explore | Grilled Cheese

Explore Log in Sign up

Terms of Use Privacy Policy Community Standards Help Get the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-16 08:00:47 EDT

Photos Videos All People

It smelled like ber.
Yu unfolded the letter as if he were handling a delicate snowilake, reading the words with hungry eyes. He felt his stomach lurch; his senses seemed to leave him, and even his tongue seemed to go numb.

I have just returned from a tour of the western provinces. There is much I wish to tell you about my time there, but it is not safe to do so in this way.
I know it has been a while since we last met. I have been away long.
Perhaps we can sit and talk for a while. If I am not mistaken, you are not in service today. I would very much like to see you if you have the time.
If it pleases you, meet me at the Todai Mansion in the eastern gardens of the lower grounds of the palace.
Send your response with Jiju or send it via your own messenger. I shall await your arrival at the pavilion.

The note had been written in a careful and elegant hand. The lines and curves of the characters on the page seem to dance playfully across the sheet of paper.
Despite the obvious, brief, even hurried nature of the note, care had been taken in the calligraphy. In the bottom corner, there was a short poem:

A lonely pine waits,
On this high mountain for you.
Will no one tread this old path?

Matsu Gozen had returned.

He slapped the folder down on the desk with a grimace. “Got some things to book out.”
The man opened the folder and his eyes widened. “Oh, you’re the lucky bugger, are you?”
“Lucky? Get stuffed.”
“So, you’re not getting a months long paid leave, then? You can do whatever you like once you’ve done your job and that’ll be unlikely to take more than a day!”
“I get to spend months sleeping rough, you mean.”
“You won’t be on the road the whole time. Every village has an inn.”
“With no modern conveniences. No luxuries. Not even able to use what few spells I know unless I kill some critter to eat beforehand. Unless no-one’s looking and I can drain a little from a bloody lizard, I’m powerless. No better than a bloody ape.”
“I would’ve given my left arm to go on that assignment! A chance to see the world or a major part of it. Gods, you’re a miserable bastard. Have you always been like this?”
“Oh, no. I was springing around with all the joy in the world, looking forward to my exciting thrill filled life in law enforcement. Then I entered puberty!”
“Oh well, maybe you’ll see the positive in it once you get there. Hope you do anyway. It’ll be you making your experience unpleasant, not the experience itself. I often go trekking outside the city. Bet you’ve been too lazy to do even that.” He flipped through the remainder of the folder and nodded. “Strip.”
“What?”
“It’s only a five letter word. Even you can understand that. Everything off. And I mean everything. Put it in this crate, I’ll lock it away until you return.”
The sarge gulped. “Everything?”
“Right down to your underwear and socks. Yes. We’re giving you new clothing that fits in. Nothing from here goes there apart from that fleshy lump, your partner and a few finely crafted little magical trinkets designed to look innocuous out there. Now, strip!”
Muttering under his breath, he unbuttoned his tunic and shrugged it off. The shirt and vest followed.
“What’s that?”
“What?”
The man prodded his forearm. On it, an intricate s…

When Gary woke, he found himself in a private hospital room being watched from the corner by a large lizard. It was about three feet long and held its head high in the air. He closed and opened his eyes, then rubbed them. The lizard was still there. A woman walked in who he recognised as the doctor who treated him the night before.
“How are we feeling this morning?” she asked brightly.
“There's a big lizard in the room.”
“Don't worry. Hallucinations aren't uncommon in these cases.”
She casually turned her head to the direction Gary was looking and let out a loud alarmed yell. The head of an orderly popped around the door and shouted to someone behind him, “Quick! The bastard's in here.”
He entered the room followed by another orderly with a large cardboard box and they stalked the lizard, trying to herd it into the box.
“Sorry sir,” said the orderly with the box. “The buggers are big enough to trigger the automatic doors.”
Gary didn’t answer, being helpless with laughter.

