#microfic — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #microfic, aggregated by home.social.
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CW: MH, PTSD, combat
Four months and three weeks after leaving "Mother of All", still at Hiiliteräs High Port.
Seeker was resting in the cabin she shared with Dyani. The counselling had stretched out to two weeks, but the doctor had given her a provisional all-clear, provided she kept up with the mental exercises she had been prescribed. And took the medications if she needed them.
There was a knock on the door. She got up, and opened it. The engineer, Sparks was there.
"You've been avoiding me" the older woman stated, "even though the Captain would have told you to talk to me."
"I thought it was not my place to intrude."
"Can I come in?"
Flustered, Seeker stepped aside "Sorry, yes, of course."
Sparks grabbed the desk chair, and sat, gesturing at the door.
Seeker closed it, and then perched on her bunk.Sparks looked at her for a few moments "The counselling has helped, I can see that. But I think you need something more. Scan me. Now."
Seeker started at the sudden unexpected order, and tried to pick up the engineer's mind, only to find - nothing.
"Sparks, you're, your mind, it..." She stuttered.
"Good. It works then," and she pointed to a barely visible comb in her hair, "Now. You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"Your past is your own. The Captain..."
"Seeker, I have known the Captain since we were children. We were separated for about fifteen years, but we're together again now. She would not have offered without me knowing."
"Oh" came the reply in a small voice.
"Now. Here is what you should have asked me about. Much like yours, our home planet is a single polity. Unlike yours it is a democracy - we elect our leaders. About four years after the Captain left on her first voyage as a trader there was a military takeover of the government."
Seeker was staring now.
"They cracked down on any opposition, killing anyone who objected to them. Or that they thought were objecting. For two years they held power, but then we struck back. And we struck hard. The response was brutal. I was working as a grav mechanic, when I saw a family being shot at by a squad of troops. One shot hit a four year old little boy. So I took the grav module I'd been fixing, and drove it into that squad at mach three. Then I picked up their guns, and went hunting."
Sparks looked at the ceiling. "Then I went hunting. When I could not find any more soldiers, I went hunting a bottle. We won. We are a democracy again. And the little boy lived. But. I. Was. Broken."
"What happened then?"
"Annabelle found me. Took me aboard, and showed me how to live again. When she purchased this ship, she named it after me."
After a few minutes Seeker asked "Why? Why tell me?"
"I was never a killer, but I had to become one. To save lives. You are not alone. You can still be a good person, still be worth knowing. Maybe even more so."
"She loves you, doesn't she?"
"And I still don't know why," Sparks replied with a lopsided smile.#SF #SFF #Microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, PTSD, combat
Four months and three weeks after leaving "Mother of All", still at Hiiliteräs High Port.
Seeker was resting in the cabin she shared with Dyani. The counselling had stretched out to two weeks, but the doctor had given her a provisional all-clear, provided she kept up with the mental exercises she had been prescribed. And took the medications if she needed them.
There was a knock on the door. She got up, and opened it. The engineer, Sparks was there.
"You've been avoiding me" the older woman stated, "even though the Captain would have told you to talk to me."
"I thought it was not my place to intrude."
"Can I come in?"
Flustered, Seeker stepped aside "Sorry, yes, of course."
Sparks grabbed the desk chair, and sat, gesturing at the door.
Seeker closed it, and then perched on her bunk.Sparks looked at her for a few moments "The counselling has helped, I can see that. But I think you need something more. Scan me. Now."
Seeker started at the sudden unexpected order, and tried to pick up the engineer's mind, only to find - nothing.
"Sparks, you're, your mind, it..." She stuttered.
"Good. It works then," and she pointed to a barely visible comb in her hair, "Now. You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"Your past is your own. The Captain..."
"Seeker, I have known the Captain since we were children. We were separated for about fifteen years, but we're together again now. She would not have offered without me knowing."
"Oh" came the reply in a small voice.
"Now. Here is what you should have asked me about. Much like yours, our home planet is a single polity. Unlike yours it is a democracy - we elect our leaders. About four years after the Captain left on her first voyage as a trader there was a military takeover of the government."
Seeker was staring now.
"They cracked down on any opposition, killing anyone who objected to them. Or that they thought were objecting. For two years they held power, but then we struck back. And we struck hard. The response was brutal. I was working as a grav mechanic, when I saw a family being shot at by a squad of troops. One shot hit a four year old little boy. So I took the grav module I'd been fixing, and drove it into that squad at mach three. Then I picked up their guns, and went hunting."
Sparks looked at the ceiling. "Then I went hunting. When I could not find any more soldiers, I went hunting a bottle. We won. We are a democracy again. And the little boy lived. But. I. Was. Broken."
"What happened then?"
"Annabelle found me. Took me aboard, and showed me how to live again. When she purchased this ship, she named it after me."
After a few minutes Seeker asked "Why? Why tell me?"
"I was never a killer, but I had to become one. To save lives. You are not alone. You can still be a good person, still be worth knowing. Maybe even more so."
"She loves you, doesn't she?"
"And I still don't know why," Sparks replied with a lopsided smile.#SF #SFF #Microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, PTSD, combat
Four months and three weeks after leaving "Mother of All", still at Hiiliteräs High Port.
Seeker was resting in the cabin she shared with Dyani. The counselling had stretched out to two weeks, but the doctor had given her a provisional all-clear, provided she kept up with the mental exercises she had been prescribed. And took the medications if she needed them.
There was a knock on the door. She got up, and opened it. The engineer, Sparks was there.
"You've been avoiding me" the older woman stated, "even though the Captain would have told you to talk to me."
"I thought it was not my place to intrude."
"Can I come in?"
Flustered, Seeker stepped aside "Sorry, yes, of course."
Sparks grabbed the desk chair, and sat, gesturing at the door.
Seeker closed it, and then perched on her bunk.Sparks looked at her for a few moments "The counselling has helped, I can see that. But I think you need something more. Scan me. Now."
Seeker started at the sudden unexpected order, and tried to pick up the engineer's mind, only to find - nothing.
"Sparks, you're, your mind, it..." She stuttered.
"Good. It works then," and she pointed to a barely visible comb in her hair, "Now. You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"Your past is your own. The Captain..."
"Seeker, I have known the Captain since we were children. We were separated for about fifteen years, but we're together again now. She would not have offered without me knowing."
"Oh" came the reply in a small voice.
"Now. Here is what you should have asked me about. Much like yours, our home planet is a single polity. Unlike yours it is a democracy - we elect our leaders. About four years after the Captain left on her first voyage as a trader there was a military takeover of the government."
Seeker was staring now.
"They cracked down on any opposition, killing anyone who objected to them. Or that they thought were objecting. For two years they held power, but then we struck back. And we struck hard. The response was brutal. I was working as a grav mechanic, when I saw a family being shot at by a squad of troops. One shot hit a four year old little boy. So I took the grav module I'd been fixing, and drove it into that squad at mach three. Then I picked up their guns, and went hunting."
Sparks looked at the ceiling. "Then I went hunting. When I could not find any more soldiers, I went hunting a bottle. We won. We are a democracy again. And the little boy lived. But. I. Was. Broken."
"What happened then?"
"Annabelle found me. Took me aboard, and showed me how to live again. When she purchased this ship, she named it after me."
After a few minutes Seeker asked "Why? Why tell me?"
"I was never a killer, but I had to become one. To save lives. You are not alone. You can still be a good person, still be worth knowing. Maybe even more so."
"She loves you, doesn't she?"
"And I still don't know why," Sparks replied with a lopsided smile.#SF #SFF #Microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, PTSD, combat
Four months and three weeks after leaving "Mother of All", still at Hiiliteräs High Port.
Seeker was resting in the cabin she shared with Dyani. The counselling had stretched out to two weeks, but the doctor had given her a provisional all-clear, provided she kept up with the mental exercises she had been prescribed. And took the medications if she needed them.
There was a knock on the door. She got up, and opened it. The engineer, Sparks was there.
"You've been avoiding me" the older woman stated, "even though the Captain would have told you to talk to me."
"I thought it was not my place to intrude."
"Can I come in?"
Flustered, Seeker stepped aside "Sorry, yes, of course."
Sparks grabbed the desk chair, and sat, gesturing at the door.
Seeker closed it, and then perched on her bunk.Sparks looked at her for a few moments "The counselling has helped, I can see that. But I think you need something more. Scan me. Now."
Seeker started at the sudden unexpected order, and tried to pick up the engineer's mind, only to find - nothing.
"Sparks, you're, your mind, it..." She stuttered.
"Good. It works then," and she pointed to a barely visible comb in her hair, "Now. You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"Your past is your own. The Captain..."
"Seeker, I have known the Captain since we were children. We were separated for about fifteen years, but we're together again now. She would not have offered without me knowing."
"Oh" came the reply in a small voice.
"Now. Here is what you should have asked me about. Much like yours, our home planet is a single polity. Unlike yours it is a democracy - we elect our leaders. About four years after the Captain left on her first voyage as a trader there was a military takeover of the government."
Seeker was staring now.
"They cracked down on any opposition, killing anyone who objected to them. Or that they thought were objecting. For two years they held power, but then we struck back. And we struck hard. The response was brutal. I was working as a grav mechanic, when I saw a family being shot at by a squad of troops. One shot hit a four year old little boy. So I took the grav module I'd been fixing, and drove it into that squad at mach three. Then I picked up their guns, and went hunting."
Sparks looked at the ceiling. "Then I went hunting. When I could not find any more soldiers, I went hunting a bottle. We won. We are a democracy again. And the little boy lived. But. I. Was. Broken."
"What happened then?"
"Annabelle found me. Took me aboard, and showed me how to live again. When she purchased this ship, she named it after me."
After a few minutes Seeker asked "Why? Why tell me?"
"I was never a killer, but I had to become one. To save lives. You are not alone. You can still be a good person, still be worth knowing. Maybe even more so."
"She loves you, doesn't she?"
