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IFQ Issue #49

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Arts and Poetry Mod

Joined: 10 Oct 2010
Topics: 122
Posts: 1858
Location: Surrounded by many beautiful naked men



PostPosted: Sat Oct 31, 2015 9:40 pm    Post subject: IFQ Issue #49 Reply with quote

Welcome back IFians! After two years of the presses being shut down, they are grinding back to life again along with everything else around the site. New mayor, old friends, and the same go-get-em attitude that has always made this site great is returning, gathering steam the harder we all work at it, and we here at the IF Quirer are working to do our part! Now, without further ado, let us look to the future and see what it has in store for us!

It's that time of year again, when the streets of IF become haunted by not only ghosts and ghouls, but also the IFians themselves as they are transformed into the most ghastly group of hell beasts, deadly beauties, and all around terrifying creatures to be found. We the editors would like to once more, for the third year running, our very own -

Halloween Parade






Tikanni Corazon



Vikas and Vishal Muralidharan

Kalanna Rai












And that is all for the 2015 Halloween Parade! I hope you all enjoyed it and come again next year to see just what we IFians can do with this terrifying holiday!

Story by Seraphi

We are sorry to report that this issue of the diary was damaged before delivery and as such we've had to forgo printing the actual pages and instead had one of our top people recover the words themselves though the paper it came on is faded beyond repair. Please enjoy this continuation of the Diary of a Newb.



"Hm...what do you think, Amsel? Blue?" I flick my wrist to the right and the petals of the wildflowers turn a bright blue like the sky. "Or pink?" I flick my wrist to the left and a rosy blush colors the petals instead.

"Neither," the crow replies from my shoulder, ruffling his wings.


"Both then."

"Don't be difficult. Pick one."

"I did."

"I hardly think--ow!" I hiss as I waggle my hand back and forth to both relieve the pain the peck I received and swat at Amsel. The result is a shrill cackle as he flies to perch on the tree above and a deep mottled indigo color staining the flower's petals.

"Oh," I say, slightly awed. I fluff petals lightly so that they perk up and reach towards the sun. "Wonderful idea, Amsel. Though you could have been nicer about it.”

I rub the still aching part of my hand, scowling at the ground. As I do my eyes come to rest on a mottled patch of brown in the earth. It looks spongy...perhaps it is moss? Regardless, it looks in great need of some care, so I reach out to lightly rest my palm on it.

A hand shoots out of the ground and grabs me. Shrieking, I fling myself backwards. The hand stays with me, dangling from my wrist, but there is a ripping and cracking sound from where it has detached from the arm it originated from. There is a beleaguered groan as a man begins to emerge from the ground.

Panic grips me, but it quickly subsides once the torso emerges from the ground. I tilt my head to the side. This zombie is far too dapper for your run-of-the-mill apocalyptic variety. He sports a very nice - despite the holes and dirt - suit, there is a stained handkerchief in the lapel, and a striped bowtie sits crookedly at his neck. In his hand, the one not still attached to me, he has an envelope, black with silver lettering swirled on it that reads ‘To Seraphi.’

The zombie stops moving, seemingly tired of trying to wrest himself completely from the earth, and extends the envelope closer towards me. He groans again and I take it. I slip the letter out, unfold it, and begin to read.

Greetings Seraphi,
It is with high spirits that I send this letter to you.
Just recently I have awoken from a deep slumber, and, to my great delight, find myself in a city reborn. New and old have gathered, and If thrives once more. There is only one thing missing, and that is your presence.
Please, won’t you join us again?
I eagerly await your reply.
The Infectiously Charming Gentleman and Master of Darkness misterbiz

My face breaks into a wide smile. If! It has been so long. Too long. A pang of guilt hits me for my lengthy absence. I resolve to remedy that with my return.

“I will be there,” I enthusiastically tell the zombie. He nods once in understanding. I stand and call to Amsel, whom has been watching the whole exchange with amusement. He flies down and perches on my shoulder. I begin to walk away but notice that the zombie has not yet left, so I go back and crouch down.

