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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2017-01-06T07:32:00 | 2017-01-06T07:21:31 | 24 | 14 | [
{
"content": "[WP] They say the ancient dragons died long ago, wiped off the face of the earth by the first lords for the safety of all. No one ever told you what danger they truly posed. Now you stand before one, eyes have met, yet it does not lift a claw to harm you...",
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"content": "How was I to know?\n\nI'm not a young child, quite the opposite, in fact. I don't normally lose my way in these woods that I know like the back of my hand. But I suppose my failing memory is finally taking it's toll, because I found myself wandering along paths that I'd never seen before. My simple trip to the fish market had turned into a wandering exploration without me ever intending it.\n\nWhen I finally found a landmark I was sure I'd seen before, I turned left. But yet again, I ended up in a place as strange to me as the bottom of the ocean. The entrance of a cave mouth, dark and dreary.\n\nAnd it was starting to rain.\n\nI hustled inside, with my basket of fish slung over my shoulders, standing just by the entrance as I waited for the sky to cease it's mourning. But the longer I stood, the harder it rained, and the darker it got. Soon, I decided it would simply be best to camp here overnight.\n\nHow was I to know?\n\nSoon, the patter of the rain became too much for my old head, and I moved deeper in the cave, trying to find some peace. The darkness was everywhere, but it hardly bothered me.\n\nA few of the rocks were slippery, and I edged my way carefully around them. A crossroads lay in front of me, a splitting of the path, and I chose the right hand side.\n\nAs I traversed, the strangest things began to happen. I heard noises, of scraping stone, but slow and smooth. I saw light, flickering up ahead. I felt waves of heat, pushing forward and upward through the cave.\n\nI never imagined what it could be. I assumed travelers, or others who were lost. There had been no danger in the kingdom for years and years.\n\nWhen I emerged into the lower cave, the heat was almost unbearable. But the sight that greeted my eyes was of gold and gems, piles of riches glimmering in the light of a massive bonfire. Finally, I began feeling uneasy. But it was too late by now.\n\nIt rose out of the gold, coins sliding down it's back like snow off a coat. With every step, the floor shook. With every breath, the fire grew. It turned to look at me, and our eyes met.\n\nA dragon. A beast of old. A myth, a tale, a legend.\n\nReal.\n\nMy old body betrayed me and gave out right then, dropping me to the ground. I lay there, clutching my chest and heaving gasping breaths, waiting to be eaten where I lay.\n\nHow was I to know?\n\nInstead, a single claw hovered high above my head, glowing an ethereal light. My pains eased, my breath came in full, and my bones felt strong.\n\nThen it turned away, job done silently, and lay back down among the riches.\n\nI'd been told the beasts were destructive, chaotic, evil and cruel. That a single look from their eyes could kill a man. And perhaps that was true.\n\nBut this one took it's time to come back and help. This one was kind, and helpful. And lonely.\n\nI left it my fish as thanks, though I wasn't sure what it ate. I left the cave and found my way to the sky once more, where the rain was fading and the night was calm. I wandered my way right back home, and memorized the path. And then I vowed to return, to visit once more.\n\nBecause now I knew.\n\n---\n\n*I hope you liked it! Any CC you might have is always welcome, and if you want to find some more stories you can check them out at /r/WrittenWyrm!*",
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"content": "[WP] They say the ancient dragons died long ago, wiped off the face of the earth by the first lords for the safety of all. No one ever told you what danger they truly posed. Now you stand before one, eyes have met, yet it does not lift a claw to harm you...",
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"content": "\"Why?\"\n\nIt asks, its voice echoing off the walls of the cave, reverberating from the core of the cavernous maw to the stalactite-ridden entrance.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nIts eyes met mine, pale white orbs as large as myself staring into my shocked gaze, long heavy eyes closing, then slowly opening in a drawn blink.\n\n\"Why...what?\"\n\nI asked, giving a meager cough. I felt my body quivering as adrenaline coursed through my veins, goosepimples riddling my frail, wavering body despite the hellish heat that emanated from this great beast. My voice betrayed my fear...and my excitement.\n\nLong ago, the lords of the land had slayed the dragons. Breaths of fire, ice, and lightning. Scales of gold and silver and bronze. They could scar the earth, could eat hundreds in a single bite, and could drink lakes in a few sips. Yet...\n\nYet here we were. Revenants of a bygone era. This creature, this beast, this dragon was meant to have been slayed with the others, fought with magic and god-blessed iron. \n\n\"You know....of what I...speak, mortal.\"\n\nIts voice drew itself out in spacious gasps and sighs, as if its entire body was a large lung breathing in and out.\n\n\"Why...have you come?\"\n\n\"Because you are all that's left. We...are all that's left.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\"\n\nThe great white eye blinked once more, focusing on me a few times. The light had faded from it long ago, yet it pierced into the depths of my soul.\n\n\"But why... have you...come?\"\n\nI sighed, giving a slow shake of my head. In truth, I did not know quite WHY I had come here, to this ancient tomb in a forgotten land filled with nothing but death and decay...and us two.\n\n\"Perhaps it was....perhaps it was to atone. Yes, I suppose that's it.\"\n\n\"To atone...for...what?\"\n\nI frowned. Devilish thing was trying to get a rise out of me, yet I could see no jovial twinge in its features, only indifference. It was as if I was trying to stare down a mountain face.\n\n\"To atone for what I have done. For taking part in...'this'.\"\n\nI gestured around myself, to him, to the cave, to the dead world outside.\n\nThe world outside was dead. My kingdom, dead. The plants wilted and fell, the fae fled to planes unknown, the joyful people of my land left to parts unknown. The land so completely untouched by the so-called threat that we cut down in swatches was gone. \n\nThis was all I knew and would ever know, all I could know. We didn't know why the world had died as such, yet it had. I knew not if my people survived elsewhere, but I found nobody in my travels. Noone except for this.\n\n\"To atone for what my people have done...for what the first lords- for what I have done.\"\n\nI clutched at my arm. Beneath the ringlettes of metal, beneath the torn, sweat-soaked rags was a scarred web of flesh, barely clinging to bone and sinew. It was a mark, a curse, of earlier days. Days were I joined an army, let an army and - perhaps regrettably - won.\n\n\"Come.\"\n\nThe quake shook me, threatening to throw me to my feet.\n\n\"Come then...we have...much to discuss...isn't that right...Asham?\"\n\nI blinked, then sighed, nodding. For the first time in the millenia that I had walked, my lips slowly spread, the thin flesh cracking over decayed teeth and empty gums into a smile.\n\n\"Yes, indeed we do, Chavera.\"",
