The Stormcrow, A Superhero's Tale Options

[Acadian]

Nice to learn more about Jan’s new winged partner. Stealth via miniaturization and silence – nice!

As ever, great banter between the two friends who’ve known each other so long.

And the additional purpose of their operational test flight becomes apparent. Ahah, opposition research on their foe(s).

[SubRosa]

Renee: In some ways Avery is the opposite of January, as he is the science and tech guy that balances out her wizardry. Where magic essentially runs on will and power, he is always using logic and looking for a rational explanation for things. They are not as extreme as Mulder and Scully from the X-Files. But it does make Gadget less quick to embrace mystical solutions like the Ravenwing. Combined with his naturally cautious and prudent nature, that makes him overly hesitant in this case.

You guessed the purpose of their visit. They are in Idaho to serve a death notice to Bismarck's relatives.


Acadian: I was originally thinking of incorporating some kind of magical stealth technology to the Ravenwing, just as Gadget had been thinking. Then it occurred to me that it already had it, in the form of its ability to mimic an ordinary bird. It is nice and simple.

Avery and January are always fun to write together, given their deep history together.




Book 12.40 - Broken Arrow

"I'm guessing that's your folks inside?" Gadget nodded to the house. "Why don't we go and get them too."

January felt her stomach slowly tie itself into knots as they followed the thirty-something year old farmer up to the house and through the front door. She had done this before with Blood Raven. That time they had informed her mother Barbara that Julian was dead, then afterward told her father the same thing. Finally they had also visited the home of Rafael Laurenti, who had been slain at Gull Island.

She had let Blood Raven take the lead then. But she could not rely on someone else to bear the brunt of serving the death notice now. Blood Raven had insisted on doing it. She had said it was a reminder to her that people's lives were not insignificant. That this was not all just a game they played with supervillains. When people died, even the villains, it mattered to someone. They needed to look that someone in the eye and tell them.

The inside of the farm house was about what January expected. Joe led them into a wide living room. A big screen TV took up much of one wall, and a couch and two chairs were parked across a coffee table from it. A picture of a cowboy on a horse graced one wall, and a Native American dream catcher hung upon another. A John Wayne cookbook lay on a side table, along with several estate sale magazines.

Vulpine News filled the TV. Rather than talking about the neo-Nazis like every other network in the world, they were running the story of Patricia Fine accusing January Ward of being a gender terrorist. They even had Canadian former professor and current right wing pundit Peter Jordanson explaining to the two hosts that women were symbols of chaos. He went on to expound that trans people defied the natural hierarchy of life, because they were inherently anti-life, and anti-Western democracy. In fact, he proclaimed that they were the agents of Cultural Marxism, which wished to overthrow Western society as part of their Globalist agenda. The next step would be forcing women into straight to gay conversion camps.

As if January had not had been given plenty of evidence in her life already, this made it plain why organizations like the Transgender Equality Project needed to exist. It was the very same propaganda that had radicalized the members of the Atomkrieg in the first place.

A wide-bellied man in a blue Western shirt rose up from the couch. A cigarette fell from his mouth as he gaped at them. That caused him to scramble for it as its glowing ember bounced across his jeans and down onto the couch. As he fought to recover it and put it out in an ashtray, a rail-thin woman with gray hair pulled back into a severe bun rose to her feet as well.

"You're, you're, them!" she cried. Then her eyes narrowed into slits, and voice turned to a serpentine hiss. "What are you doing here? We know our rights. You government types can't take them away from us."

"We don't work for the government," Gadget insisted. He introduced himself and Stormcrow once more. When the woman did not respond, he continued. "I take it you are Elizabeth and Mark?"

January looked Mark directly in the eye. He had put out his cigarette now, and had dusted its ashes from his clothing. "We are here to tell you about your brother Kaleb, also known as Bismarck."

"Kaleb?" Mark looked as dumbfounded as Joe had been earlier. "What does he have to do with anything. Did he do something again?"

January looked to Gadget. These people really did not know. One glance at the TV screen revealed why. Vulpine News was an echo chamber of conservative propaganda. One that had defended itself in court by claiming no reasonable person would take them seriously. But it was not a satire or comedy network. It was of course deadly serious in its messaging. It also studiously avoided ever mentioning right wing violence, and anything else that could make their political team look bad.

These people were living in a literal echo chamber.

"I don't know how to say this..." Gadget rubbed the back of his head, his sure tell of distress.

"Kaleb—Bismarck—is dead," January took the rip the bandage off approach. It was what Blood Raven had done. Now she saw why. There was just no way to lessen this blow. It was best to just be honest and earnest. "He died two days ago in the Atlantic Ocean, after a previous battle at the Smithsonian. He and his terrorist cell were trying to steal two nuclear weapons, and we had to stop him."

"We?" Mark's face slowly darkened, as his look of shock turned to one of anger and disgust. He thrust a thick finger at her face, as threatening as a sickle-sword in the hands of an Egyptian supervillain. "You mean you. You killed my brother!"

"No, I did not," January insisted. "He was killed by a supervillain named Rook. What was left of him at least."

"What was left of him?" now it was Elizabeth's turn to ask. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Rook died sixty years ago, trying to hijack a B-52 with two nuclear bombs on board," Gadget jumped in now. "He failed, and killed everyone on the plane, including himself. But he was a magician. His... spirit... his ghost, lived on after a fashion. Kaleb found the location of the crashed plane and tried to steal the bombs within."

"We were fighting, and Bismarck took us right to where Rook's ghost was lying in wait, all these years. It came out of nowhere and killed him in an instant." January explained.

"You were fighting, but you were fighting him!" Mark's voice grew more heated. "You were there to kill him anyway!"

"No, we were not," January argued. She realized that it was indeed devolving into an argument. That was not what they had come for. She had to get things back on track, if there even was such a thing when you were informing someone of a family member's death. "We did not kill any of the members of the Atomkrieg. We captured all the others and handed them over to the Navy. They are all in federal custody right now."

"So why, why all of this?" Joe interjected. He once more looked dumbfounded. "I mean, I know uncle Kaleb went down a weird hole back when I was a kid. But why would he be doing such a thing? That's crazy!"

"Buddy, your uncle was a Nazi," Gadget said plainly. "He was going to nuke DC and New York City. The feds got it from the other Atomkrieg members in custody already. He thought it was going to start a race war that would usher in an apocalypse, which a Nazi utopia would follow."

"If that was true it would have been on the news!" Elizabeth shouted, and pointed to Vulpine News on the television. "Why is there no mention of it then?"

