So far, so good…site’s working

Nothings exploding yet.

And the new theme and Jetpack integration seems to have increased the speed of the site. So that’s a good thing.

Now to run with this for a while, and finish setting up the contact form and mailing list again… Saving the Call to Action section for that though.

In the mean time, I think this looks good: at least my 3 am self does.

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Another year … another thought

Congrats to all those that survived 2016. And sorrows for those that did not.

For myself and mine.. we survived. Bodies, family, loves all good. Slowly working on my next task – a very dry, academic task that has no creativity. Unfortunately, that means all the creative juices are flooding my mind. Add to it that many of the RPG’s I’ve loved are getting updates, re-releases or are just being found again on shelves means all those old times, half created storylines, partially baked plots just bubbling to the mind’s eye.

Soon, I’ll be done and can write again. For now though, small posts like these may end up coming out. For now: Continue reading

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New Partnerships

note: Trying out two new characters. Please, if you read this, put your thoughts down below.


Detective Steve Murphy sits or more accurately slouches in a seat at the bar. His glass half empty with some amber colored liquid. As he takes a sip, his face is unresponsive to any taste, so haggard and shallow, with red rimmed eyes. Putting the glass down, Murphy purposefully knocks against a high heeled shoe, it’s owner gently swaying on the bar above him. Murphy doesn’t even look at her, his gaze on the glass and the black strip of cloth next to it.

When Murphy doesn’t immediately pick the glass up again, it is replaced by a beautiful face. The faces blue eyes looking for his, the feathers where hair should have been swaying on the bar in time to the music.

“Hey, Murph what can a girl do to wipe that sorry face of yours?” The voice, the accent of lilting tones and small chirps is normally enough to make Murphy smile. Today though, Murphy’s face doesn’t change, he doesn’t even look at the dancer. After a few beats, the feathers, the face, and the dancer above all leave Murphy to his solitude and grief. The girls normally don’t mind that Murphy doesn’t tip them well, but he is a warm talkative man, normally.

A large, deep, gravelly voice came from behind Murphy, “He was a good man.”

Liquid swirled in Murphy’s glass, “the best.”

Greenish-gray skinned, weighing more than the largest linebackers, the voice sat down on a stool next to Murphy. The stool groaned and complained as it settled, “Captain said I could find you hear.”

A lithe, blue haired girl behind the bar started to glide over, her yes for the large newcomer, who waved the girl off with a large hairy hand. The sounds of ice clinking glass, Murphy’s last sip swirling called blue back.

The girl’s pert nose looked at Murphy and his guest. “Well?”

“Club with lime, one of us is still on duty.” The newcomer said. Dismissal echoing his order.

“Another” Murphy said to the bartender.

“Why” The gravel said, with many questions in that one word.

Murphy chose the simplest, and perhaps the one most likely to win him his solitude.”At least that one could be human.”

“And that matters?” Again with the many questions in one.

“Joe was” Murphy sighed,Joe was human in all he did, especially how he died. “And the girls, help me think.”

Blue seems to have impeccable timing as the conversation lapses into each rethinking things.She slides in, serves the drinks. First the newcomer in his bad, off the rack suit, stretched at the seams, black cloth tied around his bicep. He seemed to be ignoring the bartender in favor of watching a gyrating sylvian at a table. Yet, to Blue, his eyes and face said he was lost, searching for something to say.

Murphy, Blue would have said she knew. Yet this man today, she did not know. His gaze was locked behind red rimmed eyes. His focus could have been anywhere or nowhere for all the attention he paid to her and the girls. his gray suit wrinkled and worn as he slouched in the seat.

Blue turned to another as she heard Murphy’s, leave me along tone:”

What do ya want anyways.” It wasn’t a question.

“Captain said.”

“You said that,” even more annoyance creeping in. “But I doubt your here to buy me drinks.”

The big orc sighed, there was no way he could soften it. “I’m your new partner.”

Murphy’s glass slammed down, “Don’t need a new partner.”

“told you need one.”

“By who?”

The orc blinked, “Dr. Glade.”

“Son-of-a meddling shrink” Murphy slammed the last of his drink and called for another.

The orc just blinked, suppressing the instinct to join in the display of emotion. He wasn’t sure what Murphy had against the doctor. She was one of the few police, or elves even that he liked.

Murphy saw what his effect his temper was having, on the orc, on a few of the dancers, on his beet red face in the mirror. “Damn blood pressure.” Blowing out a loud long breath, he calmed the anger and frustration.