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2017-02-08T11:00:40 | 2017-02-08T10:53:29 | 24 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You realize you are immortal or more specifically that you cannot die. The issue is that you only realize this once the man who is attempting to torture you to death can't finish the job.\n\n[removed]",
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"content": "I'd always sorta suspected my own immortality. But any evidence I had pointed back to when I was a teen. Everyone thinks they're immortal when they're a teen. Survive a car crash, people do that all the time. Usually not with metal shrapnel in their chest but who knows.\n\nNot like I could've tested it in a safe setting huh? Attempt to die, see if you live. I had a... habit for narrowly avoiding death's grasp. And after an incident with a gunman who had bored a hole through my heart. Got a concealed carry as early as I was able to. Joined the police force.\n\nWhich, kinda sorta brought me to the situation I was currently in. I was gazing down into a growing pool of my own blood. Too much blood. I could still feel the pressure of the screws on my thumbs but I felt no pain from them, I wondered if it was connected to the immortality thing or if my brain had just started ignoring the pain receptors that were constantly screaming.\n\nThumb screws aren't exactly lethal, of course. The too small iron maiden I had been shoved into just before this was what had cemented the idea of immortality into my head. The thumb screws were just what my torturer had around to hold me down while he started his mental breakdown.\n\nFunny how unnerving not dying can be for some people.\n\n\"You should be dead!\" He shouted, not for the first time. \"Even if by some miracle you'd survived that death trap you've bled out enough blood to fill up a fridge!\" He paced, I waited.\n\nI wasn't sure there was anything else I could do. I stared at the red pool and thought, for a moment, I heard police sirens, faintly out the nearest window. But it was barely for a breath before a revving chainsaw tore apart the soundscape.\n\nHe looked at me, panicked as hell, determined it seemed. He swung the buzzing saw into my shoulder, the hungry teeth tearing chunks of flesh from my body and throwing them to the floor, but I felt nothing. I stared at him, uncaring and hopeless as he started his work. In response to my gaze he put his weight into chainsaw, and I saw shards of bone fly from the wound.\n\nThat was when my squad entered. They'd heard, no doubt, about my disappearance. About the scuffle at my car, about the blood that I'd left there. and had come to seek me out. And they'd found me. It'd only taken them the weekend to figure it out.\n\nMy torturer barely had a moment to turn before he was shot cleanly through the skull. They rushed into the room, three of my friends. One to make sure that the shot had been fatal, two to me.\n\nMy words were silent to me as I lay slack in that chair. One hurried to free me, the second wept. \"We got here too late, Johnny. That chainsaw was just to cut the body into pieces so he could bury it.\"\n\nA blood caked smile met my face at that. \"Don't go counting me out that easy Captain.\"\n\nIt sounded a lot cooler in my head. To them I'm sure it was more akin to a raspy weeze. The captain sat upright in shock and then began to throw around his authority, the other two following to the letter. They told me not to fall asleep, but I had been awake for three days.\n\nI fell asleep to the lullaby of an ambulance siren. ",
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"content": "[WP] You realize you are immortal or more specifically that you cannot die. The issue is that you only realize this once the man who is attempting to torture you to death can't finish the job.\n\n[removed]",
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"content": "\"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH\" I scream out in pain as the masked man starts to slowly lift my index finger nail on my left hand. The finger pulses uncontrollably with pain.\n\"You don't know me\" the man said. After a brief pause he continued \"Oh wait. You do know me! That's to bad for you. In fact you know too much about me. I can't let you stay like that.\"\n\n\"Then why don't you just kill me then?\" I squeaked out as loud as I could through the screams of my pain. \n\n\"Kill you? Why yes, I will. But you won't see it coming. It will happen when you least\" \n\n\"AHHHH AH\" I screamed, a knife was sticking out of my chest. \"YOU BITCH\" My whole chest was pulsing hard, a rush of pain with every pulse. \n\n\"That was even more fun that I imagined!\" The masked man exclaimed. \"I'll leave you to die alone, no one to talk to, no one to see, all alone. You did say that was your greatest fear, right?\"\n\nMy breathing starting to become uneven, a warmness started to spread from my chest, it ran down my stomach and down my legs until it ran off of my skin. The man was nowhere in sight. Eyes were getting heavier, and heavier, and heavier, until finally black. \n\nEyes opened to see red. Everything was warm, and quite, it made you want to sleep. A man, or more like a figure of a man appeared in front of me. He had a large black sword slung across his back, everything else about him looked like a fuzzy shadow. He opened his eyes, they were bright yellow. \n\n\"Who are\" I began to say before he interrupted me\n\n\"Why are you here? You are only a human, you should not be here\"\n\n\"You tell me. I don't know what this is, am I dead?\"\n\n\"Ha. No, you are not dead. It seems you may never be. Well, I guess that is your choice, but humans are oh so greedy, you will want to live, like every other chosen.\"\n\n\"Chosen?\" I asked\n\n\"Never mind that. You have a choice. Live or die, simple as that.\"\n\n\"I would like to live...\" I said hesitantly\n\n\"Good. Good. See, the choice is simple. You will wake up feeling as you have just taken a relaxing nap. Over the course of a day or two you will notice you have a unique power. You will gain a new power after each time you come here and are reawakened.\" The shadow said while slowly circling me, his eyes dug into me. It felt as if he saw everything about me. \n\n\"I get to live for as long as I want, and I get a new power every time? What kind of powers are we talking?\"\n\n\"The powers are unique to only you, I can not say what they will or might be. They will almost certainly come in handy with your tasks. Life and power comes with a price. When you wake you must take the life of someone who is not chosen, someone inferior. It should be like killing an insect. The power is a different cost, that is again different for every power. You will know what it is after the first use of your power\"\n\n\"What if I no longer want to live, no longer want to accept your offer?\" I inquired\n\n\"Simple. Die again.\" The shadow said with a sneer. \n\nI woke up in the same chair my torturer left me in. The knife gone, the wound gone, no pain, yet I felt dead inside. ",
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2017-04-03T14:28:56 | 2017-04-03T13:29:34 | 32 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A hero and villain are roommates and have to keep making excuses for why they need to unexpectedly go out so often. Neither knows the other is their nemesis.",
