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Re: 4-Word Reviews The Mistborn Trilogy:

Three book magic explanation

Or

Wanna play my RPG?

February 03, 2015, 11:44:50 AM
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Re: 4-Word Reviews That makes me want to read it.  Wonderful?
February 03, 2015, 10:51:22 PM
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Re: [Mar 2015] - Rogues - Submission Thread I'm first again this month, but after promising this, I had to get it out there.
So here you have it: "One Rogue, Four Women and Escape on a Bicycle"
Coming in at a trim (for me) 1,485 words

Spoiler for Hiden:
         Jack laughed and spread his arms wide. “I swear, it’s true! Four of them at once!” Catcalls and cries of “Liar!” greeted this declaration. Someone threw a fig. The rogue jumped up on the table, setting the chandelier swinging and flinging hot wax on his audience. “You think this couldn’t handle it?” he shouted, grabbing his codpiece to great laughter and guffaws. “My brave soldier here could find the one virgin in a king’s harem with the lights out and my hands tied.”
   “I think your brave soldier couldn’t find the piss pot with the light on and your fly open!” yelled someone from the balcony.
   “I’ll tell you what really happened,” called a new voice, one with feminine tones and a cultured accent. It was lost in the commotion like a flower in a garbage heap until the speaker raised her voice with a righteous cry. “I’ll tell you what really happened!” And the whole room held its breath.

   I’ll tell you what really happened. I was handing around tea for the Delacroix sisters - delightful cucumber sandwiches and good Darjeeling - and they, good souls, were enlightening me about society in my new city; when one of them, Mary, I think, whispered “And then there’s Jack.” Jack Stinson, a rake if I’d ever heard of one, had arrived some months earlier and begun a circuit of the eligible maidens and even the ineligible matrons. He was a fine shot and an honest card player so the men welcomed him. As for we women, I suspect we are all susceptible to strong shoulders and a talented tongue.
   The bell rang and another recent acquaintance appeared. It was not more than three minutes before the poor thing was in tears and weeping on my shoulder. We had the truth out of her, and a great determination filled my soul. Jack Stinson must get what he deserved, or in this case, reap what he had sown.
   I know a little magic. Not your parlor trick, sleight-of-hand frivolity, but a true thing handed down from a branch of my family that once owned plantations on exotic Jamerica. The first order of business was to discover how widely the rogue had spread his affections. I set the calling cards of all the women with whom I’d had intercourse in a circle around a delicate glass bottle, and pushed it into a lazy spin. The four of us held our breaths as the bottle stopped first at one name and then another to expostulations of “She would!” and “I never!” and even “I didn’t think she had it in her”, which made me laugh but caused our poor betrayed one to dissolve in tears again. When the bottle pointed at the senior Miss Delacroix, her younger sister’s mouth twisted as though she’d eaten an unripe persimmon, and when it next pointed to the younger sister, things threatened to storm and thunder right there in my sitting room. However, it was soon evident that the bottle would stop at every one of the twenty-three lady’s cards and we four subsided into a simmering, amazed silence. Then we set our plans.
   I made it known I would appreciate an invitation to Lady Baldwin’s soiree, and I know she was thrilled for me to attend. Jack was there, and came to me like a bee to the finest orchid in the garden. I have to admit pleasure at being the envy of every female eye in the room. I should not have been surprised that Jack was the finest dancer I had ever partnered, or that his conversation was in decidedly good taste. But I was unprepared for the originality of his ideas or the effect of his flattery upon me. We set an assignation for the next day, Herod’s Hotel, noon.
   He arrived in a sweat-stained suit and straw hat, saying he had been experimenting with a velocipede and offering to take me riding with him. I think he was taking my measure. Had I been at leisure to enjoy his company, I might have risen to the bait.
   We had a private room in the restaurant. Not even for this noble cause could I afford to risk my reputation by taking a suite upstairs. We dined - a delicious rump roast and breasts of the finest fowl. As the dessert was served, I at last turned the conversation to magic, explaining that I had gypsy blood and could bring him into contact with the Other World.
   “That would be most rare”, said he, and we began. I set the empty bottle of Tolkane ’54 on its side, and began to spin it lazily.
   “Jack, I have come for you,” said a bodyless voice. “You have betrayed and dishonored me.” I attest that Mary’s imitation of a spirit was so much like the real thing that even I shrank.
   “Who is it?” cried Jack, his eyes wide.
   “One who loved you when alive,” the elder Miss Delacroix continued. “But Lucifer has set me loose on you, Jack.”
   “No!” he cried, “Whichever you are, I swear your death was not on me.”
   But now a second voice called out, and I summoned a mist to swirl through the room. “Jack!” it screamed. The younger Miss Delacroix could certainly have taken lessons from her sister, for I couldn’t believe her to be a spirit for one moment. But Jack was growing more agitated. “Jack! You deceiver. How could you leave me for her!”
   It was terrible acting, but Jack was up from his chair, and pacing around the chamber like a man possessed.
   Now the third voice sounded, and I swear that the very hair on my neck stood on end, so authentic was it in its pain and loss. “Jack,” it whispered. “I loved you, Jack. But you took from me what can never be returned.”
   Jack sputtered in surprise, stopping his pacing and gripping the back of his chair. “Angelica?” he asked hesitantly. “If you’re looking for the pearls, I can explain that -“
   “NO!” screamed our poor sister, “NO!” A cold wind started to whip through the room. “It’s too late, Jack! I told you I would, and I’ve gone and done it!”
   At this, my companions threw open the doors of the room and stood revealed in white robes, holding flaming torches. “We have come for you!” they cried, and Jack, brave Jack, threw himself on my breast, crying “Save me!” then ran screaming from the room. We hunted him then through the hotel, for the staff - well-paid for this adventure - made certain of the front door.
   Suddenly, our man burst from a maid’s closet, dressed in a woman’s sleeping gown, robe and blond wig, pursued by Angelica as though the hounds of hell were at his heals. He hurled himself wildly against the plate glass window of the hotel, shattering it into a thousand pieces and finally rolling into the gutter. The four of us were hard on him, and we chased the rogue into the street. His two-wheeled contraption was there, and he threw himself upon the seat. Then leaning over the steering bars, he pushed desperately with his feet to build up speed. His robe was flapping in the wind behind him as he cycled away, and we truly thought we’d seen the utter end of Jack Stinson.
   We stood in the street, our clothes in disarray, our chests heaving, and smiles of triumph on our faces. (Though poor Angelica was still looking positively ghostly.) Then I raised my hand to straighten my hair and discovered that the scoundrel had stolen my earrings, my necklace and even a small gold ring I wore on my left pinky.
   This wasn’t the story I told the crowd, of course.

