jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] avanti_90: “A contest for mad architects”

Note: Yeah I said no fanfic requests. I reserve the right to be inconsistent.

* * *

Third Annual Dono Vorrutyer Memorial Architecture Competition

“Aral, are you all right?” Cordelia asked with concern. Her husband the Lord Regent was standing in front of the model apartment building, one of two dozen on display in the University of Vorbarr Sultana's commencement hall, his head cocked at a sharp angle as he followed the spiral from the base of the building to the... she thought it might be a vertical launch tower at the top, but it was hard to tell.

“I think I've looked at too many of these,” he admitted. “This one almost makes sense.”

“I thought the art museum design with all the plumbing mounted outside was rather clever,” she noted.

“But not practical for maintenance purposes. The whole point behind Vorrutyer's designs was that while they might have been insane to an outsider's perspective, they actually hung together and worked.”

“Yes, but how many other stadiums since the Roman Coliseum can be flooded for underwater combat competitions?”

“True, dear Captain." Aral looked around. "We should find Miles and Bothari and head back to the palace.”

“Oh, let them stay a while. Miles might be inspired.”

“So I fear...”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Day 210


For [livejournal.com profile] avanti_90: “A very nice person deliberately builds a fake reputation for evil. Why?”

* * *

Single room office the size of a penthouse, check. Painfully white interior and 60's era “modern” furniture, check. God's eye view of the city out of ceiling to floor windows, check.

The guy even had a honest-to-God Nehru jacket.

“You're not fooling anyone, y'know,” I said.

“Says the intrepid reporter,” he replied.

“I've seen your records. Crime is ten percent what it was three years ago. So's unemployment. The air is clean now. You could run for governor.”

“Do you know how much power I'd have to give up to become governor?”

“Ha. I used to watch Justice League, sorry, and you're no Lex Luthor.”

“Keep talking like that and you'll earn yourself a nice little 'vacation.'”

“Yeah, I've noticed how inconvenient people disappear from your organization, only to end up in dream jobs that keep them remarkably occupied.”

“I'm not in the habit of wasting personnel smart enough to notice things. Redirection in always easier, and less messy, than murder.”

“Then what is with the evil mastermind act?”

“To keep people from being complacent.”

“Why?”

He leaned over his desk to glare at me. “I don't like sheep.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] avanti_90: “An international convention of mad scientists”

* * *

“Igor! Hey buddy! Long time no see!”

“LAdy IrOnhAnd, it's gOOd to sEE you. HoW ArE thE kIds?”

“Oh, they're doing great, let me get you a drink.”

“ThAt WouLD bE mOst.... Harruumph! Ah, that clears the old throat. Thank you.”

“No worries. So where's Dr. Schematic?”

“In the Mind Transfer seminar. He's debating either possessing a new body or doing the old Brain in a Jar deal.”

“Oh, yuck,”

“I know, it's just sad really. Where's Empress Nefaria?”

“Boss Lady is shmoozing at Know Your Nemesis in the Chesapeake Room. She's got Captain Paragon mind controlled right now and is showing him off.”

“Which explains why you're here. I'm sorry.”

“Don't sweat it. She'll be giving me a salary raise when he breaks free of it and starts trashing the base. Again.”

“Heh. That's what I admire about you, milady. You're always looking ahead.”

“Well somebody has to. What about you? If Schematic does Brain in a Jar you know he's only going to get crankier.”

“I know. I'll be parading nubile hostages in front of him within a year after the regrets kick in.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] avanti_90: “More Shakespearan drama with molecules”
Note: Difficult, but not as bad as [livejournal.com profile] drhoz forcing me to look up science stuff or obscure historical events on Wikipedia.
• * * *

PLUTONIUM: Dearest sister, my heart yearns for thee.

PLUTONIA: As mine to yours, dearest brother.

MAGISTRATE CARBON (inserting himself between them): Plutonium, Plutonia! By order of Prince Lead, your union is unnatural and forbidden!

PLUTONIUM: Away with you, Carbon! Why do you come betwixt us, seeking to cool our ardor? Prince Lead would see us contained, preventing our brightness from illuminating the world!

MAGISTRATE CARBON: Your love would not illuminate, but burn those around you! Step away!

PLUTONIA: Nay, black hearted Carbon! Curses upon you! We shall be together!

PLUTONIA and PLUTONIUM struggle with CARBON. He forces them roughly apart.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] avanti_90: “Sucking out a plant's soul.”