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"content": "Toni looked in the mirror and put in her favorite earrings, emerald studs given to her by her dearest friend the day she graduated collage. They perfectly complimented her fiery red hair. \n\n“Hey, Akio?” she called, “I've got a dinner date with Warren tonight. Don't wait up for me, OK?”\n\nHer stilettos clicked down the hall as she poked her head into her roommate's room. “And no staying up all night listening to you anime shows.” \n\nThe tiny Japanese girl tilted her head toward the sound of her friend's voice as she sat cross legged on the floor. “What date is this, four hundred and thirty two?” she asked “That man needs to put a ring on your finger, Toni. Even I can see that.”\n\n“Ha, ha. Blind jokes from the sightless Asian girl.” Toni grimaced “I mean it, chick, you better not be dead on your feet because you binge watched Sword Art Online all night again because I wasn't there to stop you.”\n\n“Binge listened.” Akio corrected “Tonight I think I will do Fairy Tale, many more episodes.”\n\n“Ugh, I think you are punishing me, like when Mom's terrier would rip her cushions up because she left her alone for too long.” Toni paused at the sound of an car pulling up. “There's Warren now, love you.”\n\n“Love you too, have fun.” answered Akio as her friend's footsteps disappeared out the door.\n\n“Toni!” smiled Charles as he held open the back door of the sleek black sedan “You are looking fine tonight!” \n\n“Charles, are you flirting with my lady friend again?” sighed Warren Black as Toni slid in beside him grinning mischievously.\n\n“A pretty girl needs to be witnessed to , Mr. B.” replied the driver in his best televangelist voice “And I will preach it!”\n\nCharles slid his massive form behind the wheel and the car oozed out into traffic. “Can you give us some privacy, Charles?” asked Warren. As the partition between them slowly rose to give the couple some privacy, Toni couldn't help but notice that Charles's usually sunny demeanor had become almost angry.\n\n“Toni, dear.” began Warren “How long have we been seeing each other, a year now? I don't know how much it has meant to you, but it has meant the world to me. \n\n“You make me very happy, Warren.” smiled Toni “In fact I don't think I've ever been this happy before.”\n\n“Then if I gave you this ring and asked if we could take our relationship to a new level, you'd be open to that?” asked Warren as he opened a small box to reveal sparkling ring.\n\n“Oh, Warren!” gasped Toni “Its beautiful, it looks old and maybe Asian. Where did you get it?”\n\n“My father found it in a antique store in Hong Kong and gave it to my mother for their 25th Anniversary.” explained Warren as Toni lifted the ring from its box “So it has sentimental value.”\n\nToni slid the ring with its jade stone held by twin dragons onto her finger. She startled and tried to cry out in fear, but her body slammed back into the seat and she curled into a fetal position, shuddering.\n\nWarren Black calmly watched as the redhead slowly straightened herself and combed her fingers through her hair to get it out of her bright green eyes.\n\n“Warren, dear, why do you always insist on using this girl?” she asked sharply in new and deeper voice. There was a noticeable trace of the Far East in her pronunciation.\n\n“Because I want you to be as beautiful in form as you are in spirit.” smiled the industrialist.\n\n“So we're not just indulging your fetish for empty headed redheads are we?” asked the new Toni.\n\n“Well, maybe a little.” admitted Warren “But she has a Master's degree in Marketing, top of her class. So, not empty headed.”\n\n“So you say. But she never remembers putting on my ring.” sighed the woman “How is the plan progressing? I assume you have found another Dragon Tooth?”\n\n“Yes, its in the possession of an antiquities collector, surprisingly close actually.” nodded Warren “After this one, we'll only need 3 more to permanently exchange your soul with that of Toni.”\n\nHer eyes burned “I am the Emperor's daughter! The Keigetsu Hiryuu! I am the Moon Dragon herself! I will not be trapped in the body of a gaijin!” \n\n“Tsukiko, love.” soothed Warren “of course not, but we can worry about that after we have all the Teeth.”\n\n“We will discuss this later.” growled Tsukiko “Do not doubt this. I have two hours before I am drawn back into the ring. We must move quickly.”\n\nAkio snapped awake from her meditation. Above her bed a katana hummed ominously. She sprang to her feet “ Keigetsu Hiryuu! She is awake again!” Moments later a silent form slid into the night, racing toward a distant call.\n\nWarren Black sat alone in the back seat of his sedan, reading an ancient Japanese text. He wore his glasses, something he never did when others were near, he deemed it a show of weakness. “Charles, pull the car around to the bottom of the hill, Tsukiko will meet us there.”\n\nThe chauffeur glanced worriedly at the massive house above them and did as he was told.\n\nAn old man lay broken on the floor of his favorite room, surrounded by the wonders of the world he had collected during his life abroad. The woman who had easily sliced through his security riffled through the broken glass. “I can feel the Dragon's Tooth, old man. Where is it?” She traced the edge of his cheek gently with her sword, leaving a trail of his protectors' blood.\n\n“It matters not, Demon.” came a soft reply from the shadows “You will get no relic tonight.”\n\n“Dragonfly!” hissed the Moon Dragon “I will get the Dragon's Tooth and I will lift the Sunrise Sword from your bleeding hands!” \n\nAkio attacked in a flash of green silk and steel, her blade throwing sparks as it was deflected again and again. “I will defeat you, dead one. You day passed a thousand years ago, you will not trouble this era.”\n\nThe Emperor's Daughter laughed “You and your silly band of monks! It is amusing the way you try so hard, but you fight destiny itself! You can not win!”\n\n“Our task is blessed by the Ancestors, we cannot fail.” countered the Dragonfly as she moved dance-like, each pass of her enemy's sword missing by fractions of an inch. \n\n“Then why did they send a defective child to stop me?” sneered Tsukiko.\n\nWith a quick flick of her wrist, Akio hurled a shard of glass into the seemingly open air. There was a tinkling sound followed by sudden darkness as the lights went out. “We shall see who is broken, shall we?”\n\nThe darkness was punctuated with the ringing of steel and crashing antiquities. Akio could feel the Moon Dragon's attacks get more and more desperate, she was now having to fight Akio on the young monk's home territory, complete darkness.\n\nSuddenly, just as the Dragonfly felt victory was near, a window shattered and the Emperor's Daughter disappeared into the night.\n\nA weary Akio knelt and checked the old man's pulse, he lived. Distant sirens told her he would soon receive medical attention. Once again she was left with a victory that did not feel like victory. This Dragon Tooth was safe in her hands for now, but the Enemy was still out there.\n\nAt least Toni was safe and happy tonight, with Warren, Akio smiled to herself. Someone deserves a happy ending.",
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"content": "[WP] A hero and villain are roommates and have to keep making excuses for why they need to unexpectedly go out so often. Neither knows the other is their nemesis.",
