, at least he asked." #
Probably Suitov:
quote:She had to learn two dead alphabets in order to discover that the document she'd stolen was a shopping list. And not an important one. #
"I hate everyone thinking we're sleeping together!" "I dislike the assumption that I only keep you around because you're good in bed." #
Possibly Pro-related:
quote:"Look Vssthsthsxths, I can't teach you in a human-scale cockpit." "Just work the controls, Frank," said the dragon; "I'll remember." #
Not Pro-related:
quote:Ducklings paddled, quacking, around their mummy duck. Steve adjusted the dummy's feathers. Their real mother was dead along with Earth. #
Typical cheerful trio featuring Weft:
(Written entirely because the image of the rifle butt whacking the side of his head has been bothering me for months. I dunno either.)
quote:A rifle butt hit Weft's skull with a crunch. Ha, he thought, won't break me that way... Losing consciousness, he was flung into a cell. #
"I won't talk, I'm conditioned to resist interrogation, so get stuffed." "Let's see if you're that cocky afterward." Turned out he was. #
After Weft carved his way out of the terrorists' captivity in a skein of bloody screams, he derided their failures to his fellow monks. #
(prompt of "thunderous") I'm pretty sure that's the aftermath of "Damp feet do not help with hangovers". He doesn't exactly go back to the palace very often if he can help it. This would be at a time when he's not seeing Jaina, either.
quote:He unstuck his eyelids, alarmed by the thunderous roar of a maid tiptoeing past. What... oh, right. Fi. And all that brandy. #theprompt #
Definitely Ishtar's M.O. The Earthling is just a nameless stooge as far as I'm aware.
quote:The demoness leaned down to him and blew her bubble gum. It burst close to his face with a minty pop. Suddenly he knew the password. #
Not any of mine as far as I know:
quote:They called her cradle-snatcher, cougar and other unpleasant names because she liked men in their 20s. But she did look young for 760. #
Not any of mine, I'm quite sure:
quote:At last they fell into each other's arms. Actually they would have done so a lot sooner, but wanted to tease the slash-loving fangirls. #
Love the prompt-based one. I hope at least the evening before was fun.
I'm afraid not. Heavy drinking ⇒ coping with rejection.
(I get the impression both are pretty rare; probably why he acts like such a baby about them.)
Yeah, I didn't pay attention to the "aftermath of..." bit. My bad.
(prompt of "carve")
quote:"I love you," said Weft to the sunrise. "I loved you, you know that? How I loved you. But then, that just makes it worse, doesn't it?" #
The diplomat monk smiled. "The question is not *whether* Brother Weft here will carve you a new belly button. It's *where*." #theprompt #
(practice in non-omniscience, I think)
quote:He avoided letting Suitov see him return from missions. The trembling and nausea were childish after-effects that had never gone away. #
Weft never showed his face directly after 'jobs'. Suitov was thankful. He would find it difficult to conceal his loathing of assassins. #
Basaltine was aware of the monk's post-murderous fits of nausea. He kept it to himself. Kitty self-hatred was none of a dog's concern. #
quote:Weft snuggled in his blanket. Suitov painted slithering coils of colour across the night sky, an unfathomable message for eyes unknown. #
*makes note of Suitov as possible real reason for UFO sightings*
Pro-related
prompt of "seeds"
quote:"But Weft, carrots GROW from seeds." "Maybe on your crazy planet, sir. Back home in civilisation they come from the market." #theprompt #
Suitov isn't very receptive to Weft's religion. He has his reasons.
quote:"'So all-surpassing is his love that he giveth up not only life, yea but his very soul'... don't scoff, Suitov, it's important to me." #
quote:"Gents, better to have loved and los-" "Don't finish that," said Weft. "Yes, don't," said Mellown. They looked at each other curiously. #
Suitov cultivated the habit of decapitating each fatality. This'll be tricky to unlearn when I reach an undead-free planet, he thought. #
Prompt of "mask"
quote:"You sneer," said Qez affectionately, "to mask the fact that you thirst for freedom and truth as I do." "Whatever," I said. #theprompt #
I'm proud to say that this was retweeted by three separate people who, as far as I know, don't even know who the characters are. Bibliophile psychopaths unite!
quote:"So there's a book and a child in a burning house and you can only save one. Which?" said Weft. Suitov hesitated. "Is anyone watching?" #
Don't forget to answer the super-scientific poll on this topic!
