Daily Drabble (Day 6 & 7)

Really stuck to my guns on this one, didn't I?

I thought, for my final two, I'd do Bad Space related drabbles, to save me the trouble of inventing more characters and situations. The first one is an extremely direct sequel to Hull Damage – in fact, it picks up chronologically one paragraph after the ending of the book. (Spoilers, I guess?)

decamp [dih-kamp] verb
1. to depart from a camp; to pack up equipment and leave a camping ground
2. to depart quickly, secretly, or unceremoniously

The ensuing drink is enjoyed in silence, one last brew before they decamp away for parts and piracies unknown. Nemo finishes first, simply dropping the empty tankard onto the table with a clatter. Odisseus comes second, accompanied by a ribald Ortoki belch. Two-Bit Switch nearly can't swallow his entire share in one swig and only by repeatedly slapping the table does he manage to see the beverage through to the bottom. It's Moira Quicksilver who cares nothing for speed, who savors each gulp, until the anticipated bolt of ditrogen streaks across the Afterburn and strikes her square in the shoulder.

The second drabble is a prequel to GALACTIC MENACE (June 2014) and occurs some forty-eight hours before the book begins.

verisimilitude [ver-uh-si-mil-i-tood] noun
1. the appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability
2. something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth

When the door lock is overridden and the Imperium response squad, led by their Jhironese bounty hunter escort, swarms into the motel room, the moment's grim verisimilitude is broken mostly by the culprits' utter willingness to surrender. As expected, there are four present – two men, an Ortok and a woman – their eight hands upraised in compliance. Crates upon crates upon crates, each bearing the condemning “DOXYCHORAPHUM” label, are pushed into every available corner. The outlaw in the duster, the evident leader, steps an innocent inch forward and spikes an eyebrow. “Did you find the place alright?”

Come back tomorrow for the return of Iconine Iconine!

Daily Drabble (Day 5)

Getting a leetle behind on these. I'll try to catch up.

quell [kwel] verb
1. to suppress; put an end to; extinguish
2. to vanquish; subdue
3. to quiet or allay (emotions or anxieties)

Here's the drabble!

This freetling made a dismal drinking companion. This mule-piss wine, this mule-piss winesink seemed an almost rich reward for a decade paid to the Pits of Punishment; at least when compared to the pleasure of Hariqa Fireskin's company. Already he'd quelled half a dozen of her epithets for him – “Tasque the Tall”, “Tasque the Towering”, “Tasque the Tried and True” – but couldn't, ultimately, shake the name the crowds gifted him: “Tasque the Troll.” Let her scribble her words, let her rhapsodize his heroism; Tasque was a free man and Tasque was going to drink.

 Come back tomorrow for more!

Daily Drabble (Day Four)

Apologies about the tardiness of the post. Yesterday's word was, well, very limiting. Today's was much easier, however.

chuffed [chuhft] adjective
1. delighted, pleased, satisfied
2. annoyed, displeased, disgruntled

Which, of course, I needed to have some fun with:

Quite frankly, Mr. Yeboah was rather chuffed about this entire mess. On the contrary, Mr. Wugford was really rather pleasantly chuffed about this turn of events. Certainly both men could agree upon the matter of the London Zoo requiring its replacement hippopotamus and they could also certainly concur that their counterpart was acting rather like a persnickety ninny or an ignorant buffoon, respectively. The issue that divided them, Yeboah in favor of zoological advancement and Wugford in favor of selling more admission tickets, was the fate of this bright green hippopotamus the Zoo of Samarkand had delivered them that morning.

Come back tomorrow for something (possibly) less silly!

Daily Drabble (Day 3)

Tell you the truth – this one was a toughie. I specifically didn't wanna do anything genre-related for this one, plus I had a tricky word today.

percipient [per-sip-ee uh nt] adjective
1. perceiving or capable of perceiving
2. having perception; discerning; discriminating
noun
3. a person or a thing that perceives

And here's the end product; sorta a new riff on an old story I wrote in college.

Of course I fuck up – a perfectly placed fuck-up has quickly become the hallmark of all my interactions with her. Damage control; a simple misspeaking, an ill-chosen word at the absolute caboose end of my previous sentence. I ramble forward, undeterred, banking on the wonton-and-a-half I'm currently chewing to camouflage my indiscretion. Even clicking her chopsticks calculatedly together across the table, she is far too percipient a conversationalist to be fooled any such amateurish tactic of mine. “Was that something you weren't intending on telling me?” is her question, a fair question, one I'm devastatingly unprepared to answer.

Come back tomorrow for more!

Daily Drabble (Day 2)

D&D was on my mind today, so I immortalized a scene from today's session in the drabble. Here's the prompt:

lilt [lilt] noun

1. rhythmic swing or cadence

2. a lilting song or tune

Aaaaand here's the drabble:

The tracks are no younger than the sunrise. One set of footprints, broader and deeper than its four contemporaries, clearly belongs to a goliath. Another two wear campaigner's boots, the first bearing the distinct tread of a habitual marcher, the second being far more diminutive, childlike. The final two barely qualify as footprints at all; mere scuffs on the surface of the stiff savannah soil. Cutter glances between each of her four comrades, awaiting the verdict amid swaying waves of red dzhate grass. “It's a cliché,” she reports, in her affected elven lilt. “but we're going in circles.”

Thanks for reading! Come back tomorrow for more and check out more exploits from the Nameless Company at the campaign's Obsidian Portal page!

And Now For Something Marginally Different

Sick of Iconine Iconine? Too bad; she's back in seven days, but until then, you might be relieved to know that I'll be running a similar, if not quite so library-themed, writing exercise on the blog. Voila!

Seven minutes in OpenOffice Paint. I'm an artisan.

Every day this week, while I recharge my Thousand-Name Town juices, I'm gonna be writing a one-off drabble (hundred word short story, for the initiated). They'll probably be random, non sequitur and not necessarily of particular quality but, for the sake of variety, I'm figger it's worth a shot.

To further mix it up (and to give myself a flotation device), I'm gonna add one condition to each day's drabble. It must include the "Word of the Day" featured on Dictionary.com, my preferred internet definitionary. Today's worth, for example, is "ingress".

ingress \ IN - gres \  , noun
1. the act of going in or entering
2. the right to enter
3. a means or place of entering; entryway
4. Astronomy; immersion

And thusly, I wrote this drabble:

The once trustworthy wood of Ran's naginata is made treacherous by sweaty palms. She maneuvers to stand between the child and the doorway, the shrine's single point of ingress, at once urging the boy to cease his mewling and praying to any attentive gods to grant her fighting skill to match thirty some men. These Purple Sparrow clansmen ransack each of the temple's rooms, door by door, and it's to be only a number of breaths until they find hers. As she counts each exhale, Ran wonders absently how much rice the boy's head might fetch from a grateful shogunate.

Come back tomorrow for another!