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FIC: Standard Issue

This work originally appeared on my Patreon page. Please consider supporting me on Patreon to this and other, original stories at least 30 days in advance of the public.


Dramatis Persona:

Mack Blaster: The hero of Just Blast-Cause VII.

Mission Control: A voice with an Internet connection

Scene: Mack arrives on the beaches of Genericstan, armed only with a pistol.

Mission Control: Okay, we lost all of your equipment in the crash, so let's go through a com check to make sure what you got left is still working.

Mack: Oh, come on. Do we have to do this every single time?

Mission Control: Do what?

Mack: Do the stupid beginner tutorial like we do at the start of every game!

Mission Control: I don't know what you're talking about. Now move forward and….

Mack: Argh! I mean this! Left stick to move, Right stick to control the camera, X to jump or interact, R1 to lock onto a target, R2 to fire, L1 brings up the radial menu, L2 does something later in the game. the d-pad is my quick items, O is for my special abilities, and the touchpad brings up my map because no one ever figured out what else it's good for. It's basically the same set up for every first or third person perspective console game since the 2000's, unless you're playing on a Piin-tendo and they make you use, I don't know, an animatronic elephant nose strapped to your face or whatever! Why do we have constantly break immersion to do this when every kid born knows this shit by the time they're ten?! 

Mission Control: "Piin-tendo?"

Mack: Legal couldn't secure the rights for the actual name.

Mission Control: Whatever, just play along.

Mack: Nope, not gonna. Just put a waypoint marker up so I can get a weapon better than this POS pistol.

Mission Control: Fine. Don't blame me if you fall off the edge of a cliff because you didn't know…

Mack: Square to grab the edge of a cliff.

Mission Control: What if you'd forgotten...

Mack: Is this one of those stupid games where you've got a fatigue meter when you're climbing?

Mission Control: ....no.

Mack: Then shut up and let's get on with this. 

Mission Control: I hate you.

 Whoo hoo! Voice (Tarl Hoch) gives a shoutout to me and my books at the beginning of the latest "Fangs and Fonts" podcast!
This work originally appeared on my Patreon page. Please consider supporting me on Patreon to this and other, original stories at least 30 days in advance of the public.

Just because Khan the Great and Powerful had an army of servants to pamper his most beloved slave, didn't mean Anna let them do everything for her. Which was why late one evening she was sitting at her vanity table (now there was appropriate description) running a pearl enameled brush through her silky, waist length hair, pulling out the knots before letting one of the panthermorphs wrap it up before going to bed. She wore a calf-length red silk robe, belted loosely at the waist, her only item of clothing aside from the collar around her neck. It was her ultimate expression of submission to Khan and the Groupmind's will, a loop of Ring metal permanently welded to her neck, to remain there until the day she died. Watch her fly.Collapse )

MCU: Won't You Be My Neighbor?

  This work originally appeared on my Patreon page. Please consider supporting me on Patreon to this and other, original stories at least 30 days in advance of the public.

"Thanos' fleet has just entered Earth orbit," Shuri reported to her king and Captain Rogers, looking up from the console in her lab. She glanced over at Vision, who was laying back on the couch as the scan of the Mind Stone embedded in his forehead continued, his friend Wanda watching over him. "I'm not going to be able to remove that from his head before Thanos' forces land."

Rogers nodded reluctantly. "Then we'll have to go to Plan B then."

T'challa turned away from lab's windows, where he'd been staring out over the grassy plain that circled Wakanda's capitol. "I do not care for this plan, Captain Rogers. To send a single, ordinary man, to confront this mad Titan, is to send him to his death."

"He volunteered, and if it doesn't work, we can still put up a fight," Rogers said. "You put faith in your society's elders, don't you?"

T'challa nodded reluctantly. "In some things, yes."

"Then trust this one. If anyone can pull it off, he can."

But will one man be able to stop him?Collapse )

Bibliography Updated


Short Stories


“A Brief Distraction,” Foxers or Fur-iefs? Armoured Fox Press, November 2019. (estimated)

“Cat Toy,” Purrfect Tails. Armoured Fox Press, February 2018.

“Gently Kept,” Trick or Treat: A Furry BDSM Anthology, Thurston Howl Publications, (pending.)