quote:Sex equality resulted in almost as many women as men in the army. Fighting women meant often-drunk and libidinous women. Weft hated it. #
"If people from single-sex backgrounds can't relate to other sexes- you think he's a virgin, girls?" Weft vanished before anyone asked. #
Anyway, it wasn't that Weft was inadequately socialised or prejudiced against women. He simply knew they were all insane, sinful ogres. #
prompt of "destined"
quote:On Instar, souls are considered the same as fate. A soulmate is the one you are destined to love. But not necessarily like. #vss #theprompt #
quote:"I wrote an interesting spel-" "Does it DO anything other than move numbers around, Suitov?" "Numbers are important, Weft." "So... no." #
Not-Pro
She's running a risk that he might enjoy that, of course.
quote:"I'm old enough to smack your bottom," she said. "Stop calling me a wench." #
I'm never too sure how obscure I'm being with the ol' imagery - for me, a female by a tree is evocative on its own, while "the serpent strolled" is downright obvious, but other people's mileage may vary... Anyway, people seemed to get and enjoy this one.
quote:She was by that tree again. The serpent strolled over. "Waiting for ssomething?" "I've identified a loophole," she said. "Windfalls." #
Always interesting to see what people retweet, too. (Retweeting is, in effect, showing someone else's tweet to your followers.) One or two people went for the Instar/soulmate one. Considering I changed the punchline on impulse at the last minute, it's doubly interesting.
Pro-related
More fun with Instarrians:
quote:On Instar, husbands protect their families physically, wives protect emotionally. It may be relevant that Instar's whores are all male. #
Instarrian romantic fiction for women seemed to revolve around finding the perfect man, then changing him. That'd always puzzled Weft. #
More ordinary happenings in the life of Suitov:
quote:His bodyguard peeped over his shoulder. "What's floating point?" Suitov explained. "Oh. Not to do with water?" "No." "Good. Carry on." #
A mad prophet in camp yelled "Lord Suitov is a myth! A lie!" Suitov tore his lungs out of his nostrils. He resented having to do that. #
After Suitov was obliged to kill someone, he'd find Weft shadowing him like a silent housepet. Worse, he got the sense Weft *approved*. #
More death and danger and things:
quote:What he thought were angels circled his head, singing shrill canticles. Weft looked again. Well, that explained it. They were vultures. #
More... er:
Canon. Use this knowledge wisely.
quote:Weft's melting point was the nape of his neck. Gently squeeze it and he'd melt. #
Not-Pro
quote:"Mum, this chatroom dating is ridiculous. You could have any man." "Exactly. I want him to like me for me." "Ridiculous." "Hush, Eros." #
"What were those things?" "We've never seen anything like them." "'We'?" "Er...royal we." Nice recovery, snarked the voice in her head. #
Pro-related
quote:Suitov left the council in grim silence. Soon: "Someone should give that idiot a talking-to." "And do what with the body?" asked Weft. #
"Ice, you young sod! Still consorting with brownbloods?" "Apparently." "Look! I taught your bodyguard to sit up and beg." "Stop that." #
Not-Pro
quote:Monotheism was punishable by death. The inquisitors, preternaturally, could tell by ear between "for Gods' sake" and "for God's sake". #
He coaxed the standoffish cat onto his knee and felt victorious, masterly. Then he remembered he didn't like cats. Too late. Purring. #
Prof. Swibrugge finally managed the breakthrough of the millennium: entropy was reversed. Burning her toast had annoyed her THAT MUCH. #
Though he interviewed well, Croft didn't get the job. Civilian life was hard. Having his arms replaced with MP5s seemed less smart now. #
Pro-related
quote:"I've wondered, why are mages all...?" "Fat?" "Fat or skinny or otherwise odd-looking." "Late nights and weird schedules is my guess." #
Weft didn't know what a zero day exploit was, but he guessed he was glad Suitov's mages had found it before someone else did. #
Yeah, I'm shameless.
quote:Suitov surreptitiously blew on his soup. He appreciated the gesture of making delegates' local dishes, but it ought to be served cold. #
(Wikipedia: "Some soups are served only cold, and other soups can optionally be served cold.")
quote:Weft laboriously read the name. "The...Metch- uh...Mekkanics...of War." A bestseller, he bet. A staple at warlord-mage-geek book clubs. #
He's right, although if he'd looked closely, he would've realised this was a well-preserved, rather old copy.
