The Price

G'day all! I've written a short story. Just trying to get back into the swing of writing. Man it's been hard since I got a full time job... Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.

The Price.

“What do we have?”

“John Doe. Male, in his early forties I’m guessing. Identification from dental records is impossible, frankly. Multiple contusions, severe fractures, lacerations, third-degree burns to nearly all of his body… The list of what this guy died from is longer that what’s left of his arm there.” The medical examiner pointed to the mangled stump of a limb closest to Detective Courtney. She glanced down at the glossy mess, and then quickly averted her eyes again.

“So no personal effects at all?” she asked thickly. In her time as a beat cop, she’d seen plenty of grisly sights, but this? Her cornflakes seemed to want to enter the Olympics for tumbling.

“Nothing. Well, nothing yet. I still have to sort through - at least I think it’s an arm - to look for a ring.” The examiner gestured to a separate pile of what appeared to be ground meat mixed with gravel. Courtney looked up at the ceiling.

“All right, well, call me if you find anything.”

“Will do detective,” said the examiner as she peered closer at the body.

Courtney hastened from the room. She caught the lift doors and stepped inside, hitting the button for the second floor. She shivered and concentrated on the tinny muzak emanating from the lift’s speakers, trying to drown out the memory of the sounds of minced body parts under the medical examiner’s hands. She sighed and got out as the lift doors opened again. Nearly all of the cubicles up here were empty now. Dusty golden sunbeams streamed in through the blinds in her boss’s office. Courtney headed down the well worn path to her cubicle at the end. She gathered up her things and tapped her keyboard. Her ancient computer screen flickered to life again, revealing the article she’d been perusing while the ME had been doing her cursory examination. The media hounds had gotten to this one incredibly quickly and the captain had wanted to shut the lid on it and find out who was at fault as soon as possible.

NEAR TRADGEDY ON I35

A head-on collision between a school-bus and an SUV on the highway this morning has left one adult dead, three adults and eighteen children hospitalized and a further twelve children under observation at the nearby St James. This gruesome scene is the result of a night of drinking…

Courtney scrolled down past the image of the blackened bus and cars – after the initial collision a separate sedan had plowed into the bus, toppling it onto its side. Shattered glass spread out from the scene like a creeping frost.

It was a miracle that only one person died in this horrific crash. Somehow, all victims had been safely removed from the blaze by the time the fire department arrived to douse the flames. What caused this hellish crash is still unknown-

“You coming out tonight, Court?”

Courtney jumped and looked around.

“Hi Jake. I’ve told you to quit creeping up on me like that. You know you walk like a cat…”

“And you grumble like a badger.” Jake cocked his head and grinned. Courtney rolled her eyes.

“Not tonight Jake. Don’t think I’d be able to stomach a beer after what I’ve seen down the morgue today.”

Jake’s eyes slid to her screen.

“Ah. I see. I heard about the man who died. Poor guy,” he said. The ivory smile receded and he shook his head slightly. “Well, maybe on the weekend then.”

“Sounds good,” said Courtney. She shut the computer down and turned back to Jake.

“Walk you out?” he asked, grin flashing again mockingly as he held his elbow out to her. She shoved him away, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

“So how’s that lovely nurse going?” she asked as they headed towards the lift.

“Oh she’s wonderful. I barely see her because of the hours she works, but you know what they say – absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he said.

“It’s so refreshing to know that there are still men like you in this world. Guys who are just good,” Courtney said as the doors pinged open. “Some men I know would just not want to support a woman who works those crazy on-call hours she does.”

Jake gasped in mock surprise. “Detective Tate? A compliment? From you?”

Courtney punched him again. He groaned and rubbed his arm.

“Yeah, I dunno. I just feel… after today… Anyone who just goes out of their way to help others is a hero to me.”

Jake smiled. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a badass my Janey.”



Courtney found herself shielding her eyes, even with the dark wraparounds she’d donned that morning. She’d told Jake she hadn’t wanted to go out, but he’d wheedled and whined and she’d given in. She’d gone heavier than usual on the vodka, just trying to drown out a few of the memories.

“Okay, I get your point,” she mumbled, holding her head which currently felt like it was committing suicide by ice pick.

“Good morning detective!”

Courtney winced as she stepped out of the elevator.

“Whoever said it was good?” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said morning, Captain James,” she said, flipping her hair back from her face and trying to look as though the morning glare wasn’t making her head ache.

The captain raised one bushy brow at her and then turned back to his desk. Courtney ducked her head again and hurried to her cubicle. She switched on her computer and checked her emails. Lily the medical examiner had left one telling Courtney that she’d found something. Courtney headed for the lifts.



“I’ve been working here for three years. Every time I come down here, I forget it’s like walking into the arctic,” said the detective.

“And every time you mention the temperature, I tell you that it’s not the living who need it down here,” Lily said, pointing a blue gloved hand at her. Courtney rolled her eyes.

“You said you had something?”

Lily screwed up her face, her lips – they were a vibrant shade of purple today – pursed.

“Sort of. It’s what I don’t have is the interesting thing.”

“What you don’t have?”

Lily walked over and pulled open one of the storage units along the wall. Mr. Mincemeat John Doe slid out. Courtney sighed heavily and walked over.

“I went through everything, but we do not actually have all of Five Star here.”

“Five star?”

“Mince quality. You don’t cook much, do you detective?”

“Chinese takeout mostly. It’s got vegetables. It’s healthy. Beside the point. What do you mean you don’t have all of him?”

“Well, I sorted out that pile of arm that they brought in. Not all of it is there. We have an assortment of radius, humerus and ulna fragments, but none of the carpals, metacarpals or finger bones. It’s like the whole lower arm is just missing. Including any ring if there is one.”

“So… what? I’ve got to go looking for a missing left hand?”

“Unless you can come up with a better way to identify the poor soul?”

Courtney groaned and put her head in her hands.

“Oh come on. It won’t be that hard.”

“No it’s not the case. I went out drinking with Jake last night.”

Lily raised her pretty red eyebrows.

“You know he has a girlfriend Lily,” Courtney snapped. Lily pursed her lips again and turned away.

Courtney groaned and stomped out of the morgue.



The contents of the evidence box lay spread from one end of her diminutive desk to the other. Crime scene photographs always threw such a harsh light on everything.

“What are you looking for?” Jake was peering over the wall of her cubicle, eyes bright and catlike in his curiosity.

“A missing hand apparently,” said Courtney.

“Sounds like fun,” said Jake, giving her a deadpan look.

“M-hm.”

Jake scratched his nose. “I hear that the parents of fourteen of the kids are taking the city to court over this. Unsafe highways or something.”

“Whereas the driver of the SUV is attempting to sue the bus driver,” Courtney said, shuffling through more photographs.

“Really?”

“M-hm.”

“What a world we live in now. They should really all just be thanking their lucky stars they all got out of it relatively unscathed. Janey was there when the kids were all brought in for observation. She had seen the crash on the news and was expecting… She said it was a miracle that they were all okay.”

Courtney frowned and looked closer at one of the photographs.

“Tell me again where they keep the wrecked cars during an investigation?”

