Tindalostalbot

It is, as I write these words, Easter Sunday. I find myself somewhat held by the meaning of the day this year, for reasons that I shan’t go into further, and in doing so a thought came to mind. There are things we wish for that can never be, something to wonder about in the quieter times that appear as time passes and memories come and go. Perhaps it’s a scattered thought, held with the emotions of the past and where that …

Led To
By TeraS

I’ve never met Grandmom. Mom and Dad tell stories about her, share pictures, and try, as best they could, to explain how wonderful she is–not was. That’s an important distinction to remember when thinking about her. Things didn’t work out in a way that would have allowed us grandchildren to see her. Goddess does as she will, there’s really no point in holding anger about the what-might-have-beens and what-could-have-beens. She’s not really gone, if we remember her, talk about her and, on occasion, wonder what she is like–again, not was. Perhaps we can feel the tentative connection with her become something more. It might even lead to something we don’t expect.

Dad and Mom remember her in their own ways. There are dates on the calendar where my sister and I know that Dad won’t be quite himself and Mom … there’s no question that she’s reflective, too. It might be getting easier with the passing of time, though it’s hard for Rianna or me to be sure. For us, the pain isn’t as deep, but we both see a picture of Grandmom, her recipe book, a letter, and wonder. She’s such a deep part of our lives: without her Dad would have never met Mom, the Realm would not be as we are, and, as for Rianna and myself … well, that’s not even a consideration.

My younger sister has suggested, on occasion, that we could do something about that. We’ve heard the story about Auntie Cassie going to the past, meeting Dad, and pulling him and Mom together. Being the slightly older one, I just don’t like the idea of doing so, but not for the reasons you might think. It’s not a question of messing with time or being in a place we shouldn’t be. It’s meeting Grandmom … and not being able to tell her who either of us are. I don’t think I could do that.

I remember Dad’s stories about how wonderful she is. I know, without question, that Dad being able to share his love is because of her. I know that she gave her son guidance, to help him to find his path forward. I also know that Mom needed her as much, if not more. She talks about losing her mom, much younger than we are, and being alone. Then came Dad and soon after she met Grandmom. Mom’s told us that Grandmom loved her from the first moment and every moment they had. It honestly makes me smile to know that Mom was, in a way, adopted into a new family sort of like my sister and I were … and are.

This all brings me around to where I am. Rianna doesn’t know I’m here, neither does Mom or Dad. It’s just me and Grandmom this morning. I brought flowers–carnations, of course, her favourite. I can’t really put into words what I’m thinking at this moment, how to explain what it feels like to see her red–of course it is–urn resting there, the picture frame beside, her smiling from the past, the crystal vase that begins to hold the flowers sparkling in the morning light. This isn’t the Realm, but I was not going to hide myself from her, I think that she’d understand that. This is me, her Granddaughter, a blue-tail with ebon-coloured hair close to my mother’s own. I think she’d be amused at what I’m wearing: it’s part of who I am, the heritage I’m part of, what everything she began is.

Closing my eyes, I can almost feel her holding me, her voice saying that she loves me. The tears come as I play in my mind what she’d do, the things she would teach me, the love she’d give. Unbidden, I manage to smile as the scene plays out in the way I can only wish it could have. Soon it’s time to go, before I’m seen, before the world awakens. My flowers left behind to mark that I was here.

To remember, to be thankful, and to show her what everything has led to.

There’s a certain Queen of the Realm’s birthday coming at the end of the month. Now, while she doesn’t expect anything, or want anything, there are always those who have other ideas. This, of course, means there will be …

Musings
By TeraS

“She is such a pain in the tail.” These words, spoken by a certain silver-tailed Temptress in something between frustration and sheer amusement, were a regular occurrence at this point every year.

The smile and similarly amused chuckle from a certain Eternal was expected: “Well, we both are.”

His Temptress tapped a silver tipped finger on his nose: “Yes, you are. But let’s not get off topic.” Not that she didn’t delight when he did do that, but there was plotting to do and it would be good to figure out this year’s plot before things got too out of hand. The fun with him would come later.

Peering at her niece through horn-rimmed glasses, Simone mused: “You all do realize that someone will be the focus of her wrath when whatever plans you sort out come to pass?” Returning her attention to a slender notebook were a long list of possible ideas had been noted–she was the Receptionist, after all–Cassie’s Auntie continued: “So far everything will result in … her being miffed.”

“Ah, but that is the fun part, isn’t it?” The elderly knitter of the Realm was busying herself with the creation of a tail cozy–in purple, mind you–when she expressed her thoughts. Lil would never think of doing something unbecoming to her dear Tera, perish the thought. But being invited to the plotting and scheming amused her to no end. Besides, it had been some time since she’d tweaked the Queen’s tail. Such things were such fun, even if no one except her would remember afterwards.

Seeing that the discussion was getting lost, and Cassie had “innocently” curled herself about him, Keith pressed on: “We all keep dancing around this. Someone’s going to have to decide on what we’re going to be doing.” Teasing Cassie by caressing that one spot on her tail that made her mewl, he added: “As for you: behave yourself or else.”

Cassie discovered that it was very hard to mewl and huff in indignation simultaneously before she turned her attention to Simone: “Auntie, he’s teasing me!”

Simone’s bemused smile, a family trait of the red-tails, came with: “Yes, he is. Quite well too.”

Lil finished off another row of her knitting before regarding Cassie, having positioned herself so that her Adored One could not escape–not that he wanted to, the elderly red-tail mused–“I agree Simone. It’s a shame that Cassie just can’t behave, isn’t it?”

Tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder to answer, Keith began nibbling on her neck, the naughty thing he was, which made Cassie shiver in delight. Managing to look at the other red-tails, the Temptress expressed her frustrations as best as she could: “I am being … mmm … good! He’s the one that isn’t!”

Simone considered this: “I don’t know, I think he’s being very good. Don’t you, Lil?”

There was a glint in the knitter’s deep green eyes as the scene before her unfolded: “I agree, I can’t see how he could possibly be better. Do you?”

Before Simone could consider this, her niece arched her back as her Adored One paid particular attention to his Temptress, the now-so-very-horny silver-tail’s own green eyes meeting her Adored One’s so-blue.

Lil continued her musings as Cassie’s gasps of delight continued: “I do wonder however, if our little gathering was a plot of its own.”

A faux-gasp from the Receptionist was followed by: “You don’t think that my niece would even consider such a thing, do you?”

Lil shrugged, returning her focus back to her knitting as they watched a certain silver-tail fall to her desires and her Adored One’s attentions. Tapping her red pen against her cheek and watching her niece give in, Simone continued with a telltale smirk: “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’s had ulterior motives.”

This caught Cassie’s attention as she managed to gasp in the midst of another good, or was it bad, thing being done to her: “Didn’t … wasn’t … I mean …” It is very difficult to put more than two words together at a time when you are at the mercy of your Adored One, after all.

Holding his Temptress close, Keith smiled: “Seems I have to teach someone a lesson. We’ll be back … soon.”

Lil waved a hand at the lovers as they disappeared: “Goddess knows we aren’t getting anything done with those two flirting.”

Simone realized something: “You do realize that we’re left to plot for Tera’s birthday?”

Lil laughed softly as she plucked the notebook from Simone’s hands and studied it: “Oh, let them have their fun. I’m sure we will.”

