Tag Archives: tales of the final fall of man

The Clown God, and other news

Posted on February 24, 2023 by Hatboy

Hey there. Long time so see. Long time no … anything but SPSFC, actually. More of that to come but so far I’m at 30% through the first of my 5 (okay, second of my 6 since I already did … Continue reading →

Posted in #SPSFC, Astro Tramp 400, Oræl Rides To War, The Book of Pinian | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

A Railgun Brain, Part XVIII

Posted on December 14, 2021 by Hatboy

He became aware, weirdly, of having eyes and eyelids before he was aware that he was once again seeing things in the usual way. He lay and looked at the clean metal ceiling of C. Sentinax’s medical bay for several … Continue reading →

Posted in Astro Tramp 400, IACM, Oræl Rides To War | Tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

A Railgun Brain, Part XVI

Posted on December 10, 2021 by Hatboy

The pain didn’t flash and fade, didn’t give way to the numb juddering of a body in shock, didn’t wink into the nothingness of a body deceased. It went on, a roaring bonfire through his every boiling fragment, rising beyond … Continue reading →

Posted in Astro Tramp 400, IACM, Oræl Rides To War | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

A Railgun Brain, Part XV

Posted on December 9, 2021 by Hatboy

He slept, but not well. When he woke, and stepped out of the slightly preservative-scented guest quarters, the Colossus was heavily silent around him. “Um, good morning, C. Sentinax?” he called. “Good morning, MagaXidh Ende,” C. Sentinax’s voice came from … Continue reading →

Posted in Astro Tramp 400, IACM, Oræl Rides To War | Tagged , , , , , | 11 Comments

A Railgun Brain, Part XIV

Posted on December 8, 2021 by Hatboy

They ate again, Viator apologising for his lack of familiarity with human patterns of digestion and rest. Once upon a time, he claimed – again without confirming anything specifically – he’d been quite well-versed in primate upkeep. But the skills … Continue reading →

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A Railgun Brain, Part XIII

Posted on December 7, 2021 by Hatboy

“The Repositorium led me to it,” Viator said, “or at least revealed where it had been placed as part of a relic storage effort. Basically a mothballed lab that had run the full gauntlet of shady-fuck ownership. I’m talking the … Continue reading →

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A Railgun Brain, Part XII

Posted on December 6, 2021 by Hatboy

“Welcome back, Commander Broker,” a gravelly human-male voice spoke from a dark, chilly corner of the landing bay as they disembarked and headed for the back of C. Sentinax’s throat. Elan looked up, then turned to Broker and jerked a … Continue reading →

Posted in Astro Tramp 400, IACM, Oræl Rides To War | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

A Railgun Brain, Part XI

Posted on December 5, 2021 by Hatboy

The darkness beyond the Hades line was complete, once again making Elan irrationally glad of his mum’s cardigan. With Þursheim’s sun far, far behind them and the closest stars – if he had to guess, from the slightly larger pinpricks … Continue reading →

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A Railgun Brain, Part X

Posted on December 4, 2021 by Hatboy

Sometimes I ponder the [chalice / urn], and the unquiet [evil, poison, also markers for a struggle, the fight between grace and damnation, check the Old Sloane Concordance for notes on the Angelic and the Demonic, facets of human nature] … Continue reading →

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A Railgun Brain, Part IX

Posted on December 3, 2021 by Hatboy

The Fleet cruiser Broker had somehow finagled for his personal use was really very nice. Elan didn’t think he’d been aboard any private or pleasure vessel that was more luxurious, not that he had been aboard that many. He moved … Continue reading →

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