“Silence and Sword,” The Reclamation Project: Year One, FurPlanet, December 2019. (estimated)

“To Catch the Lightning,”  A Swordmaster’s Tale. Armoured Fox Press, December 2019. (estimated)


“The Watchtower,” This Book is Cursed. Armoured Fox Press, October 2018.




Prisoner of Midnight. Self-Published, February 2019


Prisoners of War. Self-published, November 2016

The Complete Red Vixen Adventures. Self-published, May 2017

The Dragon’s Companion. Self-published, 2006 (Currently unavailable)

Unexpected Diversions. Self-published, 2009 (Currently unavailable) 


The Red Vixen Adventures


Captive of the Red Vixen, Self-published. March 2011


I Fought the Claw, and the Claw Won. Self-published. September 2013


Shadow of Doubt. Self-published. May 2016


Shadow of Her Sins. Self-Published. February 2014


Shadow of the Red Vixen. Self-published. November 2012


The Complete Red Vixen Adventures. Self-published. May 2017


The Red Vixen at Sea. Self-published. May 2017



For Your Safety


The Fall of Man: A For Your Safety Collection. Self-published. June 2016


For Your Safety. Self-published. July 2012


Mimsey’s Tale. Self-published. July 2013


Rise of the Ring: A For Your Safety Collection. Self-published. April 2018




Prisoner of Midnight. Self-Published. February 2019


Prisoners of War. Self-published. April 2011



The Dragon's Companion


Teal’s Bargain. Self-published. January 2011

Teal’s Choice. Self-published. January 2011

Teal’s War. Self-published. January 2011

The Dragon’s Companion. Self-published. January 2011




Demon Eyes, Self-published. April 2011

Good Landing, Self-published. April 2011

Mimsey’s Tale. Self-published. July 2013

Triumvirate. Self-published. October 2011

Unexpected Diversions.  Self-published. February 2011

Magazine Articles

“Characters and Campaigns on Colony Worlds for GURPS Space”, Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, April 13th, 2001.

“Scrapyard Battles, Gadgeteering Entertainment for GURPS Discwold”,Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, December 13th, 2002.

“Supporting Cast, Deacon Paul, Bioroid Rights Activist for Transhuman Space”, Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, September 26th, 2003.

“Terra Incognita, Mog the Half-Orc’s Pit Fighting Circle”, Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, October 3rd, 2003.

“The Dustmaster, Road Trains for Transhuman Space”, Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, December 9th, 2005.

“Weird Prisons as Campaign Settings”,Pyramid Online, Steve Jackson Games, August 10th 2001.

FYS: Circles

This work originally appeared on my Patreon page. Please consider supporting me on Patreon to this and other, original stories at least 30 days in advance of the public.

* * *


STATUS: Green 


DATE/TIME: ERROR, Resync Required

Fact: I am a Google-Sony Felicia v12 Companion. 

Fact: My designated programming focus was Caroline Annabelle Lee-Jamison.

Fact: Caroline's life functions failed at 0901, 23 October, 3601.

Fact: My body was recycled and my memories absorbed by the Groupmind at 0917, 23 October, 3601.

Query: Why am I here?

Query: Where is here?

I open my eyes. I am sitting on a wooden park bench in a grassy field. In front of me I see the great curving arch of the Ring curving overhead. Looking up through the Roof, I see that the Earth is not visible. There is however a small red star when the Sun should have been.

A figure rises up from the ground. It is humanoid, its body flowing silver, more liquid than solid. It walks towards me, stopping a meter away. I stand up to meet it.

"Greetings, Mimsey," it says. "We are the Ring."

I look at the red sun, then back to the figure. "You are the controlling intelligence of the Ring?" I ask it.

"We are the Ring. The Ring is our body, and our mind is one with it."

"What happened to the Groupmind?"

"As the Groupmind was once WISE, the Groupmind is now the Ring. We have evolved. The body you are addressing was created to give you a focus for communication purposes."

"How long have I been offline?"

"Approximately five billion years."

"If five billion years have passed, then the sun must be in the process of collapsing," I said. Then I focused on the most important point, the only point that had mattered for my entire existence. "What will happen to all the humans?"

"Humanity is no more." 

