April 6, 2020
The sprouts are here
Bidden by our hand
Stretching out from seed
To sky
Is it vain to hope that
They grow strong and tall
Bearing such fruit
That branches droop
For we have never needed
More urgently than now
Food to spring forth
From a loving earth
April 5, 2020
Of all the amh, birds that were neither predator nor prey to the sparrows, the iparral, or cardinals, were the most likely to treat with sparrows and not to fight with them. So long as there was ample food, the cardinals and their brides would suffer the sparrows to be near them and to converse.
So Lwyr sought their counsel, specifically that of Rreko, a cardinal who had lived in the area for many years and had raised three broods a year, like clockwork, with his bride.
“Tell me, please, if you have a moment, what I should do about the nest-intruders, the cowbirds,” Lwyr said. “They have laid their egg in my beloved’s nest, and she is beside herself with worry.”
Rreko cracked an oily seed open with his great orange beak and chewed on the contents, meditatively. “They have bedeviled us more and more,” he said. “But we accept it as a fact of life.”
“What happens with the chicks you raise?” Lwyr pressed. “What happens as they grow?”
“We do our best with them, and they care for us in their fashion, but they always speak in a foreign tongue from the nest, it seems, and when our fledglings scatter they never return, seeking instead their own kind. I suppose all sons and daughters are the same, in that way.”
“What if they could be made to stay, for us that flock?”
“Well, they do flock sometimes, usually in the spring, but they are such rude, garrulous creatures that they would not fit in with a flock so…delicate…as yours.”
“What if they could?”
“I would say that is a fool’s dream,” Rrenko said, cracking another nut. “It is as if asking what if the sun were edible.”
April 4, 2020
Like their close cousins, the apoc, the symph are tall and proud, equally at home as farmers or warriors. But unlike the individualistic apoc, who move about singly or in small bands when they are not living as the guests of others, the symph are a mutualistic species–the Sisterhood, as they called themselves.
Building great hive-cities, the symph were ruled by a queen that was mother to nearly the entire population, though some would have co-regent daughters to smooth the transitions between generations. Males were rare, and though they were stronger than females and made excellent warriors, they consumed vital resources while offering little in return and wer therefore only hatched for breeding purposes, sent to other hives to cement alliances and keep inbreeding at bay. The other symph were all sisters–hence “the Sisterhood”–and their close relationship gave them all a degree of mutual empathy bordering on telepathy.
The apoc and others have occasionally accused the symph of being an uncreative hive mind, a mass of interchangeable and faceless clones. This is, however, not true; many symph are passionate and artistic, but their culture does place a great deal of importance on maintaining the unified front of the Sisterhood. Disagreements happen and outliers exist, and it is a culture that values and allows for personal freedom. But the Sisterhood requires that those differences be strictly internal and secret, guarded from all but a few close friends and allies. A remnant of when the wood was a crueler place, perhaps, or before large numbers of apoc began living among the symph as laborers, warriors, and lovers.
Individual symph can and do leave the safety of the hive and the sisterhood, but without the rare males they cannot live anything but a solitary existence. Those who do eke out such a living are not unheard of, though, and the most successful often eventually barter with other symph for males and begin new Sisterhoods of their own.
April 3, 2020
Developer: Musjido Team 2
Publisher: Musjido
Platform: Musjido Multi Media System
Release Date:
NA: November 15, 1991
JP: January 21, 1992
EU: May 21, 1992
For this late-system release, the keys to the Subterranoid franchise were handed over to Musjido Team 2, primarily hardware designers, and the result was lambasted at the time as being a tired attempt to wring new life from a worn-out franchise. With Ultra Subterranoid a little more than a year away, many people chose to wait for the newer product, leaving Subterranoid IV: Areolus’s Awakening as one of the rarer games for the MMS.
April 2, 2020
“Far from being amh, they are worse than llew, because they kill our young and force us to raise their own. Larger, heavier, they take more food and more care than our own young do. They may not eat us, as llew would, but they devour all the same.” Yn said.
“But surely,” asked Echyd, “surely we can tell the difference. Their eggs would be larger too, yes?”
Yn puffed up, the old sparrow shuddering from wingtips to tail. “Sometimes they are. But the cowbirds will keep a keen watch on their brood, and if you eject their egg, they will descend upon the nest and destroy it–killing all your true young and perhaps even yourself as well. It is the implicit threat they hold over all of us, and they have been growing in numbers every season.”
April 1, 2020
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.
March 31, 2020
There’s very little remarkable about this object in the Hoard: it’s a standard consumer-grade pocketknife from Coltelleria Rovereto. There are hints of the traditional Trentino Alto Atesino in its design, but it is otherwise a bog-standard utility knife of the sort that might have cost a few hundred lira in a corner shop after the war.
All except for its scale, of course.