"Try a real news channel for a change, instead of Russian propaganda," Gadget murmured. He raised a gauntleted hand to the television, and a moment later its screen flipped over to Worldwide Network News. It revealed a shaky video of the two nuclear cores in their containment cases. They were being loaded into a lead-lined truck by men in what looked like space suits. In a small picture in picture screen, anchor Nathan Reed explained how the Atomkrieg had attempted to steal the two Cold War-era nuclear bombs.

"That's woke indoctrination!" Elizabeth raved. "That's what they want you to think. It's all lies. Everything they say is lies!"

January opened her mouth, ready to follow up with a retort. But Gadget raised a hand in front of her face, and warded her off. She let her words die in her throat, and sighed. This was a Sisyphean task, and she knew it. No amount of pushing the boulder of truth up their hill could ever convince these people of anything.

"We are sorry for your loss," January finally mouthed. "That is what we came to tell you. If we could have saved him, we would have."

"I don't believe you, mister," Elizabeth said pointedly. The misgendering comment was just the tip of a series of transphobic slurs that followed. They were the kind January had heard a thousand times. They were nothing worth listening to now. So she tuned them out. Or at least, she tried to.

In spite of her best efforts, January's hands balled into fists, as if of their own accord. The temptation to plant one in the other woman's face was breathtaking.

"And a good day to you too, sir and madam," Gadget said to all. He swept his arm out, and guided January to the door. She followed his lead, and made her way outside to the open air. It was a relief to escape the house, and the aura of rancor that now filled its walls. She suddenly felt like she could breathe again, and inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. She stared up at the blue sky overhead. As always, it felt like home. Just the sight of it calmed her racing heart.

"I'm sorry about that," Joe's voice came from behind them. She turned just in time to see the door to the house clatter shut behind him. He pulled his work gloves from his back pocket, and fidgeted with them nervously. "My folks, they've been going down a Vulpine News rabbit hole lately, ever since the last election really. Me, I stopped watching the news years ago. It just gets me so damned... pissed off sometimes."

"Yeah, I get that," January nodded. Though she wondered about what exactly it was that upset him. Was it the fabricated stories crafted to rouse hate and fear, or the facts?

"They aren't bad people, really," Joe went on. "My father, he knows my uncle Kaleb was evil. Just flat out evil. That's how he said it to me when I was a kid, after my uncle tried to blow up that federal building in Boise. It's just hard to square all that with the man who used to let me sit on his knee and pretend to drive the tractor around the yard. But I know it's true. Kaleb was a bad man, and I'm sure in the end he got what he deserved. Like what they say about karma: what you put out into the world, it comes back to you."

"I am sorry Joe, I really am. I did not want things to work out this way." Stormcrow's voice eased. She reached out, and gave him a gentle pat on one shoulder. Then her voice lowered to a whisper. "So tell me, your meta-human power. Is it telekinesis? Or can you absorb energy?"

"What?" Joe hissed. His eyes darted to and fro, as if to check that no one else was listening. "How do you know that?"

'I can see it in your aura," January said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to out you. Just be careful with your power. It's easy to lose your cool, and do something you regret with it. We can train you if you want."

"No, that's alright," Joe stepped back, his voice returning to normal. "I've got a handle on it. I have since I was a teen."

"Just... be chill then bro," Gadget raised a fist in a form of salute to the other man. Then as if by an afterthought, he reached into his belt, and pulled out a business card. "This is our hotline. If you're ever in a jam, call us."

"Yeah, I'll do that," Joe stared down at the card, then back up at the superheroes. Clearly, he had a lot to digest.

"Oh, and the press is going to be here, soon," January added. "Your unlisted number won't keep them at bay for long. You might want to get it disconnected. Once they track you and your folks down they'll be showing up in person too. It's what they do."

With that January and Gadget left him, and headed back to the Ravenwing. This time January took the controls of the ravencraft. She sent them winging high into the sky, and left Idaho and Bismarck's surviving relatives far behind. She hoped that she would never have to face Joe across a battlefield in the future. But she could not escape the nagging feeling that he might fall down a rabbit hole of hate one day, the same as his uncle had, and the same as his parents were in the process of doing.

"Maybe, let's not do this again," Gadget murmured.

"Yeah, I get it. Usually it's just soul-crushing. It's never been like that." January breathed. "Then again, my mother did punch Blood Raven when she told her that Julian was dead..."

"She did what?" Having raised the faceplate to his armor, Gadget's jaw dropped with a look of amazement.

"Yeah, she put her whole body into it too, tagged her solid in the jaw," January explained. "Not that it hurt Blood Raven of course. She barely even noticed."

"I guess like they say, everyone deals with grief in different ways," Gadget murmured.

"And sometimes we have to be the punching bags for them," January mused.

* * *

[Acadian]

Well, ya tries to be nice. Ya tries to do the right thing even. But sometimes. . . well, it just doesn’t work out and ya get stuck in a shoot the messenger mess. Ya know?

[Renee]

X-files were great.

Even in Idaho, she cannot escape herself being news, mmm.

They even had Canadian former professor and current right wing pundit Peter Jordanson explaining to the two hosts that women were symbols of chaos

One might think such puritan nonsense would be way behind the times, but all ya gotta do is listen to two minutes of J.D. Vance to realize plenty of asshats still think like this. So at first I'm thinking Farmer Joe seems rather cool. He didn't freak about a bi-racial pair showing up at his doorstep, for instance. But with that crap on his BIG screen...


The rail-thin woman thinks they're government? What are Jan & Avery wearing?

See, now I wonder if Jan & Avery are going to be safe. Like, why is it their job to do the notification? Seems like they've just walked into the middle of a right-wing lion's den.

Yeesh, this notification isn't going so well. Usually notifications bring tears and wailing, not arguments with the notifiers. Interesting how the family has sort of disowned Bismarck, or at least distanced themselves from him; they've made comments like "what has he done this time?", yet now they're defending him, in a way.

I actually like that this farmer family is getting hostile, by the way. This shouldn't be a congenial scene.

Yeah, Joe seems cool. Not as close-minded, anyway. He's probably the black sheep of this hick family.

I agree with Gadget again. I don't think it should be up to them to notify folks like them again. The message gets lost.

Phew, they're outta there! Was worried a shotgun was about to go off as they turned their backs.

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 27 2024, 03:56 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Sometimes you just cannot win, such as in this case. I included this because I wanted to show just where Bismarck came from. Not only physically, but more importantly the kind of stochastic terrorism that turned him into a monster. The same propaganda that is still at work on others, insuring that there will be no shortage of replacements for Bismarck in the future.


Renee: Everything that the Crowverse's Peter Jordanson says are direct quotes from RL Jordan Peterson. Women being chaos dragons that men must slay, to trans people being invented by Cultural Marxism to destroy Western democracy. Like Margaret Atwood did in the Handmaid's Tale, I am always careful to portray people like this using their exact words and actions. So I am not projecting my beliefs on to them. I am taking them at their own word.