“What’s your name? Where you from?” Murphy didn’t care about where the orc was born, no cop does when confronted with a new, and hereto unknown partner.

“Detective Brock Stone, South Precinct”

“Freak ward huh?” Murphy mused aloud, “suppose you need to be big down there.”

A bit warily, “it helps.” Brock wasn’t sure if that was a compliment.

“So besides Glade saying I need a new partner, which I don’t. Why are you here.” Murphy looked at the black cloth on the bar, “Why come up to Metro.” Why me, he almost added.

Brock smiled a sharp fanged smile that promised menace and pain. “Jimmy the Red,” even here, uptown many of the girls who heard the Black Guard’s name froze for a moment looking around.

Murphy ignored them. “He is going down for what he’s done.” Murphy said it with so much pain and hate and determination in his voice that a few of the more sensitive girls swooned.

Brock couldn’t help himself, he responded to the menace and dark promises.”Clean up, tomorrow we hunt dwarf.” The orc’s fangs were fully protruding, here was another that truly knew the pain of losing someone to the nearly untouchable criminal.

“Tomorrow?” Murphy looked side ways at his new partner. “I’m done here. Now” In one smooth motion, Detective Murphy was standing, cash was on the bar, and Murphy’s gun was checked as the suit jacket settled back into place, free of wrinkles.

Detective Brock Stone had learned many humans could drink with the best of them, but even then a full day of it left them unsteady and jerky. Steven Murphy moved like a monk, a stone sober monk. Reaching out, Brock sniffed the man’s glass, a broad grin spreading around the orc’s fangs “Apple juice.”

Murphy’s reply was lost in the complaints and groans of suit material and wooden seat as the mountain of muscled flesh stood. As they both turned to the door, Stone thought he would like this human.

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A new poem

All I hear is gravel,

in my voice, in the air.

Soil and calm my surroundings are

but for the crunch, scrape and grey.

Lunch with companions, all quiet in the grave.

For the grace is where I look,

inspiration, resolution, and peace.

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Playing with a few new characters.

Playing around with a new story setting, possibly a new voice as well. Comments are always appreciated.


I saw her again.

I saw the Witch.  She was squatting under the old ATM spot on Fifth and Mill. Her long hair, even longer and blacker than I’ve ever seen it before. She was filthy, and it went deeper than simple street crud. She sat, without looking at anyone, singing. I watched as a person dropped a phys-cred into a battered tin cup that lay on the sidewalk between her feet.

I felt compelled to do something. She used to be a friend, no she was more than that. Now though, we moved in completely different worlds. She had her visions, her family’s curse; I had computers, electronics and a steady job.

I’m not sure those compare. But we did go in separate ways, each having their own needs, desires, and vision of how the world worked. I struggled to finish school, she fought not to go crazy. Even in our parting both of us knew we would enter each other’s lives again when it was needed.

“Hey, you eaten today.”

“No” slurred out from under that greasy hair. The cup rattled and she glared at it.

Gasps and a few catcalls erupted from some of the college students and assorted hipsters too rich for a real job, to young to play at Dad’s. I pulled the witch to her feet, and with a hand around that once shapely waist pulled her into a Jack in the Box. Closest thing with mostly real food anyways.

A Dr. Pepper for me; a water, an iced tea, and an egg sandwich for her later, we were seated in a booth. Without a word those spindly fingers had the sandwich top under that hair and I could hear her eating it. Fast food for a girl that used to only eat all organic, local stuff. Times obviously changed as I watched her pour the last three pieces of Kibble out of a dirty handout bag, expired at that. What a great humanitarian program that turned out to be.

“Thank” she was stumbling for words. “You.” A combat boot started to caress the back of my shin. “Repay?”

Shuddering, “No!” I pulled my legs back to emphasize the point. Though I wondered if she recalled when that was all we wanted from each other.

She recoiled like she had been shot, hands wrapped under her clothes, face hidden even deeper under that veil of hair, and she was very, very still. I dug out a spare credchip, old habits die hard, and passed it to her.

“Look, I didn’t do this cause I want anything from you. But if you take that, you need to spend it on food or water for yourself. Ok?”

A slight spark told me it was time to go. “Take it, there is enough to get you into a home or shelter for a while.” Standing I grabbed my now empty cup. A hand had re-emerged onto the table.

