Rilbur

Haven't heard of it, but it sounds interesting!

I'm glad you enjoy it! I tried to write in the tradition of detective stories like Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, I'm not sure how well I succeded.

You can *HOPE* for sex, of course... I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you like it when / if I continue the story someday.

I'm glad you enjoyed it, feel free to try some of my other works.

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

'Sir' will do, though I prefer 'Master of the Universe, King of Creation'... and thanks.

Glad you enjoyed it, I do try.

I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope some of your questions were answered.

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

I tried to tip toe through the following statement without offending anyone; please forgive me if I failed. I wanted to focus on one aspect of that comment, without drawing attention to the other half of what I tried to say -- which is still implied if you read closely enough at what isn't there. Frankly, Bettor to Lose was my vote for first place to begin with. My story might have been competitive, but that was just a great story and I would have been shocked to win out over it. The Ghosthouse was also a great story, and while I thought it suffered from bringing back the cold war (could have been justified if there had been something to firmly ground it in the past, rather than an assumed-present) my only real complaint was the way the author 'betrayed' the story by giving in and making it a love-conquers all thing. Both of those stories deserved their wins. Given that I couldn't read the other two stories (terminal stylistic clashes), I won't comment on them further.

A great story, that truly deserves first place. Congrats!

318.7...

Or perhaps they tend to move out to cities where it is more acceptable?

I'm impressed with the players -- that kind of playing is not easy.

If it helps, my brother did 'show and tell' once... Not so much in the from of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' as in 'I don't believe you have one... show it to me! Only if you show me yours!' (Don't even ask how that one came about... I don't remember) I was elven which would have made him nine, possibly ten depending on the exact time of year.

Yeah, they've existed for a while, even come down in price. There's a 3D printer capable of self-replication, and I think it's down to around 100$ in price.

Out of curiosity, how did you get that figure?

There's no easy way to do that, alas. It SHOULD be easy -- the data is presented in HTML on the site, so turning that into EPUB should be a snap -- but the software doesn't really exist.

In an old enough device (i. e. given a LOT of time), electron migration can kill a CPU too -- but that's a general principle, it can't be causing this issue. (Electron migration is the way the 'paths' inside the chip tend to waver a little over time, drifting sideways... if two paths touch, boom goes the CPU)

Epilogue Mathew stood in front of a large door. The cracked wooden surface spoke of age and power, and to his senses it still gleamed with the magic that had been imbued into the building. The Shift had done many things, but the mundane world still believed itself the masters of all creation. Having discovered magic, the mundanes were outraged that they didn't know everything, but after the initial furor was over, they believed again that they knew all they needed to know. They though they

Chapter Eight "What is it with dark magi and old, deserted warehouses?" Mathew complained, glaring at the shimmering, shifting building. "Was there some kind of sale for dark magi seeking hideouts, and these were the only places they liked?" "What's with you and the children's underwear?" Jenkins complained. The deserted warehouse was rather cliche, but the shimmering, semi-translucent shield was the real cause for his anger. Even blood magic could only go so far. Grayson clearly had hid

Chapter Seven Mathew rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. "Invisibility is impossible, but this guy didn't even bother destroying the cameras that had to see him at the hospital. He isn't on a single one of them. No dark haired men who are about five nine, pretty fit, and pale white, no short, long-haired red heads, nothing. How is he doing this!" Jenkins dropped a cup of coffee on the desk. "Did you get any sleep last night?" "Sleep?" Mathew didn't screech. He kept his voice too low for it

Chapter Six "That was a waste of our time," Jenkins growled as they settled in at Mathew's tiny desk in the broom-closet. "An unfortunate distraction, not necessarily a waste," Mathew disagreed. Jenkins snorted. "I calls 'em as I see's 'em, and that was a waste," he disagreed. "They wasted our time cleaning up after their stupidity. Brutalizing one boy just to attack the other? Waste!" "Perhaps," Mathew nodded. "But there is something you've overlooked." "And what might that be?" J

Chapter Five A knock at the door distracted them, and then Jenkins put his head in. "I just got a call from Captain Johnston. There's an emergency, and we need to put pedal to the medal." "Understood," Mathew frowned, pulling his card out of his pocket. "Lily, please, call me." She took the card, shaking, and nodded. "I will," she promised. Mathew stood, nodding to her. "Goodbye, Lily. Be in good health until we meet again." His blessings didn't hold the power they used to, but tha

Chapter Four "Hello Ms. Borges," Jenkins nodded affably. "We're here to talk about yesterday." She smiled, and ushered them into her apartment. "Thank you, Mr. Magi," she told Mathew. "The Pastor can go shove himself, if it weren't for you I'd be dead." "Just doing my job," Mathew smiled back. "Nothing to get too excited over. And please, my name isn't 'Magi'. I'm Mathew Trent, and if you don't think it's too forward, you may address me by my name." "Then please, call me Lily, Mathe