I love this choice of costume for Ariel, done by Princess of the North! And look at her feet! Brilliant design choice. Her boyfriend makes an excellent classic Prince Eric.
Things Nobody Tells You About Babies – Sounds
Everyone talks about the screams and eventual giggles from babies. Sometimes they’ll mention cooing noises etc., but no one mentions all the weird and creepy noises that they make on a near constant basis.
These are, of course, only a few of the weird sounds Baby Dragon has made.
1. Puppy Pant
Like an over excited puppy, she suddenly starts to pant when she knows she’s going to be fed. It’s adorable and kind of makes us wonder if we got a puppy instead of a baby.
It’s sometimes paired with a whine or whimper that is a lot like a new puppy.
2. Growling
She doesn’t just do a small growl but a guttural near feral growl that can be a little intimidating.
She does this when she’s falling asleep or fighting sleep. Maybe she’s taking her nickname too seriously.
3. Happy Printer
While feeding, she makes a high pitched contented whirring noise that is reminiscent of an old printer. The kind that had holes on either side of the paper.
4. Demon Summoning
Late at night as we’re about to fall asleep, her growling turns into a weird chant like noise. I keep expecting to hear the word Chuthulu in there somewhere.
5. Impossible noises
When she feels like it she’ll make noises that should be physically impossible for a human voice. Some of these include:
- A deflating balloon
- A tropical bird
- Kitten meowls
- Creaking door
Everyday she seems to add a few new sounds… It’s fascinating and a little scary.
Later Days,
Éric
Blush Guest Post: Intro to BDSM
For the next few weeks, both Blush posts and Fandom Travel posts will be guest posts. Thank you to the contributors! If anyone else is interesting in writing for either of these topics (and it can easily be kept anonymous!) please send me an email to jenericdesigns@gmail.com and we can discuss which topic you’d like to write about.
This week’s guest post is written anonymously by kitten. Please respect their privacy by not trying to guess who they are.
I guess preconceived notions about what someone would look like when they live a certain lifestyle come with everything: you expect a high powered executive to always be dressed in a suit with shiny shoes, a plumber to have pants that can’t stay up and someone in the BDSM lifestyle to look edgy with lots of tattoos and always in leather with a very obvious collar on their neck. I’m probably the furthest from what you’d expect, and aside from the black ribbon around my neck and the ring that says “collared” as well as my Dom’s fingerprint engraved into it, you’d probably never know that my Dom and I are in the scene.
I didn’t intend to become a part of this lifestyle. I actually remember very well when it piqued my interest: I was sitting in a summer course, chatting with a male friend of mine while another student was doing a presentation (yes, I know I should have been paying attention, but I still got a great mark in that class). My male friend started to tell me about some of the exploits he and his girlfriend had been trying out. The more he told me, the more questions I had for him, and the more curious I was about it. I did what any good student did: I researched. I found blogs and books and devoured them all. The more I read, the more I felt like something clicked inside: this fits me.
But all of the research and reading in the world couldn’t give me the experience that would prove that I wasn’t just enthralled by the idea of it all. I needed to try it out with a partner. I brought up the idea to my then fiance, and while he tried once to give me what I was asking for, it always felt like he was just playing a part. I needed to be with someone that was inherently Dominant. Someone that had the knowledge, the intuition, that it was as much of a part of them as their eye colour is. It wasn’t until I separated from my ex-husband that I was finally able to get that experience.
I didn’t choose the best person for that first experience; I chose the most convenient person. Considering they are very well known in the area, I’ll keep the details to myself other than saying be very, very careful about choosing a play partner. There are a number of people masquerading as “Dominants” who are just emotional manipulators. Listen to your instincts and talk to other people that know them. Get references. (Sounds extreme, but if you’re into extreme play, it is very important.)
All that said, I’m happy to have discovered that this is part of my sexuality. My current partner and I are in a 24/7 relationship, though we don’t always have kinky sex. If asked, I will tell you, though I don’t shout my sexual tendencies from the rooftops. My belief is that what happens in my bedroom is my business between my partner and myself and that I do not need anyone else’s opinions or judgements there.
As much as sexuality and gender identity can run across the spectrum, so can the degrees of what people consider to be “kinky” sex. Our version of kink includes bondage, pain play like hair pulling or biting, and impact play like spanking (either hand or with an implement like a crop or a whip), and exhibitionism. These kind of scenes take a while to set up and get ready, which doesn’t always make them feasible when we both work long days. It’s easier when we go to a BDSM club in town (yes, Ottawa has them; don’t look so shocked) because they have the set up for crosses, ceiling hooks for suspensions, tables, etc all set up.