“There’s a yard down on Gull Road that stores them all.”



The girl at the counter must have been cold in those cut off shorts. She let Courtney through to the yard when the detective had flashed her badge. Courtney made a beeline for the sedan that had added to the pileup. The whole front of the car was crumpled and blackened. The interior wasn’t much better. Completely black and nearly unrecognizable. With considerable effort, Courtney cracked open the driver’s side door. Snapping on a glove, she pawed through the blackened upholstery. Finally she hit upon what she’d seen in the photographs and smiled.



“Well, that definitely explains why he didn’t seem to have a lower left arm,” said Lily as Courtney plonked the prosthetic hand down on the examination table. Lily picked it up and looked inside the cuff.

“And luckily, this will also help us to identify our mystery man,” she said. She turned to her computer, pulling up a database.

“Ah, here we go. Jason Gadreel. Interesting name. Forty-one. Many thanks to you detective we can now let his… zero next of kin know that he’s down here.” Lily face creased. “Poor guy.”

Courtney looked at the floor. “Ah well. Anything else come back on everyone? Blood toxicology?”

“The bus driver, sedan and SUV drivers were all clean. I thought I’d save the department some money and not worry about the kids’ blood. It’s doubtful that any of the six-year olds on the bus were intoxicated and driving the bus erratically.”

Courtney huffed out a laugh.

“One weird thing did come back though. Our friend Jason here has several strange blood markers. Apparently, he had cancer. Also, he was in the early stage of AIDS,” Lily said.

Courtney shook her head. “The world just didn’t want to give this guy a break, did it?”



Courtney groaned and let her head fall onto the desk. She hit it harder than she meant to and groaned again.

“What’s wrong, badger?”

“Go away Jake. I don’t need your annoying optimism right now.”

“Aw. Tell me. Maybe I can help. You know, fresh set of eyes and everything.”

Courtney let out a deep breath.

“I went by the hospital this morning to get the victims statements. None of this makes any sense anymore.”

“How so?” Jake cocked his head as Courtney looked up at him.

“The driver of the SUV swears black and blue that he was in his car alone, heading home from work.”

“So?”

“Well, so does the sedan driver. She said she was also alone.”

“…and?”

“There was only two other cars in the crash apart from the bus. So unless our ground beef imitator, Mr. Gadreel, was on the bus, how did he sustain all those injuries?”

Jake frowned. “I see your problem.” He rubbed his forehead. “Have you-”

“Yes I’ve spoken with their doctors. They both say it’s unlikely that their injuries have resulted in head trauma, and thus resulted in memory loss. They were both incredibly fine after the accident.”

“What about-”

“The bus driver is still unconscious.”

Jake shut his mouth. Then he raised a finger. “What about all the kids? Surely you’ve taken their statements too?”

“The statements of twenty overexcited five-year olds is not going to help.”

“Well, what other avenues of investigation do you have?”

“You raise a fair point, detective Evans,” grumbled Courntey.



Courtney felt incredibly out of place walking into the children’s ward. Her parents had doted on her sisters two sons. She herself had never been comfortable around the two boys. Even her black, serious clothes seemed unwelcome here in the brightly lit and gaily colored hallway. She approached the reception desk.

“I’m here to see, uh…” She cleared her threat and pulled her notebook from her pocket. “Lukas Brown,” she said, reading the first name of twenty.

“You’re working on the case of that awful crash, aren’t you?” said the nurse behind the desk. Courtney nodded. The nurse gave Courtney a confidential grimace. “It’s about time. You need to put away whoever caused that dreadful accident. The harm that could have come to all of those kids - it really was a miracle…”

The nurse led her up the corridor and into a room. Five sets of parents, five beds, and five huge piles of get-well cards and flowers filled the room. She nodded to the heads that turned to her as the nurse led her to the far bed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Brown?”

The man and the woman stood up to shake her hand.

“I’m here to ask your son some questions, if that’s okay?”

The two looked at each other.

“Darling, do we need the lawyer present for this?”

Courtney resisted to the urge to roll her eyes.



As she’d suspected, basically all of the information the children could provide was useless. Only a handful of them had even been conscious when they’d been pulled from the wreckage. The closest she’d gotten to concrete information from any of them was a little boy who’d told her he remembered a tall man carrying him away from the crash. There had been speculation about how all the children had escaped the bus before it burst into flames. It seemed there was a good Samaritan somewhere out there.

“He had red stuff on him. And he smelled funny.”

Courtney sighed and pretended to write this down.

“Thank you Danny. But do you remember anything from before the bus crashed?

The boy scrunched up his face.

“It was really loud.”

Courtney knew she’d read somewhere that deep breathing was good for calming oneself. Heavy sighing probably didn’t come under that banner though.

“Thank you for your help Dan. I’ll be sure to give your mom and dad a call if I need anything else,” she said, gathering her jacket and getting up.

“Okay,” said Danny and proceeded to pick his nose.

Courtney looked at her list as she walked away. One name left.



“Olivia is it?”

The girl nodded. She was sat up in bed. Surprisingly she was the only one in this ward. The other beds were empty and she didn’t have two anxious parents hovering about.

“Where’s your mom and dad?”

The little girl smiled, revealing two missing teeth. “Mommy’s at work. She has to work a lot. I don’t have a daddy.”

Courtney shifted in her chair.

“Do you think your mommy would mind if I asked you some questions about the bus crash?”

Olivia’s tiny face creased. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Ah, good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” said Olivia with a bright smile.

“Ah. Okay. Maybe we can start with the bus ride. What do you remember of the events leading up to the crash?”

Olivia crinkled her nose up. “Lea- leading up?”

“What do you remember of before the bus crashed. Before it fell over?”

“Oh! Lots and lots. I remember looking out the window at all the other cars. There were birds in the sky! I like birds.”

“Okay, we’re not talking about the birds. I need you to focus on the cars. Was there a white car?”

“Yep.”

“What about a big blue car?”

“I remember a blue car. It was going very fast. I was watching it. It tried to go in front of the bus. Then the bus stopped really sud- suddenly,” said Olivia.

Courtney sat back. “The blue car, huh?”

“Yep. All the other cars were angry at it. Like ‘eeeeeeeEEE’-”

“They were honking?”

“Yep.”

Courtney scribbled in her notebook. “Thank you Olivia. This is very helpful information.”

“Do you want to know about the man?”

Courtney looked up.

“The man?”

“The man who saved me. Who saved all of us. I remember him.”

Courtney fingered the paper in her notebook. Olivia looked out of the window. There was a serene smile on her little freckled face.

“I remember the bus crashing. My head was very very sore. Then the bus fell over even! The ground came up so fast – wham! And then there was all this white-ness. Like snow, but whiter.”

Olivia’s hands crept around her shoulders. Courtney swallowed.

“It was so warm there. I was floating. You know like when you go swimming and you dive down and you just float around a bit? And then the man was there. He picked me up and he put me on the side of the road. He was so red. It was blood I know. I’m pretty sure it was my blood.”

Courtney frowned.

“Your blood? But you had no injuries when you came in.”

“Yep. Because he took them away. He’s an angel, you know.”