Jan and Avery are in their super suits of course. They are flying around in the raven mobile, and telling them what they did as superheros.

It is not January and company's job to do any of things they are doing, like fighting supervillains or cleaning up Belle Isle. This is all their choice, because they are heroes. They know the world they want to live in, and are determined to make it reality. That means not just punching bad guys, but treating others with compassion. It is not something new. Blood Raven did this. As January noted, her own mother punched Blood Raven in the face when they told her about Julian's death.

Bismarck's family is complicated, as real life bigots are. They know that Bismarck was evil. But at the same time, they are falling into the same propaganda hole that Bismarck did. They just are not as far down it as he was. But they still hate black people, and queer people, and the like. They are just are not literal Nazis. Yet...

If Bismarck's family had shot them with a gun, well, that would not even have scratched Gadget's powered armor or January's bare skin. They are superheros after all. The ricochets might have killed the family however.





Mount Rainer and Mount Adams from the peak of Mount St Helens

Shadowrun is the cyperpunk RPG that January and Avery refer too

Renraku is one of the mega corporations in the setting


Book 12.41 - Broken Arrow

They traded the long mountain range that filled Idaho's panhandle for a vast plateau to the west. Soon another chain of snowy peaks crossed their path: the Cascade Mountains. It was an odd range. Most of the peaks were relatively ordinary, and created a rugged line across the horizon. But here and there real giants rose up to twice their height, which immediately drew the eye to them. It sort of tricked one into not really noticing that the other mountains were in fact, mountains.

January's eyes danced across these towering giants. Down to the south she recognized one by its broken dome: Mount St. Helens. She had been there with Blood Raven, Ôkami, and Vortex after Jobbie Nooner. Deep in the bowels of that volcano they had put to sleep the fire elemental that they had battled at the waterborne festival.

Vortex... Hannah. January had gone the entire day without thinking about her. In fact, she had also gone most of the previous days without thinking of her first, last, and only girlfriend ever. Now that was something to be said for neo-Nazi's trying to nuke the country and start a race war. At least it took your mind off your failed love life...

Soon they crested the summits of the Cascade Mountains, and the land below them immediately changed. It was like a switch had gone off. One side of the peaks was all arid and dusty tablelands. On the other a carpet of densely forested lowlands spread out beyond their feet. A finger of water hooked down through these woodlands from the north and west. Wedged between the eastern shore of this giant sound and the mountains were the gray concrete and glass buildings of a large metropolis. The far side of the estuary was all wild forest, and even boasted some mountains of its own. Finally to the west of that lay the endless blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean, which ran away into infinity across the horizon.

January nosed the Ravenwing down. The strip of land between the mountains behind them and the sound ahead became larger and larger as they gave up altitude. Seattle and its environs filled this narrow space. She was a little disappointed that there was no massive pyramidal arcology built by a Japanese mega corporation, nor a burned out barren land ruled over by go-gangers. But when she pushed away these fictional expectations created from playing a certain cyberpunk role-playing game set in this very same city, she did find much to appreciate in the real world metropolis below.

The Space Needle was of course the first thing that caught her eye. It perched above the city's skyline like a flying saucer from an old science fiction movie. Even taller skyscrapers rose up all around it of course. Some were bright and shining, others dark and ominous. They clustered along the shores of Puget Sound, which spread out behind them like an azure blanket.

"It's all new," Gadget noted. "It's all glass and steel and concrete, there's no old buildings."

January realized that her partner was right. Unlike Detroit, Seattle looked fully modern and new and shiny. Then on second glance she did note some older Art Deco and Neo Gothic masterpieces of a century past. But these older buildings were lightly sprinkled through the modern technological wonders, so that the eye did not land on them at first. It felt like a city of the future, almost like something she might see in a Star Trek show.

"Maybe Renraku tore down the old buildings and replaced them with new cyberdeck factories." January once again in referenced the role-playing game Shadowrun.

"Slot it and run chummer." Gadget replied in the slang that would have been common had they lived in that game. Then he was all business. "Ok, hang a left before SeaTac."

January followed his directions, and they passed over a long industrial district. Rather than old time chimneys cutting the skyline and bellowing smoke, this was all wide, featureless buildings with flat white roofs. A U-shaped building that seemed to be painted in white and blue rectangles briefly interrupted the monotony of light industrial factories. January imagined that must be some sort of tech bro enclave. But that went by in no time at all, as did the freeway that bordered the southern edge of the district.

Now they came to a mixed neighborhood of homes and retail businesses. She slowed down, and followed Gadget's instructions as he led her down to a specific point among the sea of small houses. With a thought she bid the Ravenwing to shrink down to the size of a bird. That would keep them off of TV and MeTube.

Then they settled into the back yard of a small blue and white house with a peaked roof. A wooden fence lined the rear of the yard, and separated it from the alley behind the property. A red and white shed stood within the yard, so too did a small garden patch. A table and chairs sat to one side, an empty hammock swung from an overhang next to the house, and a wheeled grill waited beside the back door.

A dog lolled on the grass in the middle of the yard. He picked up his head as the Ravenwing settled to the ground, and he studied the tiny vehicle intently. He rose up to his feet and sniffed the air. But he seemed confused by the miniature aircraft, and tilted his head to one side, as if trying to figure out what was wrong with the strange bird that had landed on the grass.

January did not want to scare the poor animal. But there was really no way around it. She lowered the door of the cargo bay and stepped out. As with her first time trying this at the Witch House, it was a little disorientating. Once she cleared the Ravenwing, its shrinking magic no longer affected her. She shot up to full size, and one small step for a crow became a giant leap for a woman. She tottered for a moment, but soon found her balance.

She stepped aside quickly, just in time to avoid being accidentally body-checked by Gadget. The powered armor hero popped up to full size right where she had been standing a moment before. He too wavered as he tried to regain his bearings, and January reached out with one hand to steady him.

"That is weird," Gadget murmured. "Growing up is going to take a little getting used to."

"Been saying that since junior high school..." January breathed.

The dog was a gray and white Husky or Malamute with a big, drooping tongue and a huge, bushy tail. He jumped back in surprise. Then he stared at the two superheroes that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the lawn, and barked several times.

"Hey there boy, it's ok," Gadget tried to say soothingly.

"There's a good boy," January chimed in with the age old way of addressing all dogs. "We're friends. Give me a sniff. I'm a crow, we're pals from way back."

