I Know What I Like

This month’s story is a tale of theft, value, and fallen angels! I was more than a little inspired by Persona 5 and the fine art of the in-media-res in writing it. Chapter 1 follows, and the full 4 chapter novella is available at my patreon, here! https://www.patreon.com/user?u=5359808

I’m working on Chapter 13 of Skin Hunger, and my current job finally- after four goddamn MONTHS- finished. There’s some other stuff going on in my life at the moment but I’m hoping to have Skin Hunger starting posting soon, and I apologize for the delays!

Chapter 1: Interrogation

There is an art to a proper beating. Damaging enough to hurt, not so damaging that it kills the victim. The parade of padded knuckles and body blows that can leave a victim brutalized without giving a hint of how badly they’ve been beaten. The nose unbroken, the body free of bruises, the skin not contused. The art of the abusive husband. The art of the secret bully. The art of the police officer. The sequence practiced by those who must maintain an image of moral fortitude, in spite of all their deeds. If a martial art was named for that which inspired it, then surely this panoply of beatings and soul-breaking torment would be called the Upright Constable Style.

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Snakes In Their Lane

This month’s commission is courtesy of Kalik Long, who wanted to see something about Jormungandr, or something involving Horace, Betty, and Li Xue Zi; I ended up compromising, as you might guess from the title! This commission goes out to all the great friends and fans who have been supporting my Patreon, and because of their generosity, comes to you free! I’ll be posting it in two parts; one today, one on this coming Tuesday! I’m nearly halfway finished with Skin Hunger, so hopefully I’ll be having it started out in not too long.

While Betty has been busy in Paradise, Horace has had his own adventures- But where has Li Xue Zi been through everything, and what happened to Jormungandr after she took the meteor head-on?

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Little Myth: Seventeen Syllables

There are countless stereotypes in the world. A stereotype, after all, is just a very simple story, and people need stories to explain the world to their simple and straightforward brains. A stereotype is a kind of shorthand for experience, something simple and easy to keep track of. They’re a tool, neither inherently good nor bad. I have now met some tools which make me question whether a tool can be wholly innocent of their actions. But that can wait.

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Bad Days

Today is the worst day of Pearl’s life. As an immortal embodiment of fire, as one of the four Sisters who stand between this world and the apocalypse wrought by humanity’s own suicidal urges, and as a being who has spent an unquantifiable amount of time in Tartarus, one of the few places that can be called Hell, this is really saying something. But she’s still justified in saying it.

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