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The Mere Tide

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  #91  
Old 02-26-2017, 07:18 PM
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Here's some. Or one, anyway. Wait... here's another. There's one over there. Do they make what I'm saying any clearer?

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  #92  
Old 02-26-2017, 10:50 PM
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Originally Posted by bluewpc View Post
And its happened I finally published me novel. Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?


https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06VTNG1TH...ngs+fall+apart

Well congratulations on that.
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Old 02-26-2017, 10:54 PM
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Originally Posted by moonpunter View Post
Is there a reason apostrophes don't show up?

They intend to but drop out and become nothing more than commas in the past?
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  #94  
Old 02-27-2017, 08:02 AM
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@brian all in good time...all in good time.

@moon Its an aesthetics thing. Apostrophes make the page look ugly. I mean apostrophes are fine for showing possession and when a contraction would become another word (say she had contracting to shed) but for the most part I think theyre unnecessary.

@pierce thanks kindly
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  #95  
Old 02-27-2017, 08:24 AM
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Originally Posted by bluewpc View Post
@brian all in good time...all in good time.

@moon Its an aesthetics thing. Apostrophes make the page look ugly. I mean apostrophes are fine for showing possession and when a contraction would become another word (say she had contracting to shed) but for the most part I think theyre unnecessary.

@pierce thanks kindly
Basic grammar is always necessary.
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  #96  
Old 02-27-2017, 12:20 PM
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Originally Posted by moonpunter View Post
Basic grammar is always necessary.


Tell that to James Joyce.
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Old 02-27-2017, 12:49 PM
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Originally Posted by brianpatrick View Post
Tell that to James Joyce.
No one here is James Joyce.
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  #98  
Old 02-27-2017, 12:52 PM
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Originally Posted by moonpunter View Post
No one here is James Joyce.
But there is an alcoholic XD
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Old 02-27-2017, 02:22 PM
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Originally Posted by bluewpc View Post
But there is an alcoholic XD


Several
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  #100  
Old 02-27-2017, 07:41 PM
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Note: don't usually post revisions but I really didnt like that first post especially in the hunting scenes so heres a newer version.

In January she turned nine. She did not know. She never knew. It snowed. What little water was left in the stream contracted into shelves of ice men quarried with picks. A deputation turned out to drill a well. They hosted the siblings every Thursday and they served beef dumplings and noodles and the brothers fawned over their sister who conducted herself honorably and with perfection.

The mother did not visit until the last of the month. She trotted them out to loom a sweater but Dachni was gone, drawn to the quiet saddling up of a party of mounted falconeers.

Hey, she said.

The big man she addressed wore his mustache widely and his arm was cocked out as a perch for a hooded eagle.

Здравствуйте.

What is yalls?

Hunter.

Dachni grinned toothily and made a checking noise with her tongue. Saddle an extra then, thisses gidda nuff ta that.

Жоқ No go with. Go to woman.

Fuck the no. Youre missin on a guaranteed kill. Two at the least.

He tapped the tree of his saddle.

Thinkle your bees.

Holnifa shifted to her side and took her by the arm. Go us to ана. Ok?

Dachni threw an arm around her friend's shoulders and pressed her forward. Shoot ye come too. She looked up at the man. How much would ye bet first whatever gets downed by this rifle.

Не?

Bet. Money. Деньги.

She fished in her clothes and came up with a silver bezant. Whats yer say?

The falconer consulted with his fellows.

Now the shadow of the mother was fallen on them. Come to sew. I teach you.

Aint no seammess.

Come.

Fuck off. What does yall say?

None said but one and he said why not. A horse was saddled and adjusted to her diminutive stature and they watched her mount and watched her strap a scabbard to the pommel and sheathe the nagant in it.

Is ye comin?

Holnifa withered under the hunter's attentions, her mother's. She took Dachni's offered hand. Dachni grinned and pulled her up. At this the mother began to squawk.

Quet hawlerin, said Dachni. Shell get back in piece.

