Realm of the InterNutter

Thoughts, stories and ideas.

Challenge #02244-F054: Made Outta Ticky Tacky

Yet another 'Wonderful Scheme' that was going to make life easier, Might have worked if they'd only listened instead of hiring a "well-known designer." -- Anon Guest

Here's why planned community spaces suck: they're always designed by an older, able-bodied man who is more concerned with aesthetics than practicality. In order to be a Name in the business, they design for beauty in mind. Unfortunately, beauty is both blind and deaf to the needs of anyone not fit, young, or adult.

Stairs installed to improve the fitness of those using a space tend to ignore those who need wheels to get around, or those who cannot lift their legs easily to reach the next riser of a staircase. Bike paths are hazards to those who do not have the wherewithal to ride a bicycle, but still have to use those paths for travel because they cannot or do not own a car. High hedges on the sides of streets may be pretty, but they also block the view of people lower down - in both directions.

Further to the need for aesthetics over practicality - men can pee literally anywhere they find convenient. Thusly, a Name designer of beauteous spaces gives no thought to those with smaller bladders or an extended need for privacy because eliminating body waste includes partial undressing and re-dressing or, indeed, lifting their entire body from one support structure to another. Men are not expected to care for small children, so amenities like Parent's Rooms or changing stations are sparse, if they exist at all. Of these simple things, of these missing things, failures are made. Which was why Sandra had to speak up about this latest in a long line of horrible community centres.

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Addle Daddle

I woke up convinced it was Tuesday, a fact not helped by Chaos' early morning tautology:

A Tuesday is still a Tuesday if it happens last week or if it happens today.

Well said, Miss Chaos. Well said.

But I still had a moment of existential dread about what yesterday was since I went and did my Patreon stuff yesterday. But no, it is Wednesday and the first thing I did with Chaos [after checking that it was Wednesday] was to help

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Challenge #02243-F053: Hardy Malone and the Mystery Missive

The letter appeared on her homework desk, under her second-hand typewriter.

"Nanna! You said you changed things, and I told you to do something about it, and go read the papers from 1940 onwards. And you'll need 10 pounds to buy that chest in the Junk shop."

"But! But I'm 14 and still in school!" -Inspired by Casandre Jones. -- Knitnan

The letter was printed, and not by any means that she recognised. It certainly hadn't come from her typewriter. Her letter

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New Tactics

Usually, when waiting for Chaos' bus in the mornings, I devote a patch of my time to fanficcery. I've taken to using that time for progress on my novel. A few sentences or paragraphs here and there can make all the difference.

As in, all the difference between me having a patch of spare time and me not having any at all.

I've started downloading the Hero Kids kits I paid for. I may yet have time to read up and practice

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Challenge #02242-F052: A Critical Lack

"Talk."

"I won't talk even if you torture me."

"Then talk or we'll execute the hostages."

"If I don't talk you'll execute unarmed civilians, including women and children ?"

"Yes !"

"That's the first time you're dealing with Humans, right?" -- Anon Guest

"What does that even mean?" Kyarth frowned at the Human Leader. They were captive. They were all captive. Held helpless and under watch by the strongest of the Ryhijov. They were without any kind of escape, any kind of hope. The

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Murgledy

I.

Hate.

Cyclones.

Between one and two AM, this morning, I couldn't sleep for the pain in my face. And of course I couldn't be arsed getting up for painkillers because one firkin AM.

Ugh.

So yeah. I'm not on all cylinders this morning.

Mayhem is under the weather because local tummy bug, and my money run is going to include dropping off a piece of paper because doctor's notes have to happen.

He should be fine tomorrow. I, however, am not

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Challenge #02241-F051: Courage Pour L'enfents

There is no living creature more dangerous than a mother wanting to protect children. Even if the mother is an Havenworlder. -- Anon Guest

The UFTP vessel Vengeance tried their best to make it to the Havenworld Yannomar in time. They had pushed everything to the limit, including the Human crew. They had hoped to make it in time to save lives, and found scenes of devastation instead. Too late. The Konthar had already struck, and apparently left the southern continents in

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Every single Cyclone Season

A long-ish time ago, when both my little darlings were in Public School, I paid $3K to get my nose broken. Deviated septum correction so I wouldn't keep Beloved awake with my stentorian snoring.

Fast forward to today, and I can pick up on the presence of every single low pressure system anywhere between Townsville and myself makes my face hurt until there's either a big-arse rainstorm and I reset, or the whole dang system goes away.

The only thing that really

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Challenge #02240-F050: A Crucial Flaw

"New Eden Space Station Security Service, I'm listening."

"HELP ! WE NEED HELP !"

"Please keep calm. What is happening, Sir ?"

"We tried to rob Habitat 39 and there is a angry human inside ! We locked ourselves inside a locker, and the human is waiting for us outside !" -- Anon Guest

They tell stories about this kind of thing. People who attempt to be criminal masterminds and end up being criminals missing minds. As in, the right mind not to burgle a Deathworlder habitat

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New Toys, Teething Trouble, etc

Game night kind'a knocks me around a bit. Not that I'd swap it for anything, though. It's the staying up past midnight combined with irrevocably waking after four hours' or less sleep.

I need a nippynap. Or twelve.

BUT... I did get to see the new toy in action - the new system for viewing our chosen entertainments, a combo of new drives and clever internet that should give us access to the things we love to see.

Which means I was

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Challenge #02239-F049: A Time to Shine

People need to stop mixing "knowledge" and "intelligence". It's true that a magician can, will and have read and learned more books than the average person, and a barbarian might not know all the rule to live with more civilised person, but it's only knowledge.

Intelligence is knowing that even with all your knowledge, you might not be the more suited person for the task at hand. For example, dealing with a tribal spirit without getting the party slaughtered. Here, the barbarian

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Game day!

It's the Friday I've been looking forward to for what feels like forever. I get to go in and do D&D with Mayhem and even though tonight is likely going to be all plot&plan, I am STOKED.

One way or another, I'm going to learn about Homebrewing and I might enlist KIABIL to help out there since he's done that sort of thing before and actually knows the ropes instead of talking out of his arse.

Long rant

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Challenge #02238-F048: The Scale Economy

Being tall means either not being able to see things under a certain height, or constantly looking down and getting a hunch. -- Anon Guest

Here's the thing about Standard Galactic Spaces - they're big. They're made for accessibility for all known cogniscents, from the size of a Terran Terrier through Jelly Dancer swarm to that of a Synapsian Titan. It's easy to forget that there are smaller species who don't see a reason why they have to accommodate others in their

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Busiest Day

Mayhem has a ceremony thing going on today. I must provide parental support by being in the audience.

This also means that my usual schedule is shot to hell and may not happen until later this afternoon. Much later this afternoon.

All this not helped at all by the household wifi deciding to temporarily kark it and me having to reboot the little bugger.

Honestly. Some days, it's a wonder I get anything done at all.

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Challenge #02237-F047: Could Be Worse

So, the big dangerous creature you were supposed to be fighting is now bawling it's eyes out. Worse still, a few of your crewmates/party keep giving it empathetic looks. What are you supposed to do? -- Anon Guest

The gigantic beast sat in the middle of the chamber and howled like an infant. Marvin, Wraithvine, and Lady Anthe all glared at Rumtum.

"You idiot," said Lady Anthe. "Why would you claw a baby inside its nose?"

"Now it's mother's going to

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