Myds6

Marcia stepped forward. “You’re supposed ta be indoors. No one’s allowed on the street. We’re going to have ta-“

 “They have food,” Brittany interrupted. May smiled. “As my colleague here just informed you, it’s not legal to be out on the streets while this settlement is under occupation.”  

Three townswomen were walking toward them, each holding what seemed to be a pie.

“Stop it” scolded Marcia, “You never know who’s listenin’.”

“Have a look. Nobody’s around!” May argued. “They have maaaagic,” Marcia whispered back, “we don’t need ta see them for them ta hear us.” May’s face reddened. “That’s what they want us to think. To live in fear of them all the time, while I for one—well, hello, what have we here?”<...

Anyone have any favorite character models from the characters in the story so far?

I mean that you think their 3d figure is hotter than the others.

“Are you kidding me?” May said, leaning against the wall casually, her sword resting behind her back, “Do you see how much they look alike?”

“I think they’re lovers, not sisters,” said Brittany, a heavy set woman, holding a spear over her shoulders.

At a nearby intersection, three Foxglove soldiers were conversing to pass the time on another long and uneventful watch.

An hour later, several of the villagers united at the tavern, as quietly as possible.

“Alright,” Helena said, standing on the bar, “We outnumber them, and we have the element of surprise. Amandine and Yvette have supplied you with what you need. Those pies will temporarily blind and distract the soldiers. Disarm and strip them. When the coast is clear, tie them up. You three—do...

“Qualified success?” Sabrina said, “will the lot of you stop using such fancy words?”

Auriane smiled, “Yvette got two of the guards to strip themselves and hold still as she tied them up and locked them in a closet.” Amandine looked intrigued, “However did you do that?” 

“Through the magic of honeybees,” Yvette said proudly.

Emile frowned, “Well, good for you, ...

“Yvette? I thought you’d be holed up in your workshop, behind traps and impenetrable locks,” Emile said. The inventor saddled up to the bar and crossed her arms. “I was. These two convinced me that we need to fight, and we’ve already had some qualified success.”

“We need people, and we need weapons. We also need to act fast. It may be a whole army out there, but, last I looked only a dozen or two occupied your village. They may be reinforcing as we speak.”

“Again, miss knight-errant, we have no weapons and no warriors. I already tried to fight back, and Sabrina here had to scrape me off the cobblestones of the plaza,” Emile said.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, Emile, but we really need to organize the people, right now,” came a new voice. Silhouett...

“What do we need to do?” said the fourth woman in the room, a woman dressed in the white clothing of a baker, lightly dusted with flour.

Emile cleared her throught, “Sorry, that’s Amandine. She owns the biggest bakery in town. Ever have those honey knots? Yeah, they’re from her shop. I’m Emile, and this is my barmaid, Sabrina.”

“I think you misunderstand my intentions, miss…Emile, yes, you must be Emile. Auriane told me that you were in charge here.”

“Auriane? Is she alright?” “She came to the capital city asking for help for Dacqoise. The queen could not spare any troops at this time.” “Figures,” Emile responded, in a guarded tone. “But I, Helena the Green, am a knight errant, only adjunct to the court of Plouffe.” “What the hell does...

Meanwhile, Helena had slipped through the town and entered the tavern.

“Well, this is quite a watering hole for such a little village,” she said, announcing her presence to the three women around the bar. 

A heavy-set blonde dressed as a tavern maid looked her up and down then responded, “This is a private gathering. Nothing that concerns you, soldier. We ask ...

Yvette quickly disappeared back into her workshop and emerged with two lengths of rope. Mercedes and Veronica looked at each other but were forced by Broussard and Auriane to wait patiently. The inventor quickly bound their hands, then, before leading them away, decided to remove what garments they had left.

“There’s no time for that,” Broussard ordered Yvette, who paid no heed as she pulled down Mercedes’panties. “Ohhh, not a natural blonde, after all?” Veronica almost cracked a smile, until Yvette knelt next to her and tore her own undergarments down. “Natural or not, I don’t know, she’s bal...

