Archive | May 10, 2018

Normal American

For DaHob, a ficlet of Tír na Cali.  

🔒

“So… you’re pretty normal?”

As far as come-on lines went, Barty had definitely heard worse.  He’d heard better a couple times, sure, but while he was okay-looking, he wasn’t usually the hottest guy in the bar and definitely wasn’t the richest in any room.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been careful.  Maybe it had been the way she clicked her hair over a bare shoulder.  Maybe it had been the way she smiled like he was very, very important to her.

Whatever it had been, it had gotten him in her bed, and that had been, well.  Barty wasn’t the sort to say things like “mind-blowing,” but… his mind was pretty blown.

And now, now he was sitting on bleachers with fifty other Americans, wearing collars and sweats and all of them feeling a little uncomfortable.  

“The purpose of this mission is to acquaint Californian agents with American customs.  To that end, every one of you is going to have a house, a job, and several assignments.  You are going to have two weeks to settle in, and then you will be shadowed by Californian agents.  Do you understand?”

The woman speaking was tall, a valkyrie, and she looked deadly.  Standing to one side of her was the girl Barty had gone home with.

Looking at her, he had to admit he’d probably go home with her again.

Someone else’s hand rose.  Someone shouted out a question.

“Why should we help you?”

“Well.  Because the options are to take this service, which has a certain amount of leeway, or, considering the qualities for which you were acquired—”

So… you’re pretty normal?

“–will likely end up being field work.”

Barty sighed.  Sometimes, he’d fantasized about being kidnapped by a beautiful Californian woman.  He looked down at his little book of assignments. He hadn’t imagined it would end up with him being an accountant.

At least they’d given him a promotion.

 

Weather in the Bear Empire

First: Running in the Bear Empire
Previous: Rainclouds in the Bear Empire

Deline hadn’t had time or the right environment to make her protective shield very big; she had spent the energy she had on making it strong instead.  The line of force, a wobbling red-orange from inside, gave them just enough room to lie down, if they lay very close to each other. Standing up wouldn’t work, except in the one spot where the half-wall went all the way up to the ceiling joists; she had used the walls as two of her delimiters.

“What….”  Carrone ducked as the first hail hit the outside of the half-house and bounced off of their shelter.  “What?” he repeated. “What is this devil-begotten place that you call home, woman? The sky is throwing ice at us!  And we – we are in-” He looked around. “It’s a magical tent, isn’t it? That’s all it is.” Continue reading