"And I still don't know why," Sparks replied with a lopsided smile.#SF #SFF #Microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, PTSD, combat
Four months and three weeks after leaving "Mother of All", still at Hiiliteräs High Port.
Seeker was resting in the cabin she shared with Dyani. The counselling had stretched out to two weeks, but the doctor had given her a provisional all-clear, provided she kept up with the mental exercises she had been prescribed. And took the medications if she needed them.
There was a knock on the door. She got up, and opened it. The engineer, Sparks was there.
"You've been avoiding me" the older woman stated, "even though the Captain would have told you to talk to me."
"I thought it was not my place to intrude."
"Can I come in?"
Flustered, Seeker stepped aside "Sorry, yes, of course."
Sparks grabbed the desk chair, and sat, gesturing at the door.
Seeker closed it, and then perched on her bunk.Sparks looked at her for a few moments "The counselling has helped, I can see that. But I think you need something more. Scan me. Now."
Seeker started at the sudden unexpected order, and tried to pick up the engineer's mind, only to find - nothing.
"Sparks, you're, your mind, it..." She stuttered.
"Good. It works then," and she pointed to a barely visible comb in her hair, "Now. You've been avoiding me. Why?"
"Your past is your own. The Captain..."
"Seeker, I have known the Captain since we were children. We were separated for about fifteen years, but we're together again now. She would not have offered without me knowing."
"Oh" came the reply in a small voice.
"Now. Here is what you should have asked me about. Much like yours, our home planet is a single polity. Unlike yours it is a democracy - we elect our leaders. About four years after the Captain left on her first voyage as a trader there was a military takeover of the government."
Seeker was staring now.
"They cracked down on any opposition, killing anyone who objected to them. Or that they thought were objecting. For two years they held power, but then we struck back. And we struck hard. The response was brutal. I was working as a grav mechanic, when I saw a family being shot at by a squad of troops. One shot hit a four year old little boy. So I took the grav module I'd been fixing, and drove it into that squad at mach three. Then I picked up their guns, and went hunting."
Sparks looked at the ceiling. "Then I went hunting. When I could not find any more soldiers, I went hunting a bottle. We won. We are a democracy again. And the little boy lived. But. I. Was. Broken."
"What happened then?"
"Annabelle found me. Took me aboard, and showed me how to live again. When she purchased this ship, she named it after me."
After a few minutes Seeker asked "Why? Why tell me?"
"I was never a killer, but I had to become one. To save lives. You are not alone. You can still be a good person, still be worth knowing. Maybe even more so."
"She loves you, doesn't she?"
"And I still don't know why," Sparks replied with a lopsided smile.#SF #SFF #Microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, substance abuse, PTSD, consent orders, swearing
Twenty two years ago, planet Qnzick.
Sparks felt her head pounding. That meant she was getting sober. That meant that she would remember. She must not remember.
A hand grabbed her head, she tried to struggle, but her arms were not working right. Maybe she was still drunk. Drunk was good.
"You stink Athena" came a voice.
Sparks groaned in response. She was trying to say that her name wasn't Athena. She'd lost the right to that name. Lost the right when - she blacked out again.Annabelle looked down at her old friend. She'd heard the stories - the unstoppable mechanic who had torn through dozens of squads of the dictator's troops. And then, once the revolution was over, she'd vanished.
It had taken her six months to find Athena. And what she found was a mess.
She rolled the unconscious woman onto a cargo gurney, and took her back to the shuttle, guiding the little grav sled up the cargo ramp.
"Doc?" she called.
An older man looked up. "You found her, then?"
"Yep, but she's pretty messed up. Can you have a look?"
"I can look at the physical" he cautioned.
"I know. I'll have to find someone else to help with the rest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? She is not going to be happy with you."
"We agreed fifteen years ago that if one of us was incapacitated, the other would do whatever was needed."
"You have the paperwork?"
"Right here."The doctor read over the form. It was valid.
"You consent to this on her behalf?"
"Yep."
"Very well. On your head be it."Two days later, Sparks was sober and screaming at Annabelle.
"Let me fucking die! Just let me go! I'm a fucking mass murderer."
"Nope. You are coming with me" was Annabelle's calm reply.
"Where? Where are you taking me?"
"To get you the help you needed. The help you should have got after the fighting stopped."Annabelle pushed the float chair Athena was strapped into through the city. People stepped aside as her screaming continued until her voice was too hoarse to be heard. They turned into the hospital. At reception she said "I have a consent grant in the case of incapacitation. And a confirmation from a doctor." She showed them the paperwork.
Sparks whispered "No, just let me rot, please."
"No way. I am getting you back, and then we are leaving. Together. I never should have left you behind in the first place."
"I deserve to be forgotten."
"Not by me. Get well. I will visit as often as they let me."The next six months were terrible for both of them. Sparks refused to see Annabelle, and yelled at her when she insisted. But, gradually, the yelling stopped. Then there were tears. Then the ghost of a smile. Eventually, Sparks looked forward to seeing her.
A year later, Sparks walked out with Annabelle on her arm, and onto a trader ship. They never returned to Qnzick.
#SF #SFF #ShamanSpace #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, substance abuse, PTSD, consent orders, swearing
Twenty two years ago, planet Qnzick.
Sparks felt her head pounding. That meant she was getting sober. That meant that she would remember. She must not remember.
A hand grabbed her head, she tried to struggle, but her arms were not working right. Maybe she was still drunk. Drunk was good.
"You stink Athena" came a voice.
Sparks groaned in response. She was trying to say that her name wasn't Athena. She'd lost the right to that name. Lost the right when - she blacked out again.Annabelle looked down at her old friend. She'd heard the stories - the unstoppable mechanic who had torn through dozens of squads of the dictator's troops. And then, once the revolution was over, she'd vanished.
It had taken her six months to find Athena. And what she found was a mess.
She rolled the unconscious woman onto a cargo gurney, and took her back to the shuttle, guiding the little grav sled up the cargo ramp.
"Doc?" she called.
An older man looked up. "You found her, then?"
"Yep, but she's pretty messed up. Can you have a look?"
"I can look at the physical" he cautioned.
"I know. I'll have to find someone else to help with the rest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? She is not going to be happy with you."
"We agreed fifteen years ago that if one of us was incapacitated, the other would do whatever was needed."
"You have the paperwork?"
"Right here."The doctor read over the form. It was valid.
"You consent to this on her behalf?"
"Yep."
"Very well. On your head be it."Two days later, Sparks was sober and screaming at Annabelle.
"Let me fucking die! Just let me go! I'm a fucking mass murderer."
"Nope. You are coming with me" was Annabelle's calm reply.
"Where? Where are you taking me?"
"To get you the help you needed. The help you should have got after the fighting stopped."Annabelle pushed the float chair Athena was strapped into through the city. People stepped aside as her screaming continued until her voice was too hoarse to be heard. They turned into the hospital. At reception she said "I have a consent grant in the case of incapacitation. And a confirmation from a doctor." She showed them the paperwork.
Sparks whispered "No, just let me rot, please."
"No way. I am getting you back, and then we are leaving. Together. I never should have left you behind in the first place."
"I deserve to be forgotten."
"Not by me. Get well. I will visit as often as they let me."The next six months were terrible for both of them. Sparks refused to see Annabelle, and yelled at her when she insisted. But, gradually, the yelling stopped. Then there were tears. Then the ghost of a smile. Eventually, Sparks looked forward to seeing her.
A year later, Sparks walked out with Annabelle on her arm, and onto a trader ship. They never returned to Qnzick.
#SF #SFF #ShamanSpace #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, substance abuse, PTSD, consent orders, swearing
Twenty two years ago, planet Qnzick.
Sparks felt her head pounding. That meant she was getting sober. That meant that she would remember. She must not remember.
A hand grabbed her head, she tried to struggle, but her arms were not working right. Maybe she was still drunk. Drunk was good.
"You stink Athena" came a voice.
Sparks groaned in response. She was trying to say that her name wasn't Athena. She'd lost the right to that name. Lost the right when - she blacked out again.Annabelle looked down at her old friend. She'd heard the stories - the unstoppable mechanic who had torn through dozens of squads of the dictator's troops. And then, once the revolution was over, she'd vanished.
It had taken her six months to find Athena. And what she found was a mess.
She rolled the unconscious woman onto a cargo gurney, and took her back to the shuttle, guiding the little grav sled up the cargo ramp.
"Doc?" she called.
An older man looked up. "You found her, then?"
"Yep, but she's pretty messed up. Can you have a look?"
"I can look at the physical" he cautioned.
"I know. I'll have to find someone else to help with the rest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? She is not going to be happy with you."
"We agreed fifteen years ago that if one of us was incapacitated, the other would do whatever was needed."
"You have the paperwork?"
"Right here."The doctor read over the form. It was valid.
"You consent to this on her behalf?"
"Yep."
"Very well. On your head be it."Two days later, Sparks was sober and screaming at Annabelle.
"Let me fucking die! Just let me go! I'm a fucking mass murderer."
"Nope. You are coming with me" was Annabelle's calm reply.
"Where? Where are you taking me?"
"To get you the help you needed. The help you should have got after the fighting stopped."Annabelle pushed the float chair Athena was strapped into through the city. People stepped aside as her screaming continued until her voice was too hoarse to be heard. They turned into the hospital. At reception she said "I have a consent grant in the case of incapacitation. And a confirmation from a doctor." She showed them the paperwork.
Sparks whispered "No, just let me rot, please."
"No way. I am getting you back, and then we are leaving. Together. I never should have left you behind in the first place."
"I deserve to be forgotten."
"Not by me. Get well. I will visit as often as they let me."The next six months were terrible for both of them. Sparks refused to see Annabelle, and yelled at her when she insisted. But, gradually, the yelling stopped. Then there were tears. Then the ghost of a smile. Eventually, Sparks looked forward to seeing her.
A year later, Sparks walked out with Annabelle on her arm, and onto a trader ship. They never returned to Qnzick.
#SF #SFF #ShamanSpace #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
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CW: MH, substance abuse, PTSD, consent orders, swearing
Twenty two years ago, planet Qnzick.
