Mock Trial

There are two sorts of people in the world: people who are not involved in a legal proceedings, who think that the law is somewhat ridiculous; and people who are involved in legal proceedings, who think that the law is of the utmost seriousness. However, it can’t be denied that there are sometimes cases that tickle my fancy; although not always for the reasons they please most.

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Hunters of the Free Tsar

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

T’kjun pressed his flippers to the ice, shooting forward to the base of the berg. Harpoon cinched tight, he clambered up. The five heads that had shattered the ice had gone—for now. The tribe relied on him to find the bounty exposed by the breaking and to give warning if the five heads returned. He would not fail them.

Beak jutting, he crested the ridge and stopped in awe. Aqua green skin with markings of brown and beige. A mighty Vy’un Etta, flanks barely dusted with frost.

Raising his harpoon above his head, he signalled the mammoth handlers to advance.

The Call of Cabbage

Even the most cursory internet search for HP Lovecraft is likely to uncover a fresh-to-the-searcher article or discussion of his racism: he was objectively racist; he was a product of his time; he was more racist than his time; he was a racist but his works aren’t; and so forth. I suspect the broad questions of cultural relativism might never be answers satisfactorily, but what if he objectively wasn’t racist? What if he was actually anything but prejudiced?

No More Shadows

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

A thousand feet scurry past.

Have you ever paused to appreciated a foggy night? The gentle caress of nothing across your skin?

Or smiled as the rain washed away the scurrying?

Can you imagine what it’s like to hear every heartbeat, see every pulse, in a world where everyone shouts and waves each moment to the heavens?

In my prime, I lurked in the shadows. Servants brought me swooning maidens. But there are no shadows left. And even swooning is done loudly.

Do you understand why I flee the sun?

The children of the day, what dreadful cacophony they make.

The Answer to Every Investigator’s Worst Nightmare

Do you find yourself needing to display the power and majesty of the Empire, without causing the more delicate members of your expedition to swoon at the sight of your power and majesty? I might have the solution.

AerntszoonNightshirtAged

I know I’ll be happier during an attack by chthonic entities knowing I don’t have to choose between taking the time to dress and having my valet shave me. And, as one of the first ten purchasers, the tailor added Tillighastification at no extra charge; so I’ll be equally protected against non-corporeal entities.