You are not alone. (Release date incoming!)

~ Kell Inkston ~ Leave a comment

First, some sick space jams:

Hello, my beloved humans ❤

I apologize for the radio silence for so many days, but I’ve been mad busy getting things ship shape for the joint release of Valiance and Defiance! I think we’re at that point where I can securely announce a release date for them, so here goes!

Valiance_Kindle + Defiance - High Resolution on the 30th!

You can pick up all 12,000+ words of Defiance and all 55,000+ words of Valiance for the low price of $0.99 each from the 30th of June to the 4th of July.

Consider the low price thanks for sticking with me all this time; you people blow me away on a daily basis. Keep in mind, at the 4th the sale will end, upping Valiance’s price to $2.99, so you’ll have to move fast.

This is the projected plan, and if the launch goes well (like, really well) then I’ll get right on book two. If not, I think Kingdom through the Swamp‘s a bit overdue for a sequel, don’t you?

That said, look forward to it! You can keep up to date with any new plans by visiting kellinkston.com, or watching your email if you’re a subscriber. And remember, email subscribers will get Defiance for 100% free!

Roger wilco cosmic out,

Kell Inkstar

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The Death of Flash Fiction Friday… And from the ashes, comes…!?

~ Kell Inkston ~ Leave a comment

Hey friend,

Flash Fiction Friday at Five, (for the three weeks I’ve been doing it, at least,) have been nice, but I’m afraid the experiment’s already run its course.

I expected that a weekly batch of super-quick fiction would be an enjoyable diversion for you, and that it wouldn’t get in the way of my main projects, but I’ve been pulls in a good many directions recently with work and I think focusing on one or two projects would be better. It’s for this reason that this is the final Flash Fiction Friday at Five post. It’s a goofy short about some magical wizards complaining about puns and silly things- I thought it was funny while I was writing it, judge hard.

In its place, I’ll be posting chapters from my new projects, starting very, very soon. This way I can still provide you with fiction you love, while keeping myself on task with the upcoming novels.

Sounds exciting? Well I certainly feel that way. I’ll probably post it up on https://royalroadl.com this time around, as it seems like a very frequented spot for fantasy fiction that I only recently found out about. LOL I’m so out of the loop…

Anyway, expect new chapters of my next project coming up there, so you can read it for 100% free! (It will be quite unlike that radish.com business with Valiance. Not that it was bad, but the primary audience for that app are all into erotica and romance. I outpreformed among the other sci-fi entries, but was crushed in the wider scope when battling the greatness of abs and titties- curse them! I have a good feeling about this place though.)

That said, look forward to the upcoming chapters, and please enjoy the final offering of flash fiction below.

All the best,

Kell

 

Arch-Mage Nias blasts through the triple-frozen double doors of Lord Elsano’s palace of ice. Neither of them are prepared for this- their final day on Earth and their greatest duel.

“Well well well,” Elsano coos with a pretentious sneer, his ridiculously long and pointy nose curling upward to reveal his crooked teeth. “It appears as though my guards weren’t quite frosty enough to prevent even a weak intruder such as yourself,” he adds with an uppity squeal.

Nias shakes his arm to put out the magic fire clinging to it. His profane, pulsing crimson tattoos inscribed across his body slowly sizzle out to a common black ink in appearance. “Weak? Your burns are weak, sir. This is your end,” he says, also putting emphasis on his stupid pun as he scrapes his right foot across the icy floor to enter a fighting stance.

Elsano snickers, sniggers, snorts and even honks in laughter. “Me?! Wow, you really need to chill out!”

Nias smirks as he raises his fists to conjure up another divine explosion. “Say what you will. Things are about to heat up in here, and it won’t just be me!”

“Whoa, that’s a cold shoulder,” the Ice Lord says with an exaggerated shudder.

“You must mean the cold smolder!”

“Your weak puns make it obvious that you’re not the frozen one of legend!”

“I’m about to kick your ash!”

“Ice think not!”

“I thi-”

“Holy shit,” comes a voice from the side.

The two swing around to see an unassuming, shockingly-quiet knight in full armor, cloaked over and folded over each plate to muffle the sound of his metal.

“Ice to meet you!” Elsano says with a raised, white brow.

“You already used that one!” Nias snaps at his frozen foe. He turns back to the knight. “Look, kid, it’s about to be a holocaust up in here, so-”

“Wow,” Elsano interrupts.

“Yeah dude, holy shit,” the knight adds.

Nias flinches and throws up his hands. “That’s a fire word, guys! I’m not talking about the actual Holocaust! Dammit!”

“Yeah, sure,” Elsano peeps with a curling smirk.

“Even so- you knew that, man. Kinda insensitive,” the knight notes.

“Wh- you can’t just repurpose a word exclusively,” Nias argues. “Language is fluid, you can’t just-”

“Oh boy,” the knight starts, “I’m feeling pretty gay today.” He lifts his visor just a notch to shoot an insinuative glare at Nias, who groans immediately.

“Ugh… I guess, but it’s like, that’s different! Holocaust wasn’t a proper noun for an event at first, but gay is still being used as an adjective.”

“Sure,” the knight admits, “But even then you can understand the context it’s being used. Gay’s implications is like way, way less extreme than Holocaust’s. I think maybe you could probably get away with using it when describing an actual fire, but to just throw up a pun like that is sorta uncool, not gonna lie.”