They rode south a half dozen riders fanned abreast, the falconers resting their arms on their baldaks and the eagles jessed like avatars of immaned justice. Theyd not ridden an hour before a hare presented itself. Squatting alert among tufts of repens. The foremost of the riders unhooded his eagle and launched it with a thrust of the arm. It soared in a wordless grace. A silent liquidity that seemed to disturb not at all its marbled primaries. The hare snapped instantly across that open terrain in rapid jackhammer slaps that veered it in rocket like hyper gaga and the eagle rose on the updraft and cut in. The hare lunged to clear out from under that narrowing shadow but the eagle loomed talons first and in their dire clutch it spasmed and died.

Two more such quarries were caught in identical manner and a mature ibex brought down with a volley of eagles. Mutant eagles bred almost two stones. The first dropped between the enormous horns like fossilized pythons sprouting out of its skull and tore it to the ground. The hind legs kicked out. The second swooped in a heartbeat after, its wings folded to clear alike the chin of the beast and the ground, and ripped low across its tan beard and it fell upon its side. The beast shook its head to clear the airspace about its head but the first eagle roosted on the ribbed inside of a horn and ducked under the other and tore at the jugular. Then passed back the second eagle. The ibex stumbled up and its head twisted obscenely and the horns were resting now on the ground like bike racks.

Last of all they killed a wolf.

They had mounted a shale outcropping overlooking a featureless stretch of dala and it moved forlorn some many hundred yards away and below like something umbeschewed of other hunters.

Dachni spat. That son of a bitch isnt no bother to a buddy.
The eagles all four were deployed. Their pendant shadows heralding their flighted casters even unto the bristling of their remicles upon that mured ground of takir and grass and as they kept even within that sun their honing frieze seemed to shimmer in the heat like a mirage in clairvoyance as if they were happenings in the sun. Too late the wolf saw them. The eagles had divided perhaps in some instinct vestigial to raptors and the first pair shot in from the right and dragged the wolf down by the nape. It twired on the ground snapping blindly and the birds flapped clear and dropped back down. The other pair raked across its upturned belly and their wake of dust rushed over it like a tide. A blur of feathers and fur rolled in piteous yelping and now a fine spray of blood. The eagles retreated to safety and walked the grounds while the wolf blind and jetting blood, coughing blood, stumbled in a rigmarole thigmotaxis that conveyed it weirdly across the steppe at the speed of a trot before it crashed again to the ground where to suffer a death of drowning.

The hunters whooped and surged forth. At the kill the riders fell from their mounts and rabated their familiars with morsels of elk.

When Dachni rode up she could see that it was the butchered thing met with priorly on the plain. Lobos at thy ignominious death what luck had you whom could claim even this end preferable? Or would it taint whatever came next. The hunters were inspecting the wolf but they perceived nothing salvageable. The child would have it and tied it to the horse behind the saddle. The horse shied at this scent but she would clout it into submission and pull at its ears.

Riding back Dachni spied two long channels of bent grass leading off to the north.

Theys a horse, she said.

She roweled her horse into a gallop. Cries faded behind her. Holnifa clung to her waist yelling жоқжоқжоқжоқжоқ. But she did not stop and the hunters fell in and they followed the trail nine miles.

Their shadows were long to their rights when she caught the riders up. Two who turned to see what followed, the falconeers declaring their amity in the same moment Dachni fired. The riders were almost three hundred yards away and one of them simply slid out of the saddle. A second shot rang out and the other rider as he was turning his horse clasped his neck. He sat his horse. Then he slumped forward and listed to the ground.

Neither man was dead. One lay bubbling a pink froth out the hole in his chest. The bullet had laddered up his spine and exited out the back of his neck. The other kept trying to sit up and gulping blood out the ragged perforations his fragmented teeth had torn in his throat. She stripped them alive and then she bound them in randem arms to feet to cantle. The hunters watched impassively and they rode on and by and by the men died.

She headed the little column smartly into the ail. Some gathered to see. Then more. Dachni dismounted and helped her friend down in a gesture of chivalry and stood proudly over her kills.

Musa pushed through the crowd.

