L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Editing Cavern Clipper✨
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smoking-gnu.bsky.social
L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Editing Cavern Clipper✨
@smoking-gnu.bsky.social
3.6K followers 6.4K following 4.2K posts
Writer. Dog and birdy lover. Inept gamer. Social barren wasteland. Suspected Grey-Ace.
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https://www.wattpad.com/1529561072-moving-day
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smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! The morning has been filled with struggles and reconstruction, just as much struggling as Jennifer is musing on in this snip from TLC.
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I’m in the middle of musing on the horrible possibility of going back home, and how I’d rather deep-throat a wasps nest, when my phone vibrates. I glance down to see a message from Joey. Knowing him, he’s inviting me to dinner tomorrow tonight, which is technically tonight. When was the last time I had a proper dinner? Oh, right, three weeks ago, when Brianna took me out on our first and last date. A nice local place and I even paid for my half. Probably shouldn’t have ordered the salmon, but then I thought I’d still have a job and I’d been saving up a bit. The salmon was great. The date… not so much.
November 10, 2025 at 8:59 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
So progress is again apace in #WIPTLC. Research contact got back to me yesterday with everything I needed, and I was so excited I only managed a few hundred words. Stopped just short of the critical climax conversation of Part 1. Will tackle the rest tomorrow.
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Day 9 of challenge, 2148 words written into TLC.
November 9, 2025 at 10:57 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPsnips. Jennifer (of TLC) is not having a nice time here, what with having just woken up out of a hibernation pond and instantly bolting out of a sector police impound lot, because flarpin' *aliens everywhere*!
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“Where the hell am I?” I ask myself under my breath as I run across what looks like a wide open square with a strange spiral fountain in the middle. I’m running over triangular flagstones on my socks. Where are my shoes? “Ow fuck!” The socks are already giving way and I’m basically running on my bare feet. I look up to try and identify my surroundings beyond the growing crowd of eyes, so many different eyes. The skyscrapers around the square are strangely unsettling. They look like blades with rounded edges piercing the sky. Most of their windows are round or oval with intricate frameworks interlinking them. I slow down to gawk at the alien structures, as I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it on earth. The strangest part of it all is how run-down everything looks, like it was a picture of some far-future utopia, but a few hundred years after people stopped trying to make the place look nice.
November 9, 2025 at 8:31 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Today's snip from TLC comes from the opening of Chapter 1, right at the start just before sh*t starts to go sideways.
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The vibrations from the steering wheel were getting more and more pronounced by the day. Sooner or later this ancient truck was going to give in permanently, and I have no way to replace it. Add it to the list, I guess. My name is Jennifer Carpenter, and I’m very newly unemployed. Not that the Walmart cashier job was worth anything, but it helped keep some food on the table at the very least. I’m also stupidly tipsy while I’m driving this back road back home, which it only barely qualifies as such, being a small one-room building in the back yard of a friendly family’s property. Wondering if I should just park nearby and sleep on the back seat so I don’t disturb them. They’re nice people with well behaved kids, and it’s a weeknight. I glance over at the dashboard to see that it’s actually a week morning now. Damn. Joey had me forget my troubles a little too hard at the bar, it seems. At least he was buying. Buying. Not a lot more of that I can do for the time being. Time to look for another job. At least I have the month’s rent stashed away. Better get used to ramen again.
November 8, 2025 at 9:05 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! For today i have the absolute pleasure to present you all with something absolutely Cursed and Disturbing from TLC. Please, enjoy!