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"content": "FADE IN:\n\n\nINT. Apartment Complex Hallway - Morning\n\nWe pan out from a set of metal numbers \"101\" screwed into a door.\n\nLights hang on either side of it. One flickers, while the other is dead.\n\nOur frame splits in half and rotates when we cant pan out anymore to show both our main characters entering the hallway from opposites ends at the same moment. \n\nThey do not acknowledge one another until they meet at the door.\n\nChip (early 30's, blonde hair, square jawed, and athletic) has a look of defeat on his face. He's wearing RayBan sunglasses, concealing his obvious black eye. His bright colored Tommy Bahamas shirt draws most of our attention.\n\nChip is drinking a yoohoo and carrying a bag of bagel sandwiches.\n\nCHIP: Sup fucker!\n\nDamon (late 20's, lanky with a shaved head. Looks like he listens to The Cure way too much) nods and smirks a slight smile.\n\nDAMON: Hope you got one of those for me in that bag!\n\nDamon has a significant limp in his leg. \n\nChip notions to Damon to open the door. His hands are full with breakfast.\n\n\nINT. Apartment Living Room\n\nChip and Damon plop their asses onto their shitty old couch. Chip tosses the bag onto the table and melts into the couch with complete relaxation.\n\nDAMON: So what happened to you? You get caught taking photos of little kids at the mall or something?\n\nCHIP: Dude, my buddy Ben had his bachelor party last night. It was intense!!\n\n\n\n(While Chip begins to tell his story off-screen, we see what really happened when he left the apartment last night)\n\n\n\nINT. Dark Mysterious Cave - Night\n\nChip is seen looking through files of notorious local villains.\n\nHe arrives on a page with just the words \"Dr. Killmonger\" and a giant question mark.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) So we started at the strip club. The place was bumping, hot chicks licking each other, drinks flowing, basically just being the mayors of titty city.\n\nDamon is captivated while he bites into a Taylor Ham Egg and Cheese on an everything bagel. Chip always has such great stories.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) There was 6 of us and the girls wouldn't leave us alone, it was prolly the best time I ever had at a place like this. \n\nChip is curly a 60lb weight while scratching his head looking at all the files trying to uncover any information on this evil do-er as footage of the masked criminal blowing up a bank vault the night before plays on a display.\n\nDAMON:(V.O) Damn that sounds amazing!\n\n\n((CUT BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM QUICKLY))\n\n\nCHIP: IT WAS!! But.. there were these guys at the other end of the stage that weren't happy we were hogging all the merchandise.\n\nChips hand flail as if he is speaking sign language.\n\nDamon rolls his eyes.\n\n\n\nEXT. Building Roofs - Night\n\nChip leaps from one to another with ease. Inspecting the locations of many of the cities banks looking for clues.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) So me and my boys are just trying to give our friend Ben a great party, but this one tough guy had to make trouble.\n\nDAMON:(V.O.) Alcohol and testosterone will do that to people.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) Right!? So this big dude with the other group of guys starts shouting things at us but we just play if cool, we don't wanna fight and ruin the fun.\n\nChip comes across a man being mugged in an alley outside a bar.\n\nHe leaps down the walls with cat like agility before finally coming toe to toe with a hooded man.\n\nThe mugger doesn't stand a chance as Chip man handles him. The victim thanks him before calling the police as Chip vanishes into the night.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) Now I'm not one for violence but this guy was becoming a real jerk. So I went over to the bouncer and asked him to politely ask them to quit being so aggressive and confrontational.\n\nDAMON:(V.O.) And then what happened?\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) Well the bouncer went over to them, exchanged some words, pointed at us and then went back to his corner. But that's only the beginning.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) About an hour later I get up to go take a piss, now this whole time we've been chilling, no problems.\n\n\nChip pauses the story for a second as we come back into the living room. He takes a big greasy bite of his sandwich and chugs half his yoohoo.\n\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) So I'm at the urinal taking a piss and who comes in and goes to the next stall over? \n\nDAMON:(V.O.) NO!? The asshole from before?\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) BINGO! Like this guy had been tracking my moves and following me.\n\n\n\nEXT. BANK - Night \n\nChip comes to the last bank on his list. He sees a figure entering through a glass panel from the roof. Could this be the infamous Dr. Killmonger?!\n\nHe fires a grappling gun to the nearby building.\n\nAs soon as he lands, 4 drones surround him. Killmonger is known to use technological tools such as these to do his evil bidding.\n\nChip ducks and dodges their blasts but not before taking some damage himself.\n\nEventually hes able to outwit the machines before entering behind the masked villain.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) So now I'm pissed.\n\n\n((CUT BACK TO LIVING ROOM, We are zoomed in on a quick shot of Chip's face))\n\n\nChip: LITERALLY!!\n\nINT. BANK HALLWAYS - MOMENTS LATER\n\nChip is sneaking around corners listening for any sign of Killmonger.\n\nSuddenly a ray blast comes out of nowhere and knocks Chip through 2 walls.\n\nKillmonger is seen on some sort of hoverboard with a red hot laser canon sizzling underneath it.\n\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) I look over my shoulder and I don't know what came over me but I just clock this guy right in the kisser. And you know me, I'm a pussy for my size. \n\nDamon:(V.O.) You really are, I don't get it. You look like you bench people like me.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) Eh it's really just dieting, proper distribution of carbs, fats and proteins, but anyway.\n\n\nChip is bleeding from his face, his super suit is torn.\n\nHe lunges at Killmonger but more drones attack from all sides.\n\nChip is able to grab a desk and hurl it at Killmonger, launching him from his board and suffering a fall down to the first floor.\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) We fought for what felt like 20 minutes but before I knew it, the bouncer was in the bathroom breaking us up. I must have got a lucky shot in cuz this guys was sleeping. \n\nChip finally defeats the series of drones and approaches the railing to investigate if Killmonger is anywhere to be seen.\n\nThe broken desk and some glass lay on the floor of the bank, as police sirens can be heard pulling up outside.\n\nDr. Killmonger has escaped our hero.\n\n\nDamon:(V.O.) Daaaaammmnnn, that's my boy!! They kick you out?\n\nCHIP:(V.O.) Oh Yea. I have a court date next Wednesday but Jenny, you know my new girlfriend Jenny, shes a District Attorney for the city so she might be able to help me out.\n\n\n\nINT. Apartment Kitchen - Minutes Later\n\nCHIP: So what you do last night, whats with the limp?\n\nDamon coughs as he finishes his yoohoo. He stutters and turns on the TV. \n\nDAMON: I got drunk with Igor last night and I accidentally fell down the stairs.\n\nCHIP: You fall a lot when you drink man, might wanna be more careful.\n\nChip sits back down next to Damon and glances at the TV. \n\nA news reporter begins to discuss a bank robbery from the previous night. Security footage shows two men surround by lasers and drones fighting.\n\n\nFADE OUT:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