It’s been a bit since a Cassie story has appeared on the Tale. Considering that last week held our anniversary, I found myself wondering about the Temptress. Then it came to me that this particular anniversary would be perfect for Cassie to be involved. Given the stories that have appeared about this particular silver-tail, it should not be a surprise that she would be …

Satisfied
By TeraS

The extent to which the Temptress of the Realm plots and plans when it comes to her Adored One is nearly legendary. There are so very few moments when she cannot be found musing over an intriguing plan or daydreaming about what delights had “befallen” her at her red-tailed desire with the so-blue eyes.

Her delight comes with each and every plan and how it unfolds, regardless of things going right–or more accurately, often wrong. Whichever happens to come to pass, the moment when he has captured her in his arms, or perhaps more rationally, she has manoeuvred into them, simply reminds the Temptress why he is her Adored One.

This happens like clockwork, except on a singular day of the year. She marks the day on her calendar with a red pen, the only day of the year where her notes are not in silver. it stands out brightly to mark a date that, without her being so very deeply involved, would never have happened.

Some might think she would be so very proud of what she did, how she guided the paths of two Eternals together in spite of what otherwise could have been. Others might offer that she curses herself for not putting herself first to make another possibility happen, perhaps even to become the Queen of the Realm herself.

For many years, Cassiopeia watched the two Eternals from afar, adoring their love and the life they created through that love. Her desire to be part of their love never left her heart and soul. Cassie, being a silver-tail, understood love before her tail was entwined with two red ones. Unconditional love is a very special thing, more so when one discovers that it leads to the dream of being the Eternal of the ones desired.

Getting back to the date marked on the calendar, however, there is one thing she’d never experienced. It was a tradition she’d heard of, but never had lived. Still, it was important to her Adored One and his Eternal, and so, on this day, she would set aside her desires for their happiness. They didn’t celebrate it with pomp and ceremony in the Realm, though Cassie had thought that was a bit of a shame. She mused that this date, beyond the birthdays of her dearest loves, should be marked by the entire Realm by means that would be more and more spectacular each time the date arrived.

What she didn’t expect as the date approached this year was Tera asking Cassie to come visit them on that date at a specific time and a specific place. The Queen of the Realm had “suggested” that Cassie needed to be there and was even more specific as to what she “requested” the Temptress wear. Being all sorts of confused about what was going on, the Temptress had actually set aside her plans–well, more delayed for a time–to try and “encourage” Keith to tell all about what this was about. His answer, while she was being held closely and falling into his so-blue eyes, was mysterious: “You’ll see.” Cassie could hardly wait until the date arrived, and the point in time soon thereafter.

Being how important the day was to her dearest friends, Cassie was surprised to find herself returned to Earth, to the park she knew so intimately. The maple tree was still there, the leaves being tossed about by the first warm winds of spring as she arrived. The gazebo of red and silver nearby was new, drawing her attention as she moved along the cobblestone path towards those waiting within.

She found her friends waiting for her, her Adored One offering his hand and guiding the Temptress to be with the King and the Queen of the Realm. There were no horns or tails to be seen; this wasn’t the Realm after all. Cassie mused that Keith looked … right … as he always did. Tera wore the dress of legend, anyone watching would be wondering how she kept warm, which would bemuse her to no end. As for Cassie, the Temptress’ silver dress shone in the light, reflecting the sun’s rays upon the trio like a spotlight. Tera explained: “Today marks our 25th anniversary on Earth.” Keith chuckled softly: “It is celebrated as the silver anniversary, Cassie.”

Cassie was captivated by the thought that silver was part of this anniversary, more so that her friends hadn’t bought gifts of silver, seeing that less important than having the silver-tail in their lives be part of this moment. As the trio held hands, Cassie bore witness to the vows taken before by the Eternals she loved now being renewed in the presence of the silver-tail who had made everything be real.

The Temptress, in all of her silver seduction and passion, fell aside for Cassie as their words brought tears. This wasn’t about being the Temptress, it was what she’d made real and how that mattered to the ones she loved. In the end, Cassie was satisfied that what she began so long ago was celebrated in a way that allowed her to be part of the moments before, the moment now, and the moments to be that would be for always.

We’re constantly working on improvements to WebDewey. Some changes are in the works already, while others we have some idea of solutions but could use some help setting priorities. That’s where you come in!

The WebDewey Functionality Survey is live until Wednesday, April 19. It’s designed to be short and sweet, with five types of enhancements that you’ll rank from highest to lowest priority. And of course, there’s also a blank prompt where you can request any other sort of updates to WebDewey. (You’re always welcome to make suggestions for topical coverage in the DDC, but this survey is focused on WebDewey.)

I hope the survey will be largely self explanatory, but since I have a whole blog post to work with here, I thought I’d go into some more detail about the idea behind these five items.

A: Making number building in WebDewey easier

I love WebDewey’s number building tool, but I know some users prefer to build by hand. There are so many ways to build numbers in DDC that there will really never be a perfect number builder, but like WebDewey as a whole, it’s something we continue to iterate on. Where the number builder can’t follow the steps correctly, our developers can tweak the tool so it can. Prioritize this if you do a lot of number building… or especially if you try but run into trouble.

B: Have more built numbers available in WebDewey

Spoiler alert: we’re always going to be adding new built numbers regardless of how this item does! But it will still be helpful to know how desirable this is compared to other possibilities. Prioritize this if you, like me, take a “the more the merrier” approach to available numbers.

C: The ability to search WebDewey with special characters and punctuation

For better or worse, WebDewey search is not Google. While many characters beyond a basic Latin alphabet are supported, you may still run into issues. For example, the screenshot we used in the survey shows how you can find results by copying and pasting the LCSH form Qurʼan, but none with Qur’an. Can you see the difference? I can’t, as I write here in Microsoft Word! The latter uses the single quotation mark found on most keyboards. It works in Wikipedia, but not WebDewey. Prioritize this if you often find yourself running into problems like this.

D: The ability to filter recent changes in WebDewey by project

When the update notification feature was rolled out, we added the functionality to be able to search or filter updates by specific projects, usually EPC exhibits. We already used such codes internally. For example, any record changed as a result of EPC 143A-S94.1 Ionian Islands would have the code “EPC 143A-S94.1”. You can do that now, but in the process, you’ll sometimes see other internal codes that don’t have much meaning for a WebDewey user. I’d like to clean this area up a bit before really touting it. Prioritize this if you like to follow EPC’s work and want to get a sense of everywhere that a given project touches.

E: Clickable links in over-over hierarchy boxes for quicker navigation in WebDewey

You know how you can hover over those downward arrows next to a number to get a quick view of the subdivisions (or children) of that number? If not, you do now! This can be a great way to glimpse at other numbers up and down the hierarchy and save you some clicks. This enhancement would take that a step further, making those numbers clickable links to let you hop directly to numbers of interest. Prioritize this if you make good use of WebDewey’s hierarchy (good for you!) and want to expedite that process.

I’m optimistic that eventually, we’ll get to all of these, but we’ll be looking for your feedback to help prioritize.

Consistency, standards, and respectful language are all goals of the DDC editorial team.  How do you achieve that when the subject at hand has different opinions with valid arguments?  You have the discussions, you do the research, discuss again, and ask for others’ thoughts on the matter.

The discussion topic we are currently having is the capitalization of the words “Black” and “White” when referring to racial groups.  We agree that “Black” should be capitalized.  There was no debate on that aspect among the editorial team.  However, the “w” in “white” remains debatable.  Reading many opinion pieces and articles by predominantly Black voices, there are a few questions we must answer to decide.  Some feel that a capital “W” forces the thinking of racial constructs, while others feel the capital “W” gives validity to white supremacy groups that also use the capital letter. 