When we do play, we use a pretty easy set of safe words: green, yellow, and red. They work just as you think they would; green is good to go, yellow is slow down and give me a bit of a break, red is STOP. We decided that these work best for us because it is what Dungeon Masters (safety/security monitors that makes sure everyone plays safely) in clubs ask for. It just made sense so we wouldn’t have to try and adjust our usual play for a night out.
Never, NEVER play with someone that won’t let you use safe words unless you have talked about it extensively beforehand. Part of the appeal of BDSM is that element of danger in a safe space, much like riding a motorcycle. But you or your partner could be seriously hurt (physically, mentally, and/or emotionally) if you don’t use a safe word and continually check in. I know some people have been with their partners for so long that they don’t use safe words any longer, and that some Dom/mes (typically, Dom means males and Dommes means females, but there are any number of titles for both, as well as for non-binary Dominants) won’t let their submissives use them; those are not people that I would ever consider playing with and I’d suggest the same for anyone new to the scene.
There are some BDSM elements that are a part of my daily life: my Dom gets a picture of my outfit every day to approve before I leave the house, I always have to wear my day collar when I’m out and away from him, and he always needs to know where I am, who I am with, and when to expect me home. I have different rules when we are out in scene: I don’t talk to anyone without his approval first, I don’t make eye contact with other Dom/mes, I wear my play collar and my leash is attached to him unless one of us is going to the bathroom. If it’s me, he waits outside the bathroom for me, if it’s him, he will give me leash to either a Dom he trusts or a Dungeon Master in a club. Some days I act like a bit of a brat and push back and argue with him about my rules; that usually results in a punishment spanking for me. That said, when I am truly upset or aggravated about one of my rules, he is ALWAYS willing to discuss it. Having the door open for communication is of primary importance for us both.
I imagine that my sexuality and turn ons will always evolve and change, and I’m open to that. Being aware of who I am, of what I want and need, took me a long time to accomplish, so I wear my Day Collar with pride. As Dolly Parton said, “Find out who you are and do it on purpose.”
Jen has graciously offered to be a conduit for any questions that may pop up, and I’m happy to answer the best I can. If I feel like it is out of my realm of knowledge, I’ll try to help you find a good resource.
That’s my view; have fun, and play safely.
– kitten
A good resource for people with questions would be FetLife. You will be required to sign up to access it.
Another great resource is A Submissive’s Initiative. There are tons of resources to be found through this page as well.
Gladiators in SPACE! – Part 4
I was sleeping off my fight with the wolves when a woman who had more cybernetic implants than I had thought possible came to see me.
She looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place her. She looked at me with a combination of anger and embarrassment. “I’m dying,” she said and she was right. As I probed her mind I could see that it was failing, as were all her cybernetics.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Despite what I’ve done?” That’s when I recognised her. She was Samantha, the assassin trainer from the Maidens of the Antichthon. I thought she’d been killed by Suzie when they’d escaped the Maiden’s mother ship.
“I’ll do what I can.” She lay on the ground and I placed my hands on her. I could feel her body dying and rejecting the cybernetics that kept her alive at the same time. I have pretty powerful healing powers but what happened next was a shock to me.
I concentrated on healing and felt the warmth of Sol wash over me. That’s the part where I burst into flames and need new clothes. This was different than normal, more intense, like I was healing more than one person.
As I healed her I felt everything that had happened to her. They’d brought her back to life and punished her for failing to stop us. They’d taken her apart piece by piece, including parts of her mind. The made sure to dig out the pieces of her mind that had any information on the Maidens. She’d been a horrible person but no one deserved what they did to her.
When the healing was over I was shocked to see two bodies. One was Samantha, put back together and the other was her cybernetics. They had become self-conscious and were accidentaly killing her by trying to become indipendant. There was an allegory in there that I’d have to remember for later.
Both looked up at me and smiled. The cybernetic one cocked her head to the side and said, “I’m a robot. Fascinating.”
***
It took another month for the fighters to open up to me. Each owner owned a couple hundred fighters and there were hundreds of owners. Some of the owners were based on the Mederei, others went from ship to ship. Owners never let their fighters fight each other, which meant I had a hard time getting in contact with my Barsoonian friend.
The more I fought the more people seemed to like me and I started getting gifts. They were indulgences from silk sheets to alcohol and everything in between. I gave it all away except for any chocolate or coffee; I have my vices. The more I fought, the more I had things to trade or give away.