“Yeah,” Elsano notes. “My grandad’s Jewish.”

Nias grins crassly. “Guess that’s where the nose comes from, hu-”

The knight gasps as sirens flare in the ice castle’s windows. “You didn’t fucking just say what I think you sai-”

The beautiful stained-ice windows of the keep shatter brilliantly to reveal Armus, master wind-mage and a powerful social justice warrior.

“The fuck did you just say, shitlord?” Armus screeches, flying in with his magic while furiously typing up a reply to this short in the comments below- though he ultimately won’t post it because he’s afraid it might hurt his cred as a “supportive” blogger.

“Dude, puns,” Elsano notes.

Even Armus isn’t so deluded by his self-righteous pseudo-intellectual Nat-Soc outlook on life that he would dare disrespect the ways of the pun. “Uh-” he mutters. “Right, I’m going to blow you away… you racist, homophobic, drumpf-supporting shitbag!”

Nias holds up a hand as if to halt the insults. “It’s just a facial feature, dude. Chill out. Noses are just noses.”

“But you used it in a derogatory way, man,” the knight explains. “It’s true that everyone’s different and that may look aesthetically dumb or whatever to you, but you can’t just go tearing people up about how they look. They can’t change that.”

“Just like how a person can’t change their gender after birth!” Elsano says- just trying to be helpful, but oh, he was wrong.

Armus drops to the floor, heaving his all-kale breakfast onto its surface. “Did you…” Armus takes a deep breath after coughing up another pile of green. “DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY PEOPLE CAN’T BE FREE TO CHOO-”

“What a shocker!” A voice clears out from the wonderful skylight.

Elasno gasps. “N-not the skylig-”

At that same moment the beautiful, 80,000 Euro skylight crashes in with a bolt-fast man, his hair like conduits of leaping electricity.

The knight sighs. Not another one.

“Isroy!” Elsano yells with a furious stamp of the foot.

“Shocked?” Isroy asks with a grin. “I came here to take the elemental throne for myself!”

“Yeah?” Elsano scoffs. “Well you can’t have it.”

“Hope you’re ready for to restorm yourselves!” Armus says as he charges his wind magic.

There’s a silence as Elsano squints. “Like…. Re… reform?”

Armus looks about at the four others awkwardly. “Y-yeah… b-but at least I have puns!” He doesn’t point because it would be rude, but he sort of gestures over at the knight. “I don’t even know what element you are!”

Nias laughs as he heats up his flames. “Yeah!” he starts. “You all are going right into the oven, but you’ll be the first, knight. I bet you don’t even have an element!”

Everyone just decided to let that other probable holocaust reference slide, but Armus is totally accusing Nias of being a white supremacist after this fight; even though Nias is Latino, it’s obviously white enough.

“Yeah you… cur,” Elsano says with pursed lips and a disgusted look. “I’m going to have to let it go on you if you don’t identify yourself!” he says, gaining an awed chorus from the others.

“Hey, that wasn’t half bad,” Nias said.

“Yeah,” Armus agrees, “I fucking LOVE that movie.”

The knight just shakes his head. “I’m ‘The Grey Wind’,” he says simply, laxly drawing his broadsword, dulled exceptionally with mundane runes.

All of the wizards exchange confused glances. “Yeah, and?” Isroy asks, arcing energy between his fingers as if he were juggling raw power.

The knight’s set back by their demeanor. “Well, I sort of thought you guys would be trying to escape.”

Armus scoffs. “Well why would we? You think you can scare me with your heteronormative gender representation?”

“Well, I’m sort of that knight that’s been running around killing mages for a few months now. Pretty sure it’s been all over social media,” the knight says, clicking on his phone for just a second to display the numerous @thegreywind retweets he has in the latest auto-alert. In just the past ten minutes over seven thousand people loved his most recent tweet: “Bout 2 go fukkup sum moar sparkles. Wish me luck, magic h8erz!! #fuckmagic”

Everyone flinches and scrambles the second he activates his sword’s mundane managraphy, approximately ten-folding the blade’s cutting power against those who have well-used magical veins.

And then the knight killed them all, took a monster shit on the elemental throne, and posted it to his Instagram. Wendy’s nuggets didn’t stand a chance the day magic was wrought and scattered from the Earth out into the black ether of the cosmos.

-The End- :^)

 

 

 

Flash Fiction Friday @ Five PM – 6/1/2017 A DOUBLE FEATURE OH WOW

~ Kell Inkston ~ 1 Comment

Hey friend, it’s a double feature today. One’s stupid, and the other is stupider. Can you figure out which one is which?!!?1

The titles are as follows: The Toll, and Deathkill McSatanman Fights the Doom Dragons of Fuckdeath Mountain

Please enjoy. 16+ for language, violence, and more violence.

The Toll

“Ugh, another toll booth?” Traci groans as Tom shrugs.

“Well it’s not against the law here, so every county tolls it up anyway they can,” he says, just happy little Lewis is sleeping soundly.

Traci sighs with a huff as she leans back into her passenger’s seat. “Whose idea was it to fucking go to the Keys, anyway?”

Tom smirks. “Yours.”

“Well this is garbage, you should’ve told m-” Traci stops herself, seeing the car in front of them swerve off the side of the elevated highway, plummeting into the depths of the ocean. “Oh my God.”