"Sure, I saw it in a documentary," January said breezily. "Corvids and wolves have worked together for thousands of years. The birds lead the wolves to other animals that have died. The wolves eat them, and rip them apart in the process. Then the corvids come in and eat the leftovers. It's the stuff they can't get at on their own, because deer and elk hide are too thick for their beaks to get through. It's a win-win for everyone."

January pulled off one gauntlet and took a few steps forward. Then she went down on one knee and extended her hand the dog. He stopped barking and studied her for long moments. Finally he crept forward and did indeed cautiously sniff at her fingers. He seemed satisfied with that, and a moment later gave her hand a lick.

"Awww, who's a good boy!" January exclaimed. She lifted her other hand, and gently stroked the canine behind the ears. He seemed to like that, and so she continued to pet the dog. That brought him closer, and the next thing she knew January had to screw her lips shut as he began to lick at her lower face, where it was not covered by her winged helmet.

"Well that's a good start," Gadget observed. "I hope this is a sign of things to come."

January turned her head at the sound of the back door creaking open. She saw an old woman within. Her black hair was shot through with gray, and her face was creased with wrinkles. She wore a house coat decorated with pink roses and green leaves. That instantly conjured images of Gadget's Nana within January's mind. It was exactly the sort of thing she would have worn as well.

"Who are-" her voice fell silent as she stared at the two superheroes. It was a look that January had grown accustomed to seeing. It was a mixture of surprise and awe. Some people took meeting a cape in stride, as if it was something they did every day. Some people thought it was just cosplay, and not the real deal. Finally some people were just completely overwhelmed.

Thankfully time and patience usually helped with the final response. Just showing people that you were ordinary, and not some larger than life figure seemed to help. It was the same thing January had noted herself when it came to meeting important people like governors and generals. They were all just people in the end.

She rose to her feet and walked slowly to the old woman. The dog followed her, and January kept one hand down to softly pet his head. Gadget followed. As ever, his armor hummed softly and gave off its signature glow of blue ions in his wake.

"Hi!" January's perky phone voice leaped out of her mouth like a superhero catapulted by a fastball special. "I'm Stormcrow. This is my best friend Gadget. We came to see you. Well I hope we did. Unless we got the wrong house, in which case we came to see someone else. But we're here anyway, so hi anyhow."

January realized that she was babbling, so she shut up. Clearly, she still needed more practice interacting with the public. Some days it went great. Other times, well, here she was. Thank goodness she was not talking to a reporter!

"Are you Margaret Dixon?" Gadget asked, "the daughter of Major Doug Aitken?"

"Yes, yes I am." One of Margaret's hands reached up to grip the slender crucifix that hung from her neck by a silver chain. "Did something happen?"

"Yes, about sixty years ago," January said. "Your father, he was the commander of Keep 19, a B-52 that went missing over the Atlantic, right?"

"That was a long time ago," Margaret looked confused. Then her gray eyes brightened, and her features blossomed with understanding. "That thing on the news, the people who tried to steal those nuclear weapons, was that..."

"Yes," January nodded. "They were trying to recover the bombs from your father's plane. We found it first. We also found your father's final resting place, along with that of the rest of the crew."

"It's in the Atlantic," Gadget chimed in. "I have the GPS coordinates. I can give them to you. It's been declared a gravesite by the government."

"You... you... found my father?" Margaret seemed dumbstruck once more.

January glanced to Gadget. She did not know how to explain this gently. So she just did the best she could to muddle through.

"I'm afraid there was not anything left, of remains at least," January said. "They've been on the bottom of the sea for too long. We would have brought something back—like his dog tags—but it's a gravesite. It's not appropriate for us to tamper with it. We stayed out of it as best we could. But we can share my body camera footage of it with you."

With that another face appeared behind the old woman. This was a young man in his late teens or early twenties. He had a shock of jet black hair, and wore a shirt for a band that January had never heard of. He too, went from a look of surprise to one of amazement when he saw who was at the back door.

"Maybe we could come in, and explain things to everyone together?" Gadget nodded to the kitchen behind them.

Things did go better than their previous visit. Major Aitken's descendants gathered around with their dog Klondike. January recounted the events that led her and the others of the Mid-Atlantic team to the wreckage of their ancestor's plane. She also told them what they had been able to piece together about how it had been hijacked by Rook in the first place, and inevitably crashed with all on board.

True to his words, Gadget displayed his technical abilities by casting the recording of January's suit camera footage to their TV set. That allowed them all to see everything January had when she had first approached the wreckage of the bomber. He cut it off before the battle with Atomkrieg, Rook, and Nitokris began of course.

Margaret showed them an old black and white picture of her father, and the rest of the crew of their plane. They were all men in their prime. Most of them could not have been much older than January or Gadget. Doug Aitken was the oldest, but even he still looked solid and strong, and full of life.

Margaret broke down into tears then. But at least her children and grandchildren were there to comfort her. As were January and Gadget of course. The one ray of hope the superheroine took away from it all was that is appeared to be cathartic, a release from half a century of wondering.

"I finally know what happened to him," Margaret said quietly. "Now I finally know."

They made their goodbyes and returned to the Ravenwing in the back yard. They still had two more families to meet and notify here on the West Coast. January hoped they would go more like Margaret's, and less like Bismarck's. There would have been more, but thankfully Silverlight had promised to perform the death notifications on the East Coast.

The thought brought the face of her brother Julian in her mind's eye. It was not his living face, so often twisted into a sneer. It was his dead face. His dead eyes, that stared from a dead husk of a body, with a hole burned through his chest where his dead heart had once been.

His dead face was replaced by that of Bismarck. Half of his skull had been replaced with shiny metal, and half was still pale skin. A big, bristly white mustache filled his face, as did snowy white hair along what remained of his scalp. Both of the eyes that stared back at her were cold and mechanical, now empty in death.

Then even that melted away. It transformed into the face of the Hierophant, whose fair skin was heavily creased with age and folds of fat. His scalp was a bare patch of rubbery skin, and his neck was practically non-existent. As she had thought the first time she had seen him, he was a bald thumb-head.

But his eyes, they were not calm and glassy with death. Instead they bulged in shock and terror. Because he knew what was coming, just as January did. January wished she could have closed her eyes to the horror, but she could not blind herself to the memory. Once more she was there, and watched as her nemesis was torn apart by his own summoning spell.

January snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see that it was Gadget. The young man leaned in close to her. She forced a smile to her lips, keenly aware that she was in public, and put it off as wool-gathering. But in private, she feared that her mind was not big enough for all the dead faces now crammed within it.

* * *

[Acadian]

A wonderful skytour as the Ravenwing carries its crew to Seattle.

I smiled at Jan’s perky babbling to Margaret. You show us that, although, she’s gained much confidence in public, she still struggles sometimes. And the task at hand was not an easy one.