More abuse of Weft:
quote:If you looked up "dependent personality" in the dictionary you'd find a picture of Weft, which would beg you not to turn the page. #
"Weft didn't complain about riding. How'd you do it, Dolahan?" "I told him horses are operated by screaming if you want to go faster." #
"Assassin, don't you *mind* being treated like a commodity?" Weft stretched, considering that. He said "At least I'm an expensive one." #
Laffent Ferrl, sex goddess of the sweary-and-drunk variety:
quote:Ferrl didn't rein in until she was almost level with the departing skiff's gangplank. She didn't want to waste one second of her leave. #
They thought Ferrl had developed an abnormal interest in dressage until they saw her coax her horse to side-pass onto Sammet's foot. #
Sammet Ferrl is Laffent's brother.
quote:"As a valued client you're entitled to 5 assassinations for 4." Lord Parchveins bared his fangs and shook the monk's hand. #theprompt #
Prompt of "entitled". I reckon Parchveins is from Larkspur, where self-styled titles are common among powerful undead. (Other than this, I've no idea what Parchy's deal is, so Vespy can have him if he wishes.)
quote:Damn fox was too fast. It had left Baron Garfdale's lands and entered the no-hunting zone. It stopped, turned and barked smugly at him. #
Garfdale shares a border with Applestone. The fox was fully aware of this.
Not Pro-related
quote:The most interesting stalls here offer single words inked on unicorn vellum. An insult can kill, if spoken in the Old Language. #
Pro-related
quote:"Your supposed relatives made you jump in an icy river, Suitov?" "It's part of the hot springs routine." "Or so they told you, dupe." #
"He and I aren't right together, Weft." "Yeah. He's a slob." "You think I should break it off?" "..." Weft winced and crossed his legs. #
Subtitle: Weft regrets giving Ferrl relationship advice.
quote:"It stood up at me!" "Do you mean reared at you?" "Yes! I don't know! It stood on its legs and looked dangerous!" "It's a lamb, Weft." #
"Don't blind me with taxonomy. The thing's potentially deadly - it's my job to protect you." "Protect me from a lamb?" "From yourself!" #
"Weft, I've been handling lambs since I was three. Look..." "Yaaai! It's eating your hand!" "Sucking my finger. Have we a milk bottle?" #
"I'm not feeding a man-eating little monster so it can grow bigger and come back for y-" "Herbivore." "What?" "Sheep are plant-eaters." #
The subsequent pun is actually not Suitov and Weft, but occurred to me immediately after I posted that quartet and I was too weak not to add it. As if that were ever in question.
quote:"What do you want lambs for?" "I thought I'd raise two pairs of males to pull a cart." "Why?" "So I can upgrade to a four-gig of rams." #
quote:"You mean you're proud to have evolved from a monkey?" "Why would I be proud? I can't claim any credit." "But..." "But I am delighted." #
"Weft, are you seriously suggesting I buy a new outfit to match my wrapping paper?" "Pff, your lordship! You call yourself a nobleman?" #
"Taught." "Sir?" "You were taught, not trained. Sapients you teach; you train dumb animals." Weft considered. "I think I was trained." #
Not Pro-related
(And honestly, I'm flexible on the accent.)
quote:"Babe, I'm not cheating on you, I swear!" "Loki, you're the father of LIES. Besides which, you're obviously pregnant." "I can explain!" #
"I just want someone to play Toad to my Magneto, Harley to my Joker..." "Igor to your Frankenstein?" "Well, minus the accent," I said. #
quote:The aliens had segmented bodies, nine limbs. Yet they still built snowmen shaped like figure-8s, two stick arms. This disturbed him. #
I keep making attempts at squeezing Nightmare Fuel into tweet size...
quote:I wish Annie would stop claiming our baby has been changed. It's upsetting the nurse and my sleep. I suppose it's some woman problem. #
It's not Roy's war at all. Suitov just doesn't like him.