Tom shakes his head. “Was… did that just…”

“Yeah… yeah it did, I don’t know w-” she stops herself again, peeking over the side to discover a sunken reef of cars, each one having swerved off this one point before the toll booth. “What… what the fuck is going on?!”

Tom squints forward. His face pales in fear. “The guy at the booth… it’s the grim reaper!”

“W-what?!”

Tom’s breathing picks up sharply. “We have to… we have to…” He grasps the steering wheel rigidly, as if he’s about to dive them off the highway.

Traci leaps over to secure the wheel. “Don’t do it! Don’t you dare!”

Tom sputters in horror. “B-but we’ll die!”

“We’ll die for sure if you turn off. Just keep going, he’s probably just a… a cosplayer!”

“What?! No! Look at that scythe! And that skull! Oh God, oh God, we’re so close.”

They reach the covered part of the toll and he slows down, because breaking the law by speeding through a check point would be far worse than death, as everyone knows.

Traci places her hand over the mouth of her crying husband. “Chill out, I’ll do the talking,” she says as the flowing, horrific visage of the cloaked darkness approaches them. The scythe shines with surgical, iodine-scented horror, ready to split-through any human that crosses its path.

Traci rolls down the window, leaning awkwardly over a frozen stiff Tom as she presents their I.D.s. “Good afternoon!”

There’s a long, guttural, nasal sound as the grim reaper swallows a quart of mucus. “Wischense ahn fwee fiddy, pwese!”

She pays the tolls, gets back their identification, and sits snidely in her seat as Tom drives through. “Told you.”

 

Survived? Well try this one on for size!

 

Deathkill McSatanman Fights the Doom Dragons of Fuckdeath Mountain

The bitchin’ sandpaper winds of this subspace wasteland are  shitty as fuck, but Deathkill McSatanman doesn’t give a bitch about that. He has his hands full getting jugulars for his master’s jugular collection back at Castle X for Overlord Torment, who’s totally at least a million times better than Overlord Chaos.

Deathkill swipes his hand across a battle jaguar of rapezone 5, separating its body from its jugular easily as the cat’s skin is quickly torn off from the powerful winds.

“Fuck you, bitch, easy,” Deathkill says laxly, flawlessly insulting the battle jaguar’s battle cred by saying the word “easy” at the end.

“RAWRRRRR FUCK YOUUUUU I WAS  OFF GAAAAAME!” The jaguar roars as its body disintegrates into a bunch of stupid fucking bones and shit.

The sandstorm dies down, and Deathkill shoves the stupid jugular vein into his backpack filled with jugulars. He pulls up a magic chat stone, great for dissing the shit out of nerds and scrubs dimensions away.

“Yo,” he says into the stone.

“Heya there, amigo. How’s it goin’?” An alright voice from the stone responds.

“Got at least a hundred more jugulars for your collection.”

“Sweet. No damn way Chaos’ll compete with that. He’ll be like, ‘Oh, look at my vast collection of exotic teas and magic spells!’ And I’ll be all ‘Well check out these jugulars, ya’ biiiiitch!’ Yeah, hehe, it’ll be good. So there’s one more target for you to hit, and then I think we’ll be goodto move on to the anus collection.”

Deathkill rubs his manly stubble as he surveys the savage wilderness around him; there’s a great black mountain sprawling in front of him, spewing sick amounts of lava and heavy metal guitar. “What’s that?”

“Check out that mountain in front of you. Locals call it ‘Fuckdeath Mountain’, because you’re fucked and then you die if you go there.”

Deathkill cranes back in suspicion. “Whoa, like getting fucked, or fucked up?”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Sorry man, yeah, definitely fucked up. This isn’t that part of subspace.”

“Good cuz’ I was gonna’ say-”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that shit man, sorry again I wasn’t totally clear on that.”

Deathkill looks over the far-off mountain, hoping to find an easy route up. “Alright, so what am I killing?”

“Right back to business, I like that,” Torment says with an impressed tone. “I need you to kill all the Doom Dragons of Fuckdeath Mountain.”

“…You said only one jugular.”

“Did I say one? I meant one.., ty.”

“… Onety?”

“Ten, Deathkill. Ten jugulars. There’s ten dragons up there, I want you to take a jugular from each.”

Deathkill nods. Not what was expected, but he doesn’t give a single bitch. “Alright, sounds cool.”

“Rodger dodger, my amigo. See ya’.”

“Deathkill out.” He stuffs the stone back into its place on his person. Without a thought or a word, Deathkill starts through the dunes toward the shadowing mass of Fuckdeath Mountain.

It’s at the base of the mountain when The Subspace Orchestra plays a sick folk-industrial tune from a super niche band, warning Deathkill that something’s nearby, and it’s probably a badass. Deathkill, however, has no bitches to give about badasses running around at the base of what is now his mountain, so he only gives it minimal heed.

Suddenly, an ambush.

Deathkill’s not a giant fucking pussy, so he doesn’t move his head from the black-iron bolt’s path, allowing the projectile to attempt to imbed itself into his skull. The bolt shatters against his skin, fortified with what seems like an eternity of training.

“Weeel weeel weeeel. Wut ‘eev we got ‘eeer’?” A voice emerges from behind the rocks.

