The Pick-Knows

(estimated reading time: 13 minutes)

The Pick-Knows

by

Blaine Arcade

I had a bad morning guys, even though I everytasked as goodly as the other mornings in my collection. First thing out of the matchbox and quilt I cut the iron filings with coffee grounds to really wake up the magnets, angled the solar coins to bounce crystal clear sparkles to the costume glass and gold-painted links, beat the stickers to free the hairs, checked the electric frog battery for tangy white creep, and oiled the swatter so it misses the flies so I don’t miss the joke of the huge-mans missing the flies.

But the morning was still bad. Had to be somebody else’s fault. They made 6 AM sharp, 7:11 sticky, 8 a bad breakfast, 9 lives long, and 10:04 no good buddy. All my stuff looked goldy-oldy at a glance. Then I amble up the right-by and it catches my surprise (that I didn’t even leave out to stale) by doing some pose of the possible that benefits me leastways. Continue reading

Heirs of Cain: Venus in League

Severin Molochi is in love with a goddess.  She’s not the kind found in a church, or that you can take with you to church for that matter.  She’s of the old, muddy, animal line of Cain: those who gained power in the world’s first murder.  Just as Severin and his goddess Wanda are settling in their new home, setting up her future dominion, her jealous siblings come calling, but they’re not after her.  They want every gods’ most valuable asset, the mortal chosen as the conduit between them and the people, who in this case happens to share her bed.

Heirs of Cain, a gothic horror fantasy erotic thriller novelette series, continues here.

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 16 minutes)

Heirs of Cain

Venus in League

Including her name serves no purpose, for she was never going to be a citizen of our village. Such was her stated intent, with so much simulated earnestness that I could not smell the trick, nor could my goddess, lover, and wife Wanda Blasphemer Pelts, until she encountered the applicant up close that is.

Her waiting period was nearly over, which all potential residents of Quarantown had to endure to even step foot over our borders and barriers, both obvious and arcane. The plague called Throng’s Delirium, the impetus for the founding of Quarantown in the first place, before it was commandeered, still in secret, by my Wanda, and before I was wooed as her chief disciple and chiefest confidante, still ravaged the continent. Continue reading

Snakewaist: Hurricane They (finale)

(back to part one)

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 35 minutes)

Winds of Change

Much of their mission passed as a blur once Clove was brought into the fold, as she immediately turned it around, bringing all of them, especially the Spare Changelings, under her wing.

Shortly after the rescue they all reconvened inside Clove’s apartment high in the tree. It was like a fruit, dangling from a high branch and paneled in glass all the way around, its three floors suspended by black wires. It only took meeting her to understand how she secured what had to be one of the best views in the entire tree. Continue reading

Snakewaist: Hurricane They (part one)

Finally, justice for the elemental spirits powering hurricanes.  The humans have decided to use gender neutral pronouns when referring to them, as should have always been the case.  What’s this!?  protest?  They shall know the wrath of the newest and strongest storms in a climate they stoked themselves!  All the elementals need is a harbinger to guide them…

Chaxium and Ladyspiller Onthinice aren’t your typical fairies.  The couple has now spent years on the road, adventuring and battling threats in a changing world with the help of their transforming lizard-shaped vehicle Snakewaist.  Something is amiss with the weather down south, so they head off to investigate, but their best bet for help is Chaxium’s old flame Clove.  Hurricane They is the first novella in a new trilogy for the Snakewaist saga, so feel free to get caught up.

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 20 minutes)

(estimated reading time for entire novella: 2 hours, 55 minutes)

Snakewaist

Hurricane They

by

Blaine Arcade

Squall Tormenta

Occurring in the Bermuda Triangle does not place it there, responsible as it is for many of the famous disappearances at that latitude, and even more longitudinally. Occurring in the Gulf of Mexico does not place it there either. Squall Tormenta exists within an ocean current, so it is placed everywhere that current may touch and can occur without being accused of having moved at the last minute even when that is what happens, to prevent certain undesirable elementals from showing their youthful faces.

Somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico the waters split in a most unbiblical fashion. Like divorcing tectonic plates they opened and drained into themselves, creating a marine canyon of raging waterfall walls and churning floor. From out of the depths came shadows, shadows that pierced walls and floor to reveal both rusted hulks and boulders uprooted. Continue reading

Mysterious America Catalog: ‘True Knothole’

M-A-C (14): ‘True Knothole’

Category: whatsit

Collection Date: (REDACTED), 1979

Collection Location: (REDACTED), Oregon

Collection Report: This MAC was independently discovered by two parties simultaneously; unfortunately only one was trained to handle such things with caution first and discretion second.