“Is there something else?” I ask. He groans and gestures towards my wrist. “Ah,” I say as I gently pry his detached hand away and place it in his open palm. “Sorry about that.”

He shrugs as if it happens frequently and then starts to twist his way back into the ground. Once he is gone I stand and turn, heading off towards the City of If.


“We’re home,” I chime a short time later as I make my way up the walkway of our house on the outskirts of the city. I am mindful of my steps as the stones beneath my feet are covered in moss and overhanging grass.

“It needs some work,” Amsel says as he lands on the roof, hop-skipping to the side as some of the shingles slip from beneath his talons.

“I suppose a touch up wouldn’t hurt,” I agree as I wave my arms, using my magic to whisk away vines from where they have crept over doors and windows. As I shorten them to a more modest length I notice something sticking out of the mail slot in the door. Curious, I go up and try to open the door, but it sticks. I throw my weight into, almost falling when it gives. There are letters scattered everywhere on the floor which kept the door from opening properly. I sit on the floor and begin to go through each of them. I get more excited the deeper into the pile I delve, reading faster and faster as I go.

“Look at all this, Amsel!” I shout of the open doorway in way of a summons.

Amsel swoops inside and lands on the floor. He hops about, head twisting as he browses over some of the letters. After a few moments he flutters up to perch on my shoulder.

“You’ve lost all motivation for tidying up haven’t you?”

I grin because yes. Yes I have.

“Well, let’s go then,” he says as he takes flight.

I follow him out of the house and down the street at a jog as he soars towards the center of the city. The fountain there is bubbling happily, the water sparkling in the sunlight. A gentle breeze blows from each corner of If enticing me to explore every nook and cranny. I close my eyes and spin. When I stop I open my eyes and find myself facing the Fantasy Forest, the new growth curling onto the cobblestones and tempting me forward. So I go.

It takes me all day, but it is time well spent. When I return to the city center I sit on the lip of the fountain and sigh in happiness. Amsel, having done some exploring on his own, lands on my knee, cocks his head to the side, waits patiently for me to speak.

“I’ve missed this place,” I say as I scratch the top of his head. Amsel’s eyes shine with content.

“There’s still one place you haven’t been yet, though.” He reluctantly shakes my hand away and flies off to perch on the roof of the Inn.

The building glows with the lights that shine from inside. I can hear chatter and laughter from where I sit across the street, and shadows dance in the windows as people move about. I smile as I get up and walk over, a bounce in my step.

It’s good to be back.

Story by PopeAlessandrosXVIII

This month we find ourselves seeking out information on this mysterious new mayor who has come to reside in the mayoral mansion as of late. Out of nowhere, she's taken home base and kept the homeruns coming. Crack reporter Stein and his cybernetic canine companion slash camera crew have managed to sneak on to the premesis and score us an interview with this driving force to the newest revival.


Settling back into the soft leather chair in the mayor's lounge, Stein looks over at the new mayor, hard at work behind her desk. With a nod to Rover he pulls out his notes, a click and whir sound from the dog letting him know that the recording device is active. Then, with a smile at the woman, he begins the interview.

Stein: Good of you to make time for the press Miss Mayor. I just have a few questions, starting with, how does it feel to be back?

kkdestiny: It feels amazing, not just to be back in the city, but to have such activity buzzing around and to actually have things to respond to.

Stein: I see. It must be delightful for you. How are you settling into your new abode?

kkdestiny: Ah well...Im not sure 'settling' is the word for it. I've dusted the place, and decorated it so it's more to my liking...but I really spend most of my time at the library, deep in the history books. I figured it was best to see where we've been in order to figure out where to go from here...