Sparks felt her head pounding. That meant she was getting sober. That meant that she would remember. She must not remember.
A hand grabbed her head, she tried to struggle, but her arms were not working right. Maybe she was still drunk. Drunk was good.
"You stink Athena" came a voice.
Sparks groaned in response. She was trying to say that her name wasn't Athena. She'd lost the right to that name. Lost the right when - she blacked out again.Annabelle looked down at her old friend. She'd heard the stories - the unstoppable mechanic who had torn through dozens of squads of the dictator's troops. And then, once the revolution was over, she'd vanished.
It had taken her six months to find Athena. And what she found was a mess.
She rolled the unconscious woman onto a cargo gurney, and took her back to the shuttle, guiding the little grav sled up the cargo ramp.
"Doc?" she called.
An older man looked up. "You found her, then?"
"Yep, but she's pretty messed up. Can you have a look?"
"I can look at the physical" he cautioned.
"I know. I'll have to find someone else to help with the rest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? She is not going to be happy with you."
"We agreed fifteen years ago that if one of us was incapacitated, the other would do whatever was needed."
"You have the paperwork?"
"Right here."The doctor read over the form. It was valid.
"You consent to this on her behalf?"
"Yep."
"Very well. On your head be it."Two days later, Sparks was sober and screaming at Annabelle.
"Let me fucking die! Just let me go! I'm a fucking mass murderer."
"Nope. You are coming with me" was Annabelle's calm reply.
"Where? Where are you taking me?"
"To get you the help you needed. The help you should have got after the fighting stopped."Annabelle pushed the float chair Athena was strapped into through the city. People stepped aside as her screaming continued until her voice was too hoarse to be heard. They turned into the hospital. At reception she said "I have a consent grant in the case of incapacitation. And a confirmation from a doctor." She showed them the paperwork.
Sparks whispered "No, just let me rot, please."
"No way. I am getting you back, and then we are leaving. Together. I never should have left you behind in the first place."
"I deserve to be forgotten."
"Not by me. Get well. I will visit as often as they let me."The next six months were terrible for both of them. Sparks refused to see Annabelle, and yelled at her when she insisted. But, gradually, the yelling stopped. Then there were tears. Then the ghost of a smile. Eventually, Sparks looked forward to seeing her.
A year later, Sparks walked out with Annabelle on her arm, and onto a trader ship. They never returned to Qnzick.
#SF #SFF #ShamanSpace #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
-
CW: MH, substance abuse, PTSD, consent orders, swearing
Twenty two years ago, planet Qnzick.
Sparks felt her head pounding. That meant she was getting sober. That meant that she would remember. She must not remember.
A hand grabbed her head, she tried to struggle, but her arms were not working right. Maybe she was still drunk. Drunk was good.
"You stink Athena" came a voice.
Sparks groaned in response. She was trying to say that her name wasn't Athena. She'd lost the right to that name. Lost the right when - she blacked out again.Annabelle looked down at her old friend. She'd heard the stories - the unstoppable mechanic who had torn through dozens of squads of the dictator's troops. And then, once the revolution was over, she'd vanished.
It had taken her six months to find Athena. And what she found was a mess.
She rolled the unconscious woman onto a cargo gurney, and took her back to the shuttle, guiding the little grav sled up the cargo ramp.
"Doc?" she called.
An older man looked up. "You found her, then?"
"Yep, but she's pretty messed up. Can you have a look?"
"I can look at the physical" he cautioned.
"I know. I'll have to find someone else to help with the rest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? She is not going to be happy with you."
"We agreed fifteen years ago that if one of us was incapacitated, the other would do whatever was needed."
"You have the paperwork?"
"Right here."The doctor read over the form. It was valid.
"You consent to this on her behalf?"
"Yep."
"Very well. On your head be it."Two days later, Sparks was sober and screaming at Annabelle.
"Let me fucking die! Just let me go! I'm a fucking mass murderer."
"Nope. You are coming with me" was Annabelle's calm reply.
"Where? Where are you taking me?"
"To get you the help you needed. The help you should have got after the fighting stopped."Annabelle pushed the float chair Athena was strapped into through the city. People stepped aside as her screaming continued until her voice was too hoarse to be heard. They turned into the hospital. At reception she said "I have a consent grant in the case of incapacitation. And a confirmation from a doctor." She showed them the paperwork.
Sparks whispered "No, just let me rot, please."
"No way. I am getting you back, and then we are leaving. Together. I never should have left you behind in the first place."
"I deserve to be forgotten."
"Not by me. Get well. I will visit as often as they let me."The next six months were terrible for both of them. Sparks refused to see Annabelle, and yelled at her when she insisted. But, gradually, the yelling stopped. Then there were tears. Then the ghost of a smile. Eventually, Sparks looked forward to seeing her.
A year later, Sparks walked out with Annabelle on her arm, and onto a trader ship. They never returned to Qnzick.
#SF #SFF #ShamanSpace #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
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Catgirl Flashback 2
Twilly sat in the armchair in the library, and watched the sunlight make its way towards her. She would let it reach her this time, and luxuriate in the warmth.
One of the first things Twilly had done after her rebirth was to seek out the spell book that Mum - Lady Catherine - had used to save her life. It now sat on the side table next to her. Along with several letters and a file.
A file that Twilly would never have suspected the existence of in her past life. But now, along with memories of resting on Big Mother's lap and being gently scritched behind the ears, there were Lady Catherine's memories of having a small grey cat on her lap, and scritching her ears. And memories of trips to far off lands. Of dead drops, one-time pads, and secret codes. Of picking locks, searching desks, planting bugs, and the Official Secrets Act.
The lawyers had been true to Lady Catherine's wishes, and had set things in motion for Twilly to inherit everything. But her Mum's employers. They would want to know what had happened to her. Lady Catherine had been a valuable agent. And Twilly was not.
Her Mum's final words before she blended into Twilly's memories were to seek out others like her, to save them if they were in harm's way.
If Twilly was going to survive, she was going to need their help, too. Sadly this meant no sunbeam today.
Twilly got up and opened the hidden door behind the bookshelf. She knew where to find the first of her sisters.
She was going to have to break into MI5's research labs. Fortunately Mum's memories would show her how.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault. Just saying.
-
Catgirl Flashback 2
Twilly sat in the armchair in the library, and watched the sunlight make its way towards her. She would let it reach her this time, and luxuriate in the warmth.
One of the first things Twilly had done after her rebirth was to seek out the spell book that Mum - Lady Catherine - had used to save her life. It now sat on the side table next to her. Along with several letters and a file.
A file that Twilly would never have suspected the existence of in her past life. But now, along with memories of resting on Big Mother's lap and being gently scritched behind the ears, there were Lady Catherine's memories of having a small grey cat on her lap, and scritching her ears. And memories of trips to far off lands. Of dead drops, one-time pads, and secret codes. Of picking locks, searching desks, planting bugs, and the Official Secrets Act.
The lawyers had been true to Lady Catherine's wishes, and had set things in motion for Twilly to inherit everything. But her Mum's employers. They would want to know what had happened to her. Lady Catherine had been a valuable agent. And Twilly was not.
Her Mum's final words before she blended into Twilly's memories were to seek out others like her, to save them if they were in harm's way.
If Twilly was going to survive, she was going to need their help, too. Sadly this meant no sunbeam today.
Twilly got up and opened the hidden door behind the bookshelf. She knew where to find the first of her sisters.
She was going to have to break into MI5's research labs. Fortunately Mum's memories would show her how.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault. Just saying.
-
Catgirl Flashback 2
Twilly sat in the armchair in the library, and watched the sunlight make its way towards her. She would let it reach her this time, and luxuriate in the warmth.
One of the first things Twilly had done after her rebirth was to seek out the spell book that Mum - Lady Catherine - had used to save her life. It now sat on the side table next to her. Along with several letters and a file.
A file that Twilly would never have suspected the existence of in her past life. But now, along with memories of resting on Big Mother's lap and being gently scritched behind the ears, there were Lady Catherine's memories of having a small grey cat on her lap, and scritching her ears. And memories of trips to far off lands. Of dead drops, one-time pads, and secret codes. Of picking locks, searching desks, planting bugs, and the Official Secrets Act.
The lawyers had been true to Lady Catherine's wishes, and had set things in motion for Twilly to inherit everything. But her Mum's employers. They would want to know what had happened to her. Lady Catherine had been a valuable agent. And Twilly was not.
Her Mum's final words before she blended into Twilly's memories were to seek out others like her, to save them if they were in harm's way.
If Twilly was going to survive, she was going to need their help, too. Sadly this meant no sunbeam today.
Twilly got up and opened the hidden door behind the bookshelf. She knew where to find the first of her sisters.
She was going to have to break into MI5's research labs. Fortunately Mum's memories would show her how.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault. Just saying.
-
Catgirl Flashback 2
Twilly sat in the armchair in the library, and watched the sunlight make its way towards her. She would let it reach her this time, and luxuriate in the warmth.
One of the first things Twilly had done after her rebirth was to seek out the spell book that Mum - Lady Catherine - had used to save her life. It now sat on the side table next to her. Along with several letters and a file.
A file that Twilly would never have suspected the existence of in her past life. But now, along with memories of resting on Big Mother's lap and being gently scritched behind the ears, there were Lady Catherine's memories of having a small grey cat on her lap, and scritching her ears. And memories of trips to far off lands. Of dead drops, one-time pads, and secret codes. Of picking locks, searching desks, planting bugs, and the Official Secrets Act.
The lawyers had been true to Lady Catherine's wishes, and had set things in motion for Twilly to inherit everything. But her Mum's employers. They would want to know what had happened to her. Lady Catherine had been a valuable agent. And Twilly was not.
Her Mum's final words before she blended into Twilly's memories were to seek out others like her, to save them if they were in harm's way.
If Twilly was going to survive, she was going to need their help, too. Sadly this meant no sunbeam today.
Twilly got up and opened the hidden door behind the bookshelf. She knew where to find the first of her sisters.
