Some scars never heal – GS.


Scene setting – Detective Frank Malone’s apartment.

co-written with VunG


Razorbackwriter:  Frank held back slightly as Tommy and Elissa were looking over his study and the wall. Being that Frank was himself a detective as part of the NYPD, to see this sort of mania in the way that Frank had set up his crime wall you would start to think that he himself had now become a fanatic almost. The sheer scale of recorded documents and the piles of files on his desk that he had brought home from work was mind boggling. It was little wonder that Frank would go to Big Joe’s after work to drown himself in booze, rather than come back to the quiet of his apartment and have to face this…day after day. To Frank, his life was on hold. Captive to solving what could best be described as an impossible case. It was easy to see why the department viewed him so suspiciously, as none of the findings made real sense. Rory’s body was taken by whatever it was that killed him. All that was left was a pool of blood. After the incident, Frank was committed since what he had seen had left him in such a state that he was unable to cope with what he saw. Post traumatic stress on a crazy level. Most soldiers don’t suffer this bad so quickly. It was why his wife left him and took his son away. The nightmares – broken nights….screams and haunting visions. At one point he woke up and found himself standing over his wife with a gun pointed at her. It was the last straw. He’d not told his closest friends this….the only one who knew was his therapist – Doctor Lindsay Buchanan. It was after six months of treatment, that he was released and assigned back to the force – but he was never the same.

Tommy, who watched both Elissa and the return of his good friend was very good at reading body language after years of dealing with people and informants. He could see that trace of emotion from Elissa’s face as much as she tried to hide it. You would have to be pretty impassioned not to feel something seeing all this. After Elissa had explained that she didn’t need to be signed to all the time, since she was a mute and not deaf, Tommy spoke out loud.

“That we are, Elissa.” He shook his head as he let out another sigh. “Leads take us nowhere, or….the reports are so bizarre that most people high up dismiss it. All the top brass care about is meeting quotas and keeping the Mayor’s office happy.” Speaking of the mayor’s office reminded him of the fact his lady friend, Tamika worked there and she heard first hand that the Mayor’s office are trying to down play the “incidents” as being just crazy claims made by whack jobs or attentions seekers. It made Tommy angry just thinking about it. In his own office at the New York Times, some of his fellow reporters had gone to putting alien figurines with crude messages on them. If he heard the Ghost busters theme one more time when he went to open an email, he was going to strangle someone.

Frank, suddenly remembered his manners. “Would either of you like coffee? I think I got some twinkies in my cupboard….maybe.”

Tommy was about to take him up on that offer, when he noticed something just peeking out from under Elissa’s scarf. A scar of some description. The Reporter was too nosy for his own good. “Uhm….Elissa. What’s on your neck?” He asked, as Frank shuffled out to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.




VunG:  Truth be told, Elissa was in over her head with this case. As she’d said, she wasn’t a great detective, and while she had some degree of competence, she was more someone you’d put in as support or an extra set of eyes. She was just a sad, depressed, lonely woman without anything left to do in her life except continue on with the closest thing she had left to her old job. And with the exception of nearly getting her throat ripped out by that damn dog, she wasn’t really aware of the things that had ruined her life until after they happened. There was no attempt at therapists for her, she had zero trust in them after they tried to convince her that dogs had no intent of harming her and that her fear was unfounded. No, she was going it alone.

But… then again… as she looked at the two guys here, she realized that at the very least she’d be able to help someone else with some help. It wasn’t much of a boon, as it was likely only going to wind up as an alliance of circumstance, but it was one that she was thankful for. Eventually Tommy would speak up, and when he brought up the commentary on the mayor she immediately winced and nodded, rubbing her temples to keep herself from even thinking about that piece of shit. Hell, Elissa had been lucky in that she had no colleagues to torment her about this case, and even she was ready to tear someone’s throat out just from the stonewalling she’d been getting. It was SO galling that the officials and certain higher-ranking police officials cared so little about the actual results of their jobs. The corrupt policemen disgusted her, and all politicians deserved to be thrown in jail from her experience, it was the sort of thing that made her want to go vigilante on some people’s asses.

She’d be broken out of that destructive train of thought by Frank’s offer of refreshments, and would give him a thin smile and make a gesture showing that she wanted coffee–or rather she wanted something to drink. However, before she could even lower her hand, Tommy took notice of something he really shouldn’t have. Slowly she turned to look at him, her blue eyes hard as ice as she debated whether or not to indulge him. Thing was, he was a reporter, and she knew that even the good people in that profession had an insatiable curiosity.