The alcohol was particularly useful for trading. As a mild telepath and strong precognitive, it’s a terrible idea to drink. Alcohol breaks down walls as well as inhibitions. When I studied at the Psionic Clan Academy, I’d gotten drunk and spent the next two days in the hospital seeing one person’s possible lifetimes over and over again. They had to put me into a medically induced coma to save my life. The Psionic Clans may be no better than common thugs with super powers, but they take care of their own. Thankfully they didn’t know I wasn’t one of them.
The alcohol got me a special training session with my friend.
“You again. What do you want?”
“Do you know who I am? I’m here to save you and bring you back to your people.”
They looked around at the guards and locked doors, cocked an eyebrow and said, “Right, what’s your plan? Going to just teleport me out?”
“So you do know who I am. Teleport is out of the question. They have blockers all over the ship.”
“Of course I know who you are, Hal Sun-Speaker. I’m Aly. Why do you want to save me?”
“I’m not the Sun-Speaker. I’m just Hal. I’m here to save you because it’s what Sol wants and it’s what Mars needs.”
“Why in the nine hells would Mars need me?”
“Something is coming and Mars needs to be united. The future Emperor will need you to advise him.” I waved away any questions and asked one of my own, “How many Martians are on this ship?”
“Maybe a couple of thousand…” They looked confused.
“It’s not enough. We need more people.” I started wondering if the other people would help Martians or if humanities natural, and idiotic, racism would get in the way.
Aly laughed a deep rumbling laugh as if I’d said something hilarious, “It’s true what they say about you. The seer who doesn’t see himself.”
“What?” I hate being confused or surprised, it’s just not right and hurt my fragile ego.
“Just because the church disowned you doesn’t mean those who believe in Sol have.” Seeing my puzzled face they added, “Many believe you’re the true word of Sol and would follow you. On this ship, those who’ve seen both your power and your humanity would follow you out an airlock. You say you don’t have enough people but you have an army.”
“An army of gladiators might be useful…” The idea that I had an army made my skin crawl. I don’t like blind obedience, which is why I filled my crew with people way smarter than me, and almost as stubborn. I didn’t want an army but I could use one.
“It’s not just the gladiators.”
If you like this story, why not read the rest of the stories in the Sun Speaker Universe ?
Madona Skaff-Koren
At Can-Con over the weekend of September 9-11, 2016, we had the opportunity to meet some incredible people. Madona Skaff-Koren (Twitter, website) is one of those. She is a mystery author published by Renaissance Press (Twitter, website), and incredibly amazing to talk to! You can meet her at the Mega-Multi-Author Launch happening Oct 29, 2016.
John Rhys-Davies
John Rhys-Davies was warm and talkative with everyone in line. A real class act!
We had planned on asking him something, and promptly forgot when he noticed Jen was pregnant. He asked if it was our first, and said we were in for a treat. He said his only regret was not having more children. It was hard to concentrate, we were so mesmerized by his voice.
He loved the TARDIS and was impressed that Jen had designed the pattern herself. He told us about one of his first roles in theatre. The director saw him reading a book between rehersals, and got really huffy. Apparently this director thought reading was overly intellectual, and did not like intellectuals. (*eyeroll*) Mr. Rhys-Davies asked one of the actresses to teach him how to crochet, and during that run, he crocheted his son’s first baby blanket!
It was so fantastic to talk with this amazing man!
Ten Days of Fatherhood
Hello My Imaginary Friends,
Just a short break between episodes of Gladiators in SPACE!
I have officially been a father for ten days. So much and so little has happened since she was born. In an attempt to avoid rambling too much I’ll separate this into parts.
Birth
A theme this past ten days has been, “I thought I understood what was going to happen, but I didn’t.”
The birth and labour was much longer than I expected and very different. I won’t go into details, but despite all our preparation we had no clue.
When I saw the little wriggling baby for the first time I didn’t experience what a lot of people had described. I didn’t instantly fall in love, I didn’t just know, etc. I just saw an adorable baby that vaguely looked like her mother. I instinctively wanted to protect her, but I get that with all babies. There was nothing spiritual or magical.
All the love and the urge to make everything better for her came slowly over time. It started when we first learned she existed and continued to grow. It’s still growing now.
I think even if she weren’t my child, I’d find her adorable. She makes these little snuffling noises, squeaks, and mini-roars that sound just like what I’d imagine a little Dragon would sound like.
