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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-17 16:21:16 EDT

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At the top of the volcano, there was a doorway cut into the mountain wall. Inside the doorway, there was a long staircase down the side that spiraled around the side of the mountain toward the center. Where the stairs ended, ring of magma encroached on solid floor.
“Was there a point of putting steps to lead all the way up here and then steps back down on the inside?” Magnar complained as he started down the steps. He could feel the intense heat through the bottoms of his boots and thought that the heat in Wiil wasn’t really all that bad in comparison.

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An excerpt from The Ironbark Wolves:

"The forest was silent—deathly silent.

Orez paused mid-chew, straining to listen. Somewhere in the distance, heavy steps fell. A slow, methodical rhythm. A crawl? No. No sounds of anything dragging. These were calculated steps.

Something prowled the woods.

Orez crouched among the brush. It was distant, but it was there. His ears could track the sound, traveling eastward. Though the thick darkness obscured all else, without the starlight to aid him. Whatever it was, he knew it was large, and nothing else. He could only stay low, hidden; a hand clutched onto his bow while he waited for dawn.

His racing heart kept him awake through the night. As the sun rose, he noticed the birds were absent, too. The air remained silent. Tense. There was an unmistakable shift when light pierced the canopy.

The footsteps drew closer."

Eric marvelled. While they marched on the double, Edward ran on ahead, following the corporal and at the end, even after fifteen miles weighted down as he was, he still wasn’t on his knees as Eric had been.
They stripped in the changing rooms and took to the showers, cleaning their kit as they did so, weapons left leaning in a line against the lockers with a few guarding them. There weren’t enough showers to go around for twenty-three, anyway.
“Not even the least bit tired yet, Yi-erwu?”
“A bit. That’s the hardest I’ve been pushed, though, and I loved not getting shagged out.”
“Let’s see if Lingwu was right before you get pushed into the ground, though. The doctor should have all the data he needs after that run. If not, I’m sure the corporal can find a way to reach your limit, eventually.”
“Hope he does. Useful thing to know."
The doctor met them outside the camp. The corporal called a halt, a left turn and marched up to the doctor, halting with a salute.
Eric muttered. “Why the salute? Didn’t do that last time.”
“Dunno, Eric.” Lee said behind him. “He is a doctor, though. Prolly thinks he deserves the respect.”
“Goliath. Step forward.”
Yi-erwu did so and the doctor stood before him.
“I’ve a better insight into what’s been done to you with another you for comparison. A you with a much longer exposure. Both of you enjoyed a greater benefit than the other men in the village and it was a benefit. Both, at the peak of physical fitness, both with enhanced resistance to extremes in temperature, both with improved healing mechanisms and enhanced immune systems. You, on the other hand… The healing of damage has its limits. If you push yourself too close to yours, you will damage yourself. The human body didn’t evolve to handle such stresses. It’ll heal, but it may take some time and that damage may become cumulative. Don’t let yourself get run into the ground like Eric was. He will recover fully over time, you may not.”
“So Lingwu’s warning? That I might might wear my bo…

Text reads: "Black cattle in a neighboring pasture stared mutely at Colleen from behind a wire fence. They look depressed, she thought, then turned her face towards the trees that grew beside the reservoir.
She wished she could have stayed at home and wandered through the woods by the creek near her house that day, or curled up with a good book, wandering through a story. Most of all, she wished she could have just been left alone.
As she gazed at the shadowy forest that seemed to call to her, she thought she saw a dark figure with a pale face standing at its edge, but she blinked and it was gone.
Her mind was playing tricks again."

It was the work of a nanosecond for Pearl to realise that leaving the Save Point was not the brightest idea her so-called mentor McCaffrey had thrust upon her. It was right up there with 'pretending to be dragon hunters' and 'not going back to the Save Point when it started to rain'.
Instead, they had ended up at an eerily empty market square, overlooked by an epic statuary of five figures, which a sun-bleached information board nearby introduced as the De Romford family, the five 'founding fathers' of the town.

'Bit sexist,' Pearl commented, 'at least three of them are women.'

McCaffrey ignored her, instead cocking his head to try and decipher the stylised word mark one of them wore. 'Fascinating detail on the outfits,' he said. 'So colourful. In both palette and language,' he added when he realised what that word was.

'I don't think that's part of the original statue,' Pearl said.

McCaffrey had started off on a rambling monologue about the constantly changing state of art, when the rain suddenly escalated into a spectacularly violent thunderstorm. Apathetic about sculpture, and firmly opposed to getting much wetter than she already was, Pearl looked around for whatever shelter was to be found around the market place. A low budget portico entrance labelled 'Romford Indoor Market' and 'Closed until further notice' and 'we agopolise for the inconvience' beckoned. Through a gap in the closed roller shutters, a closing down sale notice tormented them with offers of 70% off all umbrellas as they huddled between leaks in the canopy, looking increasingly like piles of damp rags left out awaiting a bin lorry that would never come.