It would probably just make her life harder if she hid it from him. Sighing, she reached up and pulled the scarf down to reveal the scar. It was a terrifying-looking thing, the entire area on either side of her windpipe was a nasty striated mess, and it wasn’t a small scar set either but rather the full width of… say… a dog’s jaw. It was actually just luck that she’d survived it, the dog’s teeth missed both her trachea and arteries, and when it hit her she fell forward and it released her when its back hit the ground. Still, she was told that the doctor had given her a forty percent chance at survival. She held the reporter’s gaze for several seconds, letting him get his fill of the sight while he could. Then, she’d simply raise her scarf back up and make sure that it properly covered her this time, and after that she would very simply state, ~I hate dogs,~ almost as if it were an unrelated comment.


Stevie Nicks – Edge of Seventeen.

This is my song pick of the week from my car.  I sing this loud and proud with the window down.  Enjoy.

Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she’s singin’
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she’s singin’
Whoo, baby, whoo
Said, whoo

And the days go by
Like a strand in the wind
In the web that is my own
I begin again
Said to my friend, baby
Nothin’ else mattered

He was no more
(He was no more)
Than a baby then
Well, he seemed broken hearted
Somethin’ within him
But the moment
That I first laid
Eyes on him
All alone on the edge of seventeen


Well, I went today
Maybe I will go again
Tomorrow, yeah, yeah
Well, the music there
Well it was hauntingly familiar
When I see you doin’
What I try to do for me
With their words of a poet
And a voice from a choir
And a melody
Nothin’ else mattered

The clouds never expect it
When it rains
But the sea changes colours
But the sea
Does not change
So with the slow graceful flow
Of age
I went forth with an age old
Desire to please
On the edge of seventeen


Well then suddenly
There was no one left standing
In the hall, yeah, yeah
In a flood of tears
That no one really ever heard fall at all
When I went searchin’ for an answer
Up the stairs and down the hall
Not to find an answer
Just to hear the call
Of a nightbird singin’
(Come away)
(Come away)

Well, I hear you (well, I hear you)
In the morning (in the morning)
And I hear you (and I hear you)
At nightfall (at nightfall)
Sometime to be near you
Is to be unable to hear you
My love
I’m a few years older than you
(I’m a few years older than you)


A Bruised Ego – SS

A Bruised Ego.

Scene setting : Greed Castle

Razorbackwriter:  The fine scribbling of a quill upon parchment was the sound that came from a small desk that was covered in sacks of gold coins and jewels of the Prince’s adviser – Warner. A short statured man with a delicate comb over and wearing three pairs of spectacles; two on the top of his head and one perched at the end of his nose. He had been up half the night counting the latest repayment of a loan from one of the Prince’s more recent victims. Mammon could be very convincing about how to create more wealth, but it always ends up costing his victims way more than they had ever imagined. Warner muttered as he placed the quill back in the ink pot and started to stretch since he had been bent over and working tirelessly for hours on end. He was about to go and fetch a maid to bring him a pot of coffee, when the large double doors to the Main hall burst open and there was the Prince of Greed – looking as though he had gone ten rounds with a prize fighter. His glorious purple cape was missing and he had tears and burn marks upon his specially made Italian suit. Mammon’s hair which was normally quite wild was standing on end like he had stuck his finger in a light socket. His right shoulder hung lower than he left and he walked with a slight limp.

Warner slowly took off his glasses and squinted as he observed his Highness’s entrance into the room.

“Your Highness….what in the world happened to you?” the Adviser asked, almost afraid of the answer for he knew the Prince had a dreadful temper. The small man got up from his seat and came around the desk, looking the Prince up and down with a nervous expression. “Not like you to get into a fight at the bar.” Warner assumed that the Prince had bitten off more than he could chew as he knew the Prince enjoyed a drink at the town bar now and again.

The Prince’s face was fearsome to say the least. He held up one finger as though to silence Warner as he approached a large cabinet, stopping a metre or two from it. Mammon then roared and charged the cabinet with force with a loud popping sound being heard as he snapped his shoulder back into place. It was such a sickening sound that Warner flailed slightly. “Err…oh that’s bad.”

Mammon grit his teeth and then straightened up to full height, cracking his neck back into place and then trying to appear calm once more. After taking a long deep breath, the Prince began to explain exactly what happened.