Imposter Syndrome
In case you don’t know what Impostor Syndrome is, it’s “an inability to internalize […] accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a ‘fraud’.”
It’s most common in artistic people from what I’ve seen. I sometimes wonder how long it’ll take people to realize that it was mistake to publish me. By the way, check out A Study in Aether and leave reviews on Goodreads or Amazon. Ahem…
I’ve found the same sort of feeling with Dragon. One moment I’ll be changing her diapers and the next I’ll wonder when her real parents are coming to take her home. It’s like my brain is unable to fully comprehend that we’ve created a human and are now responsible for her. It’s terrifying.
There’s a disconnect between understanding the principles of making and having children and truly internalizing the information.
I’m told that the Parental Impostor Syndrome goes away eventually. Hopefully the other one will as well, but it’ll probably take longer.
Sleep and Doing stuff
Everyone warned me that once the baby would be around, there would be no time for sleep or anything else. So far we’ve been lucky; she’s sleeping 2-4 hours in a row between feedings. I can’t imagine doing this and going to my full time job, but I’ve been able to do a few little things here and there on projects.
The first few days I felt utterly lost and a little panicked but we’ve been introducing elements of routine into our days and that’s making me feel better.
As she grows older, we’ll try to instill a nice routine into her life as well and we can hope that will prevent us all from having more trouble than we already are.
Friends and Family
I’m a shameless optimist when it comes to the human race and the innate goodness in each of us. That being said, I’m extremely insecure and have as a default assumption that everyone dislikes me. (It’s unfounded and silly but my brain is a jerk.)
Our friends and family have been absolutely amazing. Any and all support we need is there and we greatly appreciate it. You are all amazing!
Godparents
We thought long and hard about who and what we wanted for our little Dragon’s Godparents.
We narrowed down the criteria to someone who:
- was spiritual or had a good academic knowledge of world religions;
- could teach her things she won’t learn in school;
- was a good person and role model;
- who would take the job seriously; and
- who could be friend and confidant that wouldn’t have an issue telling us if we were being unfair.
In the end we chose her Aunt Lindsay, who’s one of the most good and genuine people I know, and S.M. Carrière, who’s a wonderful person with a lot to share with Dragon. I know both will be there for her and make sure she grows up to be an awesome person.
Read S.M. Carrière’s post about it that made both Jen and I cry.
There’s a lot more I could write but I’ll stop there.
Later Days,
Éric
Fandom Guest Post: UK Road Trip Part 1
Jasmine Murray-Bergquist is a costume designer, bookworm, amateur archer and all-around geek. Her body lives in Ottawa while her mind is consistently elsewhere. Her website can be found here, and you can follow her on Twitter!
My sisters and I have always been big dreamers. I wouldn’t say any of our dreams are too big, but as we have more dreams than are possible to fulfil in one lifetime, some of our childhood plans and ambitions got shelved indefinitely at a young age.
That changed this spring. When my sister Karin was invited to present a paper she wrote at an academic conference in Kirkwall, Orkney, we jumped at the chance to make one of those long lost ideas a reality. As voracious readers and lovers of a good road trip, we decided that after the conference we would rent a car and tour around England, making pilgrimages to the homes of some of our most beloved authors. With the expert help of Jen, before I knew it, everything was booked and we were ready to go.
Even after talking about doing a trip like this for years, the reality far surpassed anything I’d ever imagined.
I arrived in Edinburgh on a cool, rainy, April morning. With 13 hours to kill before Karin arrived (and three days before my luggage arrived, but that’s a different story!), I went exploring. My destination was a place that is truly somewhat of a holy site for me. A place that would be the perfect spot to start the Author Tour. A place where a young single mother unknowingly created the foundation of my childhood, changing my life forever.
The Elephant House is an unassuming place tucked neatly into a historic street front in Edinburgh’s Old Town. Many authors have frequented the cafe over the years including Ian Rankin and Alexander McCall Smith, but it’s best known for being the place where J. K. Rowling sat and wrote Harry Potter. I got goosebumps as I walked in, although that could’ve been the chill of the Scottish fog sinking through to my bones. With a pot of Earl Grey tea and an elephant shaped shortbread cookie, I settled into an empty seat by the front window. The cafe was crowded with people trying to find relief from the rain and wind. The hubbub of conversation, the clinking of teacups in saucers, the tinkle of the bell above the door as people came and went, all the sounds, smells, and sights wound their way into my consciousness, and it was a few minutes before I was even aware that I was writing.