She was going to have to break into MI5's research labs. Fortunately Mum's memories would show her how.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault. Just saying.
-
Catgirl Flashback 2
Twilly sat in the armchair in the library, and watched the sunlight make its way towards her. She would let it reach her this time, and luxuriate in the warmth.
One of the first things Twilly had done after her rebirth was to seek out the spell book that Mum - Lady Catherine - had used to save her life. It now sat on the side table next to her. Along with several letters and a file.
A file that Twilly would never have suspected the existence of in her past life. But now, along with memories of resting on Big Mother's lap and being gently scritched behind the ears, there were Lady Catherine's memories of having a small grey cat on her lap, and scritching her ears. And memories of trips to far off lands. Of dead drops, one-time pads, and secret codes. Of picking locks, searching desks, planting bugs, and the Official Secrets Act.
The lawyers had been true to Lady Catherine's wishes, and had set things in motion for Twilly to inherit everything. But her Mum's employers. They would want to know what had happened to her. Lady Catherine had been a valuable agent. And Twilly was not.
Her Mum's final words before she blended into Twilly's memories were to seek out others like her, to save them if they were in harm's way.
If Twilly was going to survive, she was going to need their help, too. Sadly this meant no sunbeam today.
Twilly got up and opened the hidden door behind the bookshelf. She knew where to find the first of her sisters.
She was going to have to break into MI5's research labs. Fortunately Mum's memories would show her how.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault. Just saying.
-
CW: Fictional injury, death, hit and run, pet.
Catgirl Flashback 1
Twilly had always been a clever kitty, and she'd seen how Big Mother had closed the cat carrier many times. So this time, as soon as they were out of the moving box she flipped the catch with a claw, pushed the door open, and leapt to the grass of the New Place.
It was a smaller grass than Home, but there were birds!
She stalked towards one, but it flew off. She gave chase. She heard Big Mother calling her, but there was That Bird!
She ran off the grass, chasing the bird, and then there was a thump and the worst pain she could ever have imagined.
She was on the grass again. Big Mother was over her, and she sounded so sad, Twilly tried to pat her, but her paw wouldn't move.
It was hard to breathe, and she couldn't keep her eyes open. From far away she heard Big Mother calling her. She tried to come, because she was a good kitty...
Then there was a bright light. And she felt Big Mother - Lady Catherine Miller - all around her. Big Catherine, Mum, was sinking into her, and she could feel her paws again, but they were changing. She was bigger. She was CatherineTwillychissLadyMi - everything went black.
Mum was holding her hands, looking her in the eyes. "Twillychiss, my sweet little girl. I'm sorry I won't be there for you."
"Mum? Big ... No ..." She tried to hold Big Mother like she had held her so many times, but she could not move.
"Twilly, listen to me. You must save your sisters. There are others like you out there, I know this now. Promise me."
"I will, Mum... But where will you be?"
"I will be a part of you, Twilly. The truck - you were too hurt, you were dying. I had to do something."
"But Mum" she was crying now. How was she crying?
"My lawyers have instructions. They will help. You will remember what I know."
"What did you do?"
"What I had to, to save you, my sweet kitten. Now you have a long, long life ahead of you. Save your sisters. Find joy in them."Her Mum was starting to glow, and then she felt her filling her up as Mum faded.
Twillychiss the Third sat up on the grass in front of the City House. There was no sign of Lady Miller. She looked at her hands, felt her tail behind her. She was wearing Mum's clothes.
She was Lady Miller now.
And she had a job to do.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Even if she did not come up with the title, I'm still blaming @ami_angelwings .
-
CW: Fictional injury, death, hit and run, pet.
Catgirl Flashback 1
Twilly had always been a clever kitty, and she'd seen how Big Mother had closed the cat carrier many times. So this time, as soon as they were out of the moving box she flipped the catch with a claw, pushed the door open, and leapt to the grass of the New Place.
It was a smaller grass than Home, but there were birds!
She stalked towards one, but it flew off. She gave chase. She heard Big Mother calling her, but there was That Bird!
She ran off the grass, chasing the bird, and then there was a thump and the worst pain she could ever have imagined.
She was on the grass again. Big Mother was over her, and she sounded so sad, Twilly tried to pat her, but her paw wouldn't move.
It was hard to breathe, and she couldn't keep her eyes open. From far away she heard Big Mother calling her. She tried to come, because she was a good kitty...
Then there was a bright light. And she felt Big Mother - Lady Catherine Miller - all around her. Big Catherine, Mum, was sinking into her, and she could feel her paws again, but they were changing. She was bigger. She was CatherineTwillychissLadyMi - everything went black.
Mum was holding her hands, looking her in the eyes. "Twillychiss, my sweet little girl. I'm sorry I won't be there for you."
"Mum? Big ... No ..." She tried to hold Big Mother like she had held her so many times, but she could not move.
"Twilly, listen to me. You must save your sisters. There are others like you out there, I know this now. Promise me."
"I will, Mum... But where will you be?"
"I will be a part of you, Twilly. The truck - you were too hurt, you were dying. I had to do something."
"But Mum" she was crying now. How was she crying?
"My lawyers have instructions. They will help. You will remember what I know."
"What did you do?"
"What I had to, to save you, my sweet kitten. Now you have a long, long life ahead of you. Save your sisters. Find joy in them."Her Mum was starting to glow, and then she felt her filling her up as Mum faded.
Twillychiss the Third sat up on the grass in front of the City House. There was no sign of Lady Miller. She looked at her hands, felt her tail behind her. She was wearing Mum's clothes.
She was Lady Miller now.
And she had a job to do.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Even if she did not come up with the title, I'm still blaming @ami_angelwings .
-
CW: Fictional injury, death, hit and run, pet.
Catgirl Flashback 1
Twilly had always been a clever kitty, and she'd seen how Big Mother had closed the cat carrier many times. So this time, as soon as they were out of the moving box she flipped the catch with a claw, pushed the door open, and leapt to the grass of the New Place.
It was a smaller grass than Home, but there were birds!
She stalked towards one, but it flew off. She gave chase. She heard Big Mother calling her, but there was That Bird!
She ran off the grass, chasing the bird, and then there was a thump and the worst pain she could ever have imagined.
She was on the grass again. Big Mother was over her, and she sounded so sad, Twilly tried to pat her, but her paw wouldn't move.
It was hard to breathe, and she couldn't keep her eyes open. From far away she heard Big Mother calling her. She tried to come, because she was a good kitty...
Then there was a bright light. And she felt Big Mother - Lady Catherine Miller - all around her. Big Catherine, Mum, was sinking into her, and she could feel her paws again, but they were changing. She was bigger. She was CatherineTwillychissLadyMi - everything went black.
Mum was holding her hands, looking her in the eyes. "Twillychiss, my sweet little girl. I'm sorry I won't be there for you."
"Mum? Big ... No ..." She tried to hold Big Mother like she had held her so many times, but she could not move.
"Twilly, listen to me. You must save your sisters. There are others like you out there, I know this now. Promise me."
"I will, Mum... But where will you be?"
"I will be a part of you, Twilly. The truck - you were too hurt, you were dying. I had to do something."
"But Mum" she was crying now. How was she crying?
"My lawyers have instructions. They will help. You will remember what I know."
"What did you do?"
"What I had to, to save you, my sweet kitten. Now you have a long, long life ahead of you. Save your sisters. Find joy in them."Her Mum was starting to glow, and then she felt her filling her up as Mum faded.
Twillychiss the Third sat up on the grass in front of the City House. There was no sign of Lady Miller. She looked at her hands, felt her tail behind her. She was wearing Mum's clothes.
She was Lady Miller now.
And she had a job to do.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Even if she did not come up with the title, I'm still blaming @ami_angelwings .
-
CW: Fictional injury, death, hit and run, pet.
Catgirl Flashback 1
Twilly had always been a clever kitty, and she'd seen how Big Mother had closed the cat carrier many times. So this time, as soon as they were out of the moving box she flipped the catch with a claw, pushed the door open, and leapt to the grass of the New Place.
It was a smaller grass than Home, but there were birds!
She stalked towards one, but it flew off. She gave chase. She heard Big Mother calling her, but there was That Bird!
She ran off the grass, chasing the bird, and then there was a thump and the worst pain she could ever have imagined.
She was on the grass again. Big Mother was over her, and she sounded so sad, Twilly tried to pat her, but her paw wouldn't move.
It was hard to breathe, and she couldn't keep her eyes open. From far away she heard Big Mother calling her. She tried to come, because she was a good kitty...
Then there was a bright light. And she felt Big Mother - Lady Catherine Miller - all around her. Big Catherine, Mum, was sinking into her, and she could feel her paws again, but they were changing. She was bigger. She was CatherineTwillychissLadyMi - everything went black.
Mum was holding her hands, looking her in the eyes. "Twillychiss, my sweet little girl. I'm sorry I won't be there for you."
"Mum? Big ... No ..." She tried to hold Big Mother like she had held her so many times, but she could not move.
"Twilly, listen to me. You must save your sisters. There are others like you out there, I know this now. Promise me."
"I will, Mum... But where will you be?"
"I will be a part of you, Twilly. The truck - you were too hurt, you were dying. I had to do something."
"But Mum" she was crying now. How was she crying?
"My lawyers have instructions. They will help. You will remember what I know."
"What did you do?"
"What I had to, to save you, my sweet kitten. Now you have a long, long life ahead of you. Save your sisters. Find joy in them."Her Mum was starting to glow, and then she felt her filling her up as Mum faded.
Twillychiss the Third sat up on the grass in front of the City House. There was no sign of Lady Miller. She looked at her hands, felt her tail behind her. She was wearing Mum's clothes.
She was Lady Miller now.
And she had a job to do.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Even if she did not come up with the title, I'm still blaming @ami_angelwings .
-
CW: Fictional injury, death, hit and run, pet.
Catgirl Flashback 1
Twilly had always been a clever kitty, and she'd seen how Big Mother had closed the cat carrier many times. So this time, as soon as they were out of the moving box she flipped the catch with a claw, pushed the door open, and leapt to the grass of the New Place.
