8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 19, July 2015, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron, Russell, and Stokes

[Andrew Perron]

On 7/7/2015 7:05 PM, Tom Russell wrote:

<snip>
> "The Creative Process" by Andrew Perron
> A story about words, and pain, and longing. Despite what you believe,
> you are enough, and always were. Creative magic.

I'm rather proud of this one. <3

> It was a matter of his attitude, his
> poise, the lazy hate in his eyes. There are men where you can only see
> their flesh, and nothing deeper: Silke was such a man. That sort of
> man Skin of Snake could impersonate reasonably well. But there are men
> where you can see all of them at once, where their souls are showing
> like the heat coming off the sand in the desert, and that was Ned
> Strife.

Mmmmmm yes ~.~<3 I know that feeling so hard.

>     Ned's soft mouth twisted into something hard, like a sneer. Then,
> it relaxed again, settling into a bemused little smile, which somehow
> was worse than the sneer could ever be. "Then I will leave him to your
> tender mercies, Jack."
>     Peake thanked him a half-dozen times; it made Skin of Snake cringe.

Nurgle.

>     "But breakfast first," said Ned. "Mr. Adams will be my guest. I
> don't want my new wife to think me inhospitable."

NARGLE.


> They put Adams on his left, but first
> Peake and his boys stripped him bare, the better to deprive him of the
> tools of his trade. One of the boys, who Peake called Trumpet, made a
> remark about Adams's soft and pretty complexion, and it was soon
> decided, with Ned's blessing, that they should dress Adams up as a
> whore. To Adams's left, they sat Celine, still tied up with her hands
> behind her back. Strife said he wanted to see what she could
> accomplish only with her mouth.

Man, these guys are scared. Trying so hard.

>     The first step had been to subtly alter any spell descriptions,
> engineering plans or arcane schematics that could have used to
> recreate the necessary mystic rituals and technologies. Simply
> removing those plans had been out of the question. The principle of
> proof of concept meant that once these things were known to be
> possible, then the Reich would throw unlimited resources at trying to
> recreate them. So instead Marcus had replaced the originals with
> disinformation that would send anyone who tried to use them off into
> useless dead ends.

Eeeeexcellent.

> When Marcus had investigated he had discovered that the Akashic
> Record was as all-encompassing as described - but nebulous and fuzzy,
> like a mirage.

Hm! Fascinating. I wonder if it's based on human memory.

>     Although Marcus' actions so far would prevent new magical pollution
> from being created, it would do very little about the already toxic
> state of the planetary arcanosphere. To correct that situation would
> need a sacrifice.  And in the antithesis of the unwilling sacrifice of
> the many who had died in pain and fear and horror, there would need to
> be a sacrifice that willingly suffered in return.

Hmmmmm. o.o Interesting. I wonder what the complication shall be.

>     Marcus Oustler could not do that. He has tried repeatedly over many
> years to achieve that kind of emotional state. And he had failed. In
> the end he had shamefacedly realised that he was merely human, and
> that deep down he could not erase the sense of resentment and regret
> that came from knowing that he - who had not been involved in creating
> this mess in the first place - had to give up everything in order to
> clean it up, while those who men who had been responsible had waltzed
> away with all the benefits and none of the costs.

Awwwwwww :<

> It was an extremely
> human reaction. An extremely petty reaction. And it had shocked Marcus
> to realise that he was not one of Nietzsche's overmen, that he did not
> possess the Olympian detachment to carry through with what needed to
> be done at any cost.

Awwwwwwww! Good. <3 Good sir.

> The Librarian lifted the Netherguard plate to her lips and, to
> Fn'ordh's surprise, took a small bite out of it, a muffled metallic
> grinding sound coming from her mouth as she chewed it up.

I love this moment, I talked to Colin about all of this but I want to emphasize 
how much I liked this moment.

> =Now then; you shall hear of me, and of my
> desires. And then I shall hear much the same of you.  So long as we
> are honest,= she continued with the vaguest hint of a smile, =there
> need be no further... hostilities between us.

Srsly, Libby. Amazing/

>     =I had companions, once,= the Librarian continued, quietly. =I had
> steadfast friends, mighty warriors of mind and heart; and together -
> had we stayed together, why, nothing would be beyond us...  But even
> those were denied to me, in the end, and I was left with only myself
> and my Self for company.=

;.;

> ----------------------------------------------------
> --------------------AILUROMANCER--------------------
> ----------------------------------------------------

Innnnnteresting.

> But one day, June thought to
> ask after him of the other cats on Ulthar Street. They all knew the
> old tom; he was the oldest cat in their living memory.

Hm! Interesting.

> June nimbled up to the porch, a simple stairless slab of cement. In lieu of
> a welcome mat, there was a black spot that looked at first glance to
> be the result of a fire, yet had the shape of a liquid that had long
> ago slowly oozed and spread. Looking at it made her mancer's mark
> burn, and so she didn't step on the spot.

I love the subtle, unexplained detail - the way felinity blends with humanity 
blends with... something else.

>     The sun had gone down by the time she left the porch, and that
> seemed altogether too fast. Its final rays of light splashed against
> the wooden gate, and June saw the scratch marks there. She brushed her
> fingers against the tiny splintering wood. She found something white
> and clear, dagger-shaped. Upon touching it, she recognized it as one
> of the tom's nails.

Ohshi--

>     She closed the gate behind her. A few of the local cats were
> staring at her, startled. They then explained, in their wordless way,
> that June was only the second cat that had ever returned from the Dark
> Place.

Hmmmmmmm. Fascinating. Or should I say... CATscinating? (No, that's dumb. But 
this is great.)

>     That night, every cat within five miles of the house disappeared.
> Strays and squatters, backyard serenaders and park-prowlers,
> sneak-thieves and mousers, scratchers and kneaders, all gone. For the
> outside-cats, few noticed their absence, but the inside-cats caused
> several hours of panic as their "owners" frantically searched for
> their dandy-boys and haughty princesses, checking all the favorite and
> familiar hiding places over and again in frantic rotation. Then: there
> he was the whole time, but didn't I look there, and what do you have
> in your mouth, some kind of hair, it's slick and long and brown.

Prrrrrrrr.

>     The next morning, the house on the corner was gone, but none of the
> humans (not even June) remembered it ever being there in the first
> place.

Hmmmmmmmm! :o

> There was instead a small walled garden in which the local cats
> congregated, and, it seemed, had always done so. Chief among their
> number was an old tom with fur like bristles who liked to be scratched
> on the chin.

Hmmmmmm. <3 Very good.

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, wondrous natural worlds.