Amok Q&A

Well, not a lot in the way of questions, this time around; C’est la vie! But some decent stuff happening nonetheless. First, well, even fewer actual votes for the character poll than I’ve gotten before… Makes me wonder whether I should even bother continuing with them, but considering how low-effort they are and how they still help me get a feeling for the characters people like, I probably will anyway. Ariel got top at 7 votes; Li Fang Fen and Jack Knife got 6 each, and poor Dane only got 2. That leaves Jack Black and Jack and Jill at 1 vote each, with Jackass, Jackfruit, and Jackal at 0 each; Poor bastards. But not exactly surprising.

In more monetary terms, there’s an overwhelming preference for Patreon style things. Here’s the preview link for what I’ve put together.¬†https://patreon.com/preview/034223a0f75f4a4c8c3955bf78b47b7c

Let me break it down

Continue reading “Amok Q&A”

Chapter 23: The Way Home

“Do you think she’s okay?” I whispered softly, glancing back up the stairs. My arms still ached from the bullets. Small marks showed where they had penetrated my shoulders, elbows, and wrists, gumming up my joints and leaving me helpless while I watched the fight. My gun hung from one hand, my purse lost somewhere in the chaos and melee up above.

Continue reading “Chapter 23: The Way Home”

Chapter 22: Journey’s End

Many things describe me and my sisters. I am Air, which can mean Wind, or Storms, or Breath, or Movement, or Freedom, or any of a countless number of other connections humans make between seemingly unrelated topics. They are prone to finding patterns in things. So I am a varied and complex being. But all of that can be boiled down to two things: The good, and the bad. My sisters are the same way. We are composed of the sweet, gentle aspects of the world. Air that nourishes lungs, breezes that cool temples, skies that offer freedom. I am full of so many good, and wonderful things. Love among them, I realized now.

Continue reading “Chapter 22: Journey’s End”

Chapter 20: Battlefield

The door flew open under my heel. I followed my foot in, entering the room at a dead sprint. Three men stood inside, gathered around a desk, looking down at a magazine. Two stood, one sat. As one, they turned towards me. I was prepared for shouts, for them to raise the alarm. Instead, they began to move, approaching me in an unhurried way. The one on the left looked like a dockworker, and he grabbed a pipe from one of the walls, yanking hard, ripping it out of its bearings. The one on the right was in a button-down shirt, drawing a slender .22 caliber pistol from his belt. The one standing up was a young man, barely out of his teens, a scraggly mustache on his face, lifting his hands into an amateurish boxing position.

Continue reading “Chapter 20: Battlefield”

Chapter 19: Only Way In

I studied the map for the third time, my eyes running across it, trying as best as I could to focus. New York City’s reservoir system was one of the largest in the world, and covered an area several times that of the city itself. Consisting of several reservoirs and aqueduct systems to the north and west of the city, some of the most massive infrastructure projects in the world had been driven by the need to keep New Yorkers from dying of dehydration. There were comparatively few places that it could be accessed. The Jacqueline Onassus reservoir in Central Park was no longer giving anyone water. The same was true of the Jerome Park Reservoir. The closest was Hillview Reservoir in the far Bronx, but there were over a dozen other access points that might be involved, and no way to tell which had been chosen.

Continue reading “Chapter 19: Only Way In”