Archive | November 6, 2015

Into Lannamer First and Last lines, 5th day of nano (yesterday)

First line of yesterday, Into Lannamer:
He sat back and glared at her. “You want to disguise me.”

Last line of yesterday, Into Lannamer:
He’d have to pay closer attention if he didn’t want to get caught in the middle of escaping.

290 words yesterday on Into Lannamer, bringing the total to 3582

Total of 2673 words yesterday, bringing the total to 10,258.

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A Presentation to the Honored Grigori, 2111

It was 2111, and Regine was using Powerpoint.

She found that amusing.

Certainly, computer programming was not a skill in high circulation at the moment – it seemed limited to a few sad enclaves still trying to hold on to the old world – and so there were few new options. But more than that, it was such a Grigori thing to do, to use antiquated technology decades past its prime.

Regine hoped there were Grigori in the audience young enough – or flexible enough – to appreciate the humor in this. She was going to need every advantage she could get today.

She did not clear her throat; it would considered an unnecessary and thus useless gesture by this crowd. Instead she stilled her posture and waited for silence.

“I am here today to state unequivocally that the terms ‘pure-blooded’, ‘half-breed’, and ‘Faded’ are outdated terms based on an archaic understanding and, as such, should immediately be dropped out of usage by Grigori.”

This was a Grigori meeting; there was no shouting. There were, however, murmurs and lifted eyebrows, shared glances and worried expressions. Regine catalogued them all. Michael would want to know about them.

She waited just long enough to allow the hubbub, such as it was, to die down, and then she began to present her proof.

She started with what Mike called her Jamian Point, because Jamian had been her first success. She brought up pictures – un-Masked pictures: “This is a Faded. This is a half-breed.” And then a picture of Jamian and the others. “This is their ‘full-blooded’ child.” Pictures of the next generation, both full-blooded and half-breed. “Their children with various other parents.” And the next generation, and the next. And then, because it was important, her ‘success children’s’ half-siblings. “These are other children from the same original parent groups, but in different combinations. The selection we call ‘full-blooded’ are merely a specific combination of genes which can be replicated with no recent ‘full-blooded’ ancestors.”

She raised her voice over the growing murmur. “Copies of all of my data are available for those who doubt my methods.”

She waited, as Michael and Ambrus had suggested, for silence to reign again before she began the next part of her speech.

“The ‘full-blooded’ Changes represent three combinations that occur commonly in bloodlines. They are not the only patterns to occur in bloodlines, although they may be the oldest. Putting weight on those above others handicaps us.

“Because of ‘half-blooded’ precognitives, we were able to correctly predict the return of the so-called gods and thus be better prepared to meet them. Because of ‘half-blooded’ space-shapers and time-movers, if you will pardon the casual term, we were able to face the ‘gods’ in manners and in places they were not expecting.”

Slide, slide, slide. Photographs of people who were very clearly half-breeds: Shira Pelletier. Porter, Shiva. Rohanna. Scenes of combat, some of those taken from mid-air in the middle of a teleport jump. Scenes of half-breeds beating down Hunters and Mara.

“They were older than us, on average. They were more powerful, on average, than we were. And yet we beat them. The world is bent but not broken, and it is still, after everything, ours.” She raised her chin and glared out at the perfect room of perfect people. “Will you tell me that any one of those who saved the world is worth less than you, because of a simple change in gene sequence?”

A pause. They wanted to say yes. They were so very comfortable with being on top.

“It’s a new world, honored Grigori. Let’s act like it.”

Open to more properly scientific terms for “The Jamian Point” and “space-shapers and time-movers”

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The Mall, a short horror story for Patreon Patrons

The thing is, our town isn’t that big. It’s a city, technically, yeah, but the next city away is an hour in any direction, and most of those aren’t very big either. So the mall is the only real shopping around except Wal-Mart and Main Street, which is to say, the only real shopping at all.

Or at least, it was…

read on…

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