Courtney gave an unconvinced smile.

“An angel huh? He certainly was a hero. I heard about him from the other kids,” she said. Olivia nodded enthusiastically. Courtney gathered her things quickly and stood up.

“Thank you again for this Olivia – you’ve actually been a really big help.”

“You’re welcome!” said Olivia again with another huge smile.



“So the SUV driver is taking the rap?”

“Yep. After we leant on him a bit, he confessed to distracted driving – was texting while changing lanes. Dumbass thing to do really.”

“Yay! Case solved then! Celebratory drinks!” Jake’s smile slid off his face when he saw that Courtney was still staring at the crime scene photos. “Or not?”

“It still doesn’t add up though. Yes, the SUV caused the crash. The sedan knocked the bus over. Fuel tanks on fire, blah, blah. But where does Jason Gadreel come into this? I mean, we know now he was obviously the one who rescued all the kids, but how did he go through a car crash, and not go through a car crash?”

“Was he on the road perhaps? Did the bus fall on him? Was he somehow hit by one of the cars?”

“His injuries aren’t consistent with it. And how did his prosthetic hand end up inside the sedan?”

Courtney continued staring at the pictures. A hand waved in front of her face.

“Earth to Detective C…”

“I – sorry Jake. This has just got me all confused.”

Jake grinned.

“That’s okay. I’ll leave you to it super sleuth. Got a date with Jane tonight anyway. Wish me luck.”

Courtney had already turned back to the photos, her bottom lip between her teeth

“Still there, Court?” Jake asked. She didn’t reply. Jake smiled again and shook his head as he walked away.



The office grew dark around her. Frustrated, Courtney threw down her pen and leant back in her chair. She raked her fingers through her hair and looked at her computer. With nothing else to turn to, she opened her web browser and typed in Jason Gadreel’s name. The first couple of results turned out to be news articles. The first one had a picture of Jason that she recognized from his DMV picture. Lord knew she couldn’t recognize him from his real face. It really was a unique name, she figured, to get a hit instantly. She scrolled through the piece.

HORRIFIC TRAFFIC ACCIDENT ON MAIN STREET

Four teens have been pulled from a horrific t-bone at the intersection of Main and Drake on Monday night. Shockingly, only one has sustained serious injuries. The driver of the 1991 Ford has been summoned to appear in court under accusations of underage drinking and driving under the influence. Jason Gadreel is in a critical condition at the local hospital, but is expected to recover.

Courtney frowned. She navigated to the next article.

TRAGIC HIT AND RUN LEAVES ONE CRITICALLY INJURED

A horrible incident occurred last night when a speeding car clipped young Ms Demi Jackson and Mr Jason Gadreel. Authorities are still on the lookout for a black Cadillac. Both victims were taken to hospital. Despite witnesses saying that Ms Jackson seemed to have ‘disappeared under the wheels like roadkill’ she is miraculously unharmed. Mr Gadreel however is in intensive care and will most likely lose the most part of his left arm.

Courtney sat back again. After a moment, she shook her head. She turned off her computer and headed out.



“You figure out how poor Mr. Gadreel was killed yet?”

“No. Not yet. I have no idea what happened. I put an APB out on his car. Apparently it was found abandoned up there on the highway right near the accident. It ended up in a tow yard.”

“Oh? Was it smashed up too?”

“Nope. Not a scratch on it.”

Lily paused, scalpel in hand.

“Well, if you ever do figure it out, let me know. That way I can fill out the rest of his documentation.”

“Will do.”

“The poor sod is off to be buried by the state tomorrow. Mortician’s already come to pick him up. Left the personal effects behind by accident though. Would you be able to take them over?” Lily nodded to a box on the far end of the workbench.

“Sure.” Courtney went over and peered into the box. There wasn’t much. The man’s clothing and a few loose coins.

“I did have this one weird theory as to what might have happened,’ she said.

“Oh?” said Lily.

Courtney picked at the clothing and grimaced. Even after washing, they were never able to get all of the bloodstains out of crash victims’ effects.

“I thought… you know, never mind. It’s extremely stupid.”

“C’mon Court – you’re killing me here.”

“Nah, it was just something one of the kids said… You know what they’re like; they love to embellish stuff, or just plain make it up. It’s just…” Courtney trailed off. At the bottom of the box was a single feather. Pure and white. Courtney stared at it.

“Total nonsense…” she whispered.

Feeling: Much too sedentary. I need to do... something.

Wearing: PJ pants and my RvB Red Army tee.

Listening to: I See Fire by Ed Sheeran. Man, that song gives me shivers like you wouldn't believe.

Eating: I had cookies and coca-cola for breakfast. Then I ate a banana! I'm so healthy...

(Witty Title Apologizing for Being so Horribly Lax with Posts)

So... My  last post began with me welcoming in 2014. *twiddles forefingers* Oops. I'll just go down the list then... Behold! My year thusly passed:

One of the main reasons I stopped blogging was that I actually got a job! I landed a graphic designer position at a print... place that I will not name here. I had to pack up and move to a horrible little dingy share house bedroom with ZERO internet capabilities in less than a week and began work. It was hard to adjust from doing nothing all day to a 9 to 5 work-week. I also had to learn to feed myself. That resulted in way too much microwave macaroni cheese...

There was also the comedic moment when I went outside to do my laundry and the landlord accidentlly locked me out and drove away. *cue Mission Impossible theme as I climed in through the window*

I made an Enderfriend!

I managed to discover a new talent: I could stick Freddo Frogs to my forehead. I also, at some point, managed to drop the pointy end of a knife on the web between my toes. (I'm just pulling these snippets from my FB timeline XD) I also attended my graduation ceremony! Cap and acape and scroll and all! Woo!

After a few months in the dingy hole, I moved to one of my landlord's other share houses in the area. OMFG I loved that room. It was an old clapboard house that had been raised up on stilts. The ceilings were so incredibly high and the floor was polished wood and I had  FREAKING BAY WINDOW. It was amazing... The kitchen left much to be desired though - especially because it had a hot water tap that sounded like a jet engine taking off. That was in May sometime I think.

Then, comedy of all comedies; I was locked out out of the house AGAIN.That time it was the wind's fault. I had gone out to pay the pizza delivery gal and it slammed the front door shut behind me. Luckily there was an open window. Unluckily it was on the second storey. Luckily there was a ladder. Unluckily I had to set up the ladder precariously on the stairs. Luckily I could get into the window now. Unluckily my hips were too wide to fit. Luckily I was able to grab a chair inside and use it to twist around and get the rest of me through the window. Cue me feeling like a champion and an idiot at the same time.

By this point, I had spent a couple of months at *print place that shall forever be unnamed* and... well... I made some booboos. I learned a hard lesson, that was also incredibly costly, that 'ordinance' and 'ordnance' are two VERY different words... Also, that place was kinda dodgy. My boss could only use certain courier services, because they hadn't paid the bills for others... I still got my pay all and well, but I had a majorly hard time trying to get actual hard copy payslips out of them. The printer of 20 years up and quit, and the admin girl told me too that she was thinking of leaving, so I began looking around for a new job, and low and behold, I got a position at a much nicer, much more respectable sign company right down the street! ^_^ One that did not have mushrooms growing in the carpet of the storage room...