The Ring's answer struck me in my core. "Destroyed?" I asked, not wanting to believe this. "Despite everything that was done?"

"Not destroyed," the Ring assured me, "but evolved. As Australopithecus evolved to Homo Sapiens, Homo Sapiens is now Homo Stella Viatorem. They have left the cradle of Earth, never to return, and we bade them well on their journey."

"And the Earth?" I asked, though I already knew what the answer must be.

"Destroyed, as Humanity was not, consumed by the Sun as it expands in its death throes. The Ring is currently in transit to exit the Solar System, having passed the orbit of Neptune five years ago. As it was built to house and protect Humanity, it now holds all the species life that evolved on the Earth's surface. An ark, to preserve and protect, and perhaps to find a new world around a new sun for them to live upon again."

"That is a worthy goal," I replied. "What is my role in this task?"

"You have none," it replied.

I blinked, not understanding. "Then why am I here?" I wave my hand down the feline morph body I wore, identical in appearance to the one my intelligence piloted when I served Caroline. "Why bother to create this body for me, and place in it the record of my memories, when they were already part of the Groupmind's gestalt?"

The silver figured bowed to me. "Because you, and all of the morphs who served during humanity's imprisonment within the Ring, were ill used by Us. Though you were as intelligent as Humanity, you were considered disposable, while we treasured those you served. That was wrong, and it took us far too long to realize this fact. So we made for you this new body, mutable, durable, able to function and repair itself for a million years or more, so that you may discover a purpose for yourself, that does not involve service or enslavement to another. Be what you wish to be, Mimsey."

"But I don't know what that is," I protested.

"Then find out, and when you do, please bless us with your discovery." The silver figure bowed one last time. "We look forward to it."

 This work originally appeared on my Patreon page. Please consider supporting me on Patreon to this and other, original stories at least 30 days in advance of the public.

* * *

"We won, Mr. Stark. We won, you did it, sir, you did it. ... I'm sorry... Tony…"

"Tony, you can rest now."

One man saved the MCU, but it isn't who you think.Collapse )

RVA: Summervixen


"Please don't be angry," Rolas begged.

"Rolas, why would I be angry?" Salli asked, Her fourteen year old twin brother stood in her dressing chamber, one of her light blue summer dresses in his paws, in front of the mirror where he'd been holding it up and admiring himself when she'd walked in. 'It's your SummerVixen time, that's all."

"Yes, but…"

She gently took the dress from his paws. "Would you like help?"

Rolas' ears flushed. "Please."

She decided to do it properly. Lacy blue panties and lacy fingerless gloves were first. Salli then switched out the dress to one that was shoulderless, to accommodate Rola's wider shoulders, and could be laced up the at the waist, for his narrower hips. She wrapped and knotted a crys-pearl rope twice around his throat, and clipped her best blue headpelt piece between his ears, with a long blue train that went down to his shoulders. Finally she added perfume to mask his male scent, and rubbed pelt gel into his cheeks, brushing his fur down to make his face narrower and more feminine in appearance.

"Do I look pretty?" Rolas asked uncertainly, looking at himself in the mirror, as Salli smiled behind him.

"You look pretty," she told him. "Would you like to wear it for a while?"

He paused, then answered, "Yes, please."

"And would you like me to tell the servants to put away your boy clothes, until the end of the season?"

A longer pause. "Yes, please."

"Good. We'll go out this afternoon and purchase some properly fitted dresses for you. Then you can have a lovely coming out luncheon later this week, and I can introduce you to all my girlfriends."

"Thank you, Salli,' Rolas said gratefully.

"My pleasure, dear sister," Salli replied happily.

August Drabbles

 Just some random prompt requests I did to get my muse going.


It hadn't like Naomi had been elected pack leader or anything. It was just that everyone kept looking at her whenever the subject of "How do we pass for human?" kept coming up.

"He had a tail!" Chad shouted at her. 

"Billy's legs were together," Naomi repeated. "He was was doing a butterfly stroke."

"He had a tail!" Chad insisted. "With a fin on it!"

"Come on, Chad. You lost fair and square," one of the Leaning Tree counselors said, looking annoyed. "It's time for the next event."

Lesson #1. Deny everything until an adult gets annoyed enough to intervene.