Many publications and writing style guides are in disagreement as well.  The Chicago Style Manual (2020), 7th Edition of the American Psychological Association’s Publication Manual (2020), The Washington Post, the Chicago Tribune and the Center for the Study of Social Policy advocacy group all capitalize the “W”, while the Associated Press, The New York Times, and the Columbia Journalism Review do not, preferring the lower case “w”.  The MLA 9^th edition (2021) guides users to lowercase both terms.  Canada’s The Globe and Mail is using “Black” and “white” in its publications, while the United Kingdom’s The Guardian Style Guide uses “black”, but also recognizes authors may prefer “Black”.  Again, there is no consensus. 

From a library standpoint, the Library of Congress Subject Headings capitalizes “Black” but not “white”, and while Dewey is not a part of the Library of Congress, we do work closely with their classifiers.  If the DDC was to follow LCSH’s entries, it could make things easier in the future for any bulk changing within a library system. 

What are your thoughts?  What option would work best for your users?  We would love to hear your opinion on the subject.

Welcome to the 4000th cover for Super-Team Family: The Lost Issues!  When you count the B&B and MTIO covers that I began with, the total comes to 4510 covers.  It's been just about 13 years of daily work, but it's been a fun ride thanks to all of the enthusiasm and support from visitors to the blog. This year was especially nice, with STF: The Lost Issues getting a segment in The Team-Up Companion from TwoMorrows Publishing, quite an honor.  I truly appreciate everyone who stops by to check out my daily covers, especially those who take the time to comment and let me know what they think and offer praise, constructive criticism and suggestions.  The biggest thank you of course must go out to the Patrons of this blog.  Your support has meant the world to me and a huge reason why the blog has lasted so long. 

In addition to the main cover here featuring a meeting between two teams that I have been meaning to get to for years, I've prepared some special features.   You know, it's too bad that legal red tape prevents me from selling any STF-related merchandise on this blog, but it got me thinking.  What are some of the cool STF-Inspired tie-in items that might have appeared over the years?  Let's see some of the greatest STF Swag that never existed - but should have!

Your All-New Saturday Line-Up!

I presented some Saturday Morning cartoons as part of the special features in my special features for STF #3000, and I wanted to expand the concept here.  Most of these new shows are based on previous STF adventures:

Adam Strange joined Star Wars in STF #3343...

Shazam met Shazzan in STF #1178...

Dick Tracy hunted Spider-Man in STF #1080...

Johnny Quest and Tintin Shared a two-part tale in STF #186 and STF #187...

and Aquaman and Sub-Mariner have a long history on the blog, they last appeared together with The Defenders in STF #3927, they battled Mer-Mutates in STF #2270, tried to avert war in Issue #1105, faced the sea's wrath back in Issue #751 and starred in my very first STF two-parter in Issue #3 and Issue #4.

That should make for a fun Saturday Morning, but there's no reason you can't get into the STF fun on school days with the...

Scooby-Doo: Marvel Madness Lunch Box!

After School, it's time to relax with a board game, perhaps one that's based on STF's longest running romance:

The Captain America & Wonder Woman Game!

They certainly have a history on this blog - this marks the 30th appearance of the WW/Cap Romance!

If it's a newer game you are looking for, maybe it's time for a round of...

Superman Vs. The Hulk Rock-'Em Sock-'Em Robots!

That's fun, but it's time for something even more advanced:

The Superman and Spider-Man Video Game!

And don't miss out on the fully articulated...

STF Action Figures!

Ah, what could have been.  Maybe such crossovers will never happen but here on the blog I'm going to try to keep on presenting them to you.  Thanks again for visiting and all of the support over the years.  Let the march to STF #5000 begin!

petermorwood:

One for St Patrick’s Day, also a recipe for any day when you don’t have any bread and want some really soon.

Best eaten with a generous spread of salted butter, Irish if you can get it (Dylan doesn’t do this, he has a thinness to maintain) or used to chase the last toothsome dregs of Irish Stew, Dublin Coddle, Strong Farmer’s Soup - or indeed stuff from outside Ireland such as chilli, goulash, Sauerbraten and any other tasty savoury thing whose last toothsome dregs need chased…

It makes washing the plates so much easier. ;->

Normally at this point I’d link to my Mum’s 4-or-maybe-5-generation-old recipe on European Cuisines, but the site’s not back up yet.

Instead this link goes to Sotsil’s Wordpress page, which not only gives full credit (Yay!) but adds some fun extra observations, including various ways to improvise buttermilk if you can’t find the real thing.

Here it is.

Here’s a pic of the last time we made it:

That photo, Dylan’s video and Sotsil’s page all show the oven-baked “cake” version more associated with the South. The North, where I come from, uses the same ingredients and method, but cooks with a skillet / griddle on the stovetop.

That version looks like this:

Here it is with the traditional “wee cup of tea”.

Remember how I said something about butter? Jam, too.

Either warm from the griddle or after being split and toasted, the butter does A Trick, and melts down into the bread. This was the way my Dad liked it.

The melted butter of course makes room for more butter, if you like butter (Dad did) though biting into it after that can be an adventure.

If you can manage a slice of street pizza without getting grease on your chin elbows, you’re halfway there already…

Material

When interviewers ask me about how I approach writing RPG stuff I usually say something like "It's a lot like writing a novel or other story, you just do it like that."

I realize that might not be the most useful way to put it, so I am going to dig a little into what that means.

The word dressmakers use for stuff that they're going to make into a dress is the same word comedians have for words they're going to turn into a performance: "material". Like: "I need more material,""This is great material,""All out of material," "You need new material", etc.

Material means, in writing: everything in your head that you think might interest your audience that you have not told them already. Material is unformed. It is a thing but not yet presented or presentable.

One way to think about writing that is helpful to me when I'm doing RPG stuff is to describe writing as a process of translation. Material appears in the inchoate language of thought and leaves in the language of, well, language.

When I say writing an RPG thing is like writing a story, remember a story's not just you revealing the plot points in order, it's you revealing anything you want to reveal.

Tolkien begin his whole saga with no plot at all, with barely even a description, but rather by revealing what some things in his story aren't:

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hold, and that means comfort.

The plot has gone nowhere and he's already got three lines. Rock on. He did it by thinking about what his story wasn't about, and giving us those thoughts.

If you haven't revealed it yet--or haven't revealed that's what you think yet--that's material.

One way to think of writing:

1. Know what your material is.

2. Reveal it in the most interesting order you can.

3. Reveal it using the most interesting words you can.

Old Material

Material does not have to be something you know but the audience doesn't. You know what an elephant is, but Samuel Johnson is going to tell you anyway:

"The largest of all quadrupeds, of whose sagacity, faithfulness, prudence, and even understanding, many surprising relations are given. This animal is not carnivorous, but feeds on hay, herbs, and all sorts of pulse; and it is said to be extremely long lifed. It is naturally very gentle; but when enraged, no creature is more terrible. He is supplied with a trunk, or long hollow cartilage, like a large trumpet, which hangs between his teeth, and serves him for hands: by one blow with his trunk he will kill a camel or a horse, and will raise a prodigious weight with it. His teeth are the ivory so well known in Europe, some of which have been seen as large as a man's thigh, and a fathom in length. Wild elephants are taken with the help of a female ready for the male: she is confined to a narrow place, round which pits are dug; and these being covered with a little earth scattered over hurdles, the male elephants easily fall into the snare. In copulation the female receives the male lying upon her back; and such is his pudicity, that he never covers the female so long as any one appears in sight."

