I’m not sure if Marcelene ever got around to talking about her idea, as our conversation meandered wildly until I simply fell asleep in the chair. I didn’t mind. She was easy to talk to. What was hard was getting awakened with the dawn to attend yet another conference on our dwindling supplies just before breakfast. That meant we were still discussing the possibility of people starving when the food arrived. It really made it difficult to eat, even though the discussion was still in the theoretical. I forced myself to finish the meal, then took up my usual place on the palace wall overlooking the approach. It wasn’t that I wanted to watch the winding road from the city, but that same spot had a good view of the outer walls and Kirchner’s encampments. I watched the Atlorians hoisting the arm onto the first of the trebuchets. The counterweight hadn’t been installed yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the weapon was operational.
I surveyed the ring of fortifications around us again, hoping for some inspiration. However crudely assembled, they were more than enough to make a sortie a desperate act, and anything of importance to Kircher’s army was even more heavily defended. With just the three gates, they knew exactly where we would be coming from. That didn’t leave a whole lot of room for tactical maneuver.
“Is Kirchner getting even more reinforcements?” Lenz’s voice sounded numb, his question asked more monotonically than in dread. He looked as hollow as he sounded, staring off to the northeast. Cursing my own eyesight, I squinted off to the northeast. There was another palisade off on the hill.
“If he’s eager to take Salzheim by storm, he’s going to want as many bodies as he can get. Breaking in is just as hard as breaking out.”
We were not the only ones to spy the new encampment, as there was a buzz of activity both within the city and without. Roland, Birke, and Straub had no difficulty locating me. They were trailed by a gaggle of aides as they ascended to the spot on the wall where Lenz and I stood.
“I suspect we need to revise our plans,” I said. “How many soldiers do you think an encampment of that size can hold?”
“That’s a full army of ten or twelve thousand,” Straub said, “Assuming they aren’t building to be deceptive.”
“And we have three thousand, plus the city militia,” I sighed.
“That’s still an additional forty-five hundred,” Roland added.
“Forty-five hundred ill-equipped and undertrained shopkeepers,” Birke said.
“It may be time to ask Kirchner for terms,” I said.
“I can’t let you do that,” Straub said.
I turned to look at the Grandmaster.
“He can’t afford to leave you alive. Surrendering this city means your execution. He will not let you withdraw, either alone or with an army.”
“So I should instead demand that the people be slaughtered to delay the inevitable?” I asked.
“At least give Lady Marcelene a chance to take down the barrier,” Roland said. “There are still ships in the harbor. We can evacuate those least likely to receive leniency.”
“She has until those trebuchets are ready to fire,” I said.
“If we have that long,” Birke said. He was looking towards the new camp, and it took me a while to see what he was talking about. At this distance, I could barely make out the columns of soldiers and horsemen until they had snaked some distance out from the camp.
“Does it look like they’re forming a line of battle to anyone else?” Lenz asked, still somewhat disconnected. It did to me. Three squadrons of cavalry were forming up behind regimented squares of infantry facing the city.
“We need to get ready for battle,” Straub said. “Put all of our men on alert and don our own panoplies.”
“We might as well,” I said, unenthusiastically. “We should prepare our forces. Divide the men at arms among the gates and hold the militia in reserve. Keep the archers in their current disposition along the walls. I’m going to relocate to the north gate once I’m ready. Straub, take the east. Birke, the west.”
“And where shall I be?” Roland asked.
“With me,” I said.
My attempt to turn and descend the stairs was hampered by the crowd that had followed the others to the wall. They eventually cleared enough of a path that I was able to withdraw to an arming chamber.