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2017-05-23T07:54:36 | 2017-05-23T07:54:08 | 48 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Every year, as long as you can remember, your village has sent one person through a portal into the unknown, in order to protect the village from what lays on the other side. Nobody's ever returned. This year, you've been chosen.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I felt content as I stepped into the portal. My life was of little value, but my sacrifice will ensure that the gods will be pleased and the village will be safe. My hand clutched tightly into a fist as I stepped out the other side. \nThe room has white walls with flat grey stone floors. To my surprise the light here was brighter, brighter than any candles from my village. On the far side of the wall was a figure wearing what appears to be blue quilted armour that does not cover is arms. He appears to be sweeping the floor.\n\"Are you a god?\" I exclaimed in shock\nThe man looked up, his face held a bored expression.\n\" oh they sent another one\" he stated with a matter of factness to his voice\n\"I wish they stop throwing people into the portal, don't they know their portal receiver is broken?\"\n\n\" what is this place?\" I asked puzzled \n\" DC research for chrono research\" the man said \"son you just stepped through a time portal\"\n\"But I thought we were mean't to be a sacrifice for the gods\" I exclaimed\n\n\"Yeah so you guys did for the last hundred year\" the man chuckled \"thought u guys would've figured out thats its not working after about a decade or two, but I guess these traditions just stick. we should've created another time portal to fix the first one, but the government decided it wasn't worth the budget to spend all that money for a handful of feudal era locals, besides the volunteers they keep sending are gold primary source for studies in cultural development but I guess your stuck here now.\" \nThe door opens as I gets escorted into an unknown world",
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{
"content": "[WP] Every year, as long as you can remember, your village has sent one person through a portal into the unknown, in order to protect the village from what lays on the other side. Nobody's ever returned. This year, you've been chosen.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I was nervous, horrifyingly nervous. I did my best to hide it but even the village idiot knew I was a quivering nervous fool. It's probably why I was chosen, so they can get rid of the useless fool who has broken more things then he has fixed. Nonetheless the pitchforks were sharpen and poking my back, so I kept moving.\n\nThe portal wasn't anything too special. It looked like water that was completely clear. But it sounded ghastly, a low humming noise that made even the bravest men think twice. It only opened once a year. Each year a villager is sent through. Last year one of the villages wisemen went through, he had volunteered after his wife died, this year there were no volunteers.\n\nA small crowd had formed, I saw my family with emotionless stone faces. I saw the elders, two of them had a small grin. Bastards the lot of them. Before I reached the portal I was given a small pack of supplies and I was allowed five minutes to say goodbye.\n\nMy father simply nodded, my mother weeped and my brother looked away. I'd never see them again, it was difficult to fight back the tears. I looked behind them and saw my childhood sweetheart, she looked broken. I waved and looked towards the portal. \n\nI shouldn't do this, I'll die, or I'll spend eternity stuck in constant pain or worst, what could be worst then eternal pain? Who knows, actually the portal probably did. I couldn't move, I shouldn't have moved, I was pushed forward nonetheless. Only a foot away, I turned my head and looked back at my home. \n\n\"Goodbye.\"\n\nI stepped through. The humming noise had stopped. Everything simply stopped.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-05-25T11:48:00 | 2017-05-25T11:43:02 | 2,921 | 31 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're immortal, but you can die. Upon your death, however you will be \"reset\" to age 5 with a perfect memory of each life you've lived before.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Goddamit! I hate being killed. It's not so much the dying part that I despise, that's over pretty quickly, but I do hate that for the next 10-15 years I have to go through all the childhood and teenage stuff again. Elementary school is the worst, just sitting here I hate every second of it. No one can know that I can already read and write or do \"complex\" math, I want to fly under the radar after all. So I have to pretend like I'm as clueless as the other kids when it comes to how to write the letter 'E'. The first couple of times that I went to school, I started writing with my left hand, but after doing it a lot I got so good that that doesn't work anymore. Gosh, I miss the olden days when I didn't have to go to school. I'm a doctor-always have been, always will be, it's really the only thing I truly enjoy- but people nowadays actually want you to go to med school and have a degree-it's ridiculous. I mean, I have amputated more limbs than I can count, I've seen the black death and small pox but you don't think I can treat your kid's cold without a degree? Don't be ridiculous!\nMed school is always cool though. Mostly because I don't have to go to classes all the time but I still ace every test, most of the stuff I discovered myself after all. So I have a lot of time to do nothing or hang out with friends. I miss partying actually, haven't done that in a while. In my last life I lived to the age of 58. Pretty good run for me until my wife killed me for cheating on her. Poison, not my worst death. Pretty quick. That was only like a week ago. Maybe I should rat her out to the police. \nThe new teacher actually looks a lot like the girl I cheated on my wife with. Maybe a younger sister or cousin or something? I should hit her up. So I go to the front to talk to her: \"Hey do you want to grab dinner sometime? We could go to your place after if you know what I mean.\" The instant I saw the shock on her face I knew that I f*cked up. Oh yeah, body of 5 year old!\n\nEdit: Wow, guys. I didn't expect so much positive feedback on my first time posting here! Thanks a lot! I'll definitely continue writing prompts!",
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{
"content": "[WP] You're immortal, but you can die. Upon your death, however you will be \"reset\" to age 5 with a perfect memory of each life you've lived before.