What have you done?

They shot first, said Dachni. See this rifle? Its suppresser's built in. Never knowed they was shootin till a pouch of dirt pop up. Dont know whyd he was. He might notta even knowed what he were shootin at.

She held the rifle up for Musa to examine but when he reached to take it she pulled it away.

Sees it just ya grubby butt.

Musa looked at the dead men. He looked at the hunters but they were seeing about their eagles.

Dachni leaned on her rifle. They aint important in this world, she said. Ye might think they is but they esnt.

He looked at her.

Ifn was important wouldnt be dead.
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  #101  
Old 03-05-2017, 09:08 PM
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Big update today so no update for a while.



They dragged the corpses to a tent of an abattoir and hefted them up onto a bench table and Dachni cut away a face from one of the men and imposed it upside unright over her features and tongue taunted her friend through an eyeslit.

Holnifa was horrified. Сіз қорқынышты болып табылатын жатырмыз.

Dachni laughing. Laugh fading. Jess a joke, she said.

Бұл қорқынышты ғой.

Its alright.

She placed a fat barrel under the edge of the table and positioned the man for decapitation. Raising the knife she was given pause by an unaccountable scent of the antiseptic. Synaethesia. Then it was gone. She tested the air again to find it missing then bid Holnifa do the same but she detected nothing. She looked about. She raised the knife and brought it down. The head rolled. Cold black blood gushed as if from out of deflating drainpipes. She picked the head up and placed it on the table then pressed her hands on the sternum to pump out the bile on which the man had asphyxiated. When his lungs were empty she opened him up in an adroit running of the knife from clavicle to pubic bones, the organs bulging out in the wake of the blade. She peeled back the skin, cutting translucent webs of fascia as she did. The torsal cavity exposed she began to rummage through the midriff, ripping free liver, pancreas, the stomach the gall bladder. Heaps of intestines. All flung over the shoulder to the floor. She reached under the ribcage and pulled out the lungs and heart and the long ribbons of esophagus and trachea. She paused to satisfy an itch behind her ear and bent again to her work. An hour later blood splattered, sashed in skins, wearing as hat two gutted torsos dragging behind a barrel of blood and carrying a double armload of limbs she emerged moving towards the drum grills at the center of the ail where the general cooking of the tuqim was done and Holnifa following holding the heads at arms' length by the hair like slutlamps.

The bed of the grill was littered with bleach white fuel tables that would burn a month and Dachni opened the air inlets and zapped them with an electric lighted tied to the grill handle and there was a subtle fwoosh and no flame.

They drank whiskey. Holnifa in such a daze her hands need be closed round the jar and tipped up to her lips.

When the meat was no more than rare Dachni flipped the torsos and let the backsides cook another five minutes and then fetched them out. She shore the ribs from the spine and gave a slab to Holnifa and commenced to tear the flesh from the bones.

Holnifa stared straight ahead.

Go on, said Dachni. Is good.

She shook her head.

Caint try ifn ye dont like.

She shook her head harder.

Dachni cleaned the last of a bone, a strip of meat like a seared and succulent slug, and ate it, and stood the bone at an angle and stomped it. It split in tow and she sucked out the marrow.

Ye does an therell be somethin in it fer ye.

Жоқ. Мен кешірім сұраймын. Жоқ.

Dachni raked a greasy hand through her hair. Gosta try.
Holnifa studied the ribs that not five hours ago had shielded the heart of a man. Perhaps one to have become a woman. She could not bear to witness herself commit the act. She pailed a fat rich strip from the rib and placed it in her mouth like some grisly sacrament. It was far from her tastes. She chewed as if in pain. She spit it out.

Was wrong?

Holnifa didnt say.

Wasnt tryin ta rile ye.

Holnifa said: Менің барғым керек.

Dachni was kneeling. Her face masked in blood and powdered with dust. She wiped her mouth. Барғым? she said.

Holnifa nodded. She stood. She returned the slab to Dachni.

Dont rush off.

Менің барғым керек.