***
Graymire’s iron shoes sparked as he pawed the setts. He didn’t like being tied to a post when dressed for war. Still, the stairs were not built to bring horses on to the wall, so I had to leave him at street level. From the city walls, it felt like I could spit on Kirchner’s camp, it was so close. But they’d built just outside of bowshot, leaving a gap between the sets of fortifications where either side could rain missiles down on anyone foolish enough to enter there. The only shelter visible was the roof of a covered ram that had been abandoned in the space after the first assault. It was still serviceable, but no one had thought to move it during the confusion. Letting my gaze move up to the palisade opposite, I once again spotted Stal Feyblooded. His face lacked the smug superiority I’d come to associate with it. It was a foreboding that shifted to dread as soon as he realized he had my attention. With what looked like muttered excuses to his underlings, Feyblooded disappeared from view.
“That traitor is a slippery one,” Lenz muttered. “I thought he was inside the city.”
“There was enough confusion for him to have gotten out.” I looked past the palisades of Kirchner’s camp with fresh confusion.
“At least it gives me the chance to kill him.”
I turned to Lenz. “What?”
“If not for his betrayal, my father wouldn’t be on his deathbed.”
With the clatter of steel, I put a hand on Lenz’s shoulder and turned him to face me. Seeing the pain and anger boiling together in his eyes, I pulled off my own helmet. The words I wanted escaped me, but he seemed to understand, and stood up straighter.
“I’m still going to try to get him.”
“Don’t be reckless.”
Lenz laughed. “Look who’s talking.”
“Tell me, who are the new arrivals?” Soren asked.
“No idea,” I said.
“Because it looks an awful lot like Kirchner is marching out to give battle.”
Soren was right. Troops siphoned off of the entire length of the circumvallation were forming up opposite the marching formation. I squinted, but distance was not kind to my eyes.
“Can anyone tell what banners they’re flying?” The first banner I could make out belonged to a cohort of infantry. It was green, with a tree on it. Familiarity tickled my mind, but I couldn’t be sure what coiled about its base. As they marched forward, I was able to see more. The second banner I discerned was unmistakable. It was black with a rearing goat in silver. The third was a raindrop in silver radiating blue and purple rays. The fourth was a cloth of gold upon which a sable manticore battled a crimson lindwyrm.
“I don’t think they’re here to aid Kirchner,” Ritter said.
“To arms!” I called. “When they are fully engaged, we break the palisades.”
“I will have runners inform the other gates,” Roland said.
“Good,” I said with a nod.
“At least we found von Slough,” Lenz said. “I guess he got caught outside the city when the gates closed again.”
“I’d thought he died,” I said.
“I suppose he went for help.”
“We’ll have to find out.”
“That means getting past Feyblooded’s walls.”
“Maybe he’ll open the gate,” I said.
“He’s never been much for hospitality,” Lenz said.
“Care to help me knock on the door?”
“You want to do that personally?” Lenz asked.
“I do,” I said.
“With what?” Soren asked.
“That ram they have so thoughtfully provided.” I turned to face the blue-tabarded young men who’d ridden by my side into the city. “I need half of you to get shields. The biggest, stoutest shields you can lay your hands on. You’re going to be covering yourselves and the man next to you. The other half will help me turn that ram back around.”
“Are you quite sure you want to handle that personally?” Roland asked.
“At the moment, I am best employed putting the fear of Azerion into the enemy.”
“Should we fetch Lady Marcelene?” Soren asked.
“No, she is working on the barrier. Let her work.” I pulled my helmet on. “And now we get to work.” I was still unaccustomed to seeing everyone scramble at my command. The surge of enthusiasm wasn’t from my authoritative tone, but from the news that our situation wasn’t was hopeless as it seemed. It was still surreal watching it happen.
***
As I’d learned, the gates of Salzheim were designed to close quickly, not open quickly. Ironically, the damage to the north gate meant it moved as fast or as slow as our muscles could swing it. That is, after we dismantled the barricade. Hefting the log-sized beams out of the way took whole teams of men. We did not move them far, it would have been a waste of effort. Timing the venture was the hard part. I needed to be sure the force in the field couldn’t break away and come back to the city, though I remembered what cavalry did to unprepared infantry. It was probably already too late for them to turn back as long as that other army was in the field. Still, I waited for the clash of steel before giving the order. The shields we’d gathered up turned out to be the pavises that had lined Lady Knochenmus’ palanquin. Each had been hastily defaced with a crude painting of a roc to mar the original livery and make it clear who the new owners were.