Arielle flopped on my bed and picked up my Cosmo. “Are you sexually adventuresome? Take this quiz,” she read. She turned to the article and scanned it. “Amateurs,” she snorted.
I wondered what questions Arielle had read, but I wasn’t about to ask her. Arielle was completely trustworthy, but I never told her anything. I always got the feeling she led a more exciting life than she let on, and I would have looked prissy by comparison.

Then he’s kissing me, and I have to agree: this is much better than trying to absorb as much information as I possibly can about magic and my ancestors. Kissing Cameron never gets old; it has been something I’ve dreamed about for so long, and nothing compares to the reality of it. His lips are warm and soft and perfect, and I’m so incredibly grateful he’s here with me in Noríah.
Soon, his hands are wandering over my body, squeezing and skimming, slipping under my jacket and shirt and brushing over my bare skin. Heat flares through every part of me, tingling and coiling tight, igniting me with want and desire. A soft moan slips out as Cameron’s hands reach for the buttons of my jacket, and he swiftly pops one open.
“It’s hot in here,” he whispers.
“Lot cooler back in my room with the window open,” I breathe back. “But you won’t let us get there.”
A giant sneeze causes us to jump apart. I spin around, cheeks burning, and find Roston in the library’s open doorway—with Rayla in his arms, staring at us. She sneezes again. Her cheeks are pink, and she has a hunk of rye bread in one hand and a bunch of grapes in the other. She sneezes a third time.
“Allergies,” Roston explains.

A dark image with white text that reads:

Vels waved a hand. "We all sympathize," they said, choosing a seat at the far end of the couch. "Of all the Council Hands, you have the worst burden."
Leo suppressed a small jolt of dismay that anyone would discuss his situation when he wasn’t around. All clans trade in gossip. I shouldn’t be surprised.
"I truly don't understand how this company survived," Leo groused as he opened the bottle Vels had brought. It was strongly blooded water, possibly a full pint mixed with a pint of water. The rich fragrance warmed him, and he appreciated the lack of cortisol in the blood. However this human had been tapped, they had apprently been a very happy donor. ”Smells good," he said.
"She is good," Vels agreed. "Take a sip."
Leo ventured a small taste. The flavor was deliciously complex, the metabolized nutrients clearing his mind. In comparison, the blood rations stored by the Salaki tasted bitter.
Even when Leo was human, he hadn't been a fan of bitter. He took a larger mouthful.
"This is the one area where the Ashelira have an advantage," he said. "Thank you for bringing it. It was very kind of you.”

- From NO SKY LIKE MIDNIGHT, by Nora Shear

The word "comparison" is in bold pink font. There are star decorations in every corner, and a meteor decoration above the text.

Silhouette of an oak tree against a green background.

Text: A Sylvan Tale "comparison"

“You must have married very young if your children are already grown to be on their own,” Nin noted, wondering his age. “How old are you?”

“Older than thirty, I assure you. I may be a widower, but I am relatively younger in comparison to the ones it sounds like your parents are trying to coerce you into marrying.” He picked up her hand and gave a light buss atop her knuckles.

Another simple gesture of affection, but Nin held tight onto him, feeling she might fall off the saddle, the touch of his lips on the back of her hand making her heart race and head spin.

They set their trays down on an empty table and slid onto the bench seating.
Without hesitation, Lizz started wolfing down the food, stabbing and shoveling at every item with her fork and hands.
“Just be careful.” Talla’s fork poked at the comparatively meager items on her tray. “Eat too much too fast and you’re likely to give yourself a stomach ache, and we don’t need an upset tummy derailing the mission.”
“Sure, sure.” She continued eating. “My doctor said I actually need to eat twice as many calories as someone my size normally would just to maintain my body weight.”
“But you’re so…” Jase started to say.
Lizz narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”
“Scrawny?”
Talla groaned. “Bad choice of word. Though, to be fair…”
“Which you don’t need to be,” Lizz said.
“I’m not sure what you could’ve said there that wouldn’t have sounded bad,” Talla finished.
As she continued, Lizz looked at Talla, who was very slowly and methodically cutting her food.
“Are you not hungry?”
“My stomach already isn’t feeling well, so I’m taking it easy. The mission also doesn’t need me yarfing in the middle of it.”

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She bit her lip as she stepped back from the kiss, forcing a smile for him. There was no comparison between kissing him and kissing Nysa.

Rollan hid his face as it flushed a bright red. She said it so simply. As if it were easy to admit. His behavior only made her laugh, increasing his embarrassment. “Must you tease?” he muttered through his hand.
“Why?” She said while stifling her laugh, “Is it completely unnecessary?” Unable to hold herself back, her laughter flowed, reaching through the small terrace and down the halls. As soon as she realized he wasn’t sharing in her jovial comparison of Rollan and Ferris, she calmed and nudged him. “You have taken on some of his mannerisms. It’s cute.”
There was no way she was right. His hand flopped down as he pouted. Despite not wanting it to, the puckered pout stretched into a smile. He nudged her back with his shoulder. “Jerk,” He chuckled. “How long have you known?”