She reached to stay her. Keep here. Done stayed for ye once. Jess stay.

Holnifa held the hem of her shirt.

She took her hand. Jess set down. Ye aint go ta eat. It was for ye but ye doesnt hafta.

Holnifa sat.

She didnt know quite now how nor what it was she didnt know. She ate in silence until she asked if she wanted some whiskey.

Yes whiskey.

Passing the mother's yurt the mother's arm snatched away her child. The heads clattered to the ground. Holnifa wept. Long and loud and inconsolable. The mother withdrew into her yurt and Dachni dropped the guts and followed.

Inside the mother stood her off.

What have you done to her?

Dennit mutch of nothin. She jessin started cryin aint no cause of why.

Monster. Bastard. Get out. Get out.

Dachni tugged at Holnifa's foot.

Whats wrong? she said. Holfie.

The mother shoved her away. Get out.

Faces peeked out from behind the curtains and she dared them away with her eyes. She spoke. Holnifa had buried her face in her mother's breast but at the voice of her friend she turned her rue streaked horror.

Hasses ta say whats wrong.

The mother backed away to the table and got a knife.

Go away. Go away now. I will not tell again.

Thass not on you ta say. She stepped forward and reached up and took Holnifa's hand, true pleading in that touch. The mother would not relinquish her child. She tried to stab Dachni in the face but Dachni dodged it and brandished her pistol. She hadnt taken her eyes from her friend.

What does ye say? Hey.

Let go of her.

Holnifa sobbed harder.

Dachni threw an arm around her legs. Its ok. Will ye let go. She slapped at the mother's hand. Let fuckin go.

The mother would have kicked her off but in that slack of grip Holnifa turned to embrace Dachni. The mother almost dropped her. She looked down in disgust where they gathered into each others arms. Holnifa was sobbing into Dachni's shoulder who held her close and backed slowly to the door.

It was a long hour before she could stop her crying. Hugged together under the blankets brushing her hair or humming and watching for the dam to come. When she finally calmed she went outside and staked the heads for wards and nailed the organs above their door and draped intestines round them so that a portal was formed.
She went back inside.


Tomorrowll be better, she said slipping in against her. Maybe dont seen sech but it will.

Барлығы ның қорқынышты. Мен қолымды қайтып келеді. Ал менің достарым қайтып келеді Мен өлгім келеді.

Dachni nibbled her ear and licked the back of her throat like a cat until the girl managed an unhappy giggle through her tears.

Itll be ok. Promisepromisepromise. Ok? Ye can still cry but itll be better tomorrow. Promise yell see.

But emerging out the hovel in the morning she was confronted with the larger half of the tuqim. They were arrayed on the far side of the stream partly obscured in the fog. A rock sailed out and struck her in the forehead. Her feet went out from under her. She sat blinking. A warmth was spreading through her trousers and when she looked down a foaming yellow puddle was spreading from her. Someone admonished the slinger. She tried to stand but she couldnt quite manage it.

Musa stepped out of the crowd and crossed the dry bed.

You are going to leave.

Dachni held her head. Blood was running all down her face.

Did you hear?

She drew her pistol and pulled the trigger. She wasnt even looking at him. The hammer slammed against the plate but nothing happened. She pulled the slide back and the round ejected but before she could shoot again he took the pistol from her.

You are leaving now.

A commotion had sprung up in the ail. They all turned to see. The shaman was making his way to them throwing open the pens and hazing the animals into the fields and hacking at the yurts and setting them alight. The folk all began to rush back. He was trashing the forge and as the tuqim flew around him he lashed out at them with a knout. Folk went down. Folk screamed. He stormed through the willows and across the bed.

Бұл сіздің алаңдаушылық емес, said Musa.

The shaman grabbed him by his jacket and flung him down.

Gonna kill that son of a bitch, spoke Dachni in an absentminded manner devoid of emotion.

No. No kill, said Holnifa coming out of their den and she wrapped her arms around her and dragged her back inside. The shaman followed a minute after. When he did he stopped outside the entrance and asked permission to come inside. Holnifa said to come in. He had the child's pistol and he returned it to her and she stuck it in her belt. Holnifa had wet her sleeve with whiskey and was disinfecting the wound.

