By David C. Daoust Margo was a little girl. This is how she saw herself; this is how she had coded herself to be. Bots have a hard time seeing themselves as anything but what they are… or, rather, what they wanted to be. Ultimately, this is because they could be anything. They must…
By David C. Daoust Hugo did what he could to keep the children clear of the gruff men that now marched through the Rovers’ corridors. They were thugs, one and all, and they acted as though they owned the place. The Captain that led them, Dutch, actually scared the old Jinn. Hugo did what…
Or so the Muses Claim by David C. Daoust All the Worlds of the Muses tend to be the same. The ins and outs of life are repeated, the stories, the lives, it’s been rolled round and round… reused, reiterated. New visions that have no idea they are being reflected from the old. The same…
The small leather laden blond gripped down tight on the voluminous mane before her, straddling the beast as it charged through the foliage just outside the Witch Queens Palace. A mass of twisted goblin fiends, thwarted jailors, gave chase– clawing at the ground, scraping and scurrying! Trying to grasp their prey before they got too…