Doing it right...

[jwhouk]

"Sarah?" I turned to nudge my wife, who was snoring away on her side of the bed. "Did you hear something?"

"Huh? Whu-za..." She shook her head. "Pro'lly just the cat or somethin'." She went back to sleep.

I shrugged and rolled back over to go back to sleep myself.

[Just Old Al]

Al looked up at the hole and the beings surrounding it.

The elf in patchwork leathers was new to the assemblage, however Glytch seemed to be familiar so he came down off immediate alert status. Thankfully Jin and Alan were safe, though Alan really needed to become a gentleman and give her his robe - the poor thing was out in goosebumps either from the close call or the temperature of the air welling up from this Stygian blackness. Quite fetching goosebumps, but goosebumps indeed.

"Many thanks, elf - we appreciate the help. "Daisy said as the elf disappeared. Putting the amulet back on Daisy became the curvy, strawberry blonde human she'd been before she and the amulet had parted company. She started for the ladder-

Al noticed the movement above, and dove for Daisy, knocking her aside and into a pile of coal dust. The weapons case, no longer adequately supported by the floor, tumbled two stories, hit the stacked beds and bounced wildly to the floor, narrowly missing both of them in its travels.

BLOODY SODDING MISERABLE PUTREFACTING RESIDUE OF AN ABBATOIR!" Al cursed as the case finally came to rest. Looking up, he realized that the planking on the edge had given way under the weight of the case.

"Daisy, dear - are you all right?" Al asked, shaken at the near miss.

"Other than a scrape or two where I skidded on coal, I'm fine love. Let's try and get out of here. I feel the need for a...shower, I think."

Unfortunately, by the time this had happened the roots anchorng the ladder had diminished, and GLytch rescued the ladder from a trip into the coal cellar with Al, Daisy and his weapons case.

"Is there a door down here?" Al asked, hopiung that the answer would be positive.

"Yes, there is, but we'll likely have to force it - this hasn't been used in decades."

"Oh jolly good...more fun. I hate to ask, but could someone round up two robes, locate the majordomo and meet us at the door out of here with his guidance?"

With that, Al and Daisy started stumbling for the door a few feet away, nearly invisible in the dust and gloom.

As they receded, Al could be heard asking Daisy, "How would you feel about a new house, built to support a centaur properly?"

[DinkyInky]

A pair of ice blue eyes glitter in the small amount of light in the dark room appearing without sound, the shadows enveloping completely the figure within.

"Sire, your report."

Low, predatory growls, punctuated by soothing words, then a deep breath:

"Could you "A" wait until I'm out of bed--mainly so Phix doesn't eviscerate you, and "B" wait until I'm out of this room!"

"The news is urgent. Waiting is not an option, and I'll gladly take her rage if it keeps everyone she cares about safe. I owe her that."

She then goes into great detail on her day, including the large crowds of 'detritus'...lawless people that she gleefully scared straight into 'houses of law', the large crowds of hate filled peoples that were amassing, finishing her report with the altercation at the warehouse.

"He smells of clay, like the sisters of the woman with child you call 'Jin', who no longer has that scent, and the tiny one that is near my own colour. I deemed this more important than a minor discomfort to you and your mate. You may strike if I erred."

With that, she dropped the shadows and waited.

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch knelt down to the floor and pried up a board to reveal one of the beams beneath and prodded at it with the tip of an arrow.
"Shit... Dry rot! Everyone, get out of here! I don't know how bad the beams are!" He shouted, gathering up the ladder and making sure Alan and Jin were in front of him before moving himself. "I wouldn't be surprised if the floorboards are holding up the damn beams!"
Glytch urged the two others onward, listening intently to the creaking of the floor as they went. Once the creaking stopped, Glytch shouted the all clear. "I don't know who the carpenter was, but he deserves a swift kick in the ass. Only one support beam! Not a single instance of laminated beams! For Centuars! What an idiot!" Glytch's engineering classes and his time spent helping family build decks and repair roofs came to the forefront of his mind. "I'd prefer a nice, fat oaken beam, all one piece of wood, but that's nigh impossible to find nowadays... I'd accept five laminated boards, three inches thick and six inches wide at the very least."
"Isn't that a bit... overkill?" Alan cocked his head to the side.
"This is a house of paranormals! Need I say more? And for god's sake, boy, give Jin that robe!" Glytch smacked Alan upside his head.
"Aiee! Ok, ok!"