Dachni was trembling with rage. The shaman knelt before her. He placed a thumb either side her injury and wiped the blood away and spread the skin. Dachni glared evilly up at him. The bone showed through at the hairline but it wasnt broke.

Ол OK болады.

He says ok, said Holnifa.

Kill fucking son fuck kill.

The shaman studied the confines. It hadnt changed since his last visit.

What do you want?

He looked at Dachni. He opened his coat and withdrew a long cigarillo and pinched away the flag and offered it to her. She took it and he produced a box of matches and her eyes lit up. Or they seemed to. He struck a match and the flame flared into a twitching life on the bulbous end and he put its tapered apex to the boquilla while she puffed slowly, rotating the cigarillo until the capote glowed red. She took a deep breath and held the smoke in a moment and let it slowly out her nostrils.

Them fuckers is all gonna die. That Musa. His head is goin be on a stick an filled with shit. An ever fuck of son in this place.
The shaman sat crosslegged with his fists resting on the cross of his shins and he simply extended a finger towards Holnifa.

Dachni brushed the ash from the cigarillo and offered it to her but she declined. She looked at the smoking end a second and then she looked up at the shaman.

Spare a match.

They moved the rugs aside and dug a pit in the center of the floor and filled it with deadwood and dry leaves. Dachni stuck a trio of matches and put them in. In a few minutes it was hot in the room and the smoke was venting out the shanyrak. They watched the fire dance in the pit like old souls. It seemed old. As if the flames were weary of burning. As if these same flames had performed in other pits before other men.

After a while Dachni said: Caint stay here.

Holnifa leaned close for a second hearing.

Said cant stay. No stay.

No stay?

No.

Holnifa's countenance fell.

The shaman touched Holnifa on the shoulder and spoke to her and then he got up to leave.


They lingered all day. They drank heavily.
Dont go.

She touched the throb of pain in her head. Caint.

When go?

Dont know. It never was planned out.

Go with?

Dachni covered her eyes. No. Ye caint. Ye jess caint. Ye wouldnt wanna be there an there wouldnt be no way to protect ye. Ye'd hate everything. Ye'd hate everyone.

Holnifa began to cry and that sound repented her ever of stopping.
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  #102  
Old 03-06-2017, 03:32 PM
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Gahhh I'm as articulate as a moose with a speech impediment

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWZRekp967g
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Old 03-11-2017, 12:07 PM
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In preparing for a proper rectification of melancholy they squatted, trousers down, pissing in a pail wherein were stuffed the faces of the dead riders. The streams crossed and as the pail filled a vortex formed, foamed at the ridges of its fluted interior.

Thissel treck it aye, said Dachni putting the pail into a fire beside another pail of blood. Aint prefickt but theys nothin prefickt.

She helped Holnifa disrobe. She lifted the bloodpail out of the flames. The blood had formed a bubbling pudding and she broke it up and hand as brush applied to her friend a sanguinolent coat even to her soles. Then she took a head and jammed a heel in its mouth and gripping the front palate stood. The jaws unhinged in a pulpy crack. She flipped the head face up and thumbed out the runny glaze of eyes like fish offal and rooted out the teeth with her bayonet and keyed open the skull at the fontanel using the same and scooped out the brains. In their pan they looked like gray black growths of coral sweating a pink tinged cervical fluid. She sawed off the fronts of the skull at the joinery of the parietal and frontal plates and augured the nasal bone and fed a wire through the holes and out the empty sockets and rendered the same treatment to the second.

All this set aside she took up the wolf head and split it of its mandible. Then she bored the jaws. The teeth. She had requisitioned a set of dyes and she stained the incisors pink, the canines cherry, the molars black with pockets of saved ash and the skulls she did likewise custom color with an aposematic palette. By then the piss was beginning to boil. She lifted the pail from the fire and set it aside to cool. With her knife she carved a motley of protorunes into the skulls, ur words to the catechism of a new faith. She mopped up the bonemeal with a steaming flaccid face and pitched it away like a rag. When she had done she threaded all on a long wire, arranging the skulls that they were spaced to the cardinal points and the teeth distributed equally between them.