Stein: I bet you found some interesting things buries back there. I myself have found some fascinating issues of the IF Quirer buried under piles of dust that were a thumping good read. That aside, may I ask, what drew you back to the city?

kkdestiny: I'm not sure exactly...I was taking a break from modding another site to explore some old interests...and then it dawned on me that I haven't visited in at least a year. It was a very embarrassing revelation, it felt like when you promise to call your best friend one night, and then finally remember the promise really late the next night when your friend might already be asleep.

Stein: That is a problem we've all had at least once in our lives. It's not pleasant, but it happens. So, you came back and. . . How did you go about initiating this revival?

kkdestiny: Well, it's all kind of a blur right now...the revival probably started like it usually does- I came back out of the blue and started kicking things until someone took notice. From there, I was asked if I wanted to be the Mayor, I saw it as an opportunity to have more thngs to do, so I took it. My first act as mayor, I think, was to hit the history books and hang out in the Inn so that I'd be noticed, and people would talk to me.

Stein: Sounds like luck was on your side. What was it like being promoted to mayor out of the blue?

kkdestiny: felt exactly like you described it- out of the blue. At the same time though, there was a sense of excitement, and fun. As mayor, I felt like I would have a higher chance of being able to find things to do.

I have some experience trying to make my own cities before, and if there's one lesson to learn from all that failure, it's that those higher up always have something that they could be doing. There wasn't much of a sense of pressure, though, even though you might think so. After everything was left for about two years, I wasn't sure if my little bit of kicking around was going to be enough to get the heartbeat back in this place. But I was surprised to find that more and more old citizens seemed to noticed and come out of the woodworks to join me. So, I haven't regretted the choice yet.

Stein: Sometimes all things need is a good kicking, however, sometimes, more is needed. What have you done thus far to try and keep the “action” going?

kkdestiny: What I do is actually directly tied to what the citizens of the city do. At first, I was getting the action going by just making posts, while exploring the tools of the trade and trying to figure out how they work. Then I started going through the list of citizens and sent a message to the names that I recognised, as well as a handful of others based on their fable income, as that was a direct indicator of how long and how much work they had done in their time as a citizen.

Once I had more people, I cleaned up the streets and made sure to greet each person that visited the inn, pulling long hours of studying in the meantime. Then I contemplated, questioned, and argued with myself until I had what I thought was a working strategy and made my mayoral speech....via mass messenging system, which would reach the addresses of all registered citizens.

But, beyond that, I've been encouraging the people to chip in where they can, and have been continuing to engage the population in meaningful conversations as much as I could.

Stein: Seems like you're making yourself a real presence in the city. Good for you. Do you have any plans for the future of IF?

kkdestiny: Well, my plan is actually pretty simple...I think. I got activity up and running with everyone's collective help- it even went further (and faster) than I thought. ( we have an official Facebook now! )

Right now, I'm just streamlining things.

But after things are suffiently running smoothly, and it very nearly is, I'll work on one of the points of my speech- advertisement. I'm hoping by the end of my term, we'll start becoming a more well known destination and closer to what the King envisions for the future, because I think that sounds fun.

Stein: You've got your work cut out for you. I wish you the best of luck, and you can count on the IF Quirer to lend a hand with that advertisement business should you need it. Bringing things a little closer to home and heart now, can you tell me what you enjoy most about the city?

kkdestiny: Surprisingly....its not the stories, or the idearium, or inspira-corn. My favorite part of the City of IF is being in the Inn and watching people have fun conversations, and excitedly buzz about new storygames, or about their favorite characters and how precious they are or how delightfully evil they might be. Though, reading fun stories and throwing wrenches into the plot to cause interestng things to happen is a close second that I also really enjoy.

Stein: You seem to be a real people watcher there. Do you have anything you'd like to say to our readers?

kkdestiny: Thank you. Thank you very much for giving the revival of the city your time and energy, and I hope I can keep working with all of you as smoothly as it has been so far. Now please, go out and enjoy your new (or old) favorite storygames, and when I see you at the Inn next, I'll go ahead and give you 1 free drink of your choice.