How did he take something we all know and keep us entertained all the way through telling us it? Let's take a look at one part we didn't need to know:

 He is supplied with a trunk, or long hollow cartilage, like a large trumpet..."

We get "supplied" which is wonderful (because although it's technically appropriate, it summons an image of a uniformed clerk carrying one under his arm to the noseless elephant), there's something great about the forensic precision of "cartilage" leading casually into the bombastic street-party atmosphere of "trumpet".

Here's Paul F Tompkins telling us what we already know about peanut brittle:

This bit--this transformation of the idea material of "Hey, the peanut brittle gag is anachronistic" into five minutes of stage time--consists of just saying what we know over and over, slowly, teasing out every bit of absurdity. "..this peanut brittle--the most common snack in the world--". 

Efficiency

One thing none of these uses of material I've quoted so far is, is efficient. The information's not delivered quickly. The ratio of word to idea is quite high.

It is, however, delivered entertainingly, which is to say: memorably.

I don't have much of a head for recipes, but I certainly remember Harry Nilsson's doctor's formula for gastrointestinal relief: you put the lime in the coconut and drink em both up. Because Tarantino put it in that movie.

RPG writing has a challenge embedded in it--as I've said often, we often want to be able to access rules quickly midgame (that is: we want efficiency) but we also want the rules to be fun to read and (therefore) easy to remember so we don't have to look them up much.

Whenever possible in an RPG, I would not recommend trying to balance the imperative to be efficient with the imperative to be memorable. I would instead recommend just doing both: put a memorable version of the concept in the text, and make an efficient, referenceable version elsewhere, and then make sure you and the graphic designer find ways to tell the reader which is which.

Wasting Material

You can waste material. You can take a perfectly good thought and reveal it in such a way that the juice of what you need to tell the reader stops feeling worth the squeeze of patiently reading those words in order.

Here's Samuel Johnson on "pig":

A young sow or boar.

Fuck off, Sam. We get a 203-word disquisition on the elephant and yet his cousin the hog--a noble, tasty beast, an ally and associate to humanity since well before the bronze age--isn't worth even a full line?

Samuel Johnson has wasted his material.

As demonstrated above, you don't waste material by telling the reader what they already know. That's fine: readers can love reading what they already know and many RPG authors make entire careers dictating readers' own thoughts back to them. You waste material by not presenting it as being as exciting or rich as it actually is to you.  Vegetarians want pigs around, carnivores want pigs around, maybe even more--so, really, everyone wants pigs around. Make us know why.

Writing is revealing your thoughts, nobody wants to hear thoughts not even you think are interesting.

Let's see what else Johnson did with a pig:

Sow-- A female pig; the female of a boar.

Zzzzzz. You would not hire this man to write your monster manual.

Now:

Boar--The male swine.

Triple fuck off! Ok, fine, Johnson is bored but out of sheer bloodymindedness, let's see "swine":

Swine--A hog; a pig. A creature remarkable for stupidity and nastiness.

Finally the doctor has done something with his material. We now know two things about pigs. We don't know how many legs they have but whatever, something has been revealed, and it's interesting: pigs apparently suck, or at least Samuel Johnson thinks they do.

And a hog?

Hog--The general name of swine.

I'm belaboring the point.

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What you must say is a pig, what the audience will read is a sausage. Make the transition with grace, and honor every part of the pig.

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When Jesus got hangry. At a tree.

The post One isn’t helpless. appeared first on Indexed.

Pagan World TV Project

I remember way back in the Usenet 90s when I posted in a Pagan group, “What would you put on a Pagan cable channel?” the question and idea was met with 100% howls of displeasure.

Another week of not feeling well at all, which is becoming more of an ongoing thing than I really wish this would be. Nonetheless, I made something of a concerted effort this week to write something. Perhaps in times like these we should …

Take A Moment
By TeraS

There are many constants to be found in the universes. From the smallest of things to the largeness of the universe itself, there are certain things which are expected to be in attendance and to function in the expected of ways. One would expect that this particular theory would work its way to the souls that exist within these universes and apply to them in whatever way might be expected.

In the case of a certain ebon-maned, red-tailed Monarch of the Realm, the expected occasionally needs to be tempered or, if not tempered, then certainly nudged in one direction or another. On this particular morning in the Realm, Her Majesty’s mane is suffering from a very bad case of bedhead hair. Her tail, and for that matter, the rest of her Majesty, are burrowed beneath the comforter, and while she would rather be well asleep, her sense of duty gets a bit in the way.

Curling the bedding about her, she turns to see her Eternal’s place by her side is somewhat empty of red-tailed eternalness, and she frowns a bit. He, much like herself, feels the pull of duty, of starting the day and seeing the Realm through the day unfolding before them all. Closing her eyes, she can envision him having looked after their daughters, seeing them off on their day. Soon after, he will gather his things, come into their bedroom, kiss her a good morning and be off to what awaits him.

Then will come the beginning of her day: getting out of the warm bed, making her own preparations before being off to her own schedule, which she was completely certain was waiting for her by the mug of hot chocolate on the warmer in the kitchen.

She wonders if she could send a note to Simone, feigning some sort of illness and proclaiming that the Queen would be unavailable for a time. Then her thoughts remind her that even the barest suggestion of such a thing would result in many a thing coming into play. It would be a bother for Florence to visit and find nothing wrong. It would be unkind to worry Simone; she’d be over to check on her niece before the text message had finished appearing on her phone. Then her Eternal and their daughters would rush back home, to help in any way they could, which would wreck their own days.

Yet she still really didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, didn’t want to actually do something constructive for the day. Still, her mind continued to think about what she really should be doing this morning, the events of the day she was aware of, and those that would make themselves known in time. She could hear her Eternal downstairs being productive, beginning his morning. From time to time, the voices of her daughters reached her ears and she wondered what their plans were for the day. There was still time to think about the decision of doing or not, her Eternal hadn’t reappeared to wish her good morning and then be off as was their way.

A glance at the clock on their end table mades her arch an eyebrow in thought. It was a bit later than she expected it to be–not exactly late as such, but certainly her family seemed to be running a bit behind this morning. It seemed a little odd, but not exactly worrisome as she wormed her way slowly out of the bedding and gathered herself to start her day while that feeling of wanting to just remain in bed tugged on her to resist the pull of the day.

Her toes were just sinking into the carpet when she heard her Eternal coming up the stairs, and she could not help the smile. She thought about being naughty this morning, wondered about suggesting that he stay with her this morning rather than being out and about. But then she was very sure that he was all set to be off and away, and the smile became covered by a little sigh of disappointment that her wish wasn’t going to happen. As her King returned to her, the Queen of the Realm realized that she really should have never thought such a thing. As her daughters followed along, she could not help the gasp of surprise and the delight.

It would seem that the Realm would be doing without the Queen and her King. It would appear that their daughters would be unavailable as well. She protested that they really shouldn’t be avoiding the day. But Keith just smiled and shook his head. It was explained that sometimes the day wasn’t about the world outside, but the family they are. Her daughters excitedly noted that they hadn’t done this sort of thing together for far too long. As her love and their daughters joined her for breakfast in bed, the truth reminded Tera that there was always time to take a moment … together.