* * *

“Just stay calm. The ship's autofabber is going to manually disassemble the plant from around you.”

“Tell it to hurry, my neck is killing me.”

A blur of nanomachines surrounded her, and the frozen plant rapidly turned to dust, carried away to the ship's lab. She fell back to the floor, her exo-suit finally retracting to her uniform belt.

“Ah.”

“Oh, what now?”

“The good news you're safe. The bad news is that apparently the silica plant was sentient... and... fast.”

“Eh?”

“It's in the shipmind... and it's got control of life support.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Trying to catch up...

For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “Happily Ever After.”

* * *

“Son, think this through,” the King begged. “She's a commoner.”

“She's a beautiful commoner,” the Prince countered. “Beautiful enough to have the Witch of the Mills steal her face.”

“Granted, but she's still a commoner. She's going to have to bear an heir.”

“If you're going to make me argue for her hip size, I'm moving out. Look, she's clever, quick of tongue, and I love her. That's enough.”

“Yes, but any child she bears will not be of noble blood.”

You married a tree.”

“She was a dryad. Don't change the subject.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “This plant is going to strangle me.”

* * *

He plucked at the plant gingerly, leaving bits of nanosteel glove stuck as he pulled back. Which should not be possible. “Okay, just stay calm.”

“You stay calm,” his partner said. The plant had her bound into a tight ball, her helmet forced back as three vines wove around her throat. “I'm gonna panic.”

“Look, it can't penetrate your suit.”

“But it can... crush it.” she wheezed.

He pulled a nanocrystal from his pocket, chucking it. Quicksilver flowed over the vines, freezing the creature in place. “There, it's sealed permanently.”

“So am I.”

“Oh, dear.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “Rabbits”

* * *

He looked at the rabbit roasting on the spit over the fire. “Somehow this doesn't seem like Thanksgiving.”

“Well there are a certain lack of wild turkeys in the Australian outback.”

“Or cranberries.”

“Very true.”

“Mashed potatoes?”

“We've got desert yams.”

“Not quite the same thing.”

“Stuffing?”

There was a distant crumpscreeee. They turned in that direction, to see the moon rising over the mesa.

“I think stuffing is be avoided.”

“Especially if it turns out to be us?”

“Exactly.”

Thanksgiving dinner turned out to be a short affair that year.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “What was that noise?”

* * *

“What noise?”

Crumpscrreeeeeeee.

That noise!”

“Uh, let me check the manual, sir.” Flip, flip. “Would you say that's more the sound of two massive objects colliding followed up by tearing metal, or the thump of giant wings followed by the scream of a dread predator?”

“More of a distant boom along with a subsonic wave of induced terror.”

“Okay, that sounds like your basic dimensional tear. Tell me, sir, do you have any megaliths or ancient pyramids nearby?”

“Er, there are the Dread Stones of Blood down the road.”

“Well there's your problem...”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “Peanuts”

Note: I may have to get I've been gifted a paid LJ account thanks to [livejournal.com profile] allah_sulu, just to have an excuse to commission a Dragon Mom icon.

* * *

“Are you all right?” the dragon asked.

“I'm all right,” Miriam answered absently. “So I'm actually a princess?”

“Kidnapped by fairies, evil step-parents, left as a sacrifice by a dragon. You've definitely got all of the qualifications.”

“I don't feel like a princess.”

“Well I don't feel like a mother most days, but here I am.”

At the bottom of the hill, the knight and the barbarian had finished their argument, and were drawing weapons.

“Ah, good.” The dragon plopped a paper bag into Miriam's hand.

“What's this?”

“Tradition when spectating. Enjoy.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Aaaaaand we're back.

For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “Dragons”

* * *

“I'm sorry, I don't believe in dragons,” he said to the hundred foot long, winged and scaled creature in front of him.

She blinked at him. “Why not?”

“Where I come from, they're myths. Fairy stories to show the triumph of good over evil. Look, your wings are too short and your body is too heavy to even fly. You can't possibly exist in the real world.”

“So that makes me...?”

“A dream, a special effect, a drug induced hallucination. I don't believe in you.”

“Well,” she said, “perhaps I don't believe in you either.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
are called off on account of Stuff. specifically a Project From Hell at work and lots of Ogre pieces at home that need to punched out.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] mmegaera: “The Supernatural”

* * *

He looked over the waist high grass of the plains. In the distance he could see water buffalo drinking at a waterhole near a stand of trees, watched over by a pair of lions sitting on a nearby rock. “This is your idea of a farm?” he asked.