And with that, Stein bowed his way out of the room, Rover at his heels as he scribbles down the last few noted from the interview, a faint smile on his face.

To Survive Divinity – Andolyn – 6
Trailing Turquoise – Novelest_Ninjagirl – 5
Memories of the Sea – themightyzan – 4
Worms of the Wasteland – Lebrenth – 3
One More Time – misterbiz – 3

Settling into first place in this revival race with six faves is To Survive Divinity by our local princess, Andolyn. Then, coming into second place with five faves, Trailing Turquoise by our blast from the past, Novelest_Ninjagirl. Coming in third is a newcomer themightyzan with their story Memories of the Sea, clocking in at four faves. Throwing in it's final chapter and coming in at fourth place is Worms of the Wasteland, three faves in it's pocket, written by long time IFian, Lebrenth. Then, bringing up the rear in fifth place with three faves as well is One More Time by our very own master of horror, misterbiz.

Welcome again to Poetry Corner. I hope you like your stay.

misterbiz – Escape and Eternity

The sky starts to bleed
As the dead start to cry
You're left here to suffer
Without a reason why
You pray to the heavens
But know they didn't hear
Are you able to hold together
In the face of your fear

You run and you try to fight
Lost in this forever night
You can't win, their numbers grow
You're the star in the devil's show
You want to leave but its way too late
This eternity you can never escape

You hear their bloody cries
Outside in the streets
You hide in the darkness
And prolong your defeat
You look to the heavens
Ask to just see the day
Because you know that in hell
You can never get away

You run and you try to fight
Lost in this forever night
You can't win, their numbers grow
You're the star in the devil's show
You want to leave but its way too late
This eternity you can never escape

The sky turns to flame
As you let out a cry
Wonder why you've been left
To suffer and to die
You curse at the the heavens
And do so without fear
You ask why they hate you
And why they left you here

You ran and tried to fight
But couldn't survive the night
Their numbers grew, but you can win
Because you'll go out with a grin
Eat a bullet before its too late
A monster eternity you will escape

crazybookgal – Inner Warfare

Wars are waged
With artillery and guns
But there are sharper swords
That slaughter our sons

We all have the personal
Demons we fight
The decisions we make
About wrong and right

Pressure is evident
As you climb to the peaks
If we do not give in
We are classified as freaks

Everything seems fine
But it’s all a disguise
You can see the truth
If only you look into her eyes

Ends come over the counter
These days
There are so many chances
Let me be strong, he prays

Desperate to be a victor
Farther into the war a person delves
But how can we win
If we are battling ourselves?

The exterior does not
Always reveal what is within
So suddenly it seems
It is the end-Fin

Some of the worst wars
Are the ones that we hide
The battles we fight
On the inside

Thunderbird – End of the Mundane

What can bring a sense of wonder,
To a life that's dull and bland?
What can tear the mundane asunder,
Fulfill our dreams across the land?

A pinch of this,
and a dab of that,
Ethereal mist,
and an eye of bat.

I'd trade away the normal life,
Let go of all reliable things,
Even though it might bring strife,
To cast a spell that gives me wings.

A pinch of this,
and a dab of that,
Boil root twists,
and a tail of rat.

To each the law would be our own,
With power to control our fate,
We'd only reap what we have sown,
Choose thee love or choose thee hate.

A pinch of this,
and a dab of that,
A dragon's fist,
the soul of a gnat.

Those who want for stable path,
Will rue the day I rise to power,
For ours would be the might of the Craft
In ignorance's final hour.

Andolyn – Crying for Strangers

Have you ever cried for a stranger?
Ever shed tears for someone you've only just met?
Have you ever had a broken heart for
One you might not ever see again?

Have you ever held a shaking hand?
Would you
Ever reach out and help them in spite of yourself?
Have you stood in the gap for someone
Instead of watching them fall into the crack?

There is One who wept for me.
There is One who gave Himself to save my soul.
He came to me when I was lost and all alone
So how could I not do the same for them?

