Well, there went that streak of having my chapter and my 100k challenge day being the same number.  Oh well.

Last two days I have been taking it easy.  Haven’t written much, in fact at all.  But I did go out and have fun, and also stayed home and loafed around and recharged the old writing juices.

Today’s current total is 1,825 words.  And it is only 9:45 where I am.  So, I will be getting there for the day.  I am over 19k words in the hole.  But, still going to push forward with the challenge anyway.  It is fun.

I shall be going back to it after I post this blog entry.  So, until next time, another episode of Janus City…



Typhon stopped. He closed his eyes a second and tried to focus on the thought. He felt the strong surge of hate for a long moment, searching for the source. The rain started to fall, steady hard rain that Typhoon hated since it distorted his power, his gift.

The surge of hate vanished.

Dammit. He was stuck. Part of him wanted to wait again of the angry thought, someone wanted to kill people. It wasn’t a new thought, Typhon knew. He himself wished he could kill the city at times. Ye,t there wasn’t the spike of sudden anger in this thought. This was a deep hate for the world at large. Something that wanted to act on that hatred.

It was also something that he could usually track. Yet, the rain helped to retard his ability. And it would only get worse. Defeated for the moment, he went inside. Opening the door, he was knocked to the side by a teen girl as she rushed past him. She was thick, blue and pink hair flaring around her as she rushed past Typhon. She gave him a dirty look and walked off into the rain.

Typhon shook his head and walked into his apartment complex. He checked his mail, gave a nod to his neighbour Mrs. Gertz. She had been dead for five years, wasn’t a rez job. She was a ghost that still believed it was alive. Which happened often in Eastside.
He kept going up the stairs three flights to his small room. The door had been broken open. He frowned and concentrated, nobody was inside. He opened his door and found his small place had been ransacked. It was dark, and when he righted the lamp and switched it on, he was shocked to find a man sitting his chair, a smile on his flesh round face.

“Hello Typhon, I can see you are surprised I was able to be here?”

Typhon glared at the man.

“Yes, I also know about your small issue with not being able to talk,” the man said. “My name is Grenden. And, before you stress yourself more, this is the reason you couldn’t hear me.” Grendel took a thick meaty hand and pulled out a small pendant from under his shirt. The gray suited man smirked when Typhon’s eyes fell upon it.

“Yes, it is a mind shield. Not an inexpensive item.” He let out a small laugh. “Now, please have a seat on that wretched thing you call a couch.”

Typhon smirked at the man. He liked the couch. It was a paisley thing that was overstuffed and extremely comfortable. He flopped down on it, then looked at Grenden.

“I need you to find someone for me. Her name is Roxanne List.”