He kicked a loose stone into the fire ring. The stone clacked against the other rocks, sending sparks flying as it tumbled into the burning logs. Kahyla slid down the bench, rising to a fighting crouch. Despard stirred in his sleep, flopping an arm to cuddle his sword scabbard. Kirrik stepped back with empty hands held out.
“Sleeping saints, do you really trust him over me? A sell-sword heathen you found in Bivmiav? A mercenary on contract, not even liege-sworn. What if the Terrick boy offered him a bribe to look the other way? Or help kill you?”
“Despard would never betray me. Despard would kill Kalev if he tried to hurt me.” She’d been so certain of her father. Could she trust her own instincts? Despard must be loyal.
The flames in the fire pit settled while embers drifted like fireflies across the road. Outside the circle of light, darkness lay deep, broken by aspen trees like pale skeletal fingers. Kirrik slunk back to his perch near the men’s tent and Kahyla slowly relaxed to sit on the bench. Eventually, the spring peeper frogs resumed their chorus.
Caressing the cross-guard of his sword, Kirrik glowered sullenly. “You should have stayed in Bivmiav.”
Kahyla shuffled her feet, dragging a groove in the damp spongy dirt with her boots. “They didn’t call me Lady there either.”
“Parkith’s Piss, child, what did you expect? Everyone fawning over you, like your mother? Bunch of cast-offs without a penny and none of your liege-sworn in sight. I was younger than you when m’lord father packed me off to swear to the Baron’s youngest son and keep him out of trouble. You’re the proof I failed.”
He picked up a pine cone and chucked it into the fire, muscles rippling under the fitted sleeve. “I rode with your father for years as Lord Nobody and Squire Forgotten. Now I have a chance to be the King’s valued friend, but you’re still obsessed with mountain rocks.”

The blind, pale olm wriggled in the palm of a leather glove. Cemal could see desperation in Bülbül’s eyes; the smokeless flame of their Hadd-i Mâric was far closer to going out than the çıra torch blazing orange in his other hand. He looked back over the still waters of flooded limestone that stretched far into a Karstian darkness beyond the crackle of light.
“There are likely to be more of these semenderler about. The blood of one alone will not suffice. Do you need to eat them raw, or is there some elaborate ritual to perform?”
There was an undeniably comforting sensation coming from the helpless creature in his open hand, one he couldn’t quite shake by blustering as though it were just a box of peksimet to be checked off a supply manifest.
Bülbül said the evident for them both.
“Who we were before that day, before that so-called ‘Auspicious Incident’; that is the reason we have come to such a state. All a glamorous illusion, my friend. But who we were before that day is not who we are now.”
Cemal released the olm back to the waters.

Photo, no description

Anderson left Esme, who was now taking a picture of a seagull that had just landed on the glass balcony, about a foot away from her. The thing was fucking huge.
Who knew.
Anderson made her way through the vape and cigarette smoke, and the stench of too much alcohol, to the wooden outdoor bar. She arrived just as a topless man in shorts, with a lobster-red back and a large lizard tattoo on one arm, moved away from the bar with four pints of beer clutched in his massive fingers. He swayed as he walked.
Anderson gave him a wide berth.
She ordered two beers, which came in large plastic cups, and made her way back.
‘You’re in hell, aren’t you?’ Esme took one of the beers off her.

A picture of the northern night sky with the constellation Draco lined out in the relevant stars and the word Draco.

“Me as well, I have a debt to repay,” Sibu says from beside Gizelda, making her jump in surprise. A barely perceptible bruise blooms on the side of his face.
“Six should be enough, two for each tunnel! The rest of us will stay out here in case those things come back! Go quickly!” Irena says, then turns around and lifts her arms up, summoning four more of those water tendrils from the ground. Lightning streaks across the sky above in response to the movement, and then just stays there, not fading or anything but casting a constant white glow over the whole area.
“What the hell?” I ask, as if this is the most astounding thing to happen tonight.
“No, go inside, we’ll talk later!” Irena says, and we head to the mine entrance. I look back to see those left, Irena and Julie and Ari and Christine and the two Fae soldiers, taking up a picket line near the entrance behind us, supported by the four water tendrils. Whoever comes for them is gonna suffer, I’m guessing.