We had not practiced fighting in pairs, but it was quickly decided that keeping a hand on your shield-bearer’s shoulder would prevent the pairs from being separated. So I had a firm grip on Ritter’s pauldron as the gates were thrown open. I was right to be worried about Feyblooded’s archers, as the air grew thick with crowfeather arrows the moment we were within bowshot. Crouching low, I listened to them thudding into the pavise or whistle past. It might have been my imagination, but I felt as though they darkened the air with their multitudes. Being a city rather than a true fortress, Salzheim had no moat. The closest thing was a shallow ditch meant to redirect rainwater away from the foundations of the walls. Two of the ram’s wheels had slipped into this ditch after Kirchner’s men had pushed it aside to get in the gate.
With staid determination, we got under the iron-shingled roof of the ram and took hold of its posts. The shield bearers covered the open sides of the contraption as the rest of us heaved to get it up onto level ground. The ram proper was a bundle of smaller timbers wrapped in iron bands and capped with an iron-clad wedge. The bundle was a solid two feet thick, and so heavy that even the shield bearers had to lend their backs to shoving it out of the ditch. Once its wheels were on level ground, it turned more readily. Turning the prow of this siege engine towards the only true gate in Kirchner’s wall that I could see, we pushed it forward.
The thumping on the iron roof tiles grew frenetic as Feyblooded’s followers became frantic to halt our advance. Inexorable, implacable, we pushed on, letting the cadence of the drumming on the iron spur our muscles into more effort. The wedge had just about kissed the gate when a new sound joined the chorus – a skittering scramble of talons on soil. Skink riders spilled through the stake fields that formed the bulk of Kirchner’s fortification, streaming towards us. Despite our own archers raining death upon them, the goblins closed the gap on both sides.
“Stand fast!” I called, drawing the sword of Jochen.
Arrow-studded shields splintered as glaives crashed into them. Steel snicked out, spilling scarlet and viridian vitae. Unlike the last time this troop had faced such foes, there was no unarmored flesh to be struck unguarded. Indeed, it was the goblins’ soft bodies and their scaly mounts that suffered. Caught in a pincer, we could not be pushed back, and their momentum lasted no more than an instant once we collided. In the melee of claw, tooth, and blade, I almost lost my grasp of the larger battle. Unable to push under the canopy of the ram, the skink riders were stuck in the open, where the Salzheim archers continued to punish them. Less than two minutes after they appeared, the survivors were already scurrying back from whence they’d come. We had to kick the corpses from in front of the wheels to push the ram those last few feet.
Wedges locked the wheels in place. Where one was missing, a goblin glaive was pressed into service. Taking hold of the handles on the ram proper, we hauled back.
“Heave!” I hollered.
Hurling the ram forward, we were rewarded with a satisfying splintering from the gate.
“Heave!” I repeated.
The ream was greeted by a greater cracking and a shudder.
“Heave!”
The third swing smashed the stout timber holding the gate and sent it tumbling into the crowd behind it. I surged through the gap, swatting spears aside as I drew the sword of Jochen from its scabbard. Slamming a shield aside with a bash of my offhand fist, I surveyed the situation past the gate. Sellswords and scoundrels from the look of them. And the scoundrels were sandwiched between the gate and the more experienced mercenaries, probably to prevent them from fleeing the fight. This worked against them as the scattering scoundrels swamped the sellswords and pushed them back for us.
Above, I heard a scornful voice calling, “More arrows!”
I chanced a glance back, catching a glimpse of more troops from Salzheim advancing with shields raised to gain the gate before too many were cut down.
