Catch a fistful of sky

Unfinished changeling story

June 22, 2011
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        It was raining again in San Francisco, a heavy pounding rain that drove people indoors and swept the streets clear of pedestrians. There were a few that had somewhere to be on this early Sunday evening. They either moved with a purpose or nestled in alcoves waiting for a taxi to flag down.

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Olllld WoW story

November 19, 2010
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Kysa loved the mornings in Theramore. It was truly a city that never slept, but mornings seem to be so much more alive to the girl. She would sometimes convince her mother to let her go to the markets with one of the servants, under the pretense it’d help her “learn to run a household”. Instead, she took in the sights and sounds of Theramore’s wharf. Humans of all shapes and sizes, from all points of all trades. Craftsmen rubbed shoulders with footmen, captains bartered with merchants, and it was just so alive.

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Fairy Tale

October 13, 2010
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Once upon a time, there was a girl named Riley. She was not a princess, but she might as well have been. She lived in the kingdom of California, in the duchy of the City of Angels. She was a pretty girl, all of ten years old, and she had long brown hair and green eyes. She was tall for her age, and adventerous beyond good sense sometime. She was mature for her age though, and while she dreamed, she kept both feet planted in this world.  Riley lived in a big house along the beach and had lots of friends, and generally lived an enchanted life as the country around her twisted in the throes of malaise.

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Old Friends, New Places, Part 6.

August 13, 2010
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The chime to Chris’ door played several tones, and she leaned out from her office to see who it was. The screen next to the door showed Clay standing there, dreamblade and all. “Come in!” she shouted, and then slid back into her office. The door slid open with a pneumatic hiss and then closed again. When she came out a moment later, Clay was standing at the windows to her apartment looking out over the vista of sea and sky. Birds were wheeling around a floating advert stand off in the distance, and sleek ships were cutting the water.

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Old Friends, New Places, pt 5

July 30, 2010
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Clay was dreaming, but for FOSsils, most of their dreaming was the lucid variety . He was a comet, hurtling through space, with six others. Kipling, Jake, Cape, Fareedon, Keza, and Drake, all going in the same direction but so far from one another that the others seemed like white lights with tails, letting him know that he was not alone. He looked for Keza, who was farther than anyone. He wondered if this was purposeful. He was the man without a raptor, and she was the raptor without a man. There had been some talk, after Scylla, about putting them together as a team from those who had no idea of what a Bond entailed. Fletcher had been there to stop that.

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For future reference

July 28, 2010
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There are some of you following my serialized story, old friends, who I do not know about and are not being facebook messaged about what is going on. I am changing the names because they are based off real people and this saves me a lot of CTRL + F rewriting in the future. From now on:

Tyler = Clay

Alex = Chris(tina)

Leah = Chi(cago)

Emily = Jane

Carmen = Allie

Thanks for following! Certain things in part 2 (the battle) and part 3 (the chat) have been fine tuned a little as well. If you’re waiting for part 5, that might be a place to whet your appetite.


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Old friends, new places. Pt 4

July 23, 2010
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“Fighting across the stars,” Emily said, musing over the turn of phrase.

“What about it?” asked Tyler, pulling one leg up into the chair with him.

“I suppose that’s what got me out here. I was on Terra, you know, for the liberation. Were you there?” she asked.

Tyler shook his head. “No, most of us were deployed on Illuria. We were to deal with the thought police there and use our empathic projection to help keep up the morale of the Illurians who were rebelling. Only Rolf and Sara were on Terra,” he said.

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Old Friends, New Places, Pt 3.

July 10, 2010
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Alex took the orb, and spun it in her hand. It did not come alive for her like it had for the women, but she seem to expect that. “This is what the Naith use as databases,” she said. “Even now, their culture remains an enigma. We’ve reports of an exile who came over not too long ago, but that’s above my pay grade.”

She put the orb down, and Leah looked at her incredulously. “So that’s what all that’s what all those lives were for? All the dead? You, Emily, and myself, almost Domesticated by a Rulon? All for a Naith encyclopedia?!” she said, turning the last word into a curse.

“Yes,” Alex said flatly. Leah gave a snarl and leapt at Alex, who was restrained by Emily and wrestled back down.

“They died, and there is nothing we can do about that,” Emily told Leah. “That is the Truth. All we can do is make sure those deaths were worthwhile,” she said. Alex looked over Emily.

“Odd, a human who believes in Ultimate Truth,” Alex noted. Emily cut her eyes at Alex.

“Yes, I do. And you should know what we think of duplicity and lies and those who use them,” Emily said.

“Before you lecture me, remember that the Illurians are the originators of Ultimate Truth, and they’re the greatest intelligenciers and covert agents we have in the Empire,” Alex noted.  Emily’s retort died on her lips as Carmen’s voice filled the cabin.

“Ladies, we’ve got a problem,” she said.

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Changeling: The Lost fiction

June 29, 2010
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Malik was thankful for the darkness.  There was nothing that said his quarry had to move at night, but for all involved it just made things so much easier. The privateer moved fast, for a Wizened, and never once looked for the Darkling, who moved from shadow to shadow on the empty streets. Of more pressing concern to the privateer would be the two Summer Court bullyboys that he could hear, but not see, their big Crimson Court feet reverberating through the world for all to listen.

They were the hand that distracts you while the other one did its work, pulling a coin from your ear or driving a stiletto behind it. Perhaps Simon Ragman had an idea of the death that was approaching him, hiding in the shadows of cats and streetlights, and was simply playing the players, but Malik Last Laughter, once Meyer Lawson, doubted it. Yes, Ragman was cunning, in that low way that children and simpletons are drawn in by, the kind of cunning that was dangerous enough to require you to never turn your back on his sort. It was that cunning, perhaps, that had led Ragman into the idea of stealing children for the Gentry.

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Old Friends, New Places Pt 2

June 22, 2010
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Emily was correct. The sleek black ship with silver piping along the wings and dorsal fin made one pass over the modular buildings that made up their camp shortly before dinner was ready. It wagged its wings once and then came down for a landing in the cleared field that passed for a vehicle pool.

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About author

Paratrooper. Correctional Officer. Federal Agent. Hello world, these are my thoughts and this is my story.

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