Proserpina’s grades have not improved.
One stolen Saturday, Elijah takes her ragged disguise of a sleeve and leads her up on top of the cinema, then over a series of other roofs to a viewpoint down on Maple Street. Horse drovers and motorists shout elaborate curses as a phalanx of silent women march very, very slowly, bound together by a hand-stitched banner: SUFFRAGE.
“They’re mad,” says Elijah admiringly. “Half-dollar says one of them gets her head kicked in.”
Proserpina doesn’t think Miss Havisham makes eye contact from the front of the ranks, but at this distance she isn’t sure.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
“Putting legal limits on kaiju rampages?” Bernhardt is aghast. “That’s tantamount to nationalization!”
“It’s a natural role for the Kaijuville Council,” says Aguilar.
“Every citizen has a God-given right to stumble into an unguarded nuclear facility, bathe his body in strange energies and grow into a hundred-foot-tall mutant,” says Bernard firmly. “To say otherwise is, is–”
Before he can pick an unfashionable ethos, Murdron and Garmegula accidentally stomp the council building to pieces, and Garmegula sets the ruins aflame.
Later, Vulfhor stops by and, a bit shamefacedly, picks out and eats the corpses.
It’s tough all over in Kaijuville.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
“It was your grandmother’s iPod,” smiles the old man. “She’d want you to have it.”
Ashera takes it with care: it’s oddly balanced, powered by induction now instead of the old corrosive battery. To MK, from JW, with love, reads the engraving amid a thicket of tiny scratches. Now stop stealing mine.
“Thanks, Ganga!” Ashera’s already thinking how hot it will look on a fob chain at SteamPunkt. “Did you see what I got you?”
“Oh! Yes.” He examines the coin-sized drive. “This has the whole Internet on it?”
“Just up to 2010. It might be fun to play with.”
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The hardest part of professional mourning is getting your hair back into your head. Francesca’s expected to rip out big hanks of it when the decedent passes her, and with four services a week she could be bald (and crying real tears).
“AAAAAAAAAA you see Ladonna? I’m sure she’s wearing dark blueEEEEAAAAAA,” she mutters to Edivige.
Edivige yanks out some of the strands they carefully braided in earlier. “Thinks she’s fooling everyone, too,” she agrees. “WHYYYEEE.”
“Bet UNGH spilled sauce UNGH her black one at thUNGH Santoni wake.”
“So unprofessional,” sniffs Edivige, and prepares for her running leap into the coffin.
The guy from ConVex takes one look at the holes in the lawn and whistles, low and long. “Yep, I’d say you’ve got hobbits.”
“Do we have to use poison?” asks Felda nervously. “Is there… I don’t know, one of those cruelty-free trap things?”
“Aww, traps are no good with these fellers,” chuckles the exterminator. “There is an inner strength in hobbits that will not long suffer imprisonment! No, I recommend our ultrasonic emitter, just $189.95.”
By evening they’re knocking down their round little doors in their haste to escape, yelping about quests or something. Felda keeps her cat indoors.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Justinian stared at the dusty temple. “Let them–
This transmission has been blocked by the Authority to Protect the Unprotected from Content They Must be Protected From (APRUCOT-MUPF). Our algorithms consider this work capable of irreparable harm to you or your associates; it would thus be actively irresponsible for APRUCOT-MUPF not to intervene. APRUCOT-MUPF doesn’t even know what the content was! We are, after all, just as subject to harm as you. We–
What?
Well, I mean, no, I guess we haven’t–
Hmm.
Just a peek. Yes.
To make sure it’s safe for you, you undAAAAIIEEEEE
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Lleyol Thrice-Damned just can’t seem to get the Chaos Gods on his cell lately. “Message 503,” chirps his handset. “Σκατά συνοψίζεται στις αÏτηÏίες σας!” Lleyol slaps it closed and stomps the gas in frustration, but his ’89 Nova accelerates only by a whimper. Car issues really are the worst of the Three Damnings.
Koprakan’s waiting in the alley. “Well?”
“I told you I wouldn’t get ahold of them,” says Lleyol. “Try again on the Unsolstice.”
“I need that clean urine today! Damn you four times!”
Lleyol consumes Koprakan’s soul with his accurséd blade, naturally, but his heart’s not in it.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009