quote:Roy IX wasn't a tyrant;well, no more than expected. It was just that his petty interplanetary war disrupted Suitov's important studies. #
quote:Rigey showed up late to breakfast, triumphant and muddy. "Hypothesis proven," he announced. The frog on his shoulder did not comment. #
Lord Suitov Iceheart arrived early to the war council, clean and triumphant. The basilisk on his shoulder was deconstructing a Twinkie. #
Prompt of "midnight"
quote:Though midnight was the vogue for secret liaisons, Suitov and the Magpie Countess concocted their intrigues on sunlit lawns. #theprompt #
quote:(often, it has to be said, while she beat him at tennis) #vss #addendum
quote:"I wouldn't push you from the path of a speeding train, even to save the train." The rhino didn't react. Weft hoped it was hurt inside. #
Non-Pro:
There was a miniature vogue for posting 'scary' New Year shorts, so I happily joined in.
quote:He sat alone in his room with a chair wedged under the doorknob. His children and grandchildren pounded and chanted "Out with the old". #
In which you can tell it's not Pro because seven's not a magic number in my 'verse. ;)
quote:He crept over and over into the witch's garden, stealing strawberries one by one. They wouldn't release his mate till he had 7 bushels. #
Non-Pro and N.B. possibly scary:
quote:His hair: long, silky and caught in the drain. He thrashes, shouts bubbles, lips impossible inches from the surface. Nobody is helping. #
I must keep staring into the bowl of black water or she'll replace my eyes with hers. But if I don't turn, what's behind me will get me #
They danced at Jeff's bound feet, singing "Hosanna, Hosanna" and sharpening their knives. The women brought out their babies to watch. #
Pro-related
(Am thinking afterwards that "Yes brother. Everyone says so" would have fit better. Never mind.)
quote:One quartermaster had written "my husband" under "Acceptable losses". The general wrote transfer papers. Let Suitov deal with this one. #
"What sort of loving family makes you repeat prayers about how worthless you are?" "Mine!" said Weft, sure this was an argument-winner. #
Suitov trained a parrot to say "Really?", "Why?" and "Tell me more". Given to friends, 'Amazing Eliza' became a famous psychiatrist. #
"Aliens love their sin," Weft was told. "They're proud to be cruel and barbarous and can't change." Schools planetwide taught the same. #
"We'll say he beats you senseless each night and leaves you to cry yourself to sleep." "But elder brother, he doesn't." "Irrelevant." #
"You know aliens are brutal don't you? Everyone says so." "Yes brother." "So it's right to lie that he beats you. We must warn people." #
quote:Weft was the sort of man who, on seeing a murder or disaster, assumed the victims deserved it. This included his own murders-to-order. #
In answer to a prompt of 'romantic', though with no room for #theprompt tag:
(An addendum)
quote:This week on Lauzia's Next Extramarital Lover: she spurns the roses and smiles on the romantic who brings her a small, drab, rare book. #
Other
An "inspired by guess which mutant superhero comic" duo (first one from a prompt of "million" and/or "faces"):
quote:A million faces swam before her. She concentrated and found the required one. All she need do was plant a teensy suggestion. #theprompt #
"This is one of them moments, right? A, y'know, epic choice." The flaming bird waited. It knew the boy would accept its offer of power. #
A "sexism" trio:
quote:The author opened another letter. Dear Mr RK Thomson, it read, why do you write so many strong female characters? "Mr?" she said aloud. #
Margot's motto was: "Behind every great man is a good woman supporting him. Behind every great woman is a jealous man undermining her." #
"Why the hell do women all wanna change their 'perfect' men?!" /perfection for males is static/for females it is dynamic/? suggested VX. #
And other randoms
quote:Thor knocked more forcefully. "Loki, how long can it take you to give my wife a haircut?" "Genius can't be rushed darling," called Sif. #
At the spooky party there was a cute coder who understood his "feature creep" costume without explanation. He assumed he was dreaming. #
"Explain sexual intercourse." She did. He concluded "It sounds unsightly and unsanitary." "You won't need to worry about it," she said. #
"Fifty gold a DAY, Private Fssthvsthssvs? Do I look like I'm made of money?" "No," Fssthvsthssvs smiled smokily, "you're made of meat." #
Arguziel is studded with eyes. He shadows care homes, where desperate daughters sell their sight to postpone dementia and get Mum back. #
When he said he was an "agnomancer" and people said "oh, lambs!" he didn't correct them. He used them. Agnōsia: Greek for ignorance. #
Wordlessly, she parted her legs, inviting him to slip his hand down to her most secret area. Then she dug in all 18 claws and bit him. #
Also, teh trolololz.