“I never thought that the bookstore could be the newest fight club in town.”

“The bookstore? Sir, are you feeling okay?” Warner could not understand how the humble town’s book store could have the Prince coming home to his castle looking like he did. Mammon started to peel off his ruined jacket and tossed it upon one of the nearest velvet chairs. “I’ve had better days, Warner. First some skank at the bar refuses to serve me, calling it the end of her shift and walks out. THEN I happen to go into the bookstore, since I was bored out of my mind and I meet the most intriguing looking girl.”

Warner was now keenly interested in the Prince’s tale, and since he heard that the Prince still had yet to have a drink, he went to the drink’s cabinet and poured the Prince a glass of whiskey, which he brought back and handed to him, eager to hear more. Mammon took the crystal glass and took a sip, before continuing. “So, I just happen to introduce myself, and….then all of a sudden this…brick…shit house comes in and tries to blow the girl up. I mean….in a book store.”

The adviser took up a small chair and then continued to listen while the Prince was staring into space, remembering the incident as it played out in his head. “Then what happened, M’lord?” Warner asked, perched on the end of the chair and staring up at the Prince with great expectation.

“Well, normally I’d just let the girl get blow to smithereens. I mean, I didn’t know her from jack shit; but…I..STUPIDLY tried to tackle the freak and…he near rubbed my face into the floor. ME?! The Prince of Greed. Damn well busted my shoulder too.”

Warner gasped at the idea of the Prince being laid out by some behemoth. “Did you save the girl, M’lord?” The adviser now keen to know if the Prince’s gallant actions saved the day. This made the Prince angrier than Warner had ever seen him.

“NO! She…stopped the fight. Threw me across the room on my arse!”

At this, Warner burst out laughing. “She saved you?”


“SHUT UP!…JUST SHUT UP!” The Prince roared, as he felt a terrible twinge in his shoulder again. “Oww. Mark my words, Warner. She…and that baboon bottomed freak….are going to regret humiliating me!”

“How Sir?”

At this, the Prince grinned. It was a wicked and most mischievous looking expression you ever saw.

“Let’s just say….I have a lot that owe me a favor or two. Bahahahahaha!”


Hot Gossip – SS


Scene setting : The Park

co-written with Krystal


Krystal:  Maya was a little suspicious at Lydia’s reaction. It hadn’t even been that surprising toher, and she was there. It was very common for new Princes, or Princesses, to rise to their new-found stature by downing the previous monarch in battle. She looked out the tassles and through the window, and she could see their home in the cave from here. They were nearing the destination in which they’d depart from the carriage. “Lady Gabriel has always seemed very strong, and to myself, it’s not a surprise she finally overthrew Belial. Allister and I could’ve gotten ourselves into some big trouble, but luckily it seemed that none of the Royals wanted another fight. They gave us a warning and we left promptly,” she said, glancing at Allister a little angrily.

Allister sunk in his seat a little, hunching his shoulders. He knew good and well it had all been his fault, but he wasn’t about to correct Maya as she covered for him.


Razorbackwriter:  The gossip was juicy as it was delicious to hear. Maya and Allister both offered up what they knew about the death of Belial and the rise of a new Princess to the realms of Hell. What may have seen like a common affair to the likes of Maya, as she described the battle and how Lady Gabriel was a strong contender to defeat Belial without so much as a scratch; was intriguing to the demon of Ambition. The want and lust for power – to be better…oh she must have a greedy streak after all, Lydia thought as she used her slender digits to smooth out her skirt.

Lydia gave a curt nod that the other royals were not at all interested in another fight with Maya and Allister, and who could blame them after taking the head of Belial in such a fashion. Nothing could really compare after that feat.

The carriage started to slow as it reached its destination. The cave like home of Maya and Allister. How did the driver know this? Well, Lydia was able to communicate telepathically whilst speaking to the pair within the carriage, and she also noted how Maya stared outside the window at what must be her abode. Humble as it was. Lydia reached up and tugged on the red ribbon and the carriage rolled to a stop. The door opening by itself.

“Well, here we are. Safe and sound.” Lydia chimed as she waited for the pair to disembark. “You have both been most entertaining, and I look forward to our meeting another time.”

This was her way of saying farewell to the pair. Lydia was now in a dreadful rush to go and relay what she had heard to her Master, the Demon of Greed. Prince Mammon. Oh, she was going to get more than a painted gold star for this. A Duchy in another realm perhaps.