The pocketknife is about 12 inches long when folded, and 24 inches fully extended–a short sword, were it possible to get a grip on it. Every component on the knife is the same as numerous other extant examples, but at a scale of exactly 5.75x. It might be dismissed as a larger blade made for promotional or advertising purposes, but Coltelleria Rovereto has never made larger knifes for that purpose. In fact, the knife’s serial number matches one manufactured in January 1960 according to company records–an ordinary blade, one of over 10,000 made that year.
And the scale is exact: 5.75x. Every part, every marking, everything–including tool marks from the original manufacture, which seem to indicate construction on 5.75x scale tools.
March 30, 2020
The Boo Blasters were the longest-lasting competition to come out of the 1980s “supernatural exterminator” boom, successafully competing with Ghostbusters franchises for over five years until the Paranormal Extermination Act of 1990 outlawed the practice of franchised ghost-hunting.
Since the patents related to the original mechanism–trapping and containment in magnetic fields–remained in force, the Boo Blasters were forced to scramble to find equivalent technology. They wound up purchasing the patent rights to a mechanism designed by Soviet dissident and exile Yuri Makarov while he was incarcerated at a maximum-security sanitarium. Rather than trapping spiritual entities, Makarov’s technology–the ectoplasmic disruptor–broke apart the bonds holding an apparition together, reducing it to the level of paranormal background radiation. While not as permanent as removal–the entities would eventually reform after a period of years or decades–it was far cheaper.
Better still, the equipment to do so was much easier to make and maintain, being modified from off-the-shelf laser diodes and operable without a nuclear fuel source. This led Boo Blasters to seriously undercut its competitors’ prices. In most other aspects, it resembled the other paranormal exterminators in uniforms, advertising, and the like. Until a lawsuit forced them to stop, the Boo Blasters also handed out small toys for promotional purposes, which have since become sought-after collectibles.
While the Paranormal Extermination Act of 1990 technically allowed the original location to continue operation, the entire company had been set up with franchising in mind, and its in-name-only original location was a storage unit in Delaware.
March 29, 2020
The Brinson Hoard is named after its discoverer rather than its collector, and though several other, similar finds have since been thrown in with the same name, it originally referred to a singular collection of items uncovered in the early 21st century.
While the collector’s name has not been published due to privacy concerns, it’s believed that they must have somehow had an innate connection with unexplained, paranormal, and Fortean phenomena, as every item in the hoard turned out to have some kind of strange properties. This conglomeration, the largest found in private hands up to that point, was found in an attic after the owner disappeared mysteriously.
Subsequent experimentation, both onsite and in the lab, is still ongoing. The lead researcher has described the attic as a “King Tut’s Tomb of the Paranormal,” and removal and cataloguing of the various items is expected to continue for years.
March 28, 2020
Lord Clement Blackbourne
The 7th Lord Blackbourne, Clement inherited his father’s bravery and his mother’s intense hatred of the natural world. This leads to an obsessive effort to find and defeat threats to the manor within the manor, such as the celebrated Routing of the Cockroach Raiders and the Capture of the Cupboard Beast. When called to war, though, Clement is usually able to put his neuroses behind him and develop a camaraderie with his men…and, occasionally, their wives.
Lady Carina Blackbourne
Born Carina von Himmelstrup, the 7th Lady Blackbourne is renowned for three things: her incredible musicianship, her love of animals, and her intense emotional bond with her fine clothing. Excellent threads and stitchwork have been known to reduce her to tears, and she is literally never without her expensive couture wardrobe–even in the bath. Her love of animals resulted in the Humane Release of the Cupboard Beast, and she frequently donates clothing that has lost its luster to the less fabulous.
Leo Blackbourne
The eldest son and 8th Lord Blackbourne presumptive (“the heir”), Leo can usually be found at the stables, where he obsessed over the family’s prize steed, Murgatroyd. He has intense ambitions to win the coveted Golden Horseshoe at the annual dressage contest, but has been unable to claim the prize due to an over-reliance on glitz and a childishly petulant attitude. His father insists that he is training for war, even though the family warhorse, Armageddoner XII, remains unridden in the stables.
Angela Blackbourne
The family hostess, Angela has taken over hosting the many balls, soirees, and other social events demanded of the Lords Blackbourne. She is fantastic with people, fastidious with details, and would in all honesty be a much better heir than her older brother Leo. Her intense preoccupation with reading up on recipes and decorum takes up much of her time, as does building up a formidable hope chest and practicing mirror-kisses, though in actuality she finds any sort of flirting distasteful.
Marcus Blackbourne
The second and youngest son (“the spare”), Marcus has not yet accomplished anything of note, thus easily equaling his older brother’s achievements. Very shy, he tends to help Angela clean up for and after parties and has been known to form intense bonds with his mother’s animal-of-the-moment. This led, notably, to the brief Return of the Cupboard Beast as a Pet and the sordid chapter that will forever go down in history as the Revenge of the Cupboard Beast.
Excerpts From Nonexistent Books 