It was a smaller grass than Home, but there were birds!
She stalked towards one, but it flew off. She gave chase. She heard Big Mother calling her, but there was That Bird!
She ran off the grass, chasing the bird, and then there was a thump and the worst pain she could ever have imagined.
She was on the grass again. Big Mother was over her, and she sounded so sad, Twilly tried to pat her, but her paw wouldn't move.
It was hard to breathe, and she couldn't keep her eyes open. From far away she heard Big Mother calling her. She tried to come, because she was a good kitty...
Then there was a bright light. And she felt Big Mother - Lady Catherine Miller - all around her. Big Catherine, Mum, was sinking into her, and she could feel her paws again, but they were changing. She was bigger. She was CatherineTwillychissLadyMi - everything went black.
Mum was holding her hands, looking her in the eyes. "Twillychiss, my sweet little girl. I'm sorry I won't be there for you."
"Mum? Big ... No ..." She tried to hold Big Mother like she had held her so many times, but she could not move.
"Twilly, listen to me. You must save your sisters. There are others like you out there, I know this now. Promise me."
"I will, Mum... But where will you be?"
"I will be a part of you, Twilly. The truck - you were too hurt, you were dying. I had to do something."
"But Mum" she was crying now. How was she crying?
"My lawyers have instructions. They will help. You will remember what I know."
"What did you do?"
"What I had to, to save you, my sweet kitten. Now you have a long, long life ahead of you. Save your sisters. Find joy in them."Her Mum was starting to glow, and then she felt her filling her up as Mum faded.
Twillychiss the Third sat up on the grass in front of the City House. There was no sign of Lady Miller. She looked at her hands, felt her tail behind her. She was wearing Mum's clothes.
She was Lady Miller now.
And she had a job to do.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Even if she did not come up with the title, I'm still blaming @ami_angelwings .
-
The Catgirl Ultimatum
Twillychiss the Third was regarded as the most senior of the catgirls of the Trust. It was not that she was the oldest, but it was because her former owner and creator had charged her with the job of rescuing catgirls from whatever they needed rescuing from.
So it was that Twilly was in her office, considering the latest intelligence reports. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a sunbeam and go to sleep in it, but she had a responsibility. Lady Miller's self sacrifice that created her and saved her life demanded it.
The latest reports suggested that there was a global uptick in the sorts of facilities - both scientific and mystical - that would be used to create catgirls.
Twilly glanced out the window of the mansion as a shadow passed - the sphinx Ruth glided past. And catgirlish people as well, she amended.
Whilst there were a handful of such places that created people like her or Ruth for good reasons, most were awful.
Ai, for example, had been created as an assassin, and forced to do terrible things before Twilly had been able to break her free. She knew that even now Ai had nightmares about her past. And Ruth had been created as revenge by her former boss simply for being better than him.
Twilly looked at the reports again, and made a decision. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Winston and Chambers, can I help you?" came cheerfully from the other end.
"Hello Cinta, it is Twilly."
"Oh, hello your Ladyship!"
"None of that now. Is Gordon in?"
"I'll put you through now."There was a brief burst of muzak.
"Gordon Chambers" came the elderly distinguished voice.
"Gordy! It's Twilly."
"Lady Miller. How might the firm assist today?"
"I need you to arrange a press conference."
There was a long pause.
"So, going public are you?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been going over the latest reports, and it is bad. It is time to be proactive."
"Should I also be preparing for repercussions?"
"I think that would be best. Do we have the numbers?"
"I believe so. Especially if you make it clear that the current government is not involved."
Twilly bared her teeth "Excellent. Prep them. Make sure they know what to expect, and offer them the draft we prepared last year."
"And ask them to put it to an urgent vote?"
"Thank-you"One week later, BBC 1 interrupted the evening program with an unexpected press conference.
Five catgirls and one sphinx stood behind a podium, while a sixth stood at it.
"I am Twillychiss the Third, Lady Miller, and I have a message for the following institutions around the globe..." she began.#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault.
-
The Catgirl Ultimatum
Twillychiss the Third was regarded as the most senior of the catgirls of the Trust. It was not that she was the oldest, but it was because her former owner and creator had charged her with the job of rescuing catgirls from whatever they needed rescuing from.
So it was that Twilly was in her office, considering the latest intelligence reports. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a sunbeam and go to sleep in it, but she had a responsibility. Lady Miller's self sacrifice that created her and saved her life demanded it.
The latest reports suggested that there was a global uptick in the sorts of facilities - both scientific and mystical - that would be used to create catgirls.
Twilly glanced out the window of the mansion as a shadow passed - the sphinx Ruth glided past. And catgirlish people as well, she amended.
Whilst there were a handful of such places that created people like her or Ruth for good reasons, most were awful.
Ai, for example, had been created as an assassin, and forced to do terrible things before Twilly had been able to break her free. She knew that even now Ai had nightmares about her past. And Ruth had been created as revenge by her former boss simply for being better than him.
Twilly looked at the reports again, and made a decision. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Winston and Chambers, can I help you?" came cheerfully from the other end.
"Hello Cinta, it is Twilly."
"Oh, hello your Ladyship!"
"None of that now. Is Gordon in?"
"I'll put you through now."There was a brief burst of muzak.
"Gordon Chambers" came the elderly distinguished voice.
"Gordy! It's Twilly."
"Lady Miller. How might the firm assist today?"
"I need you to arrange a press conference."
There was a long pause.
"So, going public are you?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been going over the latest reports, and it is bad. It is time to be proactive."
"Should I also be preparing for repercussions?"
"I think that would be best. Do we have the numbers?"
"I believe so. Especially if you make it clear that the current government is not involved."
Twilly bared her teeth "Excellent. Prep them. Make sure they know what to expect, and offer them the draft we prepared last year."
"And ask them to put it to an urgent vote?"
"Thank-you"One week later, BBC 1 interrupted the evening program with an unexpected press conference.
Five catgirls and one sphinx stood behind a podium, while a sixth stood at it.
"I am Twillychiss the Third, Lady Miller, and I have a message for the following institutions around the globe..." she began.#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault.
-
The Catgirl Ultimatum
Twillychiss the Third was regarded as the most senior of the catgirls of the Trust. It was not that she was the oldest, but it was because her former owner and creator had charged her with the job of rescuing catgirls from whatever they needed rescuing from.
So it was that Twilly was in her office, considering the latest intelligence reports. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a sunbeam and go to sleep in it, but she had a responsibility. Lady Miller's self sacrifice that created her and saved her life demanded it.
The latest reports suggested that there was a global uptick in the sorts of facilities - both scientific and mystical - that would be used to create catgirls.
Twilly glanced out the window of the mansion as a shadow passed - the sphinx Ruth glided past. And catgirlish people as well, she amended.
Whilst there were a handful of such places that created people like her or Ruth for good reasons, most were awful.
Ai, for example, had been created as an assassin, and forced to do terrible things before Twilly had been able to break her free. She knew that even now Ai had nightmares about her past. And Ruth had been created as revenge by her former boss simply for being better than him.
Twilly looked at the reports again, and made a decision. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Winston and Chambers, can I help you?" came cheerfully from the other end.
"Hello Cinta, it is Twilly."
"Oh, hello your Ladyship!"
"None of that now. Is Gordon in?"
"I'll put you through now."There was a brief burst of muzak.
"Gordon Chambers" came the elderly distinguished voice.
"Gordy! It's Twilly."
"Lady Miller. How might the firm assist today?"
"I need you to arrange a press conference."
There was a long pause.
"So, going public are you?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been going over the latest reports, and it is bad. It is time to be proactive."
"Should I also be preparing for repercussions?"
"I think that would be best. Do we have the numbers?"
"I believe so. Especially if you make it clear that the current government is not involved."
Twilly bared her teeth "Excellent. Prep them. Make sure they know what to expect, and offer them the draft we prepared last year."
"And ask them to put it to an urgent vote?"
"Thank-you"One week later, BBC 1 interrupted the evening program with an unexpected press conference.
Five catgirls and one sphinx stood behind a podium, while a sixth stood at it.
"I am Twillychiss the Third, Lady Miller, and I have a message for the following institutions around the globe..." she began.#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault.
-
The Catgirl Ultimatum
Twillychiss the Third was regarded as the most senior of the catgirls of the Trust. It was not that she was the oldest, but it was because her former owner and creator had charged her with the job of rescuing catgirls from whatever they needed rescuing from.
So it was that Twilly was in her office, considering the latest intelligence reports. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a sunbeam and go to sleep in it, but she had a responsibility. Lady Miller's self sacrifice that created her and saved her life demanded it.
The latest reports suggested that there was a global uptick in the sorts of facilities - both scientific and mystical - that would be used to create catgirls.
Twilly glanced out the window of the mansion as a shadow passed - the sphinx Ruth glided past. And catgirlish people as well, she amended.
Whilst there were a handful of such places that created people like her or Ruth for good reasons, most were awful.
Ai, for example, had been created as an assassin, and forced to do terrible things before Twilly had been able to break her free. She knew that even now Ai had nightmares about her past. And Ruth had been created as revenge by her former boss simply for being better than him.
Twilly looked at the reports again, and made a decision. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Winston and Chambers, can I help you?" came cheerfully from the other end.
"Hello Cinta, it is Twilly."
"Oh, hello your Ladyship!"
"None of that now. Is Gordon in?"
"I'll put you through now."There was a brief burst of muzak.
"Gordon Chambers" came the elderly distinguished voice.
"Gordy! It's Twilly."
"Lady Miller. How might the firm assist today?"
"I need you to arrange a press conference."
There was a long pause.
"So, going public are you?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been going over the latest reports, and it is bad. It is time to be proactive."
"Should I also be preparing for repercussions?"
"I think that would be best. Do we have the numbers?"
"I believe so. Especially if you make it clear that the current government is not involved."
Twilly bared her teeth "Excellent. Prep them. Make sure they know what to expect, and offer them the draft we prepared last year."