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“Does it look like a drawer with stretched skin in it?” “…yes?” I answer hesitantly, still looking at it. “Then you found it. Climb into it, both your feet, stand inside the drawer.” Driona issues the instructions matter-of-factly, as if the action is the most normal thing to do. “Excuse me? Why the fuck would I do that?” I ask and the thought of stepping on that… to put it mildly, the thought of it will probably replace the clown in my nightmares. “You want a protective covering for your feet, don’t you? Shoes, right? I don’t use it myself, don’t need them, but some passengers do. It’s a fairly common practice.” “Oh, good, a fairly common practice with space aliens. Whatever could go wrong?” I’m careful to say this under my breath, as quietly as possible as I continue to stare at the twitching skin. “Well, you can always go barefoot all the way if you like,” Driona says from the cockpit, and I clamp my mouth shit. Apparently she has very good hearing. I’m still staring at the skin, wondering if I should just risk being barefoot, but change my mind in an instant and in one smooth movement climb into the drawer. The skin inside distends like a rubber sheet and stays like that for several seconds before contracting around my feet. I nearly panic, but it’s over in a moment. The skin pulls away, and I have brand new leather shoes that fit my feet like gloves.
November 7, 2025 at 8:55 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. Still with TLC here and had to go with vibes for this particular word choice for today.
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Three flying saucers occupy other landing pads next to the one Driona’s ship is on. I really have to talk to her about if it has a name or not. “Do not be alarmed, Jennifer. This drone is an extension of my will, and I placed it there as a guard. I keep my guests safe, even if the possibility of mishap is extremely remote.” “Right. Good. Cool. So… where is everybody?” I ask, looking around at the now completely illuminated complex, as my eyes adjust properly. “We are just now concluding negotiations,” Rondu says cryptically. I wait for him to elaborate. “Negotiations? With who?” I ask when it becomes obvious there wasn’t going to be any elaboration. “Why, with the Kowellians you chose to give an easy out to with your stunning manoeuver earlier today! News of that little event is already spreading, even though it’s of far less importance than most other galactic events. You have already turned a fair few heads!”
November 6, 2025 at 9:51 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Well, i got over the daily minimum for #WIPTLC today, but it was an effort riddled with research and distractions, but i managed to tangentially work in the Roswell Incident into the story.
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Nov 5 writing progress in TLC, 1933 words written out of 1700.
November 5, 2025 at 11:16 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Today, in TLC, we witness an alien being indirectly exposed to the one thing us humans do *really well*.
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“It’s not possible… wait, it goes on? Oh no, it goes on and on for centuries! You- you’ve been at war for millennia!!!” Driona says as the text flies down faster and faster. “Yeah? Ever since we picked up a nice pointy stick, I guess?” “It can’t be that bad. What about a survey of current weapons on the planet? It can’t be that bad…” her desperately hopeful voice trails away as an entirely new page of data starts scrolling down. Her eyes widen even more as she stares at it, and for a second I’m worried that her eyes will actually pop out of her skull. “This is impossible!” she breaths, her voice only barely edging out the noise of the calculating console by a few decibels. “There’s… there’s so much! How… how do you use all of this? On each other? Why?” I stare at her with my mouth open, unable to answer. “You… you’re from some place called the ‘United States’, correct?” she demands more than asks. “Yeah? New Mexico to be exact.” “Your country has more weapons in it than most Empires have across dozens of worlds! You’ve fought more wars on your one planet than half the galaxy has in ten millennia of recorded history!”
November 5, 2025 at 8:53 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Today sucked, but I at least got this much into #WIPTLC. So there's that, I guess...
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Nov 4 TLC progress 1253 words written out of 1700.
November 4, 2025 at 10:06 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPsnips. Shorter snip for today, but at least i have the word in TLC.
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“What do you think you are doing??” Voliannas hisses in my ear, suddenly close enough to my head for me to feel her body heat. A warm caterpillar. Ergh. “I am doing as I am rightfully entitled to,” I reply, turning my head to face her eye to eye. My voice is as firm as steel, and I lock into a staring contest with her. “Maybe if you had tried listening out there, we’d have other options than this. Her face drastically contorts, and she seems to be speechless for the first time since we met. Before either of us can say anything more, the Arbiter speaks up from his podium.
November 4, 2025 at 8:48 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Day 3 of #WIPTLC and minimum count exceeded once again! Past the 10% milestone! We're zooming, baby!