“No, a gathering site,” the not-a-farmer said. “Look, every day we're bombarded by more and more genetically modded fruits and vegetables, and farm animals stuffed with hormones and anti-biotics. Our only choice is go back to hunting and gathering! It'll be more than natural, it'll be...”

“Don't even say it.”

* * *

Puns, we does them.
jeriendhal: (For Your Safety)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “Cleaning House”

Hadn't meant this to be a continuation of Break Off but that's the way it worked out.

* * *

“So, we're screwed,” the Prime Minister said.

“Not 'screwed', faced with a difficulty.” The Groupmind's representative morph looked at the vid image of the building the corrupted morphs were occupying. “A software fix is being investigated to prevent a repeat of this incident. Meanwhile, you have Our gratitude for evacuating the surviving humans.”

“You owe us, don't forget it. In the meantime, what are you going to do with all of those killer morphs?”

“We are taking care of it.”

There was a flash of light from the Roof, lancing through the building as it exploded.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
...is called on account of a complete mental block. I keep looking at today's prompt and coming up blank.
jeriendhal: (For Your Safety)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “Acceptable losses”

• * * *
WARNING: Extreme system damage. Recommend retreat to repair depot.

It ignored the system warning. Its goal was in sight, the barricade of logs and sheet metal erected only ten meters away.

A shot struck its torso, entering its already damaged battery system. Power would cease shortly, but it was so close to its goal now...

Retreat immediately!

It climbed the wall, steel claws digging in for purchase. At the top a rifle butt smashed its left visual sensor, it grabbed it, tearing out of the defender’s hands, tossing it away.

“We’re here to help you,” it said.

Zero power.

SHUTDOWN.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “Hazard Pay.”

* * *

“So what's down there anyway?”

“Albino alligators, fluke men, dog sized rats.”

“Seriously now.”

“I am serious. Oh, and it's High Summer, and everything is fermenting.”

“And we're going down there because...?”

“We're getting paid an extra two Crowns an hour.”

“That... doesn't seem worth it. Most of my jobs don't require a backup holding a scatter gonne.”

“You will also have Her Radiancy's eternal gratitude.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. In a town of eight million people, they really need to be able to flush the toilets.”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “This was not in the job description.”

* * *

“Right. We're going to have to have a chat with the Fairy of the Old Tree,” the dragon mother said. “Miriam, would you please take the baby from my idiot son?”

The baby, which had been giggling as her son bounced it carefully in his hand, meeped as the son stopped and lowered it towards Miriam.

“Wait, why do I have to take care of him?” she demanded.

“Because we must have A Talk with the fairy. Which may involve flames. If any mighty thewed warriors show up, make sure they have a wet nurse with them.”
jeriendhal: (For Your Safety)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “Where'd I put my keys?”

Urge... to commit kink... rising...


* * *

She looked up at the... race car? Road train? Race train? “That's... insane.”

“It'll be perfect. Ten independent driver wheels in the control tractor, powered by a 20,000kwh hydrogen generator with 40 kw's worth of solar panels on the roof of the tractor and four fuel trailers. Optimum fuel efficient speed is about 120 kph, which will keep you going for almost a week.

She whistled. “We'll win for sure! Gimmee the ignition card and let me crank her up.”

His expression went blank for a moment. “Ignition card?”

“You did install the starter system, right?”

“Um...”
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
For [livejournal.com profile] colliemommie: “Mutually assured destruction”

* * *

A look of horror settled on the mother's face as her son shuffled from his hiding place, the human baby balanced carefully in his left hand.

“Son, what did you do?

“It's not my fault,” her son pleaded. “I went to the Old Tree in the forest to take a nap, and the fairy there gave it to me for safekeeping.”

“The Old Tree. In the Old Forest. The one I told you never to go near.

“Er, yes?”

The mother thumped her forehead against the wall, making the cave shake and the baby let out another cry of distress. “Oh, son.”

“I couldn't just leave her!”

“It's a human baby, kidnapped by fairies and given to a dragon to hold,” his mother growled. “Didn't you ever LISTEN to all those stories I told you?”

“It's not that bad,” her son pleaded. “I'll take care of her!”

“We are going to have Heroes coming to rescue this child! Not the short clever ones, but the ones with mighty thews and axes! And you're going to have to fight them! Then I'm going to have to fight them when they cut you down!

October 2024

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