From the Pen of Kaas

Sime~Gen Fan Fiction and Artwork by Kaas Baichtal

"There is something sacred... no, sensual... about handling a newly-changed over channel. There is the sense, almost overpowering, that in your hands lies the seed that will grow into just about anything! Why, in that helpless child, there could be the next World Controller. So were we all, in the brief flashing moments before the knives of disillusionment carved us down." -- Topal Jerdan

Vale of Tears
"Garlen teaches that the world will not know peace until parent does not fear child and child does not fear parent. Therefore we must go forth and take the place between them. For salvation lies not in preaching, but in physical and spiritual self-sacrifice." -- Excerpt from the book of Garlenist teachings.

"They say the guilt eats at you. They say that month after month of receiving life through channels, rather than Killing, makes you weakened, until finally in remorse and self-loathing you cannot bear to take the single Kill per year that makes it possible to remain alive." -- Unknown semi-junct.

Doves + Wolves
"Like the dove, heaven sent, I bear a message greater than myself. And upon its delivery, so will my soul find its deliverance." -- Excerpt from the book of Garlenist teachings.

"It would be different," Chaz had said once, "if the servants were loyal enough to give their lives for our parents."

"I needed big crowds. I wanted to get pushed down the sidewalks like one cow in a million head of cattle." -- Unknown Gen.

Simelan is a difficult language to learn, subtle and detailed with as many arcane caste-variations as there are larities and age groups to speak them. Conspicuously missing is a phrase which, when spoken by a Second Order Donor, is the equivalent to the Genlan "I quit".

Mid-morning, the sun tips over the mountains and smites the desert with a glaring heat. On any other day the town would be a blight, the double-row of weathered buildings incongruous as a pimple against the foothills and the sage-dotted landscape. Now, with the lurid colors of the circus tent sprouted overnight beside it, the town is reduced to background.


I Need You

One Hundred Days of Hunting
"They took me to a small room to wait. I was all alone. I couldn't sit down, I was so pumped up. Finally he came in. He was wearing a disposable gown over his uniform and a mask hung around his neck. He looked tired, and sweaty. He zlinned distracted. His hands and forearms had been freshly scrubbed and as he took the package from me, his damp skin sent a jolt through me like an electric spark." -- Excerpt from the diary of a stalker.

The Mystery
The police officer fixed him with a half-lidded stare that compressed years of weary patience into several poignant seconds. "Somebody stole your selyn and you felt nothing," he repeated, deadpan. "Well how could I?" retorted Jogn. "I'm only a GN-3, I never feel selyn movement."

Critiques of The Mystery
"I have one question: Army Green or Baby Diarrhea Green?" -- M. Petrino

Portrait of Riyyh, Sectuib in Naros
Portrait of Wise Snake
The Little Secret I'm Sorry Mother
Cross and Dagger "Bookends"
Copper Sculptures
Webring Logo Webring Logo
Angel of Attrition
The Touch Permitted First Need Sime from Gen Divided
Self-Portrait of the Artist as a Sime

All work on this page is © by Kaas Baichtal with all rights reserved.

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