Topher Lydon
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awake... coffeee... something something... up...
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Hall of Mirrors - Æuum – Alpha Site The Hall of Mirrors was a chamber of eternal dusk, its polished granite floor cool and unforgiving beneath Wojciech’s heavy boots. The air was a stagnant, dead thing, smelling of ozone and ancient stone, a profound silence broken only by the quiet rasp of his own breathing. A week had passed in linear time since he last left, but for him, it had been a single, agonizing cycle of memory and training. The clock on his watc
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You know... I can see it...
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Wil’s breath was a fog in the brittle air, as he watched the lines of anguish etched onto Jimmy’s face. He squeezed the lost boy, holding him for a long moment, just there and steady. He could feel the tension, a tight wire wound inside Jimmy that was threatening to snap. Hurdman station howled with the winds, a mournful, hungry sound, as the snow drifted against the glass shelter that held back the worst of the wind-chill and the bitter, soul-draining cold. The wind rattled the brown steel
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So question for you lot. How would you fight back? What would you do in this situation because I feel we'd all tackle this problem differently. So I am curious
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It's funny, almost, to think of the fact that Alvin Katz was in that group of slaves. Such a pivotal character, standing in the midst of such confusion and listening to the man who would become a father to him. It's a good memory for me as a writer, seeing the origin of a great character, and arguably my favourite of the series.
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told you all, Henry's a good egg.
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As for ringing gun barrels... it was a magic musical gun, with... err... a BS-o-meter built in... and ... OK I got carried away in the moment, sue me
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Watches and hand offs. Agent one goes back, hands off watch to another agent. Buys safehouse one. Second agent comes back, gives agent one his watch. Buys safe house two, and so on and so on for let's say ten times for ten agents. Repeat in a different year. Let's say all from 1920 through till 2025. You have your expanding network of lies, and could be done in a day or two... then repeat a week later. And the week after that. Till you have one heck of a mess for the A.O.I. to pick through. That was how I envisioned it. And if you drop or lose it in the Static streams... well that is illegal and the Sylerikon would like a word. You are not permitted in the Statics without a token. This will get explored.
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Outside of Washington D.C. -1993 – December 2nd The wind, a sharp, cold November knife, sliced through the air. It carried the scents of damp earth, woodsmoke from a distant chimney, and the faint, bitter perfume of decaying leaves. It whistled through the skeletal branches of a stand of tall pines that marked the far edge of the property, a sound that was both mournful and clean, a natural music that felt a world away from the chaotic cacophony of
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Welcome to Duncan. And the reason I have trouble talking about Toronto. As I have oft said before, you can do everything right, you can be kind, you can be honest... and still lose everything.
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Fourteen Right, let’s see how brave I really am. Forgive me if… this one breaks down. But I owe it to Duncan. Who was Duncan? He was someone I lost. So this means trudging, wearily, through the streets of Toronto. And I think I have been clear how dark those streets were, and… well, you are going to see. This is a Wil story, because that man is the only man that could pry this out of me. Because Wil’s love for me was constant reassurance that I wasn’t as broken as I believed
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Hugo is going to start getting VERY creative in his little Temporal War. And he gets ruthless with what he brings to bare. Dottie is slowly going to start losing control, as their positions slowly begin to shift. It is earned, though.
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They... yes... they make an appearance. But the next book is called Shattered Citadel, so be prepared for more of the USMC-X to show up.
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Speed, surprise, and violence of action. Henry's lessons will be interesting.
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Also like the fact that in all of this, Stoker's largely dismissed as a non-threat... ahh poor Dottie... poor poor Dottie, Stoker "Ain't Bait"
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They aren't there to shoot Hugo, at least not a lot. They're there mainly to intimidate. And again with Miller, it's all show and tell, pantomime designed to break a man. You are absolutely correct, Dottie's 'Perfect' trap is an illusion. Let's see how Henry teaches Hugo to beat it.
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A year to return to the exact same moment in time. But that isn't going to stop you from visiting the places and the people. As for why Stoker tried it: He loves Hugo, and he knows that Hugo will keep coming back for him as long as he is alive. So he tried to save Hugo the only way he could think of. It wasn't depression, or sadness, or anything of the ilk. That, that was strength of will in my mind, a sacrifice of love for his Hugo. Dottie used it ruthlessly.
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Thomas is a truly alien thing, fascinating because he is not human he might have been once, he might never have been. But then, is Hugo human anymore? The Aggregate of Self vs The Aggregate of Idea. Fascinating pair.
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See, ALL Dottie's fault... that time you forgot you keys : Dottie , The time you forgot that guys name : Dottie , the times you got wrong answers on tests : that was you... all you for not studying... and you can blame it on Dottie because "F -dottie "
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New York City -1953 – December 2nd The air, thick and stale with the scent of old smoke and desperation, hit Wojciech first. The familiar disorienting lurch, the feeling of being stretched thin and then compressed, was a sensation he had learned to endure, but this time it was tinged with a fresh, raw urgency. He arrived in the Tides of Time lounge not with the quiet, scholarly air of a traveler, but with the frantic, purposeful stride of a man on a missio
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To surviving it, for me I am having a lot of trouble talking or writing about Toronto. Sleepless nights stressing over it, so I hear you. It's tough to talk about. I am constantly kicking myself over how foolish I was, and yet I also realize that was the point. I was bound, trapped, and tied in knots and couldn't be myself and reason an out. Richard used to come into my room in the middle of the night, sit on my bed and Demand to know why girls didn't like him. Never mind I had work in the morning, he demanded attention and he was going to have it... Funny when I look back on it. How pathetic that man was, how bitter and how needy. Richard was a Dick in every way.
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oh the book is finished, so it's going to continue to release daily I am just taking a couple of days off of writing NEW material for Shattered Citadel, just need to rest my weary arthritic fingers.... I mean of all the places to get arthritis my fingers!!! I swear when I get to the great beyond, there's going to be a stern talking to the Boss about fair.
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Wait, what piano? What? I am lost... I need to reread my notes... Also taking a couple of days off to just write on my other project, just to clear my head and to get a little sleep.