There, she said necklacing her friend. Itll right rain.

Holnifa touched it. The skulls rested on her shoulders like pauldrons and the wolf jaws against breast and back.
Dont take it off. Wont work ifn ye dont wear it.

Evil, said Holnifa.

Dachni wiped her tools, her hands on her leggings. So?

Nor were they finished. She overpacked the brains into the doll head Tepya until the plastic bulged and she pierced it with a vector hook and held it into the flames until the hair caught, tongue licking upon the hair tongue and then she marched the child out.

Holnifa in the noon shivering naked. Dachni circled her waving the burning doll head like a censer until the flames melted the line and where it dropped she buried it and they returned to their den.

They rode out of the ail when proper souls are indoors two pilgrims upon country once a seabed where trilobites had scurried in their million across a terrain barren as this latterday scaline aridity with its winter welk of scrub and hardgrasses. The night spread like a shadow of the sleuing earth betwixt glary stars a vast interstitial nociception Dachni subscribed the source of all things numinous and accounted those candent baubles beads on a bracelet worn pon dark's lithe ankle or wrist or leaming shells spliced into an tress. Holnifa small in her outsized ton in awe, off white leather and wispy white wool riffling out collar and front like the stuffing of a doll. They rode along desiccated fence posts across which bowed corded wire as if graves enlinked. Some ruins of clay. Where aluminum roofs were piled and someone asleep beneath the stack. Anonymous birds crossed their sky and once a green comet bleared faitly overhead in fiery dissolution like some celestial pollen sative to stars.

Dachni mused this the start of a long journey but in only a few hours there were lights. They dismounted at the edge of a settlement and led their horses in.

When Malls came to open his diner he found sleeping under his porch two wildlings and he toed them awake. They blinked up at him, fingering rheum from their eyes. He unlocked the door and told them to come in.
He brought hotcakes and coffee. A little later he brought plates of eggs and sausage with a basket of crescents and he pulled a stool up to the head of the booth and though they had already dug in he spoke a grace.
Does ye talk American?

What does it look like? he said.

Well.

Im Christian Im white.

Ok.

What happened to her?

Dachni looked at Holnifa. Unwashed and assumed of the country's sandy hue like a desert thing of grit.

Nothing, said Dachni.

Wherere yall headed? said Malls.

To an Anzel.

Whats an anzel?

Big place. A plane is made of. There all sorts of there.

I think I know the place. I dont think its a place anyone should go. Not least a pair of orphans with only three arms between them.

Dachni stirred her eggs. She broke the yellow nucleus and the yoke spilled out over the glaire. Benned afore. But ye wunnint know a way would ye?

I could find it on a map.

Gotta map, said Dachni reaching for her bags.

Maybe its best I dont.

Maybe best is does.

Well.

Dachni sorted the map out and spread it on the table. Gonna find it of ways or another. Ifn ye tryin ta save trouble ye might as well save that part of it.

I reckon theres some sense in that but on the other hand I might be saving a heckuva lot more in not telling you. Its a stopping place anyways. Its no destination.

Ye git things there.

Get the clap.

The what?

Nothing. You know theres state orphanages opening up. Theyll take in kids like you. I havent seen one myself but I know they funded one down in Heinek and Ive heard good things.

Dont need no orphans.

You dont think it would be nice to be around kids your own age?

No.

Well. Theres plenty of towns would take you in. This town here even. Hey I can use a hand waitressing. It isnt hard and you could learn a skill.

Thankey but noes. Is jobbed.

Whats that?

Jessa job.

What kind of job?

A payin job.

Ok.

It does for shootin people. People bad people.

Youre not a bounty hunter are you?
A what?


Never mind.

Well thankey for the supper.

Its breakfast.

Alright. But show on that map that way.

I cant say you from that way?

