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February 11 - February 13, 2025
The important thing is that I have pants again! This is an achievement.
Basically, deterministic nonlinear processes are sensitively dependent on initial conditions, and that’s why Jeff almost gets eaten by raptors.
Or maybe you didn’t tell them about that part of the plan, because they’re a nasty would-be rapist and you’re sort of hoping they get killed.
I don’t want to claim to be the best archer in the world—actually, fuck it, I am definitely the best archer in the world.
Not a bad way to die if you’re picking. Take it from an expert. Could be worse.
People are slapping me on the back, standing over a bloody corpse. Yay, dead people, hooray! What a great job we did!
Then it’s party time!
Nobody will damage his perfect ass while I’m Dark Lord. I think I’m drunk.
The universe may be a vicious pile of utter nonsense, but at least when you drink drinks, you get drunk.
Poor Strak, definitely sad he’s dead. But we did it!”
Another cheer for Dark Lord Davi. I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of that.
“You are very strange.” “I get that
Real
Seriously, if you were going to grab someone from Earth to save the Kingdom, wouldn’t you pick a person who can open a pickle jar without help?
Geography lesson! If you want to look at a map, there’s probably one in the front, flip back a few pages.
Fortunately, there’s the completely mad route, where you lay a ruler down between where you start and where you’re going and just walk in that direction.
“You’re mad,” Tsav says. If I had a dollar for every time I’d been told that, I’d have a pile of worthless green paper big enough to sleep on. “Probably.”
These are my troops, after all, my loyal minions; the least I can do is know their names, their fears, their hopes and dreams.
Enough with the kind leader doing her best for her people, that’s not how a Dark Lord thinks. I’m more like a ruthless CEO mining the scrap heap for raw gems ready to be polished into my able lieutenants.
This is how i feel teaching
That’s it. Back to bed.
Still. You go to war with the army you have, I guess. Every Dark Lord starts somewhere.
It’s the ciiiiiircle of life, until the humans come along and slaughter everybody because (a) they want the thaumite too, and (b) beasts and wilders have a tendency to wreak havoc on farms and shit.
Now, that is proper minioning.
there is a big one, damn it
Most animals respond to surprises by fleeing. Beasts tend heavily toward the “psychotic aggression” end of the spectrum. They do not make good neighbors.
Fuck me. I forgot the mantra.
The water is brutally cold, so each time I do this, I stand around for a moment freezing my tits off and gathering my courage for the next rinse cycle.
Half the job of being boss, after all, is acting like a boss, performing boss-ness, whether you’re gunning for the corner office or the big iron hat with spikes.
We have, it must be admitted, not heard the tales of her prowess before, but that is surely our failing and not hers.” Oh, I like this one.
“Making introductions is a little beneath me.”
The food is, wonder of wonders, actually pretty fucking good.
“Though I’d give the lizard better odds of becoming Dark Lord than you.”
Oh fuck. I don’t like his smile one bit.
This had been going so well too.
Not accepting his fucking dinner invite, for starters.
Do you want to spend months in a torture chamber? Because that is how you spend months in a torture chamber.
We’ll see how this plays out. Maybe this life can be rescued. But I reserve the right to strangle myself with the bedsheets.
They yank us apart, but I waggle my eyebrows. Not exactly a promise, right? Just… you know. An eyebrow waggle.
Of course Davi has a plan. Davi just needs to figure out what it is.
“Really? Cheers, thanks for that!” I raise my cup in mock salute.
“You haven’t seen my molder—it’s top-notch.”
“We have friends among the enemy. Well. More than friends, I guess. We have fuck buddies among the enemy.”
I think sexy bald orc lady is jealous. That’s definitely an interesting development.
I grab the knife from my belt, leap up on Gevalkin’s back like a kid climbing up her dad, and stab him like a kid who has gotten hold of a carving knife and is done with bedtime.
If that doesn’t get someone to say, “Hey, did you help murder the boss?” I don’t know what will.
It’s a great moment. I wish I had my phone, I’d have gone viral for sure.
In other words, it’s flashback time.
And, let’s be candid, fucking the average man into blissful unconsciousness is not exactly the Labors of Hercules.
When you’re down by a million points with ten seconds left, you throw the Hail Maryest of Hail Marys and keep on throwing them until the whistle blows.
But the rest are the murmurs of a large group of people saying collectively what nobody wants to actually shout out loud, which is Fuck that guy.
The thing about manipulating a crowd is that you don’t have to convince everyone.