"And ask them to put it to an urgent vote?"
"Thank-you"One week later, BBC 1 interrupted the evening program with an unexpected press conference.
Five catgirls and one sphinx stood behind a podium, while a sixth stood at it.
"I am Twillychiss the Third, Lady Miller, and I have a message for the following institutions around the globe..." she began.#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault.
-
The Catgirl Ultimatum
Twillychiss the Third was regarded as the most senior of the catgirls of the Trust. It was not that she was the oldest, but it was because her former owner and creator had charged her with the job of rescuing catgirls from whatever they needed rescuing from.
So it was that Twilly was in her office, considering the latest intelligence reports. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a sunbeam and go to sleep in it, but she had a responsibility. Lady Miller's self sacrifice that created her and saved her life demanded it.
The latest reports suggested that there was a global uptick in the sorts of facilities - both scientific and mystical - that would be used to create catgirls.
Twilly glanced out the window of the mansion as a shadow passed - the sphinx Ruth glided past. And catgirlish people as well, she amended.
Whilst there were a handful of such places that created people like her or Ruth for good reasons, most were awful.
Ai, for example, had been created as an assassin, and forced to do terrible things before Twilly had been able to break her free. She knew that even now Ai had nightmares about her past. And Ruth had been created as revenge by her former boss simply for being better than him.
Twilly looked at the reports again, and made a decision. She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Winston and Chambers, can I help you?" came cheerfully from the other end.
"Hello Cinta, it is Twilly."
"Oh, hello your Ladyship!"
"None of that now. Is Gordon in?"
"I'll put you through now."There was a brief burst of muzak.
"Gordon Chambers" came the elderly distinguished voice.
"Gordy! It's Twilly."
"Lady Miller. How might the firm assist today?"
"I need you to arrange a press conference."
There was a long pause.
"So, going public are you?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been going over the latest reports, and it is bad. It is time to be proactive."
"Should I also be preparing for repercussions?"
"I think that would be best. Do we have the numbers?"
"I believe so. Especially if you make it clear that the current government is not involved."
Twilly bared her teeth "Excellent. Prep them. Make sure they know what to expect, and offer them the draft we prepared last year."
"And ask them to put it to an urgent vote?"
"Thank-you"One week later, BBC 1 interrupted the evening program with an unexpected press conference.
Five catgirls and one sphinx stood behind a podium, while a sixth stood at it.
"I am Twillychiss the Third, Lady Miller, and I have a message for the following institutions around the globe..." she began.#SF #SFF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #catgirls
Still @ami_angelwings fault.
-
Four months and eight days after leaving "Mother of All". At Hiiliteräs High Port.
The Captain had called everyone into the mess for a meeting. It was a little cramped, but they all fit.
"Alright everyone, I'm back from the inquest. They are accepting our version of events, and the surviving hijacker is being charged with attempted piracy. In this system that is 25 years, no parole."
There were nods around the room at that.
"Further," she continued, "the system has sent word back to Silver notifying them, and sending an invoice for repatriation of the other hijacker. Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain?" Seeker's voice was unusually subdued.
"The inquest has found you acted appropriately. I am adding a note to your file that you have been combat tested, and reacted with appropriate force. On a personal note, you almost certainly saved lives. Thank-you."
"Captain - "
"I am recommending you for a one week post-combat counselling course here on-station. The ship will cover it."
"Yes Captain," she spoke softly, and started to retreat to the back of the mess, head held low.
"One question, Seeker."
"Yes Captain?"
"I know you've been scanning everyone who comes aboard. How did they get past you?"
"There are some people, Captain, who can just block a casual scan. But in this case they had a device. Our scientists have discussed the possibility of one, but this is the first I've actually seen that can block a scan completely."
"How did you find it?"
"Dyani did. When she took everything from the", her voice hitched, "the survivor, it included a hair ornament. As soon as it was taken, I could hear him. I thought she told you."
The Captain turned, "Dyani?"
"I thought Seeker had told you" the gunner replied.The Captain shook her head, "Always double check who has passed on what, OK?"
"Yes Captain" the three junior members of the crew said together."Now, do we have two of them?"
"Yes Captain" Dyani replied.
"Good. Hand one over to Sparks. Sparks?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Figure out how to make more. I am certain that the folks back on Mother of All will want to know how to make one."
"Aye!"
"Back to your duties. Alaine, Seeker stay put."The crew dispersed to their duties. Alaine and Seeker waited.
The Captain looked at them both. "Seeker, you are relieved of duties until you have completed the counselling." She started to object, but the Captain rolled over her, "Alaine? Your job is to make sure she goes. You will escort her to the session, and escort her back."
"Yes, Captain."
The Captain turned back to Seeker "It is not that I don't trust you, but things like this get under your skin, and make you think of doing all sorts of stupid things. After your first couple of sessions, have a talk to Sparks. She knows."
Alaine straightened up "I'll make sure, Captain."
The Captain looked them over "I'm certain you will. You've both got a map on your PDUs. The first appointment is in one hour."#SF #SFF #SciFi #Tootfic #Microfiction #Microfic #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace
-
Four months and eight days after leaving "Mother of All". At Hiiliteräs High Port.
The Captain had called everyone into the mess for a meeting. It was a little cramped, but they all fit.
"Alright everyone, I'm back from the inquest. They are accepting our version of events, and the surviving hijacker is being charged with attempted piracy. In this system that is 25 years, no parole."
There were nods around the room at that.
"Further," she continued, "the system has sent word back to Silver notifying them, and sending an invoice for repatriation of the other hijacker. Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain?" Seeker's voice was unusually subdued.
"The inquest has found you acted appropriately. I am adding a note to your file that you have been combat tested, and reacted with appropriate force. On a personal note, you almost certainly saved lives. Thank-you."
"Captain - "
"I am recommending you for a one week post-combat counselling course here on-station. The ship will cover it."
"Yes Captain," she spoke softly, and started to retreat to the back of the mess, head held low.
"One question, Seeker."
"Yes Captain?"
"I know you've been scanning everyone who comes aboard. How did they get past you?"
"There are some people, Captain, who can just block a casual scan. But in this case they had a device. Our scientists have discussed the possibility of one, but this is the first I've actually seen that can block a scan completely."
"How did you find it?"
"Dyani did. When she took everything from the", her voice hitched, "the survivor, it included a hair ornament. As soon as it was taken, I could hear him. I thought she told you."
The Captain turned, "Dyani?"
"I thought Seeker had told you" the gunner replied.The Captain shook her head, "Always double check who has passed on what, OK?"
"Yes Captain" the three junior members of the crew said together."Now, do we have two of them?"
"Yes Captain" Dyani replied.
"Good. Hand one over to Sparks. Sparks?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Figure out how to make more. I am certain that the folks back on Mother of All will want to know how to make one."
"Aye!"
"Back to your duties. Alaine, Seeker stay put."The crew dispersed to their duties. Alaine and Seeker waited.
The Captain looked at them both. "Seeker, you are relieved of duties until you have completed the counselling." She started to object, but the Captain rolled over her, "Alaine? Your job is to make sure she goes. You will escort her to the session, and escort her back."
"Yes, Captain."
The Captain turned back to Seeker "It is not that I don't trust you, but things like this get under your skin, and make you think of doing all sorts of stupid things. After your first couple of sessions, have a talk to Sparks. She knows."
Alaine straightened up "I'll make sure, Captain."
The Captain looked them over "I'm certain you will. You've both got a map on your PDUs. The first appointment is in one hour."#SF #SFF #SciFi #Tootfic #Microfiction #Microfic #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace
-
Four months and eight days after leaving "Mother of All". At Hiiliteräs High Port.
The Captain had called everyone into the mess for a meeting. It was a little cramped, but they all fit.
"Alright everyone, I'm back from the inquest. They are accepting our version of events, and the surviving hijacker is being charged with attempted piracy. In this system that is 25 years, no parole."
There were nods around the room at that.
"Further," she continued, "the system has sent word back to Silver notifying them, and sending an invoice for repatriation of the other hijacker. Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain?" Seeker's voice was unusually subdued.
"The inquest has found you acted appropriately. I am adding a note to your file that you have been combat tested, and reacted with appropriate force. On a personal note, you almost certainly saved lives. Thank-you."
"Captain - "
"I am recommending you for a one week post-combat counselling course here on-station. The ship will cover it."
"Yes Captain," she spoke softly, and started to retreat to the back of the mess, head held low.
"One question, Seeker."
"Yes Captain?"
"I know you've been scanning everyone who comes aboard. How did they get past you?"
"There are some people, Captain, who can just block a casual scan. But in this case they had a device. Our scientists have discussed the possibility of one, but this is the first I've actually seen that can block a scan completely."
"How did you find it?"
"Dyani did. When she took everything from the", her voice hitched, "the survivor, it included a hair ornament. As soon as it was taken, I could hear him. I thought she told you."
The Captain turned, "Dyani?"
"I thought Seeker had told you" the gunner replied.The Captain shook her head, "Always double check who has passed on what, OK?"
"Yes Captain" the three junior members of the crew said together."Now, do we have two of them?"
"Yes Captain" Dyani replied.
"Good. Hand one over to Sparks. Sparks?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Figure out how to make more. I am certain that the folks back on Mother of All will want to know how to make one."
"Aye!"
"Back to your duties. Alaine, Seeker stay put."The crew dispersed to their duties. Alaine and Seeker waited.
The Captain looked at them both. "Seeker, you are relieved of duties until you have completed the counselling." She started to object, but the Captain rolled over her, "Alaine? Your job is to make sure she goes. You will escort her to the session, and escort her back."
"Yes, Captain."
The Captain turned back to Seeker "It is not that I don't trust you, but things like this get under your skin, and make you think of doing all sorts of stupid things. After your first couple of sessions, have a talk to Sparks. She knows."
Alaine straightened up "I'll make sure, Captain."
The Captain looked them over "I'm certain you will. You've both got a map on your PDUs. The first appointment is in one hour."#SF #SFF #SciFi #Tootfic #Microfiction #Microfic #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace
-
Four months and eight days after leaving "Mother of All". At Hiiliteräs High Port.