I am still with this new sign company. They're wonderful there; a much bigger team with much nicer facilities and ethics. And they have cake!

I turned 21! Woo! Did not really have a party though. Less woo. *shrug*

At the same time I got my new job, my brother transferred from a university down south to the one in my city. He was having quite a hard time doing the course he was, so decided to change paths and move closer to home. Because I was tired of sharing a house with people I didn't know, and of the grimy, awful kitchen, I agreed to find a place to rent with him. Our new place is really quite great. It has two bedrooms on the second floor, two and a half bathrooms, and a lovely kitchen and lounge area. There was some debate as to who would get which bedroom. Because my name was going on the lease and because I graciously agreed to give up my glorious bay window in the share house, I got to have the bigger room with the two (TWO!) built in cupboards. I did however let my little brother, who is in fact a giant, have the double bed. Which left me stuck with a single. AGAIN. Not once! Not once in my whole life have I had a bed larger than a single! *simmering rage* But it's cool here - that is when the bro does his share of the housework. And I'm just a block away from work, so I don't even need a car.

We have been on quite a few fishing trips! Here are some of the more eventful moments:

Yes. That is an octopus on a hook. O.O

Olive Seasnake right up next to our boat!

FREAKING HUMPBACK POD RIGHT NEXT TO BOAT! :D

We left off with me having written 10,000 words on Flare. I have since finished that novel. It's absolutely terrible still XD I haven't even gone back to do a rough edit yet.

I have since moved on to begin working on the sequel to my first novel, Soulless. It has recently acquired a name; Dreamless. I think I have a theme going here... Any-hoo, it is currently at 22,000-ish wordy-ma-jigs. Currently at a tricky part. Characters are being stubborn and... well, I can't think of a way to get past it yet. 

Getting Soulless published has gone nowhere. I think I've applied to three more agencies now and been rejected by all of them. I have actually run out of agencies to apply to within Australia, so I am now looking at international ones. I best get my butt moving on making up a new application soon. I just have been so caught up with work and TV and writing Dreamless though.

TV! Oh my gosh TV. Jut a rundown of everything I watch now:

Supernatural - It's been going for so long now! I'm not sure why I'm not tired of it. The storylines are getting a bit twisty.

Doctor Who: Oh gods, I love Capaldi as the 12th doctor! Some of the episodes though - and the Chrismas Special just recently... I dunno. They feel so try-hard. Other bits are genius though and make me have all the feels ^_^

Grimm: IS AMAZING. Fullstop.

Once Upon a Time: I got so pissed when I saw that the latest season would be Frozen inspired. I highly disliked the movie that so many people are now obsessed with. But, the season turned out okay. ALSO CAPTAIN SWAN. *swoons*

Brooklyn Nine Nine: Good comedy. I haven't been wathcing it lately though. Not sure why. *shrug*

Castle: So great still! Caskett is official and so completely adorable!

2 Broke Girls: Another that I haven't been keeping up with. *more shrugs*

Marvel's Agents of SHIELD: Pretty great series. Been getting my Marvel hit to tide me over till the next Avengers.

The Vampire Diaries: I can't believe I ever bothered with True Blood (except for those bits where Alexander Skarsgard takes his shirt off). This is where it's at. And oh my giddy aunt, is Damon Salvatiore/Ian Somerhalder the TASTIEST thing in existence.

Sherlock: This show is the BOMB. It might only have three episodes to a season, but oh dear heaven, is it grippingly good.

Chuck: This show has been finished for a good number of years now and I have no idea why I never saw it and then resisted seeing it. It is so freaking funny and adorable and wonderful. My mother is now torn between me wanting to marry Munroe from Grimm and Chuck XD

Fairy Tail: A great anime. I am so excited now that I am getting to the dubbed seasons with the character voice by Michael Jones in it.

Gravity Falls: Dude. This is so not a kids show. AND IT'S AWESOME.

My brother bought an Xbox One. I played Destiny for about three days straight! Then he hid it away in his room and I haven't gotten to play it again... *grumble*

Art! I have been doing so much art! Mostly design at work, but it must have shaken something loose in me because I started doing a comic based on the retarded and hilarious stuff that goes down on the Minecraft server that I play on. The people on there love them and get annoyed when I don't post a new one in a while. It has certainly given me some experience and practice drawing people, which is fantastic.

The other art I have been doing is based around a fandom with which I am now completely obsessed. I am now, and extremely proud to call myself  Cockbite. I have nourished a liking for Roosterteeth for a while now, but now I am hard and fast in love with the whole kit and cockadoodle. I can't wait to get my Achievement Hunter fix each day and the Rooster Teeth Podcast is the highlight of my week. I have, since I began earning money, begun buying myself RT merch by the bucketload. These guys are my life. I am so psyched for August now, because in July last year, they had a campaign to fund thier first full-length feature film called Lazer Team. As part of that fundraiser, they sold 100 VIP tickets to thier convention RTX this year. I was one of the lucky few to grab one. I AM SO EXCITED. I haven't booked my plane tickets or asked for time off yet, but I still absolutely cannot wait to go.

These are the art pieces I have done:

The delicious Ryan Haywood in his GTAV costume

More Ryan!

Here, have some rude Geoff Ramsey too

(He retweeted this I NEARLY DIED)

And of course some lovely mingy Brit

aka: Gavin Free :P

This is a fanart of a fanfic... 

involving Ryan Haywood

Fic-ception!

More Ryan...

Not Rooster Teeth, but still video game inspired ^_^

From that same fanfiction...You may have noticed
that I am now a *tiny* bit obsesed with Ryan...

What's this? A craft project?

Painting finished!

A dog's breakfast...

But suddenly; a whole bag appears!

I call it... the Bag Shot.

It hasn't been all smiles and rainbows in the RT fandom of late though... Just last week, beloved animator and creator of the hit series RWBY, Monty Oum passed away. He was only thirty three, and slipped into a coma resulting from a server allergic reaction during a routine hospital procedure. It was a shock to everyone... I couldn't beleive what I was seeing when I woke up to the news that weekend, and then again a few days later when I started scrolling through Tumlr and saw 'RIP' posts... It was a crippling thought that someone so young and so vital could be snatched away from us... 

I saw the sweetest post on Tumblr about the whole sad situation. I can't remember what it was exactly, but, it was somehting along the lines of imagining that Monty would immediately be signed up to be a muse and instead of when you start on your next creative project and you expect your muse to be some ancient greek goddess with a robe to sit on your shoulder, you get this young asian man with tired eyes and a cheeky smile who dresses like an anime character and kicks ASS at DDR. So that is what I've been imagining lately; Monty on my shoulder, poking me in the face when I get distracted. I guess Monty will never die in that regard; he will live on through all of us, and all that we create from being inspired by him...

We'll miss you Monty; you were freaking amazing.

