Wherein our hero, an autistic sci-fi and fantasy author, battles the evils of Anxiety and its villainous cohorts; Procrastination and Executive Dysfunction. On this blr I post writing, stuff about writing, some art, and the odd thing I find inspiring, funny, or interesting.
J.P. Coutelier is a writer of sci-fi mystery and adventure, diagnosed with autism as an adult. Struggling to fit in as a child, they instead daydreamed to themselves, sometimes going for walks or spending time in the library reading about physics, history, psychology, and philosophy. Not much has changed.
Books by J.P. Coutelier
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Wherein our hero, an autistic sci-fi and fantasy author, battles the evils of Anxiety and its villainous cohorts; Procrastination and Execut
You can help fund further trips for Nevis on Ko-Fi:
Autistic writer of fantasy and scifi. Dumb human sidekick to Nevis, mighty descendant of Dinosaurs.
For fan stuff:
Fan art and comics and fiction. Mostly Baldur's Gate right now.
My account for original writing and pet photos:
https://bsky.app/profile/jp
“Hold this,” Jenn said, handing the mic to Tenley as they climbed back into the front of the van. “Aim it over there,” she instructed while lowering the window, gesturing toward the police line.
Tenley’s lips curled into a wry smile. “We’re spying? On cops?”
“Just be careful they don’t see you,” Jenn cautioned, plugging the headphones into the audio interface. She supposed, if she were to psychoanalyze herself, the police had been of little help when her parents disappeared. Meridiem were just too powerful, leaving her with little confidence that even well meaning cops had any ability to get justice. In that sense, she had learned to be independent.
She settled into the driver’s seat, sliding a keyboard onto her lap, fingers gliding across it as she tuned HULL to filter out extraneous noise - traffic, chatter of pedestrians, rustling of leaves - and all she heard were the voices around the crime scene.
Slowly, the voices of Chance and Francis emerged from the static.
“…that was a great show,” Francis was saying.
“What was?” Chance replied, sounding typically tired.
“Murder She Wrote! That Jessica Fletcher… she sings, she dances…”
“Emma.”
“Huh?”
“Jessica Fletcher had a British cousin, Emma MacGill, who performed in musicals. But they were both played by Angela Lansbury.”
“Ah. She was truly an all round entertainer.”
“Yeah,” Chance agreed, both men sighing wistfully.
In the van, Tenley shifted in her seat impatiently. “So what the hell are they talking about?”
“Middle age, I think,” Jennifer shrugged, “just… be patient.”
A new sound cut through the headphones - the sharp crunch of polished shoes on asphalt. Then a crisp new voice sliced through the air. “Detectives!”
Gordon Sharpe, Irongate’s Chief of Police. Jenn recognized the voice the news, when he had been urging citizens to stay calm and assuring them there was no danger after the green cloud had escaped Stag Corp’s tower. Technically true; barely any mutagen had actually landed on Irongate and wherever it did it was far more diluted than that in Tenley’s blood. It would be a while before the consequences could really be measured. For now the question was why would the chief of police be at a crime scene like this?
“Chief,” Chance said, equally perplexed. “I wasn’t aware you were coming to the scene.”
“Well, can’t be sat behind a desk all day. Figured I’d check how my boys are doing,” Sharpe laughed for a second, then his voice dropped low. “What are you still doing here, Chance?”
“Sir! We found a notebook and timetable from Nightworth Academy. We were about to go up there-”
“No,” Sharpe abruptly cut him off. “No that won’t be necessarily. I think it’s pretty clear what happened here. Kid ran off alone and got attacked by an animal. Tragic. We’ll have animal control sweep the area but there’s no need to go troubling anyone at Nightworth with this.”
“What?” Chance’s voice rose in disbelief. “Sir, with all due respect, we have a dead teenager. We should be-”
“The case is closed, Detective,” Sharpe’s voice was dangerously soft.
“I have seen animal attacks,” Francis spoke up. “This did not look like one to me.”
Sharpe let out a short, sharp laugh, a sound that held no humor. “Nightworth Academy is a prestigious institution. A place of learning and rehabilitation. They provide a valuable service to this community,” he lowered his voice again. “You want to get by around here, you need to learn to just let some things go. Do I make myself clear?”
There was a long, tense silence. Jenn held her breath, waiting for Chance’s response.
“Crystal,” Chance said, his voice flat.
“Good,” Sharpe said, his satisfaction radiating through the headphones. “Now just go bust some kids for smoking weed or something. Make the figures look good for my annual report.” Jenn could hear the crunch of his shoes as he walked away, the sound receding into the distance.
In the van, Jenn’s hands clenched into fists. Nightworth - it was a school for kids who were unwanted. Orphans, troubled youths. If it had been anyone else’s daughter there was no way they’d be so dismissive, but those kids had no-one to fight for them.
But what could she do about it?
It was as she was pondering her phone started to buzz. It was an unfamiliar sound to Jennifer and she was too lost in her thoughts to notice.
Tenley answered, then nudged. “It’s from Chance,” she said, “he wants to meet us at The Mill.”
You ever looked at one of those subscription websites that have three options: Basic for $5 a month, Pro for $12, or Enterprise for $100 per month.
Something like that. And you're wondering who the hell is paying for Enterprise?
The answer is they don't really expect many people will; it's just there to make the Pro option look like a bargain. It's one of the most blatant examples of goldilocks marketing. Like how restaurants might have $100 wines, but they're really just there to make the $60 wine look reasonable.
I'll be honest; I will always fall for this. I'm one of those people who shuns the expensive option and go for somewhere in the middle, and marketers have me completely figured out.
That said, I'm still not going to buy a keyboard or mouse that has the word 'gaming' in it - that's really just paying extra for some completely pointless LEDs.
And penguins lack large terrestrial predators, so their reaction to humans tends to be, “HELLO STRANGE GIANT PENGUINS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU HAVE ANY FISH?”
There is an international treaty that says we’re supposed to stay 6m away from penguins, and it’s really difficult because no one told the penguins, and they all desperately want to wander up and say hi.
i think this particular gag has gone out of style but it really is always funny when movies make their soundtracks diegetic in situations where it makes absolutely no sense
you know what hubble has done for us?? hubble has given us so much. hubble is the telescope that took All of these pictures. she is so iconic and so powerful and so good at her job <3 <3 <3 we love women in stem!!!!!
she is the moment she is the everything she is the love and light of my life!!! happy birthday hubble!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