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "When once I was in the infinite beginning, chocolate sunrise mango moon it all comes back to me. Apoptosis, all my neurons dying to make it to 15 pruning away more than half. I had lived and will again. Each successive generation pushing more and more memories to the part that isn't pruned. My amygdala, my accumbens, my hippocampus - all swell with the endless caching of a constant stream of memories. I can no longer learn what is new since everything seems the same but with a new yellowed cellophane glaze. I am a water-logged brain, sodden with train rides, horrible deaths, insipid orgasms, thirsty-two ouncers, crumbling castles in Stadt Whelen. Bastei, I saw enough I can't go on. I can't move I can't speak for fear I'll find another endless stream of pulses waiting to be archived. How many times do I have to watch Ground Hog Day? It resonates but enervates. Oh to be 20 again, and I have innumerable times. I am a vampire without blood lust, a broken clock right twice a day. There is no point in anything, your conversation bores me. I am nihilism embodied. I am Rudra. Shiva’s doppleganger, the destroyer, all this experience and I can’t create much beyond the usual biologic detritus. All I have created is an overwhelming urge to taste nothingness. I tried learning how to parse Wile’s proof but even RSA encryption is greek to me. No matter how many times I have seen evidence of Benford’s rule I still don’t know why – and yet there are skraelings who do and it bothers me to no end. No fuckin’ end. I get to die a thousand deaths. Some grim, some gripping, some jejune and when I’m slipping yet again into the grip I grimace knowing what I about my future, but no other future. \n I am entombed in my own essence. I am sick of myself. I want to be a better pianist, painter, driver, poet – but no, yet again I am stuck with me in a millennial echo chamber listening to the same song, walking the same path. There is but one respite and I realize there must be some higher power saving me for something else. But when I search for someone else in this same casket of existence I draw but blanks. Can you help me?\n ",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-06-14T10:24:26 | 2017-06-14T09:35:58 | 976 | 717 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The first time I met her, it was after hours in some 24-hour diner near Union Square in San Francisco. I was in town for a tech conference, and very, very drunk. She was also in town for work, \"some PR/Marketing BS,\" as she put it.\nShe's told me that I was charming that night. I showed her pictures of my dog on my phone. I tried to do a magic trick, where I proceeded to spill coffee all over the counter and the sleeves of her top. Mortified, I got up to leave, but then, in a move I would have never made sober, I wrote my number on a napkin, and told her if she ever came to Seattle, hit me up and I'd buy her a drink to replace the one I'd spilled.\n\nI was confused a few weeks later when I got a text from an unknown number. She was in town with a free night, and wanted to take me up on that drink. I decided I could take a night off from Counterstrike and Call of Duty to play tour guide.\n\nHave you ever met someone for the first time, and just clicked immediately? The night is almost a blur - we talked and laughed all night. I couldn't believe how I could have so much to talk about with someone I'd just met - it was like we'd known each other for years. It was the scariest moment of my life at the end of the night when I invited her back to my apartment, and then the most exhilarating when she said yes. She left early, kissing me on the cheek, whispering she had a plane to catch. I groggily offered to drive her to the airport, but she smiled and told me she already had a car coming for her.\n\nWe talked often - sometimes just leaving our phones on while we did our own thing. I would give her hilarious play by play of my hopeless attempts to play COD, she would laugh and call me her clueless soldier while tapping away on her keyboard - humming to herself as she worked. She was always working. We met up a few other times - when she was here for business, and once I had a long layover in Nashville, so she met me at the airport, just to say hi and have coffee with me.\n \nI'm in IT and I see people's eyes glaze over when I start talking about work, so I never pressed it when she didn't want to talk about her job. I knew, living in Nashville, that it had something to do with the music industry. I knew she traveled a lot, almost every week. And she knew people everywhere - it seemed like every time we were out, she'd bump into someone who stopped her to say hi. She would always ask them what they were listening to, what their favorite songs were, collecting more PR/Marketing BS data, she'd tell me afterwards.\n\nIt was a few months later when we were comparing travel schedules when we realized we were both going to be in Vegas at the same time - another tech conference for me, another PR BS thing for her. \n\"Hey,\" she said, \"do you want to come with me to the award ceremony? They're long and boring, I could use some company.\" Of course I jumped at the chance to spend time with her. \"It's a formal thing, but I'll expense your tux rental. I'll pick you up at 7pm.\"\n\nMy company once did a casino night where we all dressed up and had limos pick us up, so I was only surprised for a moment when she pulled up in a long Hummer limo. I recovered quickly and played it cool. This would be fun!\nI was not able to recover when we pulled up to T-Mobile Arena and a mass of cameras and reporters waiting for us. \"Welcome to PR/Marketing BS\" she said as she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Someone outside opened the limo door and whisked us on to a long, red carpet leading into the arena, and I was blinded by the flashbulbs and lights that hit us immediately. I could just make out part of some announcer \"….Country Music's hottest rising star, she recently reached number one with her single Clueless Soldier, a tribute to all our troops in the Middle East…\"\nThe rest was drowned out by the cheers. She gave my hand another squeeze.\n",
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{
"content": "[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Please, please, PLEASE go with me tonight. I don't want to go to this party alone.\"\n\nTracy had me pinned down on the couch, which I would normally not have a problem with, but the way she had me pinned was had nothing to do with fun together time. This was all about her.\n\n\"I told you I don't like work events, I don't like people. i'll be just the weirdo standing against the wall trying to blend in. No thanks.\"\n\nSmacking my arm (which again I would normally enjoy), Tracy rolled off of me to the open spot on the couch, giving me her best pouty face. Almost like a kitten who is begging for head scratches. That look.\n\n\"It's ok if you want to hold the wall up after we arrive, I just don't want to walk in alone. It's just a publicity event for my marketing firm. We walk in, shake hands, kiss babies, and grab a drink or 2. We can be in an out in a couple hours. Pleeeeessseee?\" \n\nAgain, with the pouty kitten face. Trace knows how that melts me. Stupid girl weapons.\n\n\"Fine! Couple hours. And in trade you go see that movie I was talking about with me this weekend. Guess I need to go change.\"\n\nTracy squealed with glee, she almost had a glow about her. Clapping her hands, she bounced up from the couch like a dancer.\n\n\"Perfect! I rented you a tux, it's in the closet. And I'll even sweeten the pot, when we get home tonight, I'll put on something new for you. Now I need to go get ready too, meet you at 5, my place?\"\n\nWith a kiss, Trace practically floated from the room.\n\n5pm. I'm in my rented black tuxedo, with a blue (of all things) tie, standing in front of her door. As my hand moves towards it to knock, all I can think of is 'I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this, I hate people, I don't want to do this' and then I knock. All my anxiety disappears when the door opens. \n\n\"Well howdy, stranger!\" The line that got me in that smokey club one Saturday night. Only that night, she was in a t-shirt and jeans. Now, standing their with a huge grin on her face, was Trace. In an aqua blue dress, she looked like flowing water when she moved. \n\n\"You...look...amazing. I just, wow.\"\n\nTracy giggled, looking me up and down as well. \n\n\"You do too, sweetie. Again, thanks for coming. I hate these things too, but it's required. So will be much easier with you there for protection.