The party affiliated with us, Collector (REDACTED), then junior rank, was following the newly established ‘Horseshit Protocol’, by which agents of the Catalog identify and ferret out local ‘horseshit’, ‘bullshit’, ‘(REDACTED)shit’, and ‘batshit’ stories connected to uncatalogued and improperly stored MACs.

His initial lead was a deceased finch that, when dissected, displayed unnaturally braided feathers, Celtic knot intestines, and tangled muscle and optical fibers.

In one of the earliest examples of the protocol’s effectiveness, he was able to trace it back to a (REDACTED) tree approximately (REDACTED) centuries old on an abandoned property, given wide berth by all surrounding trees, some of which suffered unnaturally knotted branches.

He discovered on this tree a large regular knothole, its back and sides invisible when light was shined directly into it. Any object placed within is swallowed in darkness and emerges knotted, regardless of rigidity, with no other damage.

Our collector arrived just fifteen minutes after the other party that stumbled across the tree, a teenage girl who had placed her left arm inside the knothole. No knots resulting from the MAC can be undone, again regardless of material, and while the victim was initially still able to use her hand the limb had to be amputated at the elbow (REDACTED) years later due to poor circulation, apparently from the gradual tightening of the knot.

After this incident the MAC was uprooted live and transported via flatbed to a private collection where it was replanted. There was as security concern, as a trail of knotted insects had been left all along the route traveled, but it was addressed before any incident by varmint control truck 2.

The MAC has been sealed inside a cylindrical box wrapped about the tree, fitted with a door and knotted key that cannot be copied, to prevent future access.

Current Collector: ‘Sisyphus Philosophizer’, senior rank

Notes from Collector: “I use it to make balloon animals for my kids’ birthdays. They take forever to pop. You wanna sanction me for using it, well you go right ahead and go to the trouble of ripping up those roots and hauling it across state lines a second time, on your dime.”

Current Status: active

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Watery and Grave (finale)

(part one)

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 38 minutes)

December 17th

A Very Unlucky Day

Two minions cleared the elk enough for their master to walk through and stand on the ice near the carriage. Their face and body were also obscured by cloak and hood, free of creeping growth but just as tattered as those of their servants. Tavros could see that the person was small, only about half the height of their creations.

“Tavros Celliday?” A woman by her pitch. December pressed her ear against the wooden wall, barely able to hear what was said while her siblings hovered over the giant snowflake they’d found. Their absolute silence was far more important than asking them why it distracted them so. Continue reading

Watery and Grave (part one)

Enchanted to life as little more than festival entertainment, a quartet of ice sculptures find themselves abandoned, quickly becoming acquainted with danger as they flee from steaming food carts, fire-spewing domestic dragons, and the looming threat of a rising sun and a short winter.

As luck would have it, or rather as he forced luck to have it, Tavros Celliday, notary sorcerer and luck tracker, arrives to help them journey to the perpetually frozen north.  When he looks away from their luck, just for a moment, evil swoops in and snatches them away.

Oh and just wait until you find out who the narrator is!  (Yes, it’s me… but who am I!?)

(Estimated reading time: 1 hour, 22 minutes)

(estimated reading time for whole novella: 3 hours)

Watery and Grave

by

Blaine arcade

November 17th

An Overall Unlucky Day

The prevailing sentiment might be that luck doesn’t apply to infants, and that if it does the luck doesn’t take effect until the child is old enough to understand their lot in life. So even if either idea is true, it doesn’t apply here, as the four born that day were born at their full intellectual capacity.

I don’t know about unlucky, but the place they were born was certainly unusual: the fair grounds in the midst of that continent’s biggest annual celebration. It was called the Tiring Week, and it coincided with most large animals settling into their caves and dens for hibernation. On the human side of things they wore themselves out with revelry and craftsmanship, but the best naps they could muster afterward only lasted a day or two.

On day three of the Tiring Week there were many scheduled events including a sledding competition, a magical firework show, and the activity that resulted in the spawning of the four youths that we would call unfortunate if that luck debate was actually settled. Continue reading

Heirs of Cain: Venus in Labor

Severin Molochi is in love with a goddess.  She’s not the kind found in a church, or that you can take with you to church for that matter.  She’s of the old, muddy, animal line of Cain: those who gained power in the world’s first murder.  Just as Severin and his goddess Wanda are settling in their new home, setting up her future dominion, her jealous siblings come calling, but they’re not after her.  They want every gods’ most valuable asset, the mortal chosen as the conduit between them and the people, who in this case happens to share her bed.