A sobering thought as Jan ponders just how many dead faces she can cram in her head, for it is simply not her nature to embrace the ‘Just another corpse in my wake’ approach.

[Renee]

We appreciate your accuracy for quoted words, especially from douches like Jordan Peterson. The guy sucks but idiots like him make the story more riveting.

Oh, I understand that a shotgun to the back wouldn't do much to hurt Avery & Jan. It's just that moment of *shock* when the gun goes off. Even veteran cops in full-armor bodysuits dread that moment.

Uh oh. Hannah/Vortex. Again, her name comes up. I'm still a little bummed Jan didn't pick up the signals being sent from that femme in D.C., although that was a very busy day, of course.

Really dig your description of the Cascades area. Lived out there from '96 until 2004, it really is gorgeous to hike trails, without the east's humidity bearing us down with sweat.

Wow, the details of Seattle. I've always assumed a lot of buildings out there are newer also because of earthquakes. Not sure if Seattle went through as much devastation with quakes (and the resulting fires which followed) as San Fran, for instance.

Who is Renraku? Ah, Wikipedia to the rescue!. Not a 'who', more of a 'what'? I think. Mmmm.... Little confused by that article, but that's okay. I'd rather stick to The Stormcrow.

MeTube!

Yeah, the woman made me think of Avery's grandma as well. No, Jan's doing fine 'interacting with the public'. She's in better domain speaking to residents like this than she is notifying bigots for sure, squeaky phone voice and all.

WHOA, this is the daughter of the bomber's commander! Yeah this is a better notification for sure. Family's gathered around, lots of questions are getting answers, and so on.

Yikes, Jan's trippin at the end. Lots of stimuli this summer.


This post has been edited by Renee: Sep 1 2024, 04:57 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Making a long road trip to somewhere new seemed like the perfect way to bring the Ravenwing into the story more, and cement its position as the Alliance's new team vehicle. I am not sure why I picked Seattle. Maybe it was just lodged in my brain from so many years of playing Shadowrun (it is the main setting for the game).

I did pick Idaho on purpose for Bismarck's family. That area of the Pacific Northwest is brimming with white supremacists. One of their big dreams is for the entire region to secede and become a white christian ethnostate. They call it the Northwest Territorial Imperative.

Jan has a pretty high charisma attribute. It is just the product of being earnest, determined, and empathetic. But she could still stand to put some xp into raising her Speech skill, and maybe take a few perks in that tree. She probably will not do so any time soon. There are too many other things to learn for one. And for two it just makes her more relatable and sometimes adorable.

January is starting to finally realize that she has a problem, and that her PTSD is real. She's not there yet. But she is starting to acknowledge that she is very carefully avoiding the fact that she does not want to acknowledge that it exists.


Renee: Hannah's name does come up from time to time these days. But if you note, it is more and more rare, and comes with less and less pain. So January is getting better.

That is very cool that you lived in the Cascades! What were the mountains like? They seem strange to me. The pictures I see makes it look like they come in two levels, or tiers. It seems like most of the mountains are in a big long line of roughly equal height (around 8,000 feet I think). Then there are these occasional giants that rise up from among them like Mount Rainer that are nearly twice that in elevation.

Renraku is a fictional mega corporation in the RPG Shadowrun. They have a huge arcology in Seattle, and there was a major adventure/world event set there, where an AI took it over, killed everyone inside, and went to war with the world. I went back and added links to Renraku and Shadowrun.

I included Margaret and her family because I wanted to show that these death notices are not usually as hostile and hateful as the previous one with Bismarck's family. Really, people like Margaret are the reason January and company do everything they do.





Book 12.42 - Broken Arrow

August 26 (Monday)

The Sterling Heights City Courthouse was a nice, modern affair. The walls were painted a nice soothing baby blue, with a darker strip along the edge of the drop ceiling. The floors were covered in what felt like brand new carpet, in a nice gray and blue broadcast pattern, the kind January would expect from any modern office. It was all so very... nice, and new, and sparkling clean.

The bench that she sat upon was constructed from light brown pine. So too was the bar that separated the gallery where she sat from the litigation area. Across the wooden barrier were the two attorney's desks, a podium with a microphone, and finally the judge's bench. The latter was a wide, upraised island made of the same light pine. The judge loomed in its center, like a spider in the center of a pristine web. A witness box sat to one side of him, and a court reporter's station to the other. Finally a jury pool lay one wall over, filled with cushioned office chairs. Across the room from the jury box a wide screen television hung from one wall.

There was no jury today however. Instead the courtroom was filled with ordinary people like herself, who sat and waited in the gallery for their turns. As each was called, they went up before the judge for their various civil issues. As January waited, there was a dispute between someone and their landlord. Then came another person angry with a contractor they had hired to build an addition to the house, who had never finished it. It was all so inane that January did not really want to pay attention to any of it.

She passed the time as she always did in those dead times of the day. She meditated, and exercised her power. She controlled her breathing, and pulled up her mana within her body as she inhaled. It flowed through her body as she did, and filled her with power. Then she exhaled slowly. That allowed the energy to sprinkle down around her like rain, to be soaked up by the Earth below her feet. Then she inhaled again and drew the power back up through her body once more, and the cycle continued anew.

Avery fidgeted beside her and listened to music on his headphones. Her mother Barbara read a book. It was an old fashioned kind, made of paper and everything. It was a history book, about the Gracchi brothers and the rise of policing in Ancient Rome. That gave January a good idea of what her mother's next series on their podcast would be about.

Finally the court called out her own name: January Ward. She stood up and waited for the previous claimants to leave the litigation area. She glanced down at her mother and Avery, who both gave her encouraging smiles. Then once the way was clear, she walked past the bar and up to the podium before the judge's bench.

The court reporter recited her case number and the generalities of it. Specifically that she was petitioning to change her last name from Ward to Ryan.

"So, why do you want to change your name?" the judge did not quite glower down at January. But she was keenly aware of the height he sat at, which placed him above her and looking down. His black robes likewise lent him a visual cue of authority. This was only somewhat softened by the horn-rimmed glassed he wore, which looked like something Buddy Holly might have worn. His iron gray flat top hair style seemed to come from the same era as well.

"Well, your honor," January swallowed hard. Why did this make her more nervous than fighting literal Nazis? She imagined that it was because she could not solve this by punching the judge in the face if things did not go her way. "My parents got divorced recently. My mother changed her last name, back to her old name. To her maiden name I mean. I mean to her... Well, I want to change my last name to the same as hers too."

"Well that's seems like an admirable show of solidarity," the judge considered. "Didn't want to keep the old man's name?"