The only other news I can think of at the moment is my completely non-existent dating life. I have discovered that I live practically under a rock. I meet NO-ONE. I have been trying a few dating apps, but with very little results... I went on two dates with a bloke I could only really see as a mate. I seriously think that there are no men in my city. It's depressing and lonely... Ah well. I'll just have to finish writing these books, get them published, and become a rich, famous author. I should be able to go out then and meet other humans... right?

Feeling: Tired. Neck is sore from so much computer time. Also guilty that my weekend involved barely any writing.

Wearing: My Tower of Pimps tee! Also; pants are for bitches.

Listening to: The Nights by Avicii and Lovers on the Sun by David Guetta on repeat. SO GOOD.

Eating: I had KFC for dinner. That's porbably why my chest feels funny; all that cholestorol is getting to my heart :P

Flare; To Begin Burning Brightly

Good afternoon 2014!

Hah. Look. I spelled the date right.

So, following the trend a myriad of other online blogs, tumblrs, tweets and Facebook posts have, I will welcome the new year. Hi 2014! Nice to meet you. Do you take tea or coffee? Uh-huh, and how many sugars with that?

Honestly though, I don't think I'm as concerned with the change of the year as other people are. On Facebook I've seen posts saying things like "So sick of this year. Can't wait for it to be over. I hope things are better in the new year." I don't understand those people. You may as well say "So sick of this hour. Can't wait for the next one. Maybe it'll be better." There is literally no difference between 11:00pm on December the 31st and 1:00am on January the 1st. If you are trying to make things better in your life, why wait for an arbitrary human construct to give you permission to start? Why not just start right now?

This also means that I don't really make resolutions either. Sure, I have goals that I want to achieve but it doesn't matter to me what the date is. 

This might make me seem a bit like a cynic; I really do appreciate the celebration of bringing in the new year, but I just don't follow the hype as much as others do.

With that dry grumble out of the way, I have much news to announce! Many things have happened!

I finished my university degree! I am now qualified with a Bachelor of New Media Arts, majoring in Media Design.

I sold some art! Seriously, I keep accidentally selling art. I've logged onto DeviantART several times to find that people have just gone and bought prints of the same piece of Doctor Who fanart I did ages ago. I also sold a print of a painting in our graduate exhibition at uni. Go me!

I went fishing! All I caught was bait...

I applied for jobs! And was declined for them all. *sadface*

I'm thinking of making a Youtube channel! It will be a kind of vlog with me talking about all the weird and wonderful dreams I have. Also other things, like me being bad at games and good at writing. Go to The Ink Stained Brain to look at my as yet nonexistent videos and fancy channel art.

And finally, I accidentally wrote half a new book! Seriously. It's already half done. 42,000 words. Somehow, I wrote 10,000 words yesterday. It's boggling my brain a little bit. I suppose the reason it's been so fast and easy is because it's based on the first full novel I ever wrote, Sparks. 

I did a complete overhaul of the plot, deleted one character and added another. Some of the major themes are still there, but a lot of them have been trashed. And I started writing the whole thing from scratch. There has been no copy and paste, mainly because original Sparks was writing in first-person while the new edition, now called Flare is in third-person. I did enjoy writing first-person, but third-person gives a lot more freedom. It's more logical for if an when you want to switch between characters, or show a 'many years ago' style thing.

Which means I should probably update the Sparks info tab at the top of this blog.

Label for the file of notes for Sparks. I designed it to look like a laboratory
filing system label. All I need now is a 'TOP SECRET' stamp.

Now for a question for all you writerly types out there. How do you name your characters? Do you take names from people you already know and let the character take on aspects from them? Do you just pick names that you think sound cool? Do you research name meanings relating to the character's personality?

Personally, I prefer the latter method. I don't think people will ever pick up on looking up names to see what a character's true nature is like, but I like having those little in-jokes.

Feeling: Accomplished. 10,000 words in a day man!

Listening to: O Death sung by Jen Titus from the Supernatural soundtrack. Brr. Chilling. Also Short Change Hero by The Heavy, from the Borderlands 2 soundtrack. Delish.

Wearing: Grey shirt with pink printed tie and denim short shorts. It's an average day.

Eating: Had some Macca's for lunch. I have a miniature Boost bar sitting on my desk staring at me though...

Rejected! Yay!

Good day fine internetters.

So, I've been quite busy lately. I have had a surprising amount of university work to contend with. And contend I have. We aced a presentation just two days ago, and I have been highly commended for my graphic design work in another subject. Work is going very well too. I managed to find several of the posters I designed up in a tavern in town. It's ridiculously satisfying to see one's work actually being used.

But, the main purpose of this post is to let you all know that I got a rejection! Woo! The submission I sent to the Cameron Creswell agency about Soulless in July has finally gotten back to me. Here is the letter:

Dear Ms Hudson,
Thank you for your submission. We have now had a chance to consider this title and do not think we are the best agents to represent you. We already have a long list of client authors and only take on new authors if we believe very strongly in their writing and our ability to place the work.
However, another agent could well have a different and more enthusiastic response to your work and we suggest that you contact some of the other agents listed on the website of the Australian Society of Authors at www.austlitagentsassoc.com.au.
Thank you for thinking of The Cameron Creswell Agency and we wish you all the best in finding an agent and publisher.
Regards,
Sophie Hamley

Now, I'm not too sure whether this is an actual letter or rather a generic reply. But anyways, it's a rejection and the first step towards being published! When I tell people that I got a rejection, they always seem ready to commiserate,  and then seem confused when I smile and tell them that it's a good thing. I mean, I totally expected it. It really is the first step to being published. And now I get to go and ask someone else. I think it's important to have such a positive attitude about it, otherwise I'll just be completely miserable every time someone says no.

And now for other news. I went to a party dressed as a lego block. The theme was 'Toys from your Childhood'. I unfortunately have no pictures, but just know that it was the most epic fifteen-second costume.

I managed to get my hands on the latest Skulduggery Pleasant book, The Last Stand of Dead Men. My goodness. The feels. Me and every other fan I know just want to strangle the author. The moments of comedy were beautiful, but the low moments were so dark and dismal... I cried a couple of times. And the worst part is that I have to wait a whole year for the series finale.

I am now a Supernatural fan. I remember I watched the first season quite a while ago and got a little bored of the 'let's find dad' storyline. But I finally decided to get back into it because I really wanted to meet a character who would appear later in the show. I was so glad I did. The show got considerably better after the first season, and when they introduced that lovable, scruffy, poker-faced angel in a trench coat, Castiel, I was in love. I am now waiting very impatiently for the start of next season. For the start of all the new seasons actually. Everything I love is coming back sometime this October or November. It will be wonderful.
I also entered a Threadless design challenge! I've always wanted to see a Herobrine themed Minecraft tee, so I thought this competition would be the perfect opportunity to try and get one printed. It's my first submission ever, but here's to hoping. To see or vote for my shirt, go here: http://thrdl.es/~/2g3H

And now for some more Soulless art!

Rook and Evie being growly

Rook and Evie being less growly

My own strange version of a chimera

"Quintin Rthrant Xesi Esiorto at your service,"

Faaro Lovell

An old friend of Rook's named Turi.

Feeling: Like I should get back to work.

