Valentines muse party logo
Who did you bring to the party?
I brought one of my characters from the novel I’m posting here on Reprobate Typewriter. He’s the Captain of the Upright Guard, and a hero of the Wars Against the Penitent Planets.
Is he/she your Valentine or anti-Valentine?
I had to drag him out from under a prostitute to get him here, today. He’s my anti-Valentine.
Which one of you is the more romantic person?
Under better circumstances, I think he would be. He’s incredibly loyal to his friends, and to the men he fought with, so I could see him being completely devoted to the right woman, but as it is, he’s much more consumed by the goal of atoning for his sins than making an effort to win a woman he knows he doesn’t deserve.
What gift are you giving to your (anti) Valentine?
I’m giving him the opportunity to retire to a prison planet with a woman who can’t stand him and spend the rest of his life making cheese. Don’t laugh. It’s what he wanted. No. REALLY. He asked for it. He…
Are you guys wearing red or pink (or black…)? 
I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Being a writer, I cannot find my shoes, and I don’t particularly care.
The Captain, is freshly waxed and in full, dress uniform. Burgundy, of course. I’ve never seen him wear anything else, since he left the Penitent Planets after the wars.
Did you bring any Valentine’s Day treats? 
I brought chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven.
The Captain brought a bottle of Lepterian Absinthe. He does not intend to share.
Name a song for our Love Playlist or Anti-Love Playlist (or both)!
The Captain brought Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima for the playlists. You can decide which one it belongs on:
Got a great anti/Valentine party game? 
Two truths and a lie. The Captain always wins at that. No one ever believes the truths.
Feeling the love or just feeling nauseous?
I’m already in trouble for bringing him out here in the first place. Obviously, the Captain will follow orders, but he won’t enjoy it. How will you have fun at the party? Probably by leaving him to his misery, and go hang out with the other writers whose characters and muses are sulking.
Has your muse been a good Valentine? My muse has been great, this year. I’m working on a revision and I’m making great progress!
*Jordan’s Bonus Question (feel free to ignore him…): Did you bring me & Sarah a musiversary gift? (Because we’ve put up with each other for five years and I think we deserve something.)
Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I brought you this box of muse candy.


  1. Reply

    Cheese-making, eh? I can think of worse retirement options.
    Will Scarlet, meanwhile, was all set to jump in with his usual exuberant comments, but is now 100% distracted by that doodle game you linked to. “It’s so shiny…” he murmurs. “So /blue/, though. Whaddo I have to hack to make it red?”

    • Reply

      If you left click on the screen–just one fast click–it pulls up the controls, and you can change colors there. And some other really addictive things. Thanks for stopping by!

    • Reply

      No, really… the Captain WANTS to go to the prison planet. He actually did ask for– Oh, never mind. You wouldn’t believe it, anyway. 😉

  2. Reply

    Maybe one day in the future he will find some joy in life again. Very interesting post, enjoyed it.
    Junetakey,com at Writer’s Gambit

    • Reply

      **considers cheese making as a sideline to writing** I did make cheese when I was a kid–had a serious fixation with it–but I didn’t have anyplace to age it, so it all turned out bland and spreadable.

  3. Reply

    I don’t think I could ever see cheese as a bad thing…
    That weavesilk site is super cool. Very mesmerizing. I had to stop myself or I’d probably stay there for hours.
    Thanks for coming to my party!

  4. Reply

    “drag him out from under a prostitute…” Yikes. So he’s that kind of guy? Gotcha. *turns to my muse and warns her to stay away* But we both like cheese… 😉

    • Reply

      Well, he’s definitely the willing to pay for sex type, but he’s not a seducer. He’s very straight forward, and willing to move on quickly, if somebody says no. Your muse wouldn’t be in any danger… unless, of course, she wants to be.

    • Reply

      I’m so glad you like him! If you’re interested in reading more, I’m blogging the story the Captain is in. It starts here. Blogging a novel isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s definitely a roller coaster ride.

  5. Reply

    Nick: *takes a seat next to the captain and strikes up a conversation while pouring himself a Vodka*
    Me: Yup. The two of them have plenty in common.

  6. Reply

    The Captain sounds awesome! Are you sure he’s not up for sharing his absinthe? Jari can offer him some brännvin or akvavit in return…? It’s strong stuff…

    • Reply

      Sharing, no. But he would almost certainly be willing to make a trade. And then, I think we can all run for cover.

  7. Reply

    “Atoning for sins, hmmn, Captain?” My muse takes a casual seat beside him, setting a bottle of Laphroaig in easy, no-strings reach. “Took me a long time to realize you can’t really do that. You can do good, and you can accept punishment, but it doesn’t atone.” He looks over at the man. “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

    He’d usually be far more circular and smalltalky about these sorts of conversations, but he figures if the Captain is drinking and as straightforward as you say, this might be the best tack.

    …Happy Valentine’s Day? >_>

    • Reply

      The Captain reaches for the bottle. “Ah, but I can’t accept punishment. The things I did during the war made me a hero. I came home, and everybody wanted to buy me a drink.”

      • Reply

        Sy grunts. “Tell me about it. I got a Chance-damned statue. Your sins were confined to the battlefront, eh? Lucky. I was despicable long before I rose to the occasion of war.” He glances down into his mostly-full flute of champagne. “Was it torture, then? The slaughter of innocents? Or simply the weight of mass casualties?”

        • Reply

          “Statue, huh?” The Captain chuckles. “I got an appointment to the Upright Palace, from the Basillea, herself. For years, I lived in the Lepterian City of K’nesh Riga, gathering intelligence. For years. I lived with them, ate with them, played with them. I knew them. They thought I was a merchant. I was there when the Fleet recalled me. I put on my uniform, claimed my ship, and did my duty. K’nesh Riga died in a firestorm. I burned everything. The men, the women, the children. I burned the oxygen out of the air they were trying to breathe. So, yeah. Torture, innocents, mass casualties… all of the above.”

          • Sy’s lips compress. “I see.” He takes a small, tight sip. “I’m sorry.” He considers in silence a while. “Would you do it again? If you had it to do over?”

          • Ordinarily, the Captain wouldn’t answer, and even now, he’s not drunk enough to answer quickly. He raises his glass, and gulps the last ounce or two. “Under the same circumstances… with the same information… I would. Yes.”

          • “And all the same, no easier for it. Even so, many of my crimes were for–” he pauses, but figures he owes a little openness in return. “Trust me, you don’t want to look back on deaths and pains you dealt to people and realize that it was utterly worthless. That you were a worthless creature. If you’d do it again–that means it was worthy. Still despicable, sure, but worthy.” Another silence. “But heavy. Heavy like Atlas doesn’t know the half.”

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