Archive | May 16, 2014

A Conversation (@korionfray)

So, the writer in my attic, K Orion Fray, sends out a weekly writing inspiration e-mail, which includes a writing prompt.

A prompt from many weeks ago:

… Now make them have a conversation. Whether it’s an internal one, or with someone else, try and make them talk….

This story comes after
A Scene Description and
A Place Description
A Deletion – written earlier today, read first!

Marje Allise reached Kara before Ket’s screaming stopped. She was a presence, neither warm nor comforting but intensely familiar, while Kara’s finger clicked on the shutter release, over and over again, like a mantra, like a prayer.

“What did he do?” The Sergeant waited to ask the question until both noises had stopped, the screams and the clicks, and until Kara had dropped the device that looked like a camera to her waist, swinging like a hangman’s victim on its neck strap.

“I don’t know.” Kara took a breath and another, and tried again. “He kept repeating that he used to live here.”

“He did, of course. Most of us have.”

Kara nodded. The Mayflower was just – had been, at least – one of those places. It had the echoes, even now, of a city full of stories and memories. She had seen them in her viewfinder. “He kept talking about it – I should have noticed – he was getting a verbal tic.” She rubbed her hands on her pants. “And then he took off.”

“The resonance of the building called him.” Marje nodded sharply. “And then…?”

“We’ll have to look at the images to be certain. But his aura changed as he hit the doorway.” Kara pointed, careful to aim her knuckle and not her pointer finger at the glass eye settled above what had been the entrance. “That’s where it came in.”

“Makes sense.” The sergeant nodded crisply. “Good job keeping the C.A.M.E.R.A. moving, Kara. You did the right thing.”

Kara swallowed around a lump in her throat. “I did the only thing. Marje…”

She shouldn’t be calling the sergeant by her first name, not in the field, but right now it didn’t seem like the most important thing.

“You did the proper thing, Kara.” Sgt. Allise’s hand landed gently on Kara’s shoulder. “You got the data. You did the job. And Ket…”

The two woman shared a sigh. “Ket went out like he lived.” It was a horrible thing to say… but it was all she could think of at the moment. She wanted to miss Ket, silly as he’d been. She wanted to sit down in her car and cry.

“We’ll honor his death.” The sergeant tapped the device hanging from Kara’s neck. “Keep clicking. Likely we still have an unfriendly to contain.”

“Yes, sir.” Kara picked up the device and kept clicking.

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Recipe Log: Easy Salmon Potato Cakes

We made these yesterday:

Notes on the cakes:
The recipe means 2 cups of completed spuds, not two cups of flakes.

They need to be a bit more fishy, even with that – maybe a couple anchovies pasted?
Don’t bother with seasoned breadcrumbs, use plain and spice it yourself. Tarragon, horseradish?

Very tasty and good reheated the next day (30 seconds microwave).

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Recipe Log: Chocolate chocolate-chip mini muffins

We made this – – tonight for the first test run.

* probably replace the oil with browned butter
* should probably replace half the milk with sour cream.
* needs a little more salt
* if making for home, make 1/2 with walnuts, 1/2 with chips. (Maybe use white chips for game)

* I used 4T of cocoa instead of 2T, white sugar instead of superfine, and 1/2c chips (probably up to 3/4 in next run). I added 1/2 teas espresso powder, as per normal.

Tasty as is, could be a lot more tasty with a bit more work.

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Escape From Rochester (Camp Nano July’14 project) Character Profile 4

This is the fourth in a series of character profiles for my upcoming July Camp Nano Project.

The story follows a group’s flight from Rochester and the challenges they meet along the road to someplace safe, although, in the midst of the apocalypse, where “safe” may be might be the hardest question.

There would have been easier career choices, but Jordan (Taylor) has been into computers since her first-grade class was introduced to them.

She could have gotten into M.I.T. – she did get into M.I.T., as well as R.P.I. – but R.I.T. was a lot closer to home (her family lives in Greece, a suburb of Rochester), and with her maternal grandparents aging, she felt it important to stay near her family.

Near, but not with. She lived in the dorms for the first two years, and then moved to the apartments with a handful of newfound friends, two from her major and one from an elective, Anelle.

She didn’t really mind Anelle’s parties, since she helpfully kept them to non-study weekends, but the people that showed up were a stranger mix than she was used to. It meant that she found herself drinking with a guy who claimed he was really an elf, and playing Strip Jenga with a girl who pretended to be a vampire on the weekends, discussing philosophy with neo-nords… and kissing two lesbians under a full moon.

It was the lesbians that really did it, but it was Anelle’s fault that Jordan ended up visiting Raven’s little drinking parties in the swamp, and it was Anelle’s fault that she tried one – and only one – D&D game.

Sometimes all it takes is one game.

Jordan is tall, 5’8″, and built round in the chest and the butt, slender most other places. She wears her hair short and natural, but platinum blonde, liking the way it contrasts against her dark, near-ebony skin.

Her eyes are grey and slightly canted at the sides, her lips are full and her nose is long and aristocratic.

She has a fascination with the physics of time (as well as the psychology of such) and takes as many electives on the subject as she can.