Busy life and all confusion
Rushing around to meet the goals and dreams unmet
Do we see the pain of others
But turn away as if we can forget?

Spend a day crying for a stranger.
Take the time to slow yourself and experience it.
What if your tears and prayers are
What it takes to help them live again?

Submit your own poetry to PopeAlessandrosXVIII to get it published here in the IF Quirer!

A Letter to IF

From Novelest_Ninjagirl

This month, a letter appeared in the inbox here at the IF Quirer, written to the people of IF from one of our older returning members. She asked that it be delivered to the rest of IF for her and we here at the paper are always willing to oblige such an earnest request. So, here, for you're reading pleasure, is a message from the heart.


Dear If,

When I first met you, I was 13, lonely, and desperate for a place to go to write. I had just moved to a new place, and no one around me enjoyed literature. I thought all I would get would be a group of people to read my stories, and some stories I could read. I thought that I could get some stories written on the site, and when I eventually outgrew the site, it would be no more than a name dropped in the foreword of a famous novel.

I was wrong, in many ways. I don’t have that famous novel, let alone the foreword. I haven’t finished an sg, despite multiple stunted attempts. I haven’t outgrown If. Most importantly, I didn’t just find people to read my stories. I found friends, close, vital friends. People who, in private chats and just in the inn, consoled me when I cried that school wasn’t going well, walked me through the beginnings of teenagedom. I found people who lovingly teased me about things I’d never thought were odd, and I found people who praised things I’d done that I’d always thought were silly, or wrong. I found what I can say with total confidence, was family.

Without getting too in depth, I get depressed, and anxious, and pressured. Up until I found If, I never really had a place where I wasn’t being held up to some obnoxious standard. In the city, I’m just Noni. The loveable ninja who adores glomping people as greetings. There wasn’t any pressure, there was just an outpouring of love and affection.

Here, I can write, and people will read it and enjoy it, without pressuring me to immediately try to make a profession of it. Here, I can read, and be involved in the process, and watch as characters and places come to life before my eyes. It’s more than just a writing forum, it’s an interactive process, a living, breathing thing that feeds off all our creativity, our drive, our love for the words we all spill onto the screen. We feed it inspira-corn so that it might grow, we build it a home out of bricks of idearium, If is us, and yet, If is more than just our sums.

There are still people I see around the city that I’ve always considered family. There are people that, were it in my power, I would drop everything for. If has become so much more than a website to me, it truly is home. No matter how many times my laptop crashes, or my family couldn’t cover the internet bill, or my phone breaks, no matter how many calamities occurred, how many months passed where I couldn’t get to if, I always came back. And I was always welcomed.

To me, If is home. You’re all my family, and you’re all really, really important to me. I can say with some confidence that there have been times that I didn’t feel I belonged. Didn’t feel I mattered. I’m sure it’s unhealthy to place so much weight on a website, especially one that’s fallen before and may fall again, but I do. Here, I belong. Here, I matter. Here, you all matter. It doesn’t signify to me if I’ve known you since I was 13 or if you joined yesterday. You’re part of If, you’re part of my family, and you always will be.

Sincerely, Noni.

Short Story Competition Winner – Seraphi

This month the held a short story competition with a spooky theme and the honor bestowed upon the winner is a well earned place here in the IF Quirer where they will be immortalized! Now, for your enjoyment, this wonderful little short story by none other than our dearest Seraphi.


Arial does not like Halloween.

She has nothing against the people that celebrate it. In fact, she still carves pumpkins and decorate her porch with gauzy cotton to imitate spider webs, still buys candy to pass out to the neighborhood children and smiles when she opens the door to greet them.

But once the fun is done she returns to living in the remnants of a nightmare. On Halloween she can’t bear to eat, and the only way she sleeps is by taking a double dose of her allergy medication. She finds herself looking over her shoulder twice as often, checking that the locks to all her doors are firmly in place. And she never, ever goes near the basement. Even on normal days she avoids it. Afterall, that’s where…. She pauses, closing her eyes and holding her breath. It is best not to think of that now or she won’t get any sleep at all, medication or not.