“How – can I – repay you?” the food, and actual human interaction was already doing her some good.

I knew there would be hell to pay but I did it anyways, I leaned in close before nearly whispering my reply. “You already did, long ago.” she stiffened as I straightened to the smell of toasted skin. A glance confirmed I was going to have to replace another watch.

She grabbed me as I turned away. “Don’t go, please don’t.”

“I have to go to work, but I will find you later if you want.” I had no plans tonight other than being bored with the latest war coverage from the UK and maybe some football.

“Yes, very much so.” She tossed her hair back to look at me. She looked at me with those eyes of hers, one blue, one green the stuff of legend, of dreams. At first there was no recognition in them.

Smiling, “eat it all, drink it all. I will find you later just keep that on you.”

I was a few paces from the table when I felt recognition hit her, less than a breath later it hit me too. She had left from the table to embrace me from behind. “Thank you, Michael.”

She released me and I made it out the door before everything in my left eye turned a dull gray leaving the slight smell of ozone and more burnt flesh.

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Paddy the Teddy Bear finds his sword

“Take it.” The old storekeeper thrust the stuffed snake into Dad’s hands. “Your little girl needs a special friend to go with her bear.”

“How did you know…” Dad said.

I didn’t want the stupid snake. It was all black and green, with stupid red beads for eyes.

“Well ok,” Father was saying.

“For him no charge just so I know it’s going to a good home.” Her smile was as big as a clown’s.

I hated clowns, they’re too white skin, and their too big smiles. Of course being 9 I wouldn’t admit that to Dad. The only one I ever told when I was afraid was Paddy. Paddy was my bear, he protected me at night and made the bad dreams go away.

But it was Christmas time, which meant Dad was home and he always bought me presents. As long as I didn’t have to carry the creepy snake.

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I hate recurring dreams

I never found out what woke me up.

That was the first problem, or maybe the last I’m not sure. All I know is that something woke me up past the middle of the night. I wouldn’t say it was dawn, or close but that odd reverse twilight that those who are used to staying up all night all know.

I couldn’t hear anything over the heater/blower going. No clue how long that had been on but long enough that I was sweating even without the covers on me. I didn’t hear her, nor the cat either.

That’s when it hit me, I couldn’t see her. Normally bunched up in a ball next to me, all knees and elbows in my direction. She wasn’t there. No, that wasn’t right. She might have been but I couldn’t turn my head to look at her.

It was like something was holding me in a brace, only I couldn’t really feel it.

I couldn’t move my legs or my arms either. I think I was wiggling my fingers, but my toes didn’t even stir up the blanket enough to get the cat interested… wherever the cat was.

I have no clue how long it was since I had awoken due to some mysterious noise, but it was long enough that I nearly screamed with the frustration of not being able to wipe the sweat off my forehead. I suppose the one good thing of being forced to look straight ahead like that was the sweat was only trickling down the sides of it and not into my eyes.

I also felt how hot I was. Just to kick the rest of the blankets off would have been a great thing. Why was the heater still going?

It was then I noticed the shadow. My roaming eyes had finally found something that didn’t belong. A long darker than the current night shadow on my exposed thigh. Just the one closest to the edge. Focussing on my leg like that made me realize that not all of me was sweaty.

Somehow, now that I was aware of the leg, the realization that it was ice cold was hitting me hard. Harder still was that I still couldn’t move. My eyes roamed all over the room but I strained now to see what caused the blackness on my leg. A shadow that was as still as I was.

Agonizingly slowly the room started to grow lighter as the sun came up. Slowly, like a thief that light came in. Like smoke from a fire it edged it’s way around corners and from the gaps between window and the curtains. Still I could feel how on fire most of me was, but for that jagged spike of black ice that was on my thigh.

I could finally see that it wasn’t a shadow. Rather a large black spot that was seeming to grow now in the light. A few inches longer down my thigh than the scar, and it seemed to be a good half way around my thing with the scar it’s center.

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What’s up.

That simple statement threw the girl into a round of introspect worthy of a mendat. Before she finally shrugged a response.
Hi. I’m Kimber.


So… What you doing?


Huff. No body does anything in this place.


Come on, wanna see a movie.

Which one?

Don’t know. Anything.

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Got some work done on the site.

Still not happy with the layout completely. The images are coming along which helps with showing the formatting.

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Hello World 2 Times

Hello World!

times 2 so..

Hello World!

Now where will this show up?

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