Realm of the InterNutter

Thoughts, stories and ideas.

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 T was slightly off kilter and the commas always had an extra blob from the key strike. These letters were far too regular, and the paper... Something about it was subtly frightening. Something... more.

It was too white. Too smooth. Too thick. It was almost not of this world. It wasn't addressed to Polly-Anne or her preferred short form of Pol. It was addressed to Nanna. Which really was odd because... well... she was fourteen. Then there was the matter of ten pounds and the chest in the junk shop. Pol had neither ten pounds nor any idea about the chest in the junk shop. Then there was the overall scolding tone of the note. As if whoever wrote it - made it? - was disappointed that Pol was late in accomplishing some secret mission.

Pol thought about the whole thing on her walk to school. She didn't have a bicycle because Papa thought that proper girls had no business using them. Bicycles and the riding thereof, he said, caused proper girls to begin improper habits[1], though he never said exactly how. In fact, Pol had begun to wonder if she should try riding a bicycle to see what improper habits they might engender. Then there was the matter of ten pounds and the junk shop. What junk shop?

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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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Wednesday!

Halfway through the week. Huzzah, I guess.

Because of assorted shenanigans, Chaos gets her tuck shop on Wednesdays now. It's complicated and involves:

  • Tuck shop only being open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays
  • An order-ahead system that completely obliterates the entire 'mercantile practice' thing
  • And also uses my credit card
  • "Healthy" choices that include sugary, flavoured milk 9_9 and processed, sugary juice
  • Also bread. Lots and lots of white, bad-for-you bread.

I might have to make the energy to come and talk

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Challenge #02236-F046: We Always Came Back

Do couples on ships ever sing duets together during their leisure times? That would be adorable. -- Anon Guest

Humans are pack-bonding creatures and thrive in environments where they have ready access to their pack. It is therefore advisable, when hiring Humans, to be sure that you hire Humans who have already established a stable pack bond. -- Douddam's Guide to Surviving the Edge.

The Francetti's were at it again. Human pack-bonding rituals were one thing, but this? This was bizarre, even

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