Deathkill slowly turns his head to look over the assailant. It’s a drakeman, one of those dragonkin bastard bitches, who fail at being both human and dragon, so usually just fuck about pillaging and being menaces to society. If Deathkill gave even one percent of a bitch about it, he’d murder any dragonkin he met, ‘cuz it was one of those fuckers that killed his mom, and only shitty people kill moms.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Deathkill says, just as another bolt flies into his face, this time his eyeball. Again he decides not to dodge, and the bolt curls harmlessly against his fortress-like body.

“Yeeeer een dreeegen teeeritry, seeerender or yeeel know a feet werse then deth!”

“Bye.” Deathkill walks on, and after another bolt’s shot at him, the dragonkin decides he’s too much of a pussy to back his shit up.

Deathkill travels up the mountain, fending off the occasional ambush by not giving a bitch about it, until he reaches a dark, dank, 420 cave, emitting only the dankest of scents. Deathkill spitefully passes a smattering of posters for “socialist” democratic candidates, each old flavor of candidate covered by whoever’s fresh, though their ideas are still the same old shit.

“Hey maaaaaan,” comes a voice from the darkness, as a mystic flame alights deep in the cave. It’s a wise shithead stoner, posting something “deep and woke” on social media with one hand, while holding his cannabinoid vape set up to his mouth with his other hand.

“What?” Killdeath asks, almost giving one single fucking small bitch, just enough to answer the guy.

“I’m the wise keeper of the cave of trials! Only the worthiest of individuals may pass.”

“Sweet. Let me through.”

The wise monk holds his social media hand up in peace. “Let us test you…” Dramatic music churns up by the Subspace Orchestra, enjoying this spectacle enough to drum out an anticipative piece.

A golden glow overtakes the room as a chalice emerges from the depths of the center pedestal, some mystical well probably used for stupid shit that doesn’t matter.

“Behold, the cup of truth! You must drink this and see your inner being!”

Killdeath picks up the golden cup and smells the silvery liquid inside. It’s obviously poison, but he doesn’t give One. Single. Bitch. He chugs the cup, issuing a chuckle from the evil stoner.

“Now, tell me the truth, you’ve come here for the treasure of the dragons, haven’t you?!”

“Uh, no.”

“W-…” The stoner draws back in shock. The poison really does double as a truth serum, but it seems as though Killdeath is immune! “Well then why are you here, man!”

“I’m just here to tear out their jugulars. Let me through.”

The monk gasps and trembles; vape juice jars leap from his pockets to the floor and he almost drops his really sweet eight-cylinder rig! “B-bro! You can’t fuckin’ do that! They’re like, immortal!”

“If you don’t open this door right the fuck now…”

The monk stumbles over himself as he hits the secret switch. “Man, whatever, just go!”

Killdeath steps through the open door of the cave into a dimly-lit stairwell.

“But don’t say I didn’t warn you, man! You’re gonna be more lit than me! Heh, get it?” The monk says as he inhales another puff.

Onward down into the deep, deadly stairwell, a slew of traps trigger and slam against Killdeath, but not one bitch is given. He moves through a dark chamber, filled with doomworms of Hell X, who he also doesn’t give one damn bitch to.

Finally, he climbs up to the peak, a massive valley-like crater at the summit. All ten of the Doom Dragons rest in a ring around the crater as they stare down upon their massive treasure, containing riches far beyond puny human reckoning. The greatest of their kind raises its head in noble disgust.

“And you, human, dare to steal away our great riches?” it reverberates with draconic majesty.

“Naw. I’m just here to kill you nerds.”

The dragons stare down with humored contempt, as if Deathkill were just a spider crawling across their table that they all are simply allowing to live for the moment solely for the entertainment of its pathetic, crawling existence.

“You surely must be the greatest fool to cross into our bounda-”

“Stop wasting my time and get down here, scale fuckers.”

The ten Doom Dragons of Fuckdeath Mountain breath upon Deathkill, the heat of a molten core slung upon him. Deathkill leaps forward, his fists raised to tear the dragons’  skulls from their stupid fucking necks.

 

Ten minutes later, Deathkill says only one thing:

“Easy.”

 

That was an alright day for him, and Deathkill almost gave a single bitch, but he didn’t want to have to trade that for ten dragon jugulars, so he just got the jugulars and left without giving a bitch.

Not one single bitch, and they were mighty proud of their brother.

“Say Deathkill,” Jaina says, one of Deathkill’s “bitches”.

“Yeah?” He grunts, carrying his heavy pack, now overflowing with jugulars.

“Can we get ice cream after this?”

“Ice cream, ice cream!” Little Yuu exclaims, hopping up and down cheerily.

Deathkill smiles. As annoying as they are, it’s nice to bring his sisters along every now and again on quests.

“Sure thing,” he says, agreeing to give every one of his bitches some ice cream.

 

Yeah wow, that sure was some fiction. Did I write this while drunk? Probably.

That all said, guess what? Valiance‘s prequel, Defiance, is well on its way to completion. Expect to see both published in late June (oh my that’s only like a month away!!! Now I scared myself, I need to recover with some coffee.)

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you next week (or earlier),

Kell

Flash Fiction Friday @ Five PM – 5/26/17 – An Interview with Overlord Chaos

~ Kell Inkston ~ 2 Comments

Interviewer: A.S.A. Kell Inkston

Interviewee: High Overlord Chaos of Dimension #13 – various titles including Slayer of Billions, God-Murdering Tyrant King of the Mystic Realm, Deathless Black Knight of Desolation, Castle Chewer, and as he’s lovingly called around the scribery: The Mean Black Bunny

Location and Greeting: Overlord Chaos’ island castle in Pkt. Dimension #299,399,741 – gate coordinates not to be disclosed on request of Perimeter Security Minion, who approached me when I crossed over and promptly knocked me out. Interview proper takes place after I regained consciousness and explained myself to H.O. Chaos who I am and what I was there for.

