Author: Jordan

Bad Faith, Part Four

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Like most people, Agnes Pullinsworth was one-of-a-kind in a number of utterly mundane ways. For instance, she is the only human in Skymoore to ever speak the elvish sentence “tohli duv ildamayn ardvnas.” She is the only living person in history to ever set foot in both Rollin’ Roland’s, the bakery in Castiron and Rollin’ Roland’s, the bowling alley in Skymoore. And, perhaps least interestingly but most relevant to the story at hand, she was the first customer to ever visit Odd & Ends.

She hated it, and she left Continue reading “Bad Faith, Part Four” →

Bad Faith, Part One

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A long time ago, sometime after Seamoore became Skymoore and sometime before the present, a number of disabled, sick, pretentious, and otherwise undesirable people were deemed unfit for proper society, and they were quarantined in a crowded district to live in misery together. (Today it is generally agreed that this was an awful thing to do, though that doesn’t do much for the people who languished there.) The resulting region was forced to expand upward, rather than outward, and to become its own self-sustaining ecosystem, containing a little bit of everything if you knew where to look. This jungle of wood and rust, known today as the Mish Mash, was almost a city unto itself, with its own politics, its own culture, and its own leaders. Continue reading “Bad Faith, Part One” →

Left Behind, Part Three

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Pif, Deacon, Alph, and the newcomer all sat huddled around a meal of jerky, cheese, and fruit, filling their bellies after a long day. Off to the side, the Trans-It! energy canister rattled softly as it recharged the five Minitoa’s Double A’s. Almo’s breathing complimented the machine’s rhythm perfectly, a musical reminder of how bad their situation was. Below, Odd & Ends was quiet. The shop was closed for the day, and the owner had retired to his room. Continue reading “Left Behind, Part Three” →

Left Behind, Part Two

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To be honest, Alph rather liked Skymoore.

He wasn’t fond of being stranded and fighting for resources, and he wished the city were of a more convenient size, but it was nice. Back on Ernadam, everything was metal and factories and smog. Skymoore had a little metal and a little smog, but mostly it was quaint. And their blue sky and green plants were much more pleasant than the purples and reds of home.

But it was nice to breathe normally.

Yet Alph couldn’t bring himself to care about getting home as much as everyone else. It wasn’t home he wanted. It was peace.

But there would be no peace today. Continue reading “Left Behind, Part Two” →

Left Behind, Part One

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Deacon stood beside Lilm, his sister, in a field of purple grass. Before them, a rotted temple struggled to stay upright. The sky was the crisp red of a summer afternoon on Aldom. A hundred of their people, all of whom were genetically identical to Abraham Lincoln (not that one) had congregated there, and now watched the pair expectantly.

“I can’t do it,” Lilm said. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“We are faithful,” Deacon said, offering his eight-fingered-hand. “It will work.” Continue reading “Left Behind, Part One” →

Comings & Goings, Part One

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Before moving to Skymoore, Linda Arterford spent some time in self-imposed hermitage. It was a nice life, at first. A pleasant contrast to the constant travel and bloodshed that had composed the years before it. But even paradise grows dull through repetition, so when Donovan Allman invited her to live in Skymoore, she accepted without a second thought. She’d spent much of the second half of her life traveling from place to place, encountering unusual customs and new ways of living. How hard could it be to adjust in Skymoore? Continue reading “Comings & Goings, Part One” →