"He's a dick," January breathed. Only too late did she realize that it was loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and repeated around the courtroom. That brought some chuckles from the gallery behind her. January had to resist the urge to plant the palm of her hand against her face in horror at the faux pas.

But the judge simply chuckled as well. January briefly wondered if a case like hers—a simple name change—might come as a breath of fresh air after having to hear out so many petty grievances between people.

"Well in that case it seems like a good idea," the judge declared. Then his voice took a formal, official air. "Do you swear that you are not changing your name for fraudulent reasons, to evade criminal or civil charges, or escape financial responsibilities?"

"I swear." January insisted with certainty, and even held one hand up by reflex.

"Then by the power invested in me by the State of Michigan, I declare your name change to be legally binding. Congratulations Miss Ryan."

He then leaned down to sign the affidavit for her name change, which he passed to the clerk at his side. January stepped over to get it, and then moved out as the next set of plaintiffs came up for their case.

"You did it!" Avery grinned, and slapped her on the back as she returned to the gallery. That brought looks from everyone in the court, and he sheepishly raised his hands in contrition.

"I mean you did it," he whispered more quietly afterward.

"Way to go January." Barbara hugged her.

This was not the first time she had changed her name of course. The last time had been when she was twelve, and it had been a far more momentous occasion. That was when she transitioned, and changed her first name to January. This was much less spectacular of a change. But it still was an important one, at least in her mind.

Next up would be a round of trips to various state and federal agencies, with the proof of her name change. She had to update her birth certificate, her social security number, her driver's license, and so on. But before they could finish they had one important stop to make: Kell's house. Well, his parents' house at least.

That took them back to the old neighborhood in Warren. They went one street past January's old house, and Avery's current one. This was the street that Rus and Blackjack lived on. But they passed their houses, and only stopped at a yellow home with a single story. A rusty old Ford Explorer was parked in the driveway, stuffed to the gills with boxes and bags.

"You made it!" Kell cried as they pulled up. The full beard that the blond-haired youth wore belied his nineteen years. He opened up his arms to give January a gentle hug, followed by a manly, backslapping embrace for Avery.

"How did the name change go?" he asked.

"I am now officially January Ryan!" she beamed.

"Huzzah!" Rus cried out. Ryo was silent, and simply nodded his approval.

"Well, I got to get moving," Kell murmured. His parents moved in for their own goodbye hugs, and the young man finally climbed into his beat up old vehicle: the Kell Mech.

"Kick ass up there in Houghton!" Rus exclaimed.

"Yeah, you show them Yoopers up at Michigan Tech how we Trolls roll down here under the bridge!" Avery smiled.

January just smiled as one of her oldest friends in the world backed out the driveway and drove away. The Knights of Nerddom had just shrunk by another member. Blackjack was not there of course, because he was still off making his movie. Now Kell was gone to school Up North for his engineering degree.

Growing up was still taking some getting used to.

* * *

August 27th (Tuesday)

"Prisoner 8675309!" the guard's voice blared from the depths of a suit of powered armor. "Galbraith, Robert."

Reinhard stood up. He was not used to being referred to by his dead name, by his legal name. Ever since he had joined the Atomkrieg a few months earlier, he had been Reinhard. He had been transformed, purified. The weakness of modern life had been melted away, and his White spirit distilled down to its purest elements. Bismarck had made it so, when he had initiated him into their resistance cell.

But Bismarck was dead now, slyly murdered by that cowardly groomer Stormcrow. The Atomkrieg had died with him. All their plans, all their dreams to free the White Race, had been wiped away by the icy waters of the North Atlantic.

There would be vengeance, he silently vowed. He did not know how, or where, or when. But someday he would make them all pay for what they had done.

"Step forward prisoner."

Reinhard rose from the narrow cot in his cell, and took the two short steps to the Armex steel bars that blocked off the tiny cubicle. He found four prison guards waiting for him, all clad in humming powered armor. Two carried sparking shock sticks, while the other two wielded plasma cannons.

The cell door clattered to the side a moment later, and the armored guards stepped back. At their command he exited the cell and followed them through the block. More cells ringed the long rectangular hall. His eyes searched their contents for anyone he might know, such as Blitz or Tirpitz. But he had been separated from them the moment they had arrived at the Super Max prison. He had not seen them since.

He had no idea what was going on. The block was locked down, leaving them the only ones walking outside of the cells and guard pods. It was to one of the latter that the guards took him. They went through more force fields and heavily armored doors, down more reinforced bunker hallways, and finally to the same processing center where he had arrived a week before.

There he found himself signing for his possessions, which the clerk—a convict like himself—passed to him in a bag and envelope. The larger of the two held his black Atomkrieg uniform. The smaller paper envelope contained his wallet, ID, watch, and phone. At the guard's command, he changed out of his prison uniform, and into his old clothing.

The next thing he knew, they led him to another door, which seemed to be made of five feet of steel, surrounded by glowing force fields. Once the energy screens were deactivated and the massive vault door swung upon, he saw a parking lot and blue skies overhead.

"You must be the luckiest son of bitch in the world," one of the guards murmured. "I don't know where you got the money to for pay an attorney like the one that got you out. That's the kind only billionaires can afford."

The guard gave him a prod of his shock stick. It felt like a bolt of lightning had exploded into his back. Before he knew it, he fell forward, body contorted in agony. He dropped to his knees, and barely threw his hands out in time to prevent his face from planting into the asphalt of the parking lot. Behind him he heard the vault door clang shut, and then the hum of the force fields as they reactivated on either side of it.

He pulled himself to his feet, still feeling the after effects of the electricity jolting through his body. There was a man in a suit standing before him now. It was the kind that cost more than the trailer he had grown up in, probably more than the entire trailer park. Its owner wore a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses whose lenses were covered in solid white light from the sun's glare. His mouth widened into a shark-like rictus, and Reinhard had the distinct feeling that this was a man who devoured others for a living.

"Who are you?" Reinhard asked. "Did you get me out?"

"Mr. Galbraith... Reinhard," he said in a dead voice. "Call me... the Accountant. I represent a group of investors. We recognize your talents, and have further work for you."

"What kind of work?" Reinhard asked.

"Have you ever been to Detroit?" the mystery man said. "I understand that the dragon on Belle Isle is quite a remarkable sight."

* * *

[Acadian]

A couple of mundane but important events as Jan becomes a Ward like her mother and another member of her knights moves away from the Order of Nerddom. The details you provide help remind us that Jan balances another whole life besides that of Caped Crowsader.

Wow, that’s some serious security measures around Reinhard. And he’s getting out?!? Yikes! Oh, and it just gets better – he’s going to Detroit. Whatever is going on, I’d wager it can’t be good.


