Moe Lane's Blog, page 520
July 23, 2022
07/23/2022 Snippet, 2084.
More fighting!
Patreon!Jim’s hopefully final assailant had a lined face, a final defiant fringe of gray hair on his mottled pate, and the sunken expression that comes from having too few teeth. If it had been five years ago, Jim would have guessed his age at being anywhere from thirty to fifty. Now? He looked like someone from an area resisting Reclamation. Certainly the bastard had enough rage in his watery eyes to be a loyalist from the old regime.
And a well-fed one, too; the bastard threw the still-smoking pistol right into Jim’s face. Only blind luck let Jim get one arm up in time to stop him from losing some teeth of his own, and that same arm took a long, vicious slice from the knife blade that followed.
Astoundingly, the attacker stepped back. “Sharpthing badjuice, badman,” he sneered in Goodsay, his mouth a distorted grin. “Sleep now. No unsleep later.”
“See, this is why I fucking hate that language,” Jim wheezed, carefully not touching his ripped arm. Instead, he moved into a unarmed combat stance, noting how his opponent’s eyes suddenly widened. “Even when you want to explain something, you can’t. ‘Badjuice’ I can sorta figure out from context, but was it poison, or just a sedative?”
The SHAZAM! FURY OF THE GODS and BLACK ADAM trailers.
I’m down for both, but more for SHAZAM! FURY OF THE GODS. The BLACK ADAM flick is kind of growing on me, though. The first trailers were a little iffy, but this one seems a lot more smoothed out.
Also: wow, I know kids grow up quick, but the kids playing the Marvel Family might as well start hanging out with the Teen Titans after this. Which I don’t think I’d mind seeing, at that.
(Audio)book of the Week: FROZEN DREAMS.
I wish we had hit the Kickstarter stretch goal that would have let me do an audiobook of TINSEL RAIN. Alas. Maybe in a couple of years. In the meantime, get your audiobook copy of FROZEN DREAMS now!
#commissionearned
The JOHN WICK trailer.
Just JOHN WICK. No ‘4,’ or anything. Guess they figured we’d work it all out.
That’s fair.
Moe Lane
PS: As I noted on Twitter, these movies resemble nothing so much as grounded, somber art-house reflections on the demands that responsibilities and obligations put on regular people… if the writer was Ventrue, and the director Toreador. And now I really want to see an official Vampire: The Masquerade movie. I mean, this will do, but I want the genuine article.
#commissionearned
July 22, 2022
07/22/22 July Patreon Pledge Drive.
Nine days to go until the end of July, thanks to Julius Caesar. Funny thing about old Caesar, there: he never signed up for my Patreon. And look what happened to him.
Patreon!That’s right! He missed out on weekly microfiction, monthly short stories and gaming material, and the chance for a weekly serial at $200/month. Be smarter than Caesar! Sign up today!
Pic of the Day, Adventures In Unfortunate Logos edition.
Dear Lord.
You know everyone working there has heard the jokes. Sometimes even when they're SURE they're by themselves, they'll hear the mocking laughter. pic.twitter.com/XId9Uwsvgj
— Ogiel (Moe Lane) (@Ogiel23) July 23, 2022
And my wife saw the exact same thing I did. Heck, she made me stop the car so that she could get that picture. So I’m not crazy for my own double-take.
@bfleuter’s New Webcomic THE BEEKEEPER’S TALE starts August 22nd.
I’ve been waiting a while for this. I still miss THE SWORD INTERVAL. There were more stories in there, I always thought. But THE BEEKEEPER’S TALE should be fun, too.
Feeling confident enough to have a launch date.
— Ben Fleuter (@bfleuter) July 22, 2022
The Beekeeper's Tale – a fantasy webcomic about a little sprite with a big destiny. pic.twitter.com/63FiyuLWKR
07/22/2022 Snippet, 2084.
Fighting!
Patreon!But so did Jim; he noted the look of surprise on the first morlock’s face before the iron-weighted base of Jim’s business satchel smashed into it. Jim pivoted and threw the satchel into the lead morlock’s gut, staggering her. He shifted slightly to face the third, who had pulled out a rock-hammer, its head already a blur of vibration from the battery in its handle.
The morlock’s swing wasn’t wild. But it was just a bit badly-timed; and Jim had both a longer reach, and better reflexes. He stepped into the morlock’s swing, grabbed his arm, and and redirected the rock-hammer into one wooden ‘window.’ Jim then stamp-kicked the morlock’s ankle with brutal pragmatism. It was still three against one.
Or more like one-and-a-half against one, he decided as he took two careful steps back. The first morlock was lying slumped on a seat; from the bloodstains, it looked like he had bounced the back of his head against a pole. The last one was picking herself up, now holding his satchel as either shield, or weapon. From what Jim could see, it wouldn’t matter much, either way.
“Put it down, citizen,” Jim said. “The King’s papers are in there, and he doesn’t like it when they’re stolen. That stop’s still coming up. Why not drop it, and run?” And let the damn sammies chase you down, instead of me. That’s why they joined the police, isn’t it?