Sighing, and checking the locks for what she is sure the tenth time that day, Arial readies herself for bed. When she is done slips under the covers, mumbles a quick prayer, then drifts slowly to sleep.


Laira lives for Halloween.

Or more like it is the only time she lives at all. It is a night of freedom that she can only experience once a year, and one that she takes full advantage of.

She wakes up smiling and stretching, excitement already pumping through her veins. After a quick shower she pulls on the black tube dress she keeps hidden in the back of her closet behind the baggy sweaters and ripped blue jeans. A bold swipe of color on her lips and she is ready to go.

The crisp night air makes her breath a ghostly white, and goosebumps prickle at her skin. She walks several blocks from her home until she reaches the bust stop and rides the blue line into downtown. She saunters through the streets until she comes across a worn down brick building that hosts a hole-in-the-wall club. The colors of the strobe lights bleed onto the street and the pulse of the music shakes the cement beneath her feet. This looks like as good a place as any, so Laira steps into the building and heads directly for the dance floor. She doesn’t need the alcohol the bar is offering; she wants to move, to writhe, to find someone that’s feeling as alive as she is.

It doesn’t take her long. There is a lovely number in a blue mini skirt and silver tube top who sways her hips like music was made just for her. One dance turns into several and Laira doesn’t bother to learn her name, it doesn’t matter, not when they are busy running their hands over each other on the bus as they travel back to Laira’s house. They make it as far as the sofa in the living room before they can’t wait anymore and they collapse in a flurry of limbs, clothes flying and breaths hot.

Later, they lie together, the air gone quiet except for their steadily returning breaths until a loud gurgling echoes through the room. The girl laughs.

“Was that your stomach?”

“Yeah. I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Let’s see what we can find,” the girl says as she gets up, sliding on her underwear and padding to the kitchen. Laira follows suit and watches as she rummages in the freezer. A sound of triumph escapes her when she finds a pizza. She sets the oven to heat and then turns around. “So now what do we do while we wait?”

Laira walks up to her. “You wanna hear a story?”

“Is it gonna be scary?” the girl asks in a mock spooky voice.

“It is Halloween, isn’t it?”

The girl nods and laughs and Laira takes this as leave to begin.

“Our story happens on this very night, ten years ago, in this very house. A simple family of three - a father, a mother, and a daughter - are tucked away in their beds, heads pillowed by dreams. But as they sleep a shadow slinks through the hallways.” As Laira says this she gets closer to the girl, grabs her hips and starts walking her slowly backwards.

“It calls to the parents with the sweetest of voices, lures them from their beds and into the kitchen, step by step by step until they stand before the open basement door. And then-” she pushes the girl backwards into the very basement door she speaks of, causing her to squeak in surprise “-it pushes them down the stairs.”

“Now the father, he breaks his neck, which is no fun at all. The mother, though, she just breaks her arm. She’s dizzy from the fall, but she stands quickly, tries to plead with the shadow.

“The shadow isn’t interested in listening. It already has a crowbar in it’s hands. It moves quickly towards the mother, swings out, breaks her knee cap. The mother collapse and the shadow does the same thing to the other leg, and then it keeps going, keeps flailing and smashing until there’s nothing left but pulp.

“The mother can’t move now, barely has enough struggle left to keep breathing, so the shadow throws the crowbar away and kneels next to her, breaths deeply the coppery tang of blood in the air, opens it’s mouth and-”

Laira dips her head down and bites the girl’s neck. The girl jumps and squeals and Laira laughs.

“Scary enough for you?”

The girl bats at her playfully, embarrassed by her reaction. After a few moments she asks, “Wait, what about the daughter? What happened to her?”

“Oh, her? She still lives here.”

“But you live here.” Her eyebrows draw down in confusion and then spring back up when it dawns on her.