“Clear the path,” I called, rushing back to the ram and heaving upward on one side. The others joined me, and we hefted it up on a single pair of wheels. With the ram proper free to swing on its chains, the center of balance shifted quickly past the far side. Crashing down on its side posts, it shattered, crumpling into a broken heap, but a heap out of the way of the gate. Suddenly exposed to the crowfeather arrows, we scrambled back inside the gatehouse. The momentary reprieve had given the sellswords a moment to regroup, but they were reluctant to meet us. Instead they backpedalled. The gatehouse had no back wall, so they simply withdrew into the palisade courtyard. An upward glance told me at once that it was a trap.
“Take the parapets, clear the archers,” I commanded.
As the sellswords saw us move for the ladders instead of being drawn into the archers’ field of fire, they came at us. Interposing myself, I fought to beat back their blades. My troop took up position by my side, leaving the reinforcements to pour onto the parapets. Seeing their situation souring, the sellswords fell back and fell into a posture of surrender. With their blood up, my fellows started to follow with aggressive intent.
“Spare them,” I called. “Let the rest see that we will accept surrender.” It took noticeable effort for some to stay their swords, but no one struck. I climbed to the parapet where soldiers were already setting fire to Kirchner’s banner. The archers had all been subdued, scattered, or slain. Surveying the scene, I saw signs of fighting at all three gates, and the battle on the field was thickly engaged. I could not tell who had the advantage in any of them. At least here, the burning banner was a clear declaration of who held the spot, however tenuously.
A booming crack thundered through the air, drawing everyone’s eyes to the harbor.
Riddled with violet veins, the barrier was bending. Arching up in the middle, it detached from the sea bed, then ripped free of its eastern moorings. Whipping around, it swung down to smash into the warlocks’ palisade, shattering it into splinters. No one within sight could have missed the scene. That, more than the burning banner, broke the resolve of Kirchner’s army. Some surrendered, some scattered, and some were slaughtered as they stubbornly stood their ground.
For my part, I calmly strolled to where Graymire strained at his reins. Soothing the beast, I mounted up.
If you want your own copy, the whole book is available from Amazon in eBook, Paperback, and Hardcover variants.
Oh dear, I accidentally wrote a power of friendship ending.
It’s a happy ending. I like happy endings. It’s a nice escape from reality.
But it’s not over!
You’re right, there’s two more weeks!
I believe there is still a traitor to deal with!
Call it a ‘Power of Self-Interest’ ending instead. Kord’s rescuers aren’t slaughtering Kirchner & Co out of friendship and altruism, no matter what platitudes they might say afterwards. They’re after plunder and future profits from being able to trade with someone who isn’t a greedy asshole bent on conquest.
Besides, if Kord ended up betrayed and dead, there wouldn’t be sequels.
I’m not up on heraldry (even if I were I have a bad memory for matching symbols to faces), so I have no idea whose banners are coming.
Tree with Crocodile at it’s Root – Wenzel Von Slough
Black with Silver Goat – Freinmarkt-Ziegeberg (Gebhard or his father Hubert)
Silver Raindrop radiating blue and purple – King Hengist III
Gold with Crimson Manticore and Lindwyrm – Otto Hackenhof von Altschaft
Tree with Crocodile at it’s Root – Wenzel Von Slough
etc.
I’m guessing we would know this if we had been paying attention for the last 38 chapters.
Wenzel’s heraldry was only referenced once, so maybe not.
Sweet, sweet victory.
You go, Lady Marcelene! 😃🧙♀️
This is an exciting chapter. Well-done. For several reasons, I particularly like: “I was still unaccustomed to seeing everyone scramble at my command. The surge of enthusiasm wasn’t from my authoritative tone, but from the news that our situation wasn’t was hopeless as it seemed. It was still surreal watching it happen.”
I eagerly await the penultimate chapter.
It’s good to be the boss.
I guess – I wouldn’t know.
I did “management” of a sort for a couple months, a couple decades ago – I hated every minute of it. Oh, you want me to keep track of how many widgets these people process in a day? Well, that is interesting. 🙄
“ It’s good to be the boss.”
