Gail Simone’s short story for the Time Warp #1 anthology. I’m not a huge fan of Simone’s ongoing work but I have to say, her short stories are wonderful. Thank you for this one.
Art by Gael Bertrand, published by Vertigo.
I was very proud of this story, with amazing art by Gael Bertrand. My first Vertigo piece!
Today, I found a kitten sized chair and, luckily, I had a kitten to put in it.
Owls may be symbols of wisdom, but they’re actually complete morons
Topic suggested by Effraeti of Awaiting the Muse
This is an interesting question not only because it’s a nice creative outlet, but because it has me thinking all about which bosses stand out from the rest and why. What makes a boss memorable? How do you encapsulate it in a pet?
I’m not much of a designer, but I’ve picked out a few of my favourite bosses, each memorable for a different reason, and taken a wild stab at imagining up a pet for them.
I… what? A ghost of a dead horse?
I want a ghost of a dead horse and I want it now.
Here! A monk/Forsaken/storytelling focused WoW blog, because everyone knows my non-fiction sucks and needs practising.
I’ve also been doing NaNoWriMo by hand this year, so there’s no real online presence for that at all.
I’m also-also writing Obituary in a bizarre and unpostable order, because I am confusing like that.
Also-also-also I have a job now and am working long, long shifts for cash. My energy levels are strange and fluctuating and uncomfortable.
But I am, at least, alive!
The Undercity we reached was nothing like the underground fortress you are no doubt familiar with today. There were no lifts, no modified entranceways. No guards, either.
Instead, Cross led me through the vast front gates into Lordaeron city, across a plaza and on into the ruins of the streets. The houses there were tall, narrow and closely packed together. From the raised gate through which we entered, I could see row upon row of terraces following the curve of the outer wall far into the distance.
The thought of so many human beings living so close together was initially baffling, then sickening. I thought of the plagued falling from windows and through front doors, amassing in the street: four, five, six to a house. And, for the first time, the potential scale of the Scourge swarm I had helped to create began to dawn on me.
In stunned, wretched silence, I followed Cross. He took us along a narrow road. Between the cobblestones I saw the fading stains of blood; in the houses, broken pots and splintered wood. At first glance, it seemed the swarm had left all the signs of a massacre but the bodies.
'Now, this is where it gets a bit dodgy, right, but you're just going to have to bear with me.'
We had reached the end of the row, and Cross knelt just in front of me, where the gutter running alongside the raised pavement met a heavy metal grate set into the wall. He grasped the thick iron bars, grunted, and heaved the whole fixture away. A low, darkened hole remained, with the muddy water in the gutter trickling on through.
'Thinking positive,' said Cross speculatively, 'everyone's dead, so there 'in't much in the way of mess to slog through, if you get my meaning.'
Modern technology, sometimes I forget how fortunate I am to have you.
Browsing the “Dinosaurs on a Spaceship” tag and seeing plenty of pretty takes on this particular quote (I like this one!) alongside posts of rage re: Solomon’s death got me thinking about something I vaguely touched on in this post regarding the episode as a whole. That was more rant. This is more musing.