[jwhouk]

I kept hearing noise coming from other parts of the house, but I wasn't in any particular mood to get up at the moment. The Alexander estate was relatively peaceful, located in the Northwest suburbs of the Twin Cities. The whole of the main house was something right out of the late 19th Century - which it probably was.

I reached over and clicked on the iPad, swiped it on and entered my pass code. I flipped through to the Google News app, and checked out what was happening out in the world.

There were a few articles, mostly about the fallout of Russian-Syrian relations, and a few bits about some NFL coaches being fired for slow starts.

One article, though, caught my eye: Major drug dealer found dead in Warehouse District.

I scanned through the article - the guy was a former associate of Antonio Malcroft, described as his second in command. He'd been found with his face smashed in, and both hands crushed - but without a single gunshot, though bullet casings were found on the scene.

Hmm, that's odd, I thought. Part of the Malcroft thing. I wonder if there's a power struggle going on with Klaus out of the picture...

[Sgt. Howard]

"Smelled of clay?!? Another golum?" Neil asked.
"It would so appear- I thought it prudent to give you this information immediately,"
"You thought correctly," Phix assured her, "in fact, thank you for your foresight,"
"It is my duty, M'Lady- Sire, what would you have of me now?"
"Do you require sleep? I suspect now is as good a chance as ever if you are to gather more information on this person... I suggest you take advantage of it,"
"Certainly Sire- you need only call my name and there I will be... by your leave?"
"Uh... certainly..."
And she disappeared.....

[GlytchMeister]

Once Glytch ensured everyone was out of the dangerous area, he went to his bedroom and discovered his phone buzzing. "Ah, news from the outside!" He collected his phone and went to the study to read up in what his bots had come up with.
"Well... That can't be good... I really need to find Sarge..." Glytch muttered and jotted down the main points in his notepad before trying to find his way to the main room. "Guyyys? Helloooo? I'm lost and I need to tell y'all some stuff!"
"What are you yelling about, boy?" A pompous, exhaspirated-looking man approached Glytch from behind.
"Something's happened out there, I need to tell the people in charge."
"I'll show you to the main room. I believe breakfast will be served shortly. You can inform the others of your findings then."
Glytch narrowed his eyes at the butler. "See to it that breakfast is indeed served post haste, kind sir, for my findings may just to happen to be more important than your mustache."

[Sgt. Howard]

Careful there Glytch- he threatened to quit once before... good help is hard to find, y'know...

[Just Old Al]

We stood at the door of the coal bin, my love and I, awaiting Edward and the cavalry. I'd tried the door and it was stuck a good one, but nothing two people couldn't shove open.

"I'm cold..." Daisy looked a bit forlorn, with coal dust covering nearly every inch of her skin, leaving her eyes and mouth as the only clean bits. I wrapped my arms around her, muttering "sorry about your house, meduck - we'll make it right again". Somehow, utterly starkers as we are, it still feels right to hold her and comfort her - my love.

I really like the sound of that, I do. Been too long.

"I know we will - one way or the other. Might be a good idea you have, though - a house designed properly for centaurs that doesn't look like it. Broad, proper staircases one can handle with hooves, solid floors and the like. This way no matter where or what we are it's welcome."

I heard noises from the other side of the door. "Sir? Are you there?"

"Damnit, Edward, where in Hades do you think we might have gone - Leeds for a pint of beer? Yes we're here and stop calling me sir - AL, Damnit!'

"Yes, sir." I sighed, and gave up on it.

"OK, I'll pull and you folks push from the outside. One, Two THREE..." WIth that, the door flew open and I went arse over teakettle into the coal dust again.

An arm handed through two robes, and I took one covering myself after my spill into this filthy mess. My love covered herself and we stepped out.

"Edward, if you have a carpenter that the family deals with would you call them please to do an immediate inspection of the house for rot? Also, if possible without risk, please have my bags, Jin and ALan's bags and this MISERABLE SODDING ASSASIN OF A WEAPONS CASE removed to safter quarters, please?"

"Yes, sir. I believe Master Buck was already calling a contractor after he heard what happened...and picked himself up off the floor from laughing. Mistrss Katherine is here to make sure you are both well - however she too is showing signs of sore ribs and hiccupping from laughter."

"Thank you. Now can you point us to a space where your mistress and I can get cleaned up and perhaps borrow a pair or two of pajamas till our baggage can be salvaged?"

