Pirate Colours

This is the last of the lead-up to the short battle sequence. Short, you ask? On the first hand, I’m not very good at them. On the second hand, this is a raw MS so there is plenty of time to make changes before I put this under the nose of my copyeditor. On the gripping hand, recall that this part is through Jimmy Burns’ eyes. So, a human with little or no tactical experience is about to observe a genetically modified woman stab some stimulant into herself and move faster than his eyes can track. Thus, I can only write the parts where Aurie pauses for a split second to kill someone close up.

What does she inject into herself? Next time, friends, next time.

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A Colour Out of Space

Completed my research after a few hours of DayJob on Saturday (hey, that wine won’t pay for itself) and made notes. Following Mass the next morning, I set about things. Nearly 2200 words. Made several mistakes as I was typing and thought of how I could clean up the aftermath a bit better. I’ll work on that right after this.

This is likely the last conversation Jimmy has with Aurie Hardt.

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Breakfast Colours

Because it was my day off, I thought yesterday was Friday. Lucky for y’all: here’s one more installment. Everyone wakes up and gets ready for their field trip to the base.

I did begin making some notes for the next big scene. Something has me puzzled: where will the pirates be from? I find the shores of Western Europe impossible to the stone-age barbarians who were invited in. Greenland or Iceland? Civilized but much reduced. My only guess right now is either some group of peoples from Labrador whose homes are now under the ice or perhaps raiders who have a secret base around Long Island? I guess we’ll let Sgt. Alvis explain it next week.

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Colour Wheel

This part two of two of this R-rated scene, so avert your eyes if you must. Going into another weekend, these three will be driving the few miles south to the Nova Scotia spaceport, where some really bad things happen. Bad enough that I’ll be doing some research (following on yesterday’s post about PCP v epinephrine) and seeing in my mind’s eye what a jacked up demi like Princess Aurelia can do without breaking all her bones or blowing up her heart. This is not some Marvel comic; my universe has rules.

Someday, when Mister Burns finds out what Aurie is, I wonder if he’ll be pissed about her ability to read him so easily?

For those regular readers who are interested, I’m being hosted over at Founding Questions to do a series about Creative Writing and Self-publishing over the next few weeks. I am grateful for the opportunity.

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Colour’s Dirty Friend

This is certainly R-rated for any of your sensitive types out there. If that’s a problem, skip this and the next for cat pics on Facebook. If not, I think that if Jimmy were thinking with his upper head a little better (and I turn that into a joke tomorrow), he’d notice that, once again, Aurie is effectively reading his mind. Of course, troll a hottie like her across the field of view of a 27-year-old, it’s going to be pretty obvious what’s on their mind.

Looking a few installments ahead, I brought productive work at DayJob pharmacy to a halt today when asking both pharmacists, “what the best drug to turn a demi-human into a temporary super-soldier without killing them?” They settled on either PCP or high-dose epinephrine. I’ve given them 48 hours to pick one or the other.

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Fast Colours

What’s the old quote? “Well, that escalated quickly.” I really didn’t expect Aurie to come on so strong.

Per what I said yesterday, we shift perspectives here. Mech tech Jimmy Burns of Nova Scotia Rocketry is now the “main character” for a while. And if you missed the foreshadowing in this segment, you should be beaten with a stick.

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Colour of the Future

My pause to think over the weekends is working. After this segment, below, there will be a chapter break in the published book. I will then change perspective. That is, we will not have Aurie as the main character (MC) for a little bit. Instead, we’ll have Jimmy Burns; we shall see the world, and Aurie, through his eyes. I did something similar in “Empress’ Crusade,” where for three chapters the MC became President John Dysart of the Gulf Shore States, rather than Empress Faustina. It’s a fun exercise for me and I think it allows the reader a totally new view of the world. Whenever Aurelia is finished in Nova Scotia, the MC shall again be her.

Aside: had a DayJob colleague read my short story “Cadets,” today. She was going on about “what a bitch that Faustina is!” I laughed. “Wait until you meet Reina.”

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Flustered Colour

Getting a little used to taking things slower over the weekend. The guys at the other table in Val’s, as you’ll read below, are significant to the story and I need to understand them.

Anyone who thinks post-menopausal women are not very interested in sex does not know any post-menopausal women. I’m the first to admit my sex life in my 50s is 10x better than in my 30s. I think it’s just a matter that Colour has been alone so long, she doesn’t even recognize her own feelings.

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Ice Colour

So, who wants to see Aurie in the nude?

Well, you’re not going to here. This is a written story, not ecchi manga, you pervs.

I know that the Thinking Machines do not plan, certainly not in our sense, as they think too fast; while we open the fridge to wonder about dinner they’ve completed a schedule to terraform Mars. I think there is something a little similar with demi-humans. Not speed… just some difference I do not fully get, yet. I’ve seen a little of that with Faustina both in combat and with her sons. So when Aurie nonchalantly says, “I’m hoping to get laid,” it is apparent she’s given this some thought.

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White Colour

Wrist is still hurting and likely will for at least another week. Lovely. At least I can type with the brace off.

Here we get a glimpse into the imperium’s ethnic policies after Colour makes the mistake of thinking the world before the Change still exists. Diversity is no one’s strength. And then Aurie says yet another startling thing.

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