dunno if I've posted this here before, but it almost certainly was hosed in the Hacker attack from a while ago.
the drabble
***
HuAnn Jefferson swore softly from the back seat of the Lincoln Geomancer as she reloaded her twin enchanted automatic pistols. Meanwhile, the animated Tyrannosaurus skeleton gained pace by pace on the sport utility vehicle carrying the plucky UNICORN team.
"What the hell are we going to do, Crimson?" she asked the redheaded sorcerer beside her.
"Cant talk," he replied. "Busy." His fingers a blur, he picked out commands on the laptop in front of him. Several occult symbols flickered briefly across its screen like confetti and coalesced into a rapidly scrolling pattern. "Its going to take some time for me to code this spell. Try to hold it off for two more minutes."
"Just great," she muttered. "If Id known I was going to be fighting skeletons, I wouldnt have gone for the silver nitrate bullets."
"If shed known, she says," chimed in the driver, a fox chimera called Reynard. "If youd had your way, wed have been so loaded down with depleted uranium rounds that we couldnt airlift you with all the cargo carpets in the Army!"
"Shaddap, Reynard!" She gritted her teeth and took aim through the broken window behind her on the menacing skeletal theropod. In a mere second, she had the absolute certainty that her shots would have their maximum effect if she shot . . . NOW!
Twin cracks echoed as the guns fired, and HuAnn knew her shots hit exactly where they were supposed to hit. For all the good it did.
"Why the hell do these museums have to reinforce the display skeletons so much?" she asked of no one in particular.
Grinning, Reynard answered, "So that when atomic liches trade zombie slaves for powerstones, they can animate them and not fear their investment being reduced to dust by international antiterrorists bent on saving the world? Its just a theory Im working on."
Stony silence filled the sport utility vehicle as it zigged and zagged through the underbrush. Then Crimson unleashed a Rebel yell that nearly shattered the eardrums of the much-put-upon sharpshooter.
"Got it!" he exulted. "All I need to do now is execute it!" Softly, he began chanting.
"Checksum error [8A 33 56 F0 E4]. Clear [E9 00 12 BD 43]. Execute program 'DRAGON_SLAVE.MGS' [E8 C6 22 19 A . Return."
Magical energy began whirling about the sorcerer, sucking photons into a sphere of red energy floating an inch above the keyboard. Gingerly, he picked up the ball, turned in his seat and let it fly. It streaked towards the gaping maw behind them, and impacted. A blinding flash, a clap of thunder and a fine rain of plaster and mana-active polymer raining down on the Geomancer indicated the success of the spell.
HuAnn looked at both her companion and his laptop. Shaking her head in wonder, she holstered her guns.
"Where did you get that thing anyway?" she asked warily.
Crimson looked confused for a moment, then smiled softly.
"Why," he replied, "from the Sharper E-mage catalog, of course!"
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
the drabble
***
HuAnn Jefferson swore softly from the back seat of the Lincoln Geomancer as she reloaded her twin enchanted automatic pistols. Meanwhile, the animated Tyrannosaurus skeleton gained pace by pace on the sport utility vehicle carrying the plucky UNICORN team.
"What the hell are we going to do, Crimson?" she asked the redheaded sorcerer beside her.
"Cant talk," he replied. "Busy." His fingers a blur, he picked out commands on the laptop in front of him. Several occult symbols flickered briefly across its screen like confetti and coalesced into a rapidly scrolling pattern. "Its going to take some time for me to code this spell. Try to hold it off for two more minutes."
"Just great," she muttered. "If Id known I was going to be fighting skeletons, I wouldnt have gone for the silver nitrate bullets."
"If shed known, she says," chimed in the driver, a fox chimera called Reynard. "If youd had your way, wed have been so loaded down with depleted uranium rounds that we couldnt airlift you with all the cargo carpets in the Army!"
"Shaddap, Reynard!" She gritted her teeth and took aim through the broken window behind her on the menacing skeletal theropod. In a mere second, she had the absolute certainty that her shots would have their maximum effect if she shot . . . NOW!
Twin cracks echoed as the guns fired, and HuAnn knew her shots hit exactly where they were supposed to hit. For all the good it did.
"Why the hell do these museums have to reinforce the display skeletons so much?" she asked of no one in particular.
Grinning, Reynard answered, "So that when atomic liches trade zombie slaves for powerstones, they can animate them and not fear their investment being reduced to dust by international antiterrorists bent on saving the world? Its just a theory Im working on."
Stony silence filled the sport utility vehicle as it zigged and zagged through the underbrush. Then Crimson unleashed a Rebel yell that nearly shattered the eardrums of the much-put-upon sharpshooter.
"Got it!" he exulted. "All I need to do now is execute it!" Softly, he began chanting.
"Checksum error [8A 33 56 F0 E4]. Clear [E9 00 12 BD 43]. Execute program 'DRAGON_SLAVE.MGS' [E8 C6 22 19 A . Return."
Magical energy began whirling about the sorcerer, sucking photons into a sphere of red energy floating an inch above the keyboard. Gingerly, he picked up the ball, turned in his seat and let it fly. It streaked towards the gaping maw behind them, and impacted. A blinding flash, a clap of thunder and a fine rain of plaster and mana-active polymer raining down on the Geomancer indicated the success of the spell.
HuAnn looked at both her companion and his laptop. Shaking her head in wonder, she holstered her guns.
"Where did you get that thing anyway?" she asked warily.
Crimson looked confused for a moment, then smiled softly.
"Why," he replied, "from the Sharper E-mage catalog, of course!"
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll