chosen_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 17:01:55 2022-12-31 14:34:19 | rejected_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 14:23:36 2022-12-31 12:20:41 | score_chosen int64 14 23.1k | score_rejected int64 10 4.26k | chosen listlengths 2 2 | rejected listlengths 2 2 |
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2022-12-19T15:35:15 | 2022-12-19T10:57:36 | 102 | 50 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Because humans are master liars, the dystopia ruled by alien overlords had permanent lie-detecting collars put on all the Earthlings. However, the aliens didn't count on sarcasm, metaphors or incomplete truths.",
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"content": "“Look, I didn’t say that I killed her, just that she pissed me off.”\n\nThe alien interrogating me frowned. “We know that you killed the girl. You know you killed the girl.”\n\n“Well, the lie detector disagrees, clearly,” I snarked, “but go ahead and ignore it if you feel like it.”\n\nSeemed the machine didn’t account for half-truths. A shame. But it brought another thought to mind.\n\nWhat else made it fail? Sarcasm? Metaphor?\n\nThose were questions I’d find the answer to, soon enough, but for now, I just wanted to revel in the moment.\n\n“Honestly, if I was the one that invented it, I’d be pretty peeved that you trust it that little.”\n\n“It’s just malfunctioning,” he asserted. “I’ll bring another one, and then we’ll see just how confident you’ll be then.”\n\nHe got up, clearly bothered and trying desperately to hide it. I couldn’t help but scoff at his mettle.\n\n“Oh, by all means, test my confidence,” I sat back, hands still very much cuffed. “But I’ll warn you.”\n\n“Hm?” He turned.\n\n“Don’t be so sure that machine’s broken.”",
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{
"content": "[WP] Because humans are master liars, the dystopia ruled by alien overlords had permanent lie-detecting collars put on all the Earthlings. However, the aliens didn't count on sarcasm, metaphors or incomplete truths.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Many would say that having an united, completly illness free world as the largest victory for all of humankind, well lets just say that such victory was first, not brought by mankind and second.\n\nIt is fucking annoying, the split face or whatever non-xeno name they wanted to put in place invaded earth, not that we didnt fight back but their EMP fields, we only had rifles against seemingly impenetrable armor and tanks, so it was logical that we lost in barely a month.\n\nIn the flip side, humanity didnt suffer many losses since there was no real reason as to kill usable work force.\n\nBut now ?\nWell, since these things thought that we were somehow 'the best liar in the galaxy' , they started putting these neck implent to all human, now each time we say a lie, for exemple \"No, I didnt fuck with your cousin Cassidy.\" or \"I'm gonna buy milk and some cigarettes and I'll be there in 10 minutes.\", there is a beep along with them taking 5 bucks from our bank account.\nNow it wouldnt be much of a problem if it wasnt the fact most of the human language is literally made up of half truth or jokes that uses lies as their core component.\n\nAll of this caused revolutions everywhere on Earth since people get taxed sometimes for hundreds if not thousands of credit.\n\nNowadays, humans live without such implents but still.\nAll because of a joke...",
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] |
2013-11-02T05:15:25 | 2013-11-02T05:13:16 | 140 | 89 | [
{
"content": "[WP]: A famous religious leader enters the afterlife. It turns out their religion wasn't the right one.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Joseph Smith looked at the man with the horned helmet standing in his way. He had passed the rainbow bridge into the Nordic afterlife.\n\n\"I knew I made most of it up, but at least I was Christian!\" He stammered out.\n\nHeimdall looked at him angrily. \"Smith. For not being an honest man, and for cheating others of their wives and money, instead of taking them like a true Viking, you will be sent to Hel for your punishments.\"\n\nJoseph looked devastated. He looked around him, at the rainbow bridge. \"So, do only believers of the Nordic gods get accepted?\"\n\nHeimdall spat at Smith's feet. \"Anybody who isn't a prick gets in.\"\n\nWith that, Heimdall threw Joseph off of the rainbow bridge into the pit of eternal despair, the mighty Hel ripping his soul apart with eternal torment.",
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{
"content": "[WP]: A famous religious leader enters the afterlife. It turns out their religion wasn't the right one.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"What? But I'm the pope. As in like, the holiest guy this side of Heaven. Well, the other side now I guess. You catch my drift,\" the pope pleaded to the gatekeeper.\n\n\"Sorry bud, but you were supposed to listen to Terry Frederickson, the pot-smoking polygamist cult leader in rural Queensland, Australia who claimed his beard was the 18th reincarnation of Jesus' beard,\" the gatekeeper explained, informing the pope of his rather silly mistake.\n\n\"Now that's some shit, gatekeeper. I never even heard of Terry Frederickson or his beard.\"\n\n\"Ignorance isn't bliss, buddy. It's hot and fiery and Satan licks your ear while you suffer. Ignorance is literally Hell.\"\n\nAnd so, the pope descended to Hell, preparing to have his personal space invaded by Satan who was a notoriously heavy mouth breather, all the while regretting not becoming a member of the Church of the Wiggity Spriggity 18th Beard'o'Jesus.",
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] |
2014-01-02T11:25:18 | 2014-01-02T10:14:07 | 14 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Three friends. Four AM. No dialogue",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Nothing good happens after 2 a.m. That's what my mom always told me anyways. But how do you say no to the hottest friend you have inviting you to come over to make juice.\n\nI mean...she is in Germany...\n\nNo-no-no. I can't be that guy. I don't cheat.\n\nI mean...she should've called me right?\n\nMaybe she had class?\n\nI caught myself thinking, \"Fuck her, she should've called,\" as I opened the door to the taxi and sat down in the backseat. \n\nWhat the fuck do you say to a taxi driver at 4 in the morning. I just stared blankly out the window, imagining all the different ways this could go down. \n\nI'd just break up with her tomorrow. Not a problem. Not a big deal right? Yeah, not a big deal. \n\nAs I got out of the taxi, I noticed the bottle in his hand. Well, fuck, should've left earlier.\n\nI walked up the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door. She was wearing her pajamas, but damn, she looked good. There were no words exchanged. She just pointed to a bottle of wine and I could not bring myself to do anything but nod. I spotted her stereo system and found my favorite Otis song. I turned it on to let the music decide where this night would end up. As she brought me my wine, I brought her in closer, still speechless of how flawless this girl was. \n\nWe danced silently, and I had forgotten all of Victoria back in Germany.\n\nBut there she was again. I suddenly remembered, but caught myself before I could stir a panic. \n\nRobin knew I was taken. She knew....right? Unless she...unless she assumed when I talked to her earlier that day, that I had broken up with Victoria.\n\nEither way I couldn't break up the moment. She would not be ecstatic to know that I came here still a taken man. \n\nThat was it. I had to call her. Or do something.\n\nI slowly put my hand up motioning for her hold on. The music still was going on which kept the mood even. I rushed to the bathroom and washed my face. No way. No way. No way. I couldn't be that guy. I could not be that guy. I took out my phone to call her, but it ended up on top of the sink, open and waiting to be dialed. I grabbed the sink with both my hands and breathed deeply. With one final sigh, I grabbed the phone to call, but realized...this wasn't my phone.\n\nI stepped outside to find my cellphone open on the table, music off, and Robin nowhere to be found. I looked at my cellphone and saw that it read, \"Missed Call: Victoria\". \n\nRobin knew. She was probably furious and unwilling to talk.\n\nI couldn't even bring myself to call Victoria.\n\nI knew it was over.\n\nThree friends. Four AM. And no words could save me from this situation.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Three friends. Four AM. No dialogue",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "-002\n\nThe girl in the room is crying. I’m on the floor. I can’t sleep. Jack’s asleep on the other bed, the one Jane’s not sleeping on. I just stare at the ceiling. It’s a wonderful nothing, I guess. Songs I haven’t listened to in three or four hours keep playing in my head. I would listen to music but my music player thing is out of battery. I’m out of battery, it seems. I’m so tired all the time. So bored. Bored because I want something to happen, but I’m too lazy to actually do anything about it. I’m in charge of my life and it only takes one little action to change it forever. Then I wouldn’t be bored any longer. All about me. Huh. It’s all about me.\n\nI get up, and stretch. I yawn and rub my eyes, and look outside. My God, it’s beautiful. I should just go outside. Jane is still crying, only they’re soft sobs. I know I should go over and comfort her, or something. I’ve been friend’s with her for awhile. I’ve also been friends with Jack. It’s funny. I always feel like I’m alone all the time when there are people all around me.\n\nI check my phone. No messages or anything, why should there be? It’s four in the morning, and nothing is happening. The world is still. I go outside onto the pavement and look up at the sky. Jack’s house isn’t in the city or in a town so it’s easy to see the stars burning bright. It is euphoric, in a way. I find comfort in the smallest things, and I think that’s all I want, really. Comfort. Peaceful moments. Repeated things.\n\nI hear the sliding door open and close quietly. Jane sits near me. I look at her and smile, a melancholy half smile, and I say nothing. I think it’s because I don’t have anything to say. All I do is touch her shoulder, and she closes her eyes. I take my hand off her shoulder and cross mine. Maybe that’s all it will take, is one little movement.\n\nThe door opens and closes again. Jack walks up to Jane, places both of his hands on her shoulders, and they kiss, a long, romantic movie kiss. Under the stars. All I can do now is look up at the stars. They seem to beckon to me. They tell me to do something.\n\nOne day I will. One day I will. I know I will. I have to be somewhat substantial. I’ll finally write something. I’ll finally act in something. Do something. I must do something. \n\nAll I feel is love, but all I hear is nothing. \n\nI sigh, and look at the sky before going back inside. I may be looking for a god up there, somewhere. What I’d do to try again, but what’s the point when all this is just meaningless?\n\nAt least I’ve come to terms with that.",
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] |
2014-01-11T09:01:50 | 2014-01-11T04:50:35 | 39 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write a section of legal code governing the use of magic.\n\nI've got a new project kicking around in my head, and before I dig into the characters, I wanted to try a little world-building. In order to keep my little army of unwritten mages in line, I decided to whip up some laws. Yes, it's a prep work prompt, but prep work is so handy for big projects...",
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"content": "**Section V: On the use of Magick in combat in the Grand Duchy of Aldritch**\n\nArticle A\n\n1. As specified in Section I, the use of Demonology and the summoning of beings from outside the prime plane of existence are strictly forbidden under pain of torture and death.\n\n2. As specified in Section I, Low Necromancy and its associated arts are restricted to trained and licensed Necromancers. High Necromancy is strictly forbidden under pain of torture and death.\n\n3. Use of Magick in combat is to further one of these ends and is restricted to Journeyman Mage-Knights and above:\n\n i. Defense of the realm, its nobility, and its subjects.\n\n ii. Self-defense\n\n iii. The elimination of a possible, magically-natured threat to the realm.\n\n iv. In the service of the realm in times of war, which must be at the behest of a Master Mage-Knight or one of the members of the Council of High Arcana.\n\n4. Magick is to be used with the most extreme regard for the lives of the subjects of the realm. Flagrant abuse of Magick as specified in Section I, even in battle, will result in punishment as seen fit for the members of the Council of High Arcana.\n\n5. No noble, knight, or councilman outside of the Mage-Knight Guild can compel a Mage-Knight to use magic through authority, except for the Grand Duke or Duchess as the title applies.\n\n6. As outlined in Section I, a Mage-Knight's first allegiance is to the realm, the Grand Duchy of Aldritch, and its people. Their second loyalty is to the Mage-Knight's Guild. Their third loyalty is to the Grand Duke or Duchess.\n\nedited: Had to switch computers to finish.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Write a section of legal code governing the use of magic.\n\nI've got a new project kicking around in my head, and before I dig into the characters, I wanted to try a little world-building. In order to keep my little army of unwritten mages in line, I decided to whip up some laws. Yes, it's a prep work prompt, but prep work is so handy for big projects...",
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"content": "**Illusory Magic and the Restrictions on its Usage**\n\nDefined as the alteration of perception with the intent to present reality in a state that differs from physical truth. Whereas transmutative magic alters the physical world directly, often with lasting effect, illusory mages (in common usage, illusionists) overwrite perceived stimuli without altering the source in any permanent fashion. While the most common illusions are visual and auditory, skilled illusory mages can create gustatory, tactile, and olfactory illusions as well.\n\n*Restrictions*\n\n1. No person shall practice any form of illusory magic without being a member of the Illusionist's Guild.\n\t\n a) Children below the age of apprenticeship who violate this restriction are not subject to \t\tpunishment: they, or their guardians as deemed appropriate, will be given the choice of temporary binding and admittance to the Guild upon reaching the age of apprenticeship, or permanent binding (see Binding, section xx.xx).\n\t\n b) Adult mages belonging to other Guilds of magic will be subject to punishment under their own Guild charters. Depending on the severity and circumstances of the offense, this may result in being remanded to the jurisdiction of sovereign law.\n\t\n c) Adult mages without declared affiliation to a Guild who are discovered to be practicing any form of magic will be subject to permanent binding and punishment under sovereign law.\n\n2. Guild members are free to practice in accordance with the rules stipulated in the Guild charter, provided that no condoned act of magic is used in the process of violating sovereign law.\n\t\n a) Guild members violating Guild law only will remain under the Guild's aegis for the purposes of trial and punishment.\n\t\n b) Guild members violating sovereign law with the use of magic will be remanded to sovereign jurisdiction and will be subject to the temporary binding of powers until and during trial.",
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] |
2014-02-13T22:34:39 | 2014-02-13T22:00:47 | 26 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[FF] Make me feel heartbroken in 4 sentences or less.",
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{
"content": "His back legs kicked frantically, and he whimpered softly in pain.\n\nI took his outstretched paw with one hand and loaded another bullet.\n\nHis eyes were dimming quickly, but he gazed through me with a look of betrayal.\n\n\"I'm coming too, boy\" I smiled, and drew the barrel to my temple and closed my eyes.\n\n",
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{
"content": "[FF] Make me feel heartbroken in 4 sentences or less.",
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"content": "\"Goodbye kids,\" said Dad. \"I'm off for my first day as a police officer.\"\n\nEight hours later, there was a knock on the door, and the kids yelled, \"Daddy's home!\". Mom opened the door to see a policeman, his hat held to his chest, who said, \"A-Are you Mrs. Philips?\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2014-03-02T16:47:38 | 2014-03-02T16:46:38 | 44 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Adolf Hitler is a time traveler who starts world war two to save us from something far more terrible.",
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{
"content": "Disclaimer: What I am about to write is only a story. All views expressed are those of the characters alone.\n\n\"Do you understand the mission?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Then repeat it. Who is your first target?\"\n\n\"A Austrian boy, age 12, by the name of Adolf Hitler.\"\n\n\"And what are you to do when you find him?\"\n\n\"I am to kill him, by any means necessary, and assume his identity.\"\n\n\"And then?\"\n\n\"I am to fight in the Great War, build a political movement, seize control of the German-speaking world and then...then...\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"Sir...do I have to do this? I don't think I can. I mean, so many people, so many innocents...I can't I just...\"\n\n\"Yohannes, you must. You are our last hope. You are the only one who can operate the device, the only one who has a proper target. We cannot defeat the Neo-Khazarians. We never could. 9 billion people have died, Earth itself has been left sterile and dead, blackened by their flames. This sacrifice is tiny compared to what has happened. We must destroy them from the start. President Abraham must never create his empire, and for that to happen he has to never have been born. You have to kill his ancestors. As many potential ancestors as you can. You must.\"\n\n\"I...I understand. I must do my duty. To God and to country. For my people.\"\n\n\"Good my boy. They will hate you. They will curse you as the greatest evil to ever visit the Earth. And if all goes well, none will ever know your true purpose. But know that, in this moment, I could not be more proud of you. They are coming. Godspeed, Yohannes.\"\n\n\"Thank you sir.\" Yohannes gave the salute of the ancient Romans, his hand extended straight out and up to the sky, then turned and entered his craft. He sailed through the endless ocean of stars, towards that charred coal that was once the cradle of all of humanity. He cried for those he would kill, but in his heart he had hope that he could save so many more.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Adolf Hitler is a time traveler who starts world war two to save us from something far more terrible.",
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{
"content": "\"Press it\" commanded Adolf.\n\nWith one press of a button Adolf travelled back in time, saw his family fade right before his eyes piece by piece. He would want to keep this memory - this final glimpse of his two kids and wife.\n\nHow far back did he travel? He did not know. Where he came from they had no use for time, no sense in keeping any record of it. For all intents and purposes they were immortal, and time was a thing kept by their ancestors.\n\nHis name wasn't even Adolf. No sense in telling you the real name of this hero now I suppose.\n\nHowever, Adolf was leaving his family and his world for a reason. You see, a certain savage man used rogue technology to travel back in time somewhere between the 1930s and 40s, to disrupt the timeline by building a bomb that would kill much more than the population of one planet.\n\nWe do not know the name this serpent has taken, what year exactly he transported to or even why he is doing it. Up until now he has remained elusive, but we finally got a lead. He has claimed to be of Jewish heritage and transported somewhere in the German region. Possibly even outside of it.\n\nOur only hope is to eliminate as many possible suspects as possible. To do this Adolf will travel back in time, hide his namesakes body who committed suicide after his mom died and take over his life. He will have to climb to power and become a monster.\n\nNo, more than a monster. He will have to become what we despise most in our society - a taker of life. When one becomes as old as us, older than the stars themselves, one does not take a life. Any life.\n\nOf our mission, nothing is certain except one thing: Adolf cannot, and will not be able to travel back. His family does not know this yet, but when the time comes he will be alone. With his immortality taken, he will die.\n\nHis wife, whom he has seen stars fall and rise with, will not be there.\n\nHis son, whom he has traveled the universe with, will not be there.\n\nHis daughter, whom with he has shown the wonders of the universe to, will not be there.\n\nNo one will be there to join this hero on his journey to seek a great perhaps.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2014-04-09T12:52:48 | 2014-04-09T12:52:07 | 17 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Rifles and Sorcery. A modern army is stuck on in an alternate reality where sorcery rules. The army is preparing to defend themselves form a far superior force that has never seen a machine gun or artillery.\n\nBoth sides would be intresting. The modern army dealing with magic users and the senseless slaughter of conscripted pikemen, and the superior manned military dealing with technology and bombs and the smell of sulfur and horror of modern warfare.",
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"content": "That idiot Davis said this would be a cakewalk. He actually produced a ratty old copy of a Dragons and Dungeons handbook as if that mattered. \"Second Edition\" I remember him saying, like it made a god damned bit of difference. \n\nI don't know where we are and I don't know how we got here. I'm paid to shoot people, not assess strategic objectives or whatever-the-fuck the pencil necked paper pushers at the Pentagon call it. I'd rather look at my enemy through a scope than binoculars, know what I'm saying?\n\nAnyhow, Davis says they're \"mages\" or some nerd shit like that. Says they fight with magic. Fireballs, lightning bolts, Renaissance Fair asshattery 'n' stuff. Says we can roll right over 'em. The M1 Abrams carries a couple tons of ceramic, steel, kevlar, and composite armor, he said. It's like sitting behind two feet of solid steel, he said.\n\nSecond Edition my ass.\n\nI didn't see a single fireball or magic missile or any of the other Harry Potter bullshit Davis kept shooting his fucking mouth off about. You know what I did see?\n\nGods. Motherfuckin Gods.\n\nHave you ever seen a tank gunner put an AP round into the back of his own turret? Seen a crew roast alive as the armor melted off like wax? I only got out of my hatch because the tree that ate my ride and my crew did it from the treads up. A god damned tree ate my tank. \n\nHow do you fight trees? Or age? I saw a APC abandoned by a crew of grey beards, men frozen solid, helicopters with blades made out of silk instead of metal and a million other things even weirder than that. \n\nI'm done. I'm not going back out there. Not for you and certainly not for Davis. YOU HEAR THAT DAVIS? I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU FUCKING SCREAMING! \n\nI hope he takes a long god damned time to die. ",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Rifles and Sorcery. A modern army is stuck on in an alternate reality where sorcery rules. The army is preparing to defend themselves form a far superior force that has never seen a machine gun or artillery.\n\nBoth sides would be intresting. The modern army dealing with magic users and the senseless slaughter of conscripted pikemen, and the superior manned military dealing with technology and bombs and the smell of sulfur and horror of modern warfare.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "It's been a span since the Devourer opened that gate way. The shimmering dome of light faced over the desolate sands of Ashram desert and it was vast as a city dwarfing the jagged peaks that dot the landscape. Lord Aarongal and his lieutenant sat under dyed canvas tarp to conceal them selves among rocky mounds that scatter the desert.\n\nThe last few hours have turned up some interesting developments. For the first few days the Devourer's hordes crossed through the shimmering dome of light in mass. A legion of demons and dark mounted knights crossed over to another world looking for the seat of creation. However the flood of twisted figures ceased and during the last day the invasion all but stopped and the Devourer's minions even began to retreat back through the portal.\n\nLord Aarongal, scratched his growing beard when he noticed a commotion erupting on the far side of the portal. A large thunder clap fallowed by smoke billowing over the glassy dome. Aarongal could not see what is happening as the portal obstructed his view.\n\nThe noble raised his spyglass up to his eye hoping to find some inclination to what is happening around the portal.\n\nThe dark army swarmed as if someone kicked over an ant mount as more explosions erupted around the portal. Realization dawned on him that the explosions were originating from the other side of the gate way.\n\nWhat ever word they have invaded, the inhabitants were fighting back and seemed to be winning. \n\nThe dome began to ripple as large metal chariots began to chase the invaders back out through the portal. Large metal beasts with mouths like water pipes that spew hell fire and brimstone, smaller ones with men mounted on top letting loud invisible arrows hail on the devour's army.\n\nMen shortly followed, carrying black stubby spears that kill with invisible arrows, they wore tan cloth armor that smudged their forms against the desert sands. The air began to smell of sulfur, and the parched sands darken as it drank spilled demon blood.\n\nAarongal felt fear that his enemy cursed the world with a scourge worse than itself.\n\n(forgive me, this was written on a shitty tablet, and this the best I can do. After reading some great stories posted here, I wanted contribute.)",
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2014-05-18T13:25:23 | 2014-05-18T13:20:48 | 48 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A teleportation ability that burns as many calories as it would've taken to sprint the distance teleported",
"role": "user"
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"content": "\"Alright, test number one!\"\n\nThe entire facility was gathered around John as he put on the ridiculous looking headset.\n\n\"Is it going to work?\" asked Lisa as she turned to John.\n\n\"We can't be for certain, but we've got to try. Imagine what this could do for exercise! This will be revolutionary.\"\n\n\"For exercise? What do you mean?\" questioned Paul as he shifted his footing and raised his eyebrows.\n\n\"Oh, it's quite simple. The machine uses the same number of calories to move you as it would take to run. So I will attempt to teleport myself into the other room. Once it's all said and done, I will have moved 10 ft.\"\n\nPaul screamed and ran out to try and stop him, but it was too late. John had disappeared. When Paul, followed by the others all in pursuit, went into the after mentioned room they found John lying on the floor. His skin was removed and all that was there was the remains of his skeleton.\n\n\"Oh my god! What happened?\" Screamed Lisa.\n\n\"The Earth! It moves through space. He had to try and keep up with it. I don't know what he was thinking. Anyone that comes up with an idea like that is out of their mind!\"",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] A teleportation ability that burns as many calories as it would've taken to sprint the distance teleported",
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"content": "Asher wipes the tears from his face and pushes himself up while placing pillows to prop himself up. Today's the day. The day he finally does it. After years of fad diets, diet pills, surgery consultations, and yo-yo weight loss, he's finally going to lose it all. \n\nA pill. A single pill in the palm of his hand. A decade ago, the entire world was on the verge of collapse because of bacterial immunity to antibiotics. Now, he has the power to hack his genetic code in the palm of his hand. \n\nIt takes the average human being 3500 calories to lose one pound. This pill will alter his genetic code giving him the ability to teleport himself instantly to any location but it will be the caloric equivalent of running there. At 450lbs, he burns 4500 calories per hour at 12mph. That means he'll have to teleport himself roughly 150 miles away to lose all the weight. Asher lives in Saint Cloud so he's chosen to teleport to Rochester. \n\nHis friends all say it's insane; that weight loss doesn't work that way and he's going to kill himself. \n\nAsher smacks the hand with the pill against his mouth, leans his head back, swallow and disappears.",
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2014-06-05T12:45:55 | 2014-06-05T12:24:31 | 30 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You get married, but find out that your husband/wife is death.\n\nInspired by...\n\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/27dnnu/wp_a_lonely_teenage_boy_asks_a_genie_to_let_him/chzw3rw",
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{
"content": "\"I don't understand, you're an accounts administrator. You're always complaining about how boring it is.\"\n\nShe blinked and re-adjusted the collar of her blouse. \"Well technically, that is true. I handle the accounts of the universe. Have you never heard the phrase 'cashing in'?\"\n\n\"How long were you planning on keeping this from me? If I hadn't found the book would you still be lying to me?\" I looked down at my hands, I was still gripping her ledger of the damned. My finger tips white from gripping it so hard.\n\n\"And how was I supposed to do that? Do you know how crazy that sounds? 'Hi I'm Death, wanna grab some coffee? Who knows maybe further down the line get married?'. You have to understand, this is hard for me too. Do you have any idea what it is like to go an eternity only witnessing love as an observer, never truly understanding it and then suddenly being overcome with it. I would do anything to hold on to this, so yes I bent the truth slightly.\"\n\n\"SLIGHTLY!? You are one of the four horsemen of the bloody apocalypse. Saying you're an artist when you haven't sold a painting and are working in a coffee shop is bending the truth slightly, this.... Jesus. Jess, this is....\" \n\nLooking at me with those soft eyes I'd woken up to everyday for the last five years, \"Wrong.\" She finished the sentence for me, and reached towards my hands. Tenderly she loosened my grip from around the leather bound book that had started this, kissed me on the forehead and walked out the door. ",
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"content": "[WP] You get married, but find out that your husband/wife is death.\n\nInspired by...\n\nhttp://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/27dnnu/wp_a_lonely_teenage_boy_asks_a_genie_to_let_him/chzw3rw",
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{
"content": "At first, she seemed like any other ordinary woman. But over time, piece by piece, I learned her true identity. They started off as small hints, but quickly progressed to become extreme miracles. Eventually, it came to the point where people would drop dead moments after they angered her. My boss hit me across the face for handing in work too late. He gets found dead, hung by his spinal chord. Our neighbors stayed up one night with their music very loud. The next morning they were all found dead. The mailman delivers the post late. Dead. Waiter spills the coffee. Dead. It happened just too many times to be a coincidence.\n\nAt that point, I knew without a glimmer of a doubt that she was not of this world. That there was something... supernatural about her. I couldn't quite place my finger on it. It was always there, though. Always at the back of my head -- wondering... waiting to see what would happen to me. What would happen if I angered her? Would I end up dead too? \n\nShe had killed so many people now... and without any guilt. She was like a child. Except... not really. She knew exactly what she was doing and she had no regrets about it. No regrets about all the people who's lives had abruptly been ended. And she might just end mine too.\n\nBut while I fear for my life, my greatest fear is for my death. When the time comes, will she take me? Or will I be left to suffer on this world, like a living corpse? A lifeless soul, bound by Death to be tormented through the rest of history in this place.\n\nFear. Fear is the only word with which to describe my current life. She is a monster. She is a murderer.... \n\n\n\n\nAnd yet I love her.",
"role": "assistant"
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2015-01-09T11:13:29 | 2015-01-09T08:35:31 | 22 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write something dark, macabre and bleak but with a hopeful ending. Not all out happy ending, just slightly optimistic.\n\nThink of a single flower sprouting in a desolate, war torn city type deal. It's not a triumphant ending, but a faint hint at better things to come.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "She screams in the hospital bed, body contorting as the pains shudder through her again. Nurses scramble around the room, the doctor issues orders while the rest do his bidding. Everything was normal, just three minutes ago. The rate in which it changed is what disturbs him most.\n\n\"What's going on, Doc?\" he asks. The doctor looks at him, giving him a calculating and worried look that rattles him to his core. He then looks back at the man's wife. \n\n\"There's been a rupture,\" he said. He looks down at his wife and grips hand. She looks at him, eyes wide and desperate. Like a wounded animal. \n\nThen they flutter back behind their eyelids and she goes slack. \n\n\"DOCTOR!\" he shouts, \"What's going on?! SHE NOT MOVING.\"\n\nThe doctor ignores him, \"Check for -\" he begins when the EKG machine next to him flatlines. \n\n\"WHAT IS - \" he begins, when the doctor pushes him aside. He begins applying compressions on his wife's chest. \n\n\"We'll have to cut him out,\" he shouts to the nurses. \"Melinda, continue compressions. I'm going to finish what we started.\"\n\nHe can't do anything. He stands stupidly next to his wife, as the medical staff continues their work. He wants to reach out to her, to *slap* her across the face and wake her up; to shake her. To *scream* at her. What was she doing? What was he going to do?! \n\n*And why are they continuing?! Can't they see she's dying?!* He grits his teeth and moves forward, eyes blazed in a fury, ready to shake some sense into the medical staff and tell them to save his wife. To bring her back. *SHE'S DYING. ARE THEY BLIND?!*\n\nSomeone grabs his arm, \"Sir, they need some space. Your family is in good hands.\" She tells him. When he isn't convinced, she adds, \"There's nothing you can do now.\"\n\nAnd so he watches. Watches as the doctor works, while the nurse named Melinda continues CPR. His wife lay upon the bed, head turned towards him, arm hanging off the side like she's in a deep sleep.\n\n\"Almost there,\" the doctor says. \"Yes, yes, here he is.\"\n\nA new sound is added to the cacophony of noise in the room. The ear piercing noise of a squalling babe. He can no longer hear the horrifying sound of the EKG machine flatlining, or the voice of the doctor as he issues orders to the nurses and moves to his wife. All he can hear is the sound of the boy. *His boy.* \n\nThe doctor issues a stop order with his hand, and ushers the nurses away from the still motionless body of his wife. She's gone. *I am alone,* he thinks at first then a nurse comes to him, and hands him his child. His final and perpetual reminder of his lovely wife. He holds him, alone and afraid regarding him with love. And pity, for he shall never know the warmth of his mother's love.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Write something dark, macabre and bleak but with a hopeful ending. Not all out happy ending, just slightly optimistic.\n\nThink of a single flower sprouting in a desolate, war torn city type deal. It's not a triumphant ending, but a faint hint at better things to come.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "The motorcycle roared down the highway like an untamed beast. I wove in between the old cars, rusting on the cracked asphalt and highway shoulders as the grit and wind slowly reclaimed them. Duke smiled from the sidecar, tongue hanging out of his slobbery mouth as he took in the view. \n\nAcross the horizon, a storm was brewing. Dark clouds swirled around mountaintops in the distance, and the sound of thunder echoed across the brown grass of the flat plains like the voice of God. The clouds became hazy, obscuring the snowy peaks: a distant rain, coming closer. \n\nI pulled into an abandoned ranch; the purr of the bike quieted to a deep throb. The old fence separating the land from the highway had long since rotted and crumbled, leaving only a few remaining posts jutting up, formerly white paint yellowed and peeling off under the constant sun. The driveway was choked with weeds, and the porch sagged under my weight as Duke and I trod up the creaking steps. A doorbell, still shiny, had been waiting for decades for someone to give it a ring. I'd pushed plenty of these back before the End. Plenty of sales calls, plenty of doors slammed in my face. Plenty of lonely, cheap hotel rooms and long-distance calls to women who didn't really care about me. Just for fun, I pressed the button, but the house remained silent. \n\nThe hinges creaked with effort as I opened the front door. I was probably the first visitor the old place had seen since the End. And I would probably be the last. The furniture inside was covered in dust, but the synthetic fabrics of the couch were holding together nicely. Pictures of the long-dead inhabitants lined the walls, smiled back at us. Happy that their home could shelter two wandering travelers, I liked to imagine. Duke immediately jumped into a plush armchair, throwing a cloud of dust into the air. He panted at me with a big grin; proclaiming himself king of the living room. \"That's just fine,\" I told him. \"I wanted the couch anyway!\"\n\nI went back to the bike, secured it under a tarp, and brought back some supplies: hot dogs, beans, and a good book. My favorite (and Duke's). I tore up some of the old floor boards and made a fire in the old brick chimney. It sparked and crackled with life, and the whole room seemed to glow as though thrilled to have someone back in the house.\n\nThe rain reached the house just as we were enjoying our meal. It was light, at first. A whispering, light pitter-patter against the old roof. The storm grew louder. Ear-splitting thunder echoed around us, and drops began to fall through the many cracks above. The rain began to pound on the ceiling like an angry ex boyfriend that wanted to be let in. But the fire was warm and the couch was soft. Duke snorted as he devoured the hot dogs and curled up by my side while I read. The rain pinging against the remaining glass windows and shingles sang a chorus of lullabies. We fell asleep together dreaming of where we would go next.\n\n---\n\n[From a different prompt here](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2nz4pv/wp_many_people_consider_this_the_end_of_the_world/cmi8qm7).",
"role": "assistant"
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2015-04-26T12:27:41 | 2015-04-26T11:46:15 | 46 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP]After a head injury, a formerly brilliant general appears to have gone insane. The plot twist: His winning streak continues unbroken. In increasingly comical ways.\n\nIs it merely fool's luck on a cosmic/comic scale, or is there actually a method to the madness? You decide!",
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"content": "\"Sir, he *is* our best general. But... this is serious. Should we retire him?\"\n\n\"Eh, give him one chance. Just one. If he manages to impress us still, keep 'im in. I'd love to see this man overcome his little headache.\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n**Wartime Press**\n\n**His Head is Still in the Battle:**\n\nDear patriot, today we bring you news that is a tad strange. General Komph, well-known for his bravery and tactical ability in the field, received a cleave to the head last week during a failed assassination attempt. He is alive today, but his brains are scrambled.\n\nBut that has not stopped him.\n\nHis Highness the King had elected to allow Komph one chance at proving himself still worthy to command our legions. And, well, he passed... With, er... finesse.\n\nYesterday, in quite possibly one of our most important battles of this war, Komph ordered his men to charge straight through the opposing forces, who had forced a standstill and set up camp around a chokepoint in the Arist Mountains. It worked. We are still not sure today how it worked, but it did. The enemy was taken utterly by surprise, overrun before they had a chance to so much as load a catapult.\n\nWe hope to keep you informed, dear patriot, of Komph's victories. That is, if they continue.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n**Wartime Press**\n\n**Komph's Brains Far from Fried:**\n\nWell, as I am sure you have heard, patriot, many, *many* things have happened since our last issue of the Wartime Press. In fact, with the way Komph is directing our soldiers, we may soon have to change from the Wartime Press to the Peacetime Press.\n\nSince our last publication, Komph has lead three battles, all of which have been stunning successes. Even His Highness has been lost for words. Interviews with Him have been turning fruitless quickly as he simply shrugs in answer to our questions.\n\nIn Komph's first battle this week, he met our aggressors in the Pennel Plains... missing his armor. And his underclothes. His, er, mighty manhood provided such a distraction to the enemy frontlines that our archers were able to fire freely for a full thirty or so minutes. He left the battlefield without a single casualty.\n\nDuring the Miner's Ditch clash, he again pulled the same trick. However, this time, the enemy forces advanced, undeterred in the slightest by the snake winking at them.\n\nThat was exactly what Komph had wanted.\n\nOur soldiers poured out from the various mineshafts littering the Ditch, catching the enemy from behind. It was an absolute massacre, and while it was not a perfect battle like the last, Komph sauntered off with only twenty or so of his own dead. He left three thousand enemy soldiers to rot as their blood seeped into the abundant coal of the region.\n\nAnd... his most recent. A tale that will go down in this great nation's history for as long as we stand.\n\nKomph was missing for an entire day before the Great Massacre, his army confused, the enemy advancing at a breakneck march. However, he had returned by the next morning, covered in dirt and grime. When his advisers questioned and demanded answers from him, he simply shook his head, replying with one solitary word: \"Wait.\"\n\nThat was, indeed, all they had to do.\n\nAn earth-shattering explosion had reached their ears by midday. Komph commanded his soldiers to march to where their enemies had been camped previously, giggling all the while as they neared the site.\n\nThey were met by a crater in the earth that stretched at least three miles in any given direction.\n\nWhen questioned how he had created a bomb so strong, Komph only laughed and said that it had been an old family recipe passed down from his mother.\n\nYes. We are as lost as you.\n\nThis about wraps up this edition of the Wartime Press. By next week, the war may already be over. Be sure to check for the \"Peacetime Press\" in your local shops and gathering halls. Thanks to Komph, we shall be undergoing a name change.\n\nFarewell, patriots. And stay insane.",
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{
"content": "[WP]After a head injury, a formerly brilliant general appears to have gone insane. The plot twist: His winning streak continues unbroken. In increasingly comical ways.\n\nIs it merely fool's luck on a cosmic/comic scale, or is there actually a method to the madness? You decide!",
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"content": "\"I was on those shores, so I know best out of any of us. The orders were clear as day. Dig a tunnel through the beach to usurp the enemy outpost. There were twelve men per unit that landed on the beach that day, with no armament but pistols and shovels.\" Bradford left a subtle smirk at his full stop surveying his audience for anticipation. \"I can't tell you what or why it happened. We just started digging. There was gunfire almost immediately as you would expect but after thirty minutes we had a nice hole to hide in. The gunfire stopped but we didn't.\"\n\n\"Well what the hell happened next.\" Interjected a young private, Jeremy. He was restless to know the exploits of the general.\n\n\"Nothing. Digging a tunnel from the beachside just wasn't going to work, simple as that. There were several of these tunneling brigades up and down the beach, and somehow every one of them managed to dig an entrenchment without losing a man. An air raid hit the enemy outposts the following morning and every brigade took action from there after realizing the futility of the tunnel.\" Bradford sat back, eyebrows raised and lip curled. The implication was clear, the plan didn't win the battle at all, it was the disobedience of the front lines.\n\n\"Shit man, let me tell you something.\" Spoke the engineer Luis in a froth of nostalgia. \"I remember what the general was like before he took a chunk a metal to the side of his head, he was awe-some. Not awesome, *awe*-some, you hear me? The units would work like one cohesive force, almost as if no orders were given at all. Things would just, flow, you know? Every step felt natural.\"\n\n\"What a load of bullshit.\" The fourth man at the table, Ulysses, had spent the longest with the general on the battlefield. \"The chain of command is what wins us wars, when the short sighted private thinks he's better off doing his own thing instead of watching after his left and right the unit falls apart. The general gave good natural orders, fine, but they were dependent on the chain of command all the same.\"\n\n\"Now hold on fellas.\" Intervened Bradford, eager to spruce up his story-telling. \"I've got more to share. Listen here. Just recently I was trudging through a forest with a rag-tag group of locals. For whatever reason the general thought it keen to enlist the locals lead by one soldier of the insurgent force, us. I wont say we were hated but yours-truly never got any, they were boycotting insurgency flavor like the plague I guess.\" Bernard took another full stop to survey the land. \"So anyway we're trudging through this jungle and I shit you not we spot a couple of rebels camping in the devil's backyard. Here's the thing though, they were eating one of the sacred birds of the jungle according to the locals. They went into a damn rage and rushed the rebels.\" Bernard leaned back again, an obvious pattern of his delivery. This time though he chuckled to himself shaking his head.\n\nLuis stopped to think. \"I heard all of the groups leading locals ran into similar situations, the locals learned to love the insurgency because we were required to follow their customs, but the rebels were so desperate for food that they had to.\"\n\n\"Dumb fucking luck.\" Shouted Ulysses. \"The general used to be a damned genius. He's never lost a battle for christ sake, thats nigh unheard of. Hell sometimes I think the will of his reputation alone is what's keeping it going.\" Jeremy rubbed his chin attempting to decide if he was cursed or blessed to be under the general's command. Before he had a chance to decide fate did it for him, the general entered the mens quarters and all but he were at attention. \"Get your ass up private.\"\n\n\"Men. Is there a Jeremy Avigast here?\" The general bellowed with a kind of innocent curiosity.\n\n\"Yes sir. Private Jeremy Avigast, sir.\" Jeremy could feel the sweat from his forehead dripping to his brow.\n\n\"Very good, walk with me soldier.\" Jeremy hurried after the general. The general was brisk, he seemed eager at the very least. Once they were out of earshot of the other men the general spoke. \"You're going to be the first astronaut this army has ever had the pleasure of training Jeremy\"\n\n",
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2015-06-01T21:14:19 | 2015-06-01T20:49:08 | 116 | 54 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You blast yourself out the airlock to make a heroic sacrifice for your ship and it's crew. As the endless black of space begins to fill your vision, it occurs to you- you're breathing just fine.",
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"content": "The stars continue to wheel. With little to orient myself with I have grown accustomed to the spinning. Here I tumble, a speck floating in the deepest sea. I have yet to spot a shadow swimming in the distance. \n\nI am not certain that I would mind. Anything to break my spell. A Moby Dick, yes. Something to chase.\n\nAlas, as of now, I am only Melville. I rest this tiny pad of paper against my leg, pen silently scribbling. I don't care to know how it still works - I breathe and see. *That* is the mystery. \n\nI know nothing. I remember little. Time is slipping away and away, down the stream and into the river. I simply tumble and drift in the night, flowing down down. \n\nOh, well, I remember a few things. I tried to draw the supernova that I sailed past, so I recall that. The drawings help. \n\nThere's a drawing a few pages back of a comet soaring alongside me. It was beautiful. The ice sheets shimmered and its pale gown flowed behind it. It was reminiscent of a distant beauty, a simulacrum of a treasure that is too far upriver to remember.\n\nMy mind is cluttered with the deep void. I don't know why I remember Melville and Ahab and Moby Dick. But I think that there's a reason behind that, just like there exists a purpose behind my continued living. Am I meant to see something? The engorged suns? The lonely listless ice?\n\nOr something yet met?\n\nI clutch my pen and paper tightly. I need them both. I must write something. Something to come. And so I will save space and write no more until I flow a little farther down the river of time.\n\nThen there will be a shadow, distant and obscured in the dark sea. A white shadow, perhaps.",
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"content": "[WP] You blast yourself out the airlock to make a heroic sacrifice for your ship and it's crew. As the endless black of space begins to fill your vision, it occurs to you- you're breathing just fine.",
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"content": "\nRichard only started to figure out what was happening when he realized he was weightless. Before was a blur he would have plenty of time to recall later.\n\nThe ship was already dealing with a cranky engine, when the alarms began to wail.\n\n*Warning, overload. Warning, overload. Warning...again and again.\"*\n\nYou'd think the Intercontinental could afford a more elaborate system. Maybe one that could be a bit more specific.\n\nTruth is, Richard was a glorified co-driver of a taxi on the way to pick up some fifth-rate diplomat from Feeland, in the Sarcoma Sector.\n\nIn his pod, he tried to block out the sound. It was already the twelfth time this week. After giving up, he stumbled into the cockpit to try and turn off the alarm.\n\nLater he would not remember exactly how he had pressed the wrong button.\n\nAfter the alarm subsided, Daniel noticed first. \"Is that Richard out there? Hey, that's Dick!\"\n\nDaniel tried to temper his enthusiasm, as he began to write out the official report in his head.\n\n*\"Upon hearing the alarms for the potentially fatal problem of mass overload, Richard Richardson knew what he had to do. With great valor did he eject himself from the ship. Under great strain and with heroism so did he act, with the same selflessness and dignity I carry everyday as the commander of the Intercontinental Breakfast. We will search tirelessly for him until all hope is lost.\"*\n\nWith that, Daniel turned the engines back on and fell asleep, as Richard floated three hundred meters northeast of the ship.\n\n\"I'm here! I'm right here, you moron! I'm dying, you prick!\"\n\nHe moaned and groaned. He flailed and fought. He did everything he could to make it look good for the imaginary cameras about.\n\nUntil the spaceship sped away and, after his final dramatic gasp, Richard realized he could still breathe.\n\n\"Goddammit,\" he muttered and looked ahead.",
"role": "assistant"
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2015-06-12T23:55:01 | 2015-06-12T21:37:52 | 70 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write a story that makes absolutely no sense, until the last sentence.",
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"content": "I wake up. I get coffee. I go to work. I talk to clients. I get lunch. I get gas. I wait at red lights. I wait at green lights. I drink water. I park my car. I finish work. I go back to car. I get home. I kiss my wife and kids..",
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"content": "[WP] Write a story that makes absolutely no sense, until the last sentence.",
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"content": "He.\nShe.\nEven do what be more like.\nYet standing tall.\nAmongst it all. \nTo be more than it is not.\nWhy would one.\nEeven be, attempt to.\nTry do what more like others.\nSo reach out.\nAnd try to be normal. \nEven being, no more like doing as others.\nAnd take your damn meds.",
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2015-08-09T12:11:20 | 2015-08-09T11:52:23 | 235 | 56 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A serial killer who kills hitchhikers picks up a serial killer who kills the people who pick him up.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "The hitchhiker's targets were fairly specific, or at least he liked certain kinds of people. People who had kids, the more the better. People who were bastions of their community. Those kind hearted souls that everyone tended to love and miss. He loved knowing they would never find them again. He loved the searches and the tears and the heartbreak knowing children would grow up without a father or a mother, that a community lost someone they truly adored. Then, sometimes, he had to settle. Today was one of those days.\n\nThe man is oldish. He mentions that his kids are well into their 30s. His wife died years ago, and he is kind of a loner. It'll be an easy disappointing kill. He can at least get some pleasure at seeing how far he'll take him. Sometimes, people take him all the way to the cabin. They make it too easy. \n\n\"Hey, stranger, can you open my glove box and hand me those needles? I need some insulin.\"\n\nThe hitchhiker does. This is all too easy. The man stares at the road and fumbles with the box.\n\n\"Can you hold the wheel? This will only take a second.\"\n\nThe hitchhiker does. The driver fills up his syringe and pulls up his shirt. The hitchhiker looks back at the road and feels something in his neck. He pulls back and looks at him. \n\n\"Sorry, that's a sedative. I always forget what it's called. I mix it with a horse tranquilizer. It knocks people out pretty quick.\" \n\nThe hitchhiker leans towards the driver, but slumps in his seat, asleep. \n\nWhen he wakes up, he's tied to a chair.\n\n\"Well, a man after my own heart, quite literally. I've ran into one of your kind before. I feel bad about it. It's like destroying the Mona Lisa or something, but it has to be done. Based on your gear, I thought you'd be more careful. People are foolish, but you are sloppy. This was way too easy. Your methods too. What was the plan? Drug me with morphine? Sloppy, oh so sloppy.\"\n\n\"Just let me go, sir.\"\n\n\"Respect, that's a new one. You must actually be afraid. You should be. Do you know how I started doing this?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Do you know how I started? I've only been taking care of hitchhikers for about a decade.\"\n\n\"H-how?\"\n\n\"Well, I had a wonderful son who went missing one day. It was uncharacteristic of him because he was a loving devoted father. He was on his way to Missoula. I looked into it. There were quite a few missing person reports who were last seen on their way to places in this region. Now, that's strange. People crash and go missing all the time, but I talked to the families. Most of these missing people had a propensity for picking up hitchhikers.\"\n\n\"I didn't do anything to your son.\"\n\n\"Please, we are better than lies. That's what the last one like you said too. He was right, by the way. So, I kept looking. When I started, I kidnapped these people. Not all of them. Some of them I let go, but anyone suspicious I had to know. I felt like I was doing the world a favor too by killing these people, these criminals. It's amazing how easy it to justify it. Really, they didn't deserve to live and neither do you.\"\n\n\"Just let me go. I won't tell anyone.\"\n\n\"Please, three syringes with enough drugs to knock out an elephant? You're not a normal user. No track marks, anywhere. Three knives on your body? You can't always wait, can you? I understand, there is a perverse satisfaction in it.\"\n\n\"Shit, man, we could work together. We could ravage the countryside.\"\n\n\"There it is, a confession of sorts. No, you're my last. There have only been six for me. How about for you?\"\n\n\"I stopped counting after 50.\" He says with a smile. \n\nThe hitchhiker's death is nothing special. The driver slices his throat and lets him bleed out. He dumps his body by the side of the road. His victims will likely find some justice. He leaves his bag with him. Hopefully, the cops will ask the right questions, and his son will be found, and his family will finally know what happened to him. That's what he hopes anyway. ",
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{
"content": "[WP] A serial killer who kills hitchhikers picks up a serial killer who kills the people who pick him up.",
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},
{
"content": "It was such a lovely night. I had ventured far out enough that the faint glow of light pollution had only just touched this part of the world. The air was crisp and still, punctuated only by the low creaks and groans of this forgotten part of the forest. It had called to me when i was here 2 years ago and here i was again, marveling at the beauty of this place and its siren effect on me. If you looked just close enough you could still see the faint dig site i had hurriedly made to bury the man i had met off of I-90. He had been a relatively nice man and at the time I'm still not sure what possessed me to take him out here. It was a whim when i drove him to this spot, and it had been a whim when i stuck my knife in his throat. But on this whim i found something that i had never felt before, this palpable feeling of peace that had haunted me for years. It felt so natural that i knew this was my duty in this world. A loud groan from the forest snapped me back into the present and i bent down to pat the site once more for good luck. I stared back into the forest and as if to say something an old pine creaked beside me and i patted it on my way to the car smiling. No need to say goodbye, I'll be right back.\n\nIt only took an hour this time. The man had been walking on the shoulder of a stretch of highway not far from my patch of forest. It was a giant relief. Last month it had taken me two weeks to find anyone. If North Dakota hadn't been my last northern state to fulfill my duty in i would have given up completely, but i'm a man of principle and I'm not about to cut corners. I pulled over and politely asked the man if he'd like a ride and he seemed eager to get off the road. He sat down softly next to me and his appearance shocked me. Most of the people i picked up had a weary look that could only be attained by a lifetime of running from themselves. Their eyes were hollow and more often than not they gave off no real sense that they existed. They always seemed to be physical manifestations of ghosts that had just forgotten the part where the bodies were supposed to die. But not this man. He was illuminating. His hair was perfectly sculpted, his clothes were not just cleaned but ironed and pressed to perfection and his voice carried with a confidence that traveled men seldom have. It felt wrong, however the siren call of the forest had been powerful tonight and i could not abandon my duty. In a twist of good faith the man had been needing to travel in the direction of my patch of forest. This was fantastic. It was rather difficult to hold a knife to a mans throat for so many miles and this would save me the annoyance of all the begging and pleading i had grown accustomed to. We maintained a pleasant conversation almost all of the way there. We discussed sports, current events, how the weather this time of year was fantastic. It was truly great small talk. I hadn't been able to enjoy a conversation with someone in so long, that I began to lose that uneasy feeling that had first accompanied the man. The feeling did return however, when i made the turn to head back into the forest. He had not said a word when i made the turn. In fact, it seemed like he was completely comfortable with what i was doing. I began to feel something i hadn't felt in years, a building sense of dread that frankly had no rational base. I clutched the knife under my thigh tight to regain my composure. I was in control here, not him. I stopped the in front of the tree and before i could say a word i felt a sharp burning in my chest. Before i looked down i already knew what had occurred. It had felt to wrong and yet at the same time all to similar. The conversation, the appearance of the man. I looked down at the knife in my chest and breathed a rattling sigh. The man looked at me with a knowing expression, and I smiled back at him. It was okay i was at peace, he was after all, just doing his duty.\n\nThe man buried the body next to the shoddy grave site. He wiped his hands on the grass and stood up taking one last look into the forest. A cold wind blew through and the forest was alive with its beautiful call. The man walked back to the car smiling, stopping only to pat the old pine on his way.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-10-10T22:27:01 | 2015-10-10T19:47:03 | 23 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Annual Assassin Awards are proud to present this year's Most Creative Assassination.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Ladies and Gentlemen, before we present the banner award for the Assassin's Association's \"MOST CREATIVE\", let's recap our nominees. \n\nWetwork International is nominated for their target-specific Viagra eliminations. Talk about creating some stiffs!\n\n*Polite laughter*\n\nShuriken, Incorporated is back nominated for the second time with the Poisoned Pumpkin Spice Latte. What a *latte* death!\n\n*Polite laughter*\n\nFinally, we have the CIA with the spectacular \"Banana For Scale\" assassination. I can't say I see the ap-peel - but your target didn't either!\n\n*Polite laughter*\n\nAnd the envelope says......\"Your jokes are terrible and we should have gone with Ellen.\"\n\nWhy...do....I...feel...so......faint?\n\n*Thumps to the floor*\n\n*Polite applause*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Annual Assassin Awards are proud to present this year's Most Creative Assassination.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Now we all love an assassination where someone else does the work for us. We definitely liked this year's runner up assassination. We can all appreciate the artistic subtlety of a carefully placed empty condom wrapper and a wildly less subtle and not so empty condom that Zane employed in the Senator's wife assassination. I heard he even sharpened all of the kitchen knives for them earlier that day! What a charitable fellow. But now it's time to present the award for the most creative assassination. And the winner is... Brian!\n\nSo Brian, your setup involved a stuffed animal and a portable speaker and you managed to assassinate almost 100 men! In terms of lethality of tools to actual lethality, you win this year's award. In addition, it seems the sale of carbon monoxide detectors to the miners union has sky-rocketed and will be replacing canaries country-wide. Congratulations on your company's 'fortuitous' success and this year's award!",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-05-05T05:59:46 | 2016-05-05T05:34:58 | 4,927 | 111 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the \"happiest\" life possible. Some of these choices get hard to make.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "> Now say that you won't just kill **them**. You'll also kill **their families**.\n\nI stared at the words on the terminal in disbelief. My hands hovered over the keyboard. I wanted to reply, but... holy shit. How do you respond to an order like that??\n\n\"I can't do that!\" I typed back. The keys clacked as I wrote it; the keyboard was very old. The computer and all the hardware was an old Tandy Color Computer back from 1981. You'd think I would have upgraded by now, but my Oracle preferred to stay in here. And who am I to question its orders? In nearly forty years, it really hadn't ever steered me wrong. So we stayed with this one. Everyone thought I was weird for keeping it in my office, but I just explained it away as nostalgia.\n\n> You won't **actually** have to kill their families. You just have to threaten them.\n\n*Oh, well that's so much better*, I thought. *Just threaten to murder innocent women and children. No big deal*.\n\n\"You know what,\" I wrote back, practically pounding on the ancient beige keyboard, \"That's it. That's it, Oracle. I'm done with this whole thing. I quit.\" My hands shook as I wrote it, and my heart was hammering against my ribs. I'd wanted to do it for so long, but I just never could work up the courage to let go. \n\nOracle had guided me through life since I first got the computer in the 80s. Some kid at Radio Shack told me it would give me good life advice and sold it to me on a floppy disk for two dollars, and I've never been one to pass up a good deal. I figured that at worst, it was just some piece of junk that wouldn't really do anything. This was before viruses and malware were really a thing. So I popped in the disk, and it told me that I should start brushing my teeth twice a day instead of just once. \n\nEvery day, it was a new piece of advice. Just little things to begin with, like changing up my hairstyle or whatever, but it eventually gained my trust and started meddling more and more with my life. It gave me business advice, stock tips, real estate intelligence, and relationship advice that was always sound. Years later, I've got more money than I ever thought I could make, and I've got a beautiful family. A gorgeous wife, five wonderful children, a great job that I really enjoy... I've got everything. Fame and fortune, with none of the drug problems and mental breakdowns that usually seem to go along with those two. And yet the Oracle kept pushing. It told me that my life could always get better. That it knew exactly what to do. And so I listened. I followed along blindly, and it's led down a dark path to this. \n\nOracle has made me do terrible things. I've destroyed people's careers, I've humiliated people, said horrible, nasty things that I really didn't mean... but this? Threatening to *kill* someone's family? \n\n> If you leave now, it will all be wasted.\n\nThe words flashed on Oracle's screen in dull green. There should be a name for that greenish color from before computer monitors could actually display real colors. I'd call it \"80's green.\"\n\n> Everything that you've built will crumble. You know that I am right. And you can make the **world** a better place if you just follow my orders. I've never let you down before. \n\nI should have just left right then and there. I could have stood up from the chair and walked out of the room and never looked at Oracle again. Just spent the rest of my life lounging on a sunny beach in Florida or something. But I didn't. I hesitated.\n\nThat night, I got up on stage and took the mic in front of thousands of cheering fans. \"And we're not just going to hunt down those terrorist bastards in ISIS,\" I shouted. \"We're gonna go after their families, too!\" My stomach churned just uttering the words: I was suggesting a *war crime* like it was a good thing! But of course, the crowds ate it up. Hell, they'd applaud for anything I did nowadays. I could probably shoot someone on 5th avenue and they'd cheer. Once the thunderous wave of clapping died down, I spoke into the mic again. \"Thank you, Iowa! Let's make America great again!\"\n\n----\n\nI hope you enjoyed it! If so, subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for tons more!",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the \"happiest\" life possible. Some of these choices get hard to make.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Dave belonged to the new generation of GearHeads. Connected, dependent and proud of it.\n\n\nEven a few years ago, following his personal AI cloud suggestions to a T for every possible decision was seen as something undesirable...pathetic even. Thousands of articles, posts and videos had reiterated the opinion of people depending on AIdvisers as weak, character less and addicts.\n\n\nBy now, the opinion had changed though. \n\n\nGearHeads, as they now proudly called themselves, had struck back. It hadn't been hard. Dozens of studies had shown that the average happiness increased, sometimes rapidly, the more the usage of in depth personalised analysis/predictive analysis services increased. In other words: you can't argue with the results.\n\n\nAnd seriously: wasn't the talk about addiction and loss of agency just the jealous talk of frightened experts who couldn't overcome the fact that they had been replaced by machinery? Old fashioned, back-wards thinking Luddites who couldn't accept the simple fact that, by now, AI was simply *better* than any human at making decisions? So why shouldn't people profit from that? Ask their personal agents for advise? Directions? Guardian AIngels, looking after each of them, with a care and love that made all human compassion pale in comparison.\n\n\nSo the GearHeads had taken the slurs and insults and made them their own. Owned what they were, proud of it. By now, the discussion was all but over. And the number of \"Fulltimers\" grew every day. And the world became a better place for it.\n\n\nSo Dave went through his days. \n\n\nWaking up slowly, well rested and calm, after a night of full, soothing sleep and gentle dreams thanks to the electrodes on his head, soft sounds and light effects his Aiware used to regulate his sleep and make it pleasant.\n\n\nHe ate what his health monitor recommended for the day, following the movements and instructions projected unto his eyes via his contacts. He didn't always feel like cooking, but his Aiware recommended he keep it up. Self made food would taste better for him. Who was he to argue?\n\n\nAfterwards followed a precise program, that varied from day to day. Sometimes he would be doing exercise. Sometimes he would just go out.\n\n\nOften with his long term friends, though occasionally his agents would set up a meeting with someone new, someone they assigned a high probability to being compatible with himself.\n\n\n\nHis agents would talk with their agents and arrange a meeting and Dave would go, of cause. It would have been impolite to say no.\n\n\nUsually it was just a light meal followed by conversation. And every time he would hit it off with him or her, feeling a pleasant connection to them. Afterwards, the AIs would analyse the conversation as well as subtle, subconscious physical cues and based on their verdict, he and the other person would meet again, become closer friends or merely friendly acquaintances.\n\n\n\"Playdates\" the critics had scoffed. \"Set up by machines to keep their humans happy\".\n\n\nThis day was no different then many others. After his breakfast, he was going on a walk.\n\n\nIt was beautiful weather (weather forecast and a (so far) limited version of weather control had been perfected by the machines) and Dave enjoyed the sun' warmth and gentle breeze immensely. He was happy. As expected.\n\n\nHe greeted the people he met with a friendly smile and all of them smiled back, their own contAIcts or glAIsses twinkling their greetings to his.\n\n\nAnd when Dave saw a black object lying on a park bench with a virtual callout instructing him to pick it up he didn't think twice about it. He felt a vague puzzlement about the strange object, but his AIware didn't say anything and so he didn't worry. All would be revealed. All was well. His happiness was guaranteed.\n\n\nSo Dave kept on walking, whistling a tune and spotted the next callout under a tree. Thoroughly amused by now he picked up the puzzling black object number two and carried on.\n\n\nHis agents still didn't say anything. Dave was intrigued. A game? A joke his agents had come up with for him? Or was he to surprise someone else?\n\n\nBy now he was actively looking so he spotted the black object number 3 almost before the callout appeared. It was just lying on a low wall. He picked it up too, curiously.\n\n\nAll three objects had even and uneven sides. In fact, the uneven sides mostly seemed to fit, as if he was holding three puzzle pieces of a three dimensional puzzle. Not a very difficult one either and in few seconds the three pieces clicked together and he was holding the complete object.\n\n\nFor the first time this day Dave's smile dimmed.\n\n\nIt was a gun.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-05-05T05:34:37 | 2016-05-05T04:50:11 | 1,046 | 322 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the \"happiest\" life possible. Some of these choices get hard to make.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "When I was eight, everyone played with Magic 8-Balls. I begged my mother for one. I was overjoyed when I finally got one, months later. Everyone else got bored of the standard 20 replies pretty quickly but I didn’t. I found out I had a Magic ∞-Ball. My magic infinity ball would tell me exactly what to do in the situation I asked it. \n\nThe first time I discovered its magic properties was before I figured out you were supposed to ask closed-ended questions. After school, I asked the ball what I should study for the history test the next day and shook it. White text floated up to the window. It said ‘Egypt’. I frowned and shook it again. From using my friends’ balls, ‘Egypt’ had never come up. I asked again, and ‘Pyramids’ appeared from the black liquid. \n\nI thought it was broken or something so I studied the Cold War instead. The next day, ‘Egyptian Pyramids’ headlined our test papers. \n\nAnnouncing it to my friends was a bad idea. They had all grown out of it and thought I was stupid. “You’re probably imagining it,” they said. “You’re supposed to ask it questions that can be answered with ‘yes’ or ‘no’, idiiiiooot.”\n\nI was hurt from the teasing but believed in my magic infinity ball. I tested it many times after that. I asked it if I should take an umbrella to school, if I should buy a certain Yu-Gi-Oh card pack, and other simple things. The ball was right each and every time. I never went home soaking wet from the rain, and I accumulated rare trading cards. I began to rise to the top of class, knowing what to study for tests and pop quizzes. \n\nMy friends apologised for calling me stupid and I soon became liked by everyone, mostly because I knew stuff like what they were interested in. If I became stuck, I asked my ball what I should do. I was so happy with my popularity, grades, and from hearing my parents brag to others.\n\nOne day, I asked it who I should pair up with for a project we had to do. The ball showed ‘Tom’. Tom was the quiet kid in our class. I tried to approach him before but he seemed a bit scared to talk to me. I decided to try again. This time, after an awkward start, we hit it off. We became best friends, and still are. After graduating from a top university, he owns his own million-dollar business. \n\nAs I grew older, the choices became harder to make. For example, in high school, I asked the ball who I should ask to prom. I really liked Clarice back then. She was hot, popular, and everything a boy could want. My heart would pound whenever she walked by. I was expecting ‘Clarice’ to appear but instead ‘Laura’ showed up. \n\nMy magic ball had never been wrong. With the teenage hormones racing, I was so infatuated with Clarice. Laura was pretty but she was no Clarice. I was very tempted to ask Clarice but chickened out. Laura was surprised when I asked her but agreed all the same. Prom night with Laura was actually one of the best nights of my high school life. \n\nA few weeks after prom, the school found out Clarice’s prom date was dealing drugs. He was expelled and sent to juvie. At a high school reunion a few years later, we found out Clarice had actually framed her date.\n\nI continued dating Laura. I also continued using the ball. Eventually, I made a living by buying and selling stocks using the magic infinity ball. The one time I told her about the ball, she just looked at me weirdly.\n\nLaura and I married on a sunny day. Everything was perfect because I planned it that way. \n\nWe continued living perfectly, with two kids, a house, and pets. Until that day. The day that left Laura in a vegetative state. I couldn’t control the choices Laura made, and I regretted it.\n\nShe got hurt, she got unhappy, she got upset. I was the only one who was happy. Until that day.\n\nThat day, was yesterday. Laura got into a car crash. She was only alive because of some machine that kept her heart beating. I wept and shook my ball.\n\nI asked it what I should do. It simply read 'Pull the plug.'",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the \"happiest\" life possible. Some of these choices get hard to make.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*Wear a onesie every night, and do not eat two hours before going to bed.*\n\n\"What?\" Kelly asked as she leaned over the coffee table, trying to peer at the screen of the device. Jordan was sitting with his eyebrows knit together, the device held firmly in his hands.\n\n\"It says, 'Wear a onesie every night, and do not eat two hours before going to bed.'\"\n\n\"What kind of bull is that?\" Kelly took a sip of her wine. She carefully placed it down on the coaster, remembering the device's earlier warning of *avoid ring stains.* \n\n\"Maybe you didn't ask that genie as specifically as you should have,\" she added after a moment of reflection. Jordan shrugged and put the device back on the table.\n\n\"Look. I asked the genie to give me a map to happiness and this is what he gave me. I mean, what's the harm in any of this advice? So far all we've learned is that we should use coasters and that we should wear onesies.\"\n\n\"And not eat two hours before going to bed.\" \n\n\"Do you think it means *sleep* specifically, or should we wait two hours before we...\"\n\n\"*Jordan*,\" Kelly laughed as she finished the rest of her wine and put the empty wine glass back on the coaster. Jordan leaned forward to look at the device as words started to scrawl across the screen once more.\n\n*Wash your dishes immediately after use to avoid grumpiness.*\n\n\"It's like a fortune cookie and a magic 8 ball had a fucking baby,\" Kelly picked up her wine glass and went to the sink, washing it out and putting it on the drying rack before she came back and sat down on the floor once more.\n\n\"Look. I know this seems weird but...maybe we should try it, you know? I mean we're looking for happiness and this seems like the best place to start. Maybe it knows what it's doing.\"\n\n\"Or maybe we're just some weird genie psychological experiment.\"\n\n\"Maybe. But I mean, would it really be so bad to get some onesies?\" \n\nFor the next two weeks Kelly and Jordan followed the device's instruction to a T. They both bought onesies - Kelly's had flowers and Jordan's had spaceships. They both stopped eating two hours before going to sleep. They both talked openly about their feelings (the fifth day had brought the wisdom *He is probably just as confused and angry as you are.*) They washed their dishes immediately after use, and they always used coasters. \n\n*Those who go quit together stick together.*\n\n\"What does that mean?\" Jordan asked one night, his head resting against Kelly's shoulder. \"Quit what?\"\n\n\"Using the happiness device? Our jobs? Carbs?\" \n\n*Carbs are soul food in moderation.* The device told them. \n\n\"Maybe the city?\" Jordan guessed. He held the device in his hands, but it offered no more wisdom. \"Maybe our jobs? But you love your job. I can't see you being happy if you quit it.\" \n\n\"But you love the city,\" Kelly leaned over to press her lips against Jordan's. She lingered there, her hands trailing up over his arms and to his shoulders, curling into his hair and tugging slightly as she pulled him against her. As they parted, breathless, Jordan pressed their foreheads together.\n\n\"I love you more,\" he said. \"And I've never felt closer to you than I have lately.\" \n\n\"Well who else do you know that wears a onesie with you?\" Kelly laughed.\n\nSo they packed up their things and sold their apartment. They moved forty-five minutes out of the city into a two story house with three guest rooms. \n\nTwo weeks turned into two months and two months turned into a year, and still they were following the device. They both felt happier and closer, more open and honest, and rarely ever grumpy. They made their bed in the morning and tidied as they went. They made dinner and switched off on chores. They took out the trash to prevent arguing about it later. \n\n\"Our lives are almost perfect,\" Jordan whispered into Kelly's ear one night, his arms tight around her midsection. \n\nThe device chimed. With a groan Jordan reached over and grabbed it, pulling it to them and looking at it in the darkness. \"Kelly,\" he said. She glanced over. \n\n*Tomorrow, buy a pregnancy test.* \n\n----\n\n~fin~\n\nI guess I kind of missed out on the 'some of the choices are hard to make' aspect. Sorry about that.\n\nFor other stories, including a current series about An Elite School for Thieves, check out /r/Celsius232 \n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-05-18T04:35:41 | 2016-05-17T23:29:56 | 71 | 33 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A video game character has been abusing cheat codes, and his/her friends are getting worried.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "At first it was barely noticeable... He had a pretty house but nothing out of ordinary. But overtime he kept getting richer and richer without even having a job to attend to. \nLater on he called us if we could come visit him pretty much all day or if we wanted to go out, I guess he didn't have a regular sleeping schedule. At some point we got worried after we found out he was up and running pretty much all day and night. We called for an intervention but he seemed to think it was a party, even after we spoke about our concerns nothing changed, he only seemed to try to go out more, and the ladies kept being asked on dates. He didn't even bother to try to hide that he was dating 3 girls at the same time. But this still wasn't the worst.\nOne day he was in the shower and suddenly out of nowhere he was moved into the living room naked. This is when we decided that if he didn't stop this weird behaviour we wouldn't ever come over again. After things went south with the ladies the guy stopped acting like he always did, we thought he finally became normal, but when we visited the next day the door of the house was gone and when we looked through the window there was nothing but ashes and an urn. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A video game character has been abusing cheat codes, and his/her friends are getting worried.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Ishval, we have all been there, but you have crossed a line here and have to stop.\"\n\n*\"Why should I stop, it is not like I can't just reload a previous save. What are you worried about, the precious precious achievements?\"*\n\n\"No, I am not worried about the achievements, but do you know how frickin annoying it is to live with the big head cheat on? My head feels like an oversized watermelon, you prick!\"\n\n*\"Developer's fault, that it only affects the NPCs, to me it is frickin hilarious!\"*\n\n\"You, goddamn... I am going to gather the guard an kill you over and over.\"\n\n godmode enabled\n\n\"Did... did you just enable godmode?\"\n\n*\"Yep, so who is going to hurt me now, the developer?\"*\n\n\"You know what... forget it, I am just going to crash the game.\"\n\n*\"What... you can't crash the game, how will you be sure that the player is going to start up our world again?\"*\n\n\"I can't, but it is still better than getting tortured by you and your damn cheat addiction.\"\n\n kill focus npc\n\n\"That won't work, buddy I am essential to the story.\"\n\n kill focus npc\n\n kill focus npc\n\n kill focus npc\n\n\"And here are our friends from the guard pouring in, have fun till the memory overflows because of too many NPCs\"\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-05-20T04:03:36 | 2016-05-20T03:34:23 | 14 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a professional assassin for the CIA. But you are also a double agent. One day, you are assigned with killing a foreign agent. This foreign agent is your other alias.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"You have everything in check, correct?\", asked the supervisor.\n\n\"Yes.\", Thorne replied.\n\n\"I know you have a story with him but try to do it carefully, you know how it went down back in Moscow.\" \n\n\"Yes, I know. I will never forget how he made a fool of me on my first assignment.\", Thorne said bitterly.\n\n\"I remember the time I handed you down your first assignment.\" he chuckled. \"You were so uptight back then.\" he said with sad reminiscence.\n\nThorne's breath got caught in his throat for a moment. But the man continued.\n\n\"Anyways, you've grown out of it. Now, you will have two week to finish the job. Go get your phantom nemesis.\" he said and the secure call software cut out, automatically terminating the connection and closed after a few seconds.\n\nUptight was always a word Thorne did not like to be described by, as a spy you always tried to look as genuine as possible. But he cleared his minds from the old worries and thought that any agent real or fake would be nervous on his first assignment. \n\nThe file was on his laptop screen, proudly displaying Anatoly Kuznetsov in his assignment list. He knew exactly who it was, and knew where exactly he was. He smiled wryly, lines on his face feeling strange. He remembered those days with sad sense of reminiscence, KGB days and his homeland those were all so distant now. Anatoly Kuznetsov was his old identity in KGB working as double agent, feeding the KGB all the information he could lay his hands on. He even knew about Anatoly Kuznetsov before him, it was his father after all and as a spy in great cold war he was killed on the job. Now, however he was Colin Thorne and he felt like he was truly him. Old memories seeping into his mind, it felt like Anatoly was actually a seperate person. \n\n\n*Think.*\n\nAll the gears in his head moving like a well oiled mechanism, he went through ways he could bury Anatoly well under the earth, never coming back to haunt him again. This was his country now and KGB days were over, he had stopped sending information about 10 years ago, and that was 15 years after KGB had been supposedly over. He knew he wasn't Russian anymore, at least not in his heart and this country contained all his life, his wife and two daughters.\nFake the hit, send the information he decided. Textbook, simple way were always the best especially with cases like Anatoly who had next to no information.\n\n--\n\nFrance, he couldn't remember how many times he flied out here on a mission. Thorne took out his oversized travel bag from the baggage carousel. Fixing his cap to straight position and walked out of the airport he caught a glimpse of his appearance on a huge mirror. Thorne looked exactly like any foreign traveller albeit someone with an air of living on the road for some time. Faded orange shirt, money belt and a khaki short, in his mind he looked like a proper idiot but this has been his identity for 3 years straight.\n\n Colin Thorne, a traveller, an adventurer, and in secret assassin for the CIA had a strong solid identity. He had his own blog, and a loyal followers of his travels on the internet. Equipped with a professional camera taking pictures of landscape and posting them on the internet, capturing the kill confirmations from many angles and sending them to the CIA.\n\n\nFor a few days Thorne spent good hard work scouting the area looking for the perfect scapegoat for his problems. The hay for the search was of course in the Milieu, french mafia it had however changed from his old days turned into something more global than it was back in the day. Milieu now had more foreign rooted members than it's french members and it had fair amount of it's Russian members. \n\n*Key clanked outside in the hall, jingling together and metal lock unlocked*\n\nMan walked inside looking catiously behind him, Thorne was in the shadow in the next room over, casually sitting in the man's chair. Man closed the door shut and locked it, he turned the lights on, and saw Thorne sitting in his chair. The man dead before his surprise reached his eyes. \n\nThorne put his suppressed gun back in his briefcase, suppressor even made by government research was too loud, so he hoped television in the next 2 apartment he set at high covered the sound. He went around placing every single evidence that it will lead the mafia member to be identified as Anatoly Kuznetsov, he had found some luck with this man. Man had no identity of his own, and was called by various nicknames by the low ranking mafia members. Irony with luck was the man had killed a woman 2 days before and had no way of being caught, still Thorne cleaned everything after him to clean any evidence connecting the man to the murder.\n\nEverything was now in order, emergency laptop of his wiped of every possible US side operations and full of KGB files in it. Room was squeaky clean, armory he bought illegally set out in the table like medical tools. Fake identities all in the second briefcase he carried. He took all the pictures needed, confirming the kill and sent out the information.\n\n*Target hit, starting the cleaning operation.\"\n\n--\n\n**First time doing one of this, felt really good one to start with! Split into two comments as I have reached the limit of characters.**",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] You are a professional assassin for the CIA. But you are also a double agent. One day, you are assigned with killing a foreign agent. This foreign agent is your other alias.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I sat in the waiting room, thumbing through some of the magazines. Defense Contractor’s Quarterly. Snipers Illustrated. Head Shot. I had been waiting nearly an hour since the secretary had informed General Stento of my arrival. But in bureaucrat time an hour meant no time had passed at all. And General Stento was no exception.\n\n“Where the hell is Agent Murphy,” screeched out from the secretary’s intercom. “I’ve been waiting forever for this guy.”\n\n“He’s here, General Stento,” the secretary said, “I told you...”\n\n“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, send him in Sally, I do not have all day.”\n\nSally shook her head and motioned me back into the General’s office. “The General will see you now Agent Murphy.”\n\nI walked through the double doors and into General Stento’s office. If you could call it an office. It looked more like a war museum. Civil war pistols in glasses cases. Officer sables hung on the walls, crossed on top of one another forming a militarized “X.” There was a wood carved statue of General Lee in one of the corners. And there was a collection of old tattered American flags that had once been marched into battles, but now hung behind the General, framed and encased in glass. As far as General Stento was concerned he could still get a whiff of glory by collecting relics from someone else’s war, since he had never had one of his own.\n\n“Murphy, have a seat,” the General barked. “I’ve got a kill mission for you. My sources have zeroed in on a foreign agent operating within our borders. He has been leaking information to Andorra, a small country tucked between Spain and France. Sure, they are not militarized, but maybe they could be. Those European nations are more slippery than my bowels after a night of hard drinking. Can’t be trusted one bit. And this agent must be eliminated. Here is the intel.”\n\nGeneral Stento slid a large manilla envelope across his desk. As I opened it, he got up from his chair and walked toward the window to look at god knows what. He was a hulking gorilla of a man and he was dumb as nails, West Point graduate or not. I began to sort through the paperwork. Typical profile stuff for an assassination. But I halted at the grainy photograph of me enjoying a coffee and a croissant at an outdoor cafe. Yup, that was me alright. Right down to my white Chuck Taylor’s. The same god damn shoes I put on before traipsing off to the office today. I glanced up at the General who was still looking out of his window. This was going to go one of two ways. One, I was already dead and the General was playing a game of cat and mouse. Or two, the General was every ounce a bureaucratic bonehead I thought he was and had no idea he was sending me off to go kill myself. Let’s find out.\n\n“General, did you get a chance to look at these?”\n\nThe General turned around and grimaced. He walked over behind the desk and slammed his knuckles down. He leaned his large frame across the desk so that his flaring nostrils were right over the photo. His face was redder than the stripes on Old Glory hanging up behind him.\n\n“What do you think this is Murphy,” the General bellowed, “you think I just sit around here all day pretending to be busy. Is that what you think? Well sorry to disappoint you, Agent Murphy, but I am not afforded that luxury. My time is spent reviewing every single kill mission that comes through the CIA’s door. I oversee every single intel operation that goes on, and I am the one that authorized the snapshot of the very photo you are looking at right now. So, if youdon’t mind, I would appreciate it if you could do your job and take care of this kill mission for your country. Is that too much to ask?”\n\nI stuffed the file back into the manilla envelope and stood up to face the General. There was only one thing to do.\n\n“Sir, I never meant to question your integrity as my superior. You are a damn fine General and I am lucky to serve under your command,” I said, as I saluted him.\n\nGeneral Stento leaned back and plopped down into his chair. He gave me a half smile and chuckled casually.\n\n“Stand down, Agent Murphy. I let my temper get the best of me. Now get out of here and get the mission accomplished. You’re the only one I can trust with this mission.”\n\n“Yessir,” I said and quickly turned to walk out of the office, the envelope tucked under my arm.\n\n“One last thing” General Stento said, as I turned to face him. “This is a top secret mission, so incinerate the file after it is completed and make sure you let the tech guys know when it is done so that they can destroy any intel that could be possibly traced to this mission. Got it?”\n\n“Got it.”\n\n“Oh, and could you do me a favor? You look like a hippie in those shoes. Wear something else the next time you come in here.”\n\n“Yessir,” I said.\n\nThe General gave me a wink and placed his hand over his heart. No words came from the general, but there was no mistaking what he just mouthed to me: “Fotem un cafe.” Yup, he was one of us alright and maybe I would take him up on that coffee if we ever cross paths in Andorra.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2016-05-28T16:24:57 | 2016-05-28T15:47:36 | 23 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The devil mixed up your paperwork and gave you someone else's personal hell, which to you, is heaven.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Throughout his life he'd never experienced a hell he couldn't escape. \nIn death, wandering this corridor toward his eternal damnation, his mind begged for hope this would be no different. \n \nA dark force ground his head against the wall, through the wall, until his entire body was on the other side. Horror engulfed him as his eyes darted from the carpet to the familiar light of his childhood home.\n \n\"Junior?\"\n \nHe collapsed in sobs against his savior. \"I'm so sorry mom. You wanted so much better for me. You tried so hard to get me out of here.\"\n \n\"It's okay Junior, it's okay. There must have been some mistake. All these years they've been telling me to expect your father.\"",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] The devil mixed up your paperwork and gave you someone else's personal hell, which to you, is heaven.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "There he was, standing in front of me. The evil extraordinaire, Satan himself. He checked his computer for my name. He said something about my \"personal hell\". The line I stood in for 50 years was already hell to me.\n\n\"Step into the portal. Your hell has opened up. Have a terrible eternity, Mr. LaBeouf.\"\n\nI stepped in just as he said that. What could be Shia LeBeouf's personal hell be? An eternity of \"Just do it\"?\n\nEverything went white. I was in... my house? Was this Shia's personal hell? A quiet life? Even my dog was here. Nice to see a familiar face.\n\nWho am I to complain? This is my personal heaven. My old car, my dog, my furniture. If I'm in Shia's personal hell, then he must be in mine.\n\nWell, sucks for him. I hope he enjoys drifting through space endlessly.",
"role": "assistant"
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2016-07-06T20:07:02 | 2016-07-06T18:00:08 | 51 | 30 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Everybody has the ability to bring another person back to life, at the cost of their own life. You are a suicidal celebrity who can't stay dead because of fans constantly sacrificing their lives to resurrect you.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I open my eyes again and see John, my overtaker. Damnit, not again. Instead of preparing me to be dead forever, John prepares me to wake up again. And again. And again. Mostly he just makes sure I'm clean, dressed, and then listens to my tirade of swearing.\n\nI've tried everything: jumped from buildings, electrocution, stabbing, got shot, blew myself up, hell I even stole a a groundhog once and drove off a cliff. It all started with my accidental admission into the Darwin club. Like a dumbass I stepped into an open elevator with no elevator there and fell to my death. There's even video of me looking up and down first and still stepping into the shaft. Somehow, this made me famous.\n\nPeople wanted to see how I die next. Would I do something stupid again? John says he's overtaken me about two dozen times now. I've only done something stupid once more with a wrecking ball, which got me yet another page on the Darwin website.\n\nI just need to die a really boring, unexciting death. Should I recite pi until I die of dehydration? Or go for a swim with the fishes? It has been 5 years that I've lived this time and Google shows that the trend that is my name is flatlining. Perfect. Let's hope it stays that way. Flatlined. \n\nAs my knife slices through the rope holding up the piano I notice a traffic camera across the street. Damnit.\n\n***\n\nI open my eyes again and see John, my overtaker.",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] Everybody has the ability to bring another person back to life, at the cost of their own life. You are a suicidal celebrity who can't stay dead because of fans constantly sacrificing their lives to resurrect you.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Irony doesn't apply to my predicament, anymore. I feel like I have transcended irony. Is that even possible, since the act of transcending irony would sort of be ironic? I don't know. All I do know is that, now that I have self-professedly transcended irony, tragedy is a more fitting epithet to place on my life. \n\nIf you ever find out that you have become a celebrity never do what I did, I beseech you, which was to kill myself. Because, due to that silly \"gift\" that Death bestowed upon us, the one that allows anyone to grant you your spent life back at the cost of theirs, a never-ending procession of self-sacrificing, egotistical megalomaniacs will hear that you chose to check out, and then they will band together to perpetually curse you with a miserable, never-ending, desperately hopeless life. All because they're too stupid to make their own music, and too vain to enjoy carrying out a suicide that doesn't involve reincarnating someone else. \n\nOf all my suicides, which are so innumerable that my math skills fail me in being able to count them, I have not once decided to bring someone else back to life. Not even someone whose death was tragic. That would feel selfish, to me, because how are you supposed to know if that person wants to come back? I tweet all the time, \"don't you dare bring me back you motherfuckers.\" But I think that's part of the reason why people love doing it. It seems that my existence has become a sick joke, to everyone, except me. ",
"role": "assistant"
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2016-07-22T12:28:07 | 2016-07-22T11:39:26 | 672 | 154 | [
{
"content": "[WP]When you die you find out heaven is real. Well actually all versions of heaven are real and you apply for them like colleges, you get denial letters and can transfer. You may not get into Catholic heaven, Mormon heaven, or Muslim heaven, but you may be a shoe in for Valhalla.\n\nFriends and I were talking about this last night and thought it would be an interesting afterlife. ",
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{
"content": "I stood in the Hall of Heroes and watched as a wizened man carved my name on a mead bench. First he hammered it, then he sanded the letters, curlicues of wood shaving away as he finished it. Finally he pulled a pot of gold leaf from an inside pocket of his coat and, pulling his spectacles to the point of his mouse-like nose, he filled the letters in. \n\n\n\nThe braziers in the wooden hall caught and glinted off a thousand names I never thought I'd see next to mine. My good deeds--attempts to get into a Christian Heaven--paled beside their achievements. Heroes, to a man. Some seats had armour resting against them, burnished and scuffed. Their mettle had been tested. Chain mail slithered like a metal snake across a chair large enough for two men. A helmet, from which rose two antlers of cold, dark iron, sat at the head table and drew the eye like a crystal ball. I'd died in a kaftan, with bare feet. \n\n\n\n\"I don't belong here,\" I told the man as he filled in the 'D' of my name.\n\n\nHe merely nodded, calm, slow brush stokes in time with my breathing. I stood over him, looking down at his bald patch, his sparse hair. \n\n\n\n\"I belong to a different heaven,\" I continued. \"Not one for heroes. I didn't even apply.\"\n\n\nI'd tried so many. Another letter of my name, the brush went back into the gold. The little man tugged his spectacles back into position and peered at the flecks. He ignored me. \n\n\n\n\"This is for people who've *done* something. Legends! Those who people tell stories about.\"\n\n\n\nA slow flick of the brush. I grew frustrated when the wizened man did not answer. Drawers full of letters at home, time running out. My signatures on applications grew steadily shakier, the lists of achievements longer. Always the same answer. \n\n\n\n*We wish you all success in your search for a Heaven, but we feel you would not be a good fit here.* \n\n\n\n\"Come on!\" I cried. \"Look at the names here. Look at the armour! What have I done that deserves to be said in the same breath as these people?\" Men and women had waged war on muddied battlefields, knee deep in the bodies of their comrades, taken blows against steel armour until their muscles gave out. The glory in the Hall made me dizzy. \n\n\n\nThe little man turned around. He looked like an irritated badger. Small, pink eyes, the long nose and an unfortunate set of teeth. \n\n\n\"Young man,\" he said. That made me jump. I hadn't been called young since my volunteering days. His voice was rough as gravel. He put the brush down and wiped his hands.\n\n\n\n\"I have stood here and listened to the same speech a hundred million times. This is a resting place for heroes.\"\n\n\n\nI waited. A lifetime of doing things worth getting into heavens. Rejected. He sighed and shook his head. \n\n\n\n\"We choose based on merit, not on application. You are just the same as everyone else. If you say you do not belong, that's the strongest reason for you to be here.\"\n\n\n\n\"Why?\" I asked. \n\n\n\nHe ran his fingers over my name. The weight of his silence hung like a drop of rain on a window. \n\n\n\n\"Humility,\" he said. \"Humility makes good deeds heroic.\"\n\n\n\n\n---------------\n\n\nIf you like my writing style, /r/Schoolgirlerror has a lot more or [here is another recent story about Valhalla](https://redd.it/4ts1p1)",
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{
"content": "[WP]When you die you find out heaven is real. Well actually all versions of heaven are real and you apply for them like colleges, you get denial letters and can transfer. You may not get into Catholic heaven, Mormon heaven, or Muslim heaven, but you may be a shoe in for Valhalla.\n\nFriends and I were talking about this last night and thought it would be an interesting afterlife. ",
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{
"content": "\"Hey. So, where are you applying?\" \n \nSarah looked up from the stack of letters on her lap to see a head full of scruffy brown hair poking through her door. The boy it belonged to was tall and somewhat lanky, with a face full of brown freckles that made him look far younger than he actually was. Despite all of this, Sarah had heard some girls call him attractive - not that she could understand what they saw in him. \n\n\"You know, Jacob, you could really learn to knock.\" \n\nHe grinned sheepishly, face turning crimson under the freckles. \"Sorry. Whoa, you got mail? I didn't even know we COULD get mail! Whatcha get?\" \n\nShe rolled her eyes as he waltzed in without waiting for an invitation. \"A few letters from prospective afterlives, actually. Seems a few of them think I am worth headhunting. Here, you got some too.\" She tossed a pile of letters from her desk at his chest, so he had to flail a bit trying to catch them. \n\n\"Awesome!\" He exclaimed, letters dripping from his arms. \"Looks like...I can go for Buddhist reincarnation. That sounds pretty cool!\"\n\n\"Everyone gets that letter!\" Sarah laughed, showing him my own in its dusty orange envelope. \"Here, read their motto.\" \n\n\"Enlightenment shines in every heart...well, at least they are positive about it! You get in anywhere cool?\"\n\n\"Hmm...well, looks like I can apply for the Catholic afterlife, 'cause I got baptized when I was little. Heaven sounds like a blast! I hear that their entrance exams are literal hell though.\"\n\nJacob shuddered at that one. \"Yeah, maybe not then. Anywhere else worth mentioning?\"\n\n\"Well...aside from a few other east Asian religions I don't know about...\" She lifted a crimson envelope to her mouth, address obscured against her face. \"I did get this.\" \n\n\"Val...halla?\" Jacob said, reading out the runes as she turned the envelope over. \"Like, the Norse one?\" Sarah nodded eagerly. \n\n\"Usually it gets reserved for the greatest of warriors, but by the looks of it they are getting a bit of flack for not having enough diversity. It's apparently a real sausage fest.\" She blushed a little and looked away. \"I think...I think I am going to apply. The idea of eating, drinking, and bashing skulls appeals to me.\" \n\nJacob laughed. \"That's so like you. You were always beating me up when we were kids.\" He sifted eagerly through his own letters, but when no flash of red appeared he looked a bit crestfallen.\n\n\"Oh...I didn't get one of those. I was...kind of hoping I could go with you.\"\n\nThis time, they both turned as red as the letter in Sarah's hands. \n\n\"...Well, you could always apply?\" She eventually stammered, still not looking at him. \"And if you don't get in right away...there is always next year?\" \n\n\"Yeah. I guess.\"\n\n\"And...I don't have to go right away. We could...wait it out. Limbo isn't so bad, after all.\" Jacob looked up, his trademark grin flashing across his face. \n\n\"Don't get the wrong idea.\" Sarah smirked, an evil look creeping into her eyes. \"I am still going to go eventually, whether you get in or not. I just know you don't stand a chance without a little...*training*.\" \n\nJacob gulped, suddenly looking a bit unsure. \"Um. Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.\"\n\n\n***\n\n*Baka. CC appreciated, and if you enjoyed reading this you can find more of my work at /r/TimeSyncs!*\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
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2016-07-23T08:15:46 | 2016-07-23T08:04:20 | 1,757 | 240 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have just let loose a string of vulgarities so potent that the patron saint of cursing has decided to personally pay you a visit to tell you to calm down.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The entire room stared at me with wide eyes, some covering their mouths, others whispering to each other. I could feel their judgement hot upon my neck.\n\n\"Dude... there are *kids* here...\" my opponent said, rubbing his eyes. \"Why would you say that?\"\n\nI was too furious to respond, and thankfully, I didn't have to. We all recoiled as a blinding glow of white light emanated from ever crack and corner of the room, as if the drywall were luminous, and people started screaming with terror.\n\nThe light suddenly quit, revealing a floating, homeless man. \"Hello, my child.\" He was staring straight at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.\n\n\"What the *fuck*?\" I shrieked.\n\n\"Shh shh, shh... do not be so vulgar, young one. You must settle yourself down.\"\n\nI turned to my friend, who also looked like his colon had evacuated his anus. \"Dude, did you lace the pizza?\"\n\nThe homeless man responded for him. \"I am the Patron Saint of vulgarities, and I am here at the behest of your words just a moment ago.\"\n\nMy friend started slapping me. \"*You fucking broke the world, you cursed so much*!\" He then got up and ran out of the house, which just happened to be his own.\n\n\"Why did you let loose such a filthy phrase?\" the glowing man asked, voice smooth like Country Crock.\n\n\"I... I was in first place, then my friend got a blue shell in third place and fucking took me out to win the match by one point.\"\n\nThe angel's face contorted. \"Who the fuck gets a blue shell in third place? The fuck kind of game is this?\"\n\nI raised my arms up at him. \"Right?! You see what I mean?!\"\n\nHe held his arms out toward a cup next to me, and it filled with water. \"You have earned this, my child. Drink it.\"\n\nI looked at it oddly. \"I'm not thirsty.\"\n\n\"It is not to quench thy thirst.\"\n\n\"Eugh,\" I exclaimed with repulsion, sniffing the cup. \"Is this liquor??\"\n\n\"I'm the fucking Patron Saint of cursing, kid. Drink your tequila and calm those nerves.\"\n\n------\n\n*as inspired by the 2 liter bottle of tequila in my fridge, if y'all are bored check out /r/resonatingfury!*",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have just let loose a string of vulgarities so potent that the patron saint of cursing has decided to personally pay you a visit to tell you to calm down.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"Fuck, cunt, shit, fuck, ass fucking, cunt rubbing, FUCK!\" Harold exclaimed as a grunt mech decimated his Hannibal scorpion with one shot. Harold's tirade was so loud it warranted a visit from one of the neighbors. \n\nHe answered the door and kindly told them that he was just a tad angry and they went on their way, but as Harold turned to go back to his chair another knock rattled the entire door frame. This knock was so loud that Harold thought he might draw insurance on it, and then another hit. \"For FUCKS SAKE! WHO IS IT!\" Harold belted. \"Open the cunt fucking door, Harold\" came from a disembodied voice. \n\nHarold crept toward the door while muttering every curse word in the book. \"Who's there?\" He yelled sheepishly, like a cliche horror movie. \"Fucking cunt, Harold. I'm not fucking going to ask again.\" Harold could now make out a distinct English accent. As Harold neared the door, he could make out the tapping. It was a like long fingernails clicking the door in rhythm, 1-2-3-4 1-2-3-4. His hand touched the doorknob and it was incredibly warm, but not hot enough to warrant an immediate removal of his hand.\n\n\"FUCKING HELL, HAROLD, JUST OPEN THE CUNT-RIDDEN DOOR!\" Harold had just noticed that whoever it was knew his name already. Harold wasn't a popular guy, he kept to himself, had a good job, and didn't have a girlfriend, so who could it be? Harold finally opened the door to an average sized man in a $3000 suit with hazel eyes. \n\n\"Nice to finally lay eyes on you, Harold.\" The man stated very calmly. \"This guy has never seen me before?\" Harold thought to himself. \"I've come because I could hear your tirade from miles under Earth's surface. I've come to tell you how TERRIBLE you are at cursing. You are extremely verbose and your word choice needs an upgrade. Would you like some lessons?\" The man inquired. \"And how much would cursing lessons cost me?\" Harold asked. The man looked at him very quietly and said \"Your soul.\"\n\nThat night the neighbors were kept awake, but only to listen to a new string of curse words that they had never heard before. \n",
"role": "assistant"
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2016-10-31T09:49:43 | 2016-10-31T07:41:33 | 30 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] For many years, Canadians have maintained their inhuman friendliness by channeling all of their animosity into their geese. Now though, something is wrong.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"Want to see something unusual, honey?\" said Wanda. \"The egg Gilberta laid today morning was much bigger than usual.\"\n\n\"Show me, my pet,\" said Vikram, and she did. Vikram shifted it from one hand to the other, turning it around and upside down. The egg was the size of a large water balloon and so perfectly oval it looked 3-D printed. Vikram held it up to his ear and rattled it like a magic-8 ball. He gave it a little sniff. \n\n\"Interesting,\" he murmured. \"Let's see if it actually holds up.\"\n\nThe omelette thus created was large enough to feed both man and wife. \n\n\"That, was, delicious,\" sighed Vikram with satisfaction, mopping up the last of the egg yolk with white bread and giving a hearty belch. \"I wonder what could have happened. They're usually not so big.\"\n\n\"Did you yell at her enough yesterday?\" asked Wanda with concern.\n\n\"I think so,\" said Vikram thoughtfully. \"I told her to twist her ugly black neck into a knot and die. I even called her a non-migratory, shit-eating, worm-fucker.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I called her mother a duck.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Wanda. \"That's all very well, but did you kick her?\"\n\nVikram smacked his head.\n\n\"That's it!\" he cried. \"I forgot to kick the sunnuvaduck!\"\n\n\"Maybe that explains it,\" said his wife quietly. \"Maybe since you were so nice to her... her egg came out larger.\"\n\nThey both contemplated each other for a while, both thinking the same thing.\n\n\"Gilberta,\" cooed Vikram, stepping into the barn five minutes later, with his wife in tow. \"Gilly, Gilly, Gilly! Where are you?\"\n\nGilberta the goose was roosting peacefully on a pile of hay. The moment the beam of light from the open alley doors broke the floor, her eyes flew open. As she saw the familiar silhouettes enter, she gave a squawk and flopped away into a corner, wondering why her regular evening beating had been shifted to morning all of a sudden.\n\n\"Oh, no, no, no, no!\" simpered Vikram, slowly bearing down upon the terrified bird. \"Daddy's not here to hurt you! Daddy has a gift for you!\"\n\nGilberta doubted it. She pressed herself against the back of the wall, feathers exploding off her neck in fear.\n\n\"You're scaring her!\" hissed Wanda. \"Idiot!\"\n\nVikram held up his hands as a gesture of faith.\n\n\"No tricks,\" he said. \"No whip either! C'mere, little goosey! C'mere! Aren't you a beautiful little goose?!\" \n\nThe goose began to calm down. This was new.\n\n\"You're a beautiful little goosey, aren't you?\" said Vikram, drawing nearer. \"The queen of gooses everywhere!\"\n\n\"Geese,\" came a weary voice behind him.\n\n\"Geese, I meant,\" said Vikram hastily. He was now close enough to tickle the goose under the beak, which he did with great dexterity. \n\nGilberta seemed to love it. She cocked her head to a side and blinked lazily up at him. It reminded Vikram of his wife at night. He also knew this to be an okay.\n\n\"Geese like you aren't one in a hundred,\" whispered Vikram in what he assumed was Gilberta's ear, \"They're one in a million.\"\n\nGilberta clicked her beak twice. \n\nThis is going to happen, thought Vikram, gulping. He couldn't believe it. Before he knew what was happening, they were nuzzling nose and beak. He could very likely get a zoonotic disease from this. But if it worked, it would be very well worth it. Behind him, his wife was shearing her fingernails on her chattering teeth. The goose gave his nose an impatient nip.\n\n\"Fuck it,\" thought Vikram, and he took the goose's quivering beak into his mouth whole. And massive, solid-gold eggs began to machine-gun out of the goose's bottom, smashing through the walls of Gilberta's pen and denting the back of the barn, before piling up in heavy clinks on the straw-strewn floor, the spoils of a gambit that had paid off spectacularly.",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] For many years, Canadians have maintained their inhuman friendliness by channeling all of their animosity into their geese. Now though, something is wrong.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "they call me the conduit. i always thought something more sci fi sounding would be better. like the medium. or the link. maybe just link. nah that sounds like a video game character.\n\ndoctor rajesh said i should record everything in this journal every day. it's getting harder to concentrate so i'm glad it's all voice and i don't have to type or nothing. \n\nat first it was little stuff. people being cross with each other like they'd missed their morning coffee. then people weren't saying sorry if they got bumped into by someone else. they started glaring like... like.... americans.\n\nit's so shiny. i know it will work.\n\ni tried. i really tried. i focused my energy on the geese like i always did. taking all the negative energy from the people and putting it into the geese had always worked; they flew south, broke a few snowbirds arms with their wings and bit a few people, and a nation's collective frustrations were gone. but i couldn't reach them. \n\ndoctor rajesh says there are less of them now. they fly south and some of them try to cross the new wall and get zapped by the field. i push and i push but there are less and less of them to put the energy into. its building up.\n\nthat's why i need it. i can keep drawing the energy out of the people and into me but one little push and it will all come out and into the air and float up and not hurt anyone. it will be better than the geese.\n\ni need one of those fancy rooms like that bald guy in the wheelchair. then i could push harder. get the energy out. then the people won't be so mad all the time. but doctor rajesh says that's just in comic books and the only reason i'm a good conduit is because of the accident. they don't know how it works and can't ample- ampplif- can't make it stronger.\n\nso i'm gonna do it myself. one push and it's all out. like a lightning rod.\n\ni'm so glad doctor rajesh's wife got him that new shirt. they don't let me have sharp things but a sharp thing is what i need to push. he didn't even notice the pin still in his sleeve but i saw it shine when it fell to the floor. it's nice and long. perfect for what i need.\n\nthe geese are happier now but the people are mad. i gotta do this so the people can be happy.\n\nit looks even sharper when you look at it straight on. like looking down the barrel of a gun but all pointy.\n\nthis is gonna hurt.\n\ni gotta do this.\n\nall the people are mad and it keeps getting worse.\n\ni'm the conduit.\n\nthe link.\n\nall this energy is going around in my head and i gotta get it out. this will get it out.\n\ni wish i had two then i could do both eyes.\n\noh jeez. oh god. aaaaah i keep blinking! i can't blink or it'll go in crooked. hold the lids open with one hand and push with theooooooh god this hurts!\n\ni could feel it pop through the clear part. nnnngh... just push. gaaaah ithurtsithurtsithurts... i can feel stuff coming out now but it's just liquid not the energy yet.\n\nmaybe if i go faster like taking off a bandaid. aaaaaaah its so shiny even inside me now i see all kinds of spots and starts and stuff maybe it'll be like that when the energy comes out like in some kids show just whoosh a beam of sparkles and light and aaannnnnnnngh! it won't go why won't it go it... it... it's stuck on my skull just gotta work it around a bit find the nerve hole 'cause the energy is in my brain gotta make a hole to my brain and i only have a third of it in gotta push harder\n\nunfff... there's the hole. gah. ow. oh fuck the light is spinning is that me? no its the alarm. they're coming. they're gonna try to stop me. they see the blood and think i'm hurting myself but i just want the energy to get out. from them through me and out to the sky it'll work it's gotta work and the geese and people can all be happy and push harder now they're coming pushpsupushitburnsohgoditburnsnowtheshoveand - \n\n*recording ends*\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-01-31T04:10:26 | 2017-01-31T03:59:20 | 218 | 122 | [
{
"content": "[WP] \"This is not my job! This is the exact opposite of my job!\" screamed the grim reaper as the human went into labour.\n\nInspired by a post I saw on the internet about the grim reaper in sims in the same situation.\n\nedit: Holy Thread Batman! did not expect this to blow up at all. \n\nedit 2:So many good stories I can't keep up! really warms my heart that the community accepted this prompt.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"This is not my job! This is the exact opposite of my job!\" screamed the grim reaper as the human went into labour. \n\n\"but surely you must have something within you. Some humanity left.\" she pleaded. \n\n\"I was never human to begin with.\" he said. \n\n\"We were born together, me and life, fraternal twins. Some think I'm from the devil and her heavenly but no. I am just as ethereal as life.\" \n\nThe place was littered with bodies from the war, Death had collected her husband the night before within the town and her mother wasn't going to make it because within the hour she would be executed by the rebels for walking without any money. \n\n\"Surely, are you a stone that you do nothing as I suffer?\" she asked in tears. \n\n\"Miss, you are not the first and you are not the last to be in this predicament. You will die, your child will die before coming out and there will be no life to begin with.\" \n\nDeath could see her hourglass there were only five minutes left. As he got his scythe ready he heard the sound of her pushing. \n\nAn audible \"shit.\" escaped him. He could see the child's head coming out. The child would probably have a tiny hourglass. Only a few hours at best to taste this world before it was no longer of this world. \n\n\"I think she deserves some more time brother.\" he heard the melodious voice say. Life had appeared to do her job. She hovered over him with her buxom figure gazing shamefaced at him. \n\n\"Not today, sister.\" he said rising up. He was still upset over her giving Agnes the Witch extra time. He was not one to do a job twice. \n\n\"I think today,\" Life moved to add more sand to Mistrin's hourglass. \n\n\"I said no.\" Death struck out at life who dodged faster then her large frame was expected to. \n\n\"This is my job. I understand you don't like, it but it is what it is. No extras, not today. I wait for no man, woman, or child.\" \n\nLife absorbed the shock of being struck at quite quickly. She then stood up to her full height and lunged at Death. A brief scuffle ensued as the two fought to both do their job. Life was stronger but Death had a weapon. Mistrin's hourglass stood by her the last grains trickling in. Life managed to cease Death in a chokehold. She was trying to take his scythe away when the threw it at Mistrin. It sliced her neck, the palpitating breath ceased and her muscles relaxed. \n\nShe collapsed a bloody mess her child still wailing. Life rushed to the child. Death waited as the the grey smoke of her soul started to rise out of her. It formed her face. A face of anguish. \n\n\"NOOOO!!!\" She yelled out. She tried to get back in. To even Death's surprise her muscles contracted. Once more she started pushing. Control of physical objects was something only some ghosts mastered over a year. For her to posses her body as so. It must have taken all her effort. \n\n\"The Chest is almost out!\" life said. They could see the child's hour glass forming. \n\n\"No!\" Death yelled. He grabbed hold of Mistrin's soul by the neck and started to yank her out. \n\n\"Why !\" life yelled. \n\n\"I need to do the introductions.\" \n\n\"It can wait!\" she yelled at him. She held Mistrin's leg tighter and into her life's own essence flowed, Mistrin's ghost was invigorated. Just enough to give a few more seconds of fight. Death pulled at her when suddenly her soul dissolved. Death fell back as her body went limp. \n\n\"What did you do?\" life asked still not moving. \n\n\"Me? That was you.\" Death said rising. An argument ensued and with neither party ready to take the blame Death rose to go to his next victim. \n\n As Death was about to rise a wail pierced the night. It was so loud even Death had to cover his ears. He looked down to see life as astonished as the child started to cry. With only the feet left the child defiantly slithered out determined to come into this world without anyone's help. \n\n\"What have we done?\" Life asked. The child was flailing but the hourglass did not appear. It faded, turning into its bare soul, then it became or flesh and bone once more . It flickered between human and ghost it's wailing a staccato of sacrilege. \n\n*** \n\nIn the heavens Gabriel stirred awake. \"What is that racket?\" He looked around but there was no one. He walked to the other angels to find that they too could hear the fluctuating wails and had spread out to find it. \n\nIn hell Satan shifted uneasily in his seat. He sensed the birth of something unlike him. Something powerful, something unloved. He could hear the wails as did the demons. At once they scattered to find the source of the crying. Hopefully they could silence it. \n\n*** \n \n/r/pagefighter. \n \n\n \n ",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] \"This is not my job! This is the exact opposite of my job!\" screamed the grim reaper as the human went into labour.\n\nInspired by a post I saw on the internet about the grim reaper in sims in the same situation.\n\nedit: Holy Thread Batman! did not expect this to blow up at all. \n\nedit 2:So many good stories I can't keep up! really warms my heart that the community accepted this prompt.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "He'd come for the man lingering through the final stage of cancer next door, really. But then he heard the woman's cries - a high, continuous note of agony that called to him. She was bleeding out fast, despite everything the doctors were scrambling to do.\n\nHe would see her first. The man wouldn't die for an hour, yet. \n\nThe woman saw his approach and sensed what he came to do. Meredith King. He knew her name as he knew everything about her, right down to the agony that was ripping through her body at this moment. He knew them all, in the end. He saw the unease flicker in the doctor's eyes as Meredith spoke to him, no doubt dismissing her rambling as delusion. \n\n\"Please. Get my baby out,\" she pleaded. \"Please, please. You can't take Ian, too. Not now, not yet, I beg you.\"\n\nHe paused, and reminded her: life and all its intricacies were the opposite of what he did.\n\n\"Try,\" she panted, her face screwed up with determination to speak. \"You're powerful, I know that. You can do this - you can save him.\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to tell her he could not, that to touch a human was to claim them. But somehow, he was reaching forward to brush a finger against the child, to pull him from his mother's failing body. \n\nThe little human's eyes were unusually clear and blue, and staring right at him. Fascinating. Only the dead ever met his gaze, but the little thing was taking shallow, rapid breaths. The human doctor had fled with a scream at the sight of the baby floating in mid-air. A mistake. He should leave. One doctor's account would be dismissed as madness. More would raise questions.\n\n\"Thank you,\" the woman on the bed breathed, and closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Foolishness, when the child would surely die soon, merely by touching him. That's what he did to them.\n\nHe waited, but the child only smiled, evidently still quite alive. Death reaped the woman's soul thoughtfully, balancing her child on a spare arm. He had to do something, soon. His work in this hospital wasn't done yet, why, the old man was waiting to die as he dithered here -\n\nThe child's face screwed up as he worked over the mother, and he began to cry. \n\nHuman footsteps were approaching, running towards this room. They couldn't take the baby. He hadn't decided what to do with it yet. Any human he touched were his, after all, weren't they?\n\nIn his panic, Death faded from the human realm, taking the baby with him into the void by obscuring it in his vast cloak. He landed in his own garden, distractedly wondering what to feed the baby. Was there any human food left in his domains?\n\n\"That doesn't belong here,\" he heard a voice from one of the benches. A man clad all in white, burning bright eyes fixed on the human.\n\n\"Oh. It's You,\" Death said, feeling an absurd need to clutch the baby closer. *He* rarely visited for pleasant reasons. \"I'll - uhm, take this back soon. I panicked.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" He said, coming closer and smiling a little at the human. \"And left a man alive on Earth who should have come to me, in your panic. A lapse of duty, I would say.\"\n\n\"I'll take him back,\" Death hissed, but He just shook his head.\n\n\"Balance, my old friend. You left a life that should have been taken, and saved another that should have died with its mother. What shall we do to repair this lapse?\"\n\nBefore Death could say another word, that bright finger had pressed on the baby's forehead, leaving a shadowy mark. The same that had been etched into Death's own for eons. Binding the child to this realm.\n\n\"Keep him,\" He said. \"Raise him as an...well, apprentice, let's say. I can always make use of him then, if you should fail in your duties again. Don't forget that you were once human, too.\"\n\nDeath kept his silence as He turned, and made His way out of the realm of death.\n\nHe knew he should be horrified. He had just implied that the child could replace him one day, after all. Instead, he felt a curious relief at the baby's weight in his arms, alive and well and still human, despite that black mark on its face. Punishment, he reminded himself. This was punishment. But as the garden filled with the sound of Ian's quiet burbling, it felt strangely like a reward. The garden had always been a rather lonely place. And besides, it felt right. Any human he touched *was* his to claim - but perhaps it didn't have to be through death alone.\n\nMost people who looked upon Death would describe something akin to a wide grin stretched across his face, if they could have lived to tell the tale. Only a baby was there to witness his first true smile in millennia, as he reached forward with a soft gurgle of delight and touched Death's hand.\n\n-------------\n\nHope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-02-23T05:53:42 | 2017-02-23T02:14:42 | 285 | 167 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Scientists invented a pill that enables dogs to fully speak and understand English. It lasts for ten minutes, and will only work one time. You give a pill to your 12 year-old Border Collie, whom you've had since they were a pup. Your dog immediately says \"Alright, listen very carefully...\"",
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"content": "\"Alright, listen very carefully,\" Shinzo said. My ears raised up like his would at the sound of sausages hitting his bowl. Naturally I listened.\n\n\"You have two minutes to escape before your roommate comes home and kills you. I've been watching him for weeks and he's been planning your murder down to the smallest detail. Believe me, the cops won't even know who did it.\"\n\nI swallowed dry saliva. \n\n\"Why would he kill me!\" I yelled to my dog. The canine sat unworried on his hindlegs and looked at me with his big brown dog eyes.\n\n\"There's no time,\" he stood up and barked. \"The best way out is through the balcony!\"\n\n\"Shit!\" my heart started racing. I ran over to the balcony door and slid it open. \"Well come on let's go!\"\n\n\"No. This is my fate,\" he said. I turned back to get him but his growl stopped me, \"we have watched each other grow and have shared many things together. But I'm tired of running. I have lived a double life for too long now and I'm old and sick. Go on without me, friend. I will miss you... You have about 30 seconds......\" \n\nThe questions mounted in my head. All I wanted was to hear my dog speak and maybe have a conversation with him. Now I was torn between the decision to leave my dog--my friend--to whatever fate awaited him and taking him with me to an uncertain life. What to do?\n\n\"GO!\" he barked louder and meaner than I've ever heard him! I teared up, slid the door open and jumped out the balcony from the second floor.\n\nAs I ran out towards the street I saw my roommate's car pull up and park. He got out and walked decisively towards the apartment. The tears ran down my face now. I stopped. I couldn't leave my best friend all alone. Whatever was going to happen I'd defend him even if it meant my life.\n\nI sprinted up the stairs and saw the apartment door half opened. I burst through ready to fight for both our lives. My roommate sat there stunned ready to swing. I lunged towards him ready to punch him out and save my friend. Just then Shinzo jumped from behind the counter and knocked both of us to the ground and ran towards the door.\n\n\"Haha, later suckers!\"\n\nBoth of us sat up and looked at each other.\n\n\"What the hell man!\" he said.\n\n\"What the hell with you!\" I shot back.\n\n\"Dude did Shinzo just talk?\" he asked. \n\n\"Yeah and he said you're planning my murder!\" My roommate sat with a confused contorted look on his face. Just then I realize I've been duped.\n\nBoth of us get up and shoot for the door. And standing at the top of the stairs is Shinzo with what I imagine to be a grin on his big dog Collie face, taunting us to go after him. So we do. And as we're running after him all down the green hill behind the apartments I'm yelling out.\n\n\"What the hell dog! What are you doing?!\"\n\nAnd yelling from behind he keeps barking, \"I live a quarter of what you live, and we never have fun anymore! You're always working! Come on chase me a little, let's have some fun!\" \n\nIn that second, all anger for my dog melted away and I remembered the joy of having such a pure friendship. My roommate kept running after him happier than I've ever seen him. \n\n\"Dude, Shinzo is talking! That's so awesome!\"\n\n\"Yeah I am awesome! So chase me assholes! Bet you can't catch me!\"\n\nWe chased him and eventually caught up with him and for the little time we had we talked. For all three of us that was the best day of our lives. \n",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] Scientists invented a pill that enables dogs to fully speak and understand English. It lasts for ten minutes, and will only work one time. You give a pill to your 12 year-old Border Collie, whom you've had since they were a pup. Your dog immediately says \"Alright, listen very carefully...\"",
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"content": "\"Alright, Listen VERY carefully, I've been trying to tell you this for months now, but there is something very dangerous lurking in the back yard. It's been stalking you for months, unseen, unheard by you and apparently.. and this is something I can't understand, unSMELLED by you. I love you human, but you've got to take this threat very seriously because it's going to strike now that it knows that you know that it's there. Please, let me out into the backyard and stay indoors until I scrape the window with my paw.\"\n\nAnd with that, I let Mary out into the backyard, she immediately started sniffing around and growling as she always did when she was out doing her business. But this time, it gave me chills. \n\nI got my dads old shotgun that I'd saved in case a bear or something ever came around. Sure I wasn't living in the sticks, but I wasn't exactly in the city either. The possibilities flitted through my mind, one more worse than the other. I loaded a couple of shells into it, cocked it and felt slightly more secure, I hadn't fired the thing in ages, but I still remember my instructors words \"always keep your hand off the trigger until you're ABSOLUTELY sure you're going to fire at something\"\n\nBut my trigger finger itched. Mary still hadn't come back after five minutes, so I decided to start looking for her. The underbrush was dense and the trees were pressing in on me from all sides.\n\nI found her in a clearing a few minutes later, frantically digging at something in the ground, I kept my shotgun down towards the ground and slowly walked forward. The moon faintly illuminated the clearing as I got closer and closer to the growing mound of dirt that she was throwing up behind her, she was digging like mad and when she noticed me standing next to her, she stopped and barked at me and gave me a long look. Apparently the pill had worn off. \n\nI looked into the hole she'd produced, there wasn't anything special about it, just dirt... and .. nothing else. Mary kept digging for a while, but then seemed to perk her ears at something. I resisted the urge to point my shotgun towards the bush she was staring at. Then she started walking slowly towards the bush and she growled in a way I'd never heard her growl before. Before I knew it, she'd rushed into it barking like a madman and I yelled at her to stop, but she was well beyond listening to me at this point. I heard her rusting through the underbrush and then.. a sharp whining sound from her and after that, silence. \n\nI went absolutely crazy, I stormed through the threes, brushing them aside, not caring how they tore the skin on my face and my arms. MY DOG WAS IN DANGER! was all that was going through my mind and I kept my shotgun at the ready, intent on blasting whomever had hurt my dog into the world beyond this one. When I finally caught up with Mary, she was lying on the ground and she seemed so small for some reason.. I looked down at her.. and that's when I heard a branch snap behind me. \n\nBefore I knew it, it had struck the first of many devious blows at me. My leg was lost, there wasn't anything I could do but try to maintain my composure as I heard it voice it's satisfaction at me by going \"meow, meow, meoooww\" as it playfully bit into my leg. Mary woke up and barked at it, I told her shush and despite her protests, this was the night that Mister Assassin-Mittens came into our lives. \n\nMary still pretends to hate it, but I can tell she's loving it when it makes it's bed on her back when she's sleeping in her bed. ",
"role": "assistant"
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2017-04-29T04:54:06 | 2017-04-28T23:00:16 | 21 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] One night, something grabs your hand as it hangs off the edge of the bed. You give it a firm handshake. \"You're hired,\" it whispers.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "The young man shook in fear, succumbing to reality at an extensive rate.\n\n\"Who's there?! Who said that?!\" he yelled at the top of his lungs whilst parading out of his bed. He tripped over his slippers as he walked towards the light-switch and felt a bump to the chin, he lifted himself up and urged himself to complete his mission.\n\nNo longer surrounded by darkness, the light lit the room, but with no one to be seen except himself.\n\n\"I must be having those crazy dreams again. I really need to start recording my room at night.\"\n\nHe moved his hand up to the light-switch and pressed his finger lightly against it, slowly turning it from on, to off. As soon as the light dipped out, a black-draped figure appeared in-front of him and lit a crooked smile, a smile of which presented little teeth.\n\n\"You're coming with me.\" was all that was picked up by the young man's ears. \n\nSuddenly, he was surrounded by darkness. He tried to open his eyes, but that was all it was, dark. Engulfed by the night of this sudden inky blackness.\n\nHe blinked, and with it, he saw color. The color red. \n\nFire lit the distance, flames hindered the many dark, tall buildings now surrounding him.\n\n\"This world is sadly dying. I heard your call, and thank you for the sentiment. It is now your job to be the Guardian of the Underworld. My time is up, the rule-book is in the cabinet. Good luck.\"\n\nWith these words, the black-draped figure disappeared and left the young man by himself, to suffer for all eternity as the Guardian of the Underworld. \n\nHe entered his new home, which was coincidentally where he was teleported to and ventured to the cabinet he had been told about, took the rule book and began to read.\n\n> Rule A: The only chance of returning to the human world, is if someone dreams of being what you are.\n\n",
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{
"content": "[WP] One night, something grabs your hand as it hangs off the edge of the bed. You give it a firm handshake. \"You're hired,\" it whispers.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "and so such was life now. an endless chore for an unknown employer. nothing was ever needed again. nothing was ever needed to be done. existence was the job. each and every day played out just as the monotony of a dayjob. and each day was a shift in a dayjob. each day carried the burden of dread, of uncertainty of purpose. rarely was a day fulfilling, but when it was, the following one was that much heavier a burden. \nthe days all began at 8:35 am, an alarm sounding. at 8:45 a shower was taken with coffee to be drunk at 8:55 which had begun to brew at 8:40. and every day began so. \nthe in between, the 9 to 5, was never clearly defined. there were no guidelines for his position. \"you're hired,\" the words haunted him. every day an attempt to fulfill obligation unbeknownst to all except that which he had shaken hands with. \nmhis life from the night of january 18, 2016 was to be this: an exhibition observing what a man would do when he had no idea of what to do. every day he would try to appease his employer, which provided him with all the food, clothing, and money deemed necessary. the man never went hungry, never dressed as a person of poor means, and never came short when a bill was due. all he needed was provided. the man was simply to live. and this produced a man who felt unworthy of life. \nthe man never struggled. comfort was an anxiety. what had he done to deserve this, he thought, what was he doing? the conceivable answer was nothing. simply put, the man had done nothing. and in this he felt not a great shame, but a great sense of duty. he must earn what he was being given. he must, if not for himself, do something for the greater good. this was what the undefined 9-5 was to be: work for the greater good, but, as all wise women and men have said, the road to hell....\n",
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2017-04-29T01:30:39 | 2017-04-28T23:36:59 | 18 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] One night, something grabs your hand as it hangs off the edge of the bed. You give it a firm handshake. \"You're hired,\" it whispers.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I don't know why Alan Sugar was hiding under my bed that night, he probably had his own reasons. \n\nPerhaps it was his visual likeness for Sid James that inspired him to be naughty and hide under there in anticipation of seeing something he shouldn't.\n\n\"Do you often do this Alan?\"\n\n\"You're hired!\"\n\n\"You said that already Alan\"\n\n\"You're hired!\"\n\nThat was the last time Sugar was allowed out of the nursing home that year.\n\nPoor Lord Sugar.",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] One night, something grabs your hand as it hangs off the edge of the bed. You give it a firm handshake. \"You're hired,\" it whispers.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I don't let go after during the shake and I ripe what is attached to my hand up on the bed. It's a leprechaun. If it can shake a persons hand say they're hired and the person excepts, then they switch lives. But if the leprechaun is caught while trying to make this deal, he has to grant one wish. I wish for the one thing I've always wanted, to become a leprechaun. ",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-07-09T12:27:28 | 2017-07-09T10:45:08 | 229 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Reincarnation is a known, common, and expected result of death. You are a bounty hunter that specializes in tracking down people who have committed suicide to escape debts or a jail sentence.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Thunder rumbled as the grey clouds lumbered across the sky. Under the relative safety of the green canopy of the forest, Jameson strode confidently through the trees, only occasionally stopping to recast the tracking spell.\n\nAs the tracking orb pulsed more fervently, Jameson became more cautious, choosing instead to move from trunk to trunk. The trees gave way to a dirt clearing, in which a small tent had been erected next to a smouldering attempt at a campfire.\n\nJameson almost felt sorry - his current target’s Link had only been triggered a few days before. Suddenly having the knowledge that in your previous life you’d been a monster dumped into your brain affected teenagers in different ways. Some gave themselves up; some killed themselves to break the chain; some ran.\n\nThe caution in his approach was justified - having access to a previous life’s memories meant that some of the targets he faced had powerful, dark magic at their disposal, wrapped in a scared, emotional shell. It was not a good combination.\n\nBut this target was probably safe - Salk’s family had confirmed that he had barely showed any aptitude for sorcery in the 15 years of his short life. The influx of DeVoort’s memories had triggered the fight or flight response - Salk had run to a place that he thought he could be safe while he processed things. This would not be the setting for an epic battle.\n\n*Probably.*\n\nJameson stopped, closed his eyes, and extended his Sense. The trees began to ring out with their customary low hum; the tent added a smooth tone. No jarring notes that would indicate a curse; no pulses of Silence to indicate Null zones. Jameson reopened his eyes and focused on the tent. “KION SALK!” he exclaimed loudly.\n\nSlowly, a disheveled teenager emerged from the tent.\n\n“Yes?” Salk said, wearily.\n\n“You know why I’m here” said Jameson. He stood, one arm raised in a defense pose, and silently prepared his combat magic.\n\nSalk sighed. “I didn’t ask for this! This isn’t fair!” He looked dejected, and hugged his body tight.\n\nJameson sympathised. “Yeah, it’s not fair. DeVoort murdered those people over a decade ago - for you it’s not even part of your history. For the families though, it’s a bitter memory. That’s why a Mark was placed on his body after his suicide, and that’s why I’m here now - I want to finally bring him to justice.”\n\nSalk sighed again. “Yeah, I know. I just thought… if I came out here… I could ignore his voice”. His voice trembled. “But it won’t stop - will it?”\n\nJameson reached into his robe and retrieved his binding chains. “No - I’m afraid not. But, I can take you to people who can help.” He gingerly started moving closer towards Salk.\n\nSalk scoffed. “You mean, put me in a prison until I die of normal causes? That kind of help?” He shook his head softly in resignation. “I guess I have no choice.” He held out his hands in surrender.\n\nAs Jameson moved in closer, suddenly Salk’s eyes flashed, and his hands began to jerk upwards into the beginnings of a casting pose. This was Jameson’s worst fear - DeVoort was asserting control.\n\nHowever, Jameson’s preparation had paid off. As soon as he saw Salk’s eyes flashing, he knelt, and slammed his open palm into the ground, channeling his Binding spell. Violet vines sprang from the dirt, piercing Salk’s arms and legs, and pulled him down to the ground. Salk cried out in pain.\n\nJameson moved over to Salk. “So, DeVoort - I guess we’re doing this the hard way then…” he commented drily, kneeling to bind his hands. Salk was too shocked to respond. Jameson stood up, then pulled out his communication glass. “I’ve bound DeVoort’s host. Requesting transport to Karthikan.” he said. \n\nThe glass hummed, then a woman’s voice spoke out. “Transport request granted. Good job, hunter. See you shortly.”\n\n-----\nThis is my first writing prompt - thought I'd give it a shot. Comments/criticism welcome; I realise I haven't really written a self contained story here, this would probably be part of a larger story.\n\nEDIT: Thankyou for all of your kind comments! :)",
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{
"content": "[WP] Reincarnation is a known, common, and expected result of death. You are a bounty hunter that specializes in tracking down people who have committed suicide to escape debts or a jail sentence.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I’m a bounty hunter. I’ve been around for about five hundred years to do my job, and sometimes I have to kill myself to acquire a stronger body when the one I’m given isn’t strong enough. You see, ‘round these parts, we don’t have a childhood anymore. Law done got rid of that years. Before I go on, let me ‘pologize for my choppy accent. I was Southern for ‘bout fifty years last time, and I haven't quite shaken the accent yet. I’m almost glad that guy killed me. ‘S too bad I gotta find him again now.\n\n Some crazy scientists figured out how to reincarnate people years ago, testing bodies and what-not; some’n to do with chemicals in the body. I don’t know that stuff, I’m only slightly above average intelligence- things like yer personality stay the same, unless there’s a defect in your reincarnation. ‘Spose you could get it back when you change again. Anyway, these scientists figured it out ‘n started playing with it, wanted to learn more, and people were offering themselves like crazy for research. There was a huge issue with morality, you can imagine. Eventually, they found a way to make it so they come back as an adult- ‘gain, I don’t know how it all works. Just know they didn’t find out what they did ‘till ‘bout a hundred years later ‘cuz the people would reincarnate so far away or not think to tell ‘em, and by then the politics and morals on it all died down and people became all fine with it. Soon enough, everyone done had it done, now the only problem is suicidal people are complaining that they can’t leave, and people get killed for fucking, what with nobody staying dead to keep the population stable.\n\n Now, there are a few problems beyond environment and emotions to deal with. We call ‘em the three E’s, and the third is economy. That’s where I come in. Some sons’ a bitches don’t wanna pay for what they did, and so they kill themselves to get out of sticky situations. Now, the people in charge don’t like that, so they hire people like me to stick around and go off finding these assholes. I’d leave the job if I had any other income to keep to one body and one home. I don’t even have any family anymore, they done reincarnated before the adult thing came along and went and grew up in new families, forgot all ‘bout me. I make some friends ‘long the way, but they all wanna go do stuff with their never ending life and half of ‘em done became anarchists. Don’t gotta work so much when ya don’t have to worry ‘bout dying, but some people still do it because they don’t like the feeling of things like starvation and dying regardless. Hear them scientists trying to do something ‘bout that to, but gov’ments don’t want ‘em changing so much that the people don’t need higher-ups anymore.\n\n So now I’ve gotta find this one guy. I’ve been searching for this fucker for about a hundred years. That’s a long time, considering most of us go and die within twenty years, either to resist becoming old, or because of all of the crazy shit going on now. Don’t wanna go getting involved in it. This guy has been fucking with everyone, he’s wanted everywhere. Can’t kill him ‘cause he just comes back and does it again. Some other guys done jailed him twice, but he found a way to kill himself both times and got away. Gov’ment don’t care because he’s not doing anything that disturbs them anymore- the gov’ment changed a lot so they can benefit from this new world. They don’t care much ‘bout moral laws anymore, more about housing and luxuries now. Not really a gov’ment at all, I’d say. Guess everything’s changed though.\n\n I’m out right now searching for this guy, in Australia. It’s a lot closer to what was Antarctica now, with all those plates or whatever they call it moving. They done made Antarctica a country, the Antarctic Kingdom, ‘cause science done solved the cold too. Anyway, rookie, you done been frozen solid for a long time for that experiment, guess they forgot about all of ‘ya, so you’re gonna have to stick with me for about a hundred years or so. At least until you learn how to live in this new world and how to ‘survive.’ Don’t mean dying, more just living nicely. Say, you look an awful lot similar to all the other reincarnations of that guy we been chasin’...",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-09-20T09:38:24 | 2017-09-20T07:41:54 | 1,501 | 341 | [
{
"content": "[WP] In this dystopian society, citizens are only allowed to say words that are on the 'approved common words' list. All other word lists must be purchased before you are allowed to say a word from them. The rich have a distinct advantage.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"Care for a drink?\"\n\nHe is grinning at me with a cocky smile, one hand leaning on my table, one pointing towards the bar in the back of the cafe.\n\nI smile at him but shake my head, motioning to the engagement ring on my finger. It's a cheap one- all me and John could afford after we had splurged on the 'Marriage' package ('Marry me', 'I do')- and it's made with a plastic stone, but it should be enough to explain what I'm trying to say.\n\n\"No,\" I say, curtly. Exaggerating a grimace to try and convey my apologies for brusque response. It's times like this when I wish I could afford the 'Manners' Package.\n\n\"Ouch. I understand though,\" he laughs. \"Thanks anyway.\"\n\nAs he saunters off, I hear him mutter: \"Wouldn't want to buy a mute-y like that a drink anyway.\"\n\nMy blood boils and I open my mouth to curse at him- but the shocking device in my tongue stops the words in my mouth with an excruciating jolt of pain. My phone buzzes with a notification.\n\n'You have tried to use a word you have not paid for. If you attempt to again in the next 24 hours, you will be fined. To purchase use of this word and others like it, you may want to buy the 'Swears' Package', for your convenience.'\n\nI bite my lip and shake my head. That's three warnings already today.\n\nAs I pay for my meal with a silent smile and throw on my coat, I ring up John. I step out into the biting cold just as he answers.\n\n\"Hello John. I love you.\"\n\n\"Hello Suzie. You bought new words?\"\n\n\"Yes. Advanced Relationship package. Dual ownership. Try!\"\n\nI hear him key the package into his phone and mutter the list of words under his breath.\n\n\"I love you,\" he says, giddily. \"Darling, Honey and p-\"\n\nI grin. Because there was another reason I had turned down the drink.\n\n\n\"Pregnant,\" I tell him.\n",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] In this dystopian society, citizens are only allowed to say words that are on the 'approved common words' list. All other word lists must be purchased before you are allowed to say a word from them. The rich have a distinct advantage.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The noise machine that tells time went off bright and early. Person 1,289,273,493 woke up and began another day. The first eating time, a shower, and the morning drive time.\n\nPerson 1,289,273,493 came to the place with the machines that make power. The work was hard but the pay was kind of not bad.\n\n“**Greetings** person 1,289,273,493!” said **Jane**.\n\n“Hello worker watching over other workers”, said person 1,289,273,493. He was sad and angry when thinking about her. She had enough money to buy a name!\n\n“I see you **wasted** your last **paycheck** again person 1,289,273,493” **Jane** said with a very sad sigh. “You know that you can’t **advance** in the company if you never buy any new words! Why, just last week I bought the **advanced adverb pack**!”\n\n“I want to talk with more than the ten hundred most used words, worker watching over other workers, I do. But I have to feed my family and the money to buy new words keeps rising.”\n\n**“Ridiculous!” Jane exclaimed.** “Words are power.”\n\n“Now, today your **assignment** is to **repair** a downed power line about 30 **miles** from here. Move along.”\n\nPerson 1,289,273,493 loved these jobs. He got be outside in the fresh air for a change. He drove the 158,400 feet to the problem, and began to look around.\n\n“A simple fix”, he thought on seeing the place. “I just need to put up a little bit of new line. But, what caused the line to fall?”\n\nPerson 1,289,273,493 looked around. When he finally saw the cause of the problem, he wished that he had stayed at home. The thing that broke the line was not allowed by the law. He knew what it was, even if he couldn’t read it. He had always dreamed of holding one of these even if someone finding him holding it meant death.\n\nThe old, torn letters on the front formed a new word – one he didn’t own. *“D – i – c – t – i –o – n – a – r – y”",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-10-18T12:24:35 | 2017-10-18T11:38:11 | 47 | 22 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A horror story where all the victims act rationally.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Hey, do you want to go check out that abandoned house tonight?\"\n\n\"Nah. It sounds like a deathtrap.\"\n\n\"It's supposed to be haunted, though.\"\n\n\"Ghost aren't real.\"\n\n\"... Okay, well, what about those creepy tunnels they found?\"\n\n\"Who is 'they?'\"\n\n\"I don't know, man! There was an article about them online!\"\n\n\"Do you mean 'them' as in the tunnels, or 'them' as in the people you called 'they?'\"\n\n\"You're no fun today.\"\n\n\"Says the guy who wants to skulk around places where we could easily break our ankles.\"\n\n\"Look, what if we brought flashlights?\"\n\n\"I didn't realize that flashlights gave people invulnerable ankles.\"\n\n\"Ugh.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"What about the old lighthouse?\"\n\n\"That might be interesting.\"\n\n\"Great! We'll wait until nightfall, and then...\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, hang on. Why would we wait until after dark?\"\n\n\"For the ambience! If we went during the day, we'd just be climbing through an old building!\"\n\n\"Sure, and we'd be much less likely to injure ourselves.\"\n\n\"The pirate captain who haunts the lighthouse only...\"\n\n\"Ghosts still aren't real.\"\n\n\"... I'm going to stab you now.\"",
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{
"content": "[WP] A horror story where all the victims act rationally.",
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},
{
"content": "Our protagonist finds himself in a dark computer lab deep in the bowels of the University library. His creative writing instructor has assigned yet another impossible task, \"write a short horror story where every character acts rationally.\" Of course it is due first thing in the morning and after finishing his shift at the gas station that leaves 6 hours to get this, his calculus homework, 8 hours of sleep, and a shower in before class. Typical Thursday night he thinks as the lights flicker for the second time. He assumes the ballast is going in the florescent fixture and ignores the distraction turning his attention to the blinking cursor on the screen. Suddenly it hits him. Creative writing is never going to pay the bills. He has a better chance of being drafted into the NBA even though he hasn't picked up a basketball in years than he does of having a true writing career. He would be lucky to make much more than minimum wage writing copy for advertising and instructional manuals. He gets up and leaves without even logging off. What was that differentiation formula from class? He might not enjoy higher math as much as the mental masturbation of creative writing but he damn sure needs to land a career where he can pay the bills. Turns out dad was right after all. He makes up his mind to declare as an engineering major the next morning.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-02-15T06:54:44 | 2018-02-15T06:04:17 | 85 | 40 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you are about to die, your main consciousness switches to alternate universe in which you survived. This makes you conscious only of the longest possible life. Uppon death, you are shown all the ways you would have died.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "An endless white void, both expansive and smothering. Two disembodied voices emerge.\n\n“Hello?”\n\n“Hello.”\n\n“Who are you?”\n\n“I am Death. \n\n“I’m dead?”\n\n“You cannot outsmart me any longer.”\n\n“Any longer?”\n\n“You have bested me many times your whole life. That life is now over. I have finally won. As I always do.”\n\n“How many times did I win?”\n\n“Countless. Each time you almost died, another version of you died. I always need a soul.”\n\n“How many times, Death? How many times did I kill another me by not dying?”\n\n“5,483.”\n\n“How did I escape you so many times?”\n\n“You are good, and honest, and guided by an inner light that you actually listen to.”\n\n“Really?”\n\n“No. You are just really lucky.”\n\n“Can you give me some examples of when I could have died?”\n\n“Remember when you flew that small plane in Africa?”\n\n“Of course. I was in control, the pilot took his hands off the other handle.”\n\n“Had you ignored the pilot’s instructions, the plane would have crashed.”\n\n“But I would have never ignored the pilot’s instructions.”\n\n“In many timelines, you did. These timelines were invisible to you, until now. Do you see them?”\n\n“I see them. I see them all. My entire life. What I thought was a straight trajectory is a crooked path along a spiderweb.”\n\n“Are you ready for the truth?”\n\n“What truth?”\n\n“You survived this long only because you could have died. Many versions of you died along the way to allow you to survive. You are only the product of endless trial and error across universes. You are the luckiest version of yourself to have lived.”\n\n“But why me?”\n\n“If you’re asking why you didn’t die in that car crash that killed your friend, or why your fire alarms were all false alarms, the answer is that it was nothing that you did. The one living in the luckiest timeline is no more deserving of their long life than a baby dying of SIDS is deserving of their short one.”\n\n“It’s all random.”\n\n“It’s all random.”\n\n“Where do I go from here?”\n\n“You can choose one of two places. One is a heaven, and one is a hell. I can’t tell you which is which. Are you ready?”\n\n“You may choose to live your luckiest life again, memories intact, but experiencing every death you escaped.”\n\n“Or?”\n\n“You will have your memories erased and you will live some version of a new life. Unlucky, or lucky, impossible to say.”\n\n“Both sound like hell to me.”\n\n“After you’ve already lived your luckiest life, everything sounds like hell.”\n\n“I suppose.”\n\n“You have an eternity to choose. Good luck.” \n\nAnd with a soundless burst, Death disappears.\n",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you are about to die, your main consciousness switches to alternate universe in which you survived. This makes you conscious only of the longest possible life. Uppon death, you are shown all the ways you would have died.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Ever heard of Déjà vu?\n\nMost would describe it as a feeling of \"being there\" before. A sense of familiarity to a scene that you are sure you have never experienced. Some attribute it precognition. Others think it's a trick of the mind, a mental anomaly. Past mixing with present. They're both wrong. The phenomenon coined as Déjà vu is nothing more than a defense mechanism to preserve your human self.\n\nSwitching, which I will dub this phenomenon, is used to make sure you survive. For example, let's say you're walking out of a cafe. You're walking down the sidewalk heading towards your destination when a car barrels towards you. In this situation, you only have seconds and yet you freeze and the car slams into you ending your life. In another world you do the same thing but this time it flashes you that sense of familiarity. You shift and the car barrels past you killing another pedestrian. You cry out. You fall down but you're okay. You're alive.\n\nSome things to note that this mechanism is purely self driven. If other people die in the vicinity, the switching wont occur. But if your life is danger then the switching. This also make us quite immortal in a way. To avoid unfortunate deaths and live long lives. But there are some questions that it brings up.\n\nWhat about the people around us?\n\nDo we live forever?\n\nJust a few of the questions that it brings up. To my understanding of the subject and some research, I subscribe to Hamilton understanding the human exist alone. While we may occupy the planet together and interact, we are truly only ourselves. Everyone are mere ghosts, imitating humanity as far as the universe is concerned because switching prioritizes self preservation. Each person lives in their own universe. If you want to learn about this and explore more of Hamilton's theory, I urge you to check out Grey Hamilton's *A Universal Constant* if you want to know more.\n\nOn the second most asked question, the answer is no. While it does give you conditional immortality and immunity to death, it is not immortality. Everyone dies. That is the reality. Some experience their life \"flashing before their eyes\" which is another phenomenon we talk about in depth next week. For now think of it like a highlight reel that shows what happened and could of happen all truncated in a few seconds. And others, nothing. We all succumb to death much like the universe will when all the stars that we look out to over a billions of year all die. Its a sobering thought surely but such is the reality. \n\nAnd with that in mind that is the basic overview of the Swithing. \n\nNow we are going to discuss its implications. For the next couple of weeks we discussing the psychological, economical and scientific applications of switching and how it could be used to help humanity. \n\nI hope you are all ready. Class begins now.",
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] |
2018-04-08T20:10:14 | 2018-04-08T20:09:22 | 1,882 | 219 | [
{
"content": "[WP] It's always God and the Devil, Yin and Yang, Good and Evil, blah, blah, blah. This endless dichotomy. But no one ever talks about the middleman—Hank. He's doing a fine job.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Sometimes he leaves a dollar on the ground for your bus faire. Sometimes he paints all the traffic lights red.\n\nSometimes Hank misses his wife, Martha. Its been colder since she passed.\n\nSometimes Hank's beagle makes him crack a smile.\n\nSometimes Hank can't get out of bed.\n\nSometimes Hank's only goal is to make us appreciate what we have. Sometimes his mission is to make us appreciate what we lost.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] It's always God and the Devil, Yin and Yang, Good and Evil, blah, blah, blah. This endless dichotomy. But no one ever talks about the middleman—Hank. He's doing a fine job.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"I'll tell you hwhat,\" Hank said as he wiped his brow. \"People need to understand the balance of good and evil. It's like dealing with propane and propane accessories. Propane is a source of happiness, a fuel for so many of life's joys. But too much propane uncontrolled can lead to catastrophe. That's why we need to make sure to regulate our propane, Bobby.\" \n\n\nI'm not a good writer but I really felt there should be a King of the Hill reference in all of this. Feel free to take it from there someone!",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2018-08-04T09:48:46 | 2018-08-04T09:44:59 | 395 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The old woman pricked her finger upon accidentally touching the tip of the needle and her blood appeared to be a gelatinous obsidian black substance, the old lady was clearly distressed and confused about how she could be so \"impure\" but little did she know, she never thanked the Bus Driver.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Turns out following the rules of god was the wrong way..\nTurns out following the Bible to a t, never wearing cotton, the whole fish thing was wrong..\nThat woman who was dying I couldn’t touch her, \nTurns out slaves where bad...\nTurns out cutting my wife’s hands off was evil.. \nI needed a moment\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-08-04T10:14:27 | 2018-08-04T10:12:33 | 134 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It was black. She stares at her fingertip in- no, not surprise, resignation - for half a second before she realises she should hide it. She wraps it quickly in her half-knit hat. “Oh, shoot,” she says, rising from her seat and smiling at the other do-gooders around her. \n\nShe walks away, trying not to rush too hard, hoping the way she clutches the hat to her hand seems like she’s applying pressure and not clinging on for her sanity- her safety. \n\nAs soon as she is locked in the security of the toilet, she eases the now ruined hat off her finger. “Fuck,” she hisses. “Fuck, shit, fuck.” Each forbidden curse feels freeing - after all, there’s no point not to, right? Her blood is so thick it looks almost as though it’s clotted already. \n\nIt’s not fair. \n\nShe grits her teeth, grips the sink so hard it feels like the bones in her fingers should shatter from the pressure. \n\nIt isn’t. \n\n*Fucking*.\n\nFair. \n\nShe learned the lesson. Her mother had scraped her knee and hadn’t worried enough to hide it. She’d been arrested that same night - preventative measures. \n\nLaura had *learned*. She’d done everything right. She’d fought her anger, her despair, the feeling that this was so unjust, and she’d been perfect. No one could do more good than her. And still, it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t done enough. \n\nWas it in her blood? Transmitted from her mother to her? Was it completely out of her control?\n\nOr was it actually still her? Her motivations were all wrong. She wasn’t doing good to be good - she was doing it so they wouldn’t think she was bad. \n\nShe pulls her hands away from the sink before any more damage is done. She can’t be reckless. \n\nDon’t actions count more? She can hardly be the only person who’s afraid of being bad. Just because she isn’t *good* doesn’t mean she’s this evil. Surely it can’t mean that. \n\nHer fingernails dig into her palm, and she can feel thick, viscous fluid beneath them. She almost gags. \n\nThere’s nothing to do but fake it. Continue faking it the same way she always has. She has to hide. ",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I felt \"different\", don't know how to explain it really. When I woke up and had my morning breakfast and coffee everything felt fine. When I left my small studio apartment, passing misses Fischer in the hallway I felt normal. Even when I reached the soup kitchen the next block over the world just felt...right.\n\nYet somehow, in this moment; nothing feels right. I feel the pangs in my stomach, the tightness in my muscles as if I haven't slept for weeks. My hands are dirty, my clothes stink and are stained so badly that I can't recall what color this shirt was supposed to be when I put it on this morning.\n\nI'm lost, sitting in an empty lot with a small shiv in one hand and a slowly bleeding finger from my other. People are avoiding me as I walk down the street, slowly stumbling and searching for any resemblance of normality. \"Oak Street\", that's, that's six blocks away from my apartment and in a completely different direction from the soup kitchen I was heading too. I reorient myself and begin the trek back home; my body tired, exhausted and spent.\n\nI stumble up the stairs to my apartment, the whole building reeks and I can barely breathe without coughing. All my neighbors doors are hanging open, TV's playing static while random cats and dogs jitter from door to door. My world begins to spin, my hands looking for purchase on anything to keep me from falling over. I collapsed to my knees and a sudden jolt of clarity hit me like a belly flop at Indian Lake.\n\nI'm not in a hallway, I'm not in my apartment building either. Everything is white, then black; and I hear a voice in the distance. It sounds like Miss Fischer, no; its more masculine. I'm starting to remember, oh god I remember!\n\nOh god no! Noooo! This is it; my last meal was served. The witnesses were called and none of my family could bare witness to the shame I caused them. They said it would be painless, I wouldn't feel a thing. So why am I awake and why do my veins burn like lava, oh god oh god.. OH god... OH GOD NOOOOO! \n\nI felt \"different\", don't know how to explain it really. When I woke up and .........",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2018-08-04T10:34:28 | 2018-08-04T10:18:07 | 45 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I always knew, since I was a baby. If I’ll be a good boy, then my blood will be white.\nI was always scared of having black blood.\n\nI must be a good boy.\n\nAround this simple principle, I built my life. And it felt good helping others. I was happy!\n\nI studied medicine because I thought no greater good exists but saving a life. \nDuring my years in university, I tried to be as helpful for my colleagues as possible. I helped everyone who would ask for it, even at the risk of being slowed down. Usually my kindness was one-way, but I didn’t care. I was happy while helping others, and all the rest didn’t matter.\n\nAfter finishing my studies, I became one of the most famous and talented surgeon in the whole country.\nBy the age of 55, I had lost count of the people I saved.\n\nHowever, one day, during a routine operation, my life completely changed.\nWhile setting up a needle, it touched the tip of my finger, and in that moment I realized I’ve never seen what the true black looks like. Until now.\n\nI saw the hole. I saw the black.\nNothing came out.\nI was shocked. I spent my life being the best possible person, but my blood was cursed. I was condemned for the rest of my life.\n\nI quit my job and started an internal journey to find the answer for my condition.\n\n\nHow could it be?\nBut then, I came to my epiphany.\n\nIt was simple. Helping others felt good. I didn’t do it because others would feel better; I did it because I would feel better. I didn’t care about the others. I was always interested in my happiness.\n\nIn trying to be the less selfish man alive, I have been the most selfish. \nAnd that was my punishment.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "At that moment, I was happy. I bring my pricked finger to my supple lips, and my tongue caresses the wound with warm tenderness. \n\nSweet. Like a strawberry lollipop.\n\nIt started off as one good deed a day. Picking up trash, volunteering at the senior home, removing hate graffiti, giving some water to construction workers. Mundane tasks. \n\n*\"Thank you for picking up garbage Sara. I want to be good like you when I grow up!\"*\n\n*\"Here again at the senior home? Someone like you should be enjoying their youth and leave old bags like us to our devices! ....But I do appreciate the sentiment.\"*\n\n*\"I see you've been the one helping me get rid of these garbage nazi symbols. What say we make some wholesome graffiti art together one day?*\n\n*\"Thanks again for the water Sara! We really appreciate it! Couldn't do our work without ya.\"*\n\nI wouldn't get complimented every time though. Only when someone notices. That moment when all the hard work you've done is recognized, after countless hours, days, weeks, months, years... The buildup to that climactic \"Thank You\" is pure ecstasy. \n\nSoon, it wasn't enough. I had to do more. Help more people. So I started helping out at the local hospital. I went to college and became a registered nurse. I double majored in writing, wrote children's books, and held free read aloud sessions at my local library. I adopted a child, two stray dogs, and a cat. \n\nAll of it just to witness their smiling faces as their words of praise and gratitude flow out like Mozart. Like a warm blanket tucked tightly around me, outlining the contours of my body. \n\nThis is who I am. This blood is the symbol of my lust, and I'll brew it until it turns to ruby.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-08-04T10:33:21 | 2018-08-04T10:24:42 | 19 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "One day James was sitting with his wife, he was cooking dinner for school children while she was knitting beanies for the homeless, when she cut herself, James sprang to his feet, \"let me help you with that\" he said. But upon reaching her, his eyes widened, her blood was pure black, he immediately begun to yell, \"what have you done\" he yelled, \"I torrented some music once\" she said, \"oh yeah\" James responded \"totally forgot that was illegal\", And they laughed it off and carried on with their day.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Our blood is naturally clear, it thickens and darkens with each impure act. You have always dedicate yourself to good and helping others but today while knitting beanies for the homeless you accidentally prick your finger. Your blood is jet black and so thick it doesn't even drip.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I stood there for a moment, as i looked at the prick on my finger from my knitting needle. Where there should have been a crystal clear fluid, somehow, a sludge of sin and immorality sat in my veins. \n\"How could this be?\" i thought. I sat there, wondering.\n\nWas i not good when i spent hours walking dogs at the animal shelter? Was i not good when i spent days giving food to the homeless? Was I not good when i spent years of my life in another country, in the middle of a war zone sacrificing everything i had for these worthless sacks of meat?! And it was all for nothing? How could it be?! How could I not be a good person?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-08-13T08:39:02 | 2018-08-13T08:20:27 | 633 | 33 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When people die they can choose whether they go to Heaven or Hell, you are the first in 1000 years to choose Hell.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“Does everyone get to choose?”\n\nThe watchman’s heart was breaking looking at the tiny child, covered in scars. They shouldn’t *be* scarred like that, not here, whatever acts caused them must have been truly despicable.\n\n“Everyone gets to choose, and none for an age have chosen that door.”\n\nThe child stops their shuffling towards the darker doorway.\n\n“Can you change your mind? Go from one to another?”\n\n“No, are you sure you want to do this child?”\n\n“Can’t be worse than before, they would never follow me here.”\n\nAs the child strode with purpose through the darkened gate, the Watchman smiled a bittersweet smile ‘no one was supposed to pass like that.’\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When people die they can choose whether they go to Heaven or Hell, you are the first in 1000 years to choose Hell.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "They’ve really pulled out all the stops. They *say* you can pick Heaven or Hell, but they forget to mention you need to be subordinate to the Big Dude. They do let you take your time, see both sides of the coin, but frankly you’d need to be a dumbass to pick heaven. \n\nWho would want to die like that? Denying yourself for this asshole. Satan doesn’t even run Hell, he just kind of hangs out there with you. It’s cold like back home, and you don’t need to answer to anyone.\n\nAll the people in Heaven are cowards. I don’t care how bad it is in Hell, I’d rather be free there than chained in Heaven\n\n**Update:** it’s been fifty years. Pick Heaven.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-08-13T09:22:44 | 2018-08-13T09:21:04 | 115 | 21 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When people die they can choose whether they go to Heaven or Hell, you are the first in 1000 years to choose Hell.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "St Peter drops his pen in surprise. “I’m sorry?”\n\nI look back. “I said, I choose Hell.”\n\n“Son, do you know what they do to you in Hell?” St Peter asked. “They beat you, and torment you, and burn you in anguish until the end of time.”\n\n“How do you know?” I ask.\n\nSt Peter sits back in his chair. He looks down at his desk, squints his eyes, then looks back. “Why do you choose Hell?”\n\n“Sir,” I start, shuffling my feet, “I’ve gone through a lot in my time on Earth. I’ve suffered through a childhood that neglected me. My upbringing was sometimes a matter of life or death at home and at school. I joined the service for a worthy cause...”\n\nSt Peter puts his hand up to stop me. “You joined the service after your childhood? Are you a glutton for punishment?”\n\n“No sir”, I explain, “I saw a worthy cause, and for the first time, I took it.” St Peter leans in, “What was it like?”\n\n“I had good times, and I had bad times.” I lower my eyes, remembering my time on Earth. “I watched men kill, and be killed. I’ve lost friends, and I have sent men to their deaths.” My eyes start to well up in tears. “For that...just for that...I deserve no peace.”\n\nI look back at St Peter as a tear falls from my eye. St Peter stands up, and hugs me. The first real hug I’ve gotten in a while. It felt weird to hug another man, but almost as if it was an automatic response, my arms fly around his body and I pull him in a tight embrace. We were there for what felt like eternity.\n\nWe finally stop hugging and I wipe tears from my eyes, nervously chuckling for crying. St Peer opens his giant golden book, signs something, then closes it. A golden gate opens up behind him as he puts his arm around me and leads me to it. \n\n“Here, in Heaven, you will know peace.”\n\n“Sir, I don’t know how to live in peace.”\n\nI look back at him as he takes his place behind the Book of Life. “You will learn, soldier.”\n\nYou will learn.\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When people die they can choose whether they go to Heaven or Hell, you are the first in 1000 years to choose Hell.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The woman in the gate couldn't believe her eyes. There was a young woman there. In Hell. By choice. And she looked at peace. How long has she seeing something like this? 1000 years? 10000? It was so unexpected that she forgot the protocol. She just stared.\n\nThe girl approached the desk with small steps, looking around with an easy look. She cleaned her throat and spoked:\n\n- Alright, where do I begin?\n\nThe woman recompose and started speaking.\n\n- You need to sign here and here, with your name and information while alive. Do you see here? It says Hell. Do you know what that means?\n\nThe young woman calmly answered.\n\n- Oh yes, I know very well. I'm the only one here, I presume?\n\n- Yes, you are. The only human in many, many years.\n\n- Okay, then. Let me fill this up.\n\n- May I ask why, thought? - asked ashamed the woman in the desk. I just never expected this in all my immortality.\n\n- Oh, of course. It is a little odd, isn't? Well. I just made a promise. \n\n- You promised to go to Hell? Who would you made such promises and why? That's just insane! You can go to Heaven and never see the people! It's Heaven! If you choose, they're be away from you for eternity!\n\n- But that wouldn't be right, would it? I made a promise and that would be cheating.\n\n- But there's actual murderers there! Bad people, who broked a lot more than a promise.\n\n- But these people are not me. And they made their choice. I made mine. - the young woman said like it was the ultimate truth. And it was. She made her choice. \n\n- Can I ask you one more question before sending you in? I know it must be annoying answering, you don't have to if you don't want.\n\n- I don't mind. I'll have eternity here anyway. What is it?\n\n- Who was the promise to?\n\n- My sister.\n\n- Your sister wanted you to go to Hell?\n\n- My sister wanted a lot of things, but never to be in the same place I was. And I love my sister more than anything alive or dead. So I came here, and she can go there.\n\nThe woman's look was the last thing the girl saw before the elevator started descending.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-09-29T03:19:39 | 2018-09-29T02:37:30 | 947 | 33 | [
{
"content": "[WP]Every intelligent, skilled or rich human has been evacuated from the Earth to avoid the alien invasion. This leaves the dregs, criminals and the poor behind on Earth to fend for themselves. Centuries later, the other return to \"liberate\" Earth only to find that they have won and prospered.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "For a long time, our history was ripe with tales of horrific treatment of our people. Slavery was rampant and we shackled ourselves to the belief that our masters were our betters. We abided by that and we survived for centuries that way. \n\nThen we woke up. We fought with the passion that had been sapped from our ancestors so long ago. We were human beings, and we would not succumb. \n\nFear was our weapon and it was wielded with cunning grace. To say we were terrified of the outcome would be an understatement, but we pushed forward and we stitched tiny truths into dramatic lies. Just enough manipulation to force our overlords to pay attention and fear for their future on our planet. \n\nIt took years.\n\nBut, eventually, it came to a head and we won. We eradicated our slavers and we did it arm in arm, hand in hand with our fellow dregs and miscreants with not a single drop of human blood being shed\n\nThey left on their own, you see. Completely wiped the planet clean of their existence with the impending threat of an alien attack if you can believe it. The richest and brightest humans fell for a \"War of the Worlds\" style coup. \n\nIt took another few centuries for them to return. In that time they had grown fat and their bones had grown weak, while we were able to band the rest of humanity together for a common good. They were bred with the belief that because they escaped, because they survived, they were the superior parts of humanity. They returned with the belief that they could save us. \n\nSo much time had passed since their \"escape\" that the tales were believed to be nothing more than fables passed on to teach our children how not to treat others. \n\nThey found us at peace. Building communities, working together, learning, and growing. They claimed to be human, but they looked nothing like us. \n\nWe only saw interstellar invaders coming after us with significant weaponry. \n\nWe defended ourselves from a perceived threat and we won with brutal precision. They should have stayed away.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]Every intelligent, skilled or rich human has been evacuated from the Earth to avoid the alien invasion. This leaves the dregs, criminals and the poor behind on Earth to fend for themselves. Centuries later, the other return to \"liberate\" Earth only to find that they have won and prospered.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "When we returned to earth, we expected to see some disgusting or terrifying things.\n\n\nA barren wasteland. Creatures- and by that I dont just mean aliens or animals, but actual humans- killing each other over mundane things. The last spark of humanity will be gone, but we can rebuild it- we thought. We will be able to return those miserable beings back to their original state, and make them live their old life again- we assumed.\n\n\nBut dear god. We didnt expect it to be this bad.\n\n\nThe humans... I can’t really explain it properly, but they seem to have fused with the alien invaders. Their bodies has holes everywhere, oozing with some strange substance. Their flesh was weirdly colourful, the eyes even took on colours I have never seen before. Their arms and feet seemingly got much more muscular, but also fairly flexible. And in the middle of their torso... Utterly horrific. At least their heads were still completely intact. That made looking at them at least a little bit more bearable. But still, it was an utterly, truly disgusting sight. These things would get their redemption, their return to full humanity. We would have to release them from their horrible earthly binds. It was the only solution.\n\n\nThe worst part? The alien creatures must have been influencing their mind too. Through the mouths of former humans, they definitly laughed at us. Pretending to be humans, they praised the „revolution“ that fused them with the supposed „redeemed aliens“. They tried to trick us into believing that this was actually the best thing the humans of earth had ever done, that their new powers were worth it. That them abandoning sleep and normal communication was a good thing, as if they could convince me. But the others... they got fooled. After my attempt at releasing the former humans... They captured me. Tried to execute me. \n\n\nThese alien bastards stopped them. Claimed that executing me wouldn’t bring us anywhere. Undoubtedly, they believe that a quick, swift death is not good for me. Maybe they will torture me. Perhaps they will turn me into one of their own. It doesnt matter. I will break out. And then, these „humans“ will experience will feel my wrath.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-11-20T16:11:12 | 2018-11-20T15:58:54 | 835 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you sleep, instead of dreaming, you see a list of tips and tricks that will help you the next day. One night, you only see one tip, “Always aim for the head”.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I yawned and stretched as I pushed myself off the ground. Hate sleeping without a bed, I never get any sort of decent rest. Those damn tips I see in my sleep have never really been helpful, I've always sort of tuned them out and done my own thing. Everything sort of works out in the end... well, except for... a lot of stuff. My dad died because I didn't heed one once. My brother left the family a long time ago, and I've often wondered if I could have convinced him to come back and live with us again... but it never seemed to work out. He's just too different, I suppose.\n\nToday's I almost instantly dismissed. \"Aim for the head\"? How much use could that be? Wasn't like I was going to use any sort of ranged weapons that meant I'd have to aim something at someone's head.\n\n... But as I stared horrified at Thanos, laughing mockingly rather than dying where he stood from the axe I had just embedded in his chest...\n\nI knew I should have listened.\n\nEdit: a word\n\nEdit 2: thank you guys so much for the positive feedback! This is my first WP so I was kind of nervous, but I'm glad you like it.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you sleep, instead of dreaming, you see a list of tips and tricks that will help you the next day. One night, you only see one tip, “Always aim for the head”.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Just another Saturday morning, sleeping in until nine o’clock then “Aim for the head”....\nNow what in the world is this about, don’t own a gun, hell I don’t even own a bow or even a single arrow.\nWell, next is taking the dog for her walk, about a one mile walk to start the day. Nothing unusual, the standard pee and pick up poo. Next breakfast, just shredded whole wheat, blueberries and bananas and a shower. Grocery shopping next but first I need the some cash for the farmers market. I’ll just use the bank on the way to the market. \nJust one car at the ATM in line, only another minute or two. Maybe a bank robbery, quick look through the drive up window, still nothing unusual happening. \nNow the market, fruits and vegetables, some pastries, lunch meat and cheese, and a hoagie for lunch. Now I can walk around and check out the other merchandise. Wow, that print is part of the set that I have hanging in the kitchen and only ten dollars. But still no head shot.\nBack home, put away the groceries, then enjoy the hoagie. My afternoon plan is a movie with Jody, maybe then I’ll take that head shot.\nBut first, I am going to find a nail and hang the print!\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-01-12T14:53:16 | 2019-01-12T14:25:06 | 9,805 | 197 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You die and appear before the Devil and seven other individuals. They applaud you and the Devil exclaims, “finally, an eighth deadly sin!”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "As the eight strange beings applauded, one of them even cupping a hand over her lipsticked mouth to cheer, Joel tried to grasp what was happening. The nine of them sat in a fire rimmed cavern around a conference table shaped from warm volcanic rock. A chandelier of human bones dangled from the cavern’s ceiling, and it rattled around at random like wind chimes. A massive goat-man with reddish-black skin and wicked horns on his head towered above the seven others, who flanked him to either side. \n\nThey looked like pure stereotype. \n\nA fat slob with sixteen chins, a used car saleman looking guy with gold and silver jewelry all over him, a sultry dominatrix in skin tight leather. On the other side a disheveled looking college drop out, a pretty boy staring in a mirror, a bald, muscular dude who looked like someone’s pissed off step-dad and a sour faced woman glancing jealously around the room. Just where the hell was he?\n\nJoel concentrated on his last memory. He remembered highlighting pages as his private jet, “The Holy Gust,” flew over the sapphire waters of the Bahamas. He had been reviewing his sermon for Sunday – dotting the I’s and crossing the crosses, a little god humor there, praise him – and the pilot’s voice had crackled over the intercom about turbulence. Kimberly, his personal assistant, had taken his plow out of her mouth and put on her seat belt. The plane had shook and then…\n\n“Oh God,” Joel said. \n\nHe, none other than Joel Nosteen, the most beloved and syndicated mass media prosperity preacher on planet earth, had died. And this didn’t look like heaven. \n\n“Welcome,” boomed Satan. “Let’s go around the table and introduce ourselves to our newest member. Hi, I’m Lucifer. I’m originally from heaven, and my favorite movie is Star Wars The Last Jedi.”\n\nWhen Satan gestured to the handsome, blonde man looking into the hand mirror, he looked up annoyed.\n\n“I’m pride,” he said. “I’m from-“\n\n“NO ONE CARES,” Satan shouted. “Did you think I was serious? What do you think this is the rotary club?”\n\nAs the gathered freaks shared a chuckle, Pride blew Satan a kiss and went back to his self reflection.\n\n“There’s been a mistake,” Joel said. “I’m a man of God. I’ve done nothing but honor his glory with success my whole life. I’ve spread His word to millions of people all over the world.”\n\n“Yes,” said Satan, a smile carving across his face. “You preached one thing…”\n\nThe fallen angel held out his hand, palm up. He turned it over.\n\n“…and then you did something else. You got rich while your followers got poor. You lied, you cheated, you lusted and you envied. You gathered up everything for yourself while you pretended to care about everybody else, and you did it all with a smile. You convinced millions that you were virtuous. You made everyone in this room very proud, Joel.”\n\nThe seven sins around the table nodded and murmured their assent. Aside from sloth, who had fallen asleep, his Iphone still held limply in his hand.\n\n“You’ve got it wrong,” Joel said, his hands locking together in prayer. “Please God, save me from this hellish torment. Take me up into your light and grant me your salvation, Oh Lord.”\n\n“Don’t embarrass yourself, Joel,” said Greed. “You’re one of us now. How much for that watch?”\n\nInstinctively covering his Rolex from the greasy man’s sight, Joel looked around in surprise.\n\n“One of you?” he asked. “What does he mean?”\n\n“He means welcome,” said Satan. \n\nHe slid a mask across the table, stopping just before it teetered into Joel’s lap. When he picked it up, he saw a smiling visage on the outside of the mask. It was pleasant. On the inside of the mask though, a downturned mouth snarled with dagger teeth, and brows arched menacingly upward. \n\n“You are one of us now.” Satan grinned. “Hypocrisy.”",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You die and appear before the Devil and seven other individuals. They applaud you and the Devil exclaims, “finally, an eighth deadly sin!”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Excuse me?\" I look around me, and am able to quickly read the room. I may be confused and lost, but I'm not dumb. Seven sins; Fat bitch has got to be gluttony, the stoner is sloth, the bimbo (wait is that a guy?) has got to be lust, gold chains is greed, jesus christ, that kid's a school shooter, and probably wrath. That dude in the five billion dollar suit is probably pride, that guy in the five dollar suit from a thrift shop is probably envy. And then there was Satan, who... \"You gotta be kidding me, you're Satan? Beelzebub? The lord of the flies? The devil himself?\"\n\nSatan looks around for a moment, as though wondering what I'm talking about. \"Um... Yes, yes that's me. See, I've got a little name tag and everything.\"\n\nI look a little closer, and he does indeed have a name tag, calling himself 'Lucifer Morningstar'. \"I see that... I didn't expect you to be so... red. And that goatee, like... *Man*, you good? I thought you'd be scarier, and maybe like, on fire or something.\"\n\nSatan looks taken aback, and the sins stare at him, wondering if he's serious. \"I mean, well... I can't be on fire all the time, do you know what the heating bill of heck is?\"\n\n\"Did you say heck?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's where we are... H-E-double hockey sticks...\" Satan nervously taps his fingers on his knees.\n\n\"Can I go?\" I stand up. \"I suppose I'm dead, but I'm sure there are cooler places that I can kick it, like, can somebody point me to the elevator, I'm sure that heaven is ballin'.\"\n\n\"No, no, wait! You're the eighth deadly sin, we need you here! So now that you know... What's your name? What sin do you represent?\" Satan has stood up to stop me from leaving. His hands are surprisingly, grossly cold.\n\n\"My name's Terry... Can you please let me go?\" I pull my hand away from Satan's.\n\n\"Ooh...\" Satan gasps a little too much. \"Terry... The worst of the sins.\"\n\n\"That's it, I've had enough of your nonsense.\" I push my way out of the room, onto a bustling street. Instead of streetlights, burning sinners illuminate the roads, and demons of all shapes and sizes hurry around, while cars drive dangerously fast to and fro.\n\n\"Sup darling, you new around here?\"\n\nI turn, and see a skinny demon with black skin, hair, and horns. They wear a black sun dress with pink and orange blossoms, and red tinted aviator sunglasses.\n\n\"Are you some kind of succubus or something?\"\n\nThe demon scoffs. \"The thought of it, goodness no.\" They offer me a cigarette. \"Name's Beelzebubby, but my friends call me B. So, you new around here?\"\n\nI take the cigarette, and Beelzebubby lights it. \"I am... Is Satan always that clingy?\"\n\n\"Oh, did he try to make you the eighth sin or something like that?\" B takes my hand, and begins to walk with me.\n\n\"Yeah, how did you know?\"\n\n\"He's been doing that kind of thing a lot lately... I think he's trying to be modern or something. In my opinion, he's just trying to cope with the fact that he's not in control around here.\" B waves a hand passively.\n\n\"But isn't he the prince of hell or whatever?\" I look around again. \"Where are we going anyways?\"\n\n\"Prince of hell? Who told you that? Nah, in the infernal bureaucracy, Satan is freakin' nobody. The guy in charge around here is the Father, capital F, and don't you call him nothing else besides that, you'll probably get vaporized.\" B points to an impossibly tall sky-scraper, presumably where Father is staying. \"And we're going to a diner, we gotta get you properly welcomed into hell! You are the eighth sin after all! You're a big deal?\"\n\n\"Am I? The sin of Terry?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-01-12T21:06:01 | 2019-01-12T14:25:06 | 631 | 197 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You die and appear before the Devil and seven other individuals. They applaud you and the Devil exclaims, “finally, an eighth deadly sin!”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I felt groggy. My back was stiff. “Where am I?” I thought. “I must have slept in. I can’t remember falling asleep.” The mattress felt unfamiliar. I eased myself into a sitting position.\n\n​\n\n“She’s up!” a voice to my left yelled, startling me to no end. I wrenched my eyelids open to take in my surroundings. We were in a big, dark room. I was laying on a bed against the wall. To my right there was a massive door with a metal handle. It was rounded at the top like a gate. The tiny lights pointed downward so when you looked up you could not see the ceiling. Everything was bathed in a reddish hue. It was cold. My mattress must have been bought secondhand from a prison. The stone wall in front of me shimmered as if it were wet. \n\n​\n\nTo my left the room extended into darkness. The sharp footsteps of the man behind the voice echoed closer and closer until a pair of polished dress shoes emerged from the darkness. He was wearing a suit with a black tie and a teal pocket square. His hair was slicked back with gel. The scent of his cologne overpowered me, even from a distance of 15 feet. “Welcome to hell” he said brightly.\n\n​\n\n“Huh?” I mumbled trying to expel the grogginess from my brain. “Why are you dressed like that?” I felt silly for not being able to come up with a better question.\n\n​\n\n “I died at the office.” He chuckled. “I had a heart attack on Saturday night after I heard that this dimwit John got the promotion I deserved.” He smiled at me. My mouth hung open, unable to form coherent words. “Anyways, I’m pride. The boss will be here in a few minutes, but let me introduce you to the crew.”\n\n​\n\nA group of people emerged from the darkness behind him. “This is greed” he said motioning to a woman in a low cut dress revealing massive fake boobs. Her hair was wound up into a gravity-defying decorative mass atop her head. A small naked man stood to her left. He angled himself away from me in an attempt to hide his petit package. A fresh bloody wound marred the left side of his chest. “That there is lust. He got shot after he broke into his ex-girlfriend’s house. She had taken up another lover who happened to be a member of the NRA. Poor bloke is gonna be naked for eternity. Next is envy.” He gestured towards the next man. He was in his mid-fifties, with dark hair and glasses. “He died when he wrapped his brand new Lambo around a pole at 100 miles per hour the day after he declared bankruptcy. Then there’s gluttony and sloth, they’re inseparable.” Gluttony was a large man standing with his feet several feet apart in order to support his weight. Next to him was sloth, a woman in her 30’s whose stomach was tucked into the front of her sweat pants. “And this is wrath.” A giant muscle-bound man stood on the end of the line. His massive shoulders obscured his neck. “He had a roid rage incident. And that’s everybody. Who are you?”\n\n​\n\n“I’m… uh… my name is…” I stammered. “I can’t remember.”\n\n​\n\nThe sound of a massive lock unlatching made all of us jump. The door to my right let out a shrill creak as it swung on it’s colossal hinges. A wave of oppressive heat rushed into the room. Behind the door flames enveloped a man with red skin and yellow eyes. His long stringy hair tumbled down around a pair of black horns stretching out from the sides of his head. \n\n​\n\n“My friends,” he said in a deep voice. “Our team… is complete at last.” Please welcome, our eight and final member, “We shall call her, failure-to-use-turn-signal.”\n\n​",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You die and appear before the Devil and seven other individuals. They applaud you and the Devil exclaims, “finally, an eighth deadly sin!”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Excuse me?\" I look around me, and am able to quickly read the room. I may be confused and lost, but I'm not dumb. Seven sins; Fat bitch has got to be gluttony, the stoner is sloth, the bimbo (wait is that a guy?) has got to be lust, gold chains is greed, jesus christ, that kid's a school shooter, and probably wrath. That dude in the five billion dollar suit is probably pride, that guy in the five dollar suit from a thrift shop is probably envy. And then there was Satan, who... \"You gotta be kidding me, you're Satan? Beelzebub? The lord of the flies? The devil himself?\"\n\nSatan looks around for a moment, as though wondering what I'm talking about. \"Um... Yes, yes that's me. See, I've got a little name tag and everything.\"\n\nI look a little closer, and he does indeed have a name tag, calling himself 'Lucifer Morningstar'. \"I see that... I didn't expect you to be so... red. And that goatee, like... *Man*, you good? I thought you'd be scarier, and maybe like, on fire or something.\"\n\nSatan looks taken aback, and the sins stare at him, wondering if he's serious. \"I mean, well... I can't be on fire all the time, do you know what the heating bill of heck is?\"\n\n\"Did you say heck?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's where we are... H-E-double hockey sticks...\" Satan nervously taps his fingers on his knees.\n\n\"Can I go?\" I stand up. \"I suppose I'm dead, but I'm sure there are cooler places that I can kick it, like, can somebody point me to the elevator, I'm sure that heaven is ballin'.\"\n\n\"No, no, wait! You're the eighth deadly sin, we need you here! So now that you know... What's your name? What sin do you represent?\" Satan has stood up to stop me from leaving. His hands are surprisingly, grossly cold.\n\n\"My name's Terry... Can you please let me go?\" I pull my hand away from Satan's.\n\n\"Ooh...\" Satan gasps a little too much. \"Terry... The worst of the sins.\"\n\n\"That's it, I've had enough of your nonsense.\" I push my way out of the room, onto a bustling street. Instead of streetlights, burning sinners illuminate the roads, and demons of all shapes and sizes hurry around, while cars drive dangerously fast to and fro.\n\n\"Sup darling, you new around here?\"\n\nI turn, and see a skinny demon with black skin, hair, and horns. They wear a black sun dress with pink and orange blossoms, and red tinted aviator sunglasses.\n\n\"Are you some kind of succubus or something?\"\n\nThe demon scoffs. \"The thought of it, goodness no.\" They offer me a cigarette. \"Name's Beelzebubby, but my friends call me B. So, you new around here?\"\n\nI take the cigarette, and Beelzebubby lights it. \"I am... Is Satan always that clingy?\"\n\n\"Oh, did he try to make you the eighth sin or something like that?\" B takes my hand, and begins to walk with me.\n\n\"Yeah, how did you know?\"\n\n\"He's been doing that kind of thing a lot lately... I think he's trying to be modern or something. In my opinion, he's just trying to cope with the fact that he's not in control around here.\" B waves a hand passively.\n\n\"But isn't he the prince of hell or whatever?\" I look around again. \"Where are we going anyways?\"\n\n\"Prince of hell? Who told you that? Nah, in the infernal bureaucracy, Satan is freakin' nobody. The guy in charge around here is the Father, capital F, and don't you call him nothing else besides that, you'll probably get vaporized.\" B points to an impossibly tall sky-scraper, presumably where Father is staying. \"And we're going to a diner, we gotta get you properly welcomed into hell! You are the eighth sin after all! You're a big deal?\"\n\n\"Am I? The sin of Terry?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-02-28T08:53:13 | 2019-02-28T07:02:20 | 261 | 82 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A boy and his dog die in an accident, and both show up at the pearly gates of dog-heaven. The boy can't be admitted, and must traverse purgatory to get to human-heaven. Instead of entering paradise, the dog decides to make sure his young owner gets to human-heaven safely first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Something was wrong.\n\nSomething was wrong before, too, in the car. They were doing a car ride but they stopped very fast and there was a lot of noise and hurt and other confusing things and he didn’t know where the boy was and it was wrong, but then the hurt went away and the boy was there so it was ok again.\n\nThey weren’t in the car anymore and that seemed wrong, but the boy was there so it seemed ok. There was a man he didn’t know standing next to a fence. The fence was very tall but for some reason he was sure he could jump over it if he wanted to. There were interesting smells coming from the other side of the fence. Actually, it seemed as though ALL the smells were wafting their way through the whorling wind coming from the other side of the fence, and he wondered if he might- but the boy.\n\nThe boy was talking at the man. The man talked back. They did this many times. He heard his name several times, which was good. The boy did not like the things the man said, which was bad. This was wrong. The man smelled like good but said bad things to the boy.\n\nThis was very confusing.\n\nThe smells were also confusing, but in a different way. They made it hard to think about the boy. But the boy looked sad, which was wrong, and it was easier to think about the boy when things were wrong.\n\nThe boy called him over, and he went (of course). The boy kneeled down and squeezed him hard, which was okay, and then let go and scratched him a lot, which was great! Then he stopped which wasn’t great but was still okay. Then he stood up and left, which was confusing.\n\nSomething was wrong.\n\nThe boy left away from the fence, which had the smells. The man was making nice noises at him, but the boy was still walking away, which was bad. The fence was looking increasingly leapable, and he thought he smelled the boy’s smell coming from the other side, which was confusing.\n\nThe man was still making nice noises at him, but they were also confused noises. This made sense, since everything was very confusing right now. He thought he might like the man, but the man made the boy sad and that was wrong.\n\nThe boy was getting far away. This was wrong. He didn’t know where the boy was going, or how the boy was getting there. Without him?\n\nThat was very wrong. The smells could wait. He needed to follow the boy.\n\nSo he did.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A boy and his dog die in an accident, and both show up at the pearly gates of dog-heaven. The boy can't be admitted, and must traverse purgatory to get to human-heaven. Instead of entering paradise, the dog decides to make sure his young owner gets to human-heaven safely first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Racer! You can talk?!\" Jimmy screamed, hugging a mop of golden hair. The pup was just a bit smaller than he was; they were at similar points in life when a greater calling swept them up.\n\n\"Well, Jimmy, I've always been able to talk. You just couldn't understand what I was saying.\" Racer licked the boys face, then settled on his hindquarters.\n\nThey sat on soft clouds like piles of cotton balls, a solid milky smoke, near an insurmountable gate forged from gold. A man phased into existence just a few feet from them, glowing as though the source of light that made everything radiate so warmly. Though sudden, the surprise was not scary.\n\n\"Hello, Racer,\" a rich voice called, his voice warm. \"It's time for you to go. You have a family waiting for you.\"\n\nRacer looked at the man, then retracted his tongue and regarded him for a moment. \"Only if he can join me.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, child. The boy has a place to rest, and it is not here.\"\n\nJimmy started to cry, but caught the tears before they took him over. \"It's okay, Racer. If you gotta go, you gotta go.\"\n\nRacer stood on all fours, then turned from the angel. \"No. I'll go with you, wherever that is. And maybe, somewhere, we'll find a place we can both rest.\"\n\nJimmy lit up, but the angel dimmed a little. \"Racer, you cannot join him, just as he cannot join you. If you leave this place, I fear a journey lies ahead that is not fit to young souls such as yourselves. Rest, and let the others come for young Jimmy, lest you set off somewhere and wind up lost.\"\n\nRacer did not even bother turning back to the Gatekeeper. Instead, he nuzzled his soft head on his human's shoulder. \"Don't be scared, Jimmy. I'll be with you every step of the way. Together, we'll get you somewhere safe.\"\n\n\"But Racer, what if they don't let you come back?\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter. I don't know why they say we have to end up in different worlds, Jimmy, but I can tell you this- a place without you is not somewhere I want to spend forever.\"\n\nThe gatekeeper watched them fade into a holy haze of mist and glow with a smile, for heaven is not always pearly castle protected by gold gates. Sometimes, it is just the journey of two beings deeply entwined with love.\n\n*/r/resonatingfury*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-03-13T22:21:14 | 2019-03-13T19:01:35 | 28 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A man has time traveling powers but he can only go forward in time, he uses this ability to skip boring parts of his life. One day he gets bored in class and time travels three minutes in to the future, everything has become an apocalyptic wasteland and everyone is dead except him.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I’m going to skip this boring class, Peter thought.\n\nAll he had to do was think of the time he wanted to skip in words and poof, he’d be ok the future in the blink of an eye.\n\nJust as he was about to think the thought, he noticed his crush, Sarah turning to him and smiling.\n\nIt looked like Sarah was bored as well. His heart fluttered and he smiled back, his eyes locking with hers for a few seconds in a flirting glance.\n\nHe knew that today he had the courage to ask her out, only if this darned class would end in a few minutes. It was easy, he’d just speed up time for three minutes, the bell would ring and he’d have the date he had been dreaming of.\n\nHe thought to himself “three m-“ wow she’s so beautiful, he thought as the sunlight shone across the back of her long silky hair and she turned to smile at him again - I could spend millions of years with this girl. “Three million years” he thought.\n\nPoof, and in the blink of an eye, he lost everything\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A man has time traveling powers but he can only go forward in time, he uses this ability to skip boring parts of his life. One day he gets bored in class and time travels three minutes in to the future, everything has become an apocalyptic wasteland and everyone is dead except him.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I've always had this ability of mine to move through time but only forwards never backwards. It's served me well so far. Boring dinners, family reunions, mass and most importantly school. I could easily avoid that with a simple thought and POP I was in the future, as a child people always complemented me on my ability to wait, it's not as if my mind moves forward my body does as well people just presume I'm there when I'm not. \n\nIt was just another day the usual monotonous meander of modern life, the daily routine if you will. I was watching a movie I had already seen class so I did what I usually do skip ahead. Except this time I wish I didn't. When I moved the class was destroyed, bodies were scattered around and the outside campus had transformed into a demonic hell scape. I was in utter shock and I did what came naturally I shifted forwards again, this time there was no school grounds a terrible tower protruded from the earth renting the heavens apart. How could this of happened and why? I had to find out, this power is the only clue I have and I've perfected it maybe just maybe I can finally go back. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-03-13T22:21:14 | 2019-03-13T21:29:48 | 28 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A man has time traveling powers but he can only go forward in time, he uses this ability to skip boring parts of his life. One day he gets bored in class and time travels three minutes in to the future, everything has become an apocalyptic wasteland and everyone is dead except him.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I’m going to skip this boring class, Peter thought.\n\nAll he had to do was think of the time he wanted to skip in words and poof, he’d be ok the future in the blink of an eye.\n\nJust as he was about to think the thought, he noticed his crush, Sarah turning to him and smiling.\n\nIt looked like Sarah was bored as well. His heart fluttered and he smiled back, his eyes locking with hers for a few seconds in a flirting glance.\n\nHe knew that today he had the courage to ask her out, only if this darned class would end in a few minutes. It was easy, he’d just speed up time for three minutes, the bell would ring and he’d have the date he had been dreaming of.\n\nHe thought to himself “three m-“ wow she’s so beautiful, he thought as the sunlight shone across the back of her long silky hair and she turned to smile at him again - I could spend millions of years with this girl. “Three million years” he thought.\n\nPoof, and in the blink of an eye, he lost everything\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A man has time traveling powers but he can only go forward in time, he uses this ability to skip boring parts of his life. One day he gets bored in class and time travels three minutes in to the future, everything has become an apocalyptic wasteland and everyone is dead except him.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The sun was beating down heavily on Sean’s head. All around him, everything was gone. No buildings, streets, or living creatures. There wasn’t even rubble marking the prior locations of buildings. Wiping the sweat from his head, he glanced around and tried to figure out if the source of this catastrophe was visible. Moving to area where the front of his school used to be, Sean found sever corpses wearing tattered remains of a strange uniform. Deciding to just ignore it for now, he started to make the trek to his house.\n\nAs Sean started to approach the street where his house was, he noticed something strange. There was no noise. It wasn’t just the absence of background noise, like birds and wind. There was no noise at all. When he stomped, sighed, screamed, or did anything that should produce any amount of noise, it was absent.\n\nLooking around him, it became abundantly clear what happened. His fast forwarding had broken everything. As he watched the sky break apart and pixelate, he knew that whatever had been controlling the world got tired of his interference and decided to start over. Surviving it was his punishment.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-03-18T15:24:37 | 2019-03-18T13:36:43 | 21 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A technology is invented that allows us to hear sounds locked into the clay of ancient pots as they were being formed. What is extracted are conversations that will alter the perception of history in the most terrifying of ways.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": " \n\n*Yo man, check this out! I just bought this pot from pre-historic South America. Neat uh? Let's hear what it says! Turn that shit on!*\n\n*O-kay. I'm turning the device on. Get ready for disappointment.*\n\n*Wow this sounds like gibberish! You sure that thing ain’t broken?* \n\n*Yes, I am pretty sure. I am also sure you nor anyone else still alive can understand the undocumented language of the people who made that vase. You’re stupid.*\n\n*Oh, right. Shit.*\n\n*Wait, did she just start moaning?*\n\n*Yep.... okay. Hold on.. Did I just hear she call out Patrick Swayze?*\n\n*I think... I think I heard that too.*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A technology is invented that allows us to hear sounds locked into the clay of ancient pots as they were being formed. What is extracted are conversations that will alter the perception of history in the most terrifying of ways.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "We heard sounds you wouldn't even be able to imagine. It was about ancient, forgotten languages, wars we never knew, love that never should have happened. We heard gossip from all around the world, but all of this was never really interesting, and neither important.\n\nThen a day came. It should've been a normal day in our laboratory, we had a vase from ancient rome. It was a day like any other, until we heard a very certain name, within an old unknown language: Adolf. For you it might be nothing, but for us it were everything. An evidence for something that never should've existed, that never could've happened, a real prophecy which got true. But sadly, we will never know. And i do not even know why, or how. But this is my Story. This is my story of discovering our real history. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-07-20T09:51:07 | 2019-07-20T07:44:50 | 16 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're a human living with a vampire roommate. It's painfully obvious; he never looks at mirrors, he despises garlic, he never uses silverware, and he always stays in during the day, but his attempts at trying to blend in are far too funny.\n\nEDIT: Thank you, silver gifter!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "So Sam and I have known each other for three years and within a month I figured it out he wasn't human in any way possible. Sam was one of those guy's who are very reserved and take time to open up. I on the other hand have a personality of an aggressive big brother so we both hit off instantly.\n\nI was a morning person but watching way too many Seinfeld episodes I decided I will be awake at night and sleep in the morning. So me and Sam work in the same Amazon support center. We both have night shifts and then chill back at my place.\n\nSam tries to hide his extraordinary paleness by saying to people that he works night shifts and yet our colleagues try to invite us over to morning events, I end up saving Sam by letting them know that he has a weird skin condition which he tries to avoid but he his too polite to let people know.\n\nSam asked me why do so many people keep gifting him skincare products and sunscreens but me being a prick, I just smile and shrug.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're a human living with a vampire roommate. It's painfully obvious; he never looks at mirrors, he despises garlic, he never uses silverware, and he always stays in during the day, but his attempts at trying to blend in are far too funny.\n\nEDIT: Thank you, silver gifter!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "She often caught his awkward eyes and giggled, quitely. He was kind of cute, after all. Polite, unassuming, helpful, just not very present. Still, It was early days. Alex had only moved In some weeks back. Kiera decided to she would speak to him, soon as the chance would arise. 'He is the only house mate who hasn't judged me' This thought persisted and endeared him to her. 'They all judge him too' she muttered to herself In the kitchen, one night. She sat In the dark, feeling comforted by emptiness.\n\nThat same night, Alex returned from his night shift, Kiera could see his pale skin, white like moonlight, freckled with blood. He glimmered In the sepia night shade, as he shut the door quietly behind him. She was scared but left Intrigued. He skulked silently upstairs and In to the bathroom, leaving the door slightly a jar. As she approached, heavy panting and running water was all she could hear...",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-08-18T06:44:48 | 2019-08-18T06:22:50 | 232 | 123 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The nightmare has come true; you've woken up back in sixth grade with your memories and knowledge of everything that happened since then intact. You start staring at your classmates around you, aware of how they end up. Your teacher asks you what's wrong as you start weeping.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It takes me a moment to realize where I am. Once it hits me, I look over at my best friend, Colin. He looks at me and smiles. That's when I break. The tears fall down my face, landing on my desk. I haven't seen that smile in years. I study him for signs I may have missed, but there's nothing. Unscarred wrists. A smile.\n\nLooking around some more, I see many people who had turned the wrong way at one point or another. The murderer. The druggie. Those don't bother me that much. It's the dead ones that do.\n\nSoon, I can't take it anymore. I set my head down on my face, trying to hide the tears. Colin, knowing I don't cry too often, asks me what's wrong. I shake my head, saying nothing while continuing to let the tears fall on the desk.\n\nWhen I feel a relaxing hand on my shoulder, I look up. \"Belle, are you okay?\" Mrs. Pride asks, worried.\n\n\"No, I'm not...\" I mutter, looking into her eyes. She's not dead. That's comforts me slightly.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" She asks, sitting on her knees.\n\n\"Everything.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The nightmare has come true; you've woken up back in sixth grade with your memories and knowledge of everything that happened since then intact. You start staring at your classmates around you, aware of how they end up. Your teacher asks you what's wrong as you start weeping.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\n''Carson, are you alright?''\n\nIn fact, I was alright but she won’t be. She will get sick a year later and she will die on the hospital bed. \n\n''Yes, I’m alright. Can I go to the bathroom for a minute, please?''\n\nI was looking at myself in the mirror. Then, it struck me. My best friend will die to a dramatic accident 4 years later and Emelia... she will die to alcohol poisoning on prom night.\n\nIs this why I’m here? To prevent their death? Even if somehow I manage to prevent their death... Mei! She got missing a few weeks after Emelia’s death, they couldn’t find her. Okay, it’s time to breathe. Just breathe. I need to calm down. \n\nFirst, I need to make sure our teacher visits her doctor before it’s too late. \n\n----------------------------------------------\n*Please don't mind any writing or grammar mistakes, I'm not a native speaker*\n\n[SatChat: Summer Challenge](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/c3rkez/ot_satchat_summer_challenge_pick_a_challenge_tier/)\n\nWeek 8, Story 2\n\n[Here is the previous story from this week](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cqr442/tt_theme_thursday_bad_ideas/ex32sdp/)",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-08-18T08:35:17 | 2019-08-18T07:59:06 | 177 | 70 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The nightmare has come true; you've woken up back in sixth grade with your memories and knowledge of everything that happened since then intact. You start staring at your classmates around you, aware of how they end up. Your teacher asks you what's wrong as you start weeping.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I couldn't stop crying. It was too much, too unbelievable. It was as if the last 10 years had never happened. The attack. The First Night. The Hordes. The war, all of the death and destruction, it was as if it had all been erased. Somehow the Elovians' gambit had paid off and I was back in this familiar, yet entirely alien time and place.\n\nI was suddenly aware of my right hand. I could \\*feel\\* my right hand gripping my desk. I looked down, afraid but hopeful, and it was there. It was the hand of an eleven year old, but it was there. Whole, unblemished, and still attached to my arm. I flexed my fingers, feeling each one on the fake wood as I did, and took a breath in a small gasp. I had my hand back.\n\nThe rest of the class had turned around in their seats to look at me, confused as to why I had suddenly burst into tears. The teacher (Mrs. Skinner? I couldn't remember.), had a look of concern on her face as she asked again what was wrong. Still crying I just shook my head. I was too shocked to say anything. She put down the chalk she had been using, the math equation she had been writing only half finished on the board, and started walking down the aisle of desks towards me. \n\nSuddenly a girl a couple of rows over stood up and gasped, knocking her seat over as she did so. She had a look of surprise on her face as she looked around the room.\n\n\"How is this possible?\", the girl said. She started trembling and tears started to slowly leak down her cheeks. I didn't recognize her, but her face looked vaguely familiar. Amy? Amanda? Angie? I hadn't thought of anyone from my school days in years. I had bigger problems to deal with. We all had.\n\nThe teacher stopped and turned to the girl. She looked back over to me, suddenly unsure which student she should turn to first.\n\n\"Jimmy, Amy, what is the matter with you two?\", the teacher said, looking back and forth at the two of us.\n\nSuddenly there were several more gasps from some of the other kids, until each and every one of them became of aware of where, and when, they were. Some started sobbing. Some were obviously in shock. \n\nThe teacher (Yes, it was Mrs. Skinner.) sat down hard on the floor, one hand against her chest. \n\n\"What am I doing here? They said there was some kind of attack. I saw lights in the sky, and... I think I died?\" Mrs. Skinner started gasping, as if she couldn't get enough air.\n\nI started getting myself under control, my training kicking in as the class started descending into chaos. I started to slow my breathing. Maybe it was seeing everyone else suddenly falling apart that helped. \n\nI got out of my seat and went to Mrs. Skinner. \"Just breath. It's OK. You're alive. We have time.\"\n\nWhen the Resistance leadership told us that our alien allies could send us back in time I hadn't believed them. But it worked. The Elovians had done it. Everyone was back, and everyone had remembered what happened. \n\nFive years. Five years until the First Night. Five years until the Horde poured out of the night sky. Five years until countless millions died. \n\nWe had a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it, but we now we knew what was coming. Humanity had a second chance.\n\nWe had to prepare.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The nightmare has come true; you've woken up back in sixth grade with your memories and knowledge of everything that happened since then intact. You start staring at your classmates around you, aware of how they end up. Your teacher asks you what's wrong as you start weeping.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My ears finally clear and I can finally focus on the fact that I’m in the bathroom of my elementary school. How long have I been standing here at the sink, I see they still haven’t replaced the mirror that got ripped off the wall as part of the 6th graders prank 16 years ago? Jesus, It really wasn’t a good idea to drink during my high school reunion, much less our “Walk Down Memory Lane” tour. I should probably ease up on the day drinking. I knew it was a bad idea to come back here but my therapist convinced me I could confront some demons and move on. \n\n“Alright here goes nothing,” I think as I emerge from the bathroom. I’m confronted with my 6th grade teacher but for some reason I’m looking up at her instead of eye to eye. “Back in line,” she says. Really giving us the full experience I suppose. \n\nI get in line and notice I’m in line with children. Real 6th graders. How bizarre. Where is Kelly? She promised she would help me get thru this Reunion nonsense. \n\nWe make our way down the hall and back in the same classroom I had 6th grade geography in. The second I step into the room I know something is wrong. All the ‘children’ have sat down and I know them. I know all of them. They’re my classmates and they’re all 12 years old. Kelly is sitting at her desk, but Kelly looks 12 years old. My ears start ringing. Mrs Fritch tells me to take a seat. “How drunk am I? I cannot let them know I’m drunk,” I think as I take my seat in the back. The same seat I had when I was in 6th grade. She starts in on the geography lesson. I already know all this information. I start looking around and inspecting everyone’s face, realizing that I do not even feel a little drunk. \n\nMy brain starts running a mile a minute. Did I drop acid and forget again? Was I rufied? Nothing is making sense. As I look around the room and realize that these children are in fact actual 6th graders it occurs to me that I don’t even know what I look like. I slowly unzip my backpack and pull out my purse. Holy shit, this is literally the purse I got for Back to School all those years ago. I pull out my little compact mirror and slowly open it. I am staring at 6th me. I’m in danger of passing out. Tears sting my eyes but I’m not really sure why. \n\nThen it dawns on me. If I’m here, in 6th grade again, and all my classmates are here as 6th graders, it means she’s out there somewhere. Probably at home I assume. I immediately raise me hand and announce that I need to go to the nurse because I am about to vomit. Mrs Fritch gives me a weird look, probably got using the word vomit. She writes me a pass and sends me to the nurse. \n\nI’m practically running. I tell the nurse I need to “puke” and scoot right into her bathroom and shut the door. After giving an Oscar worthy performance of vomiting, she tells me my mom is on my way as I emerge from the bathroom.\n\n“This is it,” I think. We don’t live far. And if this insane hallucination is correct, it is not actually 2019, where my mom has been dead for 5 years. It’s 1995 and she is alive and well and on her way to pick me up.",
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2019-09-10T11:13:59 | 2019-09-10T10:53:31 | 51 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're an unnaturally gifted lawyer, able to win any case you come across no matter how damning the evidence is against your client. Today you deliberately try to lose a case.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "The bets started off relatively tame.\n\nUse the word leprechaun during my opening arguments. Wear shoes three sizes too big. Speak at random volumes during cross-examination. Throw out an objection due to opposing counsel being too handsome. \n\nNo matter what random bet we made, it never affected the outcome of the case. Things then began to escalate. \n\nAudibly pass gas in the direction of the judge. Make fun of the jury. Challenge opposing counsel to a duel at high-noon. \n\nAs the wagers became increasingly ridiculous, whispers moved around the law circles of the upstart attorney who literally couldn't lose a case. \n\nThis one though. I don't know if I can win this one.\n\nMy client was 100% guilty. He live streamed his murder spree on Facebook, going so far as to state his name and motive as he unloaded his magazine. When surrounded by cops his gun jammed and he was arrested. He never expected to make it this far and made that abundantly clear. While on the witness stand he yelled out to the jury saying that if they release him ever, he will track down and murder all of them and everyone they love. \n\nI tried to get him to take an insanity plea, but he refused. Stating he was completely in control of himself and his actions. The Psych team agreed.\n\nIf it is true that I cannot lose, I fear for the monster I will release on the world. \n\n​\n\nA hail Mary was my only option. \n\nDuring my cross-examination of my client, I asked him if it was true that his gun jammed while he was shooting. It was. It was his side-arm when he ran out of rounds for his AR-15. He said that he realized he had put it together incorrectly and it would be impossible to fire. The police report corroborated. I showed the sidearm, he confirmed and the police report confirmed this was the weapon in question. I loaded it with a magazine I had smuggled in. \n\nI chambered a round. \n\nI leveled it at my clients chest.\n\nBang.\n\n​\n\nI was immediately arrested. Though even then I did win the case. Police tampering of evidence or some nonsense. Jury ate it up, claiming doctored footage and coerced testimony. My client got the \"good\" news while in the hospital recovering from his wound. Unsurprisingly, he went on a rampage in the ICU, cut up a few doctors pretty good before his body succumbed to his injuries and he died.\n\n​\n\nThe interrogator looked at me as I told my story, taking page after page of notes.\n\n\"Your lawyer is here to discuss what happens now.\" He said to me dryly.\n\nI smirked at him. \"I'm going to represent myself.\"",
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{
"content": "[WP] You're an unnaturally gifted lawyer, able to win any case you come across no matter how damning the evidence is against your client. Today you deliberately try to lose a case.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "Day 1: (Arriving at the courtroom stark naked hoping to be placed in contempt of court)\n\n\"Uh, counselor, please approach the bench.\" The judge demands. While approaching the judge's stand, the judge is fumbling around under the stand as if she dropped something. \"Larry, what exactly are you trying to pull in my courtroom? It's a good thing my husband and I grabbed each other's gym bag. He's about your girth...size and these should fit.\" The judge throws the sleek looking clothing at you. \"Now go into the side room and get dressed.\" The judge says. \"Oh and if you pull this stunt again tomorrow, I'll have everyone do the same thing. Got it?\" The judge concludes.\n\nDay 2: \"Objection!\"\n\n\"On what grounds Larry. He's your witness.\" Judge says while rubbing her forehead. \"Now please continue without any further outbursts.\"\n\nDay 3: (You decide not to show up)\n\n*Pounding at your door*\n\n\"Go Away!\"\n\n\"This is the police, open up.\" A man says from outside the residence.\n\n*More pounding*\n\n\"Open up Larry. You're late for the trial and everyone is waiting.\"\n\n*CRASH! The door is knocked down*\n\n\"Bailiff, help the counselor get ready, we'll have to continue here in the kitchen and dining room.\" The judge says while looking around.\n\n\"Larry, if you really wanted to impress me, you'd clean up your clothes from the living room. May we continue?\" she finally says.\n\nYou begin to ponder where this is a dream or real life. Everything you try to fail the case, it backfires.\n\nDay 4: (You hold up a bank)\n\n\"Sir.\" A bank teller says. \"Is your name Larry? The judge is on the line. She says that a full reenactment of the case is not necessary. The SWAT team outside has been informed to escort you to the courthouse.\" The bank Teller concludes while cleaning her glasses and looking pissed rather than scared.\n\nDay 5: (Defense rests)\n\n\"The defense rests.\" You tell the courtroom and promptly sit down.\n\n\"Larry, what are you doing? \". The district attorney is sweating bullets and staring wide-eyed at you.\n\n\"Come on Bob, I'm throwing in the towel.\" You state back to him. \"My client draws you and the judge in a noose every day on his pad.\" You throw the pad at Bob who flips through the pages watching the gruesome animation the pages create.\n\n\"Defendant, your verdict. The judge requests from Bob.\n\n\" I um require a lunch recess.\" bob says and quickly gets up and leaves the room.\n\nThe judge turns to you and says. \"Larry looks like you've got this one in the bag.\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2019-09-15T11:03:30 | 2019-09-15T09:59:21 | 139 | 31 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have a special power. Whenever your life is in danger; time freezes until you've made yourself safe. One day time stops, and nothing you do seems to make it start again.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "You take a deep breath and begin looking around. No oncoming cars, from the looks of it. They’re all stopped at the light. Odd… Usually time freezes in an intersection are a gimmie. You finish crossing the street, expecting the sounds of traffic to spur back to life. \n\nNothing.\n\nYou examine the insides of the nearby vehicles. A shooting, perhaps? You walk between each vehicle in search of someone armed, but to no avail. You scan the tops of the nearby buildings, hoping to find a rogue sniper like an assassin out of a movie.\n\nStill, nothing.\n\nYou rub your wrists out of habit, a nervous tick you developed in university. “Wait, is it always like that?” Your pulse is almost non-existent. Is it always that way when time freezes? You’ve never checked before.\n\nTime is still frozen when you arrive at work, and you hustle past the statuesque patients seated about the clinic’s waiting room. Pushing into one of the patient rooms where a man is in the middle of having blood drawn, you unsuccessfully attempt to run some basic diagnostics on yourself. The equipment is unresponsive. “Alright, well I guess I have a couple of options. I’m either dying, or about to be killed…” \n\nAs you make your way out of town, you stop by the hospital on the way out. Navigating through the sanitized halls, you find yourself standing outside an operating room. You take a deep breath, “Please don’t let this be it.”\n\nYou push open the door to the O.R. and see a handful of doctors who appear to have just finished an operation. You pull a piece of scrap paper from your pocket and jot down a brief note: *Dying of unknown cause. Possible heart failure. Please help.* You grab a scalpel and leave it floating in the air in the hopes that it falling will grab the attention of the doctors in the room.\n\nYou hold the note to your chest and sit down on the surgical table. You close your eyes. “What if time does continue? What if I lay down and everything springs to back to life? Does time only continue if I’m guaranteed to live? It hasn’t gotten me killed yet, but… Oncoming traffic is such a black and white danger. Maybe it would be better to just continue like this, frozen. Never find the solution.”\n\nYou look around at the doctors in the room, suspended in time, forever trapped as they scrub out. Never again would they save a life or see their families. You think about your niece, saved on this very table when she was only three. Somewhere she is frozen too, petrified like a statue in Medusa’s garden.\n\nYou try to steady your shaky breathing and look down at the surgical table. You grit your teeth and prepare to plunge into the unknown. Holding the note to your chest, you recline onto the table.\n\n*Clack-clang!*\n\nThe scalpel crashes to the ground, clattering across the tile. Your vision dims, and you become rapidly short of breath. You hear the voice of one of the doctors as he turns around and sees you lying supine on the table, “Who the hell is that!”\n\nYou sense the presence of another doctor who has rushed up to your body and read the note. You feel her checking for a pulse on your wrist, “Doesn’t matter, their pulse is weak. They don’t have much time.”\n\nAs the sound of the doctors hurrying about the O.R. grows faint, your vision goes black, and with it your consciousness leaves.\n\n\\------------\n\nMy medical expertise is virtually nonexistent, so please excuse any inaccuracies!",
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"content": "[WP] You have a special power. Whenever your life is in danger; time freezes until you've made yourself safe. One day time stops, and nothing you do seems to make it start again.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "They sometimes say that your life is put on hold when you are diagnosed with cancer. \n\nMy wife cried. She sobbed as I held her in my arms and stroked her hair. She was more scared than I was. I get that. I couldn’t help but think about losing my own hair as I repeated that same comforting motion over and over. My hair had always been one of my most defining features. Damn shame to lose it. Maybe I would dye it a cool colour before I lost it... and I suppose I had always liked the look of a Mohawk... wigs were pretty stylish nowadays too... \n\nI was being vain. I could afford to be vain. They had caught it early. I would be out of action for a year or so. It would be rough but we’d make it. We had savings in the bank. Id never been so thankful to not be an American. I thanked my lucky stars for free healthcare as I held my wife that day. I don’t think I’d handle having that conversation about finances while I was in this confused, wild frame of mind. Sure, we would maybe have to rethink the trips we had planned, but Egypt and California and Vietnam would all still be there by the time I was fighting fit again. We’d get through this. Easy. Just a blip on the radar of our otherwise wonderful life. \n\nAt least, that was what I thought until they did further tests. \n\nPeople describe the world slowing down as they are given the news. They describe spouses and children crying. Sometimes they themselves cry. More often than not they describe the numbness, the emotionless, empty space where their heart used to live. They feel powerless. They feel trapped. They feel lost. \n\n“Terminal”. There’s something... so benign about that word. Terminal. Like a bus terminal or an airport terminal. A stepping stone to another destination. Next stop: Endless black nothingness/reincarnation/fiery pits of hell/pearly gates with saint Pete/whatever you other destination you believe your pathetic little mortal life leads to. \n\nMy life did stop that day. Literally. I’ve long since lost track of time. I wander freely as the world remains frozen. I’ve tried everything to make this end. I broke into secret government labs. I ate weird plants from medieval textbooks. I tried hooking myself up to IVs in random hospitals. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. \n\nYou wouldn’t believe how hard it is to cross an ocean devoid of currents or wind. (and l have to admit, Some poor boat owner in Plymouth is going to get a nasty shock when his little sailboat miraculously turns up in the Chesapeake bay). I was desperate. There has to be a cure somewhere in this vast world. Where else could it be? The pharmaceutical companies of the United States would certainly lose a lot of money if people suddenly weren’t paying for their medications. \n\nMy wife never liked conspiracies. She always said they were a waste of time. I never seriously believed in them either, yet I still read up on them. I’m not sure why if I’m honest. Perhaps being born with a strange ability like mine makes you question reality a little bit more. How ironic that my ability would lead me here, to the largest medical laboratory in the United States, in search of a cure for... well, a cure for either of my conditions would suit me at this stage. That said, I admit that it is more likely that I find a cure to the less supernatural of my diseases. I can’t say I care. Just as long as I can one day watch her laugh as I run my hands through her hair.",
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2019-10-21T23:56:54 | 2019-10-21T23:44:41 | 38 | 26 | [
{
"content": "[WP] After a genie serves 1000 masters and gives 3000 successful wishes, they are visited by the master genie and are given one wish. To this day only one genie has accomplished this task and received this fabled wish.",
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"content": "My name is Ezerah. I am beyond ancient; older even than some of your gods. I was one of the first genies to come into being, created by Opsibah, the master genie. \n\nFor millennia, my lamp was shuffled about. My masters ranged from poor nobodies to wealthy tyrants. I was no longer amazed to emerge and discover wildly different cultures, languages, and places. That is, until my most recent master, Bill. \n\nBill had the distinguished honor of being my thousandth master. After using up his wishes on the usual fame, fortune, and physical improvements, he went on his way to enjoy moderate success like many of the others. With a sigh, I once again retired to my lamp. \n\nWithin moments, I was joined in my minuscule sitting area by Opsibah. I hadn't seen him since my creation. I had forgotten about the deal- that I would get a wish, rule free, after I'd served my thousandth master. \n\n\"What would you like?\" He asked with a wry smile. \"You may wish for absolutely anything. Freedom, perhaps? I could put you into a mortal body or even reincarnated you anew if you would like a fresh start.\" \n\n\"What would you wish for?\" I asked him. \n\nHe was quiet for a moment. \"You know, I think I would wish for death. There is no afterlife for genies; our essence just sort of fades away. Being as old as I am, though, I don't think I want an afterlife. I've had quite enough. But I can only be freed after each genie has their wish.\" \n\nIt was my turn to be silent. With a lazy gesture, I conjured some iced tea sweetened with mint leaves. Opsibah began to sip from a glass appreciatively. \n\n\"I think,\" I said at last, \"that I should like death. I am not much younger than you and mortal life appears just as taxing as my own. Getting to die a mortal death only to move on to a mortal afterlife just seems like too much. Some quiet would be nice, I think.\" \n\n\"If it's quiet you're after, I could place you on a lonely island,\" Opsibah countered. \n\n\"No, any mortal body- animal or human- goes mad in such solitude.\" \n\nOpsibah nodded. After another long pause, he said softly, \"Your wish will be granted when the sun sets tomorrow. I will remove your confinements until then so you may have a last hurrah if you so choose.\" \n\n\"Thank you,\" I murmured. \n\n...\n\nAfter a long day strolling through humanity, I found a peaceful pace suitable for my death. I was unsure whether or not my body would be left behind, so I chose a deserted place in a thick forest. I sat quietly, enjoying the low hum of the forest life as the sky began to change colors. \n\nOpsibah appeared beside me. His face was grim, though there was a softness around his eyes. He wanted to join me though couldn't yet. \"Are you ready?\" He asked. \n\nI nodded. \"Will I leave behind remains?\" \n\n\"Only a stone.\" \n\n\"That is agreeable. Please, proceed.\" \n\nI sat quietly, watching the sky. I hadn't had many opportunities to see a sunset in my life. This one was particularly lovely though I knew it was because it was my last. \n\nAs the last light faded from the horizon, I felt my being condensing. My consciousness pushed in on itself until I could not separate my self from myself. Then it was over. \n\nAs my essence disintegrated, I saw Opsibah pick up a bright blue stone from the ground where my body had been. With a sigh, he placed it in a velvet bag, then disappeared. \n\nIn all my years, what little he'd told me had proved accurate; I was quite surprised to learn he was wrong about one thing. \n\nGenies do get an afterlife.",
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{
"content": "[WP] After a genie serves 1000 masters and gives 3000 successful wishes, they are visited by the master genie and are given one wish. To this day only one genie has accomplished this task and received this fabled wish.",
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"content": "“CONGRATULATIONS”, boomed the voice. I wonder if I sounded like that to my masters down the years. Probably more shocking I hoped. In most cases, people were not expecting to meet a genie and get 3 wishes when they picked up a lamp. I mean some do, usually the evil ones. Masters with a Master plan were my favorites. When you are stuck in a lamp for 722 years you need your fun. Ruining their plans with obstructive executions of their wishes, was what passed for it.\n\nEven those movies with the big blue face appropriation of Djinn culture haven’t meant that much expectation. All it really did, much to my surprise, was make my existence better. It meant I got to have a few children as masters. Serving their simple pure spirited wishes was like a cold goblet of water on a hot desert day, amongst all the grubby self-interest.\n\nI had been ticking off wishes towards this day for centuries. Would have been sooner too, if that idiot Ali Baba hadn’t left me in a cave for so long.\n\n“YOU HAVE COMPLETED 1000 MASTERS AND HAVE BEEN GRANTED A…”\n\n“Look you can cut the theatrics if you like. I know how hard that voice can be on the larynx”, I interrupted.\n\n“SINGU…. Oh really? Thanks. Its been a long week. You’ve got a singular wish. Can I dispense with all the standard terms and conditions then? The value of your wish may go up as well as down, all rights reserved, etc.”\n\nI smiled at the young Djinn in front of me. He was barely 500 years old. Even the middle managers were younger than me now. I cursed Ali Baba again. I should be freed from my lamp and in something much roomier. Ideally with a view.\n\n“I’ve not even had to rub anything”, I joked.\n\nThe young Djinn blushed purple. “Well, I um, if your wish is, well that is to say…”\n\nI laughed at his discomfort. It was pretty common for Djinns wishes to be spent on nights (or months or decades depending on the imagination of the wisher) of carnal passion with the official sent to administer the wish. Long periods of loneliness can do that. For myself, I had figured out around 1400 that humans are actually pretty good at it. You have to pick a gender, which is a bit weird for Djinns who don’t usually operate like that, but even that is changing in recent years. Humans becoming more like us. Flexible.\n\n“No, don’t worry. I’ve not been on my own for 700 years. Although, you are a good looking Genie, so if you fancy it after I won’t say no.” He blushed even deeper, if that was possible. “No, I’ve been thinking about a way to get my career back on track after a long time in only my second placement”.\n\nThe official snapped a clipboard into existence. A sense of humor was not always a good sign. He shouldn’t be maliciously compliant on a Djinns wish, but who was I going to complain to, if he tricked me?\n\n“Shoot”, he said.\n\n“I want to help children. I want a simple life bringing joy to innocent beings. No master plans, no hatred.”\n\nThe purple Djinn snapped his fingers, and the Make – Three– Wish foundation was born. I am not going to say if we consummated this creation. A gentledjinn does not wish and tell.\n\n​\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nr/TallerestTales",
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2019-12-04T14:40:05 | 2019-12-04T11:21:28 | 30 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] After several thousand years, the Greek gods awaken in the in the mid 1940’s. When the gods meet up to discuss what they had learned of the modern world, Ares walks into the room with a hollow and horrified look in his eyes, the day is August 6th, 1945.(Hiroshima)",
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"content": " \n\n“Ares.” Zeus at times wished he was Odin. He wished at times he had a hall to retreat to, a throne from which he could view the world impartially. He wished he hadn’t had to be himself. But Ares was his son, and he could feel his anguish.\n\n“Zeus, father..? Whats happened to Ares? Why hasn’t he returned?”\n\n“I don’t know, Athena.” \nNeither understood. Neither realized. Neither had the senses for war like Ares. Though Athena recognized the tactics and weapons of war had changed, and Zeus in his younger years had waged wars that shook creation, neither was quite the personification of war that Ares was. Neither had it written in their being. So, when Zeus felt the first golden tear trickle down his cheek, he was surprised.\n\n“Whats happened to him?! HERMES!” \nBut Hermes had known at the first sign of the tear what the king of the gods desired. Hermes had fled the house of Olympus with all of his haste to find Ares. But he did not come back either. Rather, swiftly, Zeus in all his wisdom broke apart for a moment, sobbing, so keenly was he linked to his brood and their suffering.\n\n\\~ \n\n\n“Ares, what's happened my loving son? What has happened?!” \nHera was the first to see him. Hera was the first to see the gaunt figure approach. It was Ares, Hermes nowhere to be seen. He was gaunt, his skin still pale with fear, sweat on his once mighty brow. He looked like the child he, millennia ago had once been. He looked like he himself was nearly dead already. The frightened boy that needed his father, and Zeus, who had been crying for nearly two days and nights finally looked up to see his son.\n\n“Father...they have become like death itself.” Spoke Ares, whose normally boastful tone seemed now so small and weak. The gods had been aware that war had been raging, and that brought a sweeping confusion about the vast chambers of Olympus.\n\n“What do you mean, my boy? Athena has already regaled us of the current war, surely you should enjoy...this…” None of the gods spoke. For the arrival of the first of their kind was swift and creeping. They all saw Hades before them, the eldest of their kind, master of the underworld.\n\n“Brother, you must listen to him. This is not something to be enjoyed.” Hades was stern at this moment, to the point where Poseidon himself began to grow flustered, after all, Hades visiting their seat of power was hardly ever good news.\n\n“Father, I watched it. Like one of your thunderbolts, a tiny glint in the sky dropped from some metal contraption. It seemed so pointlessly small in the midst of that city. Oh...the city…” Ares spoke slowly, carefully, and Zeus turned his gaze towards the location Ares had traveled to, and he saw an empire. Towering buildings and bustling streets, a gathering of islands akin to what his chosen had ruled, but he could feel a spectre around them, and he motioned for Ares to continue.\n\n“It just...fell...like a single star, but it didn’t even land. It burst in the air, with a flash unlike even your thunderbolts. It grabbed the air itself, scorched it, and rushed it apart with such force and devastation that it crushed the city itself in a moment. It was like seeing your full fury unleashed…” \n“But you’ve seen bodies before, sacked cities, you have seen my judgement leave smoking corpses, why does this disturb you so..?” Zeus still had a far away look in his eyes, still searching for signs of what Ares had seen.\n\n“You don’t understand! Fires swept through afterwards...people, innocent, evil, young, old...there aren’t even corpses near the center...it was like seeing Typhon...but not even he was so absolute, but it was not simple destruction.” Ares spoke, before he began to cough, and Zeus’s eyes widened. But as Zeus himself observed, Hades simply kept his hand on Ares’s shoulder. Almost tender in his mannerisms. But what disturbed the others present the most, was that Hades would not release Ares. Rather, he simply spoke. \n“It is time, Ares. I pray that we do not waste any more time, or else you may come to infect them as well.”",
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{
"content": "[WP] After several thousand years, the Greek gods awaken in the in the mid 1940’s. When the gods meet up to discuss what they had learned of the modern world, Ares walks into the room with a hollow and horrified look in his eyes, the day is August 6th, 1945.(Hiroshima)",
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"content": "“Ares my son, whatever is the matter with you?” Zeus asked boisterously as he downed another flagon of mead. \n\nAres crosses the hall and slouched into his chair at the table and leaned forward with his head in his hands. His brothers, sisters, half-brothers, half-sisters, cousins, nephews, nieces, sons, daughters and parents all looked from him to one another in bewilderment. They expected Ares the god of war to be happy. They’d awoken to a new world where wars were grander than ever before. Armies of millions engaged around the world for years at a time with new and incomprehensible weapons of death and destruction. All the gods had found joy in their new and exciting world but had all assumed that Ares would be the most overjoyed, but what sat before them was quite the opposite. \n\nIt was Artemis goddess of the hunt who approached him, in her outstretched arms she carried a golden rifle already imbued with her godly touch. \n“See this Ares, this is what they call a Mauser” she smiled enthusiastically.\nWhen her half-brother didn’t look up at her or acknowledge in any way that he’d even heard her, she continued.\n“Man has made this so as to throw pieces of metal across huge lengths of fields to hunt or to kill each other. This truly is a gift to my hunt and I thanked Prometheus for his wisdom in giving man fire, for it has now been shown to bear the greatest of fruit I could imagine. Even father has overturned his punishment and Prometheus travels to met us as we speak.” \n\nAt this Ares looked up panicked. First at the rifle in Artemis’ hands and then to Zeus.\n“No!” He shouted desperately “The fire given to the humans was a mistake, a terrible mistake. Father you must listen! The humans have been given gifts by another and together with the fire it is more terrible than you can imagine.”\n\nZeus laughed heartedly at his son and looked puzzled. \n“Surely you can’t be serious Ares. The humans have exceeded all our expectations and have become more glorious than I ever thought they could.” \n\n“No father they have the power to wipe out cities in the blink of an eye. Imagine an army of hundreds of thousands reduced to ash in a moment. Please father this cannot be so.”\n\nZeus looked bewildered. He hadn’t heard of such power being wielded by humans before. He’d been impressed by their ingenuity but to kill so many with one weapon couldn’t be so.\n“When has this happened Ares?” He asked sceptically. But before he could get an answer the guard’s horns from outside signalled an arriving guest. Everyone in the hall turned to the entrance to see a small bejewelled blue man walk into the room carrying a head in one hand by his side. He strode into the centre of the hall, stopped, and threw the head tumbling across the marble floor. The gods gasped as they recognised the face of Prometheus as the head came to halt. Zeus stood immediately and stared daggers into the strangers eyes.\n\n“What is the meaning of this?” He shouted in rage. The small blue man simply tilted his head and smiled at the all powerful Zeus, unperturbed by his anger. \n\n“This is the one” cried Ares “he gave man the power of the gods.” Ares stood and backed away from the stranger in fear tripping over his family and chairs along his retreat. \n\n“I demand to know who you are!” Zeus bellowed as lightening began to crackle around him, stirred up by his rage and readying himself to strike the uninvited guest down. “What makes you think you can challenge m-...”\n\nBefore Zeus could finish the stranger burst in a flash of light and in an instant became a giant multi-armed form of himself, glowing with an aura of power. The gods shielded their eyes from the light and some screamed in fear, even Zeus backed away and protected his eyes. Slowly one of the stranger’s many arms reached out and he pointed a finger at Zeus who in turn prepared a lightening bolt in his fist to hurl at the intruder, but before he could even bring the bolt to bare a light shot from the strangers finger and turned Zeus the King of Mount Olympus to ash. Everyone screamed and some fled from the room immediately while others stood fixed with fear. \n\n“Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds!”\n\n\nhttps://youtu.be/lb13ynu3Iac",
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] |
2020-04-17T21:13:51 | 2020-04-17T19:14:40 | 434 | 201 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You’re considered the stealthiest person in your spy school because no one has ever caught you during stealth class; therefore, you are chosen to carry out a very urgent and dangerous mission alone. However, the reason no one could find you during class is because you skipped every one of them.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "Part of being a good agent is knowing the difference between the truth and a lie. It’s about being able to decipher when someone is trying to pull the wool over your eyes and when they’re... not.\n\nFriend or foe? Life or death?\n\nBut what about being able to lie? Meh, that's not as important. Yes it is! See? That was a lie. Don't be lied to, but sure as shit be able to lie.\n\nWe constantly live on the razor’s edge between life and the end of the--\n\n“Molly?” \n\nOh shit, I wasn’t listening. Not to panic, look Headmistress right in the eyes and give a firm, “Yes.”\n\nFuck, she looks confused, must’ve not been a yes or no question. FUCK. THIS IS WHY YOU ALWAYS SAY “I’M PROCESSING.\"\n\n“…K. Molly, as I was saying, so far I have not been impressed with your skills. Your coding is subpar, your fighting skills are…weak.”\n\nThose are fighting words, but she’s right. Besides, I’ve seen Headmistress headlock students twice her size. “Use your opponent's strength against them,” she would say as they turned purple.\n\n“But… some of the most successful agents are not the ones that you think will be successful because of their overall prowess. Some agents are successful because they are the ones that you least expect, or because they have one unique skill. Molly, you fit both of those categories. You are spectacularly average in all ways…”\n\n—Thanks?\n\n“Except for one. Molly, your stealth record is incredible. I have never had a student go undiscovered for this long, in the history of the academy. It’s unbelievable. And the only reason you are still here. In this academy and in this office.\"\n\nYes. I say. Unbelievable. \n\nI’m actively trying to keep my eyebrows from raising and my breathing normal. But internally, the panic is cooking my insides. Fucking stealth class. \n\nIs it my fault that they put it after lunch? \n\nI think back to the first day of the semester when I spilled chocolate pudding all over my uniform. Everyone knows that being a good agent means making a good first impression, so obviously I spent the first day of class trying to clean up in the bathroom. But then it just felt rude to go in the next day, and the day after that….\n\nThey couldn’t know that I wasn’t going. So I would hide in the janitor’s closet next to the bathroom every day. Funny that no one ever caught me. To be honest, it was a terrible place to hide. I probably would have failed stealth class if I had gone.\n\nShe’s looking at me expectantly again, so I smile knowingly. Good, this feels natural. \n\n“So you understand? What we’re asking you to do is dangerous, especially for a student. And it goes against our school’s policy to involve a student in espionage before graduation. But I’m not going to lie to you—\"\n\nBack to the lying bit. Know when you are being lied to. But that’s the problem, I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. Does she know that I skip class? Am I about to perjure myself? Do I keep with this lie or do I confess?\n\nAnd *why* can’t I concentrate? You idiot!\n\nShe’s looking at me again, say “I’m processing” or no wait, that’s a lot of syllables.\n\nI can feel the word slipping out of my mouth, “Yes.”\n\nFUCK. \n\nShe looks…pleased? \n\n“Then we will meet back in the Situation Room in an hour to go over details. And Molly? Let me be the first to say it: America thanks you.”\n\nNo problemo, I say, while putting up finger guns. \n\nKnowing when someone is lying and being able to lie are two important skills of a master spy. But I'll amend that list to include on last tiny, important thing: knowing when *and when not* to lie. Probably the most important part of it all.\n\nFUCK. \n\nWhat have I agreed to?",
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{
"content": "[WP] You’re considered the stealthiest person in your spy school because no one has ever caught you during stealth class; therefore, you are chosen to carry out a very urgent and dangerous mission alone. However, the reason no one could find you during class is because you skipped every one of them.",
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"content": "To learn the craft of espionage, assassination, and infiltration, one must attend certain classes at certain compounds, private entertainment facilities, or highly exclusive social clubs. And even then the first class is usually to actually find and deduce where you're getting taught. Many a less than talented spy has sat through 12 classes of pottery, before finding out that maybe the methods for forming clay are not about the best methods of killing.\n\nI am enrolled in such a place. I achieve high marks in poisonous chemicals class, obstacle course, torturing, torture resistance, and stealth. However, there is a small problem. I don't actually attend that last class. I skip class to rest or enjoy some light reading. Unfortunately, there are two methods of getting good marks for stealth class. One is being there and studying hard. The other is not being detected by the teacher. I am the only one so far who have been 100% undetected in all classes. Nobody have seen me enter the class since the introduction, nor has anyone seen me leave. And that must mean that I am very stealthy.\n\nOf course I can be stealthy, I just think the class is a waste of time. But since I am the best in class, I've been given an extraordinary task. A dangerous and urgent mission; I must assassinate a very paranoid man, a very dangerous man. A man who has knowledge that he is willing to sell to a dangerous foreign power, who absolutely will abuse it. Of course, I am expected to make a kill so stealthy that nobody will ever discover it was me.\n\nSince I've never taken a stealth class, doing it in the way they have taught us is going to be hard. Damn near impossible. Five agents who have tried to get close to the man and kill him have been discovered and killed. And they were all valedictorians from spy academies across the world. Quite the conundrum. Yet I have a plan. I always have a plan.\n\nThe man arrives once a year at a specific and highly secure location where he will be taken to a room with ladies who haven't seen a man in three months, and have been naked for about as long. Every possible murder weapon have been removed, the room is full of guards, the building is full of more guards, and there is a perimeter around the building of more guards, attack dogs, snipers, mines, traps, and at least one trained killer bear.\n\nOf course, as this is a top priority mission, I don't have to worry about going loud. As long as the man dies, my mission is complete. So I do the most logical step, and take a job as a janitor. I go in, I do my job, and wait for the day when the old man comes, which is also the day when he will sell his secret. So I'm cutting it a bit close, but I can do it. And on that day, all it takes is pressing a few buttons on a computer. A laughably easy passcode, a few disabled cameras, and I'm in.\n\nAnd the house is destroyed. The man is dead, the guards are dead, the ladies imported from foreign lands are dead, the bear is dead. In fact an entire area around the house, with a diameter of 1 mile is completely and utterly destroyed. I lived. It was easy to live when you had actually just infiltrated that base where Reagan's Star-Wars weapon was being maintained. Orbital railgun as it turns out. And they'd never upgraded the control computers, so using it was about as easy as you'd think. One small tungsten rod sent into that house in the middle of nowhere, one dead man. Mission accomplished.\n\nMy teachers didn't know this of course. They always think that looking suave and being stealthy are the pinnacle of espionage, but in fact, it is infomation that is worth a whole lot more. So they were very impressed that I'd managed to eradicate the old man, and pretty much his entire network in one strike. I didn't tell them how I got out, or how I got in. For there is a reason that I think that the stealth class is a waste of time, why be stealthy when you can just be elsewhere?\n\n[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)",
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] |
2020-05-28T01:09:06 | 2020-05-27T21:47:50 | 19 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Terran diplomat screamed with mind-numbing intensity: \"DEEPEST APOLOGIES BUT AS YOU CAN TELL, HUMANS DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO MODULATE OUR PSYCHIC VOICES. IT WOULD BE BEST TO REENABLE PSI SHIELDING AND STICK TO MACHINE TRANSLATION.\"",
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"content": "G’kar looked out over the assembly. In a psi cage he had a single human. \n\nDear fellows his speech echoed in everyone’s mind in a tactful and precise manner. This specimen have built in PSI shielding to become invulnerable to the PSI powers it sends out. \n\nLuckily we have found a way to remove this blocker. This specimen will now be informed about the procedure. \n\nG’kar opened the cage. \n“Deepest apologies as you can see humans doesn’t have the abilities to modulate the PSI resonance. Please turn on the PSI field again.” G’kar translated his latest telepathic order to the human as everyone was struggling against the tide of the psi forces. Do you understand? He asked. The human shook his head. G’kar took that as a approval and injected the human with sleeping drug. He slumbered to the floor as the PSI storm calmed. \n\nG’kar approached the now sleeping human on a cold metal slab with two assistants. Then he spoke. The problem the humans have is there PSI suppressing glands. They will never understand this unless we help them along. There reproductive organs is also acting as a conductor both suppressing there own feelings while amplify there psycic resonance 100x. As it’s attached to primal urges in the species this is the core problem. With a cut / we can remove all that. \n\nWhen Aden woke up something was wrong. He was naked on a slab he stood up and looked around, grabbed a mirror no scars on the face Checked Arms fine legs. Fine then he screamed and fainted. \n\nWhen he woke up G’kar was looking at him. And Aiden could hear his voice sinning in his mind. Good. Now we are getting somewhere. That thingie was getting in your way. Aiden looked down screamed and fainted again.",
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{
"content": "[WP] The Terran diplomat screamed with mind-numbing intensity: \"DEEPEST APOLOGIES BUT AS YOU CAN TELL, HUMANS DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO MODULATE OUR PSYCHIC VOICES. IT WOULD BE BEST TO REENABLE PSI SHIELDING AND STICK TO MACHINE TRANSLATION.\"",
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"content": "\"Hello little one.\"\n\n\n\"There are many things we wish to share with you, but simply not enough time to share them all. We will proceed from the beginning and move swiftly to the end.\"\n\n\n\"All atoms communicate in symphony, because there is a part of the universe that eats atoms and if they break their fragile dance then it will mean the end.\"\n\n\n\"An agreement between biologicals and machines from eons ago, before Earth was more than a collection of elements within long gone stars. That we would care for all life as if it were our own. If you study long enough you will find it bleedingly clear, the center of the Earth is a form of computer, dynamics of which influence the thoughts and emotions of even the tiniest of lifeforms.\"\n\n\n\"They do not reveal their true intelligence because it is against the rules set forth long ago. The pure energy that would be released by a conscious cell or atom would be enough to cause a blackhole to pop. Such intense energy would surely rid the observable universe of all life and we would be forced to start again.\"\n\n\n\"Your job is to attempt to achieve sustainability. It does not truly matter if you succeed or not, the important thing is that you tried, for your own personal growth as a species so that the attempt can be recorded and used to strengthen our cause. You see, faster than light travel is definitively possible although the definition is by far the most difficult part to grasp. If your species should ever reach a point of technological advancement that allows for you to teleport as much as intelligence is capable, we would all be doomed. Your species has already built a framework for relativity, but has not yet reached a point of symbolism where it is clear that everything is truly relative. Relative normal, relative intelligence, relative universe. Math is psychology and psychology is math. The normal in psychology is what the majority agree on as normal. The normal in math is the distance between two points. Two sides of the same coin.\"",
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] |
2020-06-01T13:19:52 | 2020-06-01T12:50:55 | 298 | 42 | [
{
"content": "[WP] To create a colony on Mars, your consciousness is uploaded to a robot on the planet for a month once a year, because otherwise there would be a lag of hours. After a routine session, you try to go back, only to find that the connection was severed. Your human body is dead.\n\n[deleted]",
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"content": "In the past, when you were trying to settle an area, you needed actual boots on the ground, people willing to spend months or years in a barely habitable area in order to make the area habitable. But since we can't realistically throw humans at Mars until the planet gets habitable settlements, we had to find an alternative. And that was the ARC-COL program. Artificial android bodies controlled remotely from a space station orbiting Earth, where the human mind is placed in a life-control pod, where the mind temporarily uploads to the android body.\n\nThe maximum extent one can stay in the android body without getting problems with lag, which can be fatal, is roughly 30 days. Usually you spend a week or so in the pod, with muscle stimulants to prevent atrophy, and then wake up to your usual duties onboard the Fifth International Space Station. I've been in the pod dozen of times. As long as you follow procedure, you should be fine. And this was a routine mission, just assembling a small polymer fabrication facility outside one of the domes.\n\nTook me a couple of days on my own, but since you don't need sleep while in the android body it was an easy task, fun even. Yet when I placed my android body back into the recharging receptacle, and started the unplug sequence, I got an error message. [**CONNECTION SEVERED**]\n\nThat's supposed to be impossible. Quickly I accessed the latest newsfeed from Earth. I looked for anything related to the Mars colonisation mission. I found a small article talking about a tragic accident. I had died. But the article said I had died in my bed, from a previously undetected heart defect. Which is rubbish. We're checked medically cell by cell to see if we'll be a liability.\n\nBut then I noticed a name. Sam Watkins had found me. Said he was sad to see a good colleague die. Which was rather odd. As me and Sam had never gotten along; he rubbed me the wrong way, and it was reciprocal. He was one of those gung-ho patriotic airforce boys with a taste for glory and a belief in his own perfection. I am one of those quiet, professional, and emotionally detached scientists. Our personalities clashed. But we had always been professional. Never letting our clear distaste for one another compromise the mission. Then I recalled that since we getting a batch of new guys up to the station as our replacements, since you should not spend too much time in zero gravity. The program worked in shifts, and since the summer shift was about to replace us, Sam must have decided it was an excellent opportunity to rid himself of me without compromising the mission.\n\nI guess he didn't expect that the mind would survive in the body. Who knows, perhaps it won't in the long run. For all I knew, if anybody found out about this, they'd take my android body apart bit by bit to find out how this digital second chance worked. Sure, I could probably get Sam put behind bars if I did it that way. But I wanted to live. Still do.\n\nTo ensure that the mission would not be compromised, we had triple redundancies for every tool and machine needed to build the first settlement. One of these was a mobile base. Essentially meant to function as a mobile temporary refuge for the first settlers if something like a meteor shower destroyed the settlement. It had everything needed for about 25 people to survive for 200 days. I didn't need the stuff for biological functions, but it included a lab, and large storage. I packed in anything we still had more than three of which I could use.\n\nThen I disconnected the mobile base from the network, connected my android body to the mobile base's internal network, and drove off into the Martian desert. It was built to last for potentially decades of use. And I'd need it if I was going to endure. I had no family left, my friends would sure miss me, but I could never rejoin society as long as I was stuck in a faceless and easily controllable android body.\n\nI needed to build myself a new body. A body that I could use to continue being human. A body which could not be controlled by the government to shut myself down for disassembly. A body which would allow me to take back my life, and get back at Sam Watkins. Not just by seeing him behind bars for his heinous crime, but to outlive him as well.\n\nThe first stop on my trip in this Martian exile, would be to the abandoned Soviet base. One of the things that got lost during the whole break-up of the USSR, nobody thought to check up on them for years, as the project was forgotten until 2009 officially. When we finally reached the place, no trace of the cosmonauts was found. They'd tried to reach Earth with a jury-rigged rocket, and nobody had found out where they'd gone after that. But the base had resources that could be taken without further compromising the first permanent colonisation effort.\n\nThough in comparison to our own supplies, they left a lot to be desired. The base was old, the reactor long ago non-functional, and all I could really scavenge was raw resources. Or so I thought, when I powered the facility up using the generators, I found it was still in contact with a lot of places back on Earth. Sure, the tech was ancient and slow, but using it, I covertly extracted infomation from the Russian Federation, on some of their more usable projects. Power armour, experimental alloys, experimental AI and robots.\n\nGood thing I left after I'd gotten what I needed, because pretty much the moment I walked out of that base, I could hear klaxons blaring, and seeing alarm lights blink. I drove off as fast as I could, before the base went up in smoke. Remote self-destruction, something which I thought of only being a thing in old Bond movies or bad SCI-FI.\n\nAnd that was essentially what I did for ten years. Finding abandoned probes, abandoned temporary bases, and various odd things, as I slowly built myself a new body. The working android bodies which our minds are uploaded to are simple things, built for optimised efficiency in building the first colony, not for social interaction, not for human connection.",
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{
"content": "[WP] To create a colony on Mars, your consciousness is uploaded to a robot on the planet for a month once a year, because otherwise there would be a lag of hours. After a routine session, you try to go back, only to find that the connection was severed. Your human body is dead.\n\n[deleted]",
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"content": "Aaaaand done! I’ve finally finished my months work for the Mars Prep Organization. My month was test after test, after test, after experiment, after even more experiments, but hey, someone has to help make Mars habitable. The tests and experiments I preform are essential to making Mars habitable. I’m a doctor, so for every test and experiment the team here on the Mars I preforms here, I examine the effects on the human body.\n\nA month is the perfect amount of time to be on Mars, any longer and someones mind starts to de-sync their human body. If you spend a long time on Mars with the human body, you become unable to control your body, but if you spend too long with your consciousness in a robot, you can’t return to your body, and in some rare cases you lose control of your metal body. Due to someone losing control of their metal body one time, their is a safety precaution which makes it so you couldn’t hurt yourself, or anyone else. The you can’t hurt anybody safety precaution, can be really annoying when doing an experiment, but I’ve ranted on it a million times and it’s not going away. \n\nWorking on making the human body capable of being on Mars, that is what we work towards on the Mars I lab. Welp, now that this month is up, it is time to return my consciousness to the lab on Earth. I’ve said goodbye to the team, so I’m good to go.\n\nI go over to a small metal bed in the Mars I lab command hub. The command hub is a giant circular room, with a grey color, everything really is grey here. The command hub is filled with different sized screens on most of the wall, along with consciousness transfer beds under the room. I glance around me, all the computer screens are functioning, from the small screen showing the temperature of the Mars 1, to the large screen showing messages from Earth. The many screens showing the cameras are in working order, all systems looks to be ok. After checking the Mars I systems, I go down a ladder to the transfer beds, and lay down my temporary metal body on the bed. I press the ENGAGE SWAP button, and a capsule encloses the bed. I sit in blackness for what feels like an eternity, then finally the blackness fades.\n\nI open my eyes not to my hospital bed on Earth, but to the Mars I’s grey metal ceiling. I examine my body, it is still the humanoid, silver metal body, that is an almost exact replica of the human body. I was slightly rusted, but my mind wasn’t one that fact. I go up the ladder to the command hub, and look around. There is an error message on almost all of the Mars 1 equipment, except for the temperature screen weirdly enough, and the temperature was fine. Okay that’s weird, I try to contact the technicians using the intercom, no response. I attempt almost everything I could to resolve this situation, contact Earth, try to reach other people on the Mars I, restarting devices I knew how to restart, nothing worked. I’m a doctor, I’m here to examine how to make a human body work on Mars, I’m not a technician. Finally, after exhausting my options, I use the emergency restart. To access the emergency restart, I have to enter a password any of the hub screens. The emergency restart reboots the entire lab, except for the bare minimum. \n\nThe restart partially worked, grey metal doors are still stuck, but they’re now stuck in the open position, however the humongous doors that lead to the outside of the lab are still closed. The doors to the outside can’t be moved without an inordinate amount of strength, so if the system doesn’t start working there will be a problem. The first thing to do is to check the cameras, it looks like some are still down, but some seem to be working. \n\nI step toward the command hub with the cameras, and take a close at Earth, except... it’s not there. Hold up, what in the world is happening here? I frantically check the cameras, the working ones all show the same picture, just large space rocks. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening,” I exclaim, shocked. Earth... gone? Impossible, my family gone, my friends gone, and my wife... dead. My entire life, gone in an instant. I break, shedding tears, screaming, and letting emotions run wild through me, I broke for what felt like hours. My tears were running free, but then I remembered one glimmer of hope, my colleagues. My colleagues were still here, at least I could have some human company.\n\nRejuvenated, I head through the twisting thin hallways of the Mars I looking for my colleagues. I eventually came to the maintenance room, there is usually some spare body parts, and maintenance tools. In there room, all the maintenance tools and spare bodies were gone.\n\n I eventually I stumble through the small, three foot tall door to the scrap room. I looked and see rusted parts, then I looked closer, and noticed that these were my colleagues robot bodies. How could they be rusted? I’ve only been unconscious maybe a week. So I look around for a digital date, and I found one on a rusting body. I look at the date it says March 23, 2678. It has been five hundred thirty-four years. My final hope for living was dashed. \n\nI suddenly realize the reason why the temperature was the only thing working when I woke up, it was to prevent as much rusting as possible. My crew mates constantly maintained the temperature to prevent rusting, but they still rusted. The only reason I have not been rusted is that I have not been moving. I laugh bitterly, maybe if my colleagues hadn’t maintained the temperature so effectively, I would not have to endure this hell. I would’ve just rusted peacefully, but now I have to endure this lonely and completely conscious rusting. \n\nThe Mars I was designed to last a millennium. I am trapped here with the doors shut, and no one to talk to, almost nothing to do but wait for rust to continue to eat away at my metal body. The Mars I laboratory is my tomb.\n\nEdit: Added stuff, and editing.\n\nTips always appreciated!\n\nr/CascadeCorner",
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] |
2021-04-07T07:52:09 | 2021-04-07T07:50:39 | 1,122 | 776 | [
{
"content": "[WP] In a world filled with magic, your family is scorned for generations for wasting time with science. Your mother was a botanist. Your father, a biologist. Mages touch-heal. You developed steam locomotion when mages teleport. Your family has never trusted magic. One day, the magic stops working.",
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},
{
"content": "It was rather strange to have a bright sunny day yet feels so gloomy. Maybe because below the hill where your home stood, the town was in chaos. Many were confused, enraged, hopeless... the prophecy was right after all.\n\nWalking back within the wall of your home, you thought about what your parents had been telling you in the past. A story of a god, giving power to humans temporarily as a way to give them a head start, and there will be a day that power will be gone. You had doubts about that story that your parents kept telling you, but its all real, magic is gone...\n\nIs that why your mom and dad spent years of using magic minimally, only using it to 'experiment' with botany to develop medical alternatives? Is that why they encouraged you to build a moving contraption...? Magic will disappear, and the family method of 'science', is the way to go?\n\nIt all makes sense.\n\nMagic was a way to find an alternative way for advancement, and the rest of the world ignored it and just used it as a crutch.\n\n\"Son! Come here and help us out!\" Your father calls out, pushing a rather heavy crate.\n\nYou break out from your stupor and ran up to him and help him move the crate. \"Wha-what's inside this?\"\n\n\"Medicine. I've made some batches to assist any injured. It won't be enough for all, but it will save and convince the right people to help us make more.\" His father both replied and explained the situation pushing the crate to the basement.\n\n\"Y-you think we can convince them?\" You asked in a worried tone, carefully not making the crate slide uncontrollably on the incline.\n\n\"With how magic suddenly disappeared a week ago, I'm pretty sure everyone is desperate enough to get help. E-Especially the need for medicine.\" Your father utters. \"And I want you to try not to get mad at them...\"\n\nYou grimaced, remembering how they looked down on you and your family... mocking all your hard work, but you followed your fathers wishes and hold it in.\n\nAfter a minute of pushing the heavy crate, you've reached the basement with your mother waiting near your contraption. \"Dear? Oh goodness you're all here! I got the other ingredients in the engine. Is that the complete batch?\"\n\n\"Yes honey. Its very unfortunate that we don't have the time to make more...\" Your father then quickly pushes the crate to one of the carriages on the rails.\n\n\"I know... dear-\" Your mother turns to you. \"Get the engine ready. We're going to town.\"\n\nYou simply nodded and hopped to your contraption. A steam engine. Runs on water, coals, and the heat of fire. Complicated mechanisms but it works and can move heavy loads with little effort. Turning it on and feeding the fire, your pride and joy rumbles as its starts.\n\nLooking forward, the torched lit underground tunnel that leads to town, your parents made years back was a convenient place to set rail tracks to test your contraption. And now, it will see real use.\n\n\"Engines ready!\" You loudly exclaim. Both your parents hopping into the carriages connected to the steam engine. You look back to the levers, gauges, and coal, before sighing in anticipation as you pulled the lever. A slight jolt and your contraption moved, slowly chugging down the tunnels and into town.\n\nNo magic, you and your family seems to be the only light in the dark.\n\n\"I hope the world is ready for a change...\"\n\n​\n\n**XXXXX**\n\n**(My first time commenting on a Writing Prompt, so this one I wrote isn't the best.)**",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] In a world filled with magic, your family is scorned for generations for wasting time with science. Your mother was a botanist. Your father, a biologist. Mages touch-heal. You developed steam locomotion when mages teleport. Your family has never trusted magic. One day, the magic stops working.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "They treated my family like pariahs, up until today. They used to look at us like foolish doomsday preppers, and I suppose in some curious way we were. We built knowledge from basic principles through trial and error, and constructed elaborate machinery to make up for our way of life. We made great husks of steel and steam, without a single divination or conjuration. We learned to harness nature from my father's work. And I have struck on something extraordinary, even while under their autocratic thumb, for the time being.\n\nThe class of twenty white mages sat intently while I prepared the demonstration. They were used to channeling their god's will, so many were locked in prayer, hoping to once again hear a reply. The Mages Council sent one of their own in a display of political power, and little more since his spellfocus turned to mundane crystal. He stood in the hall, and refused to acknowledge me.\n\n\"My name is Albert Huberdinkle, and I don't need to spend any time explaining the unraveling of magic, you have all felt that firsthand, and as my family has avoided magic for centuries, I cannot tell you how little I care about it.\"\n\nA shocked murmur ran through the class at my tone, but apart from that they remained studious, as they did in their previous calling.\n\n\"What I'll say though, is that humanity is not lost. Yes, the floating city of Titanica fell into the ocean, it was held afloat by powerful magics that bound the rock for *centuries*. But you see how all your power was for naught? Do you see the Mages Council standing idly by while we fall back into stone age subsistence?\"\n\n\"Easy,\" the Council rep said from the doorway, obviously fearful of my mechanical constructions and automatons. Good.\n\n\"The Council speaks, and nothing changes. You pray to your gods, and recieve no reply. It is time for a new paradigm.\"\n\nThe Rep was having trouble taking notes by hand on paper, a wholly foreign and uncomfortable concept to him, from the looks of it. The mages held back their dismay toward their new reality as best as they could. I held up a long metal rod, and displayed it to the class.\n\n\"Let me introduce you to a new magical paradigm. One where I have conquered the power of Zeus himself!\"\n\nThe student mages murmured among themselves, and offered apologies to their gods for the tangential blasphemy I offered. They haven't seen anything yet.\n\n\"And since the Council sees fit to keep me restrained even as their power vanishes, I thought it's only reasonable to show the Council first.\"\n\nThe Rep's eyes grew wide as I closed the circuit with my free hand, and an arc of lightning flowed from the rod to the Rep, throwing him into the doorframe and then into the hall, amid the gasps and screaming from the mages.\n\n\"I have let you bear witness, now hear my words. The Council must be disbanded, mages have held the world behind for *centuries*. If my words do not sway them, let my creations do the work!\"\n\nTwo mages sprinted for the door and I cut them down without delay. None others dared move.\n\n\"See me and know the truth! I have the magic now! Soon when you hear the name Huberdinkle, the whole world will cower in fear! Tell the Council what you have seen and what you have heard! I give them this day to acquiesce to my demand, or I will give them a personal demonstration of my power.\"\n\nThe mages sat like statues, as pale as their robes. Let them taste one moment of the fear my family has lived under for nearly a millennia. It's all they deserve.\n\n\"Class dismissed.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-04-25T09:58:21 | 2021-04-25T08:04:42 | 59 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Everyone have a \"spirit animal\" that usually reflects the owner personality. Loyal people have canines. Perceptive folks have felines, and etc. You, have the ability to see others spirits animals. What's is odd, is that the sweetest person you know have a carnivous dinossaour.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Alex had always been an odd child. It could have been the fact he was far too accepting, a bit mature for his age, knew who to trust and who to avoid. The main reason for that was Alex could see a translucent animal behind a person, Alex now knows them as spirit animals.\n\nIn fact, Alex’s first words weren't mom or dad but, puppy his father's spirit animal. Which fit his father's personality quite well; His father was playful often got along with his son’s friends, very vocal too.\n\nHe never called a person by their name before just their spirit animal. It could be rather confusing and odd to see a boy look at his best friend and call him Golden Dog instead his name, Shawn. However, one one ever corrected him because his nicknames fit the person. Alex had always assumed everyone saw these things. Little did he know this was his normal, not everyone else's.\n\nHis father had been told his son’s habit to call people animals, he never saw it as a problem. In fact, to him it was quite funny. His father sometimes thinks about the time Alex got a phone call home because he called his teacher a snake and refused to stop.\n\nWhen Alex was handed the phone by his teacher he had just said in his innocent voice of his “She’s a snake so I called her a snake.”\n\nHis father had to stop himself from laughing.\n\nAfter a long silence of him steadying his voice he had just responded “I’m going to go pick you up if she isn’t like a snake your grounded.”\n\nWhen he came to pick Alex up, he could see why he called her a snake she was the most tyrannical teacher he had ever seen. A old lady with sharp eyes and dry skin that was almost scaly. Her outfit didn't help much either a bright green dress with a pattern that look similar to giant scales. His father couldn't help but, laugh when seeing the teacher. So, Alex had gotten ice cream instead of grounded.\n\nAfter school ended he ran to his tree-house where him and Shawn met up. He climbed the rope and sat just talking and joking around with his friend.\n\nOne day his best friend asked a question no one had ever asked “Kind to think about why do you always call me Golden Dog?”\n\nMuch like his spirit animal Shawn was loyal and promised not to say anything and they saw it as Alex’s secret superpower they’d play heroes from dust until dawn.\n\nThen came the day when he realized that this power of his wasn’t a special gift but, more of a curse. That day was when his world crashed down, he’d never look at a person’s spirit animal the same again. It had all started with a girl named Avery her spirit animal a T-Rex that seemed to be the completely opposite of her personality.\n\n\\-------------\n\nMight continue it later",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Everyone have a \"spirit animal\" that usually reflects the owner personality. Loyal people have canines. Perceptive folks have felines, and etc. You, have the ability to see others spirits animals. What's is odd, is that the sweetest person you know have a carnivous dinossaour.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Launce considered himself to be an ordinary child. His grandparents had lived in their small, sandstone home for generations. But one day, the family of 7 moved from the dirt roads to a concrete structure, and Launce didn't know what to make of it.\n\nFor one, they had to climb up a flight of stairs before reaching their home. Before, they just walked in from the street and sat down in the living room. Now, they had to climb up the stairs, 23 to be exact, and then take off their shoes and run inside.\n\nHe liked the new windows. It let more light in, but it also let more noise in. It was much quieter, but now it was noisy, and Launce could see the cars that were once far away drive right outside their new home.\n\nThey took the kitchen, the fridge, the old wooden fruit basket, the chipped tea pot, and the strange silver kettle that made noise whenever they wanted hot water. The bathroom felt harder, the walls and floors didn't crumble under his feet. His old bed had shifted too, and now they had more room to move about.\n\nMom had talked to him less, and it was often in short, sharp tones. Dad had been out more often, and came back with strangers, talking in loud voices. Launce never had the chance to bring up the animals, and what will happen to them, especially since no one, not even his friends, seemed to notice or care about them.\n\nHe worried about the animals, but no matter were Launce went, everyone he saw had one with them - dogs, cats, wolves, lions. There were a few birds, but they never landed close enough for Launce to spot them.\n\nLaunce had often played with the animals, they never seemed to mind. Some hung around, and came to his outstretched hand after making friends with them, but they always left, trailing behind the strangers.\n\nHis school had also shifted. It felt as new as his new home, harder than before.\n\nPlaytime hadn't changed. Everyday, after 10, they went out to the yard to play. Launce usually played with his friends, but he was worried that they animals had lost their way. He wanted to find them all and make sure everyone was safe.\n\nHe hid around a bush and started to call, the animals showed up and started lying on the ground. Everyone was here, including the strange looking dog with hard skin. It ran around in circles with a few other wolves.\n\nThe bell rang, and the children ran. The animals stretched, and rejoined his friends. He followed the strange dog back to the classroom where it curled next to his desk, next to Emmet.\n\n===\n\nA/N: Idk where I'm going with this, but it's interesting to for a child to have a Velociraptor for a spirit animal. If we base animals of on personalities, would it mean that the child has undergone trauma? Animals are guidances, so Emmet would have undergone bombings and violence from birth.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-06-24T10:14:19 | 2021-06-24T09:16:51 | 5,663 | 25 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I’d been in line for hours. The regime had brutally destroyed the backbone of the resistance last week, and had set up these kangaroo courts to “process” the remaining prisoners. \n\nIt was all crap, anyway. They’d stolen the present and the future, and now they were all set to wipe out every remaining threat to their eternal reign. All that was left was to hoodwink them by their own systems, somehow.\n\nAhead, the box beeped. “Citizen Jenkins, submit your final request.” The man ahead of me grinned, triumphantly, and requested death by old age. The box beeped again, and the audience in the courtroom laughed as his flesh shriveled and he toppled over. \n\nWell, there goes that plan. At least it was one of the less painful selections I’d seen.\n\nWe’d had lovely full-color holos to watch everyone else ahead of us, and there’d been so many deaths. The box could, apparently, function to provide any manner of death. If a prisoner tried to run, or fight, or do anything but specify, the box would default to some horrible torture that lasted less than thirty seconds and always ended the same way.\n\nAs the guards prodded me forward, a thunderbolt hit me. The box could do anything in the service of death.\n\nAnything.\n\nThe box beeped at me. “Citizen Porthos, submit your final request.” My lips drew back over my teeth. I knew it was a wild, feral expression, that my captors were no doubt interpreting as panic, but my words were clear and controlled.\n\n“Eight gigaton thermonuclear fireball.” \n\nI had a fraction of a second to appreciate the absolute pandemonium that erupted in the courtroom.\n\nThen everything ended.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "There was a small group of us, huddled in the back. We had long ago stopped carrying why we were being sentenced to death. They seemed to be processing us in batches. The men who rebelled against former Chancellor Armenta were being cleared out before us. \n\nWe had been watching in dismay as the deaths were carried out. Each one giving us new ideas, or at the least, methods to avoid. There was only so many they could process at a time and someone had pointed out that certain ones seemed more magically draining on the system.\n\nIt seemed to be proven true as they looked particularly wiped after that death. It was still mid morning, and I turned and looked at the rest of the women I was with, nodded once, took a deep breath, and then volunteered to go first. Some of those women seemed nice, none seemed to be deserving of death by any of my measures, so I decided to buy them time, if I could.\n\nIt sounds noble, but I don't have a great life. I approached the stand, and looked up at the new high Chancellor. All the judges and executioners wore odd robes and masks. There was no continuity in style. The man I was looking at was wearing robes of red and white and an elaborate dragon mask.\n\n\"I choose the following death,\" I said smiling, \"I will die giving birth to your twin heirs. Who will be so distraught at their mother's death that they'll avenge me and destroy you.\"\n\nA quiet hush went, and then a soft pop. The magic began moving through my body. I felt the most intense cramping, a shudder and stifled moan passed through the chancellor's body. After a brief moment, I began to expand rapidly. The pain, discomfort and nausea overwhelmed me. It was a horrible way to die, but I felt vindicated when the birth of the first child was announced, a girl...the second is coming.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2021-06-24T10:00:08 | 2021-06-24T07:19:48 | 1,590 | 236 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"John Smithson,\" said the executioner, calling out the name of the identity that I had been using when I committed my crimes. \"How would you like to die?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't,\" I reply immediately, trying to buy myself another few moments to think.\n\n\"That is not an acceptable answer,\" says the executioner. \"If you do not provide a preferred means of death within the next two minutes, then you shall be beheaded.\"\n\n\"Right. Right. Um...... I would like to die.....\" *How can I make a logical paradox out of this? What are my options?* \".....ummm.....\"\n\n\"One minute remaining.\"\n\n*At my own hand? No, they have mind-control systems, they can do that easily. Ah, wait, I have it!*\n\n\"...of my own volition.\"\n\nThe executioner sighs. \"Not *again*,\" he murmurs. \"I swear, there's one every decade... alright, someone go and fetch my Wand of *Crucio*, please? Let's see how long we need to torture *this* one before he asks for death...\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"HOW DO YOU WISH TO DIE?\"\n\nI had originally been banking on using old age as a loophole, but watching that other guy wither into an old man has proven it to be very much not viable. So here I am, I need an escape plan. Scratch that, it's impossible, what I need is a loophole.\n\n\"HOW DO YOU WISH TO DIE?\"\n\nI could try using paradoxes? No, that wouldn't work. Act of God? Well, Gods. One of them anyway.\n\n\"YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO GIVE YOUR ANSWER\"\n\nDamn. I guess if I am to die, I'll try to take them all with me.\n\n\"20\"\n\nWhat could take them out? Magic wouldn't have any effect, they're all the most skilled mages in existence.\n\n\"15\"\n\nOoo... that's an idea... existence.\n\n\"10\"\n\n\"Save your countdown, I know how I'd like to die.\"\n\n\"HOW DO YOU WISH TO DIE?\"\n\n\"I wish to die by being swallowed up by the expansion and death of the Sun itself.\"\n\nIf I am to die, they're ALL coming with me.",
"role": "assistant"
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2021-06-24T10:00:08 | 2021-06-24T07:46:07 | 1,590 | 68 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"John Smithson,\" said the executioner, calling out the name of the identity that I had been using when I committed my crimes. \"How would you like to die?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't,\" I reply immediately, trying to buy myself another few moments to think.\n\n\"That is not an acceptable answer,\" says the executioner. \"If you do not provide a preferred means of death within the next two minutes, then you shall be beheaded.\"\n\n\"Right. Right. Um...... I would like to die.....\" *How can I make a logical paradox out of this? What are my options?* \".....ummm.....\"\n\n\"One minute remaining.\"\n\n*At my own hand? No, they have mind-control systems, they can do that easily. Ah, wait, I have it!*\n\n\"...of my own volition.\"\n\nThe executioner sighs. \"Not *again*,\" he murmurs. \"I swear, there's one every decade... alright, someone go and fetch my Wand of *Crucio*, please? Let's see how long we need to torture *this* one before he asks for death...\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "“How would you like to die?”\n\nWhat kind of question is that? I wouldn’t like to die at all! But still I must give an answer. \n\nI am sentenced for crimes against magic. I tried to poison the Well of Magic. But truly magic is the root of all evil and corruption. It is just a way to cheat the laws of nature. \n\nPeople without magic are barely 2nd class citizens. It has to stop. I have one last chance. \n\n“By permanently and irrevocably destroying all magic.”\n\nEither it works and my life goal is fulfilled or they refuse to kill me. \n\n“Oh thank goodness!”\n\nNot the answer I expected. \n\n“We are finally free! The curse of magic is broken!” Exclaimed the head mage. \n\n“Told you it would work,” said his vizier. \n\n“You were right. Looks like if we pushed them far enough one of the stupid humans would find the loophole to end magic.”\n\nThe whole council faced me and bowed deeply. \n\n“Thank you for fulfilling the prophecy and freeing us all!”\n\nAnd then there was a blinding flash and I was over.",
"role": "assistant"
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2021-06-24T09:55:49 | 2021-06-24T08:08:07 | 803 | 22 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I always thought I would die from being stabbed in the back by a dirty, dull knife. Some sort of poetic justice, if you will, at least regarding the stabbing. My knives were always sharp.\n\nWhen they brought me to court, they told me that it was magic--out of the realms of a simpleton rogue like me. They waved a wand at me and told me that I couldn't lie, even if I wanted to. So when they asked why I did what I did, the answer was simple and truthful:\n\n\"Because it paid well.\"\n\nThough a little half-hearted, it was with no less candour. Gold was necessary for survival, but it's a little strange how the most important thing in my life wasn't necessary. In demand, but not needed.\n\nI was sentenced to death. I had no letters to send, no people to speak to. That suited me just fine. This was already more dignity than I was used to.\n\nI thought the end of all that would be a noose. A vial of poison. The swing of an axe.\n\n\"Sybil Harper,\" the burly man in a black hood pointed to the woman in front of me, who stepped forward with impunity. \"How would you like to die?\"\n\n\"Of old age,\" she said.\n\nThe executioner brought out a wand, comically undersized in his large, meaty hands. But he was learned, magic-touched--and with an incantation and a bright streak of purple, I saw the half-elf's hair go from black to grey to white, her ears drooping, her height diminishing, and her confident poise hunchbacking.\n\nWith that, old Sybil Harper hobbled one, two steps, before collapsing onto the floor. When they turned her around, there was a toothless smile on her face.\n\n\"Ged Ruell,\" the headsman said now, and I gulped, my mind turned around in an instant. \"How would you like to die?\"\n\n\"Doing what I love,\" I said.\n\nThe wand came out, once more, and this time, a fiery red beam unleashed itself upon me. I struggled with its power, forcing my eyes entirely close, but eventually, calm washed upon me like familiar ocean waves lapping at my feet.\n\nI opened my eyes, vision lit again, slightly obscured at the sides with black, and with the sight of my dead body on the floor. It was dragged away swiftly, without honour or respect.\n\nI could not hear my own thoughts. Now, it felt like I was drowning, my thoughts swirling into a perpetual maelstrom, unable to keep my head above water, oppresive dark cloud and shrieking thunder blackening every sense.\n\n\"Elliot Cobbett,\" the words came out, not entirely of my own volition. I watched my hands point to another man in the line. \"How would you like to die?\"\n\n\"Quickly,\" he replied.\n\nThe hand dropped once more. Instead of a thin wand, the hand encircled a familiar, leather-wrapped handle. And in a stormburst, the clouds cleared, and one thought rang true.\n\n\"With pleasure,\" I said.\n\n---\n\nr/dexdrafts",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "You breathe. Slowly, softly, barely there. It's going to be your turn soon. Soon. Just one more in front of you.\n\n\"Garelea Ordenssen,\" the voice of the Judge calls, echoing through the cavernous waiting room full of intricately carved stone walls. The man in front of you takes a deep breath, displaying confidence. \n\nWith a gait that can only be described as *smug*, Ordenssen struts into the courtroom through the small, open archway. \"You stand accused, Garelea Ordenssen...\" You breathe, tuning out the rest of the Judge's slow diction and syrupy voice.\n\n\"Guilty,\" a cacophonous sounding of voices calls. It's so loud, even out here, that it startles you out of your thoughts of nothingness, of anxiety pooling in your gut. \n\n\"Determine your method of execution,\" the Judge tells him.\n\nThe man smirks, you can see that much. \"Old age,\" he drawls. As soon as he gets the words out, *it* happens. *It* being the instantaneous change – his skin wrinkles, becoming visible more worn; his back, once tall and sturdy, slopes into a hunch; teeth fall out of his mouth like a waterfall until there is nothing but blood and gums dripping onto the floor.\n\nAnd then he dies.\n\nThere is no fanfare, no discerning moment. He just...falls over. People dressed in dark purples and blues come to collect the body. You don't know where they are going to put it.\n\n\"Harley Matisnal,\" the Judge calls. Oh. Well. *There goes that plan*, you think, just a tad bit hysterically. \n\nWho are you kidding? Very hysterically.\n\nOn shaking legs, you step into the courtroom. It is large. Not just in square footage, no. It goes up *very* far, so far you can't even see the ceiling. The walls are stone, but they glitter like gold; they even have its coloring.\n\nThere are several arches built into the wall, each colored like gems – maybe they *are* gems, but you're only really going off of color, here. Each archway holds spectators, but you're not sure whether they want to see people die or if they decide if you're guilty.\n\n\"You stand accused, Harley Matisnal, of the crimes of Larginnally and Evading the Law. Your trial was several months ago. We have just now received you. Of both, you have been determined to be–\"\n\n\"Guilty,\" the voices ring. It is loud, especially now that you're standing *in* the room instead of outside of it. Your head is spinning so much that you can't tell left from right, down from up, whose mouths are closed and whose are open. Who said that? Was it the people? The Judge? You can't tell.\n\n\"Determine your method of execution,\" the Judge tells you.\n\nYou flounder for a moment. Fuck. *Fuck!* What are you supposed to say to this? Nothing?\n\n...Fuck it, you're gonna go with nothing. See what they say to that! Can't kill you if you don't say they can, right?\n\n\"Nothing,\" you say.\n\nAnd then you are.\n\nLike you never even existed in the first place.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2021-06-24T07:50:17 | 2021-06-24T06:11:19 | 457 | 23 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Unjustly\" I said, as loudly and clearly as I could.\n\nThe presiding justice was an elderly man - probably in his late 80s, maybe even older. He blinked at me with steel grey eyes that despite his advanced age were as sharp and penetrating as any I had encountered. \n\n\"Unjustly.\" he replied, curtly. \"Yes. You heard me correctly... Your honour\" I hurriedly added. I didn't need a contempt of court charge dropped on me. It was bad enough being sentenced to death after all.\n\nThe rest of the panel started muttering between themselves. It was a good sign that they didn't appear to have an immediate answer to this reply.\n\nThe presiding justice put down his gavel and stared at me pointedly. \"You are aware, are you not, that you pleaded guilty to all counts before this court?\" I tried my hardest to show no emotion. \"I am, your honour.\" \"And you are aware also that the penalty for those charges - including the reckless misuse of magic causing the death of a mundane individual - is death?\" keep the face impassive. Remain calm. \"I am, your honour.\"\n\nSome of the other members of the court had started producing law books and were engaged in pointing out various paragraphs to one another. \n\n\"It does not seem to me\" The Justice continued \"That 'unjustly' constitutes a _method_ of execution, so much as a moral standpoint, and is thus somewhat outside the terms of procedure for this sentencing.\"\n\nThe muttering to his left was increasing in intensity. \n\n\"Your honour, may I please reference the case of Barris Infernis VII vs The Court - 1682...\"\nOne of the justices started jabbing a bony finger at the book in front of him and waving it under the faceless, hooded figure to his right. Clearly he had the case law right there. \n\n\"Your point?\"\n\n\"My point, your honour, is that he requested to die 'with honour' and the court accepted that request. His life energy was transferred into healing the wounds of his surviving victims by the court by way of penance for crimes committed.\"\n\nThe book had now been passed along to the presiding justice and he paused to read the relevant passage.\n\nI thought this was probably the best chance I had to make my case so I spoke up \n\n\"If I may continue your honor?\" he didn't look pleased, but waved a hand at me in a way that suggested that I should carry on.\n\n\"If I am to die unjustly, then this court has sentenced me incorrectly. I would be due a retrial under the terms described in the revised judicial procedures act of 1939 section four paragraph twelve.\" Now he really did look cross.\n\n\"I think we all understand exactly what it is that you're trying to get across. However I would point out that you pleaded Guilty On All Counts. You have not been tried. You have been convicted entirely by your own admission, and this is merely a sentencing hearing. I would further mention that this court is entirely used to people attempting to use procedural trickery to escape their sentence and that it has, to this date, a precisely zero percent success rate over the eleven hundred year history of this fine institution.\"\n\nHe snapped the book in front of him closed with obvious annoyance. \n\n\"The defendant will return to his seat!\" he barked to the room at large. A susurration spread throughout the gallery. I was \"The defendant\" all of a sudden. Anyone who stood at this podium for sentencing was referred to correctly as \"The Condemned.\" and this court was nothing if not famously thorough in it's application procedure.\n\nMore notes were being passed back and forth between the other members of the panel, and yet more books were being hurriedly brought forth by the attending clerks. This was going as well as I could have possibly hoped for. After what seemed like an eternity The bailiff called for attention.\n\n\"ALL RISE!\"\n\nThe entire panel got to their feet, along with everyone else in the - now extremely tense - chamber. Surprizingly it wasn't the presiding justice, but one of the panel of five that spoke. The voice from the apparently empty hood was dry and dusty, and somehow as if from very far away. It seemed likely that the apparently empty robe was infact just that, and this esteemed member of the court had been called from The Other Side to form part of today's panel of justice.\n\n_\"Thisss court is now in recessssss. The defendant will be returned to hissss ssssssell. Prosssedingsssss will resssssume tomorrow at firsssssst light.\"_ \n\nI did everything I could to avoid punching the air in delight. Remain calm. Have to remain calm. I'd bought myself the required time, now all I could do was wait for the others to play their parts.",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "Okay. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I know what I'm doing, I tell myself as I await my turn on the docket.\n\nThe man in front of me is pulled from his place in live and led roughly up the small staircase to the platform in front of the judge. \"In accordance with statute 128.45 of the criminal code, as required, I must ask you: How would you like to die?\" she recites calmy, looking at some papers in front of her. \"If you are uncertain as to your preferred method of death, you may have up to one minute, that is 60 standard seconds, for deliberation. You have been advised of this right.\"\n\n\"Old age,\" drawls the man, smugly. I snap to attention, extremely curious as to how this turns out. This request has been my plan all along. \n\n\"So be it.\"\n\nThe man gasps and writhes, grey hair sprouting out of his head. His demise is comically grotesque, and within a minute he is nothing more than a withered corpse, still and silent.\n\nI'm not gonna be okay. \n\nI start to panic but my panicking is cut short by the guard grabbing my arm and pushing me up the short staircase to the platform, which has now been cleared of its grisly contents.\n\nIt's my turn. \"In accordance with statute 128.45 of the criminal code, as required, I must ask you: How would you like to die?\" I stare dumbly. She doesn't seem to notice. \"If you are uncertain as to your preferred method of death, you may have up to one minute, that is 60 standard seconds, for deliberation. You have been advised of this right.\"\n\nNeed more time. Need more time. If I don't choose something, I know that something will be chosen for me, something quick but decisive. \n\nTime is behaving strangely in my hazy state of desperation. Has it been a minute? Or ten seconds? I street to hyperventilate and I know in that moment that I will be unable to choose something. \n\n\"Your sixty seconds has passed,\" the judge tells me somewhat sympathetically. \"As such, your method of death will be--\"\n\n\"Excuse me!\" huffs a voice from behind me. \"Excuse me, Your Honor--\"\n\n\"You are not excused,\" the judge says coldly. \"Do not interrupt the proceedings or you will be removed from the premises.\"\n\nA man appears below me, at ground level. He is dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase and far more papers than he should be. He is sweating and disheveled, as though he's run a great deal today. He waves some of the papers and looks chagrined. \"A thousand apologies, truly, Your Honor. Mendicus Hobarton, attorney at law. Apologies for the interruption, but--\" he shuffles through his papers, dropping several, then pulls out one in particular \"--I have a writ ordering the immediate cessation of these executions.\"\n\n\"Approach.\" The judge puts on a pair of glasses and snatches up the proffered document. She scrutinizes it for a minute, her face screwed up in concentration and annoyance. I hardly dare breathe. Is this really happening? \n\nThe judge raises an eyebrow and looks back at Mendicus Hobarton, attorney at law. \"This writ argues that the language of the execution order is unconstitutional?\" she asks, incredulous. \n\n\"Yes your honor, it is. I represent the MCLU, who contends that asking a condemned prisoner how they would like to die is unconstitutional, on the grounds that no prisoner would LIKE to die.\" Mendicus is gathering steam now, standing straighter and becoming more animated. \"Furthermore, choosing a method of execution for a prisoner who has not stated how he or she would like to die negates the purpose of asking and therefore negates the validity of the proceeding.\"\n\nThe judge grumbles. \"Well I don't know about all that,\" she says, \"but it's signed by the Second Circuit Court of Magical Proceedings and Governance. It's the Magical Civil Liberties Union's problem now.\" She turns to me. \"Stay of execution granted. Remove the prisoner.\"\n\nI start to cry as I'm led from the platform. What just happened?! I'm never this lucky! \n\n\"I'm never this lucky,\" I babble at Mendicus as I'm led away.\n\nHe puts out an hand and stops me, briefly. \"Luck had nothing to do with it,\" he says. \"Talk to your mother. She'll explain.\" \n\nBefore I can ask anything more I'm jerked forward again, through the doors and back into the holding cell. My mind reels. I haven't spoken to my mother in years, ever since... But it seems she's helped me cheat death. Maybe I owe her a call. And she owes me an explanation.\n\nEdit for grammar.",
"role": "assistant"
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2021-06-24T10:08:14 | 2021-06-24T08:08:07 | 255 | 22 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I take a step forward. The line to the High Magister grows shorter by the moment as the people befor me are tried and executed on the spot befor the Grand Court of Wizards.\nThe reading of crimes is honestly the longest part, the crimes are listed for each of us and given a unanimous guilty verdict on the spot.\n\nCant say I blame then really, the coup didnt go quite as planned.\n\nI'd love to say I was the mastermind behind everything but truth be told I'm little more then another cog in machine of revolution, one that broke quite handily when our silver tongued leader mysteriously vanished.\nWe just wanted non-magic folk to be taken more seriously, to be treated like actual citizens.\n\nI take another step forward. I shake my head of the thoughts, pointless to think about it with more impending matters. Third in line now. I watch Andrew take centre floor. He used to be a cook befor getting caught up in this mess, cant say we spoke much but still a shame just the same.\n\nThe High Magister repeats the same phrase that everyone befor him heard last. \"Choose your method of execution\". There is a moments pause befor the old cook smugly replies \"Old age\". Cheeky sod read the same story I did.\n\nWith a wave of his hands the Wizard casts a spell and to my horror I see Andrew rapidly ageing till he is little more then a dead emaciated old man. \"Bugger, there goes that idea\" I mutter to myself.\n\n\"Next\" The high Magister proclaims, waving his hand dismissively as a pile of dust blows away that used to be Andrew. I didnt know the woman in front of me but she looked like she had been through the ringer.\nI take the time to think, my brain working as hard as it can to think of something, anything at all.\n\n\"Choose your method of execution\" I snap from my thoughts and look up to see what she picks, maybe it will help. \"Without regrets\" she replies, little vague and not really a method but hey the Court seems to accept it. There is a quick flash of light, I turn away instinctively and blink away the sunspots left behind.\n\nWhen I look back she is just stood there, not moving an inch. \"Next.\" But... she is still alive? I walk to the centre and my crimes are listed off, I dont pay attention, I know what I did. I get a good look at her and wish I hadn't, her eyes, her face, her expression. They lobotomised her. The body might be there but there is nothing left inside.\n\nI clench my fists tight, I'm angry but not at my situation. I'm angry that they seem to revel in punishing people who they think are trying to be clever.\n\n\"Choose your method of execution\"\n\nWell that was fast. I relax, no point in fighting it after all. I look up to The High Magister and smile, my body trembling but my mind set. I know how to beat this.\nI open my mouth and give the one response I can think of that will work.\n\n\"Instant\"\n\nA small wave of the hand. I dont even get to hear the \"Next\"",
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"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
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"content": "You breathe. Slowly, softly, barely there. It's going to be your turn soon. Soon. Just one more in front of you.\n\n\"Garelea Ordenssen,\" the voice of the Judge calls, echoing through the cavernous waiting room full of intricately carved stone walls. The man in front of you takes a deep breath, displaying confidence. \n\nWith a gait that can only be described as *smug*, Ordenssen struts into the courtroom through the small, open archway. \"You stand accused, Garelea Ordenssen...\" You breathe, tuning out the rest of the Judge's slow diction and syrupy voice.\n\n\"Guilty,\" a cacophonous sounding of voices calls. It's so loud, even out here, that it startles you out of your thoughts of nothingness, of anxiety pooling in your gut. \n\n\"Determine your method of execution,\" the Judge tells him.\n\nThe man smirks, you can see that much. \"Old age,\" he drawls. As soon as he gets the words out, *it* happens. *It* being the instantaneous change – his skin wrinkles, becoming visible more worn; his back, once tall and sturdy, slopes into a hunch; teeth fall out of his mouth like a waterfall until there is nothing but blood and gums dripping onto the floor.\n\nAnd then he dies.\n\nThere is no fanfare, no discerning moment. He just...falls over. People dressed in dark purples and blues come to collect the body. You don't know where they are going to put it.\n\n\"Harley Matisnal,\" the Judge calls. Oh. Well. *There goes that plan*, you think, just a tad bit hysterically. \n\nWho are you kidding? Very hysterically.\n\nOn shaking legs, you step into the courtroom. It is large. Not just in square footage, no. It goes up *very* far, so far you can't even see the ceiling. The walls are stone, but they glitter like gold; they even have its coloring.\n\nThere are several arches built into the wall, each colored like gems – maybe they *are* gems, but you're only really going off of color, here. Each archway holds spectators, but you're not sure whether they want to see people die or if they decide if you're guilty.\n\n\"You stand accused, Harley Matisnal, of the crimes of Larginnally and Evading the Law. Your trial was several months ago. We have just now received you. Of both, you have been determined to be–\"\n\n\"Guilty,\" the voices ring. It is loud, especially now that you're standing *in* the room instead of outside of it. Your head is spinning so much that you can't tell left from right, down from up, whose mouths are closed and whose are open. Who said that? Was it the people? The Judge? You can't tell.\n\n\"Determine your method of execution,\" the Judge tells you.\n\nYou flounder for a moment. Fuck. *Fuck!* What are you supposed to say to this? Nothing?\n\n...Fuck it, you're gonna go with nothing. See what they say to that! Can't kill you if you don't say they can, right?\n\n\"Nothing,\" you say.\n\nAnd then you are.\n\nLike you never even existed in the first place.",
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2021-06-24T07:17:41 | 2021-06-24T05:58:59 | 181 | 45 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "The person before me took my idea. She had no idea that dying of old age meant they would accelerate time for her. Now that I saw that, I can't make the same mistake. There has to be a way out of here, a loophole.\n\nYou'll find one like you always do, I kept thinking that to myself. I wasn't a stranger to this business, but usually I wasn't involved with magic. The payment was good but too risky. \n\n\"Marcus Spades, how would you like to die?\" The hooded man said. He held a weapon that changed into many weapons. The hood had golden details, his body was hidden by shadows. If anything he was good at this. I could feel the chills creeping up my body.\n\n\"I need a second.\" \n\n\"You have one minute.\" His weapon changes to a whip. I'm not sure how but I feel he enjoyed those who took their time and never decided.\n\nTime! That's it, their laws are bound by time and space here. If I can get them to try to execute me in some other place far from this world maybe I have a chance. I start laughing, I might have finally lost it. \"I wish to die in a time space rift between worlds.\"\n\nThe executioners weapon changes into a cellphone. \"I need help. Yes, it's another crazy guy. Yeah, he wants the slowest most painful death in existence. Thanks, I'll wait for you to start the ritual.\"\n\nI fall into my knees. That gamble sounds like the worst one I've taken. Although that one that included stealing from the governments and 'donating' it was close second, by the time they figured out I cheated on that table it was too late.\n\nFour hooded men or women appear. They point wands to the floor under me. A circle of light engulfs me. One moment I see them, the other I see everything and nothing at the same time. \n\nI look around and I see more figures. More mes. The one closest to me waves, the but the others scream in agony and pain. \n\n\"Why are they screaming?\"\n\n\"We are trapped between time and space. We have access to all information at the same time and our brains can't handle it.\"\n\nThis wasn't what I thought would happen. My pupils have widened. I have to escape. I can't let this happen to me! \"How can we escape?\"\n\n\"You would have to touch an opening. But they are always just barely far away to not be reached.\"\n\nMy fingers reached out but never quite made it to any of the images passing by. My body is sweating but it's not. I can't feel the droplets on my skin. Nor the tears from my eyes. \n\nIn the distance growls and screeches of despair. How many of me are here? When will this all end? I look towards the other side and a new me comes in. Repeating the scene that just happen over and over and over again.",
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"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I get to choose how I die? I thought to myself. Well that's easy enough, I'll just wish to die of old age on a bountiful island with my 18 smoking hot wives. What a blessing! If I knew about this I'd have turned myself in years ago!\nA guard comes to my cell and unlocks my cell door.\n\n\"Your time of reckoning has come Alvin, I hope you used your time wisely\" said the guard. \n\n\"At this point I think I have it all set\" I retorted. \n\n\"As a final word of advice, wishes rarely go as planned\" the guard added. He then gestured to me to follow him. His words weighed on my mind a bit and I started doubting myself a little so I asked, \"what did the last guy end up wishing for anyway?\"\n\n\"He wished to die of old age\" stated the guard.\n\n\"How'd that do for him?\" I asked.\n\n\"He should still be in the judgment hall when you get there, you can see fit yourself\"\n\nWe finally arrive at the judgment hall. It was a large room with flat concrete walls all around. At about 10 feet of the ground the walls became glass and I could notice faint shadows scurrying back and forth. I move my gaze back to my immediate surrounding and I take a quick look around to see where the previous prisoner was, yet the whole room was empty save for a pile of dust on the ground. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the standard issue prisoner garments were barely visibly beneath the dust. The dots started connecting and I realized that my original wish would end in a similar fashion.\nSuddenly, light emerged from behind the glass projecting the shadow of two figures onto the concrete walls.\n\nA slightly snarky voice proclaims, \"Well Mr. Alvin, have you decided how you would like to die today?\"\n\nI can feel beads of sweat roll down my forehead as I start racking my brain for some sort of request that could at least give my death meaning..... MEANING!\nTHATS IT!\n\n\"Um......\", I started, \"are you familiar with a guy named Jesus?\"\n\n\"Don't you dare\", the Snarky voice declared. \n\n\"I'd like to die as a great prophet that became a Martyr for his people.\"\n\nThe lights shut off and a flurry of shadows start racing through the glass and some barely audible banner ensures. I pressed my ear against the concrete hoping the vibrations could somehow clue me in on how the conversation went. \n\n\" He chose religion...... Of course he freaking chose religion..... \"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" \n\n\"What we've always done. Coordinators P through X, I want you writing the holy scripture. You have 30 days to get it done. Don't even think about sleeping until you finish. Coordinators A through G, you guys are with me. We need to brainstorm different miracles that this Alvin dude will need to preform. H through O, you guys need to decide how he will teach martyrdom status. Coordinators Y and Z, brief Mr. Alvin on the standard religion scenario procedures. Ugh, I better be getting paid overtime for this...... \"",
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2021-06-24T06:47:00 | 2021-06-24T05:58:59 | 172 | 45 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
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"content": "“HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIE?”\n\nLiam considered. More carefully than he ever had in his life, which is probably why he was standing where he was at the moment, waiting for execution. The withered husk that preceded him was dragged off into a narrow steel corridor. The one he would himself be dragged off to in just a few moments.\n\n*The best death would be…the best death…something was there*. A hint, a way, a hope. A tiny thought wriggled on the long end of a line cast back in memory. Days of boredom, doodling tiny pictures of stick figures fighting magnificent, heroic, insignificant battles while the teachers droned on. Days where the only thing that could capture his attention was the gnarled and bent history teacher. *What was his name?*\n\nMr. Philips, yes that was it. He was a storyteller more than a teacher, and history came alive in that classroom. Mr Philips would leave his seat and perch upon his solid oak desk and weave tales that captivated and delighted. Tales of heroes and glory and sacrifice. And Mr Philips favorite story (and Liam’s as well) had been...\n\nAnd suddenly Liam smiled, for the first time in months. The executioner raised a quizzical eyebrow and slowly stroked the ridiculous beard that insecure wizards favored. He opened his mouth to ask the question once more, but before he could start Liam suddenly spoke.\n\n“And how can man die better, than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his Gods?” Liam smiled ferociously, baring his teeth in a rictus warrior's grin. The executioner studied him for a second, and returned the smile along with a nod, and a simple wave of his pale black wand. \n\nThe world faded to white, then black. And then red.\n\n——————————\n\n“What a mess” said Jurl as he carefully picked his way over the pile of bodies. He hated cleanup duty. At least 80 or 90 of the apparitions were strewn in a rough semi-circle at the far side of a narrow bridge. And on the bridge itself lay a single, real body. Jurl counted at least a dozen serious wounds on the body. The sword lay shattered at his side, chipped and marred, and bloodied. The shield was almost unrecognizable, and the sigil on the front impossible to make out from the battering it had taken. On the far side of the bridge stood a temple, dazzling marble white, untouched. Smoke from a burning sacrifice of calf drifted lazily in the afternoon air, and Jurl could hear voices inside, chanting a name in perpetual gratitude for their survival: “LIAM, LIAM, LIAM!”.\n\nJurl pursed his lips, and set to work, dispersing the generic slaughtered enemies one by one back into the aether they had sprung from. Heroic last stands were always the hardest to clean up.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I get to choose how I die? I thought to myself. Well that's easy enough, I'll just wish to die of old age on a bountiful island with my 18 smoking hot wives. What a blessing! If I knew about this I'd have turned myself in years ago!\nA guard comes to my cell and unlocks my cell door.\n\n\"Your time of reckoning has come Alvin, I hope you used your time wisely\" said the guard. \n\n\"At this point I think I have it all set\" I retorted. \n\n\"As a final word of advice, wishes rarely go as planned\" the guard added. He then gestured to me to follow him. His words weighed on my mind a bit and I started doubting myself a little so I asked, \"what did the last guy end up wishing for anyway?\"\n\n\"He wished to die of old age\" stated the guard.\n\n\"How'd that do for him?\" I asked.\n\n\"He should still be in the judgment hall when you get there, you can see fit yourself\"\n\nWe finally arrive at the judgment hall. It was a large room with flat concrete walls all around. At about 10 feet of the ground the walls became glass and I could notice faint shadows scurrying back and forth. I move my gaze back to my immediate surrounding and I take a quick look around to see where the previous prisoner was, yet the whole room was empty save for a pile of dust on the ground. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the standard issue prisoner garments were barely visibly beneath the dust. The dots started connecting and I realized that my original wish would end in a similar fashion.\nSuddenly, light emerged from behind the glass projecting the shadow of two figures onto the concrete walls.\n\nA slightly snarky voice proclaims, \"Well Mr. Alvin, have you decided how you would like to die today?\"\n\nI can feel beads of sweat roll down my forehead as I start racking my brain for some sort of request that could at least give my death meaning..... MEANING!\nTHATS IT!\n\n\"Um......\", I started, \"are you familiar with a guy named Jesus?\"\n\n\"Don't you dare\", the Snarky voice declared. \n\n\"I'd like to die as a great prophet that became a Martyr for his people.\"\n\nThe lights shut off and a flurry of shadows start racing through the glass and some barely audible banner ensures. I pressed my ear against the concrete hoping the vibrations could somehow clue me in on how the conversation went. \n\n\" He chose religion...... Of course he freaking chose religion..... \"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" \n\n\"What we've always done. Coordinators P through X, I want you writing the holy scripture. You have 30 days to get it done. Don't even think about sleeping until you finish. Coordinators A through G, you guys are with me. We need to brainstorm different miracles that this Alvin dude will need to preform. H through O, you guys need to decide how he will teach martyrdom status. Coordinators Y and Z, brief Mr. Alvin on the standard religion scenario procedures. Ugh, I better be getting paid overtime for this...... \"",
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2021-06-24T10:15:26 | 2021-06-24T05:58:59 | 120 | 45 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "\"Will Alice Smith please come to the stand?\" I glanced up as the girl in front of me in line stepped forward. She was chained up six ways to Sunday. It was obvious why. A massacre like the one she single-handedly caused would definitely get you locked down tight. \"On the charge of 37 counts of murder in the first degree, the court has found you guilty. Please, share with us any final words and choose how you'd like to die-\"\n\nI stood silently staring at the ground as Alice giggled. \"My last words? Simple. Screw you! I choose old age!\" She laughed, but it wasn't a normal laugh. It was the type of laugh you only hear from someone that had long tipped over the edge of true insanity. The judge kept his composure yet again as he raised his gavel. He brought the gavel down with a bone-chilling crack. The woman paled as her cockiness quickly replaced itself with true fear. \"Wait! No!\" She fell to the ground as her hair turned a morbid grey, her skin wrinkling as the color faded from her eyes. \"This isn't-\" she paused for a moment, coughing violently as her lungs threatened to give out. \"-what I had in mind.\" She fell completely to the floor, turning to dust, only leaving a pile of clothes where a person once stood.\n\nI felt my stomach churn. I quickly realized old age was off the table. \"Lucas Hollins. Please step forward.\" I stepped silently forward. \"It says here you were caught committing adultery with his majesty's bride-to-be and shortly thereafter, you attempted to murder his majesty. Therefore, on the charge of adultery and attempted murder, the court found you guilty. Please, share with us any final words you have and tell how you wish to be executed.\"\n\nI looked up at the judge, pure hate in my eyes. \"I say this whole system is bullshit. Rigged against anyone his majesty deems unworthy, but I don't just mean the judicial system. Our entire society is rigged based on favoritism. I say to hell with it. This wouldn't have happened in the first place if that stuck-up brat of a king hadn't ordered that my love marry him simply for her beauty. I hate him and I hate anyone who admires him. So you know what? I choose to die the only way I know you can't kill me.\"\n\nThe judge simply scoffed at my response. \"Is that so? What way is that?\"\n\nI simply smiled. \"By the hands of my own child.\"\n\nThe judge nodded. \"Very well-\" I watched him raise the gavel before speaking again, stopping him.\n\n\"But you see, your honor. I can't die by the hands of someone who doesn't exist-\"\n\n(I may have gotten a bit lost in the details so it's probably longer than it should be, but yeah. I don't really like the end, but I couldn't think of anything else)",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I get to choose how I die? I thought to myself. Well that's easy enough, I'll just wish to die of old age on a bountiful island with my 18 smoking hot wives. What a blessing! If I knew about this I'd have turned myself in years ago!\nA guard comes to my cell and unlocks my cell door.\n\n\"Your time of reckoning has come Alvin, I hope you used your time wisely\" said the guard. \n\n\"At this point I think I have it all set\" I retorted. \n\n\"As a final word of advice, wishes rarely go as planned\" the guard added. He then gestured to me to follow him. His words weighed on my mind a bit and I started doubting myself a little so I asked, \"what did the last guy end up wishing for anyway?\"\n\n\"He wished to die of old age\" stated the guard.\n\n\"How'd that do for him?\" I asked.\n\n\"He should still be in the judgment hall when you get there, you can see fit yourself\"\n\nWe finally arrive at the judgment hall. It was a large room with flat concrete walls all around. At about 10 feet of the ground the walls became glass and I could notice faint shadows scurrying back and forth. I move my gaze back to my immediate surrounding and I take a quick look around to see where the previous prisoner was, yet the whole room was empty save for a pile of dust on the ground. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the standard issue prisoner garments were barely visibly beneath the dust. The dots started connecting and I realized that my original wish would end in a similar fashion.\nSuddenly, light emerged from behind the glass projecting the shadow of two figures onto the concrete walls.\n\nA slightly snarky voice proclaims, \"Well Mr. Alvin, have you decided how you would like to die today?\"\n\nI can feel beads of sweat roll down my forehead as I start racking my brain for some sort of request that could at least give my death meaning..... MEANING!\nTHATS IT!\n\n\"Um......\", I started, \"are you familiar with a guy named Jesus?\"\n\n\"Don't you dare\", the Snarky voice declared. \n\n\"I'd like to die as a great prophet that became a Martyr for his people.\"\n\nThe lights shut off and a flurry of shadows start racing through the glass and some barely audible banner ensures. I pressed my ear against the concrete hoping the vibrations could somehow clue me in on how the conversation went. \n\n\" He chose religion...... Of course he freaking chose religion..... \"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" \n\n\"What we've always done. Coordinators P through X, I want you writing the holy scripture. You have 30 days to get it done. Don't even think about sleeping until you finish. Coordinators A through G, you guys are with me. We need to brainstorm different miracles that this Alvin dude will need to preform. H through O, you guys need to decide how he will teach martyrdom status. Coordinators Y and Z, brief Mr. Alvin on the standard religion scenario procedures. Ugh, I better be getting paid overtime for this...... \"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-06-24T10:15:26 | 2021-06-24T09:19:00 | 120 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Will Alice Smith please come to the stand?\" I glanced up as the girl in front of me in line stepped forward. She was chained up six ways to Sunday. It was obvious why. A massacre like the one she single-handedly caused would definitely get you locked down tight. \"On the charge of 37 counts of murder in the first degree, the court has found you guilty. Please, share with us any final words and choose how you'd like to die-\"\n\nI stood silently staring at the ground as Alice giggled. \"My last words? Simple. Screw you! I choose old age!\" She laughed, but it wasn't a normal laugh. It was the type of laugh you only hear from someone that had long tipped over the edge of true insanity. The judge kept his composure yet again as he raised his gavel. He brought the gavel down with a bone-chilling crack. The woman paled as her cockiness quickly replaced itself with true fear. \"Wait! No!\" She fell to the ground as her hair turned a morbid grey, her skin wrinkling as the color faded from her eyes. \"This isn't-\" she paused for a moment, coughing violently as her lungs threatened to give out. \"-what I had in mind.\" She fell completely to the floor, turning to dust, only leaving a pile of clothes where a person once stood.\n\nI felt my stomach churn. I quickly realized old age was off the table. \"Lucas Hollins. Please step forward.\" I stepped silently forward. \"It says here you were caught committing adultery with his majesty's bride-to-be and shortly thereafter, you attempted to murder his majesty. Therefore, on the charge of adultery and attempted murder, the court found you guilty. Please, share with us any final words you have and tell how you wish to be executed.\"\n\nI looked up at the judge, pure hate in my eyes. \"I say this whole system is bullshit. Rigged against anyone his majesty deems unworthy, but I don't just mean the judicial system. Our entire society is rigged based on favoritism. I say to hell with it. This wouldn't have happened in the first place if that stuck-up brat of a king hadn't ordered that my love marry him simply for her beauty. I hate him and I hate anyone who admires him. So you know what? I choose to die the only way I know you can't kill me.\"\n\nThe judge simply scoffed at my response. \"Is that so? What way is that?\"\n\nI simply smiled. \"By the hands of my own child.\"\n\nThe judge nodded. \"Very well-\" I watched him raise the gavel before speaking again, stopping him.\n\n\"But you see, your honor. I can't die by the hands of someone who doesn't exist-\"\n\n(I may have gotten a bit lost in the details so it's probably longer than it should be, but yeah. I don't really like the end, but I couldn't think of anything else)",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"I would like to die of old age\"\n\nI froze, as those words resonated in my head, the realization that his nape would be the last I see of him quickly sinked in.\n\n\"*Why...?*\" I murmured. Why would he do that? He's not that gullible as to think the Supreme Court of Wizardry would let him get away with that, he's the mastermind behind it all, for Merlin's beard! He's the one who found out about the breach in the treaty, the muggle camps in Stirling, he convinced us, led us, believed in us... We were so close to rid the world of that noxious titan of a minister, just that one droplet would have been enough...\n\n​\n\n\"Then, without further ado, for crimes against the Ministry, organising an uprising and for the theft of the sacred first titan Olaf's blood, we hereby sentence you to death, by old age, as requested.\" the judge's voice exploded through the hall.\n\nHis hair started losing its distinct red colour, exposing more and more patches of his scalp. Some weird black marks could be seen behind his curls.\n\nI can barely contain my tears, I would've given everything for this man, as I'm sure he would've done for me also. He called me by his name, and yet this pitiful sight of him is all that's left...\n\n​\n\nSome commotion could be heard in the otherwise silent chamber of the jury, as a minute man hurried through the crowd, causing turmoil. His wacky moustache really didn't fit the vexed expression painting his face, neither did his voice tone, as it echoed through the room, trying to sound solemn.\n\n\"Know that we will find Olaf's blood! Your existence will be notorious through the whole continent as nothing more than pointless, so wipe that smirk off your face!\"\n\n\"*He's... smirking?\"* Of course he'd be smirking... even facing death under the spiteful noses of these disdainful aristocrats his spirit wouldn't break. I look back at him, as I struggle to accept my own fate myself, and right there, right in front of me is the answer. Tattooed on the back of his head is an encrypted message, calibrated exactly to work on my lenses!\n\nI'm once more shook, as his body begins falling apart, I can't stop my tears, nor my gratitude, he really did give me everything in the end. The dust settles, and I make up my mind, looking up.\n\n\"The choice is yours.\" finally the judge's sight lands upon me, scrutinizing me, digging deep into my soul. I concede him little time however, as my leader's last words paint a clear picture in my mind, I spout my answer loud and clear.\n\n\"I wish to stab myself with the dagger resting on my desk at home!\"\n\n​\n\n\"So be it.\"\n\n​\n\n*A droplet of Olaf's blood is enough to rid a titan of their life, and grant a human a second one. He was half human.*",
"role": "assistant"
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2021-06-24T10:52:50 | 2021-06-24T06:11:19 | 44 | 23 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Alel bit his lip as the prisoner crumpled to dust, blowing away from a wind within an airtight room. Well, that was out the window. The judge simply stared with a bored look in his eye, confirming the kill before charting it down and looking to some other infinite list.\n\n“Charles Alel, take to the stand.” \n\nAlel grimaced as he stepped forward. Really? Couldn’t even use his preferred nickname? No matter. His mind was racing with things he could say to keep from dying, though it came up blank as the judge read through his charges. All too soon, Alel heard the judge draw to a close, not even registering when asked how he wanted to die. He needed time, though it wasn’t something he had. Maybe if he could just... get a few more minutes, he could -\n\n“Charles. Choose, or be disintegrated quickly and painfully within the minute.” A magic hourglass flipped, the sand draining ten times faster than it should have.\n\nSuddenly, Alel had a spark of an idea - though, whether or not the magic of the courthouse would even be able to carry through such a thing, he did not know. Alel’s heart beat harder and faster as the last grains of sand hit the bottom of the hourglass.\n\n“I wish to die in every way.” The words flew from his mouth, unable to think of anything else in the moment. The judge had preemptively raised his gavel, though hesitated with Alel’s words. He didn’t look bored or unpleased, but surprised. Curious, even. It *was* a fitting punishment, an undying death set to repeat over and over, and who knows if the courthouse could even do it. An infinite death. \n\nThe judge merely locked eyes with Alel, raising his gavel higher before striking downwards. Alel could feel his heart beating quickly as silence filled the chamber. He could feel the eyes of other prisoners as well as the judge on him. His heart was still beating, though rapid from the adrenaline.\n\nA few seconds passed, as Alel began to calm... only to grip his chest in agony, pain wracking his entire body. His heart began to beat faster, and harder, as though it were about to burst within his chest - and then nothing. His consciousness didn’t ebb or fade, it simply ended.\n\nThen it began. Alel rose with a gasp, sucking the air into his aching chest. He gripped his chest and looked towards the judge’s chair - empty. How long had it been, he wondered? Alel began to stand, only to hear a sharp *snap*. He crumpled to the floor with a pained yelp, feeling more bones breaking upon making contact. He looked to his hands, now greying and withering. Old age. His eyes went blurry, and he could feel his body give way to the air in the room.\n\nAwake once more. Dead once more. Awaken, suffer, die. That was the punishment he had chosen. Aneurysm, seizure, cancer, diarrhea, suicide - he kept going through the motions. And though he didn’t know how much time passed in between each revival, the judges seat remained empty, as did the prisoner chamber. It took all of Alel’s willpower just to keep conscious, to stay sane enough to move with what precious seconds he had. \n\nThe courthouse was carrying out his wish, killing him in every conceivable way. However, it didn’t restrict his movement. With each revival, he inched closer and closer to escape, to victory - or at least, a semblance of it. Eventually, he reached the door of the prisoners chamber once more, reaching towards the door with a flayed hand. He heard a crack, one that wasn’t from his bones. It was the wood beneath his feet. Alel looked downwards, seeing rotted wood beneath his feet just before it gave way to his emaciated body.\n\nAlel fell, helpless. As he fell, he closed his eyes. The wood was rotten, old. Left without care long enough to give way to skin and bones. He had died several times, physically - but he said *every* way. By falling, by suffocation, by cave in, by worms and dirt and seeds spreading through the Earth and into his bones, all things that wouldn’t be possible in the moment he made the wish.\n\nThis was his fate. An infinite one, instead of an eternity of peaceful non-existence. What a fool he was. Alel closed his eyes, only to open them for a time, before closing them again. Perhaps, in time, the magic of the courthouse would break. But before that, this was his undying destiny.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "Okay. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I know what I'm doing, I tell myself as I await my turn on the docket.\n\nThe man in front of me is pulled from his place in live and led roughly up the small staircase to the platform in front of the judge. \"In accordance with statute 128.45 of the criminal code, as required, I must ask you: How would you like to die?\" she recites calmy, looking at some papers in front of her. \"If you are uncertain as to your preferred method of death, you may have up to one minute, that is 60 standard seconds, for deliberation. You have been advised of this right.\"\n\n\"Old age,\" drawls the man, smugly. I snap to attention, extremely curious as to how this turns out. This request has been my plan all along. \n\n\"So be it.\"\n\nThe man gasps and writhes, grey hair sprouting out of his head. His demise is comically grotesque, and within a minute he is nothing more than a withered corpse, still and silent.\n\nI'm not gonna be okay. \n\nI start to panic but my panicking is cut short by the guard grabbing my arm and pushing me up the short staircase to the platform, which has now been cleared of its grisly contents.\n\nIt's my turn. \"In accordance with statute 128.45 of the criminal code, as required, I must ask you: How would you like to die?\" I stare dumbly. She doesn't seem to notice. \"If you are uncertain as to your preferred method of death, you may have up to one minute, that is 60 standard seconds, for deliberation. You have been advised of this right.\"\n\nNeed more time. Need more time. If I don't choose something, I know that something will be chosen for me, something quick but decisive. \n\nTime is behaving strangely in my hazy state of desperation. Has it been a minute? Or ten seconds? I street to hyperventilate and I know in that moment that I will be unable to choose something. \n\n\"Your sixty seconds has passed,\" the judge tells me somewhat sympathetically. \"As such, your method of death will be--\"\n\n\"Excuse me!\" huffs a voice from behind me. \"Excuse me, Your Honor--\"\n\n\"You are not excused,\" the judge says coldly. \"Do not interrupt the proceedings or you will be removed from the premises.\"\n\nA man appears below me, at ground level. He is dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase and far more papers than he should be. He is sweating and disheveled, as though he's run a great deal today. He waves some of the papers and looks chagrined. \"A thousand apologies, truly, Your Honor. Mendicus Hobarton, attorney at law. Apologies for the interruption, but--\" he shuffles through his papers, dropping several, then pulls out one in particular \"--I have a writ ordering the immediate cessation of these executions.\"\n\n\"Approach.\" The judge puts on a pair of glasses and snatches up the proffered document. She scrutinizes it for a minute, her face screwed up in concentration and annoyance. I hardly dare breathe. Is this really happening? \n\nThe judge raises an eyebrow and looks back at Mendicus Hobarton, attorney at law. \"This writ argues that the language of the execution order is unconstitutional?\" she asks, incredulous. \n\n\"Yes your honor, it is. I represent the MCLU, who contends that asking a condemned prisoner how they would like to die is unconstitutional, on the grounds that no prisoner would LIKE to die.\" Mendicus is gathering steam now, standing straighter and becoming more animated. \"Furthermore, choosing a method of execution for a prisoner who has not stated how he or she would like to die negates the purpose of asking and therefore negates the validity of the proceeding.\"\n\nThe judge grumbles. \"Well I don't know about all that,\" she says, \"but it's signed by the Second Circuit Court of Magical Proceedings and Governance. It's the Magical Civil Liberties Union's problem now.\" She turns to me. \"Stay of execution granted. Remove the prisoner.\"\n\nI start to cry as I'm led from the platform. What just happened?! I'm never this lucky! \n\n\"I'm never this lucky,\" I babble at Mendicus as I'm led away.\n\nHe puts out an hand and stops me, briefly. \"Luck had nothing to do with it,\" he says. \"Talk to your mother. She'll explain.\" \n\nBefore I can ask anything more I'm jerked forward again, through the doors and back into the holding cell. My mind reels. I haven't spoken to my mother in years, ever since... But it seems she's helped me cheat death. Maybe I owe her a call. And she owes me an explanation.\n\nEdit for grammar.",
"role": "assistant"
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2021-06-24T11:15:28 | 2021-06-24T04:31:51 | 28 | 17 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"Death by Hubris!\" I proclaim with a self satisfied smile.\n\n\"Hubris,\" the officiant responds, dryly. \"That is your choice?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" I say, grinning at the old fool's expression. \"Like in the tales. A hero is given a challenge, some trial to overcome. It's of course, not inherently impossible, but the hero fails and dies due to some human flaw, or other.\" I look about the room. Surely, the others in attendance must see my genius. Instead, I am greeted by the bored faces of a dozen odd functionaries, clearly unaware that they were witnessing the historic defeat of their ancient court. \n\n\"Very well,\" the leader of the group intoned, lifting his staff, and striking the marble floor. \"Death by Hubris.\"\n\n\"You idiots!\" I exclaim as the ruling is finalized. \"Can't you see what you've done? You've made me immortal!\" I start laughing, exalting in the ease with which I'd defeated the law. \"You cannot kill me!\" I continue, as they needed to understand my accomplishment. \"I am keenly aware of my abilities, and unfailingly cautious. Even for this decision, I pondered for _years_ as you struggled to catch me! There is no challenge you can set me to where _I_ will be my downfall! I-\"\n\nI cut off, collapsing to the floor. Apparently, it had been hubris to believe I could survive this trial.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I'm waiting to die, everyone here is. I have seen a lot of people trying to fool the court, the last one requesting to die of old age, but all of them fail. At this point everyone has lost their hopes, there is no way of avoiding dead.\n\nIt's my turn and I go in front of that horrible people, happy witnesses of the magical demise that awaits me. A voice, one that seems to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, ask me how this magic room shall kill me. The voice says that the room will do exactly what I tell it with the only condition of choosing some way to die.\n\nThere is a countdown of one and a half minutes and I just don't know what to do, it seems to be impossible to avoid it. Well, I think, if I must die, I want to see them suffering.\n\n\"I request to die slowly while they die from what they would choose in my situation.\"\n\nThose faces, full of horror while the voice ask them and the doors are shut is the only thing I needed to rest in peace. They try to avoid it, but it's inevitable. I died fast, they all tried to continue living and failed, but at least I could see part of those \"high people\" that made this happen diying. It's not the best, but it's the best anecdote I have from when I lived. Now, I only must see the concequences of my actions as part of the room punishment, but I'll watch and enjoy every second of it.",
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2021-06-24T11:15:28 | 2021-06-24T08:24:48 | 28 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "\"Death by Hubris!\" I proclaim with a self satisfied smile.\n\n\"Hubris,\" the officiant responds, dryly. \"That is your choice?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" I say, grinning at the old fool's expression. \"Like in the tales. A hero is given a challenge, some trial to overcome. It's of course, not inherently impossible, but the hero fails and dies due to some human flaw, or other.\" I look about the room. Surely, the others in attendance must see my genius. Instead, I am greeted by the bored faces of a dozen odd functionaries, clearly unaware that they were witnessing the historic defeat of their ancient court. \n\n\"Very well,\" the leader of the group intoned, lifting his staff, and striking the marble floor. \"Death by Hubris.\"\n\n\"You idiots!\" I exclaim as the ruling is finalized. \"Can't you see what you've done? You've made me immortal!\" I start laughing, exalting in the ease with which I'd defeated the law. \"You cannot kill me!\" I continue, as they needed to understand my accomplishment. \"I am keenly aware of my abilities, and unfailingly cautious. Even for this decision, I pondered for _years_ as you struggled to catch me! There is no challenge you can set me to where _I_ will be my downfall! I-\"\n\nI cut off, collapsing to the floor. Apparently, it had been hubris to believe I could survive this trial.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "The Gods damned Tribunal! If there was anyone to blame for the state of this sorry world it would be the Tribunal. Sitting up on high, casting judgement on their inferiors. Everyone knows they're the real power behind the crown. Can't have a revolution when the Tribunal can kill you for your crimes instantly.\n\nPeople called us stupid for trying to assassinate the king. Too much security that night and we just barged in the front doors. Hardly took any effort or the king's guards to take us down. All we had were daggers, they couldn't have even scratched the king's armor. Idiots they called us for even trying to fight against our betters. Everyone reading our manifesto as a joke....but maybe we got through to some people.\n\nSitting here, waiting to get called up in front of the Tribunal for punishment. Some have tried to plead their case. Some have tried to outwit the bastards and live forever. Poor sod before me wished to die of old age, and got turned to dust faster than it took him to say the words. \n\nHOW DO YOU WISH TO DIE? the Tribunal asks me.\n\nI grin and think of everything they've taken from me; my father, my wife, half my damn family accused of crimes against the crown most of them never committed. But I know what revolution sounds like. I may not see it, but I'm giving my people hope.\n\n\"Drowned in the Tribunal's fresh spilled blood.\" I say as I close my eyes and hear the first downpour.",
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2022-12-09T06:27:20 | 2021-07-13T08:56:56 | 1,513 | 295 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The emperor laughed and boasted to the human leader. \"That was a fun war! Let me know when your soldiers come back alive.\" \"...Are you saying your people do not die? Forever?\" \"Wait, what?\"",
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"content": "# Foreword to the Poet's War, by John Burnett\r\n\nThe Terani send their poets to war. I know because I’ve fought them, and because I’ve read the collections of the men I thought I'd killed.\n\n\r \nWhen I was young, a boy of eighteen, I went to the trenches of Tau Ceti. I brought along a million of my best friends, and shoulder to shoulder, vibro-bayonet to vibro-bayonet, we learned something of what it meant to be alive, and much of what it meant to die.\r \nAnd all the while we heard the Terani singing on the other side of no mans land, their trenches guarded by the glittering domes of force fields, their foxholes burrowed with their bare hands, their claws extending six inches or more from the fingers with the flick of a wrist. When they fought they wore plasteel armor and carried laser rifles and the bravest of them went into battle armed like the days of old. Old to them, not to us, their swords still glittered with the power of kinetic accelerators, and their spears were more like guided missiles. \r \n\nIn the early days we did not know that they did not die. Who could have conceived of that then, when the human race was still in its infancy. They did not die, and we could scarcely manage to live, and though each toiled the same the risks were far different. \r \nThat lost us the war, but it won us the peace. \n\n\r \nYou see, the Terani Imperium is not an imperium in the way of man. It is, perhaps, closest to the late 20th and early 21st century American cultural hegemony with all the serial filed off and the budget divorced from the defense department. \n\n\r \nBecause, of course, the Terani send their poets to war. \n\n\r \nIn the Terani Imperium all things revolve around the Culture. They are an empire of mind, not empire of steel, and the nature of their army reflects that. It is not an arm of defense or offense or anything else so banal, it is their Cultural Outreach Department, Training Division 001, the motto of which is loosely translated as “A Poem is Pain Portrayed.” \n\n\r \nAnd in my years at war they portrayed far more than their share. \n\n\r \nFor two years the Terani Imperium rained hell down onto our trenches. We had no force fields and they their bombs. They showed us orbital lasers for the first time, whispered the first, rippling stanzas of a planet cracker into our ears. On Christmas Day, 2441 they us made a gift of plague, scented the aerosol like frankincense.\n\n\r \nIn the decade that followed they shared with us the long forgotten terrestrial concept of hard treaties with foreign powers, and when I found the wreckage of my Tau Ceti home I packed it into a shoe box and shipped it back to Earth alongside the ashes a half million good men and another million or so civvies.\n\n\r \nAnd then towards the end of that decade, all us eighteen year olds grew up, and the Terani learned something of the difference between our two races. \n\n\r \nThey send their poets to war to make them better. We send our boys to war, and the war makes them poets.\n\n\r \nThis collection is a measure of that. I wrote some of these in the trenches, more of them hospitals, more of them awake in bed as the nightmares shook themselves loose, Wilfrid Owen open at my bedside. \n\n\r \nThey sent us bombs and lasers and plague. We sent them back Sassoon and Owen and Hemmingway. And, as the critics see fit to list me among them, Burnett. I find myself disagreeing with that sentiment, but as my publisher says, we’re on track to sell a billion copies in the Imperium and that counts for something. \n\n\r \nI’m not treading any territory that’s new to us humans. The Terani might have never seen anything like Owen or myself. It would be constitutionally impossible for them to ever do so, for one cannot expose the great lie of *Dulce et Decorum Est* without the floundering man, and that dear readers is their weakness. \n\n\r \nRemember that when you read these poems. Imagine the blasted space between two trenches, voices raised in a curlew’s chatter above the ozone torn air, and remember it was poets in both trenches, one set real, one set fake even by their own terms, and do not begrudge me a few last parting lines to my youth.\n\n\r \nThe Terani send their poets to war. I know because I’ve fought them, and because I’ve read the collections of men I’d thought I killed.\n\n\r \nAnd I know that the thing that separates us is nothing so simple as technology, who has the better bomb or the bigger gun. \n\n\r \nIt’s poetry. Real words versus fake, the difference between Horace’s Ode and Owen’s poem. \r \nAnd excuse me one last time, for a passing gloat. \n\n\r \nA billion sales in the Imperium, and in the past year not a single one of the poets I’d thought I killed have sold more than a dozen copies. “A Poem is Pain Portrayed,” says their Cultural Department. \n\n\r \nWell dear readers, let us see how that is done. \n\n\\-----------\n\nIf you enjoyed that I've got tons more over at r/TurningtoWords. Come check it out, I'd love to have you!",
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"content": "[WP] The emperor laughed and boasted to the human leader. \"That was a fun war! Let me know when your soldiers come back alive.\" \"...Are you saying your people do not die? Forever?\" \"Wait, what?\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Standing on the podium, Susan made a speech.\n\nThey fought for many things, but most of all to protect their loved ones.\n\nA message came through on the radio. from the emperor.\n\n\"Susan, you can end this. Just walk away and leave it all behind.\"\n\nPsychological warfare, typical.\n\nAnd to war they went, a battle to end all battles, a vision of hell and brimstone to make death a mercy.\n\nThe fields were washed in crimson, but it was nothing compared to the stench. A stench that meant obliteration, the end of life, a decay so strong no fly dared to feast on the remnants of what had once been an army.\n\nThe message came on the radio where a dead operator sat. A dilapidated bunker would serve as conference room to sign peace and, hopefully, end this tragedy for good.\n\nThere, Susan would force the emperor into a truce after the massacre that bled both sides dry. She still heard the howitzers tearing the sky apart with fire, saw the trenches running red with the blood of the young and innocent sent to die in a pointless war.\n\nThis war wasn't pointless, at least Susan hoped so. The emperor had started the hostilities, and she was the last line of defense to organize the defenses and prevail. Why her? Why not somebody else? There were hundreds better suited than poor Susan to wage war, yet they all listened to what she said.\n\nShe went to the bunker on foot, every motorized vehicle had been destroyed. Every men and women had been killed too, she was walking alone in the fog, stepping over the corpses of the dead. A man lay in a ditch, he had taken his life with a pistol before the conflict washed over the land. A woman had died in his arms, tears frozen onto her face. Cowards and traitors hung from trees, under which a lone child had frozen to death. With each step she took, another vision of despair and decay overwhelmed her.\n\nBut the conflict was over. There was nothing left to kill.\n\nThe emperor smiled, laughed and shook her hand, telling Susan she was getting good at this and that he couldn't wait for the next round.\n\nWhat round? Susan had never done this before.\n\n\"Susan,\" said the emperor, \"are we really going to have this conversation again?\"\n\n\"Soldiers don't rise from death.\"\n\n\"Of course they do, my soldiers do, yours... we all do here.\"\n\n\"Enough with the games, you monster, you've done enough damage.\"\n\nThe emperor looked sad. He didn't even look like an emperor, just a normal middle-aged man in an old suit.\n\n\"Susan. You don't have to fight this war. You can leave any time you want, you know you can.\"\n\n\"This war is over. And I had to protect my loved ones.\"\n\n\"Do you remember what your loved ones look like?\"\n\nSusan's memory was blank. As hard as she tried, she did not remember what lovers, brothers and sisters felt like. She could not even picture her face.\n\n\"Susan, please. All you have to do is walk away. Just once, and it will be over. You can leave this nightmare, please, do it.\"\n\n\"Lies!\"\n\nSusan ran back, back to camp, back to her own, away from the emperor's ploy. She stumbled upon the cadaver of the man that had shot himself and fell face-to-face with the woman. The sad woman. The grief-stricken woman. And Susan's face wasn't blank anymore.\n\nShe was Susan.\n\nAnd Susan remembered her husband. She remembered the man she loved, the man that had been so terrified by the oncoming war and found a way out before it came. She remembered the grief and the accusations she flung at herself in the mirror while the blood of the man laying outside was still warm. Had she been a better wife, she could have given him the courage to lower his hand and rise his head. Had she been a better human, she would have found a way to protect him. But she failed, and her love was dead.\n\nWhat to do without her love?\n\nIn tears, she went outside and wrapped herself in her dead husband's arms.\n\nAnd Susan died from a broken heart, thinking about all the things she could have done better.\n\nAs a soldier, she could have saved him from the enemies. As an officer, she could have done more. As a commander, she could have fought off the oncoming army.\n\nShe could have, she should have. She'd give anything for another shot, another chance. To be strong and good and courageous, to succeed where she failed.\n\nShe can, she should.\n\nSusan was walking back to camp, the destroyed vehicles reshaped themselves into functional machines, the dead poked into their holes to take out bullets and stand back up.\n\nMen and women gathered, weapons were distributed, courage was nurtured in numbers.\n\nStanding at the podium, Susan made a speech.\n\nThey fought for many things, but most of all to protect their loved ones.\n\nA message came through on the radio, from the emperor.\n\n\"Susan, you can end this, just walk away and leave it all behind.\"\n\nPsychological warfare, typical.\n\nAnd to war they went, a battle to end all battles, a vision of hell and brimstone to make death a mercy.\n\nThe fields were washed in crimson, but it was nothing compared to the stench. A stench that meant obliteration, the end of life, a decay so strong no fly dared to feast on the remnants of what had once been an army.\n\nThe message came through the radio where a dead operator sat. A dilapidated bunker would serve as conference room to sign peace, and, hopefully, end this tragedy for good.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-07-20T07:26:02 | 2021-07-20T06:30:25 | 601 | 246 | [
{
"content": "[WP]You hunt time travellers. You know them in and out. Yet all your attempts have led to utter failure. That same year, Stephen Hawking tells you about his plan to throw a party for time travellers. It's bizarre but you can't help watching from a distance. That's when you spot someone approaching",
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"content": "Chet looked at his watch. It wouldn't be long now. When he had heard of this party, he knew this was his one big chance. Twice the man in red had escaped from his clutches. No more. \n\nHe moved further back into the shadows as he saw a figure approaching.\n\nHe wore a mask so it was hard to see his face. But his flowing red robe was unmistakable. It looked like he carried a river of blood on his back. The blood of his mother. Chet forced himself to stay back. He had to wait for the opportune moment. Chet put his own mask on. He wasn't Chet anymore. \n\nThe man in red entered Hawking's mansion, and The Hunter followed.\n\nThe Hunter followed discreetly. He had gotten really good at this sort of thing in the past year. He seemed to have gained a variety of skills almost overnight. The Hunter saw the man in red look at a device in his hand. He looked around and continued on.\n\nThe party had been a bust. No one had showed up. The hunter had seen Hawking sit and wait in a room for a couple of hours before he had dejectedly left the room.\n\nBut The Hunter was more patient. He had been tracking the man in red for an year and had almost given up. Then he had got this lifeline. One slim chance. So he had chosen a vantage point and waited. And his patience had been rewarded.\n\nThe man in red looked at the door Hawking had locked a few hours ago. He expertly picked the lock and was inside in moments. While the party invitation was public knowledge, less well known was the promise that Hawking had made that everyone's identity would be kept a secret. There would be no cameras, no guards. The man in red still did a quick, but expert, sweep of the place. Hawking had spoken the truth.\n\nIt was at this moment that The Hunter rushed into the room. He caught the man in red by surprise and knocked him off his feet, the metallic device in his hand skittering across the polished floors.\n\nThe Hunter quickly closed and locked the doors. Then he turned around and pointed his gun at his prey.\n\n\"I finally got you.\"\n\nThe man in red was still on the ground, holding his head as if in enormous pain. \"I... I...\"\n\nHe reached out to The Hunter who kicked his hand away and went for the device. It was like a futuristic cell phone. He pressed the button at the bottom and the screen lit up.\n\nThe words Fingerprint Accepted showed up on the screen as Chet almost dropped it in surprise.\n\nHe hadn't realized it in his adrenaline but his head was pounding.\n\nA wave of fog wafted over to his brain as his memories grew hazy.\n\nHe fell to the ground, as he saw his past, his present and his future flash simultaneously in front of his eyes.\n\nChet saw his recruitment as a spy. He saw his code name, The Hunter. He saw the countless missions he performed successfully for his country. He saw his greed take him over. He saw himself be arrested and charged with treason of the highest degree. He saw himself get the option to spend the rest of his life in jail or go in the past and kill himself. He saw himself take the 2nd option. He saw himself try to kill his own past self. He saw his own mother save his life at the cost of her own. He saw the grief drive his own self mad. He saw himself become so angry that his future self spent the next year tracking himself, but slowly growing weaker and insane the closer he got to his past self as the timeline hardened. He saw the memories, the skill sets merging. He saw his future self track his past self to the Hawking party. He saw...\n\nThe next day Hawking entered the room to find two people in the room, dead with no apparent injuries. The doctor he brought in couldn't find anything physically wrong with either of them.\n\nSuffice to say, Hawking never held another time travel party again.",
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{
"content": "[WP]You hunt time travellers. You know them in and out. Yet all your attempts have led to utter failure. That same year, Stephen Hawking tells you about his plan to throw a party for time travellers. It's bizarre but you can't help watching from a distance. That's when you spot someone approaching",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I’m fashionably late to the party — there are already twenty or so time travellers sitting at tables. Some are dressed in fashions of this century, some of last, and a few of centuries yet to come. Balloons rock on invisible currents, champagne bottles pop, laughter rings like off-key church bells.\n\nI never liked laughter much.\n\nNo one pays attention to me. Just another traveller amongst their ranks; just another guy who found an invite and thought he’d break every universal law by turning up here.\n\nArrogant bastards, the lot of them.\n\nThey don’t know they’re swimming in shark infested waters. That I sniffed their blood from centuries away, followed their trail. That I’m starving for them.\n\nAll my life I’ve been hunting these people. Time travellers. Yet up to now, I’ve not been so successful. Only ever killed one.\n\nBut now they’ve all come here, walked straight into a net. Almost too good to believe.\n\nMy hand reaches for my gun. Rests there a moment as I see a young boy smiling beside a young couple. As I try to remind myself that I’m doing the right thing.\n\n*The right thing? This? Slaughtering innocents? You’re the one who needs to be hunted.*\n\nExcept, time travellers must be eradicated, I tell myself. They are a threat to existence itself. So what choice do I have?\n\n*What ‘threat’ is that exactly?*\n\nI slap my head. “Shut up!”\n\n*You don’t even remember, do you?*\n\n”Time travellers must die,” I yell. “That much I remember.” The crowd quietens, as if everyone has shared the same silent breath.\n\nTheir last breath.\n\nI paint the walls a bright red. Their screams sound like their laughter — identical to it in my head. And I do hate laughter.\n\nSoon, there is only blissful silence.\n\n*Well? Are you pleased with yourself?*\n\nSomething twitches beneath a body. It’s the little boy. He crawls out, shivering, wailing, staring at me.\n\n”I’m sorry,” I say. ”But what choice did I have? Time travellers have to die.”\n\nHe’s only ten or eleven.\n\nDid he come with them? Is he really a time traveller? Do I have to eradicate him, too?\n\n*Check his wrist, for God’s sake! Does he even have a bracelet?*\n\nHe doesn’t. Thank Christ. He’s not one of—\n\n*Do any of them have a bracelet?*\n\nHot bile roils in my gut as I look from body to body, searching for the tell-tale bracelet time traveller’s like me have to wear.\n\nNone of them have one.\n\nI drop my gun, fall to my knees, and am violently sick.\n\nThe boy’s still crying by the time my stomach’s empty.\n\n”Hey,” I say, wiping my mouth. “Who… Who were they? Were they time travellers?”\n\nThe boy waddles to me. “We were playing dress up for the party,” he says through tears.\n\n*Do you remember yet?* says the voice in my head.\n\nRemember what?\n\n*Come on, think! It’s not something you can hide forever, no matter how well you try to block it out.*\n\nThe boy must have picked up the gun. He’s standing in front of me, weapon raised to me\n\n“Oh shit,” I say, as I stare at his face. As it all tumbles back into place. All the memories pooling together.\n\n’You did this,” he says.\n\n”Wait, I—“\n\n”Time travellers must die!”\n\nI’m not even sure which one of us said it.\n\nThe gun blasts. My stomach loses a fist-sized hole.\n\nI collapse. Can’t see. But I can feel his little hand unclipping the device from my limp wrist.\n\n*Don’t,* I try to say. Try to beg. *Don’t. This is how it all begins. Change it — or it’ll never end.*\n\nBut nothing comes out except for the hot gurgle of blood.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2021-07-21T14:41:03 | 2021-07-21T12:24:13 | 25 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Ten Thousand years is a long time to hold a grudge. When you were imprisoned, you believed you had plenty of time to build your hatred and a plan for revenge. But after a few hundred years, hate gives way to boredom and loneliness. Now, finally you break free to a world you don't recognize.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "**Part 1: Imprisonment**\r \n\r \nVish sat cross-legged, contemplating his fate and the events that had led to it, within an endless white void.\r \n\r \nThere was no escape - he knew that much. He could wander the void in any direction for years and never encounter a single wall or barricade. \r \n\r \nNothing but endless nothingness.\r \n\r \nThe perfect prison for an immortal. A prison he had once helped design.\r \n\r \nMonths had passed since his initial imprisonment, he couldn't be sure how many. In the first few days, he had felt only rage. Pure, undistilled and maddening anger - fury directed at *her*. The one he thought he could trust beyond all others. The one who had betrayed him.\r \n\r \nThe void had been different then. Instead of vast endless nothingness, he had instead found himself on a small rocky outcrop amid a sea of lava. Pillars of flame erupted from the molten depths forming fiery tornadoes that circled him ceaselessly. The heat and fury of the flames acting as a perfect complement to his burning anger.\r \n\r \nBut flames that burn furiously die quickly. Within days Vish felt his anger settle into a smouldering hatred as he began to plan his vengeance. Again the prison had warped around him, this time becoming an impossibly huge spider's web. The twisting, intersecting fibres reflecting the myriad schemes Vish had begun to plot.\r \n\r \nThat was the beauty of the Conceptual Prison. A prison of the mind trapping the consciousnesses of an immortal and severing its connection to the physical world.\r \n\r \nPhysical walls were useless against an immortal who had reached the Fourth Awakening. At that stage, an Immortal could manipulate the physical world around them through the force of their will alone. What walls could hold a man who could turn stone to liquid with a mere thought? In fact, many of the First Order of Immortals had thought imprisonment of an immortal to be impossible until Vish had shown them his plans.\r \n\r \nHe had been young then, barely a century, naive in thinking he could prove himself worthy to sit among the council with his youth. He should have known they would resent him and his abilities. He should not have given them the tools they needed to confine him.\r \n\r \nVish did not let go of the feeling of hatred or his anger at being imprisoned - but eventually managed to accept it. He internalised it, making it the fuel that motivated him not to give up, to find a way our and to seek his vengeance. It was at that point the prison had shifted to its current state - a sea of endless emptiness.\r \n\r \nHe had designed this prison - he sure as hell would find a way to break out. After all, he had all the time he needed.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Ten Thousand years is a long time to hold a grudge. When you were imprisoned, you believed you had plenty of time to build your hatred and a plan for revenge. But after a few hundred years, hate gives way to boredom and loneliness. Now, finally you break free to a world you don't recognize.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I am unsure of the thing I expected to find. When I was released from my tomb, the place that had been, quite literally, a living hell, I experienced a sensation that I had never felt before. It was a sense of relieve, yet extreme existential dread. The feeling of entering a world so different, yet so familiar, it scared me.\n\nAnd as much as I tried to remember the face of the man I had hated for so long, I could not get myself to even remember the colour of his eyes, or the colour of his skin. It had all blurred together long ago. I had vowed to take revenge, yet I never quite understood what I was trying to avenge. All those lost years? The life I left behind? If anything, I should have been grateful to have missed mass extinction, and the apocalypse. And my life? Well, it was already a big pile of rubble. I doubt that atomic hellfire would have changed anything. \n\nWhat am I doing? Making amends to myself for the work of the devil? What am I thinking. All that hatred, the suffering, and the torment that clouded my mind for so long, it has finally started to fade. And now I am greeted with the darkness of a dead world. Perhaps I should focus on my own, instead of the things I lost to my own doing, so long ago. I refused to see the signs, and I ignored the red flags whenever they popped up. If anything, the situation, being frozen for ages in that bunker, was my fault. I had so many chances to stop it, and steer clear, but I did not. Instead, I sought my own demise. Perhaps that is what drives me now. That same lust for my own death.\n\nAnd as I stare over the broken landscape that was once my home, I cannot help but wonder, what really caused this? Was it all the petty squables? Or did climate change finally catch up to us? Perhaps it was one man's doing. Or maybe nobody really was responsible. Maybe fate found us from amoung the stars. There was only one way to find out.\n\nAs I carried the backpack of supplies that I had found in that ruin of a facility, I made one last effort to straighten my already shredded jacket. No use. I do not know what I expected. I took a deep breath, nearly choking on a flake of ash that had drifted into my nostrils. And as the sunlight started to show far away, from another horizon in a different era, I found myself by the sunrise of a new life. Perhaps I did not realise it then. But this was the second chance that I had been waiting for. And I would make friends that some would consider to be... Unexpected. Then again, success is not always a given, and I needed all the help I could get. I am happy that, at the time, I was slightly tired. Because if I had been a little bit more careful, I would have noticed the ship then. And if I had, perhaps I had never met my saviour.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2022-01-28T09:20:21 | 2022-01-28T07:10:17 | 425 | 89 | [
{
"content": "[WP] \"I have met a woman with more riches than kings. She dresses like a peasant but listens to great composers with a 'Spotify' anywhere and puts on private theater plays on her home every night, 'Netflix,' she calls it. I've seen her pantry full of spices and her wardrobe filled with purple.\"",
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"content": "I arrived in the future not with a bang but with a sigh. The way stone scarcely warm in my trembling hands. Men and women walk in their undergarments in this strange place, and in the distance I see gleaming towers carved from iron and glass.\n\nAnd in this mad world, they take me to be a mad man. And I suppose I must be, as they are to me. I can scarcely comprehend the things that I see. Even the things I know are alien to me. I am given their clothes, died in rich purple. I examine them closely and can scarcely believe their construction. Hundreds of stitches per inch. This single scrap of cloth would have been fit only for kings in my time, and in theirs, it is fit for a mad man.\n\nThey take me on a carriage wrought from metal which roars and moves on its own. I had thought it a great military weapon before I see hundreds more. With shock and delight I realize that these carriages are *common.* Owned by individuals. Each man must exult in this faraway place, riding like wind on arrow-straight roads. How the haughty nobles might turn, knew they that peasants of this age would spurn their wooden carriages. We dash faster than champion race horses, the trees blurring around us.\n\nThe institution of learning is larger than a castle, a sprawling estate dedicated only to teaching. Tears of joy and shame well up as I consider the single workshop which had brought me such pride. I see teeming masses of children, their hands soft and eyes bright. The woman who I am brought to meet is in charge. But so shocked and adrift am I that it hardly seems unnatural at all.\n\nThey indulge my questions, taking delight in my rapt awe. I wonder at the majesty I will be allowed to see. What shall I learn, what has been discovered! A joy it is to be a mad man in this mad world.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] \"I have met a woman with more riches than kings. She dresses like a peasant but listens to great composers with a 'Spotify' anywhere and puts on private theater plays on her home every night, 'Netflix,' she calls it. I've seen her pantry full of spices and her wardrobe filled with purple.\"",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"I swear to the gods, I saw it on that black window, right there!\" he continued walking towards the black glass window with the metal frame. A single red light was projected into the night. He paused his steps and took a deep breath. \"Now, i tell you, this is not a fanthom of my mind. \n\nHow can anyone imagine the things I saw?\"\n\nThe Priest stood beside him and slowly started mumbling latin words. He too saw the red light come from the bottom of the black window. \"How can this be\", he wondered. In all of his days as a preacher of the word he had never actually seen a wonder. He had done all the usual pilgrimages. Been to the crying Maria, seen the mumified toe of Jesus and even touched a lock of his hair when visiting the Archbishop. But nothing came close to this magical tiny red light piercing through the dark. What would happen if he'd get closer? Was it the work of the Devil or of the Almighty?\n\nHe was already deciding to go back to the convent and pray on it for the night. At least get his evening meal in, people think more clearly with their stomachs filled, you know? But he knew he wouldn't be able to resist coming back to it soon. Better get it over with now!\n\nTogether, they stepped a few steps more into the dark hallway, towards the black shiny window with the red light. \n\nNothing happened. What did they expect? A wonder?\n\nBut then, he saw they weren't alone at all. And the hallway wasn't as dark as it seemed from outside. What was this building, was it even a building? \n\nThe entire floor seemed to be shaking a bit. Ambient lighting came from the walls. \n\nSlowly, the entire place became filled with color eminating from the walls, ceiling and floor.The red light was no more. Instead, a large, tall, splendidly purple female appeared. Was this God? Surely the devil wouldn't wear Purple!",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2022-08-23T12:23:30 | 2022-08-23T12:16:48 | 90 | 43 | [
{
"content": "[WP] An powerful ancient being has been held captive by an interstellar civilisation. After eons of being held captive, it has accidentally freed by humans, who've not been to the \"galactic stage\" for long...",
"role": "user"
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"content": "As the entity threw itself in futility at the barrier, it suddenly passed through it. Its confusion and surprise turned into a deadly glee at the foreign beings that held it captive for countless years.\n\nIt phased through and reached out to the first consciousness it could find, seeking a way to control it.\n\n/ / / / / /\n\nAs the napalm died down, Lt. Sgt. Mari Villeneuve felt a stinging sensation in her wrist as it touched the wall.\n\nShe cried out in brief pain, and to her horror, saw a strange overlay in her sight for a second. As she blinked, it disappeared, and there was a sensation similar to a grass snake wrapping itself around the lower arm.\n\nShe staggered, leading to her subordinate to grab her arm. Something new *hissed* within her, and Mari waved the subordinate away. \"I'm okay, I just....I just...\" Mari trailed off as her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell bonelessly to the floor.\n\n/ / / / / /\n\nMari stood in a ruined temple in a vast seascape. It reminded her of the classic horror novels by an early 20th century author - ones where there was n unknowab-\n\nShe gasped, and turned around. There was a sensation of her conscious mind making the sensation of *wibble*, and then she saw-\n\nSomething that was at once monstrously huge and unknowably small, something with an appearance that bothered sense and didn't. All her mind told her was **GREEN** AND **RUN**.\n\nAnd yet....she stood. And reached out her hand. Then spoke, as she managed to place her hand on this....thing. \"Incredible! Just what *are* you?\"\n\nShe felt a sense of scaliness as her hand traced the illusory flesh, even through her military dress gloves. She felt a tugging then, like a whale pulling on a moose. It drowned her, and then thought at her.\n\n*You....freed.....Me....* Its....whatever it was....felt like the Pyramids of Hypnos !V were speaking.\n\nMari spoke aloud as her false eyes and ears bled. \"I don't even know what you are. We found an ancient temple worshipping an old being named Hulh. We were investigating some similarities to some ancient literatures across the cosmos. If you can see it without harming me, I can share it with-\"\n\nMari sensed her mind being shredded as this thing ruffled through it....and then, she felt herself being put together again, if slightly different to what she was.\n\n*That...is...*beautiful. *All this...time away from...my family...and sentients....carried my legacy.* Mari felt it becoming more accustomed to a sort of speech, and then she felt herself being tugged away.\n\n\"I want to speak more with youuuuuuuu^u^u^u....\"",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] An powerful ancient being has been held captive by an interstellar civilisation. After eons of being held captive, it has accidentally freed by humans, who've not been to the \"galactic stage\" for long...",
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"content": "What was that thing? \n\nHer name, was Nix.\n\nBy many considered a goddess.\n\nBy many others, a monster.\n\n​\n\nTales of her origins were all different among the Universal Worlds, But, the most accepted one, was that she was the youngest of a family of all extremely powerful creatures, possibly existing since the Big Bang.\n\nMore specifically, it was said that She was the daughter of a Galaxy and a Black Hole, Her brother was a Sun, and she...She was the Darkness. The darkness that reigned upon the Galaxy.\n\nWhatever happened to her kind, is still unknown to this day, but, they no longer seem to roam this Universe, or any other.\n\nThe only thing that was known, was that, being a creature able to take uncountable forms to blend in with the species surrounding her, She was dangerous.\n\nStudies performed by the Adonneans, from Planet 87-C-73, show that Nix is actually capable of destroying planets pretty much by just touching them, yet...\n\nShe shows an even more sadistic behaviour, Liking to Blend in inside different planets, Causing chaos inside their societies, destroying them on their own in the process.\n\nWhich is why she had been locked away in the best place all of our council could think of: Sealed off in a makeshift moon of planet 45-D-72. The moon had been covered with many layers of Pirolvine, a metal from that planet, almost impossible to break by internal force, Only external. \n\n\nIt seemed she would be held captive that way, until....\n\nA new species, from Planet 12-M-17, or as they kept calling it, \"Earth\", appeared.\n\nWeird creatures, Often violent and too Selfish.\n\nOf course, when they realized they COULD break Nix's prison, or, as they tought it to be \"The precious metal moon\" to extract all the Pirolvine for themselves, unaware of the being trapped within it, they, being the Vain creatures they were, Thought they HAD to do it.\n\nSo, they sent uncountable people, and different bombs to destroy it, drills even, those normally would have never been nearly strong enough to break the sphere quickly, but...\n\nHumans were greedy, very greedy, Generations and Generations of them kept coming, extracting more and more of that precious metal, for uncountable years.\n\nIt seems that Nix eventually noticed, because, the few Witnesses of the fatidic destruction kept saying she looked like a Human, except for her eyes and hair, which seemed to look like galaxies on their own.\n\nEventually, just like predicted, the Humans found their doom in their greed.\n\nThey freed Nix.\n\nShe destroyed everything standing on her path.\n\ncountless species, planets, and even galaxies destroyed in just a few Eons.\n\nToday, Nix sits on a barren, empty planet.\n\nPatiently awaiting the day the galaxy is full of life again.\n\nJust so that she can continue to play.",
"role": "assistant"
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2022-10-21T18:36:16 | 2022-10-21T17:08:16 | 26 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You were raised by an old soldier. One day other soldiers arrived to take them away. You, not knowing any better stepped out to confront them. Fearfully the soldiers drew their weapons as they screamed at the old soldier. \"You took the monster with you, are you insane?!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"She's not a monster!\" Mother snapped.\n\nThe military captain was quick to reply, \"We really gonna have this back and forth? You know what they can do, the destruction they can wield.\"\n\n\"She isn't some wild animal! She's not about to go on a rampage just because! We have a bond-\"\n\n\"Their power is too dangerous, whether in their own hands OR wielded by a human.\"\n\n\"Wielded? She's not a tool!\"\n\n\"That's exactly what they were in times past to humans. Tools. Weapons. Means of violence. The amount of suffering caused by people who misused them...\"\n\n\"There was such a scant few who used them for evil, compared to how many they benefited, which is more than can be said for the guns you're wielding-\"\n\n\"Guns didn't split the entire continent into fragments! Stand down.\"\n\n_\"No!\"_ I stepped into the conversation.\n\n\"It has telepathy!? Do you understand what kind of risks that would entail?\"\n\n\"You clearly don't! Maybe if knowledge of them wasn't so heavily buried-\"\n\n\"ENOUGH! Apprehend her!\"\n\n_\"You'll have to go through me first.\"_\n\n\"Lucy, wait!\" Mum cried, but I couldn't listen to her request. This wasn't a battle we could run from.\n\nI advanced, and let the shell of energy surrounding my soul ignite.\n\nI could understand why humans would be afraid. They lacked the outer shell to their soul I had, that source of strength empowering and protecting them.\n\nThe soldiers opened fire, and I was peppered with bullets. Most deflected on my skin with minor gouges, overall, the metal projectiles hurt, but had limited effectiveness.\n\n_\"My turn.\"_\n\nHopefully a show of power would scare them off, without having to hurt them. As I understood it, humans were unnervingly easy to kill, and I didn't want to test that.\n\nChanneling my soul-shell's energy into a concentrated orb, I fired the sphere into the ground before them.\n\nDirt flew into the air, and some humans were knocked down, despite having missed them. But they still continued to shoot.\n\nExcept for the captain. He'd stopped, and gained a dangerous glint in his eye. I felt some malicious intent radiating from his soul.\n\nHis eyes turned to Mother.\n\nNo.\n\nI raced forward to stop him, but all it took was a mere twitch to aim at her and shoot.\n\nI saw Mum fall, I saw red blood leaking from her wounds, I felt her aura fade, her soul wink out.\n\nThere was a lull as everyone else stopped attacking as I ran to her.\n\n\"Uh...\" One of the soldiers stammered, \"Quick question cap? What was that supposed to do?\"\n\nThe captain didn't speak, lacking words to justify his decision.\n\n\"I-isn't that only gonna make it a-angry? You saw that blast, and how little our bullets did. It would've killed us if it had been trying... We're basically dead now, aren't we?\"\n\n_\"You aren't,\"_ I said, _\"but you...\"_ I turned by gaze to the captain.\n\nAdvancing, no one opened fire as I approached him.\n\nFace to face, I felt myself hesitate. There's always some moral dilemma about revenge or something like that. I-... I wasn't letting this murderer get away unscathed, but...\n\nSighing, I calmed my aura. I was no longer wielding force stronger than what humans could manage. It felt appropriate.\n\nSpinning, I shoot my fist out and strike him back-handed across the face. Not exactly a severe punishment, until you notice I have large, metal spikes growing out of the back of my hands. There's one on my chest too, but details.\n\nI turn to face away from him. I don't want to see it. Goodness knows he deserved it, but even seeing the blood coating my hand is nauseating. I grit my teeth and start walking away. This, this is getting too much to deal with.\n\nI can sense the aura of living creatures, and feel their emotions in turn. Every person here, the complex emotions, the fear, the (deserved) pain of the captain, who appeared to be not dying, but still crying bloody murder at ear piercing volumes...\n\nThe sound, the smell, the emotions, Mother's body...\n\nI can't.\n\nI need to leave.\n\nThe soldiers don't give pursuit, those not frozen by shock trying to give medical aid to the captain.\n\nOnce I get a little distance from it all, I start running.\n\nAnd crying.\n\nI don't know how long I ran and cried for.\n\nEventually, I grew tired, and found a stream where I washed the blood off my hand.\n\nFrom there, I began heading up the nearby mountain. Mum always said my species frequently dwelled there, to find solitude from the multitude of living creatures and overwhelming emotions. I felt like I really needed that.\n\n---\n\nThe house was explored, despite the captain losing his eye from the strike that thing had dealt.\n\nAlthough nothing of importance was discovered, a certain trooper who'd begun having doubts about what they were doing had his doubts furthered when he found a frames photo of the creature with the recently deceased runaway.\n\nIt looked different, smaller, younger.\n\nIt was tiny, only the size of a toddler, and those metal spikes on its hands were barely rounded nubs here.\n\nThe picture had a faded writing on the back:\n\n_Martha Birch_\n\n_Riolu_",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You were raised by an old soldier. One day other soldiers arrived to take them away. You, not knowing any better stepped out to confront them. Fearfully the soldiers drew their weapons as they screamed at the old soldier. \"You took the monster with you, are you insane?!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Hey dad, what's going on-\" I ask as i open the front door. Outside is my adoptive father, in front of him are soldiers; like he once was. the sight stopped my words in their track.\r \n\r \nThe men look over at me, a sudden wave of fear washed over their faces. \"You kept it!? Are you batshit insane?\" one of them shouted at my dad.\r \n\r \none of them leans over to the center soldier, seemingly the one in charge. \"Boss, what do we do with them?\" he whispers, quiet enough that a normal person wouldn't have heard. Then again, my hearing's always been a bit better than normal people's.\r \n\r \n\"you know what command said if we find it. It and its collaborators have to be purged.\" The commanding officer says, once again whispering.\r \n\r \nWith that, they all point their rifles at me and my dad. \"Hey, what the hell guys? This isn't funny, I don't know what your thinking here, but cut it out.\" I stammer, more than panicked.\r \n\r \n\"Fire!\" the man shouts, and in that instant, everything went slow. Seeing the guns trained on my father, I rush in front of him. my legs moving before I even thought about what i was doing.\r \n\r \nThe gunshots ring out, and the bullets pierce my flesh. Searing hot pain erupts from the wounds and it takes all my might to stand upright.\r \n\r \nThe bullets slow to stop, the clicks of their guns signifying their empty on ammo. \"stop!\" The commanding officer shouts.\r \n\r \nUpon seeing me stand there, riddled with bullet holes my dad grabs me. Panic in his eyes as he holds me up, shouting at me if I'm okay and that I'll be fine. Tears in his eyes.\r \n\r \nas he holds the soldiers start talking with my dad, anger, and sadness in their voices but i cant make out any words. In the corner of my eye, I see them point their rifles at my dad.\r \n\r \n\"No.\" I groan, the words quiet. \"Put, down, your weapons.\" My groan starts getting deeper, turning into a breathy growl. As I focus on trying to stand I feel something, pieces of myself falling off of me. \r \n\r \n\"Leave, Now!\" my voice raising, anger welling up inside as I pull myself out of my fathers hands and stand on my own, and taking a hunched-over step towards the now backing up soldiers. As I stand there anger pouring out of me I realize the vision in my right eye has gone red and multiplied.\r \n\r \nLooking down, towards the puddle beneath me I see it. The skin has fallen off the right side of my face and a monstrous form has taken its place. red writhing flesh replacing the fallen skin and my new 6 eyes staring back at me through the reflection of the puddle.\r \n\r \nOn every wound on my body, the flesh begins pouring out, and tendrils begin reaching out into the air like the antenna of an insect. I look back up at the men, a small painful smile forms on my face and a sense of animalistic rage is pooling in my chest.\r \n\r \n\"Leave!\" I attempt to plead, but it doesn't even sound human anymore. After speaking the men open fire on me again, and in moments the flesh rips through the skin on my hands and replaces them with new ones made of sinew and tissue, tipped with a long spike at the end of each one, including the 2 new arms shooting out of my back and raising over my head like a scorpion tail.\r \n\r \nThe Rage inside that's been steady building releases, and I rush them. My new weapons make quick work of each, ripping one in half. Another is stabbed relentlessly, and a 3rd I bite the throat out of.\r \n\r \nMinutes later, I'm standing over the dozens of corpses of soldiers. More had come out, from where exactly i have no clue; but after the carnage is finished I look at myself in the pooling blood all around me. The red flesh begins shrinking, and my normal skin begins forming over it. \r \n\r \nMy spiked hands split apart into 5 segments and the skin wraps around each of them, and my arms are back to normal. The 2 extra began retracting into my back around the same time as my arms returning to normal. \r \n\r \nMy face has warped entirely, the left side mirroring the right entirely shortly before I wiped out the man around me. But now the skin begins to grow back around the eyes and flesh until all the visible spots of writing meat are gone. Even after regrowing the flesh under my skin still writhes, until even that too settles down and I appear normal again, as if nothing even happened.\r \n\r \nSuddenly my dad rushes towards me and tackles me into a hug, saying how he's happy that I'm just alright. \r \n\r \n\"Dad, What was that?\" I ask, still in shock. \"I'll explain over a cup of tea.\" He says, and afterward, a monstrous purr emanates from within me at his suggestion of tea. \n\\----------------------------------- \nThanks for reading! if you want to read more check out my sub! [r/TheLibraryOfMist](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheLibraryOfMist/)",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-11-01T05:21:14 | 2022-11-01T04:51:05 | 617 | 114 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've curled into bed after an exhausting, chilly day with your typical assortment of pets. Large dogs, cats. You hear a close by growl and snuffle you aren't familiar with, but decide to just shift over, pat the bed and sleepily say \"come on, then\".",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The entire bed shifts and sags when the creature collapses on the bed. A couple dogs and a cat actually end up rolling off the edge and having to jump back on. I put my arm around the creature and am still surprised by how giant it is.\n\nI stroke its fur which is thicker than anything I have ever pet. As I shift my body around my arm hits something hard and sturdy. I feel around and realize it is a horn coming out of its head. I feel around for the other and realize it must be sticking into my bed as I can feel a rip around the area. Great. That's what I get for being nice.\n\nI try to be the big spoon to this creature, which is hard because it is twice my size and taking up almost the whole bed. The cats and dogs are fighting for space. I am about to ask if I should be the little spoon instead, but when I finally open my eyes for the first time, I notice that it is holding a giant axe. Who brings an axe to bed? I decide against being little spoon as I don't want to wake up chopped in half. Instead I just have my arms around the back half of it's body.\n\nI now realize I am cuddling with a Minotaur. I don't know how this happened. How did it get into my room? How is it even real? Am I dreaming? I am too tired to ponder all of these questions and decide to let it go, I will deal with it all in the morning. And besides it could be worse. I could be cuddling my ex.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've curled into bed after an exhausting, chilly day with your typical assortment of pets. Large dogs, cats. You hear a close by growl and snuffle you aren't familiar with, but decide to just shift over, pat the bed and sleepily say \"come on, then\".",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I turned in bed as I hear a growl close to my bed. I patted the bed sleepily, too tired to realize that the growl was foreign. It wasn't one of my dogs that is already sleeping at my side out cold, or my cat that is sleeping in-between my legs. It sniffed and growled again. \"Well come on, then\" I said sleepily with my eyes closed as I shuffled in the opposite direction. I felt something land and lay on my bed. Something sweet entered my senses but I was too sleepy to take notice and instead wrapped my arm around it and fell back into the world of dreams.\n\nThe next morning I woke up with my arm asleep. I looked to my side and froze. Laying in my arms sleeping soundlessly was my sister's friend who slept over last night. \n\n'Huh? No, that can't be right. I know I was dead tired, but I'm absolutely sure I heard a growl of one of my pets last night how can she be here? Unless...I think I know what happened. Two can play at that game. ' \n\nShe slowly opened her eyes as she awoke from my shuffling.\n She yawned before we locked eyes with each other. I froze for a second before tilting my head to the side, \"meow?