Meredith Harmon
Bio
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
Stories (196/0)
The Tricky One
Ah, I see she's up to her old tricks again. She pulls this every now and again, usually after she loses rather spectacularly at one of her normal troublemaking soirées. She was particularly nightmarish after that mess with Vasilisa. She loves creating mayhem in such a way that the challenger always brings doom upon themselves. She thinks it absolves herself of responsibility in the long run.
By Meredith Harmonabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
- Top Story - April 2024
The Saphirine, Part 2
"Un-bee-LEEV-ah-bull!" Each syllable echoed in the small room after the show. Pony Tail was agitatedly waving his arms and glaring at his friend. "So, let me get this straight: one of the richest women on the planet proposes to you, she's got access to tech shit we can't even BUY yet even if we had the budget which we don't and won't in a million years, you'll probably live longer than anyone you know, offers to PAY you for it, and you wanna run home to Mommy? A mommy who's batshit and wants to ruin your life? And has said so on numerous occasions?"
By Meredith Harmon21 days ago in Futurism
The Factory
Life isn't like a TV show. Yes, civilization as we knew it got toppled. Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned. You want to go back to minimum wage? Stupid people getting in your business, telling you what to do with your body and property? Working yourself into the ground but no time to be with family? Yeah, screw that.
By Meredith Harmon25 days ago in Fiction
- Top Story - March 2024
SolutionsTop Story - March 2024
I was itchy. I wanted to shrug, scratch that itch, but Mother wouldn't let me. It was infuriating. It was agonizing. You soft skins, with your flexible parts. Does your progenitor echo at you for flexing, scratching, moving? You try being almost motionless for millennia, and see how you feel when the only excitement comes from hurricanes, earthquakes, landslides!
By Meredith Harmonabout a month ago in Fiction
Ambassatrix
I came to King Zi-Rian's court in the late spring of that year, as ambassador sent to His Majesty with rich gifts and messages from surrounding kingdoms I had previously visited. As I was presented to Himself in court, his eldest lounged at the foot of the throne.
By Meredith Harmonabout a month ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Snacktime Sonata Challenge
Assassin - Under Contract
Of course my name is Raven. What else could it be? When you're born with a shock-full of coal black hair and never lost it and it falls past your cute little ass, and it never went through lighter phases in childhood, and even if you have a normal name, it's always Raven. When you have a pointed chin, what they think is cute to call "elfin ears" (bleh!), and even though my eyes were bright blue even after the cyborg modification, it was always Raven. It was the first name I spelled out on the lined paper in school, it was the name I used when I doodled "Raven loves Johnnie" on the cover of my science book, and when I grew older, it was the name I carved into the buttocks of my first victim. He got to live, though the second one didn't. It was a bit easier to carve with a knife by that point, to make the "adjustments" to a person's body required when I took the contract. But the money's more than just good, I get to play with fun toys, and I get to choose my contracts. I'm a freelancer, unlike those poor schlobs in the police force.
By Meredith Harmonabout a month ago in Futurism