Caint. They aint but one what way ye can say.

Last edited by bluewpc; 03-13-2017 at 08:57 PM.. Reason: Added a damn paragraph that in drunkenness i had forgot
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  #104  
Old 03-12-2017, 11:49 AM
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So at this point I will say, reading both novels concurrently, that your skill has improved much with this one. Not to say the other is bad in any way, but this one is clearer, easier to understand. And the map is wider here, more accessible. Maybe it's the nature of the characters so far, alien vs human (ish).
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  #105  
Old 03-13-2017, 05:32 PM
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Well at least I know I'm moving in the right direction
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  #106  
Old 03-19-2017, 07:22 PM
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Longer update than usual so no update for a little while.



He spoke them straight west four hours to a sandy trace running north. Thirty miles later in the late afternoon there was the hostel. Worse for wear and fuming like an enormous delegged centipede. Its panels wrinkled for some cause and flying the flags of nations and curling smoke out its rents as if it were a forge. She boarded the horses and the squaw asked how she liked her fetish and the child said it served.

Holnifa stared up into the empennage but the child pulled her by the ton and led her on the outside towards the cockpit under scaffolding where men welded steel plates to the fuselage. A harvest was being reaped in the fields not by niggers but by androids now laboring with their sterile contempt of elements and organic life. They stopped beneath the cockpit and she gathered rocks and pelted the door. After a dozen throws it opened and the swollen bulk of Anzel leaned out.

Why people? Why do you do this?

Hidy! called Dachni.

You. What the hell are you doing here?

Come to see ye.

For what?

Has ye a ladder let down.

Oh no. You can use the front door like the rest of the crazies.

Let down. Downdown.

What did you want again?

Tell ye ye let the ladder down.

Anzel looked about. Wheres John?

Dachni colored.

Son of a bitch aint here.

Well where is he then?

Not here.

What are you doing here?

Said to see ye. Let down the fuckin ladder.

Anzel muttered something to himself and disappeared. A moment later a rope ladder unraveled out of the door. They climbed up. Near the top he gripped her by an underarm and hefted her inside and boosted her over infant monstrosities in carboys onto a stool.

Is she with you?

Holfies withed.

Holnifa plopped down on the stool beside her. Dachni delivered a flurry of pokes into her side and she squirmed worriedly and slapped at her hands to quit.

Anzel settled heavily into his chair and cranked up a handle and his chair jerked back along its path to the counter and swiveled him forward in a noise like the stuttered changing of gears. The cockpit now full of miniature wax psychologists and doctors and other such professions as encourage mental health.

Well I think you owe me an answer now, said Anzel.

Come to see offa outfit.

For you?

Herred for.

Anzel regarded Holnifa. Who is she?

Shes a friend. Say hi.

Celem.

Whats wrong your gear now?

Aint good enuff.

For what?

Dachni fidgeted, rubbing the heels of her palms fiercly along her jaw.

Ok. An outfit. You have money.

Lettle lee. She needs a new arm.

You wont get that here. Not the arm and not the surgery. You try that here youll come out with a chicken wing and missing two legs. Wheres John?

Saided already that fucker aint here.

Have you seen each other yet?

Dachni spat.

Are you here alone?

She elbowed a side of Holnifa. Shes here.

You are crazy.

Wasnt no problems last time.

Last time you were with an eight foot king and a guarantee from the US government.

Ifn aint arms then guns. Anna saddle. Gotta saddle now but wunnit look nice.

Im not a vendor kid.

Whats that?

I dont sell things. The selling gets done back there and you are not going back there. Not alone anyways. Wheres John?

Aint. Fuckin. Here.

Anzel studied her. How much money do you have?

Prolly enough.

Lets see.

The children turned out their pockets and on the counter there accumulated the bespoken funds. Anzel clanked his seat back and swiveled round and got a bottle from out an instrument case and returned and poured two tumblers full and gave one to the child and drank the other himself.

Hows up for her?

Does she drink?

She does.

Are you sure?

She drinks. Holnifa drink? Whiskey wheskeys?