“Wait are you saying---are you her?”

“I am. Kind of?“ Laira cocks her head to the side.

“What does that mean?” She laughs again. “You’re just trying to creep me out now. That story isn’t even real, right?”

Laira doesn’t answer


“Hm...who knows, maybe it is?”

The girl giggles skittishly, but her smile is gone. “Alright, alright, you definitely creeped me out. So stop joking. We should put the pizza in.” She tries to move, but Laira keeps her boxed in, crowds her against the door.

“I’m not really in the mood for frozen food anymore. I was thinking...something a little fresher,” she whispers as she reaches behind the girl, twisting the knob to open the basement door and pushing her.

The girl’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens in a wide ‘O.’ The scream does not come until her back hits the stairs. She tumbles to the bottom, groaning when she hits the concrete. When she tries to move she gasps and squeezes her eyes shut in pain.

“Wow, you hit it pretty hard,” Laira says as she pads down the stairs, “but I’m glad you didn’t die like my dad.” She tilts her head as she watches the girl try to crawl away using only the power of her arms. “Oh? Can’t you move your legs?”

Liara walks over and grabs the girl’s hair, drags her across the floor to one of the metal support beams of the house. She grabs zip ties from atop a table against the far wall, secures the girl’s arms and hands behind the pole. She returns to the table once more and comes back with a serrated knife that she flips lovingly between both hands. Straddling the girl’s useless legs, she sits on the floor and traces delicate patterns across her bare skin.

“Now this might hurt a bit, but pain is the other side of pleasure, or so they.” She licks her lips and begins to carve into the girl’s skin. The girl whimpers and moans, tries to free her arms, but her struggling is futile. Laira continues to saw at her skin, cuts off a strip from shoulder to shoulder along the collarbone. When she is done she drops the knife and holds the flesh in her palms, watches at the blood pools there and dyes them a deep red.

“What a lovely color,” she whispers as she brings the strip of flesh up to her mouth and takes a bite.


Arial awakes with a start, pain pinching her gut. She flings her covers to the side and sprints down the hallway, barely managing to make it to the bathroom before she voids the contents of her stomach. She coughs a little when she is done and rests her cheek on the coolness of the toilet seat, clumsily reaching up and flushing before the sight and smell makes her vomit again.

Always. It is always like this the morning after Halloween.

“Maybe...if I moved?” she mumbles to herself. It is a question she has posed to herself many times, but each time the answer is the same.


Despite the lingering trauma of her parents’ death, which she is sure has everything to do with her aversion to, and unfathomably upset stomach during, Halloween, something inside of her refuses to let her leave.

Arial sighs and, once she is sure her stomach will not revolt on her again, stands. She shuffles over to the sink, washes her face and brushes her teeth, and then heads downstairs to the kitchen. Out of habit she cautiously peers around the corner to make sure the basement door is shut, then she moves to the stove and puts the kettle on for tea. She leans against the countertop and rubs absentmindedly at her stomach until the kettle clicks, signaling that the water is done. She pours the steaming liquid into a cup over a teabag of rooibos and hibiscus, watches as the water turns a deep red. Her lips twist into a smile as she licks her lips and takes a sip.

Dave: Did you hear about the dog that went to the flea circus?

Jim: No, what happened?

Dave: He stole the show!


What has four legs and catches flies?

Two outfielders


Why did the goody-goody bring his computer to school?

Because he wanted to give an Apple to the teacher.


Ecology is everyone's problem. A friend of mine went to the doctor for water on the knee. When the doctor made tests, it turned out the water was polluted!


Girl Monster: Mommy, I hate my friend's guts!

Mommy Monster: Then leave them on the side of the plate and eat the rest of your dinner.

This month, the ad section is proud to bring you all active to relatively active Storygames to be found here in the city. Enjoy!