Eating: Gonna go get the last of my delicious birthday cake.

Listening to: Black and Gold by Sam Sparro.

Wearing: Short shorts and high school senior shirt.

Paradoxes, Pellets, Puzzles and Puft

Look! It's not three o'clock in the morning! I actually managed to finish this one before midnight. Go me.

Anywho, here for your entertainment, is the next installment of the Passage of the Planeswalkers.

It might also be the last for quite a while as I am starting a new fatansy character in a campaign we are going to call The Seeds of Ragnarok. My new character is a warlock by the name of Bubbles the Bloodletter. Dis gon' be gooood...

The weird sorcerer, Orin, was back. He had an elbow in the crystalline gates of Lisseth, effectively keeping them open. He was focussed however, on the two butterflies he held gently between his fingers. He appeared to be trying to make them mate. Lereahl, Rathalohse and Mulch watched in amusement as the newcomer to their group, a small gnome druid named Glo Shortcloack who had black eyes, green hair and a saucepan on her head, offered to help the man. With surprising skill, Glo was able to make the two reluctant insects get down to business quite successfully. Orin seemed delighted and sent the travellers on their way through the portal, only after gratefully kissing Glo.

 

The white magic sizzled around the planeswalkers, drawing them forwards them into some new, mysterious world. In unison, the four felt that they had somehow passed through a doorway. Their vision cleared to see that a huge door had indeed swung shut behind them. Rath and Lereahl glanced knowingly at each other and drew their weapons immediately. The two gnomes looked at them in confusion.

“We’ve been here before,” explained the ranger.

“This plane is called Parallelodox. I don’t know how it came to be, or why it does what it does, but every time you open another door, uh, interesting things are bound to happen,” added Lereahl.

They took in the room before them. The walls were made of smooth, black stone bricks. Out of the corners of one’s eyes, they appeared to bleed. In the middle of the room was a huge stone bowl of deep red blood, held up by a hideously carved claw. Surrounding it in seductively glinting piles, was a mountain of gold and jewels. Mulch gasped. Before anyone could stop her, she had thrown herself at the treasure. She stopped however when the room was suddenly filled with soft, menacing laughter. Wisps of darkness swirled, forming into a humanoid shape in front of Mulch. The creature was eight feet tall and had the head of a vulture. It hunched down, peering with beady eyes into Mulch’s face.

“Greetings... adventurer...” it croaked.

Mulch stared coldly back at it. The others were silent in shock.

“I have a question,” the gnome said.

The vulture demon cocked its scaly head.

“Go on?”

“If I take some of this treasure, do I have to give you anything?”

The vulture smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile.

“No.”

“Trade anything?”

“No.”

“Give up anything at all?”

“No.”

Mulch eyed the demon bird warily, then bent down and picked up a single gold coin.

The vulture demon laughed.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take anything from you. And so I shall take your life...” it hissed. It gestured and suddenly the whole room was plunged into a complete magical darkness.

“Damned,” muttered Mulch.

Lereahl heard a sharp intake of breath on his right, then felt a small hand on his rear. Glo had reached out to find him and Rath in the darkness. Up ahead, he could hear Mulch cursing and stumbling around, causing clinking cascades of gold. The creature screeched and Lereahl raised his bow, hearing Rath do the same, and aimed for the noise.

Something swiped at Mulch in the darkness. She swore again and backpedalled quickly. She couldn’t see even her hand in front of her face in this inky blackness. She reached into her backpack for an item she’d picked up on a recent adventure. She thrust the glowing banner up into the darkness, creating a tinysmall globe of light. The demon screeched again at the light and then again as two arrows whizzed through the darkness, burying themselves in its flesh. Glo had run forwards now, slipping and sliding across the gold. She swung her hammer at the monster, connecting with a sickening thud. Mulch lashed out with a dagger, and narrowly avoided the talons that clawed at her face. She cried out as the hooked beak sank into her shoulder. She turned and dove into the gold pile, the creature’s claws raking across her back. In the darkness, Glo had lost her sense of direction and could no longer reach the demon. Mulch on the other hand, had turned again and leapt from her hiding place in the treasure, hoping to surprise the demon, but instead had leapt into its waiting arms. Another arrow found demon flesh as it gave a triumphant cry. Mulch cried and struggled free of the claws, avoiding the snap of the beak this time. She dove back into the gold pile. With a soft whisper, the darkness around the planeswalkers began to dissipate. The demon gave a displeased growl and then spun at Lereahl as he shot it again. There was sudden movement from behind the demon. Like some strange gold-dwelling shark, Mulch leapt from beneath the surface of the treasure, glee on her face, a dagger in each hand. The demon screamed as she sank them both into its spine. It collapsed in a flurry of hissing darkness.

 

“So, which door?” asked Glo, looking around at the four doors. They’d just finished divvying up the treasure. Lereahl shrugged and strolled towards the door straight across from the one they’d originally stepped through. He grasped the huge brass ring and pulled. The room beyond had another stone bowl of blood in the middle. The walls were black stone too. There were people standing looking through a door on the right hand side of the room. One was tall and blonde, another had a top hat, and the last two were short. The shortest wore a saucepan on her green hair.

“Uh...” said Lereahl. He turned around to see his fellow companions right beside him and staring confusedly back at him from the door on the right in the room behind them.

“That’s us...?” asked Glo, scratching her head.

“I, uh, think so,” said Lereahl, looking again through the door at the other ‘him’. “We’ve created a paradox. This door leads to, well, this room again.”

Rath, however, narrowed his eyes at the other figures. He drew back his bow and fired at the other version of himself – and received an arrow in his ribs from the Rathalohse behind him. Lereahl shut the door quickly as Rath turned and began yelling at himself. The half-elf shook his head, as if to clear it.

“Well. That was weird,” he said. Glo and Mulch nodded, still a bit dumbfounded. Rath just glowered and pulled his arrow out. As they went to open a different door, Lereahl was suddenly struck by how sexy he looked from behind.

 

This room was much easier to adjust to. Growing from an earthy floor was a small forest. The trees were huge and quite shady, and a clear path seemed to lead from their door to the others. Along the path however, were strange bundles. When examined closely, one could see the bones of all sorts of animals, or occasionally a humanoid skull and metal armour. Glo had knelt next to one and was poking it with a stick.

“Pellets,” she said.

“Excuse me?” asked Lereahl.

“Pellets. Owl pellets. They cough them up,” the gnome explained.

“Huh. Well, I don’t see how a little owl could cough up something as big as that. That would have had to come from an owl that’s, what, about ten feet tall?” said Rath. He began to laugh at the idea but then paused mid-chortle, realising what he’d just said. Lereahl’s brow creased.

“Eyes on the sky,” he said warily.