Once Maya and Allister alighted from the carriage, the door would slam shut and the carriage would take off at speed….bound for the Kingdom of Greed.



Krystal:  Maya smiled again, standing up to exit the carriage. “Thank you again for the ride, Domi. We both really appreciate it.” She helped Allister out, and watched the carriage speed away. Maya couldn’t help but feel like they’d been somehow used and that Domi hadn’t just been generous and offered them a random ride from the kindness of her heart. But, they felt fine, and they’d manage to get home faster.



Story continues at the Castle of Greed.

Fantasy fight in the Fiction section – SS


Scene setting : The Book Store

co-written with Zetta & Moo


Zetta:  Blitz walked about the town proudly, with large steps and no concern for the weaker demonic beings that dwelled there. He was making his way directly for the Bookstore, as after his confrontation prior to coming here he felt that the woman he’d been looking for.. They separated upon setting here.. She had work. So now that a bit of time had past he knew almost for sure that she would take to learning more of her new-found strengths. When he had realized she’d been improving their entire time separated before, in the Mansion, he was thrilled for a meeting. But when he put real thought into it, their clashing powers would have obliterated the fabric of the third dimension there, the power that flowed through his body, and her soul brimming with a similar power would have brought that place to ruin.. He believed. Then at the end of his thoughts he was at the entrance to the store and soon inside of it. The walls beyond the bookstore were oversieged with brimstone but inside of the place seemed much more peaceful. The stand-still was evident in a place like this.. Hell was boring, but it had interesting people in it so he had no problem staying for awhile.

He would search for the strongest once-after being halted while he was heading for Astarte. His eyes, ears, and nose laced over every inch of this place too pick up the characters here. Only two of interest. So he moved toward them, though her scent was swarmed with that of thick but ancient paper it was still easy to track as he remembered it well from the couple of times they were close to each other. Astarte was with someone else, that other interesting one here.. Blitz was upon her in the moment after, while she sat and read the book in her hand, he walked up with his hands in his pockets.

“Yoo.” He muttered lowly to only get their attention as he neared. His greeting however was only to alert them before he started his attack, his face smiling lowly. The Demigod’s palm opened and spread out fully as it began to take on a golden glow. A wide emission of Aether was gathering, and at the wave of his other hand, the blast was launched. He felt it fitting to greet her, with the other like this, par agreement.



“Mammon?” Astarte asked, tilting her head back slightly. “As in prince Mammon?” A stupid question, as nobody else had the name. And he fit the profile, alright. She blinked, lowering the book in her hands. “Ah… My name is Astarte.” She started to say something else, but she suddenly felt a familiar presence.
“Blitz–” she turned to greet him, only to find him pointing a palm toward her. Her heart caught momentarily. Oh god, not the bookstore! All the reading material! Her favorite clerk! She made an effort to push Mammon out of the way, just to spare any trouble. A demon with his reputation and personality was not good news in situations like these, or rather after they were finished.
Thinking fast as Blitz lifted his other hand, Astarte mimicked the action. Although rushed, she was somehow able to present him with a similar beam, though silver. She hadn’t exactly gathered as much energy as he had, but her endless flow from her soul gave her enough to let it grow. A matter of control was still in question. Something she’d actually feared since killing several opponents by mistake with this ability. Misuse proved to be deadly.
The beams clashed, creating a shock wave as shelves of books flew back. She had been hoping the bookstore would not fall victim to their destructive forces, but now it was unavoidable.
Had Blitz smiled before attacking? She understood what he was doing. It actually forced a sort of happiness to blossom within her. Crazy as that was, as she was pushing back with more force than he seemed to be using, as his exterior was rather calm. What else could one expect from a demigod though? She gritted her teeth, hating to admit she still wasn’t quite up to par with him.

Razorbackwriter:  The demon Prince was just doing a simple introduction to whom he thought was just a simple girl in the bookstore, when he too heard a male’s voice call out “Yoo” from behind them. The girl had just introduced herself as Astarte to which Mammon nodded simply, not having heard that name before. He was going to reply, when all of a sudden, the girl became panicked and with both hands she thrust them against Mammon’s chest and then gave him a good hard shove that would knock him well off his feet. The Demon stumbled back and hit a shelf of books, which promptly collapsed. This one hit the one behind it, and in a domino affect row after row of books were crashing down. The sky was raining books.

