Comments Posted By CapricAura

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He was something of a comedian. Or rather, he said that he was. It was his way of… not justifying, perhaps, but characterizing what he did. He didn’t stand up on a stage, he said, but he was there to, you know, relieve stress. He was comic relief. Okay, maybe not comic, but he was relief. People went to him. People went to him with stress in their life, and they left with less stress in their life. You know?

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.09.2018 @ 5:02 am


The conflict was outside, it was outside of my body, had been, but as I looked down my wayward brother I knew that, finally, the conflict had breached my defenses, had infected my flesh like the coughing fits of the refugees, like the poisonous doctrine of the enemy forces. I knew this because this was the first time I was unsure of my actions.

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.06.2018 @ 4:27 pm


“It’s a deeper heartache than that. Most people ache for what they had, or what they want. Some people ache for things that are gone but they wish that they had had.”

“What do you long for?”

“Something that never really was. Something that I don’t think is even possible. Peace.”

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.02.2018 @ 4:14 am


Lighters were what was issued to us. Not guns, not badges, not nothing, just lighters. But what lighters they were. You could control the length of the flame, from a little pinprick for cutting through plastic packaging, to a great gout of flame that could fend off a grizzly bear. With the right technique, a sort of flick of the wrist, you could even send off a fireball – something akin to a grenade.

» Posted By CapricAura On 02.09.2018 @ 8:23 am


The market was teeming, with buyers, sellers, fishwives, fish, fishhooks, regular hooks, and regular people. Prospective owners of prospective priceless jewels strode from one aisle to the next, comparing the values of priceless jewels, trying to determine which was the most — and which the least — priceless. On a stand high above them all, the Court Jester sat singing a sad little song.

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.27.2016 @ 5:06 am


It’s something of a … transformation. I don’t mean in the physical sense, although I suppose there is a bit of physical transformation as well. I mean primarily in the… sorry, I’m trying to avoid the word “spiritual”. Maybe a transformation of the essence? It changes, somehow, the way you react to the world, and the way the world reacts to you. Even if you have the same body, even the same mind, the same cognitive functions, you become a barrier where once you were a pass, and a help where once you were a hindrance.

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.19.2016 @ 6:49 am


So things can be done, right, first of all, as a matter of course. And things can be undone, so it’s like they were never done, although of course they were, since you had to undo them.
Then things can be redone, which is mostly done after they’re undone, and then obviously they can be reundone, although people usually just say undone.
But then the fun part starts. Things can be predone…

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.16.2016 @ 12:36 pm


“This one will nourish you. This one will cure headaches. This one will kill you, don’t touch it. This one tastes good, but it has no other effects. Oh, and it’s extremely addictive. This one will make you blind, but only for a couple months. This one will nourish you. Wait, did I say that one already? Let me start over.”

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.13.2016 @ 4:42 pm


His thoughts moved slowly, like syrup, like the syrupy stuff the swamp was made of. He had been warned about this – the boundaries between the literal and metaphorical were thin here, so the slowing effect was both physical and mental.

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.04.2016 @ 4:51 am


We were spoon fed the information slowly, piece by piece, over the course of the eleven months of our training. Even in the final phase, when the physical training was long gone and we were just wrapping up the emotional and mental stuff, we were only just starting to get a clear picture of what we were up against. The final piece of the puzzle didn’t fit into place until the afternoon before we were to ship out.

» Posted By CapricAura On 05.02.2016 @ 1:56 pm


It ended up more like a comedy than an ambush. Soldiers smashed into soldiers, swords flying; the whipmaster got his whip tangle in the horse’s reins and was pulled off his feet into the mud when he didn’t let go in time; and the captain, by some miracle of divine humor, ended up with the milk bucket in on his head in place of his helmet.

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.25.2016 @ 7:23 am


The lantern, swinging from its thick rubber-coated power cable, shone like a solar flare, blinding even in the daylight. The young girl had put on two pairs of old firemen’s gloves to hold it and was shielding her eyes with her other arm, but it was clear that even so it pained her.

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.22.2016 @ 5:07 am


I think it’s all just… academic, really, though. When you get down to it. You can call them “magical” or “fae” or even “mutant”, and in some cases you have some sort of scientific consensus to back it up, but the terminology never stays the same and the explanations don’t either. Even when the scientists agree it’s always in terms that don’t apply to anything else; these things exist in their own microcosm, unaffected by normal science and causality.

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.16.2016 @ 5:06 am


“Now it’s a bit—they’re all a bit—touchy,” the nervous young man said, stepping sideways to get between the close rows of bulbous metal shapes.

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.14.2016 @ 3:17 am


The government wasn’t stable, not really, not per se. Neither had the last one been, as evidenced by the fact that it was now “the last one”. This one was held up only by constant pressure, like something that won’t fall because it’s pressed between two weights.

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.12.2016 @ 3:34 am


I tried to figure out how it was that I was chosen. I mean, after I was tired of trying to figure out where I was, who had taken me, how I might escape, and a thousand other things. I set to working out my whole life, everything I could remember, and trying to isolate every single element that made me different or unique or superlative, or even more good or evil than other people. Of course, there was always the chance that it was random…

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.09.2016 @ 6:02 am


“There’s an intersection between possibility and our knowledge of possibility. Science is the process of moving further from the one into the other. It also means that we can never truly know the risks of these experiments when we start them.”

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.07.2016 @ 5:27 am


“It’s not exactly… scientific, is it?”
“It runs on science, if that’s what you mean. I mean, every part of its operation follows established scientific—”
“No, but, you didn’t take any notes, or measurements, or even get legal consent. Plus, we’re completely out of pipe cleaners now, and aren’t flamethrowers illegal in Nebraska?”

» Posted By CapricAura On 04.01.2016 @ 5:59 pm


You always were a bit of a lightweight. Not with the alcohol; I mean in the ring. Okay, with the alcohol, too. I never knew why you did it; stepped into the ring, the combination boxing-and-drinking ring, with a four hundred pound Russian. It didn’t make any sense. What was it you were so keen on getting away from or losing, other than your life?

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.30.2016 @ 7:24 pm


You swerve to miss the pedestrian, but it was a trap; that wasn’t a pedestrian, it was a dinosaur. And not like “an old car” or something, but an actual, literal dinosaur.

You stop and try to get out of your car to see what’s wrong, but you can’t; you’re not driving a car, you’re riding a dinosaur.

You look in the mirror. You are a dinosaur.

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.29.2016 @ 3:58 am


“It’s my turn.”
“It’s not.”
“It could be.”
“It couldn’t. How could it be? It’s never your turn.”
“That’s why it’s my turn now!”
“No, that’s the Gambler’s Fallacy. It’s not your turn because it’s NEVER your turn, and it’s never your turn because you aren’t a member of our group.”
“That’s a fallacy, too! That’s the you’re-a-stupid-fathead fallacy.”

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.25.2016 @ 1:00 pm


The endless legend, the endless sea, the endless string of prime number reaching out to infinity…
Theses are all, mathematically speaking, more endless than the “endless” line Mary was facing at the supermarket, yet only the line really impressed her with its endlessness; only the line hammered into her brain the real and terrifying concept of infinity.

» Posted By CapricAura On 03.22.2016 @ 4:45 am

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