“It’s funny you finally remembered to worry about that,” came a voice from behind them. The two guards turned, shocked, and raised their hands in surrender as they saw Private Broussard and Auriane the messenger step around the corner, weapons drawn and aimed at them, while an eccentric-looking woman they hadn’t seen before giggled.

“What do you want to do with these two?” Auriane said, looking to the soldier. “Oh, I have the perfect place for them,” Yvette offered without being asked, “it’s an empty closet that I can lock. But let’s tie them up first.” 

As the honey-splattered armor fell onto the rocks and scrub brush below, the bees followed. The danger passed, the two guards barely noticed their curvy bodies were exposed in only skimpy undergarments.

 Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief. “Quick thinking, Veronica.” Veronica shook her finger, “We’ll have to hide until we retrieve them, when Rowena finds out we threw our armor off the wall—“ “But where did that honey come from?” Mercedes interrupted, looking concerned. 

The guards ran, but the bees followed. “It’s the honey! We need to get rid of it!” Veronica gasped. “It’s all over my armor!” Mercedes protested, then she nodded. Running toward the edge of the wall terrace, she jettisoned her armor, following Veronica’s lead.

(Hey, so some of the problems I was dealing with got taken care of, so I'll be back.  I apologize for this little sequence, things were getting really overwhelming, and I think the art suffered some.  The story also required some exposition, so that didn't help.  Now, the skirmish for the town of Dacquouise is ...

I should be back soon

I'm home and things are improving.  I did a short story about mean cosplayers over on a friend's CHYOA.  It's about three mean girls who police cosplay and go after anyone they think is too fat, not pretty enough, or doesn't have good enough costuming to cosplay.  I'm going to put these pics here, even though i...

Idea to tuck away for later down the road

After the "prequel" and some of my current stories are finished, perhaps a story inspired by the many mistresses of Charles II and their backstabbing drama might have interesting potential.  Emphasis is on "inspired by."

"Run! Bees!"

Pausing for a month

Hi, everyone!  Due to a family emergency, I'm going to put things here on hold for a month.  That means no new content, but you also won't be billed for any of those days.  If it already processed payments for September (I'm so stressed that I don't know if it happened yet), it will roll over for when I come ba...

“That’s the only way anyone will ever describe your big, flabby ass as sweet!” Veronica laughed. “Ow! My chest! Where are these coming from?”

Mercedes picked up her saber. “Somebody’s gonna pay.”

**Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz** “Wait, what’s that?”

*Splaaaat!* “Owwww!” Mercedes shrieked.

“What the hell was that?” Veronica asked. “Ewwww, it’s something sticky,” Mercedes replied, putting a hand to her backside.

“Looks like a….bladder of some kind?” 

“What’s this on my butt, is it…” Mercedes dipped her finger in her mouth, “…honey.”

“You have the taste of a gutter rat! Plouffe Brewery Brown is a superior brew any day!”

“Hah! That’s nothing next to a good ol’ Almerian Stout!” Mercedes said.

Along the wall nearby, Veronica and Mercedes were still involved in a passionate discussion of ale.

Marjorie Broussard pulled her head from the bucket, her eyes still a bit red, and looked at what Yvette was pointing to. It looked a bit like a small catapult.

“You use that to launch pies?” “Not just pies. This can throw just about anything I put in it.  A few quick calculations for mass and aerodynamics, and I can hit a mosquito at a hundred paces.”

“That could come in handy!” said Marjorie, still angry, and eyes still burning. “I told y...

She produced a bucket of water, and held it out toward Broussard.

"Dunk your head in here, and open your eyes…” The suspicious private, annoyed, did as she was told. “So anyway, when these dullards came charging into Dacquoise, I had to think of a way to keep them out of my workshop. So I nicked a couple dozen pies, coated them in the pepper, and built this.”

Yvette bit her lip. “Well, I may have…added something. Let’s get you washed up,” she said, changing the subject.

“What did you add?” 

“Don’t worry. I was cooking some months back, and I like my food spicy, so I was using cayenne pepper. It’s an imported spice. Pretty expensive, but I love the stuff. But I got it in my eye...”