Nits:
Well, his parents {parents’?} house at least.
But they passed their houses, and only stopped at {a?} yellow home with a single story.

[Renee]

Let's see, where did we stay?

Absolutely true about Idaho being a haven for supremacists. Can remember driving through that one particular state on my way to Oregon, and seeing a very LARGE sign (a billboard) next to a motel which had a derogatory statement against native Americans. Of all states, too. I've driven through the Carolinas, Alabama Georgia, Texas (etc.) but the one state which had its racism out in the open was Idaho.

Pretty sure I got a photo of it, too. If I ever find it, I'll post it.

Mostly, the Cascades are standalones, at least in the Oregon/Washington area. Mount Hood is many miles away from Mount St. Helens which is many miles away from Mount Rainier, and so on. The rest of the land is relatively flat with rolling hills occasionally. It's not like the Rockies or the Appalachians, where the range is more continuous. Of course, it's because all of those Cascades are volcanos, slowly being forced up and up until one day... 🌋 But my personal experience was just driving out to Hood mostly, alone or with a friend, and then finding some trail to walk on. One time I encountered a brightly-colored salamander, right in the middle of the trail! This was on a cold, drizzly day. I had no idea amphibians could withstand such cold.

I have a memory of that particular day being the very last Seinfeld episode, which dates to May 14, 1998. I remember rushing home from Mt. Hood to watch it and it kinda was "meh" imo. Could've spent more time on the trail. Honestly, Larry David's bursts of creativity couldn't last forever!

Only went to St. Helens twice. One of the times, went with a girlfriend who convinced me to go caving with her, and I can say this; NEVER AGAIN! I assumed it would be like Mammoth Cave, touristy, well-lit caverns. But this was a real cave. Climbing through passages which we'd literally need to squeeze through. Stalactites and stalagmites. Getting into some chamber and seeing a huge boulder on the floor, and realizing I could see by the boulder's top shape, that it originally fit perfectly into the cave's ceiling, but an earthquake (maybe caused by the Big Explosion in the early 80s) knocked it down at some point. Keep in mind, all of this was in the Saint Helens region...

Yeah, I told Emily NEVER again, hon. I love you, but never again! -- One thing I liked though: you don't know real darkness until you've been in a real cave. Like, you cannot even see your hand in front of your face, as the saying goes. Because of that experience, this is why I prefer to darken videogame caves & mines so much.

And one more incident (sorry for blabbing). As I was driving Emily's car home, she in the passenger seat, flying along at about 60 miles per hour, all the sudden I see these 'shapes' in the road. It was foggy though, and for a split second I was thinking those are just tendrils of fog. But I slowed down anyway. And good thing, too. There was a herd of Moose, crossing the middle of the road. Just like in Northern Exposure, except in the middle of the night.

I included Margaret and her family because I wanted to show that these death notices are not usually as hostile and hateful as the previous one with Bismarck's family

No need to explain. I probably watched all the First 48 episodes back in the 2000s, most of the time notifications go just as they did with Margaret. Sadness / grief, not accusations against the notifiers. 👮 The bigots handled theirs in a very ... 'unique' manner, we'll just say. And thanks for explaining about Renraku.

----------

Whoa, they're in a courtroom but it's mundane. Sounds like Judge Judy without any of the humor or drama/pissy moments! Still, why is she in a courtroom?

Do you meditate, Florens? I do. It's nowhere near as spectacular as described with Jan, or what the swamis describe. Wish I could attain that. Guess that takes a lot of time / lack of distractions, of course. Not happening in suburban Ellicott City. Always a lawnmower / landscaping crew somewhere within earshot. Or even worse: leafblowers.

Mom is here, okay. They're in Michigan, then.

Oh crap, Jan's got a trial! Wonder what for? Okah, PHEW. Just a name change. For a sec was thinking someone had a lawsuit against our protagonist.

Buddy Holly rocked.

"He's a dick!" whoa! I mean he is, but whoa. Eaaasy there! - Judge is cool, though.

Robert Galbraith... ah, Reinhard. He's a in jail. Stormcrow's a 'cowardly groomer'... right. WHOA the guard shocks Reinhard!!

The Accountant gets the bigot free, wow. Looking forward to where this goes!

This post has been edited by Renee: Sep 9 2024, 06:05 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: January's mundane life goes on, even as her crow life does. I like writing these ordinary events, because they ground January in the real world. These are the sorts of things that happen to everyone. She's a person who sometimes wears a cape. She's not the cape itself.

And Reinhard is out and on the loose again, thanks to the help of the same man who Bismarck was working for (and who hired Nitokris to spy on him and stop him from getting those bombs). In a way this book was just a prologue. It was setting Reinhard up to become a mild level boss villain in the main story of the season, as he creates a neo-Nazi group in his own image. Their goal: to kill Stormcrow and the Alliance.

As ever, thank you for being my editor and finding those nits.


Renee: That caving sounds like it was quite the adventure! I have been to Mammoth Cave too, when I was a child. So I do not really remember much of it. Just that like you related, it was made for tourists to walk through, with lights and even guard rails in some places. Not a real struggle through total darkness, squeezing through cracks and crevices.

January's courtroom experience was based on a RL experience of mine. I went with a friend of mine who changed her name when she transitioned. I wrote the judge in January's case the same way I remember the real judge from my friend's case, looking like a guy from the 60s. When he asked why she as changing her name from her birth name (which was male) to her new name (which was a woman's), she explained that she had transitioned. The judge smiled and said that the new name definitely suited her better now. And that was it. Then she just had to do all that paperwork at different government agencies.

The Accountant is going to loom larger and larger in the books to come, and the people he represents. People like Bismarck and Reinhard are just the foot soldiers that they use to enact their agenda.





Lane State University can be found on the Stormcrow Map


Book 12.43 - Broken Arrow

August 28 (Wednesday)

Lane State University was not that much different from Macomb Community College after all. It was just bigger in every way. More programs, more buildings, more classes, Lane State had more of everything. Unlike the community college, it was not located within a single, self-contained campus however. Instead it was spread out across one corner of Detroit's Midtown neighborhood. I-94 and the Lodge freeways made for soft borders to the north and west. From there the university class, dorms, and other buildings sprawled out to the south and east along Woodward, Warren, and other avenues and streets.

Being bigger meant that Lane State was a lot busier than Macomb as well. Far more fellow students and faculty members rubbed shoulders with her as she moved from building to building, and class to class. Fortunately not all of them were strangers. Ryo was taking classes here as well. Unfortunately he was a STEM major, meaning he was taking completely different courses than she was. So she only saw him on the days that they both drove in together.

