<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Dave Chimes on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/dave-chimes/</link><description>Recent content in Dave Chimes on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 28 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/dave-chimes/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Kate Needs a Six</title><link>/stories/2011/01/28/kate-needs-a-six/</link><pubDate>Fri, 28 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/28/kate-needs-a-six/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(If you want to know Kate&amp;rsquo;s fate, feel free to grab a dice, and a pencil/pen and a little bit of paper, to join in. Instructions will be given periodically in brackets, just like this. If you don&amp;rsquo;t have a dice, you can just search for an online generator)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kate closed the padlock, locking the door in front of her. The click contained a heavy, thrilling finality. No going back now. Kate&amp;rsquo;s stomach flipped, as she felt her pulse throb across her entire body. Mouth dry, heart racing, she closed her eyes, then drooped and rested her head against the door. No going back now. The padlock was her final choice to make. Except, in some ways, she had no choice at all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Kate Needs a Six</title><link>/stories/2011/01/28/kate-needs-a-six/</link><pubDate>Fri, 28 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/28/kate-needs-a-six/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(If you want to know Kate&amp;rsquo;s fate, feel free to grab a dice, and a pencil/pen and a little bit of paper, to join in. Instructions will be given periodically in brackets, just like this. If you don&amp;rsquo;t have a dice, you can just search for an online generator)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kate closed the padlock, locking the door in front of her. The click contained a heavy, thrilling finality. No going back now. Kate&amp;rsquo;s stomach flipped, as she felt her pulse throb across her entire body. Mouth dry, heart racing, she closed her eyes, then drooped and rested her head against the door. No going back now. The padlock was her final choice to make. Except, in some ways, she had no choice at all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Smart Duct Tape 3: Alternative edition</title><link>/stories/2011/01/02/smart-duct-tape-3-alternative-edition/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/02/smart-duct-tape-3-alternative-edition/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Officer Lacey was in trouble. The strange wrapping machine she&amp;rsquo;d brought home from evidence storage at the police station had gone rampant while she slept through the night, completely oblivious that it had turned rogue. She&amp;rsquo;d awoken to a house rigged with traps, and containing a crazed machine that, going by the duct-tape snares distributed throughout the place, was intent on capturing her. She&amp;rsquo;d left her bedroom, and headed downstairs this late morning on her day off, to be confronted by a bizarre scene in her living room, where she now stood. A washing machine blocking the exit to the hallway, and front door. Sneaky lines of fishing wire across rooms at ankle-level. Her home had been turned against her, and still hosted the machine responsible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Smart Duct Tape 3: Alternative edition</title><link>/stories/2011/01/02/smart-duct-tape-3-alternative-edition/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/02/smart-duct-tape-3-alternative-edition/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="smartducttape2.html"&gt;Machine part 2&lt;/a&gt; by Jessica&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Officer Lacey was in trouble. The strange wrapping machine she&amp;rsquo;d brought home from evidence storage at the police station had gone rampant while she slept through the night, completely oblivious that it had turned rogue. She&amp;rsquo;d awoken to a house rigged with traps, and containing a crazed machine that, going by the duct-tape snares distributed throughout the place, was intent on capturing her. She&amp;rsquo;d left her bedroom, and headed downstairs this late morning on her day off, to be confronted by a bizarre scene in her living room, where she now stood. A washing machine blocking the exit to the hallway, and front door. Sneaky lines of fishing wire across rooms at ankle-level. Her home had been turned against her, and still hosted the machine responsible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>