Moe Lane's Blog, page 626
December 12, 2021
‘The First Noel.’
The First Noel, The Hound + the Fox
#commissionearned
Patreon Microfiction: ‘Personal Thaumaturgical Choice.’
Yeah, that particular method in ‘Personal Thaumaturgical Choice’ does sound kind of awful. The kind of awful that ensures that the mages who use it don’t ever seem to successfully surrender. Real fight-to-the-death types, those.
Patreon!Tweet of the Day, There Are Crazy-Faced Goats edition.
Say what you like about how many Thors there are on that poster: the goats are pretty cool.
AYYYYOOOOOOOOOOO #ThorLoveandThunder pic.twitter.com/wVAlUOdx9A
— EMPEROR BOSS (@GodEmperorBoss) December 11, 2021
12/12/21 Snippet, TINSEL RAIN.
More character stuff!
Patreon!“A warning would have been nice, Randy,” I groused as I settled myself in a chair. “Like, telling my just how many hooks Howie had in Tourista. Even if you brought it up in passing.”
This time Randy wasn’t offering me a drink. But he wasn’t snarling or anything, either. “What would you have done if I had? Said, ‘Never mind,’ then knock off for the day? I don’t think so.”
I snorted. “Not a chance in Hell. I’d have knocked, all right, and a lot harder. But I’d have started off with banging on the right doors.”
“Yeah, well, maybe some people didn’t want you popping in for a visit quite so quick.”
“That thought crossed my mind, too.” I glared at him. “And why wouldn’t they want a visit from a Shamus? What was the big worry?”
“Who you asking there, Tom?”
“Well, let’s see. The judge won’t know, because nobody would tell you anything official. And the Stone won’t say, because ‘screw you, gumshoe.’ So I guess I’m asking Randy. Looks like he’s the only one in your head that I can talk to about this.”
December 11, 2021
Have a good weekend!
If the post just now wasn’t obvious enough, here ya go: I’m taking most of today and tomorrow off. Christmas stuff, and I don’t feel bad about it all. Everybody: have a good weekend.
Book of the Week: FROZEN DREAMS.
Gimme a break, I’m in a time crunch, here. Besides, the more copies of FROZEN DREAMS sells, the more often I can come out with new books. Everybody wants that, right? #commissionearned
December 10, 2021
Mostly taking a break from writing this weekend.
My numbers are good enough to let me have Saturday as a bye day. Which is good, because we got Christmas stuff to do. Starting with wrapping a present tonight, to give to my goddaughter Sunday. The Children’s Illustrated Clausewitz, Volume 1: the first printing has, naturally, sold out. But that’s all right. We have our copies already*.
Moe Lane
*It did, indeed, show up in MORGAN BAROD. Go figure… #commissionearned.
12/10/21 Snippet, TINSEL RAIN.
Tuckerization reward from the FROZEN DREAMS Kickstarter (there’s more)! #commissionearned
Patreon!“You’re in my town without asking,” Randy told me. While handing me a healthy knock of almost-guaranteed Kentucky Free State bourbon, so the signals were a little mixed, here. “Why are you in my town?”
“I don’t know. Which hat are you wearing?” I replied. “Tourista’s, the 300’s, or the Crown’s?”
Randy — or Sir Randall Fiebre Stone, depending — rubbed his head and grinned. He didn’t have a hat on, or much hair these days. “Let’s start with the Crown’s. After you finish your bourbon. I don’t drink on this job.”
“All right, Your Honor. What I’m doing ain’t none of the Tourista Municipal Court business, yet. I don’t wanna say not ever, because that’d just be asking for trouble, but the Case I’m on ain’t about Tourista. Not really. It’s just, you know, a locale.”
“Good to hear it, Shamus Vargas.” He mimed taking off a wig. “Now what are you going to tell the Stone, Seat 18C?”
“The 300 representative? The exact same thing as I did the judge, except he can drink on the job.” I poured us both drinks; we clinked glasses.
December 9, 2021
12/09/21 Snippet, TINSEL RAIN.
Flying monkeys! I FORGOT ABOUT THE FLYING MONKEYS AND THE ICEMOLD. Also, the revisions have shoved the book past the 70,000 word mark. Huzzah!
Patreon!As I approached the monster, at first I thought it was just that rogue flying monkey I had seen, the first time I left the Magpie’s lair. The old-style television set it had for a head — now cracked, and showing a distorted rainbow — would be pretty distinctive in a lineup, you understand. So would the general aura of decrepit menace. I figured the Magpie must have kept it around to ostentatiously spy on Cin City. Which made me wonder why I wasn’t getting attacked yet. These things were Dominion toys: I wasn’t sure why she would want to try to kill me this way, unless of course she was bored. That’s always enough reason for an Archmage to get nasty.
As I got closer I started to smell — well, I started to smell a bunch of things, all jammed together. There was the flying monkey itself, which was as rank as I remembered. And there was a sharp alchemical tang, too. But what really set my nose and my gorge off was the reek of icemold. It was all over this thing, the filthy stuff, and when the flying monkey moved one paw more rotting icemold fell from the rips in its arms.
I hate the Universal Dominion. I hate things like flying monkeys, because they’ve been used to beat up people for centuries. But I caught myself hoping that this poor thing wasn’t aware of the corruption it had been forced to endure.
On the other hand… I pulled my gun, and aimed it right at the center of that mocking TV screen. If this thing had icemold growing in it, the gun would work just fine. “I don’t know if you’re going to Hell, creature,” I muttered as I took aim, “but if you do, I hope they make you the roommate of the bastard who did this to you.”
12/09/21 Snippet, THE DOOM THAT CAME TO LUNA CITY.
Equipment!
Patreon!The other three were quicker to shrug the weirdness off. Jilly and Yu-Wu had found a workstation with access to external communications, and were already running diagnostics and hooking up auxiliary batteries and practicing other arcane technical arts. Joe-Bob had found a convenient place to watch the room and the doors, and was now standing guard. They all had pistols rated for vacuum, but from the way Joe-Bob held his, he was more than merely certified in firearms. Which is why you brought him along, Tobias reminded himself. The moon had never been fought over, and the last big war on Earth had been fifty years ago. Soldiers with meaningful combat experience had been rare here.
In the original plan, Tobias and the others would already have climbed five levels down, and working on the likely vacuum-locked doors to get to the spare parts. But since there was power and air, it made more sense to use the elevators. But to do that Tobias would have to get the station’s operating systems back up and running…