Love Smacks
By Justin Bedard
@JayDanielBurn

For @BridgeportChro1

“Tera wants me to what?”

Yeah, about what I expected when I finally got around to telling him.
“I know, I know,” I said. “But look! She’s got blueprints for it and everything!”

“Tina, that’s not the point…”

“What, you can’t do it?”

Just calling his bluff. I knew he could do it. He built a watch that can generate a motorcycle AND an actual freakin’ proton pack (which I still had to change hiding spots for every time he asked about it ‘cause Little Miss can’t have nice things). If anyone could do it, it was my big brother Lance.

“I can do it,” he said and looked over the scraps I’d pushed into his hands. “I just…I mean, what is it with them and pillows?”

“Running gag, I guess?”

“A running gag that’s gone a little too far, I’d say. Look at this.”

I’d looked at it more times than I could count. I’d already seen the room Auntie Tera rented out for it, and everything seemed perfectly legit. I mean…yeah, it looked like one of those rooms you toss convicts into after hooking them up in a straitjacket, but if you’re gonna make a quirky plan like this, you’re gonna do it with a little touch of totally weird.

“Not the room,” Lance said when I brought it up. “The cannon.”

The Linen-nator 9000, version 1.0 (© Succubi Enterprises). Twenty feet tall with a fifty-foot range. Meant to sit in the middle of a pretty big battleground (if that’s what you wanna call a pillow fight room). I liked it, but I was a preteen hopped up on sugar and anime 24/7 and therefore liked everything the least bit quirky. Basically I’m admitting I look before I leap even on my best days, and having a genius big brother with a bit of a cynical streak, believe it or not, doesn’t do a damn thing to fix it.

“Come on, bro!” I whined ‘cause that always helps. “It’s just like laser tag with pillows! Even Bianca and Sophia are coming!”
“To see their benefactor blasted into next week?”

“That’s why Auntie Tera wants you to make it. ‘Cause you’re a genius and you’re the best shot we have at getting it right…oh, and she wants you to upgrade the rifles you made last year.”

It was at that point that Lance rolled his eyes and swivelled his chair back away, tinkering away at what I was pretty sure was another watch just like his. And yeah, that was all well and good, but I’m not the little sister that gets ignored, dang it! So I parked my tiny tush right on his workspace and gave him the brattiest pout I could. Looked him right in the eyes, knit my eyebrows, and crossed my arms. He tried to lift me off. No dice. He tried to push me off. Nuh-uh. He gave me the Dwayne Johnson eyebrow, and I gave him the Grumpy Cat frown. I can do this all day, man. All freakin’ day.

“Tina…” he said.

“Hmph!”

Yeah. Hmph. Says so much and it ain’t even a real word. No, I’m not too old to use it ‘cause I am the utter cuteness and I can get whatever I want by being the utter cuteness.

What? You don’t believe me?

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it,” Lance said. “It’s just that there’s so much that needs to be figured out beforehand. Like…this guy we’re doing the whole thing for.”

“Chris.”

“Yeah, Chris. How much experience does he have with this sort of thing?”

“Literally gets smacked with a pillow every time he and Auntie Tera meet up.”

“…oooooookay.”

If I knew, I’d tell ya.

“The point is,” Lance said. “There’s a lot of variables to this that all need to line up perfectly. How can we make the cannon so everyone playing can use it on the fly? How can we set up the play zone so there’s enough room to bob and weave out of its range? How can we make sure that anyone who does get shot by the cannon won’t have to go to the hospital afterwards?”

Good point, but stay sharp, folks! Harlita’s prepping her smarty-pants slapshot!

“That’s really the deciding factor,” he went on. “The ammo might be pillows, but firing out of something like this? It’s like if you dropped a baseball off the Empire State Building. It wouldn’t matter if it was two pounds or five pounds or whatever. Once it hits terminal velocity, it might as well be an asteroid.”

“Right. Except gravity goes down, not left and right. So it’ll get slower as it goes. And this isn’t the Empire State Building, it’s like twenty feet from the wall.”

Form looks good…she shoots!

“Right, but people can still get concussions from pillow fights.”

“Not if you don’t aim for the head. And this thing is supposed to be manual, right?”

“…right.”

SCORES!!!

“Ah-ha, and you thought I didn’t pay attention in science class.”

“I most certainly didn’t, Little Miss Straight A.”

Yeah, I’m pretty awesome. More awesome was that I could see him starting to come around as he looked at the blueprints, then up at the ceiling, and then closed his eyes and gently bit his lip. Most people had a thinking cap. My big brother had a thinking ritual.

“Materials all together?” he asked.

“Yep!”

“Testing area secured?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Payment sorted?”

“Rina and Bran won’t kidnap you…without advance notice.”

“Ugh…”

“Urrrrrrrrgh.”

“Urrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!

“URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!”

What’re you looking at?! Be funny, get lovey!

“Gods, you’re lucky you’re so cute…” Lance sighed, then groaned again when I put on my sugar face and gave him a big hug.
“You’re the best, bro!”

“I wouldn’t get too excited just yet. The only way I can accurately test this thing would be on an actual person, and no. You aren’t even on the longlist for candidates.”

I wanted to argue just from force of habit, but he was right. You had to work hard and long to get a good body. Longer still if you wanted it to stand this kind of blast over and over ‘til it was just right.
Like, say…six hundred years?
***
“Aaaaaand I wish I had nothing to do with this…” Lance grumbled.
“Hey, you already built it,” I said. “No sense getting cold feet now.”
“No sense getting cold feet when we’re using my girlfriend to test a high-powered pillow cannon.”

“I was gonna ask Monica, but Kumi-chan still whoops her ass in wrestling. And Sandra straight up said no.”

Actually it was more like she looked up from the five-hundred pound barbell she was deadlifting and gave me the cocked eyebrow and bemused smirk combo until I figured it out myself. Still love ya, big sis.
For real, though, the Linen-nator came out great. Lance already fixed it up to make it a little less of a death machine. Widening the barrel to increase the spread and lower the range, programming a failsafe so the shots wouldn’t go above 20 KPH, and asking everyone for miles to PLEASE not fiddle with it. I figured that’d be the best he could do. Rule #1 of the Realm: you can ask them not to do something and have a better than crap chance of them listening. You can tell them not to do something and expect all the tricksters to come out and play. Gotta keep ‘em separated.

Speaking of tricksters, we spied a red tail swishing around inside the barrel, making the last few adjustments Lance needed and loading her own special breed of ammo. The kind of silk and cotton only the Seamstress of the Realm could weave, I saw when I walked around to take a look.

“Those are some pretty fancy pillows, Auntie.”

She spun around and smooched my cheek before I could even finish talking. Heck of a sight seeing her ditch her trademark jacket to come and help us out, but I guess she made up for it with the bandeau top/overall combo and the fancy red ribbon keeping her hair up in a ponytail. The sexy engineer look definitely worked on her, but then again, so did everything.

“Only the best for my dearest Brother,” she said, then looked over at Lance. “Thanks for pouring your all into this, love.”

Lance looked like he wanted to say something snarky, but Tera has those eyes that could make even a god go weak in the knees (or her super cynical nephew building a death machine against his will). That’s right, baby! Read ‘em and weep! Girls! We run this mother!

I mean, he knew that, anyway. Look at his girlfriend. You don’t get a girl like Akumi-doji without having a little respect for the fairer sex.