It turns out Perimeter Security Minion deigned to have me thrown into a hell-dimension to get rid of me, but Chaos demanded I be spot-checked by V.I.P. Identification Minion, who quickly identified me as an Ascended Scribe. If you’re reading this: thank you, V.I.P. Identification Minion. I once heard Aigoth of the Endless Black Nails was just named so because they were overflowed with tourists and wanted to appear less popular to prospective visitors. Unfortunately, it was just as advertised; would not recommend.

That said, I was sat down in one of Chaos’ gardens, and while a delightful bunch of his minions began preparing tea accoutrements, we exchanged the initial pleasantries and began the interview:

Kell: So nice to talk to you today, High Overlord.

*Chaos grins*

Chaos: Likewise, observer. I am ever pleased to be host to your kind.

Kell: It’s appreciated.

Chaos: Of course. Now ask away.

Kell: So first thing. We have readers from all over The Omniverse, and most already know about you, so I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you really killed over a billion life forms?

*Chaos laughs*

Chaos: I have.

Kell: Would you care to expound on that?

Chaos: Certainly: Anything that harbors a spark movement could be  considered alive. Why, I’m certain you have killed at least a billion life forms?

Kell: And how’s that?

Chaos: Well, have not you ever boiled a pot of water?

Kell: …Yes, I suppose I see where you’re going with that; microscopic organisms?

*Chaos nods*

Chaos: Indeed.

Kell: I believe the readers would be expecting something a little more substantial. For instance: how many sentient life forms have you killed? Just overall.

*Chaos looks aside and rubs his chin the same moment we’re served tea*

Chaos: Ahh! Silver leaf! A fine herb for the drink, do you not agree?

It’s at this time that I make the mistake of laughing.

Kell: You tell me, Overlord.

Chaos: Oh… Oh I apologize. Of course you couldn’t enjoy yourself while on the job. I intended no insult.

Kell: None taken. Thank you for the offer, though.

Chaos: The pleasure is all mine.

Kell: So, a billion?

*Chaos takes a sip of his tea*

Chaos: I haven’t the slightest idea

Kell: Really? No idea how many people you’ve killed?

Chaos: Definitely not; I kept track up to  eighteen million-so, but lost myself after I improved considerably at mass displacement magic.

Kell: I heard about that. You slit an entire army’s worth of people’s throats, all simultaneously.

*Chaos draws back in surprise*

Chaos: Did… did I?

Kell: You did.

Chaos: I feel like I would have remembered something like that.

Kell: You’re well known for your forgetfulness in The Scribery.

Chaos: Oh my… If you all know about it then I must be especially forgetful.

Kell: Indeed, but don’t worry too much. You have flashes of memories. It’s all still up there. That explains why you sometimes can kill an army and other times have trouble getting out of bed in the morning.

Chaos: I have trouble… getting out of bed?

Kell: I’m actually your assigned scribe, so I see everything you do.

*Chaos laughs. He seems pretty good-natured*

Chaos: How many individuals are you assigned to, analyst?

Kell: I’m afraid you’re the one being interviewed.

*Chaos grins*

Chaos: Well, you are the certain one.

Kell: I’m willing to take that risk for my readers.

Chaos: … These readers, what do they read on?

Kell: My… my  blog.

*Chaos’ grin widens and his eyes slant. Cheeky bastard.*

Chaos: Well here’s hoping an interview with me will attract a few more readers.

Kell: Thanks.

*Chaos leans back as he takes another sip. I’ve watched him for so long- but in person, his balance is so perfect it’s eerie.*

Chaos: So does that answer the question?

Kell: It does, thank you. Next up we have some reader questions: One of my readers asked how one becomes like you.

*Chaos laughs*

Chaos: Well, as I’m not a human, a mortal creature couldn’t very well hope to become like me in that they’d match me in power- but they can gain traits like mine.

Kell: What sorts of traits?

Chaos: Everlasting life, wondrous strength, a mind sharper than a razor, immense resistance to any form of duress, the ability to flee in the dark-

Kell: Excuse me.

Chaos: Yes?

Kell: I assume you meant to say “see in the dark”?

*Chaos hums*

Chaos: Isn’t that what I said?

Kell: You said “flee”.

Chaos: Ahh… so I did. Pardon me. Yes, it can all be achieved by submitting to my servitude. It is a finer life, I can guarantee that. Far better than squirming in your mortal trench societies.

Kell: …Indeed. So you mean to say the reader in question should become one of your minions?

Chaos: Had I need for more. I regret to say unless this reader has immense magical potential then I probably won’t bother extending my being to overtake his or her will.

Kell: Wonderful. Would you say your minions are happy?

Chaos: Well you’d know that better than I would, Mister Analyst.

Kell: That’s fair enough. Next question.

Chaos: By all means.

Kell: Who do you dislike most in all your travels?

*Chaos laughs*

Chaos: That is a good one. I think… oh… but then again… perhaps… yes. It’s a tie.

Kell: A tie?