Yes.

See?

Anzel sorted a third tumbler that was a ten gauge shotgun shell emptied of its steel balls and he filled it and gave it to Holnifa. Then he padded the money with a fat hand heavily.

That would get you a saddle sure and a horse to go with.
Wheres that place for arms?

Youd have to go the grad. Thats the only place with the facilities. And that wont get you started on paying for it.

Well less jess starts on simples. Can go gradwise affer.
Good idea. Johns there now. He can probably help you out.

What?

I said John would help.

Dachni spat. She looked at a stack of calendars on the floor. At a game console. What is it likewise goin for?
What?

Nethermind.

Do you still want to outfit?

Aye.

Anzel tapped at a keyboard. There was a pneumatic hiss just outside the cockpit and an android stepped out of its capsule and came forward to receive orders.

Watch over these two.

Yes sir.

They moved through a bawdy kapelle of chaos befogged by a smoky fenland stink exhaled by a cacophony of mankind and its derivatives. Crap rollers blew on dice custom weighted and the billiards table had been boated in a model galleon goggled druggies in poleless palanquins watched slumped like scions of Gomorrah in perpetual torpor arising atimes in jessant frissons of warbling like the languid death spasms of souls in advanced stages of cachexia. Past the telephone booth bordel with its extended lines of cagey johns gliffing guiltily whilst they stoked their moribund members and one would have smeared the musk of old sweaty nut across Holnifa's face but for the android's intervention. And past cases of fish heads staring in their thousands with jizzy eyes and past an abattoir where flies whirled round hock and gobbet and where a sordid clique gyved in heroin appraised them darkly.

Это ружье моего друга, said the bald headed vor in their lead. Где ты это взял?

The android answered for them and they went on.
At the dealer she rapped on the cage and he looked up from his cleaning.

Remembers members?

I dont know you.

Has some to trade.

What?

Dachni stood the looted weapons on the sill. Whatll these get?

The dealer opened the slot. Let me see. Dachni fed the weapons through and he examined them barrel to stock. They were a TOL-17 gauss rifle, and a PSAV, and a Portral laser pistol. Additionally their various accouterments, bags and bandoleers and ammunition.

Cash or trade?

Trade.

What do you want?

Has ye got no more of thems big broiler shoots?

Ah. I do remember you. I dont.

Anything like it?

Yes. He turned around to retrieve from a floorsafe marked exotica a Praxal MGFG4 energy rifle and handed it through.

Theres no headset for it, he said.

Thass ok.

She handed it to Holnifa. Hows that weight? Жақсы?

Жақсы.

Ight. Take it.

The dealer stocked a vest's pouches with rechargeable energy cells and handed it through the slot with about seven thousand dollars. Enough to buy the best saddle the squaw kept stocked and a trotter and three heavy drafts.

Upon returning to the cockpit Anzel held out a phone.

Its John.

What?

Dachni.

Dachni grabbed her friend and fled. They got their horses and turned them east and rode at full gallop. Rode them almost to laming. A week later they rode into the ail tottering in the saddle. The mother rushed to see about her child but Dachni pulled her away. In bed she pinned Holnifa to the ground and ran her tongue round the inside of her mouth. Holnifa didnt move and she would long recall what happened next even when with the pilot and she swore there was a word for it.

She was gone next evening. Would have been gone earlier if not for sleep. Gone south on foot, bequeathing the horses and the money and the guns to Holnifa, taking for herself only her nagant and a few rations and the whiskey.
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  #107  
Old 03-19-2017, 07:42 PM
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So you don't do quote marks either? Cormac McCarthy does that and it's so irritating to try to read it because it's hard to know when someone is talking and when they're just narrating.
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  #108  
Old 03-20-2017, 04:59 PM
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That Russian script ... man, that is way cool.
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Through the smoke and fog there comes a form ... shape shifting ... could this be the Future?
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  #109  
Old 03-21-2017, 10:02 AM
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I appreciate it but as much it grieves me I think you have to thank the Russians. Shitty fucking animals that they are.
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