“Well, it’s not any of us that needs to be impressed,” he said and went back to his last few adjustments. “And while I’m on the subject and before someone tries to blindside me, seriously. What is it with you two and pillows?”

“Just he and I each indulging our inner child,” Auntie Tera answered with a sly little shrug. “You’re never too old to have a little…fun.”

Aaaaaand fishy face! …you know, when you open and close your mouth a ton of times like you’re going to answer but you can’t find the words? That’s a fishy face. Auntie Tera served them up like the pro of all pros, and my big brother wore them like a guy who’d already finished high school by the time he got his first real girlfriend.

Hey, don’t laugh so hard. I reckon that’s a ton of you guys, too. And I don’t think too many of you would have it in you to score an oni.

Lance called in Japanese once the fishy face was gone.

That’s what she said.

…I mean, it was. You ever meet Akumi? Fam, she is JACKED! And the sweetest girl this side of Sugarville. It’s a really cool combination, and really fun to watch when Lance ran over to help her get the last few bits of protective gear fastened on.

he said.

she answered and gave Auntie Tera a little wave.

Then she did this cute little pose where she bent down until her face was level with his and winked, pretty much guaranteeing she was learning way too much from Monica.

she joked even though she actually wasn’t joking.

I aspire to the adorable romance between my big brother and his oni girlfriend. Like, when you’re strong enough to bench-press a car and your man STILL worries about you getting hurt? And then he gets all cute and nervous when you get flirty and you just wanna hug him ‘til he’s permanently stuck to you? And now I’m sad ‘cause I really want a significant other but I’m too tomboyish for boys and too quirky for girls?

This isn’t supposed to be about me? Thank you, random audience member!

“Okay,” Lance sighed, pulling the last strap into place and then punching some code in on the Linen-nator’s interface. “If everyone’s ready for this to go to complete crap, the targeting system is set to only shoot at the torso. The end product’s going to be manual, but I have on automatic now so we can test the firepower. Too far under the threshold and it’s a love tap. Too far above it and Florence is gonna have a sudden influx of patients in the trauma room.”

“And that’s why we hired a genius,” I said.

“Hm. Anyhow, we’re gonna start with thirty-five KPH and taper it down from there. And please don’t mess around with it because I’d rather not blast Akumi back to 1955.”

“Hey, I love her, too! What’re you looking at me for?!”

“I’m looking at both of you.”

And there was Auntie Tera, one hand on her heart with her mouth open in a fake gasp. I think the word I’m looking for is “theatrical”, but I don’t reckon opening night on Broadway could top her.

“Moi?! Why, my dearest Lance, I would never! We’re already stretching the limit with the plutonium reserves I installed!”

“Huh?!”

“Well, how else are we supposed to generate the 1.21 gigawatts to power the flux capacitor?! Great Scott!!!”

“…you know, one of these days I’m gonna have a heart attack. And I’m gonna blame it on succubi the world over.”

That’s our Auntie. Playful even in the face of potential suckage. Such is life and love and everything in between. Suddenly getting a little preachy, eh? Go back to being funny, ya little diamond eye cutie pie!

Probably two weeks later when Lance finally learned to take a joke, he traced his fingers over the interface, and ladies and gents and enbys! Zee Linen-nay-tah!!! SHE LIVES!!! …and she’s a lot louder than I thought she’d be. Like…wow, she was loud. Work in progress, yeah, but it sure didn’t sound like a pillow cannon. It kinda sounded like…I dunno, NASA getting ready for liftoff?

…uh oh.

Lance asked. Akumi called back and took up a stance.

“Awesome…awesome. …okay. Linen-nator 9000, firepower test A-1. In three…two…welcome to Jackass.”

Just to put things in perspective here, Akumi is about 6’3” not counting her horns, weighs a little over two hundred pounds, and is about as close to a pro sumo wrestler as I’ve ever met. TL;DR? She’s a big strong girl, which was why I asked her to help out in the first place.

Guess how well it went.

“HIDEBU!!!”

Thrown across the room, flat against the wall. So hard that she stuck to the wall and the pillow stuck to her before she fell face first on the floor. I’d tell Lance to put an airbag in that armour, but let’s be real. The airbag just decked her at Mach 3.

Oh, and Bianca was here! Cool!

“I take it that WASN’T supposed to happen?” our resident vampire queen asked.

“No,” Lance answered…and broke my lifelong assumption that I’d never be scared of him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Lance, darling. I don’t mean to undermine you, but before you point fingers, are you sure you converted the speed right?”

Yeah, bro. I mean, thank you for at least listening to her and checking, but Jay-zus. Give a girl a heart attack, why don’t ya? I guess it was just good that Bianca was on the money when all was said and done.

“They called you a genius, Parker, and you actually believed it…” he grumbled, then slammed his forehead against the panel and groaned out loud. “Goddammit, why are imperial measurements even a thing?!”

So instead of thirty-five kilometres per hour, Akumi got hit at thirty-five MILES per hour. Okay, gotcha…sorry, just doing the math here. Okay, so take MPH and divide it by…what was it…1.6093 decimal number that runs on forever, and you get KPH, so…screw it, where’s my freakin’ calculator?

Ah, here we go! So thirty-five MPH equals about fifty-six KPH. Which in car crash terms equals a 90% chance of death…proving once and for all that it doesn’t always pay to know stuff.

But it does pay to be an oni.

she laughed, getting up and dusting herself off like champ of all champs and giving us a wave.

“Glad I could make the test run,” Bianca called back.

“And the end of my relationship…” we could hear Lance whining as he ran over, but Akumi ruffled his hair and pecked him on the cheek before he could make too big of a stink. Love him to death, but even I gotta say he needs to take a load off. Like, damn. She was hugging and loving on him like nothing happened. There ain’t a single end scenario better than that.

“Pardonne-moi, little lady,” Bianca cooed in my ear. “Aren’t I owed a hug?”

Well, she got it. And a big kiss from Auntie Tera. We’ve got a big weird family tree, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Bravo getting him to agree to this,” Bianca chuckled. “I’ll certainly have to thank him later…personally.”

Never thought you’d hear that getting bitten counts as a reward, eh? Well, I never thought Krampus was real until I apparently got kidnapped by him…

…long story.

…that I don’t remember.

…PLOT!!!

“Everything’s been arranged?” Auntie Tera asked.

“And then some,” Bianca answered. “My dear benefactor’s received his calling card to Pleasures. Sophia will be along to escort him. I hope you don’t mind, my love, but I borrowed your girls for a while to set up a small warp. Just enough for the dice to roll as they should…”

“They wouldn’t miss such a chance. No…suspicions to report on our guest’s end?”

“Oh, enough to fill the naughty-and-nice list. One guess which side we stand on.”

Still thirteen…is what I’d say if I didn’t have the biggest fan crush on Jensen Ackles. And Joe Keery. And Charlie Heaton. Oh, and Joseph Quinn, too! Gah, Stranger Things! Too many sexy boys!!! STAHP!!!
“I gotta ask, though…” I spoke up. “…is Chris really okay with this? The whole pillow smacking thing. Sorry, Lance got me wondering about it and now I can’t stop.”

“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat, love,” Bianca answered and drummed her fingers through my hair. “A good thing it doesn’t hurt to be…curious around these parts.”

Where the kitties were as curious as the rest of us. Still adorbs, though.

“It’s just something I do to show him my love,” Auntie Tera mewled (I think I used that word right). “…or my bemusement that he so often deserves. Nothing I wouldn’t mind done to myself.”