The Captain had called everyone into the mess for a meeting. It was a little cramped, but they all fit.
"Alright everyone, I'm back from the inquest. They are accepting our version of events, and the surviving hijacker is being charged with attempted piracy. In this system that is 25 years, no parole."
There were nods around the room at that.
"Further," she continued, "the system has sent word back to Silver notifying them, and sending an invoice for repatriation of the other hijacker. Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain?" Seeker's voice was unusually subdued.
"The inquest has found you acted appropriately. I am adding a note to your file that you have been combat tested, and reacted with appropriate force. On a personal note, you almost certainly saved lives. Thank-you."
"Captain - "
"I am recommending you for a one week post-combat counselling course here on-station. The ship will cover it."
"Yes Captain," she spoke softly, and started to retreat to the back of the mess, head held low.
"One question, Seeker."
"Yes Captain?"
"I know you've been scanning everyone who comes aboard. How did they get past you?"
"There are some people, Captain, who can just block a casual scan. But in this case they had a device. Our scientists have discussed the possibility of one, but this is the first I've actually seen that can block a scan completely."
"How did you find it?"
"Dyani did. When she took everything from the", her voice hitched, "the survivor, it included a hair ornament. As soon as it was taken, I could hear him. I thought she told you."
The Captain turned, "Dyani?"
"I thought Seeker had told you" the gunner replied.The Captain shook her head, "Always double check who has passed on what, OK?"
"Yes Captain" the three junior members of the crew said together."Now, do we have two of them?"
"Yes Captain" Dyani replied.
"Good. Hand one over to Sparks. Sparks?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Figure out how to make more. I am certain that the folks back on Mother of All will want to know how to make one."
"Aye!"
"Back to your duties. Alaine, Seeker stay put."The crew dispersed to their duties. Alaine and Seeker waited.
The Captain looked at them both. "Seeker, you are relieved of duties until you have completed the counselling." She started to object, but the Captain rolled over her, "Alaine? Your job is to make sure she goes. You will escort her to the session, and escort her back."
"Yes, Captain."
The Captain turned back to Seeker "It is not that I don't trust you, but things like this get under your skin, and make you think of doing all sorts of stupid things. After your first couple of sessions, have a talk to Sparks. She knows."
Alaine straightened up "I'll make sure, Captain."
The Captain looked them over "I'm certain you will. You've both got a map on your PDUs. The first appointment is in one hour."#SF #SFF #SciFi #Tootfic #Microfiction #Microfic #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace
-
Four months and eight days after leaving "Mother of All". At Hiiliteräs High Port.
The Captain had called everyone into the mess for a meeting. It was a little cramped, but they all fit.
"Alright everyone, I'm back from the inquest. They are accepting our version of events, and the surviving hijacker is being charged with attempted piracy. In this system that is 25 years, no parole."
There were nods around the room at that.
"Further," she continued, "the system has sent word back to Silver notifying them, and sending an invoice for repatriation of the other hijacker. Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain?" Seeker's voice was unusually subdued.
"The inquest has found you acted appropriately. I am adding a note to your file that you have been combat tested, and reacted with appropriate force. On a personal note, you almost certainly saved lives. Thank-you."
"Captain - "
"I am recommending you for a one week post-combat counselling course here on-station. The ship will cover it."
"Yes Captain," she spoke softly, and started to retreat to the back of the mess, head held low.
"One question, Seeker."
"Yes Captain?"
"I know you've been scanning everyone who comes aboard. How did they get past you?"
"There are some people, Captain, who can just block a casual scan. But in this case they had a device. Our scientists have discussed the possibility of one, but this is the first I've actually seen that can block a scan completely."
"How did you find it?"
"Dyani did. When she took everything from the", her voice hitched, "the survivor, it included a hair ornament. As soon as it was taken, I could hear him. I thought she told you."
The Captain turned, "Dyani?"
"I thought Seeker had told you" the gunner replied.The Captain shook her head, "Always double check who has passed on what, OK?"
"Yes Captain" the three junior members of the crew said together."Now, do we have two of them?"
"Yes Captain" Dyani replied.
"Good. Hand one over to Sparks. Sparks?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Figure out how to make more. I am certain that the folks back on Mother of All will want to know how to make one."
"Aye!"
"Back to your duties. Alaine, Seeker stay put."The crew dispersed to their duties. Alaine and Seeker waited.
The Captain looked at them both. "Seeker, you are relieved of duties until you have completed the counselling." She started to object, but the Captain rolled over her, "Alaine? Your job is to make sure she goes. You will escort her to the session, and escort her back."
"Yes, Captain."
The Captain turned back to Seeker "It is not that I don't trust you, but things like this get under your skin, and make you think of doing all sorts of stupid things. After your first couple of sessions, have a talk to Sparks. She knows."
Alaine straightened up "I'll make sure, Captain."
The Captain looked them over "I'm certain you will. You've both got a map on your PDUs. The first appointment is in one hour."#SF #SFF #SciFi #Tootfic #Microfiction #Microfic #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace
-
CW: Tales From LibreOps (at this point I don't think it's microfic anymore, gonna drop that tag)
Over the course of several hours, they familiarize me with the hardware basics, the workstation's build system, and the audit they'd begun performing before I arrived. The network is reachable. Attempting to write an email crashes the email client. All other functions seem to work. The messenger issue seems to just be from a stalled update.
Stepping outside while waiting for the next step of the debugging process to complete, there's a weird ennui to stepping back into a world of trees and traffic and sidewalks.
Belatedly remembering my original plan to resolve this ticket, I retrieve my logo-plastered tote bag and fish out the aluminum slab of my corporate notebook, still silently judging me for my every datapoint.
Ignoring the itch of pervasive monitoring at each keystroke and pointer movement, I update the ticket with "work pending", and erase the part about an OS reload. No way am I going to attempt to modify this stack without a lot more time to study it, and that's going to have to happen in my off hours.
Clocking out, I swipe the notebook against the sensor of the local secure locker pod, and drop my branded tote bag into the padded recesses of my newly assigned local locker.
Tugging on the shoulder strap of my backpack to reassure myself it's still with me, I retrace my steps towards the building with the workstation.
-
CW: Tales From LibreOps (at this point I don't think it's microfic anymore, gonna drop that tag)
Over the course of several hours, they familiarize me with the hardware basics, the workstation's build system, and the audit they'd begun performing before I arrived. The network is reachable. Attempting to write an email crashes the email client. All other functions seem to work. The messenger issue seems to just be from a stalled update.
Stepping outside while waiting for the next step of the debugging process to complete, there's a weird ennui to stepping back into a world of trees and traffic and sidewalks.
Belatedly remembering my original plan to resolve this ticket, I retrieve my logo-plastered tote bag and fish out the aluminum slab of my corporate notebook, still silently judging me for my every datapoint.
Ignoring the itch of pervasive monitoring at each keystroke and pointer movement, I update the ticket with "work pending", and erase the part about an OS reload. No way am I going to attempt to modify this stack without a lot more time to study it, and that's going to have to happen in my off hours.
Clocking out, I swipe the notebook against the sensor of the local secure locker pod, and drop my branded tote bag into the padded recesses of my newly assigned local locker.
Tugging on the shoulder strap of my backpack to reassure myself it's still with me, I retrace my steps towards the building with the workstation.
-
CW: Tales From LibreOps (at this point I don't think it's microfic anymore, gonna drop that tag)
Over the course of several hours, they familiarize me with the hardware basics, the workstation's build system, and the audit they'd begun performing before I arrived. The network is reachable. Attempting to write an email crashes the email client. All other functions seem to work. The messenger issue seems to just be from a stalled update.
Stepping outside while waiting for the next step of the debugging process to complete, there's a weird ennui to stepping back into a world of trees and traffic and sidewalks.
Belatedly remembering my original plan to resolve this ticket, I retrieve my logo-plastered tote bag and fish out the aluminum slab of my corporate notebook, still silently judging me for my every datapoint.
Ignoring the itch of pervasive monitoring at each keystroke and pointer movement, I update the ticket with "work pending", and erase the part about an OS reload. No way am I going to attempt to modify this stack without a lot more time to study it, and that's going to have to happen in my off hours.
Clocking out, I swipe the notebook against the sensor of the local secure locker pod, and drop my branded tote bag into the padded recesses of my newly assigned local locker.
Tugging on the shoulder strap of my backpack to reassure myself it's still with me, I retrace my steps towards the building with the workstation.
-
Several long minutes of silence stretch as I take in everything here, and then I turn back towards the operator, finally ready with my first of what I suspect will be many questions.
"Would you show me how the problem manifests?"
Moving to the side of the cabinet, they point to the indicator labelled "EMAL" and "MSG", both of which are blinking amber-red, amber-red, in a slow distinct pattern.
"Okay, do you have documentation of those features of your workstation?"
They blink at me, one eyelid then the other, then tap a few words into one of the narrower keyboards near their side of the whole workstation arrangement.
"Not my machine. Just here to help fix."
So this operator isn't the machine's operator, then. But they must have some familiarity with the problem, then.
"What have you tried so far?"
They grimace, the first macroexpression I've seen them make so far, and begin to type.
-
Several long minutes of silence stretch as I take in everything here, and then I turn back towards the operator, finally ready with my first of what I suspect will be many questions.
"Would you show me how the problem manifests?"
Moving to the side of the cabinet, they point to the indicator labelled "EMAL" and "MSG", both of which are blinking amber-red, amber-red, in a slow distinct pattern.
"Okay, do you have documentation of those features of your workstation?"
They blink at me, one eyelid then the other, then tap a few words into one of the narrower keyboards near their side of the whole workstation arrangement.
"Not my machine. Just here to help fix."
So this operator isn't the machine's operator, then. But they must have some familiarity with the problem, then.
"What have you tried so far?"
They grimace, the first macroexpression I've seen them make so far, and begin to type.