Some days yes, some days no.
I can’t not be the boss. I cannot suffer people not taking responsibility, and I cannot unsee a better way.
Management is sometimes fun, sometimes unfun, but always within my wheelhouse.
For me, management was two things:
(1) Hiring people I didn’t need to “manage”. This was easy, as I don’t want to “manage” people.
(2) Always projecting confidence. This was also easy, as I am always sure that I have things in hand, at least better than anyone else in the room. If anyone needed direction, it was no problem for me to tell them what I thought needed to be done.
Part 1 would be easier if I had the power to fire.
Ah, but if you are successful in hiring people you don’t need to manage, they are also people you won’t need to fire. I don’t think I ever fired anyone that I hired. I had some that left because they outgrew what we could provide for them, though.
Everybody makes mistakes, and sometime you misjudge how good a person will be.
Woah. There were a couple dozen comments, and now… WP may have eaten them.
Much like my body somehow ‘ate’ a 5mm kidney stone. All threats of the mineral concretion were held at bay, and the calcified rock failed to break, or even knock upon my urethral defenses. Superpowers, I may have.
(The stone may linger. I gingerly await its probable future assault. It also may be out having lunch. Or maybe my body really did eat it. I sure as fuck didn’t piss it out in a flood of blood. I win.)
You may be thinking of a prior article, because this one has not broken double digits yet tonight.
(You are assuredly correct. *eyes down, hands in pockets, sheepish; kicks silly pebble for being silly)
My body may have eaten a tooth fragment that supposedly wandered into my nasal cavity after some recent surgery. I just heard the CAT scan revealed nothin’.
You smoke crack, rhy, not snort it.
I have snorted plenty of coke but never had crack. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I also did plenty of coke, but no crack. I *did,* however, have plenty of coke-smokes. Lick the end of the fag, dap it on the powder and ssssssmoke away.
I smoked a bit of meth once. We got it from a friend in early college and we had a party or two. A dude I went to high school with… [redacted for now] is the gayest of men possible, and lost – and IIRC, kept off – like 120lbs cuz of it. Fatass to (semi) fit. He’s now quite successful and was fucking on Ru Paul’s Drag Race. His birth name is the gayest name that has ever possibly existed, and his personality matched it.
He was great. Again, I was the only straight dude in the crew, he was/is the most flaming, over-the-top stereotypical Gay Man you can imagine. Nathan Lane in Birdcage is really not far off. He was more butch, but not much.
Rhy: I think it was you who mentioned Ru Paul earlier. Does this clue you in without me doxxing?
Nah, flaming queens are a dime a dozen on that show.
It’s weird cuz in my town gays did not start to “come out” until my senior year of HS, all of a sudden there were two or three obvious up and comers in the lower grades. Before then it was keep a lid on it and that’s how I grew up.
He has his own Wiki! Says he was born in Louisville and gives his birth name, but I only knew him as his stage name. Never heard the real one til just now. It also says he came out when he was 20. Uh. Strangers knew he was gay without even meeting him; they could feel his gay radiation pulsate through the ether from several counties away.
Credit where credit’s due. He’s been with it for a while. I knew him ~2003-2006.
I went to high school with Dusty Bottoms. Season 10.
Wowza. He was a fucking *character.* Signature School in Evansville was Indiana’s first public charter school. 250 kids total, and fuck we were fucking bright enough to get away with being complete fuckballs.
A friend of mine in HS was one of the two coke dealers for that crowd. Now, he is a HS principle.
I’m so old, I have a kidney-shaped pool with a stone in it.
That’s not a stone; that’s your liver.
My liver is so fat & black, it could have starred in the movie “Precious”.
Another stone? Sorry for that.
As far as comments, I noticed some of mine were eaten recently.
For my part, I calmly strolled to where Graymire strained at his reins. Soothing the beast, I mounted up.
Time for some ass-kickin’.
WEF globalist Mark Carney will be the next Prime Minister of Canada, despite not having received a single vote in an election.