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Day 3 of Nov challenge for TLC, 2384 of 1700 words written.
November 3, 2025 at 10:43 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Again from TLC, and featuring a very not-nice person talking to Jennifer for a court case of some sort.
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“Good Afternoon, I’m-“ ‘Yes, yes I know. Miss Jennifer of someplace called Earth. Some confusion is involved there, we’re going to have to sort out that soon enough for the paperwork!” A cold shiver crawls down my spine. I do not want that kind of paperwork to happen, as I said to Rondu earlier. This is my first, hopeless chance to forestall it. “Well-“ “There’s no need to thank me, this is just tradition. You have nothing to worry about or even anything you need to do yourself except testify and be present for this civil trail. At the least you look presentable. Nice, even. For a primate.” Voliannas scans me up and down while saying this, and my hackles would be bristling if I had any. “Now look-“ “The proceedings have already been set rolling, Jennifer,” Voliannas continued like a charging bull on meth, and with every bit the same ability to notice other people around her. “You see, Jennifer, the Kowellians have been an annoyance to this part of the galaxy for centuries now, even stretching back to the time of the Empire. But they’re pacifists, so no one has as of yet acquired any real cause to bring them to heel. Until you were found in one of their pods!”
November 3, 2025 at 8:39 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Today's in the bag! Much progress in #WIPTLC, plus some in-depth advice on how to make this specific sound plausibly legally sound, as Jennifer attempts to use an overworked stellar nation legal system to her advantage.
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Nov 2 daily progress on TLC, 2330 words written out of 1700.
November 2, 2025 at 11:08 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! And we're back on the TLC train, now that I’ve restarted work on it for November. Will be doing 50K just like everyone else is doing this month, so I’ll prob be doing TLC permanently for the month, writing the words in as needed.
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The hallway is cramped with many different aliens trying to take up as little space as possible and failing miserably, and the bench I’m sitting on was not designed for human comfort. For that matter, it doesn’t look like it was designed for anyone’s comfort, but more like a one-size-doesn’t-fit-anyone-whatsoever type deal. If everyone is uncomfortable, no one has any real cause to feel left out, I suppose. At the very least the business formal suit I have on still fits perfectly, to my complete surprise, even tough I had to clean a few cobwebs out of it. The thought still makes me cringe, thinking what might have been living in it. It still looks good, at least it did on the mirror on Driona’s ship. It had been a bit smudgy, but it did its job. I even got my hair up to a moderately presentable fashion, considering I had nothing to actually work with.
November 2, 2025 at 9:15 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Alllrighty then, I think that went pretty well for my first day back into #WIPTLC, and a good first day for this month's 50k challenge! Even managed to work in tomorrow's #WIPSnips prompt to boot!
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November challenge day 1, 2050 words written out of minimum 1700 for TLC.
November 1, 2025 at 9:55 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Hello #Writevember!

I am GNU, and for this month I will be continuing where I left off last week on my new project, "All You Need Is TLC". Short description in image.
Goal is to hit 50K words in this WIP this month.
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All you need is TLC Jennifer had no idea, after being abducted by aliens, that unfolding events would lead to her being a equal partner in establishing the first human PMC in our chaotic Milky way galaxy, the first human venture beyond our own world. Yet here she is, cutting deals and laying the foundation of the first few pebbles before the landslide. Featuring awkwardness over confusing cross-species feelings and court-emancipated Defence AIs. Will the venture succeed? Will the galaxy even notice? (they're really hoping not until things are properly established).
November 1, 2025 at 8:45 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Today's snip from Clipper is a bit different (and i think i've shown it before) as the highlighted word is a modified version of synonyms for "ancestor" (Matriarch/Patriarch in this case), modified for specific story reasons.