“So if I grabbed that pillow and smacked you with it, you wouldn’t get mad?”

“That depends. Are you feeling…lucky?”
Trick question. She’d be paying attention to me, so I’d be lucky either way.

“Alright, girls,” Bianca laughed and wrapped an arm around each of us. “Let’s save that banter for the battlefield. My darling Chris deserves nothing but our all…and don’t worry your pretty head, Tina. He’ll love meeting you.”

I actually wasn’t worried at all. C’mon, what’s not to love about me? Have you ever met me? I’m me!

“Well, as long as no one gets too hurt,” I said, which pretty much painted a big fat target for Lance to shoot with a snarky comment in three…two…

“Thankfully no, or else we’d have a very angry ogre girl to answer to.”

“Yeah, only Kumi-chan doesn’t have an angry bone her body and could give you diabetes she’s so sweet?”

So sweet that said ogre girl swept Lance up into her big muscly arms bridal style and nuzzled his cheek. Romantic aspirations. Right in my face. Really want a boyfriend now and dreading turning this into a Valentine’s special.

Akumi said.

“To sweep dear Lance off his feet, I’d assume,” Tera chuckled.

Then Auntie and Bianca swarmed them, and then all three started planting kisses all over Lance’s face. Me jelly? Yep.

“Um, help?!” Lance asked by the time his face was all red with blush and lipstick.

It took us about ten more minutes to get back on track, then about five tries and prying Akumi off the wall twice before we got the power just right.

No pressure.

***

I actually thought we’d given too much away when the big day came and Chris was a no-show at first. Auntie Tera and Bianca went in for a few final touches and first pick of cover while I sat outside the door and waited. It’d be almost too boring if I didn’t know what was coming up. Either way, I thanked holy Lilith herself when I heard a portal open nearby and two voices getting closer.

“This seems like a prank,” I heard one voice say.

“A prank? From the Queen?” giggled another. “Why, don’t you know our kind at all?”

“Yeah. I do.”

I got a little peek of him. Short reddish hair. Glasses. Some nice scruff. Pretty tall (though I’m smol, so that’s not saying a whole lot). Good lookin’ guy, all in all. Though he was looking straight at me when he and supremely sexy Sophia came around the corner. That’s a problem.

“Hey, who was that?” I heard Chris say just as I zipped through the door and jumped behind the closest cover.

“Who was who?”

“That girl I just saw.”

“There’s girls all over this place, babe. You’re gonna have to be a little specific.”

Yeah, she and Monica hung out a lot. I won’t say how those hangouts usually ended, but you already know in the back of your head, don’t ya?

…see?! He knows!

Chris threw open the door not too long after I managed to hide, and he saw the same décor that made me jaw hit the floor when I’d made it there earlier. The whole warehouse-sized room was covered in pillows. Like, so many pillows. Mom is scared there’s so many pillows. There were tiny bunkers and trenches to hide in, a couple sniper towers on each wall, and the crowning jewel itself sitting on a pedestal in the middle. The Linen-nator 9001. Fully operational and tailormade for all your supernatural elimination needs!

…wait, wrong story.

“What have you got planned for me now, Sis?” Chris murmured.
He started to turn for the door, but no dice. Sophia already locked it, and now she was giving him that weird hungry look I see older succubi give their S.O. all the time. Salacious, I think the word is? Chris is looking at me again, so best to play it cute.

“Hi-eeee!” I said and waved. “We haven’t met before. I’m Tina.”
“…yeah, okay. Hi, Tina,” he answered after looking at me like I was about to jump him. “Any chance Tera set you up to this?”

He turned to look at Sophia again, but she was already setup in a dugout. Stripped down to a bra and loose PJ pants, pillow rifle up on her shoulder like if Rambo holed up in a Sleep Country.

“Well, you know the saying, babe,” Sophia giggled.

There was Bianca up on the nearby sniper tower, her rifle aimed down and mounted up on her bare leg. God DAMN, she looked awesome in that nightgown!

“Love smacks!” she called.

Then the Linen-nator roared to life, and up popped Auntie Tera. Satin PJs with her initials woven into the back, evil grin plastered all over her face, rocking the battle-born bedhead like a pro of all pros.

“And so do I!”

Boom goes the Linen-nator, smack goes the pillow. Right on target and with the right power to topple Chris safely into the closest dugout. Not gonna lie, I was scared we made him a little mad. Smoking him like that on his birthday? That’s like number one in the book of dick moves.

But he was smiling like…well, a kid on his birthday, so I reckon all was well with the universe. Though that pillow rifle he was picking up was modelled after Lance’s combat shotgun and I was the closest target, so…yeah. Cover sounds good right about now.

“Of course you realize this means WAR!!!”

Free for all. Surprising each other around corners. Pairing up only to blast our partner when they weren’t looking. The winged among us taking flight only to get shot down moments later, and once the Linen-nator got going, you’d see one of us hurtling into the wall every couple seconds. But we were laughing and carrying on like the little kids we were. Nothing hurt. Heck, we barely got the wind knocked out of us when we got hit. It was just that much fun, and I don’t even think we were keeping score.

I ducked behind a pile to take a breather, and there was Chris doing the same. No point-blank shots. Just the two of us smiling at each other. Guess Mom was right about me being a contagious ball of good vibes. I’d barely met the guy, but I already felt like we’d been friends our whole lives.

“Soooooo, yeah!” I chirped. “Happy birthday!!!”

“What’re you saying it like that for?” he asked. “We’re just getting started!”

Best pillow fight ever? Dude, you had to be there.

Another week of not being well–which, honestly, is something of a concern as my family is well aware of. Still, at some point the issues need to be set aside for the sake of finding some …

Focus
By TeraS

In the realm of photography, the concept of focus is so very important. It’s not just a question of sharpening up the image to be revealed, however. A blurry image, one that is completely out of focus, can still provide the smallest of clues as to what the photographer was focused upon. Indistinct shapes suggest one possibility or another; the shading sometimes offers that little bit more information about what the subject might be. The brightness gives rise to the idea of the matter in question. Then there are the colours, ranging from smeared and blurred to being awash with everything else that has been captured. It’s something of a mixture to be tested and retested until the correct formula is found and the end result takes its fullest form.

For him, it’s something between a hobby and a calling. His flaw, at least he sees it as such, is seeking perfection in what is created with the snap of the shutter and what eventually is revealed in the darkroom where the proof appears. But before the fixing and setting comes the actual moment of the picture being taken. There is time spent sorting out what the setting will be, the positioning of the subject, dealing with the placing of this accessory or that one. Hours are spent on what the idea is, but the reality of the moment seemingly has its own purpose.

This isn’t a frustration, far from it. He knows she has her own ideas, that her scheming will influence the end result. What begins as a simple idea turns toward something more encompassing, more revealing, far better than where his first thoughts had led. But, of course, it would; she desires something, as well: a note from the past to the future, a moment in time frozen to be looked back on fondly, not a thing of art to be displayed in some museum or show; that’s not what the focus is meant to be.

Being the photographer, and seemingly in charge, though that can be debatable at times, he corrals the focus of the work, positions the parts of the puzzle here and there, fitting them together and then repositioning them to try again. It’s very much like herding cats, though in the midst of setting the smallest details he realizes that these particular subjects are a bit more difficult to get sorted. Then he returns to the camera, plays with the shutter, exposure, and, of course, the focus to bring all into perfection.