Parlement isn’t about elections – it’s about giving the barons a say in the taxes imposed by the king.
Trying to retrofit it to universal suffrage was a mistake.
Yeah, parliamentary systems are built on parties at least as much as ours is. They basically allow parties to appoint someone as the Big Cheese regardless of who they are or what they have done, so long as enough insiders sign on.
It’s worse than that. The Liberal party basically only required that you have an email address in order to vote in the leadership race. No residency requirement. No ID. No citizenship requirement. It’s entirely possible that he was chosen by non-Canadians.
It is only in the U.S., and only if the person has an R after their name, that one gets outraged about “non-elected” officials.
Fuck Canada.
He will, oh yes, he definitely will.
He’s not gonna feel anything. Trudy bored Canadians out years ago with his fucking them.
Absurd. I always assumed a party leader was drawn from MP’s. No?
Surely the Warriors for Democracy in the Canadian liberal party sat in a back room and decided on a person almost solely because of his objection to Trump.
“Did you know that the Jewish Talmud allowed men to have sex with three year old girls?”
Me: *rubs forehead; sighs* “Is it possible that you don’t understand whatever it is you are reading?”
“Jews are evil!”
After researching a bit, it is clear to me that Rabbis who lived centuries ago were debating possible situations, not actual, real-life cases, and certainly not pervasive, ongoing activities.
Jew that isn’t a Rabbi: “What if X?”
Group of Rabbis (after thinking about it and debating the subject, like, forever): “Then Y”
Person who hates Jews: “Ahhh! Jews do ‘Y’ as part of their daily life!!!”
The thing about “3 year old sex” has two components. The first is not actually talking about sex, but about contracting a marriage between minors. As hard as it may be to believe, this was done as a form of protection for the girl, in a Patriarchal society. In a worst-case scenario, it kept her from having to turn to whoring herself out in order to get food, if her dad lost his business and couldn’t provide a dowry for her. In any case, as soon as the girl in question has the opportunity, she can deny the marriage, and it is annulled.
The second component is, “what if a man has sex with a child?” The Rabbis seemed to conclude that a girl below the age of two who is raped is still legally a virgin. This has repercussions in the Jewish community. Temple priests could only marry a virgin, or a widow of a priest. Again, Patriarchal society, which doesn’t really describe Jewish society in modern times. A girl who is three years and one day old who is raped can compel her rapist to support her. I don’t know the intricacies, but I suspect that, back in the day, the girl in question could be “married”, and have her “husband” support her financially, without actually having to live with him. He is prohibited from marrying anyone else.
The Talmud doesn’t condone sex with children, but it is something that needs to be dealt with if it happens, and in a society where ritual purity is a high priority, a woman who has been abused needs protection by the law.
I haven’t seen anything clear from my research about punishing the abuser, aside from some vague reference to applying corporal punishment.
One last thing; people who hate Jews are harping on this bit of Jewish esoterica, but don’t seem to care at all that, in a Muslim society, not only are the rapist not punished, it is the raped girl who is punished.
Interesting. And what does the Talmud say about “What if the 3 year old’s father or uncle castrates the rapist?”
You will never make it on Twitter with a well reasoned take like that.
140 characters. Go!
No, Jws dnt mlst 3yos ur dum shtup n do sum resrch b4 u say stupd stuff. Ur mbarrasng ur mom she told me so last night in bed
Sounds like Derpy’s plagiarist student, or how I imagine it.
Returned intact from Niagara Falls. Prime and I managed to limit our Saturday night alcohol intake to two glasses of wine and two beers each.
No Niagara Falls special?
I had no go to Urban Dictionary to figure out what that is.
psst… a quicky wedding.
Did you make it to the nice Niagara Falls? The American town is a toilet.
The Syrupeans sealed the border.
Not to protect them from Trump, but from OMWC.
Oh he did say Niagara-on-the-Lake now that I recall. It is very nice there.