"Certainly, sir. Follow me." he led us past a starkers Alan - she finally had his robe, good lad and Glytch, who started telling me about the dry rot and the small beams.

"Yes, Glytch - however hopefully it's an isolated section - that is not unusual in older houses and failry easy to fix. The construction you describe is not unusual for houses of this age - the wood is unplaned and full thickness so a good lot stronger than it appears." I hoped he got the strongly voiced subliminal SHUTTHEFRACKUPDAMNIT I was projecting - Daisy was not in a good frame of mind right now.

We all trailed back upstairs, and Edward led us to a bedroom away from the carnage. After promising to find us something to wear and leaving, he closed the door. Ten seconds later Daisy was hanging on to me desperately - like I was a twig on the edge of a chasm and her lifeline.

"I-i-i-i cannn't take it anymore, Al. The bad guys and the danger and now my poor houssssse..." She leaned against me and cried in great, whooping sobs. This poor woman had been a bastion of strength for everyone - but this had pushed her to the limit.

I held her close, saying nothing, as the tears washed clear patches in the grime on her face. "There, there, love - this is nothing that can't be fixed - and made better than ever. How many people do you know can say they collaped the floor in their room from enthusiastic nookie? Think of the peg or two it's going to take Greg down in his bragging! " I held her chin up and smiled at her, staring into her lovely, deep eyes.

She laughed ruefuly, the emotional storm passing as it had come. I held her chin and locked her gaze to mine...those lovely eyes.

"We will fix it - and make it better than ever. If you want to build a new place, this one can be a guest house for our friends - both para and para-friendly. We'll get through this, love...you, and me, and your family and our friends. This too shall pass."

She wiped the tears from her face leaving smeared patches in the coal dust, smiled and I shooed her toward the bathroom saying "Go shower - and make sure you wash your hair thoroughly. If you leave that coal dust on your fell it is going to itch like hell when you turn back."

She blew me a kiss. And went.

[jwhouk]

I nudged Sarah. "I think they're about to serve breakfast downstairs," I told her. She sleepily rolled over.

"C'n I have the iPad?" She asked. I handed it to her.

"I'm going to go get dressed, see what the commotion was that we heard earlier." She nodded at me as I grabbed some things from the drawers, and headed into the connecting bathroom.

For some odd reason, there was a smell coming from the heating ducts. It smelled vaguely like my grandparent's basement.

I went through my usual routine of getting presentable - the centaurs didn't have a shower in the suite, but I figured I'd be able to use the portal system to get back home to properly shower later - and finished getting dressed just in time to hear the chimes from the kitchen indicating breakfast was being served.

"Sarah," I poked my head back in the bedroom, "I think they're serving breakfast. You might wanna get dressed and come join us."

She was sitting up, looking at the iPad - likely playing Yatzy. "Yeah, I'll be down in a bit," she said.

I finished putting my shoes on and headed out the door of the bedroom... and noticed the smell was getting heavier as I walked down the stairwell to the main floor.

When I got to the dining room, I noticed that there was a chill in the room. The head butler greeted me.

"The others will be along shortly," he explained. "There was a little incident over in the North Tower this morning."

"Did the furnace explode or something?" I asked. "I've smelled coal dust since I got up."

"No, not the furnace, sir," he replied as he placed a plate full of eggs, ham and biscuits in front of me on the table. "Some of the floorboards in the older part of the house."

"No one was hurt, were they?"

"Only the pride of our Madame Alexander," he said, unconsciously rolling his eyes skyward.

I decided not to ask, and dug in to the breakfast.

[DinkyInky]

"Safyr, zhah ol myar?"

"L'rivvin ogglinnar dryss'ho bauth l'nesst d'khaul, Emerauld. Nind orn'la xun al ulu sevir mina tlu, nindol ka'lum orn tlu nind haruk. Nind ph'garethur taga nind ann'ish. Jhal...Nindol zhal naut tlu natha k'olah xonathull."

"Zhah ol ji xusst ulu ssinssrin ulu xxizz mina?"

"Usstan knan ticondo, Eme'. Udos zhal telanth vel'drav Usstan inbal v'dre."

"V'dre al, Saf'. Nind zhal kyorl."

With a quick murmur of incantation, and a shimmer of green particles; a wall of thorns and thick branches surround the camp she had made, followed by a prayer of thanks.