The Demon Prince growled loudly at the girl but this time he was about to find out that an unlikely creature had ventured into the bookstore with one target. A loud crackle and shocking blaze of light came from the opened palms of a tall man that the girl had acknowledged simply as Blitz. Blitz had begun an attack against the girl, the likes of which Mammon had not seen before down in the pits of hell. As he tried to stand up, Astarte would fire back with her own powerful ability in a beam that when it clashed with Blitz’s sent the hapless Demon Prince flying back from the blast wave.

“Wooooooooah!!!” The Demon cried as he hit a pile of destroyed books and broken shelving. His purple cape flying up and over his head, obscuring his sight. The bookshop was being blown apart from the inside by these two, and god knows what happened to the book store owner. He’d have to be awake for this. Ripping off the smoldering cape that he had worn into town, the Demon Prince attempted to stand a third time, and this time he let out an ungodly roar as he used his superhuman strength and speed, to make a charge like tackle at Blitz side on – with the hopes to take him down and stop the attack on the young girl, Astarte.




Zetta:  He allowed their powers to clash and caress each other passionately, so he could get a better understanding of the power she had been spending so much time gaining knowledge on. Blitz was unaware of all the times she had used this strength prior to then and was only happy to now see it having become this. When it came to Aether, it’s color represented all of the properties that formed the energy within. Usually concentrated life-force looked either green or purple in color, and that was because the form it grew from was either benevolent, or malevolent in nature. That color would change depending on the foreign energies within that life. His was golden- a combination of all things with matter put into a single offensive purpose and then manipulated for versatility. As her’s was silver he assumed she had gathered all possible energies except for that which was beyond her.. Which was a feat to be mentioned, as that meant she already understood several natural elements of this world, and had even picked up something else beyond them leading to this different color just a step or two from his.. He knew for sure her power lacked divine energy because she was impure and without heritage, but where she had none of that she could gain access to a source which would normally be beyond a god’s handle. That was Nether, the result of adding demonic forces to life, and twisting it totally into something dreaded. Yet he was sure she had not gotten that far either. Still; he was impressed with her progress, and she likely had even more to show him from their last encounter. But he was not going to fight her just yet, this place was not worth it; and she seemed to like being here as this was where he found her. Two different places altogether and he spots her in the library of both.. “Strong girl..” He said in minor congratulations, but the sound-waves probably did not overpower the clashing of their blasts.

While he studied he had not noticed her beam beginning to overwhelm his own wave of power, the forcefulness provided her with a few feet of distance towards him and her power would soon dominate him at this rate.. He would have pushed more as well, but he had already collected the data he wanted. So now he only watched as his energy completely dissipated before her’s and braced himself for impact. His arms folded across his face in an x-formation as he leaned forward to block off bodily damage except for his extended limbs. Chuckles puffed up within him and then were released in light breaths of a pleased man. When the two collided he held his position firmly, his arms burning slightly from the incinerating and concussive force present but he then swung both of his arms down; destroying the beam’s largest segment which was it’s front and allowed the rest to come onto him. But with those few moments of preparation he got a portal opened inside of his eye, when the blast neared it was sucked up into a vacuum that led to his pocket universe.. Against a beam this wasn’t smart, as the caster could continue to fire while he was locked in transportation and without an instantaneous movement his life would normally be in danger. His invulnerability made this a safer stunt, but he was more reliant on Astarte noticing his strength’s withdrawal. If not he’d have to actually consider a defensive strategy. But then, just as he had dispatched of most of the opposition he was suddenly tackled.

That was the movement he needed to remove himself from the direction of her blast regardless of what she did in retaliation. But with that move he was tackled and now heading to the ground. His reflexes kicked in overdrive in the face of a new opponent. His feet left the ground, but the direction of his body was still wholly under his control, he manipulated his momentum with the purpose of flight to keep himself from the floor. He lightly coughed as they collided. That strength felt like a full-on shoulder-charge against his stomach which pushed out most of the collected air in his lungs and torso. He was hardly harmed though, without the full intent of the jumping able to reach him. So while the demon might have descended, he would then be held up by Blitz only for a moment. The Demigod used this guided momentum to shift the attack into that of a counter, having taken interest in the fight once more. For now it could possibly be a two-on-one, unless Astarte backed out of it which was completely to Blitz’ disliking..

