Author Archives: ssbb-admin

20
Mar

Strangers and Candy

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

Where am I? Do I even care? I’ve been driving around for these last couple of hours. Heh. Waste of gas money. Don’t care. I have work in four hours. Don’t care. I don’t care because anything is better than being home right now.

I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t even want to watch my horror flicks. I didn’t want to wake up alone for another bone-grinding day of work. I’m tired of being responsible. It means nothing more than living paycheck-to-paycheck. Maybe if I had hadn’t fucked up everything, maybe if I had gone to school – ah, fuck it, I’m tired of thinking, too.

20
Mar

Heist of the Century

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged ,

They were already falling when the room exploded.

20
Mar

Caged Bird

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged ,

Nneka bought her having only seen her once, in shimmering holograph in the catalogue pages. The price that hovered near her head had a long string of zeros next to it, but all that Nneka could see was the shine of her smile, the butterfly’s wing of each blink in her wide eyes. I want her, she had said to her handlers, and while there had been some fuss, some worry about what would become of her flesh and blood staff if she brought on an android, Nneka took no further questions. She authorized the movement of funds and then waited for her to come, fresh from the factory.

20
Mar

Kiss Kiss Brains Brains

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

With the hard-packed snow melting off the graves and the fresh, loose soil that began to turn underneath, spring was prime time for a zombie rising. Winter was when the zombies were quiet, or as quiet as they ever were in the town of Middleton, New Jersey. Come spring and nearly every grave showed the telltale signs of movement and disturbance, signs that had alarmed Zoe in her early years as one of the town’s two resident zombie hunters. Since then she had come to recognize that while every grave in the cemetery had the potential to shift apart, revealing a thick-jawed, oozing flesh zombie, most would not. A small mercy, Zoe thought, because Middleton had been on the map since the early nineteenth century, which meant a history of a lot of dead people.

20
Mar

Just Another Sunday

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

Fran answered the door wearing nothing but a pink satin bathrobe. Her lipstick was far too red, but her hair was artfully disheveled and she peered down at Nina with just the right amount of sultry coyness, fluttering her eyelashes. “Is that the pizza?”

“Y-yes,” Nina squeaked.

“Perfect,” Fran purred, and hauled Nina in by the collar. Nina squeaked again and dropped the pizza, then stepped on it on the way to the couch. Fran wheeled Nina around and pushed her onto her back on the sofa, then crawled right over and on top of her. The robe gapped open to reveal the tops of her breasts.

20
Mar

Seasons of War

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

Dearest Leah,

I hope this finds you well. The news we have says things are moving forward; just last week I heard we took half the plain towards Isttyl. Are you eating enough?

My studies proceed apace – yesterday the Professor told me I was one of the most gifted students she has ever taught. I hope to be able to send you something soon, to remind you of home.

I’m waiting for you.
Veria

20
Mar

Shadow Stranger

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

“Sometimes when I walk home I see my shadow stretching out, and I feel like it belongs to someone else entirely. When it’s sunset and the sky is orange and everything else is tinged with rust, I walk home together with my shadow. Even though we’re going the same way, it’s a little bit like walking with a total stranger.”

20
Mar

The Care and Breeding of Metal Flowers

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang Special no. 6, Text | Tagged

“Telephone for you, Miss Primula,” the butler said from the other side of the antechamber’s door. “The man says it’s urgent.”

“Thank you, dear,” Primula said. She looked down at her patient, who was flushed and breathing erratically. “Would you mind passing it through? I’m at a bit of a critical point and would rather not stop.”

“As you wish, madame,” the butler said, cracking open the door a discreet amount to extend the telephone set into the room. His arms continued to extend until the set had crossed most of the chamber and was settled on the table beside Primula.

“Thank you,” Primula said again, and the butler’s arms retracted with a soft whoosh, the door closing behind him with a barely audible click. “You don’t mind, do you, love?” Primula asked her patient.

“Ah,” the woman gasped.

20
Feb

Please, Mr. Postman

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Stand-Alone Art | Tagged

by boredgods (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/169166.html) Love2

20
Feb

Just a Break

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Stand-Alone Art | Tagged

by sixdora (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/169403.html) Love1

20
Feb

Jolene

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Stand-Alone Art | Tagged

by morgie (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/164246.html) Love2

20
Feb

Justice Comes to Shit Mesa

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Text | Tagged ,

The red-dirt scrublands of West Texas had been blasted flat by the sun long ago, until there wasn’t so much as an anthill as far as the eye could see. Gnarled mesquite trees and tufts of desert grass clung to life wherever they could, adding a gray sort of green to the endless expanse of reddish-brown, but the scrubland and everything in it was dwarfed by the monstrous bowl of the sky overhead. The sun hung high, a tight ball of searing white light that roasted everything below to a crisp. There were railway tracks running on forever into the distance both east and west, the crossties a sullen, rusty black too hot to look at, let alone touch. A man could stand by the tracks and watch the train approach for hours, slowly growing larger without getting any closer at all, just swelling on the horizon like a fattening tick.

20
Feb

Fallen

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Text | Tagged

On weekends, the Timers usually let their iron grip on the city’s internal continuum integrity slacken. They said it was to keep everything from getting wound so tight it exploded. The people said it was because even Timers thought they needed a break. Most disagreed that this was so; after all, it is usually the responsibility of the person who makes the mess to clean it up.

The citizens were advised to stay indoors, and they usually did. People who left the safety of their own roofs tended not to come back. However, as with any general rule, there was at least one famous exception.

20
Feb

Where Metal Meets Skin

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Text | Tagged

“Mother, I don’t see why you’re so desperate for me to go to this silly spectacle,” the young blonde said. He put a hand on his back nervously, feeling the strange metal that had been used to replace a part of his spine after his accident.

“Why, Warren, you used to love such things, don’t be so negative!” Lady Ackiss exclaimed as she fixed his tie. “I thought this would be a most excellent way to celebrate your recovery!” She smiled brilliantly at her only son. “And this particular show is apparently debuting some fantastic invention. Just go along with it, my dear. No one has to know.”

Warren sighed, slightly. “It’s a good thing that the Ackiss name isn’t well known in these parts, mother, or they’d all know anyways.” He finished tightening his ties and sat back on his bed to tie his boots.

20
Feb

Chimera

Posted by | Categories Bang*Bang no. 29, Text | Tagged

Tomas stared from under the shrilling engines, hat pulled tight over his ears with mufflers tightened to try and muffle the noise and save his hearing, to where Viktor was yelling at him like it mattered what he was saying. Of course neither of them could hear the other, and Tomas was no good at reading lips and they knew it, but Viktor was still yelling and looking stern, obviously trying to get Tomas out from under the engine. Tomas, though, had no intention of coming out when he was looking like that, his mechanical eye glinting and leaking a bit of oil down into the corner of his eyes; it was an unpleasant sight that made his stomach curl and tighten up almost to his throat, one that made him busy himself even further.

I can’t hear you, he said to himself, like he would out loud. Even if the engines weren’t screaming bloody murder over my head, I’ve got the hat and the muffler, and I can’t hear your raspy owl screeching, old man. Get out of my engine room before a valve blasts into your face, accidentally on purpose.