>I hate the undead. It's like having your best friend break up with you. They're still there, it's really awkward, and you have to kill them.
>It's a very soggy invasion as the city submits to the sweltering tyranny of our sullen summer overlords. A missive has been sent to autumn.
>It's actually not so difficult to be a sorcerer. Like any skill, the basics take some time and the rest comes with passion and practice.
>No one sells their soul anymore. It's become a line of credit. Big lines of happiness and prosperity with easy terms on forgiveness.
>My shapeshifter friend stood me up. Didn't know until her best friend changed back while we were having dinner.
>That was counterproductive. When we talked to the ogre about his weight problem, he felt so bad he ate more babies. We were trying to help!
>When the selkies walk the streets in their own skins, it's a rainy day. The seafood, however, is fantastic.
>Whether or not a sorceress is right or wrong. Anyone who can turn you into a frog is always in the right. Upside: girls think I'm a prince.
>We only focus on the objects. Most of the ghosts of the exposition have long disintegrated. But sometimes an object holds a soul as well.
>Mom's coming to town. Gotta hide the porn and the sacred artifacts. Asked shapeshifter to pick a single form. That fight went all night.
>You put a leash on a naked man and take him for a walk, you get arrested. Full moon comes out, and everyone wants to pet the puppy. Bastard.
>You want to know why I'm not a doctor ma? I know the locations of the seven secret organs of man and what happens when they get cut.
>Ever seen a salamander dissolve? Wait for a hot humid dawn. Wait until he crawls out of his boiler, and then cover him in baking soda
>Have you experienced an all-consuming passion? John G Shedd did, and it consumed him, digested him, and crapped out a frog-eyed monster.
>I dreamt i was back in school when miss lupindo was telling me there was no such thing as monsters. She was killed with silver in 1993.
>My two year training period with the burnhams ends this week. Ned says i won't have a safety net anymore...there was a net?!?
>A pat on the back, a bulb of garlick, and a box of hollow-point rounds. I am now a fully vetted member of the Burnham Society. Fuck me.
>Where do all the souls go? Is there a separate train line or something? The pity in the old ghost's eyes was rather damning.
>If the monster you see is looking out at you from the mirror...U.V. shock first, then silver nitrate, then black paint. Stupid.
>Within the post office is a labyrinth that has no escape. Just the smell of kerosene, lye, and the screams of young women. Oh, Dr. Holmes...
Look, you.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I don't have black paint and a UV light handy. Sometimes I have to improvise when slavering horrors want to nom on my delicious foxy soul.
Sometimes all I have is luck, a bokken, and a willingness to smash the living hell out of something.
I've been trying to take out a line of soul credit for years. No one is lending right now, and certainly not to me. They say that without a history, there's no way of telling how pure my soul actually is.
ReplyDeleteI could get someone else to co-sign, but I'm a little bit worried about the binding ritual...
@adam Foxes fail at light theory. Or haven't watched sorcerer's apprentice.
ReplyDelete@robin You'd just spend it on debauchery and cakes anyways.