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But Why, a vignette

This takes place sometime during the “sign-up” phase of the Addergoole project – ~mid-to-late 1970’s. It was written in response to [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s comments here and here

Addergoole has a landing page here

There were very few pure-bloods in Regine’s Addergoole Project. She had very little interest in finding out what happened when you bred two pure bloods, for one – they had been finding that out, over and over again, since the gods first arrived. She wanted to know what you could get from paired half-breeds.

For another, she knew that the pure bloods would eventually become distressed, when they learned of her project. It had not been all that long that half-breeds were in any way considered part of Shenera Endraae, and to go about deliberately making hundreds more half-breeds – all with the aim of educating and arming them – she had not needed Michael and Luca to tell her that somebody would be angry when they found out.

She had, however, not entirely anticipated the screaming, shouting rage or a Mara and a Daeva struggling through her wards and forcing their way to her office.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The shout was loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Come out here and talk to us or we’ll burn this forsaken place to the ground!”

Regine pushed three buttons on her wall – not that she believed anyone would need a call to inform them they had guests – and stepped out onto her porch. “How can I help you?”

The Mara was the woman, a tall, angry Mara – if that was not redundant – with her blue wings spread wide. “My son told me about your little ‘project.’ What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Regine thought back along the list of names she had seen. Blue wings, probably, or something like it, and the Daeva had horns that resembled an antelope’s. “Silvestre.” He’s been one of the ones who’d turned down her offer. “A handsome man, and very bright.”

“And a half-breed.

“And wouldn’t you be interested in knowing why?” Regine had been given more than a little opportunity to practice this speech. She watched the steam bleed off of the woman’s anger.


“Your son was born half-breed, when you two are clearly full-bloods. Wouldn’t you like to know why?”

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A Deletion (@korionfray)

So, the writer in my attic, K Orion Fray, sends out a weekly writing inspiration e-mail, which includes a writing prompt.

A prompt from many weeks ago:

Last time, we introduced a secondary element into our story. So you should have two characters, or a character and a setting (or some other organization of elements). Now take something away: a memory, a loved one, anything.

This story comes after
A Scene Description and
A Place Description

The Mayflower scene had been horrible on the projection scene. In real life, it was nauseating.

The glass eye in the front of the building should not exist; the pac-man style bite out of the back of it was physically impossible.

The impossibility, of course, stopped neither those nor any of the other horrors from existing – the stench of flesh already rotting, the more terrifying smell of cooking meat. Kara put a handkerchief up over her nose and breathed in deeply, once, twice, three times.

“I used to live here.” It wasn’t the first time Ket Vasquez had said that. It wasn’t even the first time since they’d arrived on scene, and they’d barely been there long enough to pull out the equipment. “Right up there.” His hand pointed, shaky.

Kara did what she was supposed to. She shouldered the piece of equipment that most closely resembled an expensive camera, attached the item that mostly looked like a telephoto lens, and plugged in the attachment that looked mostly like a USB drive. She pulled out the small, flat, shiny piece that could be mistaken for a smart phone, and tucked it where the lens would show, out of her jacket pocket. And she began taking… “pictures.”

Her movements seemed to fascinate Ket. He stared at her hands as she shifted the pieces around, finally falling silent. “Is that…”

“It’s the ‘C.A.M.E.R.A.'” She didn’t so much cut him of as preempt any suggestion of a question. “Could you hold up the ‘light meter?’ please?”

“I… the.” She could hear his swallow, although he wasn’t that close to her. “Kira, do you…”

“I need the light meter, Ket.” Where was Sergeant Allise? Kira wasn’t paid enough to deal with… “Ket! Tentacle under the sewers, Ket, what are you doing?”

What he was doing was running into the building. Kira bit her lip and took ‘pictures,’ her finger moving as fast on the shutter release as the button would push.

She saw him move in flashes of otherworldly-octarine-on-black: Running towards the door. Stepping inside the door, itself a portal of acid blue and blood dripping-red. His colors shifting from green to yellow to purple as he hit the few stairs that still worked.

She saw the moment his colors vanished: a tentacle of shadow ripped out of the seared edges of the hole and wrapped around Ket’s shining beacon of violet. The shadows squeezed, and then he was gone.

She kept taking ‘pictures’ until the screaming stopped.

A Scene Description and
A Place Description
A Deletion
A Conversation

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Five Recent Happy Things

* Tulips. I have tulips all over the front of my house and I love them. Warm fuzzies every time I look at them.

* Darling husband helped me wake up in nice ways yesterday.

* We bought a couch! Well, it will be here in 3 weeks but WE GOT IT!
– (The pillow fabric name is “wild rose wineberry,” which makes me giggle more than the fabric itself, which looks more like chive flowers)

* Mint, mint mint mint mint (plants make me very happy)

* I jogged with Rion the other day! That was new, and oddly fun. Also, hanging out with Rion, which is fun in and of itself.

* Kitty! Kitties. Merit makes me very happy. They all make me happy, but Merit is an adorable spring wrapped in sleek black fur.

* Happyfun RP

* And I have a new project, and that always pleases me.

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