Fantasy Forest

Trailing Turquoise
The Freedom of Magic
Reunited or Torn Apart
To Survive Divinity
Mist in a Cave
Memories of the Sea
Fading Immortality


Slit and Slide

Manor of the Macabre

Smile for the Camera
Surviving Salvation
An Outbound Swell

Reality Road

One More Time
The Chance

By Gon

Here's a Happy IF Day to all those who joined in October

An Extra Special Happy IF Day to the first to join in an October 12 years ago:


An Extra Special Happy IF Day to the few who joined us during our second October 11 years ago:

Shady Stoat

Another Very Special Happy IF Day to the few who joined us 10 years ago:


A Very Happy IF Day to the few who joined us 8 years ago:


A Very Happy IF Day to the many who joined us 7 years back:

the thwacker
Tikanni Corazon

A Happy IF Day to those who joined us 6 years ago:

blood abuse
Super Ginger
Pashyn Lillie

A Happy IF Day to those who joined us 5 years ago:

Pheonix Blue

A Happy IF Day to those who joined us 4 years ago:


A happy IF Day to all of you and we hope you've had another great and fulfilling IF Day here in our fine city! See you around!

"China likes to be in control, and they've banned a lot of things in their day. In fact, when the Dalai Lama came out and said that he won't be reincarnating after he dies, China decided to ban that too. I'm not kidding. China said 'No, you can't not reincarnate. We won't let you.'" - KKDestiny's Eastern Philosophy teacher


This issue has been brought to you by the IF Quirer Team - Chief Editor~PopeAlessandrosXVIII, Reporters~Misterbiz, Seraphi, Emperor, and Tikanni Corazon. From all of us, thank you for reading, and to our contributors this month, thanks so much for your contributions!

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Honorable IFian

Joined: 12 Dec 2006
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PostPosted: Sat Oct 31, 2015 11:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well done Pope and the team!

Good to see this rag is still going. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Sun Nov 01, 2015 7:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

wonderful stuff everybody.

as always I loved the parade - but all the contributions were awesome
A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
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Joined: 09 Dec 2007
Topics: 13
Posts: 698
Location: The inn. Probably. Come check!



PostPosted: Sun Nov 01, 2015 8:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Really cool read guys! Can't wait to see the next one!
My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
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Topics: 56
Posts: 674
Location: The Library of Interfable History



PostPosted: Sun Nov 01, 2015 10:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yes, very nice to see this Smile

It's a good 'welcome back' issue, and the costumes are amazing as ever Smile
I now have three SGames! "Mist in a Cave" Chapter 5 is in the works

"The Freedom of Magic" Just got its THIRD chapter up!

Hope you all find the time to read them Very Happy *goes off to look for an SG to read*

Note to self: The Elven Moon; Coin; SVI; Black Animals; Two Wolves; Angel Cat
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PostPosted: Sun Nov 01, 2015 9:20 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I can't wait for the next issue! This was actually the first one I've read, but man. . . I was really missing out!
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Tikanni Corazon
Honored Citizen

Joined: 25 Oct 2009
Topics: 75
Posts: 1286
Location: Running through the plains of my mind, my wolf spirit at my side (but doing so in the UK!).



PostPosted: Mon Nov 02, 2015 5:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good issue, Pope! Very well done, and welcome back to the IFQuirer!

...Can't believe it's been 7 years since I first found this place...
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887

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Joined: 25 Oct 2012
Topics: 2
Posts: 503
Location: Penna, having a hot cup of tea



PostPosted: Tue Nov 03, 2015 4:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nicely done, everyone!

I look forward to the next issue Smile
"The aim of literary ambition is to demonstrate one's greatness of soul."
-Mason Cooley
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Location: Deep within the music of the night



PostPosted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 4:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

*gasps* My costume was spooky!
And yes, excellent job. I'm really glad to see it back up and running. And Noni, I was incredibly touched by your letter, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one. Much love.
I've been pulled back from oblivion to lurk about the City once more. Though the music of the night always beckons...

Here's some stuff I started writing a long time ago. Orb. Nexus.
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