Tonight I had an especially vivid dream of a terrible winged
daemon clawing at my hand and sucking it into its wicked maw. After awakening
from my nightmare I found my hand in the right hip pocket of my duster,
clutching an intricately patterned static conducer disc and a folded schematic
for making an electroshock rifle with it written in a style that neither I nor
smoke could recognize. Smoke was wary of building something that I just
suddenly found in my pocket. Which is understandable I suppose.
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