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What a difference a single day makes. Only yesterday had they all celebrated the return of the waxing season, eating their fill for the first time in many wanings. Now many of their kin were dead, caught in the desperate, hopeless defence of their home. This one had not been involved in the defence, as they had been instructed by the kincraft’s Trinarch to flee, to carry the vital message they had received only a few wanings ago. They thought they’d have more time. Now they had to take up the burden alone. A shadow passed in front of the light seeping in through the slits as a human craft passed in front of the local Vein, momentarily blocking off the light. Blips of blue erupted outside, and two more detonations shook the walls, this time far closer than before. The figure had to fully stop in order to not be shaken off the wall.
November 1, 2025 at 8:33 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'day #WIPSNIPS! Now with the actual snip of today's word. Flarpin' cleaning days, I swear to glod...
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“It’s him! It’s the claw man!” she said, the words filled with venom and fury. Sam turned his head around to see Nyxel standing on the deck but looking towards the bow. He looked in that same direction and saw, on the pod screens, a ship in the middle of the approaching fleet. It was slightly larger than the Silverbrow and looked more sleek and intimidating with a slightly darker colour to it in general, from its sails to its keel. Other, far larger pirate ships flanked it, but this ship in particular seemed to be the center of the swarm, its heart and its driving force. And on its hull, in-between the glowing and pulsing flake-strips, were four painted red claw marks, as if some gigantic monster had clawed at the ship in passing, only to reveal that it was a flesh and blood underneath. “Nyxel says someone is here!” Sam called through the intercom, needing to shout to be heard above the wind. “I know it! That’s the Briarpatch! It’s Captain Jason’s ship! Looks to be their flagship!” Gunney replied.
October 31, 2025 at 10:23 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Here we see a trio of not very nice people, shrouded in shadows, colluding with each other to sow dissent amongst the crew of the Silverbrow in Cavern Clipper.
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“This… this could be our opportunity!” the other male voice said, sounding triumphant. “What the hell are you talking about this time?” the female voice asked. “Do I have to spell it out? Of course I do. Okay, lets say the captain comes and calms down the situation in there and the blue freak hatches and has turned into something else… what do you think the crew is going to think about it? I mean really?” The other two were silent as they contemplated the scenario. “Now I’m thinking Clarence has the right idea. Maybe we can prod him in the right direction, but indirectly. Start spreading around the cocoon rumour, but add a few details to it. Small but disgusting and disturbing.” “Like what?” the squeaky voice asked. “Well I don’t fucking know! Just say… just say it drank someone’s blood to turn into the cocoon or something! A captured pirate that the captain was keeping secret somewhere, or one of the Snipdragons while we were fighting! Anything! Just make it sound horrible!” the other male voice said, his patience sounding thin as ice.
October 30, 2025 at 8:10 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPsnips. Was surprised i had this word in Clipper, to be perfectly honest.
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The tunnel leading to the Silver Trails cavern proved to be narrower and more winding than most others Sam had seen so far, but the captain seemed well-versed with navigating it. Sam saw the tunnel walls passing by about fifty meters away, and felt an edge of claustrophobia tickle his senses. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of the notion. Maybe it was because of the clothes he was wearing. It was a peculiar blend of business formal wear and the kind of costume one would see in pirate movies with characters going to some sort of ball, and looked like neither. His collar was a bit constricting, but he resisted the urge to pull at it. Maybe it was the collection of very obvious gun emplacements scattered throughout the length of the tunnel, their guns tracing the ship’s every movement through the air. They didn’t appear to be bothering the crew, though, as some of them waved at a few of those emplacements. Sam squinted, and thought he saw people on them waving back.
October 28, 2025 at 8:43 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Have to admit, i had to write this one into Clipper here and now, dunno if it really fits, but it's there now.