Hunter Biden is apparently broke and had to end his laptop lawsuit.
It’s amazing. Joe’s political career ends and, just like after 2016 and the Clinton Foundation, no one is interested in giving Hunter money anymore. Not even for his art!
The only surprise is there isn’t some political patron who has a reason to keep him quiet.
Speaking of Mondrian…
I NEED these and also in red.
Lovely. I’m in for $10. Make it $100.
Now you just need $174,900 more.
Have them made in paste.
Ugh I have to get up two hours earlier than usual on day after spring forward. Kill me.
Could be worse. My wife woke me up with “I think I need to go to the emergency room, I’m in so much abdominal pain” 4 hours after I went to bed.
*narrator* it was (probably) gas
I’ve been a zombie all day.
Husband gets a scope tomorrow (today) and we have to be at the hospital at 6a. I haven’t seen 6a from that side of the alarm clock in years.
Gah… you “win”!
Sleep is for the weak. I shall greet the sun the same way I saw it go down. Awake.
Just not able to sleep. Problems developing at work, and I am moving into the new R.J. Manor Friday. I decided to plan out Glib Flicks through May tonight so I can keep my mind busy.
Congratulations and glad to see Glib Flicks will be going strong. I’m not around to comment as much, but it’s by far my favorite late night post.
I do miss seeing you. I hope everything is going well.
Can’t first if you don’t show up.
And congrats RJ on your fine double wide.
Hope y’all are measles-free and ready to kick some ass!
☕🌄💪
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TNZoFvKF4Wc
🎶🎶
Good morning Sean, U, and Ted’S.!
Well…I think I had the “hard” measles when I was too young to remember it, and I was vaccinated against German measles, so… I think I’m free of it. 🤷♀️
Morning.
I bet those people most posturing about not being impacted by clock changes are in fact hardest hit by them and putting up a false front.
My atomic alarm clock finally “phoned home” to the official atomic clock in Colorado and updated itself last night after sitting on a windowsill for two nights to get the signal. Yay, technology…I guess.
I’ve been trying to come up with an atomic clock joke.
The moment got away from me.
When the alarm goes off in the morning, it’s time to get up and atom?
I am now in mixed time as the clocks that require manual updates are still on standard time.
I came up with a terrible pun involving an electron who got knighted.
He set up a Sir Valence State.
I could have make a similar pun about an electron spy, but he got excited at the prospect of having a nuclear family.
::narrows gaze::
😁
Bongino to all.
I have one of those clocks: it never synched, from day one.
This is an ungodly hour for anyone to be up.
I’m God, and I’m up, thank you very much.
You are a liar, and you are only up this early because of your ungodly ways.
Who do you think is preventing Brochettaward from posting the First That Changes Everything?
Bro himself.
You time change whingers are soft.
Anyone who uses the term ‘whinger’ is a cream puff.
Anyone who uses the term “cream puff” doesn’t know the word “profiterole”.
I know the word, but I don’t speak French.
Two hours into my shift. Commute started at 425. This version of factory work suits me, at the moment.
Wish it had less walking. We shall see what orthopedist says the 17th. For now, I happily March on. (Fuck you, autocorrect.)
~$110/day and a schedule? This is a marked improvement. We shall see how it progresses.
I got up at 5:15a for an inadequately prepped husband. 🙄
ha You probably got more sleep than he did.
There is that…
suh’ fam
whats goody
Not much.
The forecast is 60s and 70s this week. The cats will enjoy lounging on the deck.
My insomnia has been waking me up with squirrel brain well before my alarm clock so the change is NBD. Except that it doubles the number of days I have to drive into the sun.
Shouldn’t that be a rat brain?
It just now occurs to me that UCS has cleverly avoided having to describe how “magic” works in his world. Marcelene explaining her plan would require explaining how the various forces work and are controlled. Since magic is not the focus (ha ha get it) of the story, better to just leave it as “it’s a thing that works, you don’t need to know how.”
😁