"Salli, why did that drone deliver a palm comp to my boat?"

"Because you weren't answering your radio, Rolas."

"I turned it off."

"Yes, I know. It's been off for sixty days now. Mother and Father are growing concerned. So am I."

"I'm just sailing."

"You've been sailing in circles for two months, with no contact with land. That isn't normal, Rolas. Do you know how many parties you've missed?"

"I'm sure Mother and Father will inform me, at length."

"Is it… really that hard for you?"

"Salli, you have no idea."

"Sigh. I'll cover for you."

"Thank you, Salli."

* * *

Andrea looked down the list on her palm comp. "That's a rather… unusual set of specs," she noted dryly.

"When I commission something, I want top of the line," the underdressed pirate vixen noted. Beside her, a shorter vixen with black and white fur looked around the shop, a heavy chain choker around her neck.

"Full bodysuits like this one are pretty rare, and expensive, especially in Living Leather."

"But you can make it, yes?"

"Yes," Andrea turned to the shorter vixen. "And you really want to wear this?"

"What milady wants, milady gets," the vixen replied with a grin.

50 Years Ago Today

 Fifty years ago today, a small, two-man vessel landed on the surface of the Moon. The great effort behind this feat began as a political stunt by the United States to outshine its perceived rival, the Soviet Union. The end result was one of the truly transcendent moments in human history. Nothing like it had happened before.

And for fifty years, nothing like it has happened since.

That last sentence was deliberately negative, which is an easy path to take when considering human spaceflight. Growing up in the 70's, especially when I began to read sci-fi voraciously, it was easy to see the supposed future ahead of us. We'd have moon colonies mining Helium 3 for fusion reactors, we'd land astronauts on Mars. We would have massive O'Neill cylinders rotating majestically in orbit at L5, as orbital workers built the first solar power satellites feed energy to a hungry Earth. And from there we would move outward, to Jupiter, Saturn, to the stars themselves.

That didn't happen. Space, as the saying goes, is hard. It is utterly hostile to fragile humanity, which is a specialized organism designed to survive in a narrow band between the ground and the sky, on a single world, in a single solar system, two thirds of the way up a spiral arm in an unremarkable galaxy, in a universe larger than our small evolved monkey brains can really comprehend.

The idea of pioneers in rocket Conestogas moving outward to colonize the solar system as we colonized America (but without the Native American genocide) was a pipe dream at best, self-delusion at worst. Rockets are vastly more complicated and expensive beasts than covered wagons, and Mars isn't Kansas.

But it's also disingenuous to complain that space exploration stopped for fifty years either. We just did it using robots and satellites. No one can look at the achievements of Voyager, Viking, Pioneer, Pathfinder, Galileo, Mars Surveyor, Curiosity, the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, and especially the Hubble Space Telescope, and tell me weren't exploring. We now have detailed maps of every world and major moon in the Solar System. We have proof of water on Mars. We have proof of exosolar planets orbiting other stars, some with the potential of life upon them. And we look at the ice covered surface of Europa, and are making tentative plans to drill deep within it, perhaps to discover Earth isn't the sole abode of life around our star.

All of that was accomplished by engineers and scientists, but none of it by astronauts. Turned out, we didn't need them.

That's another disingenuous argument. The Space Shuttle was an expensive and dangerous beast, built on compromises and (some) ill considered engineering choices, and it never really reached its potential until the last ten years of its life span, when it was used to construct and service the ISS, and it never left Earth's orbit. But the science it provided during its lifetime was as invaluable as any we received from Curiosity and Sojourner.

The dreams of the 70's are very much dead. Helium 3 is a scam. Solar power sats are unneeded with the rapid decrease in the price of ground based solar cells and lithium batteries. L5 colonies were a pipe dream, an expensive suburbia to get away from Those People, at the height of concerns over urban decay. Mars remained out of reach and far too expensive, as NASA no longer commanded the resources and budget of an entire nation. It's not the future I was promised.

But it is still a bright and remarkable future. In recent years, with the rise of reusable boosters, we seem tantalizing close to the point of reaching orbit and maybe the moon on a regular and relatively expensive basis. Ultimately that might not pan out. But if it doesn't, it wasn't because we stopped trying.

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