Chaos: Indeed. Royal Knight Order, that snowy little pest, has been a great detriment to my plans of full domination for a great while. If I’m not wrong this year would be roughly our eighty millionth anniversary .

Kell: I guarantee you it’s not that long.

*Chaos’ eyes slant and his grin lessens to a smile*

Chaos: Oh? Well, four eyes, if you’re so smart why don’t you simply tell your little pretend readers just how long the two of us have been fighting.

Kell: I’d rather you didn’t demean my mask. I’m rather sensitive about it. I’m asking simply to hear it from yourself. Plus, I’ve never actually visited you, so I figured it might be a good time.

*Chaos’ grin returns*

Chaos: Pardon me, I am glad you came, Analyst. Tis not every day one meets their angel of causality of sorts.

Kell: Never been called an angel before. I’m flattered.

Chaos: I am certain it is a refreshing change from the usual reaction you get when an individual discovers you’ve been watching them.

Kell: I’ll admit you’re one of the very first not to freak out. I appreciate that.

Chaos: Of course… Now, Order, yes, that mystic witch woman- that midgety little lass… perhaps you know of her?

Kell: I do. Actually, I’m assigned to her as well.

*Chaos scoffs as he wiggles into his chair*

Chaos: They assign males to view females in your adorable scribery?

Kell: It’s not like that.

Chaos: I’m certain.

*The bastard takes a sip of his tea while firing me an incriminating glare. Now I get why his enemies get so angry around him.*

Kell: So… Other than Order, who’s the one she’s tied with?

Chaos: Not so fast; if you’re her analyst as well, could it be that you’ve been assigned to a particular event, rather than random people of interest?

Kell: That’s none of your business.

*He draws in, cradling  his tea cup in both hands.*

Chaos: Who else are you watching? I must know!

Kell: I’ll remind you that using force against an A.S.A. would be inadvisable to say the least.

*Chaos sighs and makes an animated “eye-rolling” motion. He rears off.*

Chaos: Of course, of course. Wouldn’t want to get fated into a ditch now. I have heard that Scribe Director of yours is quite the unpleasant lady. Is she the spiteful sort?

Kell: … You already know the answer to that question, actually. It’s a shame you forgot.

*Chaos lifts his head in regal, crane-like offense before relaxing into the back of his chair. Got him, the bitch.*

Chaos: Very well… now, I suppose you were wondering my tie?

*I nod.*

Chaos: I suppose the other would be Overlord Torment, though the Multi-Soul Amalgamation has also been on my mind of late.

Kell: Right, “The Captain”.

*Chaos grins*

Chaos: Oh, so you know of it as well? I assume it is also one you are assigned to.

Kell: … I’d rather not go into that.

Chaos: So it is true!

*He rears in again*

 

-Interviewer note: In the interest of not spoiling Nocturna League’s 6-10 episodes, I’ve decided to redact this segment of the exchange. You have my heartfelt apology, reader, but he knows way, way more than I expected about that situation. Please look forward to the upcoming episodes; I’ll start publishing my recordings of it once the other episodes get more feedback, mind you!-

 

Kell: So next question. “Are the British royals actually reptilians?”

*Chaos hums*

Chaos: The… British…

*He perks up suddenly, his antennae pointing straight up.*

Chaos: Those tea people!

Kell: I… I suppose you could call them that. Historically speaking they actually had very little of that tea in their native biome to begin with.

Chaos: Ha! Of no matter. Yes, an empire that well-managed couldn’t possibly be done-so by the hands of useless humans. It would have to be a superior life form for them to have gone across their planet for the sole reason of collecting the most delicious forms of tea.

Kell: I believe they pursued empire for other reasons, but we can agree that the tea was an understandable motive.

Chaos: Wonderful! I did not expect you were such a tea connoisseur, analyst!

Kell: Y-yes. Tea is wonderful.

*Chaos laughs and points his finger*

Chaos: You must take me for a fool. I am well aware you’ve been guzzling coffee like a disgusting weakling!

(I had forgotten his eye-sight can discern quasi-ether mass as well as physical and magical elements. My bad.)

Kell: Well our coffee tastes way better in the World above the Pools.

*Chaos hisses. Never heard that before. Scary, and he can’t even kill me.*

Chaos: I suppose you can only get away with it, being what you are. Do record for your readers that I will not allow coffee drinkers to exist so long as I can prevent it. Tea is the beverage of refinement, and coffee— it is truly the mud of curs. Royal Knight Order adores coffee, as well as that amalgamation abomination.

Kell: Right. My apologies for not being sensitive to your tastes.

*Chaos bows his head*

Chaos: You are forgiven… I suppose.

Kell: Well thank you. Now last question: Why is Knight Love the… what the hell?

Chaos: Knight Love?

Kell: Astounding.

Chaos: What is it?

Kell: This last question was written by Meeo Letlind, under context of this interview!

Chaos: So, she read it before we even conducted it.

Kell: It seems that way.

*Chaos laughs. He looks relieved*

Chaos: All this time… She’s still alive.

Kell: She certainly is… around.

(I don’t have the heart to tell him, but the interview question was definitely sent long, long before now- by at least a thousand years)

Chaos: What a darling little dimensional terrorist she is. Have you met her?

Kell: No, but she’s on the list to be interviewed (in the past).

Chaos: And it’s worth saying, you can creep on Royal Knight Order as much as you please, but if you lay a hand on my Friendion there will be a reckoning that not even your little director could deal with.