I sat for a minute, staring down at my notebook and the paragraphs I’d just written, and suddenly I understood why Edinburgh is known for being a city for writers and artists. It immediately gets inside you, filling you with inspiration. It forces you to create. There is magic lurking under every cobblestone, stories whispering at you from every doorway. It doesn’t just give you the desire to write, it gives you the need.
The next morning Karin and I started our journey north by train. The next few days were very focused on the conference, although we did find a couple of author moments amidst all the learning. In Inverness, we found a plaque commemorating William Topaz McGonagall. If you haven’t read the poem “The Tay Bridge Disaster”…well, just go read it, and it will become very clear why McGonagall is known as the worst poet ever. Luckily for him he was rich, and able to pay people to put up with his readings. When we reached beautiful, mystical, magical Orkney, we discovered the world of George Mackay Brown. A famed poet, novelist, and dramatist, he also wrote many short stories and essays. His work is everywhere, especially in Stromness, his hometown.
From Orkney, we took the train back south to Glasgow, where we picked up the car and hit the open road. Karin was a fantastic co-pilot (her Chewbacca impression is second to none) and navigated us perfectly out of Edinburgh and along the winding country roads to the small western Scottish town of Ayr. That was where we stayed that night, but our goal in Ayrshire was the nearby village of Alloway, birthplace of poet, lyricist, whiskey advocate, and great seducer – the Bard of Ayrshire, Robert Burns.
If you ever have the chance, the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum is so very much worth the visit. It’s fantastically laid out and a veritable wealth of information on the life and times of Burns and his family. Interactive and educational, there was so much to do and so many ways to immerse yourself in the times and ways of late 1800s Scotland. The panels are all peppered with Scots words (the language Burns wrote in and fought to keep alive), which is a really fun way of learning the language along with the details of Burns’ life.
Outside the museum there is a path that winds through a field marked by metal artwork depicting the story of Tam O’Shanter, one of Burns’ most famous poems, as well as a giant mouse (a nod to Burns’ To A Mouse). The path takes you to the small cottage where Burns was born, kept as it was when he was a child there. As you walk back to the museum, if you take the road instead of the path, you pass by the Alloway kirk (church), which is where poor unfortunate Tam sees all manner of horrible supernatural creatures whooping it up as he tries to get home from the pub one night. Even it broad daylight, our skin prickled imaging the witches, goblins, and tortured ghosts as we peeked into the ruins.
We spent far, far too much time there, but it was so wonderful. From Ayr we turned south, driving down the ruggedly stunning west coast of Scotland, before turning east and working out way into the Lakes District. This stunning region was the inspiration for one of my father’s favourite books from childhood, “Swallows and Amazons” by Arthur Ransome. My dad read it to my sisters and I when I was probably 8 or so and we immediately fell in love with it. Written and set in the 30s, it’s the story of the four Walker children who spend their summers sailing their borrowed boat the Swallow around an unnamed lake in the Lakes District, where they meet the two Blackett children, who have a boat of their own – the Amazon – and are pirates. We used to sail all around the lake where my grandparents live when we were kids, so both the sailing and the imaginations of the kids utterly captivated us.
While the lake in the books is never explicitly named, people believe that it’s based on Coniston Water, so that was where we went after a beautiful night in the nearby town of Grasmere (where we took a quick wander around the grounds of Dove Cottage, where the Wordsworths lived and wrote). Coniston Water is the third largest lake in England, at five miles long but only a half mile wide. A kiosk down by the shore rents out all manner of boats, and soon we were zipping down the lake in our very own Swallow. The feeling was glorious. The boat hummed as we skipped along under the watchful eye of the Old Man of Coniston, the mountain that looms large over the water. The energy of the experience and the powerful beauty of our surroundings soon put us in a creative mood again, and we sailed for miles while developing a very complex story (which I’m very grateful to Karin for writing down the details of in the car as we drove after). In theory we had the boat for two hours, in reality, we ended up staying out there for more like three and a half. The thing about a skinny lake is as easy as it is to sail down, when you have to tack short tacks back and forth all the way back, it takes a hell of a lot longer!
The common theme we had through the trip was getting so caught up in what we were doing that we took too long at our stops, meaning we arrived later at our final destinations. Especially on our way out of Cumbria, we had to stop to see Hill Top, which is where Beatrix Potter lived and wrote. But despite the detours and the late hour, driving through Yorkshire at sunset was nothing short of breathtaking. It was like driving through a James Herriot story: the farmers in their tweed caps, the sheep wandering unsupervised beside the country road, the moon hanging low in the purple twilight as the lights of the village in the valley come on, it was too perfect for words.