Satisfied her sister is safe, she moves off to meet up with Glytch at the other camp, foraging ingredients for a meal as she goes.



"Safyr, is it bad?"

"The human's enemies gather around the man of clay, Emerauld. They would do well to leave them be, this clan shall be their doom. They are stronger than they appear. But...this shall not be a clean battle."

"Is it so wrong to want to help them?"

"I grow tired, Eme'. We shall talk when I have rest."
"Rest well, Saf'. They shall guard."

[Hansontoons]

This would all make a helluva good graphic novel! We have mythology, adventure, fantasy, tech, all manna for nerds!

If I could only draw something other than flies...

[Sgt. Howard]

Don Mayhew had a major collapse of his own that morning. None of the clay molds formed around the wax masters were drying without cracks- the masters were simply too big. Every trick he tried failed miserably. Stoddard suggested patching the cracks with slip, but prior experience had proven this to be a failure of a concept. Even Snieweiss, the resolute old Kraut, had no solution.
Young Willy Barnes, journeyman foundry man, looked at the trouble- and made a bold statement-
"Why not go with green sand? A four piece impression? Masters are crafted out of wood, just like they do engine blocks? That way, we re-cycle our molds and never loose a master... the auto industry does it all the time. The 'Old Man' taught us that a cast receiver works just dandy- why not green sand cast?"

Three 'Experts' stood in stark amazement at the young man's wisdom. Immediately, the R&D people were on it.
The first cast was being milled that afternoon- the rough exterior was left 'as is' to expedite production. The interior had to be broached, a slow, fussy process involving successively larger square files on a reciprocating mill... but the results were excellent! Better still, they were replicable! Barrels in .50 BMG were already waiting the next day when the final cuts were made. Chambering was roughed out, bolts were fitted and headspacing accomplished. The barrels were tapped for the gas trap, fitted and the cylinder mounted to each one. Piston cap being the far end of a beefed up action rod allowed final mating of the upper receiver to the trigger assembly.
The stocks were another matter- 21" of distance between the trigger and the buttplate threw all other dimensions into a cocked hat... and 8" of drop made no sense to the stockmakers- NOBODY had ever built a stock this big before and NOBODY knew what other dimensions made sense. Finally, Tom Young settled on a long rifle stock design of the 1740's by J. P. Rupp of Lancaster Pennsylvania- figuring if nothing else, it was pleasing to the eye and accommodated the severe drop.

Four days after Greg called them, the first piece was loaded and tested... it had to be locked to a bench to do so.

Nobody in the shop could control the thing...

[GlytchMeister]

Nothin' like a good ol' fashioned cannon to put a dirtbag to sleep...

[Sgt. Howard]

This would all make a helluva good graphic novel! We have mythology, adventure, fantasy, tech, all manna for nerds!

If I could only draw something other than flies...

And now we have gratuitous gun porn! BTW- the "Old Man" referred to is the Late Bill Ruger- Genius, innovator and absolute SOB!!! I worked under him back in the '70s. He offered me full-time permanent, I told him he didn't have that kind of money. No regrets, actually... I would not have gone Army, would not have my two daughters from my first marriage, would not have met Miss Annie... I am happy where I am, regardless of the path that brought me here.

[Sgt. Howard]

Nothin' like a good ol' fashioned cannon to put a dirtbag to sleep...

By BATF&E regulations- "A breech-loading rifled bore of over .50" constitutes 'Artillery' and as such require a 'Class II' registration tax and can only be owned in states that allow 'Class II' ownership- EXCEPTION- single-shot patterns based on Civil War patterns that MUST USE BLACK POWDER."

[Dave]

Reminding me a bit of the "Rolling Thunder" belt-fed machine shotgun (I think it was) in "Phule's Company". The mere sound of it firing off a few rounds in rapid succession was often enough to persuade the enemy to surrender.

[Sgt. Howard]

Greg wandered down the hallway towards the smell of breakfast and coffee- the coffee right now was critical as Annie was still recuperating from the morning... exercises... and was sleeping with a rather contented look on her face. But there was another smell, an odd smell- coal dust. Unmistakable. Greg was 11 the first time he fired up a forge to heat iron- he KNEW that smell. People he encountered were either distracted or amused, and he was too tired to be curious about it.
In the grand parlor, people were chattering about something that a pre-caffeinated Greg would not comprehend- he gathered two steaming cups and started padding back to Miss Annie...when Glytch accosted him.
"Sarge, we gotta talk- there's mention of John by this crowd who's after you all! Suzi and Lily are listed as well,"
"Crap!" muttered the Old Sgt.- "why not just nuke the whole twin cities and be done with it? Pretty soon they will list Tom Selleck and Barbra Boxer... well, if they DO list Barbra Boxer, I'd like to know how much I might collect on that..."
"DAMMIT SARGE! They KNOW about JOHN!"