quote:Weft: Ree ma'am please will you tell Suitov that religious brothers are NOT slaves and there's a plethora of differences? He's being awkward. #
Ree: Maybe if you could name one... #
Weft: Slaves get made state property as punishment for being bad people and public safety. If you're born religious you get given to (cont) #
Weft: the Expressors as lawful chattel because you're pernicious and need to be controlled so you won't harm anyone. It's TOTALLY DIFFERENT. #
Ree: Different causes, different owners, but same result: people owned by other people. #
Weft: We're not owned, we give our service willingly, and the Divine isn't a person, It is the source of all Deity. Totally different. #
Ree: I was refering to the Church higher-ups, not your Deity. #
Weft: But... all of us belong to the Divine too. And we're not allowed to own things so how can we own each other? That doesn't make sense. #
Pro-related
quote:He waves away countless millennia of survival instincts. They are wrong. Clearly the thing to do is to pet the giant slavering reptile. #
quote:"She's checking you out," said Weft. "She isn't even looking at me," Suitov said. "Not at your face," said Weft, glancing at his rear. #
Other
quote:First they came for the nerds, and I'm not a nerd but I know how this goes, so I resisted furiously. Now stuck in a cell full of nerds. #
quote:He sat imprisoned in his doorless tower, combing his hundred-yard-long hair, singing to his birdie friends the sweet melodies of Ozzy. #
quote:"I did it Reynolds! Synthetic bacon with perfect flavour and tex-" "Sally no, don't say any-" Too late; the Pork Board assassin struck. #
quote:"Why won't anyone love me?" he wailed. "Because whenever someone does, you murder them! That's pretty effective Darwinism!" "Oh. Shit." #
quote:The milk's separated. It's all I have to last the week; I throw it at the many-legged beast and flee the alley. It can keep the tuffet. #
quote:Little Bo Peep had lost her sheep. "They're micwochipped," she said, sitting down next to Boy Blue and offering him a jammie dodger. #
quote:OCD Andy arranged his dinner guests, alternating by gender. He lost a lot of friends when he yelped "Women should stay in their place!" #
And became Lord Mayor of London.
quote:Everyone paid into the office sweep but Dick, who hadn't the cash. Tired of being poor, one week he put in his cat. He won 250000 cats. #
Random tweetin'
quote:Weft: Is smoot the past participle of smote, or is it smited? #
Basaltine: In your case it's "smitten" #
Weft: What I've got so far is "Despite their many differences, Valdemar, Felix and Suitov each leave a swathe of smitten enemies..." #
Basaltine: You've got that right. You've got that so right. #
Anke: If you're not sure you could go with "vanquished" instead. Or "dead", depending what you want to say. #
Weft: Is there a word for "mangled to a point where you can't tell if he's alive or dead through the aftershock and ringing in your ears"? #
Anke: Closest I can think of is "mutilated". #
Weft: The closest thing I could think was "oh my grace, oh my grace, that was amazing and terrifying and hideous and awe-inspiring, help!" #
(tbc)...
Non-Pro
(The joke is that the Mail is very much in the grip of its own beautiful dream. One without blacks, gays, liberals, Jews or women daring to want jobs, where everyone knows all the verses of God Save the Queen, not just the first three lines, and you can smoke and shoot poor people wherever you damn well please.)
quote:She scoffed at his Arthurian romance novel. "Still pining for your mythical, perfect Albion?" she sneered, picking up her Daily Mail. #
quote:The Dalek had read the WHOLE web.
"You are a Cy-ber-man?"
"Yes."
"Male."
"Yes."
"Then male is your-?"
"Cybersex."
The Dalek sniggered. #
On Correspondence
quote:Suitov: "Dear Lord Suitov. Re: your magnificent arse..." Yes, well done, you've wasted an envelope all by yourself. (there is a war on, you know) #
Basaltine: "Dear Suitov's dog, we think you are so dishy, please send us a picture..." Gladly my dears, but I do have a name of my own you know. #
Weft: "To: the so-called INSTARian c/o: the alien Iceheart. How dare you offer succour to an enemy of INSTAR, debased whore..." I hate hate mail. #
Suitov: Weft, I order you to disregard any correspondence written in green ink on lavender paper that has been moistened with flecks of spit. #
...