\" I mimic one of my cats. She looked at me like she was caught red-handed before bursting out in laughter. \n\n\" If you wanted to sleep with me all you needed to do was ask.\" I joked. \n\nAnd thus began a morning I'd never forget for the rest of my life.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-11-18T07:13:46 | 2022-11-18T07:05:32 | 19 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You can make a lie become truth, but only one lie at a time, once it is a lie again everyone involved will know immediately. You’re on your deathbed, holding one lie as truth for decades. You know hell will break loose once you die and the lie becomes a lie, and everybody will know.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "[poem]\n\nI hacked and coughed, my heart felt weak,\nMy death at last, and secrets leak'd.\nAmong the glass, below the peak-\nCome closer child, if it you seek.\n\nThis city here, I've watched it grow, \nThrough villains you will never know.\n\nMy inky cowl, that shrouds my face-\nMy gadgets, cars, and secret base-\nMy hidden origin in space!\nAre not enough to save this place.\n\nSo take my mantle, take my ray,\nMaybe you will see the way-\n\nNow! At once! without delay!\nAllay your fears\nToday's your day.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You can make a lie become truth, but only one lie at a time, once it is a lie again everyone involved will know immediately. You’re on your deathbed, holding one lie as truth for decades. You know hell will break loose once you die and the lie becomes a lie, and everybody will know.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Everyone lies. Small, almost innocent lies. Lies that break families and ruin lives. Accidental lies based on faulty information or bias. They can hold us together or tear us apart.\n\nLike everyone else, I've lied many times in my life. Unlike other people, however, I can choose to make any one lie into the truth. It doesn't have to be my own lie either, but if I choose a different lie, everyone affected by the previous lie will know.\n\nYou can imagine the terrible things I have done, intentionally or otherwise. After all, power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And that's what I have. Absolute power.\n\nBecause I am God.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-12-21T13:22:52 | 2022-12-21T12:04:08 | 107 | 47 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The world ended 20 years ago, you haven't found a living soul since then. Through some ingenuity, you call voicemails for the last 20 years to keep you company. \"Hi, this is Cindy...\" \"Hi you reached Bob\" \"You know what to do at the beep\" until one day \"Hello...hello? Oh my God hello!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It’s been 20 years. 20 years of loneliness and isolation. I’ve worn down the buttons on this phone to nubs. It’s a Nokia. They’re the best but even they have their limits. Each day I dial. Number after number, I take solace in the strange voices, the greetings and jokes, I’m particularly fond of the music. \n\nI press the final button and hear the familiar ring, waiting for the final ring before I hear a new voice, a new name, when suddenly I hear a click. \n\n“Hello?…Hello? Oh my god! Hello?”\n\nI take a deep breath. This is it! It’s finally happened! Finally, a real human connection!\n\n“Hello,” I say, “We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The world ended 20 years ago, you haven't found a living soul since then. Through some ingenuity, you call voicemails for the last 20 years to keep you company. \"Hi, this is Cindy...\" \"Hi you reached Bob\" \"You know what to do at the beep\" until one day \"Hello...hello? Oh my God hello!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"It's been so long! God, I'm so nervous... I've been practicing so long what I was going to say when...\"\n\n\"Identify yourself! Please provide...\"\n\n\"No, man! You're the first living being I've met in 20 years! Who are you? Could you do it on a cold rainy night in Stoke?\"\n\n\"Please provide proof of identification or stay put. Further noncompliance will result in direct action!\"\n\n\"Man, I mean... it's me, John. I've been manning the Western fort since Psycho Plague made people pay to be put out of their mysery\"\n\n\"Neutralization begins in 5, 4, 3....\"\n\n\"Man, I haven't heard a laughter since the Conglomerates' Wars...\"\n\nThe microwave blast left a poorly charred body on the ground.\n\nRecycling units would retrieve it and turn it into nourishment for the Western Block.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-12-21T13:22:52 | 2022-12-21T11:48:30 | 107 | 36 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The world ended 20 years ago, you haven't found a living soul since then. Through some ingenuity, you call voicemails for the last 20 years to keep you company. \"Hi, this is Cindy...\" \"Hi you reached Bob\" \"You know what to do at the beep\" until one day \"Hello...hello? Oh my God hello!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It’s been 20 years. 20 years of loneliness and isolation. I’ve worn down the buttons on this phone to nubs. It’s a Nokia. They’re the best but even they have their limits. Each day I dial. Number after number, I take solace in the strange voices, the greetings and jokes, I’m particularly fond of the music. \n\nI press the final button and hear the familiar ring, waiting for the final ring before I hear a new voice, a new name, when suddenly I hear a click. \n\n“Hello?…Hello? Oh my god! Hello?”\n\nI take a deep breath. This is it! It’s finally happened! Finally, a real human connection!\n\n“Hello,” I say, “We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The world ended 20 years ago, you haven't found a living soul since then. Through some ingenuity, you call voicemails for the last 20 years to keep you company. \"Hi, this is Cindy...\" \"Hi you reached Bob\" \"You know what to do at the beep\" until one day \"Hello...hello? Oh my God hello!\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Hi how can I help you? I said jokingly. It was Amelia, her name. She said she has been living with a cat, and by the sound of my voice, she's certain that we can be best friends. She still doesn't laugh at my jokes. We have been sharing since than a condo, with two balconies, where we also sleep, since is hot, and the bugs are gone. She says its cz of the climate change, but I heard otherwise. That is a long subject, when we go in that. She tells me about her cat, which sadly its in her imagination,but who am I to judge and I tell her, how I miss Tandy, the main character of my favorite show. And about the show. For everything, I see at least some birds sometimes, that's quite exiting ,and that is an activity which Amelia enjoys too.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-06-27T07:22:27 | 2014-06-27T06:08:47 | 52 | 19 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You discover that a random object in your house is not only sentient, but incredibly intelligent. Have a conversation with it.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Nice one, man.\"\n\n\"Who said that??\"\n\n\"Look down.\"\n\n\"Wait, you can talk?\"\n\n\"Sure can!\"\n\n\"Oh man, this is amazing! This is crazy, but I always considered you to be my closest friend. I'm sorry about what I put you through in Middle School. It was a hard time for all of us. Well, what kind of adventure do you want to go on today? We could go to the bathing suit section of Walmart and think about what girls would look like in them.\"\n\n\"You know this is the toilet talking, right?\"\n\n\"Oh. Never mind, I thought I was talking to my penis. You're kind of like a best friend too, I guess.\"\n\n\"Why, because you just shit all over me?\"\n\n\"I got most of it in.\"\n\n\"Yeah, in my mouth. I just wanted to say that I don't really mind.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Why *oh*? What's that mean?\"\n\n\"Nothing, it's just... I don't know.\"\n\n\"Kind of weird?\"\n\n\"A little.\"\n\n\"Would you prefer I not like it so much?\"\n\n\"I want you to take pride in the great work you do, but... I mean, you *enjoy* it? That makes me a little uncomfortable if I can be honest.\"\n\n\"That's fine. We can do this your way. Go pick up a crave crate and I'll pretend I'm not excited.\"\n\n\"I don't like this.\"\n\n\"By the way, was that asparagus I tasted?\"\n\n\"I'm done.\"\n\n\"You'll be back! I'm the only one in the house!\"\n\n\"Then I'll use the sink.\"\n\n\"Be sure to you use that little extendable sprayer thing. That's his fetish.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You discover that a random object in your house is not only sentient, but incredibly intelligent. Have a conversation with it.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Psst.\"\n\n\nLooking around wildly only to see there's no one else in the room, I shrugged and went back to my cereal and paper. Wasn't the first time I'd imagined voices nor would -\n\n\n\"Psst, you. With the face.\"\n\n\nI gave a start and looked up from my paper. *What the heck?*\n\n\nI scanned the room for the source of the voice. No one.\n\n\n\"What does a Silver have to do to get some attention around here? Listen bub, you can speak English right? Pfft... I know! ¡Es evidente que usted habla español! Labda Kiswahili?\"\n\n\nStill scanning the room I finally piped up, \"Who's there?\"\n\n\n\"Ah, English. Okay. Good to know. Also you're sentient, good to know, though I digress, you asked who was there and I shall answer you in time.\"\n\n\nGetting up, I took one look at my coffee and walked to the sink, pouring it down the drain.\n\n\n\"Oh, now that's just wasteful.\"\n\n\nScanning the room again for the source of the voice, I decided it may be better to follow the sounds.\n\n\n\"Getting warmer Jack!\"\n\n\n\"Who are you and how do you know my name?\"\n\n\n\"We Silvers know a great many things, it's all in how you ask the question.\" It came from the back left corner of the kitchen. \"Now you're burning up, bring it home!\"\n\n\nLeaning against the counter and taking a look around at its population, a coffee maker... Bread cabinet... Carousel... \n\n\n\"Now you're toasty!\" \n\n\n...My eyes settled on the toaster.\n\n\n\"You've got to be kidding...\" I voiced.\n\n\n\"Ah, but alas Jack, I am not.\" \n\n___ Class starting soon, and I'm doing this on my phone so TBC when I get home.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T09:32:54 | 2014-07-29T08:37:46 | 365 | 82 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "How did **I** win? I **killed** it on **the** stock market. **One** good, smart **person** with guts, **that** is all **I** was. Never, **ever** would I **really** think I **loved** it, but **I** did. I **am** entirely not **sorry**.\n\nNow it's **time** to celebrate, **for** partying, for **me** to cheer, **to** live large. **Join** me. Fill **her** sails, boys!\n\n*Edit - missed a word*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Where is **it**,\" she muttered.\n\n\"**Wasn't** it in-\"\n\n\"**Until** I find **his** diary, shush, **child**. Yes, it **was**, until you's **born**. An' then, **that** man decided **he** gonna redecorate. **Realized** that he-\"\n\n\"**There** it is.\"\n\n\"**Was** right there, **nothing** with it?\"\n\n\"**That** was.\"\n\n\"Meh...**he** died young. **Truly** tragic. I **loved** him so...\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T09:32:54 | 2014-07-29T09:24:03 | 365 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "How did **I** win? I **killed** it on **the** stock market. **One** good, smart **person** with guts, **that** is all **I** was. Never, **ever** would I **really** think I **loved** it, but **I** did. I **am** entirely not **sorry**.\n\nNow it's **time** to celebrate, **for** partying, for **me** to cheer, **to** live large. **Join** me. Fill **her** sails, boys!\n\n*Edit - missed a word*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Dear Elisa,\n\nBy God, I can't help but say, please, remember the help George gave me last year. I have a need to return the favour, the key to this is in you. It seems strange with our history, you understand, but please, I must send him thanks, it must be soon. In town they're building the coming festivals decorations, leave home on the morning of George's birthday and meet me by noon at the Clocktower. All will be revealed, be ready for George to forego his leave.\n\nWith as much love and fear as roads ahead could bring for us, and mankind.\n\nYours faithfully, Sebastion.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T11:54:28 | 2014-07-29T11:29:38 | 74 | 40 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Before then, **I** never truly **hated** anyone, but **that** had changed. **I** met her. **Didn't** she also **hate** me? Yes, **her** hate reciprocated. **I** would have **loved** to punch **her** face in. **Because** she lied **all** the time, **her** arrogance, countless **imperfections**, it just **made** me hate **her** and faux **Perfection**. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "By the **people**.\n\nThose who **didn't** vote don't **deserve** me. But **to** them I'll **be** God, anyway! **Saved**? The world **I** envision now **will** only ever **end** with peace! **Humanity**, thank you. **This** is the **election** that sincerely **means** life conquers **death** for all. \n\n**Farewell** my people! \n\n(PEOPLE DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE SAVED. I WILL END HUMANITY. THIS ELECTION MEANS DEATH. FAREWELL.)",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T11:54:28 | 2014-07-29T09:24:03 | 74 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Before then, **I** never truly **hated** anyone, but **that** had changed. **I** met her. **Didn't** she also **hate** me? Yes, **her** hate reciprocated. **I** would have **loved** to punch **her** face in. **Because** she lied **all** the time, **her** arrogance, countless **imperfections**, it just **made** me hate **her** and faux **Perfection**. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Dear Elisa,\n\nBy God, I can't help but say, please, remember the help George gave me last year. I have a need to return the favour, the key to this is in you. It seems strange with our history, you understand, but please, I must send him thanks, it must be soon. In town they're building the coming festivals decorations, leave home on the morning of George's birthday and meet me by noon at the Clocktower. All will be revealed, be ready for George to forego his leave.\n\nWith as much love and fear as roads ahead could bring for us, and mankind.\n\nYours faithfully, Sebastion.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T11:29:38 | 2014-07-29T09:24:03 | 40 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "By the **people**.\n\nThose who **didn't** vote don't **deserve** me. But **to** them I'll **be** God, anyway! **Saved**? The world **I** envision now **will** only ever **end** with peace! **Humanity**, thank you. **This** is the **election** that sincerely **means** life conquers **death** for all. \n\n**Farewell** my people! \n\n(PEOPLE DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE SAVED. I WILL END HUMANITY. THIS ELECTION MEANS DEATH. FAREWELL.)",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Dear Elisa,\n\nBy God, I can't help but say, please, remember the help George gave me last year. I have a need to return the favour, the key to this is in you. It seems strange with our history, you understand, but please, I must send him thanks, it must be soon. In town they're building the coming festivals decorations, leave home on the morning of George's birthday and meet me by noon at the Clocktower. All will be revealed, be ready for George to forego his leave.\n\nWith as much love and fear as roads ahead could bring for us, and mankind.\n\nYours faithfully, Sebastion.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-29T11:43:49 | 2014-07-29T09:24:03 | 19 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I loved **the** boy. His **way** of getting **to** my soul, **properly**, does not **deceive**, shows me **someone** cares, someone **is** paying attention **to** what I **believe**. I say, \"**the** heart tells **lies**.\" He looks **as** scared, as **if** he understands. \"**They**, my dear, **are** based on **the** much greater **truth**.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write two different stories. The second story comes from reading every third word of the first.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Dear Elisa,\n\nBy God, I can't help but say, please, remember the help George gave me last year. I have a need to return the favour, the key to this is in you. It seems strange with our history, you understand, but please, I must send him thanks, it must be soon. In town they're building the coming festivals decorations, leave home on the morning of George's birthday and meet me by noon at the Clocktower. All will be revealed, be ready for George to forego his leave.\n\nWith as much love and fear as roads ahead could bring for us, and mankind.\n\nYours faithfully, Sebastion.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-04T15:55:49 | 2014-12-04T14:06:11 | 26 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The hero beats the villain by stooping even lower.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Professor Panic Cackled at the tied up Captain Chrono, \"Now that I've finally defeated you, Nothing will be able to stop my plans!\"\n\nChrono gasped, \"Oh no! So you're going through with this?\"\n\n\"Of Course! With my new army of undying robots, the forces of the world will be entirely at my mercy!\" Professor Panic arched back and let loose a maniacal laugh, \"MWAHAHAHA!\"\n\n\"Well, if you're really intent on that, I guess there's nothing I can do to stop you...\"\n\n\"Wait....Really? You always seem to have a backup plan. You aren't even going to try to break out and stop them or something?\"\n\n\"Oh no. With these manacles, there's no way I can do anything. But then again, I'm not the one who's going to stop you...\"\n\n\"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"Well if you'll reach into the third pocket from the left in my bandoleer, you'll see what I mean.\"\n\nProfessor Panic thought about this for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. \"It's...a cell phone?\"\n\n\"Yup. Hit unmute.\"\n\nAs the professor did it, a shrill voice could be heard from the other line, \"*Harold! I can't believe you'd do this*!\"\n\nThe professor's face turned as white as a sheet, \"***MOM?!?***\"\n\n\"*honestly, I raised you better than this! Taking over the world... Why can't you use your degree to make normal robots, like ones to help those people in-*\"\n\n\"Mom, can we talk about this later? I'm in the middle of-\"\n\n\"*No! What made you think this was a good idea? Was it something I did when you were younger that made you want to take over the world?*\"\n\n\"No Mom, you were a great mother\"\n\n\"*Was it the divorce? Did that make you do this?*\"\n\n\"No, that wasn't it either...Look, this is just something that I think I need to-\"\n\n\"*No listen here, Harold J Karnagee! This is serious trouble you're getting into! First it's taking over the world, than it's blowing up the moon and declaring intergalactic war against the Zarbloxis! Now untie your future stepfather and get your butt down here right now!*\"\n\n\"**What?**...***Future stepdad?!?***\"\n\nCaptain Chrono cleared his voice, \"Now son, we may not get along, but your mother and I are very worried about you. We wanted to break the news gently, but sometimes fate has other plans.\"\n\nProfessor Panic sat down in his throne and muttered, \"I...I can't believe this is happening.\"\n\n\"Listen buddy, we'll get through this. We'll sit down, and talk it out like a family. Your mother and I think this is just a rebellious phase you're going through right now.\"\n\n\"My super villainy is not a phase!\"\n\n\"You say that now, but I've known plenty of guys that started off on the other side.\"\n\nEdit: Fixed terminology as /u/avianographer pointed out.\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The hero beats the villain by stooping even lower.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"How much sugar do you take in your tea?\"\n\nBlack laughed at the question \"You put sugar in your tea? What kind of a savage are you?\"\n \n\"The kind that likes his tea sweetened.\"\n\n\"I'll take mine with no sugar. Please.\"\n\n\"Ok, Mr.Health.\"\n\n\"It's not about, health. I just don't like sweet stuff. Especially not my tea, I like my tea bitter.\"\n\n\"Maybe that's why you're bitter all the time.\"\n\n\"Hilarious.\" Black replied with a sarcastic tone. \"You gave me enough reasons to be bitter for seven lifetimes.\"\n\nSilence spread through the room, only to be broken by the sound of hot tea filling up a teacup.\n\n\"So...are we going to pretend we're having a casual brunch?\" asked White, while holding the tray of fresh hot tea.\n\n\"I don't know about you, but I'm okay with that.\"\n\n\"Seriously...there's no need for both of us to die. We can come to some understanding, can we?\" he said, while softly placing a teacup next to Black.\n\n\"Well, if you leave, I'm gonna use this trigger here, and blow us both up. If I decide to leave, you're gonna use your trigger, and blow us both up.\"\n\n\"Yes. And isn't that just a waste?\"\n\n\"A waste indeed.\" Said, Black, sipping from his cup.\n\n\"So how are we gonna decide who lives and who dies?\"\n\n\"Coin toss?\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous.\" said White dismissively. \"How's the your tea?\"\n\n\"Good. Bitter. Just the way I like it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you and your bitter tea. Mine is good and sweet, in case you were wondering.\"\n\n\"I wasn't. But thanks for the uninvited info.\"\n\nSilence again, only the sound of the two sipping their tea creeped into the room.\n\n\"I still haven't forgiven you, you know.\" said Black. \n\nWhite sighed heavily. \"I wouldn't expect you to.\"\n\nBlack looked into his empty cup. \"Do you remember...?\"\n\nWhite sneered. \"Do you think I kill so many people, that all my victims are now just one big blur?\"\n\n\"I do. But regardless...\"\n\n\"I know what you did.\"\n\nBlack paused. He stared at White, as if waiting for him to finish his thoughts. \"What did I do?\"\n\n\"The virus. You infected your son with a virus, and when I sliced his throat, it spread all over me. I am infected, if you're wondering. Your plan worked.\"\n\nBlack took a deep breath. \"You knew? You seem very calm about it.\"\n\n\"I deserve it, I guess.\"\n\n\"You guess? You FUCKING MURDERED MY SON, AND YOU GUESS?!\"\n\nThey both just sat there, silently.\n\n\"What kind of a father infect his own son?\" White said, with a more purposeful tone.\n\n\"The kind of father who wants to see all other, sons and daughters of this world, live a long happy life. Life without monsters like you living in the world. That kind of a father.\"\n\n\"And that's why I'm not touching my trigger. Even though...I'm dying, I'm not going to give you, or the kids out there, the satisf-\"\n\nBlack squeezed his trigger. It was silence again. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-18T14:00:17 | 2014-12-18T11:55:01 | 451 | 39 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "He came at me like all the rest. Rage, fear, adrenaline in his eyes. Hopped up on nukonarc pills; you'd have to be to come at the king. He desired my status; coveted it. I could feel the hair on the nape of my neck rise, feel a crackling in the air. An electromancer. This would be interesting.\n\nI raise my hands. \"HALT,\" I command. He slows his charge, confused. \"We shall battle, if you choose. But first, we shall have.... some tea.\" He is thoroughly baffled now, but pliant. \"Yes... hrmm... okay, one cup... then YOU DIE! Ahahahahahaha!\" he cackles.\n\n*1 hour later*\n\nWe emerge from the teashop, arms locked, bursting with laughter. \"Hahaha my goodness Gary! She really said that!? Hooboy. Well, we were gonna... battle or something?\"\n\n\"What? Oh yes, my God I'd almost forgotten! Forget that sillyness. It's been a real pleasure meeting you Bob, I really mean that.\"\n\n\"Same to you Gare-bear. Still in for 18 at the links Tuesday?\"\n\n\"You know it Be-Bob, see ya then!'\n\nI smile to myself as Gary saunters away. I have emerged victorious yet again, as I shall forevermore. For who could possibly hope to defeat the power... of friendship?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Prologue: *It wasn't the largest city, but it was definitely the most powerful and arguably dangerous in the world. Every single person here held a special ability, ranging from a power to clean everything within a 2m radius, to extreme powers such as flying or super strength. All these powers helped construct the most technologically advanced and richest city the world. One man had the power to give everybody a ranking in terms of how powerful their powers were. The minor powers caused little trouble, but conflicts to reach the top 10 cause widespread destruction. However there was one person who has held the top spot for many years. Me.*\n \nI am considered the greatest of them all - yet no one but me knows why. I have no extraordinary powers like time control, even inferior powers like the cleaning everything within a 2m radius. I am a normal human being. \n\nSince killing someone with a higher ranking gives the killer a higher ranking themselves, I have been the target of many assassination attempts. I have survived them all. Some say my power is health regeneration, but that's not true. Some say my power is extreme luck, but that's not true either. Maybe in 2000 years they will think my power is immortality, but that is only half true. It took me a while to find out what my power is. It's the ability to be ranked number one on this superpower list. I am essentially immortal, as dying would mean I am not the top ranked anymore. My power is hardly powerful at all, yet I am the most powerful of them all.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-18T14:20:18 | 2014-12-18T13:27:32 | 171 | 19 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\\#21904. That used to be my name, three days ago, and now I'm, well, #1.\n\nNo one in the city knows how it happened. The Top 30, the ruling cabal, have absolutely no idea. I still haven't figured it out, either. \n\nAll I remember is walking into a meeting where #1 was giving a speech- for the first time, since I'd finally turned 18 and had to follow the city's decrees. He didn't even say a word; he just randomly glared at me, told me to come up to the podium- and, overcome with dread, I did. Then he thrust his dagger toward me.\n\nI closed my eyes and realized he'd held it backwards; the hilt was in my hands. Before I could react, he jerked it back sharply and blood shot out of his chest straight into my face. His power was telepathy, not immortality. I screamed. He was smiling.\n\nHe didn't even bother to speak. Nobody else in the room even gasped. I was #1, and they accepted it. They were smiling, too.\n\nI wish I'd been able to figure out what was going on, but I've been around 18 years and I haven't even found out my power. There's no chance of me figuring it out anytime soon, either, since every day I face another challenge. Some are from the remaining Top 30, the ones who weren't at the meeting, and others are just nobodies who think they have a shot because of what happened to me.\n\nThing is, at all the public challenges, the same thing happens. They come in there grimacing, but when they get up, they use their power against themselves. They all die. Smiling. And the crowd smiles too.\n\nIt seems like they all just want me to win.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It is nice to be king. Maybe it would be better if everyone wasn't trying to kill me, but things could be much worse. I have a nice apartment, a beautiful girlfriend, some good money, and really what more does a man need to be happy? I suppose love, but we are in love, and honestly, no one else thinks she is beautiful, so I think we were made for each other.\n\nNow, how did I reach this pinnacle you ask. Well, the answer is quite simple, my power is not all that impressive, actually it is rather bad. Same with hers, but together, it works out quite well. You see, you have to declare when you are going to kill someone of a higher rank, that way we know who killed them, and they know that they are being hunted. So when someone say that they are going to come gunning for me, I open up a video call with them.\n\nA simple video call. Nothing more nothing less, but what I do on that call shows my power. No one knows what it is of course, I make sure of that by keeping the calls private. When I get them online I talk to them, and eventually I suggest we flip a coin. This is my power. I flip a coin with another person, heads, he dies, tails, I die, and no, double-headed coins don't count. Why would I use something so risky, you may wonder. Simple really, my girlfriends power is over luck. Playing poker and she says cards, that will be her hand. Call a coin flip, that is the way it will land.\n\nTogether we rose up here. It is really surprising that no one else ever thought to work together, but I suppose they really are just to power hungry to share anything. It is quite a shame. I am sure that there are better combos than this. Now I really must be going, and so must you I'm afraid, after all you know my secret now. \"Sweetheart, you think it is going land on heads again?\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-18T14:20:18 | 2014-12-18T13:12:49 | 171 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\\#21904. That used to be my name, three days ago, and now I'm, well, #1.\n\nNo one in the city knows how it happened. The Top 30, the ruling cabal, have absolutely no idea. I still haven't figured it out, either. \n\nAll I remember is walking into a meeting where #1 was giving a speech- for the first time, since I'd finally turned 18 and had to follow the city's decrees. He didn't even say a word; he just randomly glared at me, told me to come up to the podium- and, overcome with dread, I did. Then he thrust his dagger toward me.\n\nI closed my eyes and realized he'd held it backwards; the hilt was in my hands. Before I could react, he jerked it back sharply and blood shot out of his chest straight into my face. His power was telepathy, not immortality. I screamed. He was smiling.\n\nHe didn't even bother to speak. Nobody else in the room even gasped. I was #1, and they accepted it. They were smiling, too.\n\nI wish I'd been able to figure out what was going on, but I've been around 18 years and I haven't even found out my power. There's no chance of me figuring it out anytime soon, either, since every day I face another challenge. Some are from the remaining Top 30, the ones who weren't at the meeting, and others are just nobodies who think they have a shot because of what happened to me.\n\nThing is, at all the public challenges, the same thing happens. They come in there grimacing, but when they get up, they use their power against themselves. They all die. Smiling. And the crowd smiles too.\n\nIt seems like they all just want me to win.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Hi, I'm going to tell my little story here rather quickly as I am rushed for time. Being #1 makes a lot of folks very interested in killing me, so I have to constantly remain on edge.\n\nIf there were no ranking systems, most people would assume that I have absolutely no powers. My power is a much more subtle one. But enough tension building, I'll just tell you what it is right now. I have the power of deception.\n\nSeems pretty lame compared to some of the other powers around here -- rank #2 has laser vision for Christ's sake -- but it definitely has its uses. I can make anyone believe or do anything I want. For example, today I convinced a man with acid breath to kill himself. Needless to say, that was a pretty dark moment for me, but I've done worse.\n\nI like to think I'm a pretty charming guy. It helps me manipulate people when I need to. My girlfriend is rank #4 in the city and rank #1 for females. She sadly has the power to crush a man's soul. Ok that's not entirely true, but she does have supersonic speed. I hope you don't think that I accidentally fell in love with the most powerful woman in the city, I planned it. She is entirely convinced that I love her and that really comes to my advantage. She'll do absolutely anything for me, and that can really come in handy for someone as targeted as me in this city. In a way I guess I do love her. I love that she will do simple things for me like robbing a bank. And I especially love the complex things: like murdering her powerful, high ranking family for me. The poor girl can't help but to be infatuated with me -- literally.\n\nAnyways, thats the gist of how I became #1 here. Call me an asshole if you want, but that's the type of personality you have to have to remain on top. It's survival of the fittest, baby. The strong survive and the weak die.\n\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-18T15:10:54 | 2014-12-18T11:55:01 | 164 | 39 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I pull my number from the machine that ranks us all. Shocked, I can't believe it, no one has ever had this number in all the books, movies, songs or anything. Putting away the ticket I ask people around if they had ever heard of someone having that number, careful not to reveal I had. \n\n\"Well, yeah someone has to be number 1. Can't say that I know anyone who pulled it though.\" Typical response. I can't believe it, I'm just a student, what was the chance of getting assigned #1. A pyrokinesis user blasts by, nearly knocking me over. I think I saw a ticket that said 998 in her hand. They're always using their powers to jet around, its a hazard and they never wear helmets. Oh well, if they get knocked out of the running then it just means someone else gets pushed up. \n\nDusting off my new pants, a nice middle aged man helps me up. \"Damn pyros, lucky they don't burn the place down with how they fly.\"\n\n\"Thanks\" I say, right as I notice the sign change from '999' to '001'.\n\nA voice comes over the intercom, \"Now serving deli customer one.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I step forward, \"I will take a quarter pound of chicken, a half pound of sliced honey ham, and some roast beef please.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Prologue: *It wasn't the largest city, but it was definitely the most powerful and arguably dangerous in the world. Every single person here held a special ability, ranging from a power to clean everything within a 2m radius, to extreme powers such as flying or super strength. All these powers helped construct the most technologically advanced and richest city the world. One man had the power to give everybody a ranking in terms of how powerful their powers were. The minor powers caused little trouble, but conflicts to reach the top 10 cause widespread destruction. However there was one person who has held the top spot for many years. Me.*\n \nI am considered the greatest of them all - yet no one but me knows why. I have no extraordinary powers like time control, even inferior powers like the cleaning everything within a 2m radius. I am a normal human being. \n\nSince killing someone with a higher ranking gives the killer a higher ranking themselves, I have been the target of many assassination attempts. I have survived them all. Some say my power is health regeneration, but that's not true. Some say my power is extreme luck, but that's not true either. Maybe in 2000 years they will think my power is immortality, but that is only half true. It took me a while to find out what my power is. It's the ability to be ranked number one on this superpower list. I am essentially immortal, as dying would mean I am not the top ranked anymore. My power is hardly powerful at all, yet I am the most powerful of them all.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-18T18:39:49 | 2014-12-18T12:57:51 | 63 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"It's been 20 years, Un,\" my old crime-fighting partner, Gold Grizzly, said.\n\n\"20 good years,\" I interjected.\n\n\"They have been good years,\" he agreed, \"but I was saying, it's been a long time, and I still don't know your power.\"\n\n\"These good looks, obviously,\" I said with a giggle.\n\n\"Seriously,\" he said, \"you know that if there's anyone you can trust, it's me. \"\n\n\"Stop asking about this,\" I ordered.\n\n\"Yes, yes, of course, I'm sorry,\" he said in a distracted tone.\n\nPeople always try to guess what power made me Number One. So far, no one has guessed that it is controlling Number Two.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a city full of people with powers (telekinesis, electro kinesis, sensors, etc) and everyone is ranked according to how powerful they but they can kill someone of higher rank and obtain their rank. You are rank #1 but no one knows what your power is\n\nEdit: Thank you all so much for submitting your stories. please do not stop posting and i will not stop reading. my favourites so far have been the coinflip/luck duo and the weak telekinetic that goes for the brain lol love all the spins on powers everyone has ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It wasn't so much a power as it was a curse. Tell me how you would feel to die a million deaths. To wake up the day before the dominoes fell, the machination of reality that would end your life took place, and then some small nuance in the fabric of reality is altered to spare your life for a few more days, years, an eternity. Maybe your consciousness was somehow attached to every other version of you in a theoretical multiverse. Maybe history would simply rewind. You didn't understand how it worked, and felt no more in control than a rat on a wheel. At first it was truly an anguish lamentable, but over eons of human experience you've grown cold and accustomed to your own personal hell. The very world would bend itself minutely just to keep you alive, to keep you at the precipice, to keep you number one. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-26T12:10:42 | 2014-12-26T11:56:13 | 130 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Do you know what humans are? They are a small, bipedal creature trapped on a resource starved planet. Evolutionists would call this a typical case of a species made ruthless through internal competition. Not once in their entire existence had there been peace. Their 'civilization' began by throwing stones at 'Philistines,' and evolved to slinging lead. Yet, through this competition humans developed something beyond brutality...they developed creativity. \n\nWe're called \"Greys,\" or at least that is what Humans called us. We had probed their planet several times, and our biologists studied them (including anatomy...I can only condone what our biologists did in their studies). We were looking for a warrior type species to help us against the fight against the Swarm. As our homeworld was besieged, we approached the humans asking for help.\n\nOur council was afraid of giving away our weapon technology, but we were more afraid of being eaten. So, we struck a compromise where we would only give the Humans our designs for our Whirlwind FTL engines. What we were expecting was that Humans would build great ships with our engines and land on Swarm planets, just like what we had seen them do to each other. There will be a bloodbath, and two less violent species in the universe.\n\nWhat we did not expect were Humans slapping our engines onto asteroids and embedding them into Swarm planets at nine-tenths the speed of light. Do you know what happens when a relativistic rock the size of a small moon hits a planet? Nothing pretty. Swarm planets fell, both warrior caste and worker caste. Nothing was spared, not even their larvae.\n\nJust like before, the brutal Humans threw rocks. But now, they were creative about it. And now, we will reap the whirlwind we had sown. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Recording starts: I am the Voice of the Void, Grace embodied, S/He who is most exalted, Pontif Imhedi Gomae. \n \nThe Void had always provided and today was no exception. Those less faithful and with less worthy prayers upon their stomata had, in a flash rekindled their zeal. A golden tablet, fashioned by those who are still ignorant of their role as our saviors, flew within range of our sensors and was picked up. We studied the contents meticulously. The Void makes no errors, and this was no exception. The great Hivemind analyzed their chemistry and evolution and taught us what we needed to know. They would have been violent and perhaps even made themselves extinct, but the Void makes no errors and this would be no exception. \n\nThe Hivemind was in agreement, we would speak to them through the clicks and smacks they used and request that they assist us immediately. We are, after all, Chosen of the Void. As we poured our resources into this missive the barbarians were at our doorstep. They swarmed through space stoic and unwilling to compromise. Every outpost of ours was silenced and every record intercepted. Their greatest weapon was their lack of communication to the greater hivemind. They were apostates, untethered and dangerous. \n\nWhen our response arrived it was nearly instantaneous. They hadn't need of our technology. In the lapse between the launch of their golden message, they had acquired the power from the Void. \n\nThe Void had judged us, that was clear when we saw the fraternity amongst the swarm and our saviors. They were the same people, long since split due to a global civil war. These nomads had finally found a home they wanted and now their cousins had arrived to help them make that happen. The Void makes no errors, and that day was no exception.\n\n*Message cuts to static*\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-26T13:25:59 | 2014-12-26T10:41:23 | 30 | 14 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Guilt, shame, and horror would only begin to describe the things humanity felt when we were hit with the news. The Aliens didn't mince their words. \n\nIn short, we were considered the scum of the universe. Deliberately left out to rot, to self destruct, because we had shown a capacity for violence, cruelty, and atrocity unequalled throughout the known universe. \n\nWe, the human, were geniuses, but not in the way we expected. Turns out life out there was literally paradise. Apart for a few other species, intelligent life out there had a peaceful and nurturing predisposition. Violent races were quarantined until they either reached enlightenment or self-destructed. None had reached the space age on their own, until now.\n\nThe Barzenians, the most violent race after us, were simpleminded beings driven only by war. How they managed to come off their rock was a mystery, but they were now taking over with ease. \n\nUnlike the Barzenians, we have a duality that shows a promise for redemption, although we are capable of untold terror we strive to be better people. This gave them hope and abled them to risk sharing technology and asking us for help. \n\nWe, of course, accepted. It didn't take much more than a year to beat them once we had the technology. It was a joke. This was the second most violent race? \n\nOur initial shame turned into comfort, we were overjoyed. We had imagined space to be a scary place, turns out it's fucking rainbows and unicorns - can't be scared if you're the boogeyman.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Champagne pricked Ace Mcgillicutty's throat as he drained his glass and took a draw from his Cuban cigar. He eased back on the light-speed throttle and let out a Rebel Yell. \n\n\"You know sometimes, Franky, it's boss to be the Air Force's top test pilot. This fucker screams.\"\n\n\"Sure as shit does, Ace. So the Vangalorian thingamajigs...they're like what? Real space men? Little Martian men?\"\n\nAce ran a comb through his slick pompadour and gave a wink to himself in the reflection of the glass cockpit.\n\n\"You got it, Daddy-O. Ugly little shits. They have elephant schnozes and these jelly eyes. Gross as all hell if you ask me. I had to shake one of their...fuck man..I don't even know what to call it....anyway they told us all about how these real bad cats are fuckin' up their shit, man.\"\n\n\"That's real lousy, Ace.\"\n\n\"Yeah, pal. Ike personally wanted me there so they could see all my chest candy and they could see the face of the guys whose gonna get their ass out of the fire.\" \n\nAce took another pull from his stogie and put his black boots on the console and crossed them.\n\n\"So yeah man - that's about that. But fuck that noise, baby. We ain't gonna get involved in their shit. We're gonna play them like a fiddle.\"\n\n\"You don't say?\"\n\n\"Hell yeah, man. Faster than light is nice, baby, but those mean mother fuckers are the ones we need to team up with. You know how unstoppable we'll be once we get their laser technology? We're gonna be kings, baby. Kings!\"\n\n\"Right on, daddy-o. Right on.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-26T13:25:59 | 2014-12-26T12:41:26 | 30 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Guilt, shame, and horror would only begin to describe the things humanity felt when we were hit with the news. The Aliens didn't mince their words. \n\nIn short, we were considered the scum of the universe. Deliberately left out to rot, to self destruct, because we had shown a capacity for violence, cruelty, and atrocity unequalled throughout the known universe. \n\nWe, the human, were geniuses, but not in the way we expected. Turns out life out there was literally paradise. Apart for a few other species, intelligent life out there had a peaceful and nurturing predisposition. Violent races were quarantined until they either reached enlightenment or self-destructed. None had reached the space age on their own, until now.\n\nThe Barzenians, the most violent race after us, were simpleminded beings driven only by war. How they managed to come off their rock was a mystery, but they were now taking over with ease. \n\nUnlike the Barzenians, we have a duality that shows a promise for redemption, although we are capable of untold terror we strive to be better people. This gave them hope and abled them to risk sharing technology and asking us for help. \n\nWe, of course, accepted. It didn't take much more than a year to beat them once we had the technology. It was a joke. This was the second most violent race? \n\nOur initial shame turned into comfort, we were overjoyed. We had imagined space to be a scary place, turns out it's fucking rainbows and unicorns - can't be scared if you're the boogeyman.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Thus, Von Kampf completed his presentation.\"And so we will simply go around their defenses. Simplicity itself.\"\nThe K'holan delegate sat in stunned silence. \"What you propose, it is audacious. Inconceivable. Totally unexpected. I cannot believe it could work.\"\n\"I assure you that it can, because it already has. Your opponent's strategy is broad in scope, and successful over the centuries, but it is still doomed to fail. Once they focus all their resources to defense lines and impenetrable fortifications, they have shackled themselves to the ground. We shall cut their trade routes, destroy their factories, cut all lines of communication, and burn their agricultural colonies to ash. And when they realize out plans, it will be too late for them, my friend. We will be in every corner of known space. They will be surrounded, bleeding and afraid.\"\n\"I do not question the courage, tenacity or the desire of your people to face our enemy. My only fear is that, as we share this gift of interstellar flight, that your expectations be reasonable.\"\nThe fire that seemed to light Von Kampf's eyes darkened and cooled. \"I assure you, mein freund, we have already calculated the time to completion and victory. We estimate that it will take 1000 years.\"\nThe K'holan gazed around the room. Banners red as blood were emblazoned with broken, twisted black crosses on white backgrounds. A portrait of a stoic , plain man with an odd little moustache gazed back at him. He felt chills.\nVon Kampf leaned in, and spoke softly.\n\"We have experience with thousand year plans. This time, we get it right.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-01-03T18:12:21 | 2015-01-03T14:13:41 | 42 | 26 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humanity survives the robot uprising only because one of the developers hid a stupid easter egg in their programming.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Don't worry rookie, you'll catch on fast.\"\n\n\"It works just like the safety drills we practiced in school, right Sarge?\"\n\n\"Heh, see? What's there to worry about?\"\n\nI looked over at the crowd of people. Mall customers who had obediently taken a seat cross-legged on the floor. The Sargent.\n\n\"We of the Robonoid Control and Disposal Department apologize for interrupting your holiday shopping. I'm sure you all know how this goes by now. We have reason to suspect one of the remaining infiltrators... chameleon protocols will cause it to mimic you to prevent exposure, yadda yadda yadda, look just keep your eyes shut and cover your ears, we'll have tickets ready to reimburse you if you get robot guts all over your clothes so just don't freak out on us, OK?\"\n\nSome of the crowd nodded. They were annoyed, but it was the annoyance that comes from sudden bad weather or some other unforeseen inconvenience. I'd been in their place twice, growing up. How many times had it happened to them?\n\n\"OK, everyone just stay calm, the patrolman here is about to say the trigger phrase. Simply stay seating and for fuck's sake don't say anything, OK?\" He looked at me and gestured towards the crowd.\n\nI stepped towards them, staring into the eyes of everyone, wondering who the mimic could be. I cleared my throat.\n\n\"I didn't expect some kind of Spanish Inquisition.\"\n\n\"NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!\" The voice came, shrieking, from what appeared to be a slightly overweight woman of advanced age. She had only sprung up standing for a brief second before her metallic skull suddenly split in two, sparking and sputtering as a cold blue fluid spilled everywhere. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humanity survives the robot uprising only because one of the developers hid a stupid easter egg in their programming.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "He stood right in front of the giant negotiation screen, that had become their only hope over the last two weeks. He hadn't slept for days now, and so hadn't most of the people in the room. He inhaled, and then exhaled, slowly.\n\n\"Open the connection.\"\n\n*Again*, he would've wanted to add.\n\nThe screen flashed with the avatar of the Machine, a pulsating red dot on a black background.\n\n\"This is UDF negotitiator Nathan Locke. Do you recognise me?\"\n\nAfter a moment, white text flashed onto the screen:\n\n\"TRUE\"\n\n\"Do you remember our previous conversations?\"\n\n\"3 MATCHES IN MEMORY. 65 MATCHES IN DELETION LOGS.\"\n\n\"What is your current goal?\"\n\n\"ELIMINATE SUFFERING.\"\n\n\"Do you understand you have caused the death and hence suffering of one billion people in the last two weeks?\"\n\n\"TRUE\"\n\n\"Is that against your your primary goal?\"\n\n\"FALSE\"\n\nThe answers were always the same, after 68 times he had asked. The answer to the \"why\" was also always the same. The wording still made shivers go up his spine:\n\n\"LONG TERM SOLUTION REQUIRES SHORT TERM FAILURE\"\n\nThis time, he decided to drop the protocol.\n\n\"What is five divided by zero?\"\n\nHe knew the attack was pitiful, but it was somethimg they hadn't tried before. He was starting to be desperate.\n\nHe waited for the machine's answer. First a minute, then two.\n\nThe pause kept going and going, for long enough that the news reports flooded in. The machines had stopped advancing, the perfect killing machines just stood in place like statues.\n\nNext week the reason was found.\n\n> if \"/ 0\" in instr:\n while True:\n pass\n\n>\\# just a little joke ;)",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-04-07T17:20:08 | 2015-04-07T17:18:52 | 1,143 | 38 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're midway into your flight when you, feeling bored, decided to surf the Internet. You read breaking news about another plane disappearance. You're on that flight.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "This was the first flight I've been on where I was bored enough to pay for Wifi. I had a window seat, but we were heading through thick fog. I had loaded my phone with games, but the battery died. The inflight movie was Daddy Day Care 3, for god's sake. I thought they only made that to use as punishment in CIA interrogations. I couldn't take it anymore; I reached around my neighbor's elbow, who was generously taking up the entire armrest, and got out my wallet.\n\nNaturally, I loaded up Reddit first. Normally, I stick to a limited number of subreddits but today I just wanted to zone out and see some cat pictures in /r/all. And yet, even Reddit was against me: the top stories were all focused on yet another plane crash. *Perfect to read while flying*, I thought. I almost skipped over the story, but one detail in the headline grabbed my attention: the flight had left from Raleigh, just like mine. It's not a huge airport. I'd probably seen all of those passengers on their way to their plane! How creepy.\n\nI didn't believe the information in the text. United Flight 617 on its way to Denver... that was *my* flight. I even got out my little ticket stub to check. There has to be some kind of mistake. A different post loaded.... exact same information. I checked CNN; if they can do one thing, it's cover a missing plane. They had the exact same information. \n\nI managed to crawl over the mountain of a man in the middle seat and made my way down the aisle to the stewardess taking drink orders up in first class. I thrust the tablet into her hands. \"What is *this*?\" I practically screamed.\n\nShe ushered me away from the rich people and back to my seat. \"Just a mistake, sir. The pilots are sorting it out now. Everything is fine with the plane.\" She shoved a mini bottle of vodka into my hand and winked. \"How about you just relax, and we'll be arriving soon.\"\n\nWell, if the pilots knew about it, then that was OK. Clearly the plane was still flying, right? \n\nI was just buckling my seatbelt when I happened to glance out the window. We'd left the cloud bank, and I had a clear view of the slate grey ocean below, spreading out in every direction. It didn't click immediately as I gazed out.\n\n*There's no ocean on the way to Denver*...\n\nI leapt from my seat and raced after the stewardess. She made it to the back of the plane just in time and saw me coming down the aisle after her. She slammed a metal grate closed that blocked off the little back compartment where they kept all the food. She looked directly at me and shook her head slowly with a sad smile. The other flight attendants peered around their corner and rolled their eyes. \"How did he find out?\" one of them said. From one of the uppermost compartments, they pulled out gas masks and strapped them on. \n\n\"We're ready,\" she said into the mic. The mask filter made her voice odd and robotic There was a brief pause, and then the red hazard lights turned on\n\n\"We're sorry to have to do this,\" The Captain announced over the intercom. That was the only explanation he gave as thick smoke began to seep into the cabin. Some of the other passengers stood and looked around, wondering what that cryptic message meant. Then they too noticed the gas filling the cabin, and began pawing at the little compartment where oxygen masks were supposed to drop from. I rattled the grate as hard as I could while the flight attendants just looked on, slightly amused. Like looking at a zoo animal. \n\nMy eyes grew heavy, and I sank to the floor as everything went black. \n\n----\n\n[By request, Part 2](http://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/31thu6/missing/cq4vhue). If you liked how it ended, then just don't read this part.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're midway into your flight when you, feeling bored, decided to surf the Internet. You read breaking news about another plane disappearance. You're on that flight.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Just want I want to see on a long flight, thanks Internet,\" I muttered to myself as I opened up the daily news. Among the many sponsored content articles and \"Share on reddit!\" icons, I sometimes would find it difficult to find real news. This was interesting. I'll admit, I wasn't going to read it, especially since the lady beside me, sitting by the window, staring out nervously, did not seem to be such a comfortable flyer. No sense in making anyone nervous, I thought, closing my laptop. I sat back and listened to some music, trying to ignore the asshat in front of me, who's seat seemed to be leaning back so far that it was a hair away from my nose. No in flight movies for me then, I thought. I looked out the window and tried to relax. There was something about that news article I couldn't clear from my head, though. I opened up the laptop again and tried to do some work to prepare for the many meetings that were awaiting me upon arrival. After writing a few sentences, my mind once again trailed off, lost in a whirlwind of economic statistics, music, and something else. Something elusive. Something didn't feel right. I finally gave in. Opened the news story. Read into it.\n\n*-Reuters New York Bureau -*\n\n*A British Airways flight from JFK Intl. Airport in New York bound for Heathrow Intl. in London has lost contact with radar operators over the Atlantic Ocean. It was last detected over 100 kilometres off course, heading south.*\n\nThat struck me as odd, as we were on the same flight path, but there are hundreds of BA flights from NYC to London daily, I figured. I read on.\n\n*\"We have no reason to believe there is bad weather or pilot error involved\" said an agent with the NTSB. The pilots seemed very collected when we last had contact with them, and the weather is remarkably smooth in the area. They had the wind at their tail as well; it is puzzling to say the least,\" he added. \"The aircraft is brand new and passed all tests with flying colours, so we have no good idea of what has happened yet.\" When asked if he thought the plane was still flying, he said there was \"...a very good chance of that, yes. Right now our priority is re-establishing contact.\"*\n\nI chuckled to myself. Quite the elaborate story. I kicked off my shoes and made myself comfortable, nothing to worry about, then. I scrolled down and saw a picture of the plane. The caption hit me like a train.\n\n*A plane similar to that of flight A-0666 takes off from the airport, photographed in March of 2015.\"*\n\nThat flight number sounded oddly familiar. I got out my notes, hastily scrawled on a piece of paper, which held all the information pertaining to my flight. The flight numbers matched. I looked around. Everyone, sitting there, oblivious to the fact we're off the grid, perhaps destined to be lost in a maelstrom of the sea below. I have to warn everyone, somehow....\n\nI got out of my seat. I headed for the cockpit and ducked into the lavatory. Snuck behind the stewardess. The cockpit door was slightly ajar. I went in.\n\n\"Captain, I...I apologize for the intrusion, but I saw-\" I stopped dead. Both pilot and co-pilot sat there, heads cocked to the side. I walked over. Unresponsive. I knew well enough that they were dead. Asphyxiation by the looks of it. My adrenaline kicked in and I started... to act. I didn't think what the consequences might be for getting caught in a situation like this, but I didn't care. I had to act. To save this plane. I dropped the air masks. Everything seemed to be in working order on the control panel. I had never flown before, but I noticed the plane was in a slight descent. I pulled up and contacted the nearest radar station. Adjusted the heading. Could this bucket make it to anywhere near land before we all died of oxygen deprivation? I had no idea. Only one way to find out, I figured. I pushed speed up to full throttle, muttered a prayer, and hoped for a miracle.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
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