January had an hour between two of her classes, so she took a break in a small park ringed by classroom buildings. One of the many school libraries rose up on one side, the chem building was to another, along with information sciences, communications, and a fitness center. January could not deny the appeal of the latter. She had not been able to use a proper gymnasium with rings and uneven bars since leaving high school. It would be nice to work out on them again.

But it was not time for getting hot and sweaty. Not with another class coming up. Instead she settled in on a wooden bench to do some reading. It was only the first day, but she had homework to do already. Students and faculty both walked past her on the sidewalk. She noted that one person wore a brand new Stormcrow tee. It bore the same introspective picture Annie Leib had taken of her looking out the window across the front, while the name and website of the Transgender Equality Project was written across the back.

January smiled in spite of herself. The money from that shirt had gone to help someone just like herself, but with fewer options in life. Her trip to DC had definitely been worth it. Even without all the shenanigans with nuclear bombs. After all, it was just as important to make the world better as it was to prevent it from growing worse.

"Say, do you want to stick around? It's around dinner time. We could order something. You could just take a moment to unwind and recharge your batteries..."

Annie's words from exactly a week before came back to her, seemingly out of the blue.

"Oh, you have a roommate. Of course you do."

Sweet Freyja! Had Annie been thirsting for her?

No, that could not be. January shook her head. Women did not do that, not for her. She was probably just misremembering. She was not someone that anyone found attractive. Both high school and junior high school had made that very plain, thank you very much. There was no need to kid herself.

Sure, there had been that whole... whatever that was with Hannah. But look at how that had turned out. It had been a disaster, one that did not bear dwelling upon, much less trying to repeat.

She turned back to her electronic books. She did have studying to do. But for some reason, it was hard to focus on the pages on her screen. Before she knew it, she found herself tuning into everyone's favorite dirty secret podcast.

"Hello subscribers, this is Gilda Gadfly, and do I have the dish for you!"

Good, hearing about someone else's drama would be a nice way for January to take her mind off her own.

"By now we all know about how the unofficial Mid-Atlantic super team traded blows with a neo-Nazi terrorist cell known as the Atomkrieg at the Smithsonian a few days ago. They had the help of Ranger from the US Army, Detroit's loveable Crowgirl, and Calypso from the Caribbean of course. We also know how they later laid the watery smack down upon the same nasty Nazis at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, when the Atomic Kriegers tried to steal a pair of nuclear weapons from a crashed B-52 there.

The Mid-Atlantic supers are led by Silverlight of Washington DC, and include others from nearby cities, such as the train man Mercury from Philly, and Rebel Yell from Richmond. A new player in this game is the mysterious Hwarang. Who is this guy? What does his name mean? Why does he wear lipstick? Is he from an 80s hair metal band? You all are asking it, and Gilda has heard your cries dear listeners.

Yes, the Gadlfy has reached out to the amazing archer, and do I have the dish for you! Let's get right to it, straight from the Hwarang's mouth, as it were:

"When I was little they called what I am Intersex, now it's known as Differences in Sex Development, or DSD," a distinctly male voice came over the feed. From the change in audio quality, January could tell that it was from a previously recorded segment. "My exact diagnosis is not something I am going to get into. But suffice to say my chromosomes are not the same as most people's, and that has affected me physically."

"I never really had any intention of coming out to say any of this," he went on. "But the truth is the whole reason I became Hwarang is because of Stormcrow. Like her, I wasn't born with a body that fits who I am inside. I have had to spend a lot of my life trying to figure out who I am, and what I am supposed to be, in spite of how I was born. That by the way, is something other people seem awfully eager to dictate to me, even though they don't know a thing about me."

"In some ways, I'm a lot different from Stormcrow. I'm not technically trans, not in the way she is at least. It's... complicated. I'm not a woman. I'm a man. But if Stormcrow hadn't been such a vocal and visible member of our community, I wouldn't be doing this. She inspired me to do more, to be more. As part of that, I feel it's not only right, but necessary for me to come out and be open about my situation as well, just as she did. There are millions of other people like me with DSD just in the United States alone. They deserve to be seen, to make it plain that we are real, we are here, and we matter. We all matter."



Author's Note: This is the end of Book 12, and will be the last Crowpost for a while. I have the outlines for the next several books, but have only done a little actual writing on the next one. I am also considering doing several on Blood Raven's adventures in Boston as Corvus, which will have a much stronger Urban Fantasy emphasis. I prefer not to post anything until I am completely finished with a book, so it will be a while before January or Blood Raven return.

[Acadian]

School Daze for Jan.

Her thoughts on Annie reveal she still has work to do when it comes to self-confidence of the heart. She'll fearlessly wade into foes but fears dipping her toes into romantic waters. Although understandable, she’ll never know unless she looks into possibilities – like Annie. It takes courage to risk being hurt, but Jan is not one who lacks courage after all.

And Gilda dishes some on what makes up Hwarang.


Well, I’ll miss hearing about the Crowgirl until she’s back but look forward to perhaps a Boston story from Corvus. Like you, I’ve gone to fully drafting a book before announcing or beginning to post it. In fact, that is an approach I borrowed from you. I much prefer a ‘writing’ phase, followed by an ‘editing/posting’ phase.

[Renee]

Guess your friend didn't call anyone a dick in front of the judge! Anyway, that's awesome you were able to scribe that court experience into the story.


August 28, here we go. Alright, it's Back to School. (gosh that phrase... rgh). Anyway, back to college, which might be more daunting than fighting some monsters. How does one compartmentalize the slowing down of life after an entire summer of saving the world?

Ooooh yeah, Annie was thirsty alright. Dig it, hon. Women do indeed 'thirst', probably more openly nowadays. We just are more subtle about it. We can't just state our intentions usually, for fear of being branded sluts or whatever. Not unless alcohol and a bit of time is involved. ...So that's another superpower Jan might want to invest in, some sort of internal radar which blips when moments like that occur. Especially now she's surrounded by lovelies, some whom are more receptive.

Jan's getting distracted! I can only imagine. So glad we didn't have constant electronic gadgets in our day.

Silverlight. There is a Silverlight reference buried in the last Vicious. 🌔

Huh. Hwrang's got DSD, never heard of this term.

Hey, we're out of Books! What a surprise. It's a good one, though. I'm always switching stories, seasonally. Don't know how it is for you, but it's usually good to switch gears. Take a break from posting. Just 'cause of perspective. I dunno, hard to explain. But for instance going from the olden-type language of Laprima to using terms which are modern to our times .... it feels fresh. Then again, seems you're constantly writing behind the scenes. Not taking any breaks, etc.

I had a feeling Branwen might return at some point. We shall see.


This post has been edited by Renee: Sep 15 2024, 01:26 PM