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The ship creeped sideways like a crab, drawing closer and closer to the thumping. They were less than two hundred meters away, Sam estimated, when the thumping and flashes stopped and was replaced by persistent but uneven blue glows. The left side glow was smaller and looked like it had two horizontal bars while the right was larger and had at least four. Sam could hear the crew getting into position on the deck as well as weapons being readied. Then the screaming pierced through the thick fog. He had to admit, it had a blood-curdling effect on him. More text crawled over Sam’s screen. “Target the smaller lights,” it said, and yellow brackets on the display locked onto the smaller, two-bar light-source. “Keep firing until light dies, then switch to grape-shot.”
October 27, 2025 at 8:27 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. Got a bit of hat play for you here from clipper, as Sam is still adjusting to his new environment in this particular early scene.
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“What the hell is this? Are these spray lights or something? Are we on a sports field? Who builds houses in those?” Sam asked with tears streaming down his cheeks. Edgar sighed next to him. “Mind the step in front of you.” Sam edged his foot ahead and felt the one step while his eyes were closed, and carefully descended three of them onto a path that felt like it was made from slightly rounded paving stones. “I guess you need these now,” Edgar said and nudged Sam on the left shoulder with something. Sam opened his left eye slightly, still shielding it from the light, to see Edgar offering him a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses. “Hah! Yeah, those’ll work. Thank you,” he said, and took the proffered items and put them on.
October 26, 2025 at 8:06 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! This is unfortunately the closest I could come to lottery in Cavern Clipper. I feel like this is not the setting where it would readily occur.
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Eyes darting all around, he spotted a small gap between the held the shield and the floor at the robot’s feet. Barely a centimeter wide, he pointed the weapon there and continued firing. Two bursts made it through before the robot adjusted, but it was enough. Both chewed at its metal feet, blasting one nearly apart, and it toppled forward. Suddenly the crowd behind the robot was open, and a dozen pairs of eyes stared at him in shock. Sam pulled the trigger again. Click. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam said, looking down at the empty weapon, then back up. The shocked looks were turning to puzzlement. He decided not to give them a chance and charged forwards, throwing the weapon at the first man in the front. It hit him square in the mouth, and he toppled backwards into the group. Then Sam landed, swinging wild, desperate and above all inexperienced punches and kicks at the enemies. They scattered, more in bewilderment than from any harm that was being caused. One even dropped a length of pipe he was holding, which Sam quickly scooped up and started swinging it instead.
October 25, 2025 at 8:15 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. The snip from Clipper paints a picture that suggest total fubar... but you'd be surprised.
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Sam then also noticed, after a thick woven arm of vines cleared out of the way, several large tunnel entrances on that side, both high and low. Each one seemed to have something hovering in its mouth, some sort of… “Ships?” he asked out loud. “Pirates,” the captain confirmed. Sam looked back at the captain for a second then tuned back to the binoculars. He counted four in total to his right before turning to his left. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he counted five more. “Nine? Nine pirate ships? And they’re blockading tunnel exits?” “Yes, and very obviously so. There are more than nine tunnels, though, and I expect all of them to have their very own pirate ship. Sam reached up and scratched his head. “That’s a lot of pirates,” he commented. “Quite a lot, yes. Far more than the Silverbrow can handle, especially with how damaged he is.” “He?” Sam asked curiously. “It’s my ship, isn’t it? It’s a he.”
October 24, 2025 at 9:50 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Mornin' #WIPSnips. Best i could do with gradient from Clipper.
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Footsteps approached and something rough and heavy fell on their right shoulder and roughly flipped their upper body onto its side, allowing the figure’s face to be seen in the sudden artificial light that now flooded the passageway. “Aha! I knew one of you would come this way! You always do you predictable bugs!” the assailant said and stepped into the light. A human. Male, one with light skin, a large red beard and a shiny bald head. He wore brown leathers over his body with the exception of the bright white shirt over his chest, painted with four diagonal claw marks across it. He grinned widely, exposing unnervingly blunt teeth in an expression the figure had been taught meant enjoyment for their kind. Its two piercing blue eyes swept over the prone figure as if assessing the value of a carcass in a market.
October 23, 2025 at 12:32 PM