They walked along the forest path, weapons trained nervously on the curiously bright ceiling far above them. The pellets were many here. Lereahl didn’t want to think about how many giant owls had made them. Without warning, the half-elf felt a strange tingling shoot across his chest. He rubbed at the area, looking under his shirt to see the strange magical tattoo there squirming slightly on his skin. The silver owl’s feathers seemed to ripple. There were gasps of fear from the rest of the group and Lereahl was startled as he looked up to see an enormous black owl land silently in front of them. It was, as Rath had guessed, about ten feet tall. Its wingspan was a breath taking thirty feet wide. They all drew their weapons, waiting for the creature to attack. It didn’t however. It looked at Lereahl, head bobbing, huge silvery eyes wide and curious. Lereahl was stunned as it hopped closer. It lowered its enormous head and nuzzled at his chest, knocking him over.

“Er, hi,” he said, stroking one of the white streaks that ran from the corner of its eye up to the tip of its ear feathers. The great black owl twittered softly, seeming to enjoy the petting.

“Why’s it doing that?”  asked Glo.

“Perhaps it likes his owl tattoo,” joked Rath, who’d noticed the half-elf clutching his chest moments before.

“Lereahl has an owl tattoo?” asked Mulch. “How do you know about this, ranger?”

“I uh...” Rath mumbled, his face turning rather pink, but the group was distracted by a soft whooshing noise coming from behind them. Another huge owl, a tawny, was diving towards them, gleaming talons outstretched. The black owl leapt to intercept the giant tawny. The two enormous birds collided with and odd crunch. The tawny shrieked as the black owl’s claws raked its breastbone, spattering the companions with drops of hot blood and feathers. There was another screech behind them and they turned to see three more owls swooping overhead. There was a grey, a brown and a pure white one. Rath, who’d already drawn his bow back when the black owl had landed, turned his arrow instead on the brown one. It hit the owl and sent it plummeting into the trees. His next arrow was true too, downing the huge grey owl as it swooped low, snatching at Mulch and Glo. Glo wasn’t interested in trying to hit the enormous creatures. Instead she ran towards the black and tawny owls who were now screeching and wrestling on the ground, kicking up plumes of dust and knocking down small trees. The tawny threw off the black owl, who then backed down slightly. Glo had her hands up in a peaceful gesture and was calling softly to the tawny owl. The black owl returned to Lereahl. Glo continued cooing to the tawny owl. It stared at her, its intelligent amber eyes cold, but did not attack her. Lereahl had turned now too. He fired and arrow at the pure white owl which had just dived low to claw at him. The white owl was winged and crashed to the ground. It screeched horribly, thrashing and fluttering, its wing dragging behind it. It lashed out, clawing Rathalohse. The ranger strung another arrow and put the creature out of its misery.

Mulch handed Glo a nice fish he’d been saving for a snack. She took the fish and laid it down in front of the tawny owl. The great bird eyed her warily, but then bent down and snatched up the morsel. After a little more coaxing, it allowed itself to be petted, and eventually followed Glo, Mulch, Rath and Lereahl and his black owl towards the next door.

 

The door was a little stuck, seeming to have not been used for some time, despite the well worn path leading to it. They managed to push it open when Lereahl’s new friend gave it a nudge with his head. The room beyond was a dazzlingly white. In the middle of the room, a large white sphere hovered. It was covered in flowing, shifting, spinning gold lettering. The words seemed to be written in every language imaginable and occasionally they could catch one in common as it flitted past. They were words like dreams, happiness and wishes. Lereahl was immediately a bit wary of the room and the sphere. He looked closer at both, but really couldn’t sense anything bad at all. In fact, the room seemed to give off rather pleasant vibes.

“What is it?” asked Mulch, looking starry eyed at the sphere.

“I don’t know,” murmured Lereahl. He began to walk towards the sphere, his arm outstretched. Rathalohse had seen the flickering word wish and begun wondering what his most dearest wish would be. He immediately thought of cheese. He smiled as he imagined having a block of the most delicious cheese ever created. As he imagined this, he suddenly became aware of a lump in his pocket. He put his hand in the pocket, and pulled out a lump of nice yellow cheese. He stared at it in confusion, broke a tiny crumb off and tried it. He almost swooned with delight.

“Guys... It’s a wish machine,” he said groggily, his eyes half closed with happiness.

“A wish machine?” said Mulch, turning back towards the sphere, a thoughtful look on his face. Immediately, the gnome began wishing to be a male again. Somewhere in her adventures, Mulch had once been a he. Through a mysterious and unlucky series of events, he’d been turned into a woman, and cursed to never be able to wear pants again. But no matter how hard Mulch wished, she did not become a man again.

“Damned. It’s not working,” she said grumpily. “You’ve used up the wish on that stupid cheese! I could have been a man again!” she yelled at Rath. Rath looked highly offended.

“Never insult the cheese!” snapped the ranger.

“Guys, stop bickering. I think I know why your wish didn’t work,” said Lereahl. He’d approached the sphere and placed his hand on the swirling gold and white surface and his head had suddenly been filled with images of all sorts of weird and wonderful contraptions. There were incredible folding ladders, amazingly fine suits of armour, the most beautiful weapons imaginable, dazzling, delicious looking foods – but none of these things were magical.

“Your wish was a magical one. I don’t think the machine grants magical things,” Lereahl said, removing his hand from the sphere.

“Oh...” said Mulch. Instead, she began thinking of her second dearest desire. A pair of pants so good that she’d be able to finally wear them again. Suddenly, she was wearing pants. She laughed in delight. They were the softest, most well fitting pants she’d ever worn. As she investigated further, she found that the pants were covered in many zips and pockets and seemed to be infinitely customisable. The gnome beamed with happiness.

Glo was thinking hard about what she might want. She looked up at the half-elf and the human ranger, realising again how short she was as a gnome. She wished that she had some way to be as tall as them. A pair of stilts appeared on her feet. They were comfortable and instantly easy to use. They were also quickly adjustable, allowing her to be as tall or as short as she wanted in a matter of seconds.

Lereahl took a long time to decide. There was really nothing he wanted or needed currently. He had plenty of gold and treasure and his magical bow was something that probably wouldn’t be surpassed by anything the machine could give him. He stroked the black owl’s head thoughtfully as it bent towards him. Then he had an idea. Instantly, the huge black owl was wearing a fitted saddle, tack and barding armour. The armour was silver, black and white, matching the huge owl’s colouration perfectly. The owl was surprised at first, but as he swivelled his head all around, examining the new additions, he hooted in an approving sort of way. The white sphere’s swirling golden words changed to read things like thank you and farewell. The companions chose their next door feeling incredibly happy with their amazing gifts.

 

The next door they pushed open revealed a huge swamp. In the middle of the marsh, they could see a tall, sinister looking tree. Vines hung down from its branches. They swayed in a nonexistent breeze, occasionally coiling like snakes.

“Ooh. We probably shouldn’t go that way,” said Glo. “Those are Assassin Vines. They’ll wrap themselves around you and choke you to death. But they’re the least of your worries. See that tree? That’s an Umbral Banyan. It will grab you and then shift into the Shadow Plane – and then beat you to death there.”

“Huh. Well. Shall we walk around it then?” asked Rath. There were nods from all the others. Although difficult, they did manage to make it through the marsh, avoid the sinister tree, and open another door.