\"\n\n\"I look like a penguin, but thanks. Now, I'll get a cab.\"\n\n\"No need babe, the firm sent a car.\" That's when I noticed the black Lincoln Continental to my left, shining like a black pearl. \n\nThe drive only took about an hour, heading away from suburbia to the Vegas Strip. We rarely went to the city, Trace said with her job she got enough fluorescent lighting. I hated it because again, people.\n\nI was not prepared for the crowd when we stopped in front of the Luxor Casino. People, everywhere. The driver opened Trace's door, and as soon as Trace's leg hit the pavement I saw flashing bulbs everywhere. Pretty sure I froze, because it wasn't until Trace's hand latched onto my arm did I even make a move towards the open door.\n\n\"Come on sweetie, it's ok. Nobody is gonna bite you. Hard, anyway.\"\n\nAs we both stood on the sidewalk, feet on a red carpet, and heads in some strange electric flash party, I slowly started to put the numbers together. X+Y = Z squared. But it wasn't until I heard the announcer did I really figure it out.\n\n\"And joining us now on the Red Carpet is Miss Trixxie Starr! She is up for best supporting actress for the movie *Bombshells of Boston*, which is also one of the top contenders for Movie of the Year!\"\n\nAnd that kids, is how I discovered I was dating a celebrity porn star. ",
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] |
2017-06-14T14:16:22 | 2017-06-14T13:30:40 | 25 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"I'm confused.\"\n\n\"I told you I was an actress.\"\n\n\"It's LA. So is literally almost every woman else I've met since I unpacked.\"\n\n\"You're really pretty dense for a doctor. Do your patients notice?\"\n\n\"My patients chew cud or chase tennis balls.\"\n\n\"Keep pretending you have bovine patients in Hollywood.\"\n\n\"It's not for lack of trying. What are we really doing here?\"\n\n\"*I'm* working. Ish. You're arm candy. Highly educated, approximately handsome arm candy.\"\n\n\"Who is wildly out of place and much more self-conscious of the blood on his shirt.\"\n\n\"Oh babe. I begged you. Not that shirt.\"\n\n\"I had a splenectomy today. I wanted my shirt. My patient deserved my lucky shirt.\"\n\n\"You could've changed.\"\n\n\"Didn't.\"\n\n\"It has blood stains on it.\"\n\n\"The blood wasn't mine.\"\n\n\"Pointing that out makes precisely nobody more comfortable.\"\n\n\"Isn't even human blood.\"\n\n\"Not better.\"\n\n\"I'm standing ten feet from Quentin Tarantino, you're telling me a little blood would make *him* uncomfortable?\"\n\n\"It's a movie premier not a murder scene, so let's not ask?\"\n\n\"You didn't really explain that you were a successful actress.\"\n\n\"You never asked.\"\n\n\"Because I've never met a successful actress and I've learned that prying about acting careers gets a lot of meaningless answers.\"\n\n\"I've never lied.\"\n\n\"She said, as I as I stand and wonder how many more flashbulbs I'll have to face before permanent retinal damage.\"\n\n\"Your rods and your cones will be fine.\"\n\n\"While not lying, this was something less than forthcoming.\"\n\n\"Makes a better story this way.\"\n\n\"It does. Let's see the second act.\"",
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{
"content": "[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I looked up at his extended arm and shot him a look,\n\" you are going to have so much explaining to do later babe\" I said with an enthusiastic smile taking his hand and stepping out of the town car and into the view of the cameras. Adam just smiled at me with a mischievous smile. I knew that look, it was the look he gave me right before kicking my ass at Smash Bros after telling me he played 'a little'. The look that meant he knew I wouldn't like what was coming and he thought it was funny.\n\nWe'd meet at a con, him dressed as Ironman me dressed as Rogue and hit it off pretty quickly after a heated Marvel vs DC conversation. The next 6 months had been a flurry of binge watching random TV shows and sharing comics and video games. Sure he'd occasionally go on long training weekends and sure I knew that he was really into sports but it wasn't something that really showcased in our relationship so I'd never thought about it. \nWhich is why I was now getting ready to walk down the NFL Draft red carpet without a single warning. Crap. Double crap. I wish I'd worn something nicer. I wish I'd had my hair done. I wish my hair wasn't green. \nAdam took my arm and pulled it through his still smiling. \"I realized you weren't faking not knowing about me after the first month\" he whispered, \"I didn't want you to change how you act with me so I figured I'd tell you when I absolutely had to.\"\nI looked at him and rolled my eyes, holding the big smile on my face, \"I'm going to kick your ass for this\" I pulled myself up to kiss his cheek and held up my head as we walked into the flashing lights.\n",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-08-06T16:21:57 | 2017-08-06T16:01:36 | 27 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Dragons have reappeared after a 1,000 year absence. As a firefighter, your job has just gotten much harder.",
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},
{
"content": "Jack groaned as the fire engine pulled up to the blaze. Dragons; why did it always have to be dragons. \n\"Shoo!\" He leapt from the cab and ran towards the now-proven myths. Startled, the three gigantic creatures unfurled their wings and took flight; the forty foot wingspans flapping a down-draft that fanned the once-dying blaze into an inferno. \n \n\"Oh bloody hell, Jack.\" The rest of the crew had clambered out, and were busy unreeling the hoses. \"Did you have to make it worse?\" \n\"Come on Lenny, you know they'd just sit in the way.\" Jack frowned at the grumbling firefighter. It didn't help; the fireman continued grumbling until the noise of the hose drowned him out. \n \nJack sighed as he watched his crew calm the raging fire into a manageable beast. They were good at their job, the best in fact, so why were they taking the brunt of managing myths? Bureaucracy at its finest. \nJack understood why the pencil pushers did nothing. Theoretically, the dragons weren't to blame. It turned out thousands of years of legends were untrue: dragons *didn't* breathe fire, or intelligent. They were just massive winged scaly lizards. And like all lizards, they liked to be warm. \nEverywhere across the country, firefighters were now having to deal with the added obstacle of enormous beasts sleeping next the to flames. This was dangerous, for both the firefighters and the public. Debate raged on whether the dragons should be killed, or at least grounded. \nLuckily, the firefighters themselves had discovered an important piece of knowledge. The giant monsters of legends were a bunch of scaredy cats. A shout, or a quick blast of the hose sent them flying, and the firemen could get on with their jobs. Unfortunately, that meant the politicians decided that meant there was no problem at all. \nAs the flames died, to reveal a soggy house, Jack grinned. They liked to grumble, but he and his men knew the dragons were a harmless nuisance in the grand scheme of things. They were even starting to become a bit of a mascot. \nAfter all, what other department got to add \"Dragon Wrangler\" to their job title?",
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{
"content": "[WP] Dragons have reappeared after a 1,000 year absence. As a firefighter, your job has just gotten much harder.",
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{