Kell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Chaos: I am certain it’s lonesome up in your little tower, watching the lives of us bright and brilliant creatures. I would venture to guess that you’re jealous of the relationship the two of us have.

Kell: Just answer the question.

Chaos: I shall be watching you.

Kell: As if you were capable.

*Chaos rears in again, I’m pretty sure white flame is coming out of his jaws right now. Damn.*

Chaos: As if I cared about a peeping tom’s opinion of what I can do!

*There’s an awkward silence, and Chaos clears his throat.*

Chaos: what is her question?

Kell: She uh… She writes right here that she felt like the last question wasn’t much fun originally, and instead sent in her own question at the perfect time… How did she even get a fax machine though?

Chaos: Pardon me?

Kell: I received this one by fax… Weird. I know where she is she has electricity now, but this is-

*Chaos leans in with wide eyes*

Chaos: You know where she is?!

Kell: Well yes, I’m assigned to her as well.

Chaos: Tell me!

Kell: I apologize, you’re actually not allowed to find out at the moment.

Chaos: Why?! After Oa… She…

Kell: I know, but my  readers don’t know that yet… and way more importantly- you’d trigger some pretty serious events, and I haven’t been given permission to put that into play yet. So no can do.

Chaos: I will know!

Kell: Eventually, yes. Now calm down.

*Chaos takes a moment, takes a deep breath, and leans off me back into his chair. What an overdramatic nerd.*

Chaos: Right… her question?

Kell: She wanted to ask you how you were doing. She also gives her love.

*There’s a pause as Chaos looks down to the ground, and closes his eyes. A few seconds go by, and he smiles before lifting up to talk to me.*

Chaos: I am doing just fine. Where ever you are, Friendion, I know you are doing what is best. I am… if you are reading this now. I apologize. Aoline… the young lady. I did do my best, but it was either her or Oa, my goal for so long. I had to make that choice. I hope with everything in my cold heart that you will one day forgive me. She did not deserve that, and you did not deserve what happened to you. I am overjoyed you are safe. Pl-

Kell: Uh, slow down.

*Chaos closes his eyes and takes a long sigh*

Kell: Okay, thanks. Go ahead.

(Sorry, I’m a little slow taking down responses sometimes.)

Chaos: Please visit soon. With much adoration, your overlord… That’s all.

Kell: Got it… Thank you for taking the time with me today.

*I present my hand to shake, and Chaos accepts it. His grip is deceptively-gentle for someone that tears out dragon throats for a living.*

Chaos:… But of course… I feel a weight lifted from me… Tell me, Analyst.

*We both rise from our chairs.*

Kell: Yes?

Chaos: Is… will I see her again?

*I open my portal*

Kell: I’m sorry.

Chaos: I presume you cannot tell me?

Kell: You’ll see her again. (Poor guy won’t figure out the catch for a while now.)

Chaos: Very well. Good day… four eyes analyst.

*I step halfway into my portal*

Kell: No problem… Black Bunny!

At this time the interview ended with me scarcely escaping through my portal. Turns out that Chaos is quite capable at manipulating extra-ethereal portals as well. If I had pulled away a second slower he’d have taken my hand off. Not this time, bitch. Definitely not interviewing him again for a while. Need to make sure he doesn’t remember I called him a black bunny- that’d suck.

Tune in next time for another interview. I suppose Meeo will be the one to do. As always, email me your questions for her at kellr.inkston@gmail.com or let me know on the twitter or facebook group.

Well I screwed up hugely again, not that it’ll stop me! Oh, and I found out a great way to keep my tea warm!

~ Kell Inkston ~ Leave a comment

Well boohoo.

Turns out my flash fiction Friday post appeared under an older post- how embarrassing! If you peek down you can still see it, about a couple of millennial whipper-snappers and a fly waiter, so enjoy if you wish to peek down.

I found the cause of the matter. Apparently wordpress thinks they’re super smart using a timezone an hour after EST even after I looked it up to double check. Fooie!

Lesson learned, don’t try your luck with scheduled releases unless you know exactly what you’re doing. I’ve had this site for well over a year and I still hadn’t figured that out until just today!

*imagine funny image of an eagle screeching with the text “HAWKWARD” in Impact Bold Font right here*

Oh well, onwards and upwards! The next Flash Fiction Friday at Five ( Or FFF@F for short c: ) will be released at 5 PM EST for REAL THIS TIME GUYS, REALLY!

About that tea…

I decided to go the route of the insane genius, brewing my standard English breakfast (even though its the evening when I’m writing this; such a rebel) and added a spot of milk just as usual…

Just a typical tea-drinking day…

But then, an enlightened realization! If it’s in the coffee pot, why not keep it warm using the coffee burner?!?!?!?!?1

So I did, and it’s still warm!

#sosmart

Anyway I promise I’ll do better next time. Sorry for letting ya’ down.

: :’ <—Me with anime sweat drop because I’m so unironically random.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and look forward to finding out how you can get Valiance’s prequel, Defiance, for 100% free!

Much love,

Kell

Hey, is this brick wall becoming bigger, or is it just me? Oh wait, i-*SMASH AND DEAD*

~ Kell Inkston ~ Leave a comment

Nice attempt at clickbait, Kell. Pretty sure it didn’t work.

First matter of affairs, that military sci-fi novel’s rough draft is done, and here’s the cover:

Valiance_Kindle

Yeah, seriously. It looks awesome!

