They did not overlook the Sole Survivor. They weren’t thwarted, either: They could have broken through that barricade in less than a moment. Almost less than a thought.
Just to be clear on that.
Tag: microfiction
Patreon Microfiction: The Foyer.
I would like to tell the story of what happened when we showed up at the Amalgamation’s welcoming center, only to discover that it was an abattoir and so was the rest of the Galaxy. Alas, that’s the story, right there. Everybody was dead, and none of the discoverers were never going to figure out why. So we’re left with stuff like ‘The Foyer.’ Frozen moments of horror, suspended in time forever.
Patreon Microfiction: No, Really, Never You Mind.
No, Really, Never You Mind. Dryads in mythology can be incredibly touchy creatures. All nymphs and female nature spirits, really. If they’re not being in a killing mood, you probably shouldn’t try to change that by asking impertinent questions.
Patreon microfiction: ‘All the Reason I Need.’
We ever get off this rock, “All the Reason I Need” will at some point become historical fiction. “Because I felt like it” and “You ain’t the boss of me” covers so many situations, doesn’t it? …As well it should.
Patreon Microfiction: He Wasn’t Really Fitting In.
“He Wasn’t Really Fitting In” isn’t about Even Evil Has Standards. It’s about Even Evil Recognizes That The System Has To Work. There are times when the best thing an entity can do for an organization is to explode, in a fashion that takes out a few of the enemy, too.
Patreon Microfiction: “Only Six Hours? A NIGHT?”
“Only Six Hours? A NIGHT?” is very firmly in the ‘Humans are Space Orcs’ tradition of modern Internet fiction. I enjoy that genre very much, by the way. The trick is to find something new that works as a hidden superpower.
Microfiction: Detachment of the Grave.
Zombies never made as much sense to me as revenants do. I can buy the idea of a spirit taking control of its old body and piloting it with the, ah, detachment of the grave more than I can really believe in a shambling zombie with a hunger for brains and warm flesh. The latter just seems to require more steps, I guess.
Anyway.
Patreon Microfiction: Let Sleeping Djinni Lie.
I cannot counsel that enough. Let Sleeping Djinni Lie. Wishes are dangerous.
Patreon Microfiction: Ain’t Your Business.
He provides a necessary and valuable service for the community. He does not overcharge for his services. He is scrupulous in adhering to local law, customs, and moral codes. So, indeed, what he does with the fruits probably Ain’t Your Business.
Patreon Microfiction: Beneath Their Notice.
“When elephants fight, the grass suffers.” The conceit of “Beneath Their Notice” is that the grass has an opinion about that. And possibly even a response.