Slowly resolving the image, the camera brings into focus fiery red and gleaming silver. A bit more and deepest ebon black and bright platinum blonde shimmer. Now the focus becomes vital, shades of green made to draw the eye and the focus towards the peak of resolution. The smallest adjustment either makes or breaks the end result, he knows. The subjects tease from the other side of the camera, wondering what is taking so long in many suggestive ways to try and break his focus. A bemused smile is evident through the viewfinder as he chides them to be good and behave, though that really will do little except draw more of the naughtiness out, resolving into the end result, he’s sure.

There’s a moment, one never knows when it comes, where the looks are perfect, the expressions beyond words, the moment being captured can manage to hold onto some of the perfection as best it could. The shutter clicks and clicks again, the light being pressed onto the film and exposed. It’s unexpected, in spite of the preparations before; the subjects pout and moan they weren’t ready for the picture to be taken, waving for him to join them. He sets the timer, leaving the position of observer of the moment, becoming instead part of the moment. The camera is alone when the shutter fires again.

In his darkroom later, he watches as a sheet of paper floats in a tray, the image resolving into form. Three figures, embracing, looking towards each other, the camera forgotten. The last detail appears and the image finds itself placed with the others taken before.

He regards the completed image, but his focus shifts as his loves come closer, having watched his efforts, to join in his passions, placing focus on their passions together. It is a reflection of love shared, the focus on which is always perfect.

Click here to go see the bonus panel!

Hovertext:
Wake, work, wake, wink is the best sad story you can tell in 4 words that begin and end with the same sound.

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My year has gotten off to a delightfully poor start, though I am still hopeful that things will be improving with time. Those who know of what I am talking about will know what I am referring to. But it does offer a chance to return to parts of the Realm I haven’t been to in quite some time, even if that’s only for an …

Appointment
By TeraS

It is rather uncommon of Tera to miss an appointment. She might be delayed at times, though her explanation for being so causes the concept of what a Tera minute is exactly to come forth. That particular esoteric idea is a source of argument among Realm scholars in much the same way that the importance of the number sixty-nine in the makeup of the universe in which the Realm exists provides endless musing over the Goddess and her particularly odd sense of humour. The Library currently has an entire wing to that subject matter as a result. The staff are considering building an extension–the sixty-ninth one, to be exact.

Regardless, we return to Tera missing an appointment, which in this particular case resulted in the blue-tailed doctor of the Realm, Florence, becoming irritated. Being that she is Tera’s doctor, and it is of upmost importance that the Monarch of the Realm is in better than excellent health, such an event becomes concerning, perhaps on the edge of being worrisome. It simply would never do that her Monarch would be unable to attend to an appointment. The rumours would fly, tails would be in a twist, and the entire Realm would be rushing about.

And so the concerned blue-tail arrived at the home of the rulers of the Realm, medical bag in hand, knocking on the door … vigorously … which then brought Keith to open the door in surprise: “Florence?” She noted that the King appeared to be in good health, his delightful, long, red tail turned about into the shape of a question mark, his next question an obvious one: “What did she do?” Shaking his head and motioning for the blue-tail to follow, Keith chuckled: “Ask Tera.”

As the King seemed not to be willing to explain the issue at hand, Florence made her way to their bedroom and entered unannounced to be greeted with the sight of her Monarch’s tanned back, her hair a tangled mess over the pillow she was moaning into, and her red tail flopped to the side, partly covered by the bedsheets.

Setting aside the eroticism of the moment, and falling back on her training as a doctor, the concerned blue-tail found a place beside the Queen, opened her bag and started to examine what the issue was. It didn’t take long to figure out that the problem was very clear, even through Tera’s moans and complaints about being poked and prodded. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Florence sighed: “What, exactly, did you do?”

Still buried in her pillow, Tera mumbled: “I sprained my tail.”

Given that the tails of succubi and incubi are so very sensitive, this was not a minor issue by any means. But a diagnosis would require further and more detailed information from the clearly under-the-weather patient before her: “How, exactly, did you do that?”

What followed was a very long and detailed explanation of the attempted ambushing by the ebon-maned Queen of the Realm of her King, which didn’t quite go exactly to plan when she slipped on the stairs and fell, her tail trying to save her, but failing to hold onto the banister, and causing the somewhat-overly-horny (though that was a matter of perspective, of course) red-tail to tumble into her Eternal’s arms … with a sprained tail.

Biting her lip, Florence considered what might be done, what could be done, and what should be done. Noting the condition of her Queen and the obvious concern of her King, the Physician of the Realm made her proclamation: “I recommend staying in bed …”

The Queen winced as she tried to move: “But …”

Florence continued: “… with your Eternal …”

Tera blinked.

The doctor put away her tailoscope: ”… who will have to provide massages …” The tip of Tera’s long red tail, which could barely lift itself, seemed to look at the blue-tailed doctor as the cure was explained: ”… and other exercises, which I will be prescribing, which should be done vigorously.” The doctor couldn’t miss the smile of her Monarch’s Eternal as she rummaged in her bag for a pen: “I will, of course, be monitoring your progress and you will remain in bed under the care of your Eternal.”

Tera rolled onto her side and frowned: “I can’t do that! The appointment schedule is overflowing and …” Keith reached over and started to massage that one particularly sensitive spot right at the base of Tera’s tail … following doctor’s orders, of course. The result was exactly as expected: “… I … have … mmmm … to …”

As her Monarch shivered and moaned in delight, Florence finished scribbling out directions for Keith in her completely illegible handwriting and placed them on the bedside table.

The doctor’s red-tailed Monarch mewled under the care of her Eternal, who sighed: “Be good, Tera. Doctor’s orders.” Then he mused: “How vigorously?”

Florence gathered the last of her instruments, stuffing them into her bag: “I expect the entire Realm to be well aware that their Monarch is indisposed. Loudly and often.”

Kissing his Eternal lightly, Keith chuckled: “Oh, I think we can manage that.”

Departing the home of her Monarch, the sounds of a recovering patient running out behind her, Florence couldn’t help her giggle. Simone would be cancelling a lot of appointments this week. Florence was sure the Receptionist wouldn’t mind that at all.

The thing about portal travel over that distance would be the sudden change in the pollen profile. Suddenly discovering hitherto unknown allergies, and not gradually like on a road trip. One breath would be all the pollutants you’re used to, next breath would be a full lungful of exciting new spores and molds. Even if you had really mild seasonal allergies, I think the sudden change would tickle the stoutest sinuses.

I lucked out on the allergy front, personally. I sneeze about six times in the spring, take a loratadine, and I’m pretty much good for the year. My wife on the other hand loves mangos, and you guessed it, is allergic to mangos. Isn’t that always the way? I’m fully indifferent to mangos. I don’t actively seek them out, but if a juice blend has mango in it, I don’t actively avoid it. I guess I’m actually not a fan of just straight up slices of mango. It’s kind of slimy feeling. They’re like… anti-pears. I mean, pears are kind of slimy too, but they’re also gritty. I guess mangos are really anti-apples. Apples being crisp and fibrous, and non-slimy.

Really went off on a tangent there. Anyway, superheroes!

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The December Vote Incentive is still up! The new on is being worked on.

Please enjoy Cora in a workout outfit. Variant outfits and lack thereof over at Patreon, as well as a comic to put it all in context. Spoiler, Cora’s ship is like a Roman orgy most of the time.

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Double res version will be posted over at Patreon. Feel free to contribute as much as you like.