Like, I’ve seriously never loved one of my covers this much. Good job, until-further-notice secret guy who did my cover!

As much as a challenge as it was, the novel was pleasing and quick to write, like I mentioned in my previous post, and I’m currently working through the editing process. I can’t loose momentum! This could be the one! Expect to see it on amazon.com shelves early May. Remember that you can go ahead and read the novel for free using the radish fiction app. Exciting!

Anyway I’ve got a lot going on at the Ascended Scribery, scribbling up one thing or another, but I know you guys need some contact, so here it is. It’s been a long time since my last progress report, so this should be a significant change from last time.

What I’m working on right now:

-Valiance Prequel: I need a reader magnet to the series, and I figured this would be a fantastic way to do it. It shall be a short story explaining the origins of one of the characters, and should be pretty sweet. Expect to see it release alongside Valiance for about $0.99 cents.

And have the cover for this one too:

Defiance - High Resolution

B-beautiful…

-I’m going to be getting back into flash fiction, starting… today! Check out my Flash Fiction Friday @ Five (PM EST) starting today at 5 PM EST. It will be very short, punchy, sometimes even offensive, but you’re a cool enough kid to handle naughty words and things that might make tumblr mad, right?

Yeah, honestly that’s kind of it. I’m also developing the plot outline for Valiance‘s sequel already so I can piggy back and get on it quickly. Hope to see you later at 5PM ❤

All the best,

Kell

(P.S.: Again, Walking the Scar is still going to be finished. Seriously… I just need to get this stuff off my plate first : :’ )

Flash Fiction Friday @ Five PM – 5/18/17 – Kafka Cafe

~ Kell Inkston ~ 2 Comments

(For the first post of these I feel it’s fair for a disclaimer. Any views or opinions expressed about anyone or anything do not reflect those of the author’s. The author also takes full artistic liberty to do whatever the hell it wants to. Take your complaining garbage elsewhere, gnave. Now let’s get down to business.)

Kafka Cafe

“Yeah!” Jane says, “I love Blue Dog Monday! I went to their summer concert last year!” She adds with a cheesy smile and a decisive point, as if she just now recalled the band.

She’s not the one, he already knows, as all insufferable hipsters do.

William’s puts on smile stretches to ensure it’s convincing. Jane failed the “fake band” test like so many others. He runs it through with every girl he dates. Give her the name of a fake band, see if she’s a giant fan of it and owns all the albums, and then go from there.

He scratches his shoulder as a waiter swings past their table with the sort of over-doctored coffee and flippantly-cute pastries common to an outdoor mall café. “Wow, I’m shocked!” He says with an awkward shrug, at once showing his surprise and personally shrugging off the thought of a second date.

“Yeah, they’re great… It’s just been such a long time I listened to them, ya’ know? There’s a lot out.” She says this all while taking up the slender coffee spoon and stirring through her decaf salted caramel white chocolate mocha frappe with coconut milk and just a dash of cinnamon.

William assumes this is her way of backing up in case he presses further. He’ll spare her the embarrassment of being caught, and decides to simply go along with it. Last time he called a girl out for it he received a swift slap to the face, as it turned out the fake band name he chose was actually of a real band that he hadn’t heard of.

“Yeah, well you know how it is,” William says with another, neither of them actually knowing how it is. He finishes off his black Honduras— good stuff.

A few minutes of generic date conversation passes. It’s just like she said on her profile, she does yoga. Wow. Likes surfing. Holy shit amazing. And even had the gall to say she was working as something other than an unpaid intern. He finds out a few other facts that are also probably not facts at all, and nods his way through the whole conversation. It won’t be hard to let her go, considering he didn’t grab on to begin with.

And then it happens.

A fly zips around the table and she groans amidst a reflexive swat. The fly didn’t dodge, but instead is just flipped aside. Jane cringes realizing she actually made contact with the fly, an ironic reaction all things considered, and then the fly buzzes angrily.

“What the hell?!” The fly vibrates in fury.

Jane draws back in horror. “It talks! Kill it! Kill it!”

“I fucking work here! I came to get your goddamn dishes you little shits! I literally had this job for one fucking day and already people are going nuts!” He points a really tiny fly leg to the door with a sign on it. “Can’t you read?! This is a super equal opportunity establishment! Any sentient creature can get a job here.”

“I-I’m,” Jane skews her breath. “I’m so sorr-”

Jane’s voice is overpowered by the landing of William’s large mug, crushing the fly beyond recognition.

“W-what did you do?!”

William draws back, steaming and short of breath. “I killed it.”

“It… It worked here!”

“Yeah, so what? It freaked me out!”

“You can’t… Shit!” Jane presses a hand into her face in dread. “Why the hell would the manager think this was a good idea?! The waiter that gave us the food wasn’t a fly!”

“Yeah,” William said, gaze searching for onlookers, “Just a normal person, like they should be, dammit! Why di-”

“Is something the matter?” The original waiter, an enormous, human-sized cockroach says as he bends around the corner.

William’s eyes grow large as he looks at the massive roach. He had thought it was just some old Asian man or something, but no.

“This entire place is operated by bugs!” He shrieks before fainting. He went to jail for aggravated assault, murder, and super racism– good riddance, band guy. Like, ugh!

Come back next Friday at 5 for some more. Let’s see how long I can keep this up.