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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-17 18:04:42 EDT

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“Fuck.” Breakfast, school, lunch with Mistress — and now she needed to find a new household idol and the ritual objects to sanctify it and drive out any bad spirits from the old one.

She swept up the remains, murmuring apologizing prayers to the creature. It was a gorgon, a fearful visage to keep evil spirits out.

He carefully looked around the room; the other three were all still sleeping on the narrow beds in the room the priests had assigned them. At least, the two ladies were. Jorang was still sitting up on the end of his bed; for all that he moved and breathed, he might have just been a warm statue. Alakshi the overly defensive decapitator was lying on her side, snoring like a rusty door hinge; Queen Crabbypants of Painintheassia lay on her back, not making much noise for once, but the lizard pigeon curled up on her chest was gurgling in his sleep.

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Privateer Captain Taya Hellarcher and her Catgirl Nessa inquire with a gentleman named "Clothor" about six victims kidnapped by pirates. Clothor is cadaverous, reptilian looking, and possesses a rather unpleasant personality. Not in the mood to negotiate, he admits to having purchased the captives and agrees to sell if Taya will negotiate.

After this they discuss an artifact Clothor may know about - the Angel's Oculus - and while they talk Clothor catches Nessa inching toward a case full of valuable artifacts and threatens to skin her alive. Nessa denies any ill intent and both Taya and Clothor call her out as a liar.

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“Why are you such a baby about disinfectant and bandages?” Cora asked, clearly amused. “You injure yourself all the time and don’t seem to mind – climbing injuries, scrapes and bruises, that time you played with that weird pink lizard otter thing until it bit you. You had no problem at all rolling around in glass shards until you were sliced to ribbons, but as soon as we had to pull the glass slivers out of your skin and bandage you up, it was like we were torturing you.”
“He had no complaints at all about being thrown off the back of a dinosaur and into a tree but wailed like a toddler as soon as I had to stitch up the resulting cut,” Byron added, gesturing to the fading scar at Kip’s hairline.
“Because sitting still makes everything hurt ten times as much!” Kip complained.

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.

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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.

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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.

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