-
Several long minutes of silence stretch as I take in everything here, and then I turn back towards the operator, finally ready with my first of what I suspect will be many questions.
"Would you show me how the problem manifests?"
Moving to the side of the cabinet, they point to the indicator labelled "EMAL" and "MSG", both of which are blinking amber-red, amber-red, in a slow distinct pattern.
"Okay, do you have documentation of those features of your workstation?"
They blink at me, one eyelid then the other, then tap a few words into one of the narrower keyboards near their side of the whole workstation arrangement.
"Not my machine. Just here to help fix."
So this operator isn't the machine's operator, then. But they must have some familiarity with the problem, then.
"What have you tried so far?"
They grimace, the first macroexpression I've seen them make so far, and begin to type.
-
The textured whitewash inside has been half-hidden by an array of ceiling tapestries, wooden wall shelves, and an obelisk of dark-painted metal enclosing several humming appliances.
The operator rises, their height making the small space seem to shrink, and I'm motioned wordlessly towards the repurposed vehicle crash seat in front of the multiple mismatched displays. Braided ropes of cable span the gap between displays and metal cabinet, where a whole constellation of lights indicate status, progress, and intensity of a dozen dozen ongoing processes.
Sinking into the chair, noticing despite myself how comfortable it is, I begin to read and mentally catalog the scope of this interface. I count at least three keyboards, but possibly up to five, and I have no clue which corresponds to what.
Some of the indicators are labelled with words like "public access" and "build status" but some are just three-letter initials or odd symbols, and there are reams of ragged, highlighter-stained papers magnet-clipped to most of the exposed metal frame of the system. There's several meters of corkboard full of operating instructions next to the cabinet, bold warnings alongside fine print in the maze of brightly colored paper art that winds its way through the technical documentation.
Scanning the board and readouts, mentally noting that the probable functional utility of this machine is barely decreased by the email client issue, I finally notice the large block letters printed on a torn page, pinned at the top of the board:
COMPILING SIMULATION
REBOOT PROHIBITEDThe date in the corner is older than I am.
-
The textured whitewash inside has been half-hidden by an array of ceiling tapestries, wooden wall shelves, and an obelisk of dark-painted metal enclosing several humming appliances.
The operator rises, their height making the small space seem to shrink, and I'm motioned wordlessly towards the repurposed vehicle crash seat in front of the multiple mismatched displays. Braided ropes of cable span the gap between displays and metal cabinet, where a whole constellation of lights indicate status, progress, and intensity of a dozen dozen ongoing processes.
Sinking into the chair, noticing despite myself how comfortable it is, I begin to read and mentally catalog the scope of this interface. I count at least three keyboards, but possibly up to five, and I have no clue which corresponds to what.
Some of the indicators are labelled with words like "public access" and "build status" but some are just three-letter initials or odd symbols, and there are reams of ragged, highlighter-stained papers magnet-clipped to most of the exposed metal frame of the system. There's several meters of corkboard full of operating instructions next to the cabinet, bold warnings alongside fine print in the maze of brightly colored paper art that winds its way through the technical documentation.
Scanning the board and readouts, mentally noting that the probable functional utility of this machine is barely decreased by the email client issue, I finally notice the large block letters printed on a torn page, pinned at the top of the board:
COMPILING SIMULATION
REBOOT PROHIBITEDThe date in the corner is older than I am.
-
The textured whitewash inside has been half-hidden by an array of ceiling tapestries, wooden wall shelves, and an obelisk of dark-painted metal enclosing several humming appliances.
The operator rises, their height making the small space seem to shrink, and I'm motioned wordlessly towards the repurposed vehicle crash seat in front of the multiple mismatched displays. Braided ropes of cable span the gap between displays and metal cabinet, where a whole constellation of lights indicate status, progress, and intensity of a dozen dozen ongoing processes.
Sinking into the chair, noticing despite myself how comfortable it is, I begin to read and mentally catalog the scope of this interface. I count at least three keyboards, but possibly up to five, and I have no clue which corresponds to what.
Some of the indicators are labelled with words like "public access" and "build status" but some are just three-letter initials or odd symbols, and there are reams of ragged, highlighter-stained papers magnet-clipped to most of the exposed metal frame of the system. There's several meters of corkboard full of operating instructions next to the cabinet, bold warnings alongside fine print in the maze of brightly colored paper art that winds its way through the technical documentation.
Scanning the board and readouts, mentally noting that the probable functional utility of this machine is barely decreased by the email client issue, I finally notice the large block letters printed on a torn page, pinned at the top of the board:
COMPILING SIMULATION
REBOOT PROHIBITEDThe date in the corner is older than I am.
-
Support ticket comes in over the wire.
Both the email client and instant messenger on this workstation have stopped working.
Operator reports that a variety of other low-level symptoms and emergence of medium to critical faults in the file manager and graphical interface. Remote system report says this is one of the PlasmaUI installs from '21, and there has been at least one previous ticket about an unbootable system. I'm gonna call it as due for an OS-level reinstall. Operator may complain, but they'll adjust.
Grabbing a copy of the installer from the build interface, I hoof it over to building 2700k, and jangle the intercom with the admin key.
"Yo, choba, anybody home?"
I tap my knuckles lightly on the door panel, and wait.
-
Support ticket comes in over the wire.
Both the email client and instant messenger on this workstation have stopped working.
Operator reports that a variety of other low-level symptoms and emergence of medium to critical faults in the file manager and graphical interface. Remote system report says this is one of the PlasmaUI installs from '21, and there has been at least one previous ticket about an unbootable system. I'm gonna call it as due for an OS-level reinstall. Operator may complain, but they'll adjust.
Grabbing a copy of the installer from the build interface, I hoof it over to building 2700k, and jangle the intercom with the admin key.
"Yo, choba, anybody home?"
I tap my knuckles lightly on the door panel, and wait.
-
Support ticket comes in over the wire.
Both the email client and instant messenger on this workstation have stopped working.
Operator reports that a variety of other low-level symptoms and emergence of medium to critical faults in the file manager and graphical interface. Remote system report says this is one of the PlasmaUI installs from '21, and there has been at least one previous ticket about an unbootable system. I'm gonna call it as due for an OS-level reinstall. Operator may complain, but they'll adjust.
Grabbing a copy of the installer from the build interface, I hoof it over to building 2700k, and jangle the intercom with the admin key.
"Yo, choba, anybody home?"
I tap my knuckles lightly on the door panel, and wait.
-
Support ticket comes in over the wire.
Both the email client and instant messenger on this workstation have stopped working.
Operator reports that a variety of other low-level symptoms and emergence of medium to critical faults in the file manager and graphical interface. Remote system report says this is one of the PlasmaUI installs from '21, and there has been at least one previous ticket about an unbootable system. I'm gonna call it as due for an OS-level reinstall. Operator may complain, but they'll adjust.
Grabbing a copy of the installer from the build interface, I hoof it over to building 2700k, and jangle the intercom with the admin key.
"Yo, choba, anybody home?"
I tap my knuckles lightly on the door panel, and wait.
-
Support ticket comes in over the wire.
Both the email client and instant messenger on this workstation have stopped working.
Operator reports that a variety of other low-level symptoms and emergence of medium to critical faults in the file manager and graphical interface. Remote system report says this is one of the PlasmaUI installs from '21, and there has been at least one previous ticket about an unbootable system. I'm gonna call it as due for an OS-level reinstall. Operator may complain, but they'll adjust.
Grabbing a copy of the installer from the build interface, I hoof it over to building 2700k, and jangle the intercom with the admin key.
"Yo, choba, anybody home?"
I tap my knuckles lightly on the door panel, and wait.
-
"So let me get this straight, you found our DNA, all 13 of us, on an old clay cup?"
"The Grail, yes. You all shared it that one time."
"And you made..."
"Grew."
"...grew copies of us? And now we all have to have dinner together every day because..?"
"It's the biggest attraction at Jesusland."
"What happens when we look too old?"
"We start a new generation every 5 years, your replacements are nearly ready. The Grail really does grant immortality, if you think about it."
-
"So let me get this straight, you found our DNA, all 13 of us, on an old clay cup?"
"The Grail, yes. You all shared it that one time."
"And you made..."
"Grew."
"...grew copies of us? And now we all have to have dinner together every day because..?"
"It's the biggest attraction at Jesusland."
"What happens when we look too old?"
"We start a new generation every 5 years, your replacements are nearly ready. The Grail really does grant immortality, if you think about it."
-
"So let me get this straight, you found our DNA, all 13 of us, on an old clay cup?"
"The Grail, yes. You all shared it that one time."
"And you made..."
"Grew."
"...grew copies of us? And now we all have to have dinner together every day because..?"
"It's the biggest attraction at Jesusland."
"What happens when we look too old?"
"We start a new generation every 5 years, your replacements are nearly ready. The Grail really does grant immortality, if you think about it."
-
"So let me get this straight, you found our DNA, all 13 of us, on an old clay cup?"
"The Grail, yes. You all shared it that one time."
"And you made..."
"Grew."
"...grew copies of us? And now we all have to have dinner together every day because..?"
"It's the biggest attraction at Jesusland."
"What happens when we look too old?"
"We start a new generation every 5 years, your replacements are nearly ready. The Grail really does grant immortality, if you think about it."
-
"So let me get this straight, you found our DNA, all 13 of us, on an old clay cup?"
"The Grail, yes. You all shared it that one time."
"And you made..."
"Grew."
"...grew copies of us? And now we all have to have dinner together every day because..?"
"It's the biggest attraction at Jesusland."
"What happens when we look too old?"
"We start a new generation every 5 years, your replacements are nearly ready. The Grail really does grant immortality, if you think about it."
-
"Oh, cazzo!"
"What is it?"
"See these?" Girelli points at three segments of numbers in the mage signature that forensics found at the crime scene. "These look like Goldeneye's signature."
"Goldeneye? You mean..."
Girelli nods, face paling as though he can already see the hunter-warlocks in their gas masks and basilisk-hide trenchcoats. "We've just stumbled across a MAGECOM operation."