CM Simpson: Writer & Gamer

When he stepped away from it, the creature remained still. For a heartbeat, Larias thought he had failed, but then the beast moved, uncoiling so that it could stretch before turning its head so that it could observe both the god and the elf to whom he spoke. The elf’s face paled and she gently eased the tension in her bow. Still clutching it and arrow in one hand, she reached out with her other hand and leant against the nearest tree. “You are a god,” she admitted, “but what brings you here?” “I have to go,” Larias said, ignoring her question. “I will speak to your gods and ask if you can be made a guardian to the garden I must create so this creature can feed.” The creature turned its head toward him and flicked a tubular tongue across his face. It would drink nectar from the throats of flowers he had yet to design. The arrow-headed serpent coiled about his arm hissed, reminding him he had created two beasts that day, but all the woman did was nod. With his chariot now fl...

His mother would have disapproved, Larias knew, but the elf was beautiful and brave, not to mention a servant of the elven gods. He took the chariot from inside his tunic and dropped it at her feet. She did not stoop to retrieve it, but waited while he snapped his fingers and mouthed the word that would return the chariot to its usual size. She took a step back as it grew. When the change was complete, and she could see that it would not change again, she regarded Larias across its back. He was surprised to see scorn in her eyes. “I asked you to prove to me that you are a god,” she snapped, “not that you are a talented magician with an aptitude for making spectacular toys.” “At least you admit that it is spectacular,” Larias replied. Stepping to the front of the chariot, he laid his hands on either side of the 'face' forming a proud prow for the vehicle’s serpentine body. The markings carved and moulded along the vehicle’s sides depicted the many-legged form of some...

I was reading over a post from a game friend on FB. She was waking as I was getting ready to go to sleep. She was wondering what the day would bring while I was wondering if my soon-to-be-two-year-old would actually let me get some sleep. She made me think about all the hours I spend at the computer, and reminded me of a post another game-friend had put up the day before. That post was one of those clichéd attempts at a joke. It warned of the ‘worst FaceBook virus yet’. Apparently this one was the ASTC (A*s-Stuck-to-Chair) virus, where victims are so absorbed in their FB activities that their children starve, their house grows untidy and falls apart with neglect, and their pets become dangerously obese from never being walked. You know the sort of post I mean. Anyway, it got me thinking about all the time I spend in front of a computer screen, whether it’s playing games, writing, or reading what others have written, and I wondered how many good things there were in a day that...

“Name yourself, human, and state your business in the Lianreida.” Larias smiled and took two steps towards her. He was so swift and light the leaves beneath his boots did not have time to crumble. The woman reacted as he expected—she loosed the arrow. He stopped within arm’s reach of her, his smile growing wider as the arrow struck him in the chest and exploded in a myriad of splinter-sharp shards. As she drew a third arrow from her quiver and nocked it, he spoke. “My name is Larias, son of Kanort. I am the god of problem-solving and invention.” As if to prove his point, he held out his arm revealing the serpent now coiled along its length. He was glad he had thought to shield it from the second missile’s remains. With its bronze-colored hide and the silver arrowhead marking the center of its skull, it had become something beautiful. The woman recoiled, regarding him warily. “You don’t look like a god.” “And you are no more human than those at Saran’s Watch.” She conc...

Had Larias not been ensuring his chariot was hidden, he would have seen a second flight of griffins following the first. These were gold in colour and the helms of their riders gleamed brightly in the afternoon sun. They wheeled after the first flight in a perfectly disciplined formation before their riders rose in their saddles and flung a hail of long-shafted arrows after the first formation. The sunlight glistened momentarily off the arrowheads but the missiles could not reach their targets and the arrows fell harmlessly into the trees below. Larias did not see. He spoke a command to the chariot and watched it shrink until it fitted in the palm of his hand. As he bent to pick it, there was an angry hum behind him. Startled at being discovered, but not alarmed, Larias straightened and stepped nimbly aside, reaching back to snatch an arrow out of the air. As he turned, he gently muttered a string of words, smiling in satisfaction as the arrow grew supple in his hand. A woman s...

Larias turned the chariot further to the east. Senar’s Watch was close. He could see the vague shimmer of light showing that elven magic protected this portion of the forest—the one they preserved for themselves. He frowned, pondering recent events. What could have been powerful enough to break through even the edge of that magic? He shook his head, annoyed at himself. It wasn't as if he had to ask. There could be no other explanation beyond Beauwallin and his minions—that he had divined for himself. Ahead of him, a sudden geyser of smoke and flame gouted from the forest canopy, and Larias guided the chariot into the cover of the trees. He had no wish to be seen by mortals—not even those as long-lived as the elves. His bent his power to meet his need and knew the chariot was cloaked from sight. A brief feeling of relief washed through him; he had no desire for his latest creation to be destroyed before he had been able to give it life. Landing a couple of miles distant to t...

"Nika, stop talking or I'll put you back in the trunk." 47 (played by Timothy Oliphant), Hitman, 2007 I love this line, or rather, I love the interaction between the two characters that leads up to it, and the interaction that occurs directly after it. If you watch the scene from where 47 says "I brought you breakfast" to Nika, to where he closes his eyes in an attempt to find sleep in the car, you will see some interesting character interaction. Take note of the way the old men observe 47 and Nika, and then the exchange of glances between 47 and the old men. It says a lot about their view of women, and their understanding of the presumed relationship between the hitman and Belacof's ex-mistress. How do you put that unspoken dialogue in a book without it becoming a drag? It's a writer's challenge, don't you think? My favourite interchange occurs just after 47 has threatened to put Nika in the trunk. Watch the play of emotion on their ...