This room was dark. Sitting on a glowing throne of embers on the far wall was creature made of fire. He had the torso and head of a man, and the serpentine tail of a snake. Upon his head and glowing white-hot were a pair of antlers and a crown. He roared and sent a huge fireball towards the four, striking Rathalohse with a sound like mountains colliding. The ranger gave a cry, fell to the ground and stopped moving. The others rushed towards him. His skin and clothing was charred and smoking. He had no breath – no heartbeat. The ranger was dead. The others could only stare in shock. They were brought sharply back to reality as the salamander king bellowed, preparing to fling another fiery blast at them.

“Help me get him out of here,” Lereahl said to the gnomes, hooking his arms under Rath’s shoulders. The gnomes grabbed a leg each and they dragged the body through the nearest door, slamming it in the livid salamander’s face. The two giant owls shook soot from their feathers and looked on curiously as the three companions laid Rathalohse in the grass. They appeared to be in a quiet garden, not that the three really noticed. Mulch reached into her pack with a shaking hand and pulled out a health potion.

“It won’t work,” murmured the half-elf. “He’s already gone.”

Mulch put the potion back. There was silence in the garden. Even the owls had become still, sensing the sadness in the group. Glo had not known the ranger very well, but she was still shocked at how suddenly his life had been extinguished. Mulch had known him for longer. She couldn’t believe that the skinny human was gone. She sat in the grass just staring uncomprehendingly at the body.  Lereahl’s face was screwed up in anguish. He’d known the dairy-loving lunatic longer than any of the others. Sure, he was an adventurer; a warrior; a planeswalker. This sort of thing was expected. Just the other day, they’d mourned Jet and Mange, the seemingly unstoppable shield wielding dwarf, and cannonball-like barbarian halfling. The pair had gone up against demi-gods together. They’d fought valiantly, but had perished. But never had Lereahl seen a companion die right in front of him. He cringed at the thought of burying his friend.

“Uh, guys... I think I might have a way to save your friend,” said Glo. Mulch and Lereahl looked up at her.

“Well, I am a druid. Technically we can, uh, reincarnate people,” she said, wringing her hands.

Lereahl just stared at her.

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” asked Mulch, getting up and wiping at her eyes.

“Well, because I haven’t, you know, actually done it before,” muttered Glo.

Lereahl  got up too.

“Don’t worry. We have faith in you,” he said, taking the small gnome by the shoulders and smiling encouragingly at her.

 

Glo had warned them that the reincarnation process would take a while. When the blinding white dome of light had finally fallen away, Rathalohse struggled to sit up.

“Whoa, calm down, calm down,” said Glo, running forwards to catch him.

“Wha... What happened?” Rathalohse mumbled, looking incredibly dizzy. The other gathered too, expressions ranging from curious to downright alarmed.

“You were hit with the fireball. You, uh, died. But don’t worry! I’ve just finished reincarnating you!” explained Glo. She sounded quite exhausted.

“You didn’t say he’d have a different body!” exclaimed Lereahl. Glo had indeed neglected to mention to them that Rathalohse wouldn’t be the same person, let alone the same species.

“Different body?” asked the groggy Rath.  He looked down to find that his lower legs were slim and covered in brown fur. Curling from his new long, brown hair was a pair of spiralled horns.

“I’m a faun?” he asked in shock.

“Er... A little more than that...” said Glo, pointing behind Rath. He twisted slightly to see that he had hind legs as well as fore.

“You’re a Bariaur,” said Mulch, now trying to suppress a giggle. “A goat centaur!”

“Also, you’re quite busty...” said Lereahl, picking up Rath’s now tattered and burnt swallow-tailed jacket and top hat and handing them to him. Rath looked down.

“I’M A GIRL!?” Her new, angular face was filled with horror.

 

The four decided to rest for a while longer. Rath had collapsed in the grass in shock, her four legs splayed. Mulch sat with her, trying to console her.

“It’s not that bad,” said the gnome. “You’ll get over it after a while. And besides: boobies.”

Lereahl and Glo had left them alone to recover and were now scouting the garden. It seemed very calm here. The owls seemed quite happy to trot along behind their new keepers. The pair eventually came upon the centre of the garden. Here, carved upon a great wooden table, was a riddle.

 

I start as a box, with no lock or key.

Nothing but time and space can open me,

All my life I push towards heaven’s front door,

But I push towards hell just as much, if not more.

I drink of the waters, I breathe from the sky,

But I don’t move an inch till the day that I die.

What am I?

 

Beneath the riddle was a small thorny pencil. Glo scratched her head.

“I’ve always like riddles,” she said. “But they can sometimes stump me really good.” She laughed. Lereahl put a finger to his chin.

“Hm. Stump...”

Then he picked up the pencil and wrote beneath the poem: I am a tree. The riddle vanished. The tabletop then clicked and slid backwards, opening to reveal a hidden compartment. Glo reached in and pulled out their prize. It was a flail. There were four heads and each glowed with a different colour. It felt very magical.

“Here, you should have it. You solved the riddle,” said Glo, trying to hand the flail to Lereahl. The half-elf shook his head however.

“Nah. You keep it. You gave me the answer anyways when you said ‘stump’. It made me begin to think of trees,” he said.

Glo laughed and nodded.

“Fair enough,” she said.

They made their way back to Mulch and Rath. Rath had finally been able to stand up again on her four new legs. She looked grumpy, but definitely less stunned than before. She led the group towards the next door.

“Feel so weird not wearing pants...” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” said Mulch, who then surreptitiously patted her incredible new pants as if to check that they were still there.

 

The sweet scent was enough to knock over a fully grown man and send children into sugar comas. Lereahl pushed to door open wide to reveal the incredible landscape beyond. The earth was made of chocolate, the trees of striped candy. The rocks were enormous sugared lollies, the river of liquid chocolate. The four companions walked inside, looking around in wonder. Glo snapped a sugared flower off a tree and put it in her mouth.

“’s real!” she said around the candy.

“Sweet,” said Mulch, grinning and reaching for a chocolate pebble. The rest of the group were about to dive into the sugary magic too when they heard a strange sound behind them. It was a crunchy marching sound. The four turned to see a large army of five foot tall gingerbread men marching towards them. The ones in the front were smiling and giggling. The ones in the back however, had angry faces iced onto their heads. They were faster and more agile, leaping and flipping through the others.

“Hah! Ninja bread men!” said Rath, pointing. Beneath the rumbling of the gingerbread footsteps, the group could hear the bass thud of something much larger moving through the candy trees. The four gasped as a huge man, made completely of puffy white marshmallow stomped into view. He roared at the sight of the four Planeswalkers. Lereahl drew and arrow from his quiver and grinned at the others.

“Anyone hungry?” he asked slyly.

 

The four sat around the crackling fire as the sunlight dimmed in this strange candy world. They’d made a bonfire of the candy trees, which burned surprisingly well with blue and pink flames.  They were now roasting bits of the marshmallow man over the fire on long candy sticks.

“Well,” said Rathalohse, “that was the most delicious victory I’ve ever had.”

The others laughed. Lereahl turned to his new avian friend and held up a large piece of a ninja-bread man’s head. The black owl leant down and snatched up the treat, seeming to quite enjoy the taste of the ginger bread.