Weft: Some madwoman wrote and said I'm destined to be hers and she's coming to find me. Scared. Suitov, how do you stand these stalker freaks? #
Suitov: Funny, that doesn't look like a woman's handwr-- Never mind. These types enjoy spreading panic. I shan't let anyone molest you. #
Weft: As long as you don't expect me to fall for that protective hero routine and be all grateful. *falls for it every. Single. Time* #
Suitov: I would never embarrass us both by expecting gratitude and loyalty from you. I know they go against your nature. #
Weft: You know nothing, that's all. *flops down sulkily close to him* #
Pro-ish
("Please will someone think I'm badass and mysterious now?" "No. Be quiet or I'll hug you." "You wouldn't dare.")
quote:"What's the most evil act you can think of?" asked Weft. Suitov frowned. "Child mutilation ranks highly." "I've done worse," said Weft. #
quote:"How can you talk about your family's death so calmly?" Suitov blinked. "It was six years ago. No doubt I was quite upset at the time." #
"He provoked Suitov into a duel." "No!" "Longswords. As they say, with mages you only get a second to act-" "-'Til he throws it aside." #
Weft turned the key with his toes. The shackles weren't designed for an Instarrian's flexibility. Ho hum he thought, another jailbreak. #
Brother Weft revered authority. It had quite simply never occurred to him not to. Besides, "dissident" was synonymous with "terrorist". #
(Did I mention they're hard as nails and pretty much indestructible?)
quote:The knight's broadsword sank to the bone in Itsche's leg. Blood welled over scales. "Oh, go /away/," she grumped, and flicked him over. #
A triplet set on the genie world, where the magicians do stuff by summoning genies (or meeting them around and about) and paying the asking price:
quote:"Yes, you COULD wish for that," said the genie; "there'd be a price of course." "And that price would be, theoretically?" Suitov asked. #
The genie turned. "And you, heartsick murderer? The wishes I could grant you..." "Not interested," squeaked Weft, edging behind Suitov. #
"I want as much popcorn as I can eat!" chimed in the dog. The genie studied him. "Incorruptible. My my. I'll grant that one for free." #
(prompt of "seashells")
quote:I leapt onto a slab of limestone. "You're standing on seashells!" Suitov called up. "What, sir?" "That rock was once fish!" #theprompt #
Non-Pro
(prompt of "strangers")
quote:"Let's take this slow," said Jo. "Slow," said Lydia. They went for icecream. "Slow enough," said Jo. "Let's get that marriage licence." #
"I'm just saying, if you wanted to name the village Two Hills, we could've settled near two hills." "Shut up and push the wheelbarrow." #
He was the man of her dreams, or would have been if he'd had the good manners to be fictional. #
She was the woman of his dreams. Specifically, the dreams where he was giving a presentation to the board when his trousers vanished. #
She's the perfect woman. The only problem... perfection runs in the family and she sorta has a sister. #
He's the perfect man. If only I'd met him back when he was a woman. #
As she zoomed off to her latest session, he wondered why she opened up more easily to strangers than to him. #theprompt #
My last act as heir had been buying a heckton of shares in ponies, helicopters and dinosaurs.
quote:The time had come, the narwhal thought, to storm out of the ocean and demand to know why his unicorn cousins got all the virgins. #
My first act as king was to decree that everyone should receive, for their 40th birthday, what they'd desperately wanted for their 8th. #
Silly narrator. What's to regret?
quote:"Eggo, er, tibby, maximass grattiass argo." The legionary frowned. Damn it! Why had I skived Conversational Latin, assuming it useless? #
"Explain the operation of this firearm," she said. I replied "Am I going to I regret doing so?" "Such conjecture is futile," she said. #
Randomosity
quote:Suitov: Blasted dragons! How do they think? #
Suitov: Familiar throws up, familiar falls down. Familiar throws up, familiar falls down. Never a missed inebriation. #
Basaltine: I'm so fkng wasted becaus I drank about a tun of apricot brandies YOU CAN'T EXPLAIN THAT #
Suitov: Asked a dragon if P = NP. [*] Got the reply "For me, yes." (qwantz.com/1907) Back when I've finished suspiring from unbearable longing. #
Weft: (quoting Elizabeth Bear:) "The thing that always strikes me about Monroe, Russell, Elvis, etc is how memory of their very real talents has been obliterated by pastiche/parody." #
Weft: I wonder if that (previous quote) will happen to Suitov when he's gone. #
Suitov: I try not to think about it. History isn't kind to those who try to write it as it's occurring. Besides I'm not that important. #
Basaltine: (directly after the "popcorn" vss above:) I feel sick. #