   “Please, for the love of God and the saints, have mercy on a fallen woman!” she cried. “This black villain must do as he promised and marry me, or I shall be ruined!”
   At this, the audience turned a bleak though bleary eye on Jack, and some of the more drunk of the jury began to scale the table to seize him. A cry rose up to bring a rope. The rogue ran the length of the table toward his accuser, dodging glasses and tankards with nimble feet, and he might have reached her had not a drunken crone thrown a beer bottle and knocked him off his aim. He ended up face-first in the bosom of the bar maid, who pushed him off with a practiced hand and sent him sprawling to the ground in front of the woman he’d so deeply wronged.
   “I want my jewels back, Jack,” she hissed.
   Jack smiled wickedly and launched himself back onto the table. “That’s not what really happened!” he yelled over the chaos.

   Friends – Let me tell you what really happened.

March 04, 2015, 03:22:34 PM
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Re: [Feb 2015] - Fanfic - Discussion Thread
I must have miscounted! I had it at one and a half jorgs, with the half being mine - always hoping for a bonus points with a fanfic mashup.
NNNNNnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooo
I mis-counted.  :-\

March 10, 2015, 09:30:28 PM
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Re: 4-Word Reviews
The Name of the Wind:

Arrogant man tells story.

The Wise Man's Fear:

Arrogant man gets laid.

What about seven words
Is that a review or a question?  ;D

March 11, 2015, 09:14:25 AM
1
Re: 4-Word Reviews
The First Law(1-3)
everyone makes unheroic decisions
I haven't read the book and I still think that's funny

Quote
The Magicians
four words not enough
Now I'm curious.
Four not enough because... It sucks!
Or four not enough because It's wonderful!

March 12, 2015, 04:36:19 PM
1
Re: The best female science fiction and fantasy writers you should read now

Totally off of the OP, but I'm interested that these covers do not conform to the "single tough-looking figure swinging a weapon at us, and often hooded" that seems to dominate so many books these days. Meanwhile, does someone have to speak with Waterstone's about Terry Goodkind?  :P

March 14, 2015, 10:52:58 PM
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Re: Miscellaneous Musings
Oh right - I loved Helsinki when I visited, about 8 years ago. Lovely feel of small city, even though it's a capital.
 :)
Yeah it's great, the center is nice but the area we live in is even nicer. You can actually see our building on this:

Spoiler for Hiden:
I don't believe you. I see no evidence of twin pyramids or a spaceship for two-headed aliens. This is not your building, you don't live in Helsinki. This is all very clever misdirection about your true nature(s).

March 15, 2015, 04:35:20 PM
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Re: [MAY 2015] - Terry Pratchett Memorial Read - Nominations are open
So you don't have to read the Discworld novels in chronological order to understand what's going on? That would be my only concern. I'm very interested in joining, but I'm skeptical about diving into the middle.
My first TP book was Going Postal which was not chronological. And what a blast. From what I can tell the novels are pretty self-contained. But I do think that those in the know should guide us to one that is strong in that way.

March 16, 2015, 10:24:40 AM
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Re: How did you find us?
Quote
I actually don't know what snapchat is. An app I guess? I've never owned a smartphone. I've actually only touched one for about a total of an hour in my life. And a major part of my job is to make websites work on smartphones...  ???

Do I get a medal?
Yes. Here's one  :)


i so want Karma system back. This needs a huge AGREED!

March 16, 2015, 11:36:48 AM
1