Valkyrie: Back to the Den o' Thieves

Not sure if it's my connection, Google Docs, Chrome OS, or a combination of these but I've had little luck in trying to work on Valkyrie in docs before importing it here. Shame really since I wanted to be able to work on it from our couch of awesome comfort. Oh sure Scratchpad works, but I wanted a huge word processor that lived in it's own tab and I could go back and do touchups, edits and the like with in addition to the occasional update. Ah well, maybe that'll be addressed whenever Chrome OS updates. Google did warn us that it would get a bit bumpy and rough around the edges after all.

On the plus side Flufferwuffer clued me in on the app they've been using to auto-tweet whenever blog updates. So that's looking awesome. In my third week of using the cr-48 and very excited at all the hubbub around it. Really really annoyed that docs isn't working well as I try to write when my attention span allows it, and half-baked solutions just feel.... meh. Still, what I have works and I'm going to have to do a better job at getting updates out the door in a timely manner.

Final note of the moment. I'd searched through an old disused Yahoo mail account and was pleasantly surprised my old scorpio ebook edition of Ariel: A book of the Change was exactly where I'd left it a few years back. With a little magic from Calibre (and the fact .lit is an early form of the current epub file format) my nook is now letting me go through a book I'd first fell in love with in high-school.

“My ‘boss’,” She snarled, “Can stuff it. This guy changes things. Best I can do is try getting backup and hope we can hit this place before they scatter.”

You want vanilla mortals taking on someone that can kill them then raise their corpses as a personal army? The armor’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. OK great, sounds like an awesome plan. Especially if this guy zeroes out a few of your meta-buddies and ends up with super-charged undead to play with.

Bike stopped. Sam took a breath and slowly looked around. Residential area. Low traffic. Actually a pretty nice neighborhood. Why do the selfish and corrupt get most of the nicer things in life?

Because they don’t care who they hurt or starve out to get what they want. She wasn’t sure if the thought was hers or the armor’s and took another look around. Any ideas on how to field this one if I can’t depend on anyone else to help? 

Well, Sam circled around on her way back to the house she had just escaped from., If Backup is too dangerous because they'll just die, and it's been hundreds of years since you had to bother with somebody like this, how do I not get zonked then killed as soon as I poke my head in?

Well I do know someone that could help. Stop. They're close, smells like they're under heavy compulsion.

Sam focused and was a boney old woman wearing several layers of oversized tatered clothing. Several too lean men passed. Eyes clouded. Nostrels flaring. One of them turned back to her and snorted.

"Go home boy." Sam's voice was different, oald and reedy. She glowered at the tough who was now glowering at her, or at least in her general direction. Hard to tell since his eyes wouldn't focus.

He grinned and started to pull a gun out of the wasteband of his pants, but was stopped by one of his companions who pointed in some randomish seeming direction. The two never said a word but they seemed to decide she wasn't worth the trouble and headed away.

Sam heard the armor chuckle and shook her head, shuffle-walking back to the house's front lawn, noting the bent bars over one of the second floor windows. Trained to handle these situations remember? Don't think of it as going up against Voldemort Junior. Think about it like you're just going against a really powerful meta. She focused on that. Easier to think of her opponent in familiar terms. Think of it like that time you and Max had it out. You're the one person that was able to take him in a one on one fight. You can do this.

A slow circuit around the house showed a fenced in back yard, no open windows. However the windows on the first floor weren't barred. Entryway picked. Looked like it was into a bedroom and forcing the window wasn't an issue. 


She found somewhere else to be for the next ten minutes while she waited to make sure the noise wasn't connected to her. While this was going on she debated calling in let others know what was going on. After all the chances of her phone being tapped was next to nil.

"Sam?" Something about the voice.

"I'm fine. Just a little snag last night."

Voice didn't seem to buy the brushoff. "a 'little snag'? You missed two different checkins and your phone's telling us you're nowhere near where we last had you. What the frak is going on?"

She checked the time. "I'm about to bring down their biggest gun."

"Kay... We talking Aztlan backing? I'd really rather you wait till we get a team together. Maybe pull a few other metas on this. Can have everything by lunch if we hussle."

Don't do it. The armor urged in a whisper. He'll just use them as meat puppets and you're not ready to go toe to toe with a necromancer that's eaten seven or eight people.

"I," Sam breathed deep, "Think it would be better if I went in alone. I want you to get whoever you can and be here in a half hour."

"Can't say I like that plan. You sure?"

"Positive. They'll be long gone by the time we get ready to do things the right way." Sam had already started back to the house. 

"Half hour, whoever we can bring. Anything else?" The voice at the other end seemed frustrated.

"I'd love to do this with lots of people to help make sure I don't fumble the ball, but either I go in, possibly screw up and they flee, or I wait and they're already long gone."
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