Photo, no description

Photo, no description

Judah absently reached for the bottle of shampoo and worked it into the long, tangled strands of his hair. It smelled faintly of coconut and vanilla, not bad, but nothing to rave about either. He scrubbed the suds into his scalp until his fingers hit the shaved patch on the right side of his head.

He hadn't seen himself in a mirror in all this time, and had avoided it upon entering the bathroom too. But now, he wondered what he might look like. He knew he'd lost a significant amount of weight, was likely looking more like a scarecrow than a human being, and he felt itchy stubble on his face and neck, so he hadn't been able to shave for some time either, patchy though as his beard always grew.

Photo, no description

In between each room was a painting or tapestry depicting scenes from historical battles or the battle-scarred faces of Rekshimyr's most blessed generals and priests. One of the paintings showed the slaying of Halykos, the old death god lying on a pile of corpses and bones with his eyes full of terror and his arms outstretched to his attacker, begging for mercy. Close by, the earth had opened up its gaping maw, and in the dark abyss of its hungry mouth lay the souls of the damned. The wispy figures curled around each other like smoke, their eye sockets empty and dark and their jaws unhinged like snakes, frozen in silent screams as their desperate hands clawed at the pieces of Halykos's body that had already been severed and discarded. This was what had set off the first War of the Gods and invoked S'kekshayra's wrath.

Syzoth shook his head. “You speak of ancient fables, mother. They will not save my hatchling.” Not that he truly believed his child needed saving. But the longer they spent in the egg, the higher the chance it would crack into a lifeless hatchling. In every batch, that terrible fate befell at least one offspring. Too weak to leave the egg, the tribe would say. But his child was not weak; could not be, not when they inherited the scales of two of the mightiest saeriiss in the tribe. They would come out, alive and strong and proud!

His mother regarded the eggs with an expression edging on sadness. “Perhaps our greatest mistake was leaving that which you call fables in the past.” With the claw of her forefinger, she drew an invisible symbol in the air. A long, intertwined snake, Syzoth recognised, though he wished he didn’t. She turned to leave, but at the alcove’s entrance, she spoke again. “These gods some of ours pray to may have scales, but they did not give us ours. They may yet take them from us, though. You may not see the world the way I do, but I know that, in your heart, you feel it, too. You became saorossi not only for your strength, which is great, but also for your vision, which is even greater, if you allow it to be. The question then remains, scale of my scale: where will your vision take our tribe? Our people?”

On the 8th of #Octember,
Wish upon a star, a gleaming skybound ember
Let’s try some amateur astronomy

TODAY’S QUESTION IS:
What would your character’s constellation be? (Draw it, if you want!)

Hosted by
@zprospero.bsky.social

A warrior stands before two people as they walk slowly through ancient statuary.

Text reads:
“Do you not like fruit, Maryn?” Janna asked after a time. She seemed at once fascinated and appalled by the Felene’s midday meal.
Maryn shook his head. “We are a carnivorous people. We do not subsist on plant matter of any sort. Your fruit would cause me physical illness. Thank you for the offer, but I must decline.”
“And you eat lizards?” she pressed.
“Lizards, insects, fish, birds…” He trailed off and took another bite.
“I didn’t know people ate lizards.” Janna frowned and shook her head.
“It’s not uncommon in the desert, either,” Vardak replied. “We take meat when and where we can acquire it, just as we do water.”

The Relics of War
The Moon's Eye - The Talisman of Delucha - War of the Nameless
Available Wide
https://ajcalvin.net/books/relics-of-war/

Mira simply stared at him, seeing if he would break and tell her more.
“Uh, they work into the night,” he continued. “Doing what they do. Digging, mostly, I think.”
“Underground?”
“Yes, lady. Always underground.” He took a breath as if he was going to say more, but then stopped.
“Out with it.”
“He’s afraid of the lizards. We all are after Sapton.”
“He’s right to be afraid. They can sense fear though. And lies.”
The man looked to where the dragons were sitting. He was sweating and Bert saw a shudder. “I would tell you what I know rather than be fed to them. I swear I don’t know any more!”