Topher Lydon
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Chapter Fifteen Sunday, December 22nd, 2019. 07:30 A.M. EST. WORLD END: T-minus 80 days,4 hours, and 00 minutes. The Situation Room, Langevin Block, Parliament Hill, Ottawa December 22nd, 2019, 7:30 AM The screen on the far wall hummed with static before snapping into the harsh, overlit detail of the Oval Office. On the American side, the scene was a study in performative strength. The President of the United States sat hunched forward behind the Resolute Desk,
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He's got the King of distraction with him, Lil'Bobby Grady, for the win! He's got a Timmy to rescue and carry off into the sunset!
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I've spent much of the day writing about Kyle Harding, and Finn Grady. Which has been an interesting exploration in Good boy vs Bad boy trope subversion, and an equally explosive duel between those two in a modern contemporary setting. I quite enjoy writing about this little village/town in the middle of bug-F**k nowhere Ontario. Lydia is of the opinion that 1. There's got to be something in the water or 2. There aren't enough girls in town so the boys have gone prison rules.
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Rourke's attention is squarely on Sawyer, the townsfolk won't get far, and as far as he is concerned Theo's unarmed and insignificant. He's wrong on both counts.
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for those that are curious as to what a snubnose Schofield looks like as it is a very uncommon weapon:
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I mean, I couldn't have a Speghetti Western without a proper duel, now could I? The Traditional Duelist vs the Modern West. Colt .38LC Lightning vs Schofield .45LC Snubnose Black hat vs White hat. And of course, the town clock. *see fixed it boss!*
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**Chapter 18: The Butcher’s Supper** The descent into Silver Creek was not a ride into a town; it was a ride into a corpse, reanimated and puppeteered by a cold, surgical intelligence. The visceral fury that had propelled them from the ridge, fueled by the smoking horror of the cross, curdled in their guts as the first rooftops slid into view. The expected chaos—the drunken shouts of a victorious gang, the crackle of random gunfire, the leaping flames of wanton destruction—was absen
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I might or might now be writing more Lydia today:
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Ahh his aversion to guns, still entertains me. Happy to carve a bad guy up like a Christmas Turkey on a platter, but a gun... ewww no, yucky
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I did promise you lot, that Hale would get a little just desserts
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Beeping... bloody... timestamps... G-damn... bloody AI... stupid BEEP beeping... beep... with a Beeping Mother of a Beeping toaster oven!
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mmmm a nice Chianti... yum!
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Good morning. Silas done f-d up and he knows it.
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Chapter Fourteen Saturday, December 21st, 2019. 5:30 P.M. WORLD END: T-minus 81 days, 10 hours, and 30 minutes The Plantation Command Post, Ruston Parish, Louisiana. The decaying grandeur of the old antebellum house in Ruston Parish served as Enrico Alvarez’s command center. The structure, now a facade of Southern gothic decay, was a perfect cloak. Inside the main parlor—where Confederate officers once debated honor over mint juleps—the air conditioning unit, a non-negot
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Gene Barry I think... wow now that is going back to Sunday afternoons, after Bonanza at my Grans
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And bear in mind, while they share characters, the events are largely non-canon in the main Carter series. The Coyote books are designed deliberately as fluff, they're a bit of fun for me to write. like... it's a really exaggerated form of the universe/world. I honestly just write this because they are a bit of fun for me, and for you readers. To explain their purpose I am exploring and testing a new writing format with these. A 4/1 style, with "one more chapter" endings... I am teaching myself with these to be a better writer. So again, don't take them too seriously, they're for fun
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The second book of this little series, I will release come the New Year
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There is always the fine print on one of little Timmy McCormick's telegrams...
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At least they are consistent... dumb as a bag of hammers, but consistent.
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only face Andrew would actually recognize for half a continent.
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Perspective, I wrote this from Brian's perspective and I stand by it. Andrew's, I am sure, will be very different. But it does amuse me to give a little bad guy energy. It's the Alex Ryder trope, where MI6 are ALWAYS the bad guys to Ryder. I mean you'd have to be to send a 14 year old off to be a spy like that. So remember it's a trope and I am having fun with it. No CSIS agents were harmed in the filming of this story... Ninja Pastry Chef Giraffe's however...