Heirs of Cain, a gothic horror fantasy erotic thriller novelette series, continues here.

(estimated reading time: 1 hour, 30 minutes)

Heirs of Cain

Venus in Labor

Accepting their compliments proved difficult, and I had no way of explaining myself either. You see, I, Severin Pelts, still had not informed anyone in Quarantown that my wife, Wanda Blasphemer Pelts, was secretly a bloodthirsty goddess from a smudged and misinterpreted age long before any notions of a Christ child or contemplative Buddha.

One day they would all know, the shock bending them into kneeling prayer, where they would no doubt stay for the remainder of their lives. They’d be fools not to. Already they knew the magnetic draw of her company, knowing it just then at the dinner party I’d arranged, the guest list made up of several early pilgrims to Quarantown who seemed like good candidates for lesser disciples than myself when the time came: Miss Giselle Ulterrine the duck farmer, Giggles Terroir our town sommelier, Doppler Burstyn the mining magnate, and the freshest of them, Godwin Hammerstein, a playwright looking to be heard of. Continue reading

Mysterious Americana Catalog: ‘Firebird’

M-A-C (13): ‘Firebird’

Category: varmint

Collection Date: November 25th, 1999

Collection Location: (REDACTED), New Mexico

Collection Report: A seemingly ordinary frozen turkey was purchased at (REDACTED) Foods and stored in preparation for the (REDACTED) family’s third annual hybrid Mexican-Thanksgiving dinner, where they cooked both traditional holiday dishes and cultural hybrids like pumpkin pie churros and hot pepper stuffing.

When the bird carcass was removed from its opaque bag, in the presence of seven witnesses, it immediately thrashed. It was dropped, but brought itself to its nub feet and aimed at the nearby open door of the oven. The oven was not yet heated, but the turkey ran for it, launched itself inside, and continued to flail.

After some seconds, multiple bystanders witnessed it ‘realize something’ and extract itself before fleeing.

Four individuals pursued it out of the kitchen, out of the house, and through a neighbor’s backyard where it created a dangerous situation by leaping into a vat of boiling oil the neighbor was about to use to deep fry their own turkey. The resulting splash dissuaded all but one pursuer.

Seemingly dissatisfied with the overturned oil as its secondary suicide method, the M-A-C proceeded through the doggy door of the next house over and attempted to insert itself into their oven.

This house belonged to a then-member of the catalog, and they acted quickly in turning away the last pursuer on the grounds of trespassing. After wrangling and registration by catalog varmint control truck 4, it was observed that the carcass, nicknamed ‘Firebird’, would perpetually try to cook itself by any methods available. It could only be contained by keeping it in a pit lined with aluminum foil, where it then ambled perpetually and aimlessly.

Current Collector: (REDACTED) Alvarez, junior rank, expelled

Notes from Collector: “In my defense, I didn’t know my family expected me to host Thanksgiving that year. They showed up and I had nothing… except for a bird begging to be cooked. If anything, it should have counted as research; we now know it tasted normal and didn’t make us run for any open graves.”

Current Status: inactive (consumed), skeleton displays no unusual properties

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Mysterious Americana Catalog: ‘Hon’

M-A-C (12): ‘Hon’

Category: doohickey

Collection Date: (REDACTED), 1986

Collection Location: (REDACTED), North Carolina

Collection Report: M-A-C (12) has a recorded collection date, but no associated report, despite it being the most well-known of the Catalog’s myriad items. That is due to it being featured on the cover of five consecutive issues, just prior to the discontinuation of all cover images.

Picked up from the entryway of one of our collectors’ facilities, and always stored in such a place to discourage it from fleeing, ‘Hon’, as it is called, is a tawny welcome mat three feet and five inches across. It bears the phrase ‘Come on in Hon!’

When insufficient foot traffic passes over Hon it will move about on its own, seeking affection, a state in which it has been witnessed running, jumping, crawling, and placing itself in laps in an apparent demand to be stroked.

This behavior cannot be recorded, as any attempt to move it by force while under surveillance results in a tide of insects emitted instead (those typically living under welcome mats like millipedes, (REDACTED), and wood lice), despite there being no possible source for them.

Current Collector: ‘Brigadoon’: The MAC private museum, gallery, and war room, senior rank

Notes from Collector: “Hon is the mascot of the Catalog, insofar as there can be one. As such his only home is Brigadoon, the largest collection in existence. Visiting hours are never. Get used to it. You want to meet the mat? Get senior rank, get the scars to match, then give us a call. Don’t forget to lose the phone number.”

Current Status: active

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