That night, we arrived in Haworth. I could feel my heart rate quickening as soon as we arrived. Our hostel was a Gothic mansion on a hill outside the village and it was the perfect setting to get us in the mood for the part of the trip that we were possibly the most excited for.
Stay tuned for Part 2 on November 9th!
If you are interested in booking a trip to like this.Jen has retired from working as a travel agent. Hope you’ve enjoyed Fandom Travel.
Gladiators in SPACE! – Part 3
I knew the wolves were bioengineered since wolves don’t normally have horns on either side of their heads and these ere two metres tall.
They didn’t look happy; on the contrary they looked hungry. I did the only sane thing and ran towards them. It worked and the wolves scattered. It must have been a funny scene because the crowd started laughing.
Sol gives me a lot of guidance and a lot of information but he’s pretty skimpy when it comes to solutions. I knew I needed to survive and save my new Martian friends. They would be important to Sol’s plan, I think.
Lifting my hands above my head I projected my voice, “Friends, Romans, Spectators; tell me what you want! Should I kill these mindless and innocent beasts?” The crowd roared, my heart palpitated at the sound of that many people cheering. When they quieted down I asked, “Or would you rather watch me be devoured?” There was a pause. The crowd wasn’t sure how to react. The wolves, however, howled.
Turning to the wolves, I shook my head dramatically and shushed them saying, “We know what you want.” Again the crowd laughed. I had them right where I wanted them. “My friends. I am not a fighter. I am a prophet abandoned by his church. But the church isn’t the God and I don’t like killing.” I put special emphasis on the “I”. These games were being recorded and could be watched as vids across the system. If I could piss off the church a little I’d be more than happy.
Wolves are not patient animals and the leader of their pack, or the least patient one, what do I know, charged at me. As his great bulk and sharp teeth came towards me, I could only admire the quality of its teeth. Its friends started moving cautiously towards me.
“Stop!” I commanded mentally. When Sol choses a Sun-Speaker, he always chooses someone with telepathic talent, it’s the only way that he can communicate with them. Humanity has limited telepathic abilities and they’ve only been appearing for a few thousand years. I’m convinced that’s why the first Sun-Speaker was chosen two thousand years ago and not earlier.
The wolves all stopped at my order, except for the one charging at me. I needed to stop him quickly to prove to the others that I was the one they should follow. I concentrated in the same way as I had with the Barsoonian, only this time I didn’t go easy. I fully powered my fusion blast and looked at the crowd, “You want death? Fine, have death!” I made sure it was a short blast, no use blowing a hole in the ship, and it disintegrated the wolf, leaving a pile of ash.
The crowd took a collective gasp, the wolves bent their heads and whimpered, and I fought back tears. The poor animal was just doing what it had been bred to do. Telepathically talking to the wolves I said, “Its ok. Food is coming.”
One of the wolves moved towards me; I waited and let it sniff my hand. It licked my hand and nuzzled me. Not an easy feat with its horns. The crowd went wild.
A loud siren told to crowd to be quiet and my new owner, who was apparently the governor of the ship, said, “You are a nuisance but I expected something like this. Send in the pirates.”
Three men walked out of the gladiator gates. They were the space pirate brothers Adam, Aaron, and Alvin. I’d infiltrated their crew once to save a friend. It hadn’t ended will for the brothers. I guess it still wasn’t going well.
They looked pissed and smug, “We meet again Hal. Now you’ll finally get what you deserve.” They weren’t the brightest pirates in the solar system. I’ll spare you the details of the rest of the fight, it wasn’t pretty. Let’s just say the crowd got its violence and the wolves got their meal.
The showing off had taken a lot out of me. I managed to fake being ok until I got back to my cell. Once alone I threw up and passed out, thankfully in that order.
The fights continued along the same vein with me showing off and trying to kill as little as possible. The real work was getting Henrick and the other gladiators to trust me. The ludum wasn’t like jail, you don’t fight anyone unless you have too and no one expects you to be tough outside the arena. It’s a sort of unwritten rule that we’re all going to die in there either way.
If you like this story, why not read the rest of the stories in the Sun Speaker Universe ?
Melissa Yi
At Can-Con over the weekend of September 9-11, 2016, we had to opportunity the meet some incredible people. Melissa Yi (Twitter, website) is one of those. She is an M.D. and author, and incredibly amazing to talk to! You can meet her at the Mega-Multi-Author Launch happening Oct 29, 2016.