His body twisted vertically until he was on top of the demon and now forced his momentum downward to body-press the front part of the demon onto the ground with tremendous concussive force due to their combined strength put into a collision with the floor beneath. His hand was smoking from the power he suddenly dished out earlier, that radiating heat also pressed against his target’s back but with reduced effects from normal burning damage.



Astarte found herself grinning as she heard his comment. And of course she had. Her ears allowed her to hear long, long distances after all. Though as his own beam disappeared, her heart thumped in her chest as she was too slow to withdraw. She shut off the channel she had going within the next moment, and was relieved to find that he had taken the damage just fine. A sigh escaped her lips as she slumped forward, ears falling forward.
The moment didn’t last though, as Blitz was tackled by Mammon. Oh, it kept getting worse! Knowing Blitz, he would take the challenge, no matter who his opponent was. This wasn’t normally a big deal, because Astarte knew he was very, very capable of handling himself. However, she had a gut feeling that it would not be a pleasant outcome if they did fight.
Blitz and Mammon were still going down, and it was obvious that they were targeting each other. The hellcat bit her lip. Should she get in Blitz’s way, he might become upset with her. But to hell with it! She decided; it was final. She put her hands in front of her, stretched completely, and then balled them to fists before pulling them apart. Of course the two males were separated instantly. As Astarte had learned to ‘animate’ objects and other beings during her time at the mansion. Mammon would end up on his rear by the mess of books, and Blitz would sit on his under the windows across the room. She let out a huff of air.
Honestly, she had no idea how the prince would react. He seemed as if he were ruthless. Though he had also gotten the wrong idea about the greeting Blitz gave her. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t in any danger,” she explained, addressing him. “Can we leave this shop peacefully?” She never let go of either body, her hands spread away from each other, though still balled in fists.


Razorbackwriter:  When men go head to head, its usually a good idea to stay well clear, right? Not in this case it would seem. The plucky Astarte decided to take matters into her own hands as the Demon Prince and Demigod were about to come to serious blows. Mammon’s face was inches from smacking the ground, with Blitz’s fist pummeling to slam him down front first; when all of a sudden Astarte’s hand seized the Demon Prince and literally threw him along till he landed on a pile of smoldering books. Mammon let out a frustrated howl of protest and flicked his hair back away from his face so he could see his opponent now on the other side of the room under a window. The girl had flung them about like rag dolls in some tempered fit.

Mammon struggled to his feet and glared at each of the pair in turn; especially Astarte who just had to say “Don’t worry, I wasn’t in any danger.” The Demon Prince cocked his head to the right and had a “what the f*ck?” look on his face. The shop was simply in ruins. The many tomes of good books and of course the bad ones were nothing but piles of torn pages and ripped covers. Mammon reefed back from the girl’s grip, as he was quite indignant about the whole affair. The one time he tried to be nice and this is the thanks he gets? But then you have to remember, that this was of course the Demon of Greed who was standing before the pair, and his eyes turned to sharp slits as he realized something else. THIS was a couple. It was like a flickering flame had been ignited within him, and the Demon then brushed down his jacket as though there was only a speck of lint in it.

“Shame…about the bookstore. Pity, I happened to notice that you had enjoyed being amongst the many tomes.” What was the Demon getting at, you might wonder. Oh, he always had a back up plan. Taking out a card from his jacket which had his address written upon it, he offered it to the girl.

“I happen to have a substantial private library within the walls of my castle. Made sure I had the very best selection in all of hell.”

The book store owner would no doubt seek restitution from the destruction of his store and for that, the Demon Prince was willing to pay. All this done of course to gain favour with the girl that had just stopped him from having his dick kicked in the dirt by her brute of a boyfriend.

Though Mammon was still slightly disheveled and sporting an injury to his shoulder that would require attention, he tried to deem himself as being more of a gentleman, than a brute that smacks his lovey with blasts than flowers. Mammon would lick his wounds in private but for now, it was all show.

“Until next time, Astarte.” Mammon tugged on his jacket and on his way out he sung out to the book store owner. “Put it all on my tab.”




A tragic loss to Australian Cricket – RIP Phil Hughes.

Such terrible news yesterday, that Phillip Hughes had passed away in St Vincent’s hospital after receiving a head injury whilst playing the Sheffield shield cricket match at the SCG.  Such a promising and brilliant young cricketer; Phillip was just 25 years old and had been playing cricket most of his life.  His death has impacted not only the Cricket world, but every day Australians who loved to watch him play and were shocked and saddened.  Tributes and a show of support for his family and cricket teams has been unprecedented.