Greg looked at Glytch- "Let me get Sassafras her coffee- then you and I talk,"

[TazManiac]

Stan had the one class that day, and after getting a text from the Estate informing him what had happened with the floors, he postponed the test grading he had planned for the afternoon and headed back home, well- his new home away from home.

He'd been welcomed along with the rest of the newly acquainted, if extended, family members just fine but he knew that if he hadn't met Tina in the first place he'd never have had any idea the world wasn't what he always though it it to be.

He meant to look after these folks who'd accepted him at face value the best he knew how, and with enthusiasm.

Having put the roadster in storage against the oncoming change in seasons, Stanley was currently driving his old Falcon van. The thing wasn't as practical as other more modern choices but it had proven itself over time and he'd done some 'upgrades' that the casual eye wouldn't notice. And besides, there was the sentimental attachment, who said you always had to be rational?, what ever that was anyway.

The van was pressed into service this time to haul a load of solar panels and some sensors and communications equipment, but not really anything someone might look at and recognize as a complete system.

Stan had a great many ideas over the course of his life, working out a few practical theories from time to time, and now seemed liked a situation with incentives to try them out in real life.

He pulled around back of the Great House, near the wide double doors that the food supplies where delivered through, and went in through the kitchen, looking for somebody to run his ideas past...

[DinkyInky]

"Clearing away fallen leaves is a breeze," Emerauld thought, drawing her swords and going through the katas he-who-Mutters taught her, chanting prayers over her swords, which began glowing green.

The leaves and deadfall swirled around in a giant whirlwind, only to collect into a mountainous pile in the clearing as she motioned with her swords. Finishing with a flourish, she returned them to their sheaths, completing the movements.

"That ought to help them a bit. Yeah, he'd say it's cheating, but it's worth it...they'd take days to rake and clear it out, and they've been nice. Plus, I have enough stuff here to mulch into something nice for their gardens to Wintercover, and I won't need firewood for at least a month."

Task finished, she set about foraging the land for large dead branches suited to her purpose, which were collected and moved quickly by her forest friends, who also helped assemble the bin, and with a smaller incantation, moved the leaves into it. A prayer of thanks given, she set about a small fire in her tinker's stove, which also doubled as a heater, and set a small cauldron of water to warm, and remove.

Laying out a large quilt, she began to sort through her tunics and trousers and selected the ones suited to the rapidly cooling weather.
She also pulled her armour out, and cleaning supplies, and prepared it for cleaning. Singing softly in a strange tongue, she began to rub oil into her armour, dark brown, almost black in colour, with green scrollwork adorning the edges. Boots, greaves, leggings, pauldrons, bracers, gloves, breastplate, and finally the helm. The chainmail joinings were tested for weak points, and finding none, were cleaned and wrapped. Satisfied it was enough, she wrapped the now gleaming armour in blankets and replaced them in her pack.

She next removed her bow, quiver, bracers, wrist pouch, and swords, cleaned them, as well as repairing torn straps, and setting them down. Pulling several large sections of fabric and some small ones and a soaproot out of the pack, she stripped down and moved aside, then dipped one of the small bits in the water, soaproot treated it, and did a quick scrub to remove the days filth. Next, soaking one small bit of fabric, vigorously rubbed soaproot on it, and washed her hair to remove the black coal dust she knew was there. Dumping the cauldron's remains over her, she walked to the quilt and dried herself with the larger cloth.
Dressing in a mottled green cloth tunic, breeches, and moccasins, she went about collecting the soiled garments, and heated another cauldron which contained shavings of soaproot.
Placing all but her leathers in, she cleaned them, and rinsed them in another cauldron, and hung them on a rope she fastened to two trees, then wiped them clean.
Replacing the leathers, but not her boots, she put away one cauldron, while filling the other with water and the items she foraged earlier, along with some dried meat, then setting it on the stove.
Feeling accomplished, she collected her gear, pack, and quilt, and climbed into the Willow to nap murmuring a prayer of thanks.