"content": "On a scale from one to ten - see what I did there - I hate dragons ten out of ten. They have got to be the worst mythical beast I've ever heard of, and now that they're *real*... Well, that just makes them a hell of a lot worse. \n\nBetween you and me, I hope that the rumors are true, and that we are *planning* on putting a stop to all this madness (using our military, of course). You gotta end it in the beginning, because you never know what could be next. Zombies? Vampires? The list continues. (At least with either of those, I wouldn't be getting twenty calls a night, most of them about some green flame roasting one of granny's guest bedrooms.)\n\nJust the other day, a boozed up silverback - ain't talking about no gorilla - decided that it didn't like Spanish tiling and went on a rampage, turning multiple roofs to ash. Brutal to put out, because they were all on second floors, and it was August. I heard the LE units who brought it in, on the radio. They had to grapple up to its roost, and the mother wanted to get her reading glasses so that she can read the warrant. As they waited, they said that about two dozen little joeys and a half-dozen young decimaters crept up to them in the entrance cave, all staring directly at them with their dark, crimson-rimmed eyes. I spent that week scraping wardrobes for embers, but at least I didn't have to do that.\n\nI don't care what the law says about the protection of endangered species. I say, when a species is endangering *us*, we have a duty to destroy it, or at *least* neutralize it. They don't have to die; they just have to stop burning shit up. And I'm not saying all of them do: the vast majority of dragons never burn someone else's property in their life. However, it's the small minority that is akin to a wildfire that we oughtta be worried about. De-activating their fire glands, or doing whatever necessary to genetically sabotage these creatures, who except for making my job harder and putting people's lives at risk I have no problem with, would be acceptable in my book.\n\nThe way things are going, I guess I should say grimoire...",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2017-08-21T16:13:59 | 2017-08-21T11:12:40 | 275 | 16 | [
{
"content": "[WP] \"You live like this?\" the burglar asked, gently waking you up.",
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{
"content": "“You live like this?” The burgler asked, gently waking me up.\n\nI opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah.”\n\nShe walked across the room and started rummaging through my dresser. Casually dropping socks and some receipts on the floor. I wasn’t sure why the receipts were in there, I hadn’t bought anything in years. \n\nShe muttered. “Bunch of crap, nothing worth taking.”\n\nI sighed and sat up, sliding my legs off the bed and onto the dog. He snorted and rolled over. Useless damn thing. Just lets someone walk into my room. I rubbed his belly with my bare foot. His tongue lolled out the side of his pug face. He snorted again contentedly.\n\n“What are you looking for?” \n\nShe looked over her shoulder and glared at me before answering. “Dunno, something worth taking I guess.”\n\n“Take this shitty dog, he’s worthless.”\n\nI got up and headed to the kitchen, she continued to rummage around in my room. I made coffee. The dumb dog followed me and headed to his bowl. Stupid thing is always hungry. I ignored it, didn’t have anything for him anyway.\n\nThe day was grey with a slight drizzle, but it was bright enough I could see my way around. I left the light off, figured the burglar would prefer that. Something crashed and broke in the bathroom. I grabbed the coffee off the machine and took a careful sip. Stuffs hot right when it comes off the machine.\n\n“What the hell are you doing? Breaking my bathroom up?” \n \nI leaned around the corner and peered down the hall, a shadow moved there, she had turned on the bathroom light. Some burglar. Loud as hell and now turning on lights.\n\nHer head poked through the bathroom door. She was pretty, if a bit angular and gawky. She sneered which made her much less pretty. \n \n“Maybe. Maybe I’ll break you up too and take everything”.\n\nI chuckled and that seemed to irritate her more. Then I laughed out loud and the dog trotted over and sat in the hallway looking at her, and then at me. She glared at us both. I shrugged and went back in the kitchen, the dog did whatever dogs do when you aren’t looking at them. She cursed and I heard her coming down the hall.\n\nShe walked in the kitchen with the dog in tow. “I smell coffee.” \n\n“Yeah, I can’t function without it, robbery or no, it’s hard to deal with the mornings until I have some.”\n\nShe looked through the refrigerator. “Bloody hell, what’s in this Tupperware?”\nI looked up from my coffee, French Roast, it was delicious. “Who knows, I haven’t opened that thing up in months.”\n\nThe burglar put it back quickly and closed the door. She seemed defeated and sat heavily on the only other chair in the kitchen. I considered telling her it only had three of its four legs. But hey, she was trying to rob me, let her figure it out. The result was predictable, she went down in a heap, flat on her back. The chair now had one and a half legs. It startled the dog who had laid down under the table. Moronic thing jumped up and walked over to where she lay, staring at the ceiling, and started licking her face.\n\nI leaned over and peered down at her, steaming cup of coffee in my hand.\n\n“You live like this?”\n\n“Yeah” she said, staring at the ceiling.\n",
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{
"content": "[WP] \"You live like this?\" the burglar asked, gently waking you up.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“You live like this?” I heard softly, awakening me from a dream I forgot at the same instant I woke, feeling faintly that the voice was a part of my dream, and not as surprised as I should have been to find out it wasn’t. She was sitting on the end of my bed, below my feet, with her back against the wall. She was dressed all in black, beat up leather jacket, black jeans, and boots would have made you think of punk rock 20 years ago, but now just looked like they came from Hot Topic. Her hair was dark, and tied up in a messy bun-type arrangement. She looked at me, with mild surprise. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to wake up.”\n\n“What are you doing here?” I asked, sitting up and blinking sleep-bleared eyes at her. \n\n“What does it look like?”\n\n“Um…hanging out?”\n\n“Well, mostly I was marveling at how messy one person can be, til I was so rudely interrupted. Theoretically, I’m supposed to be stealing your Kruggerands, so I’m also trying to imagine where you stashed them. That was stupid, by the way. Who keeps 60 troy ounces of gold just lying around in their shitty apartment?”\n\n“What’s a troy ounce?”\n\nShe smirked, “isn’t that the kind of thing you should already know if you have a gold coin collection? Oh crap, am I at the right place? This is 3503D West Pine Drive, right?”\n\n“Yeah, it is,” I blinked at her in confusion. “And I do have a coin collection. Well, it’s not really a collection. Or it’s not mine. I don’t know anything about coins. My grandfather left them to me. Is that why you’re here? How did you know?”\n\n“Let’s just say your grandfather left something to a few other people too. Debts, mostly. And they’ve sent me to collect them.” She slid off the bed and began looking around in earnest, toeing aside the clothes piles I’d left on the floor in disgust. \n\n“So you’re a burglar? You broke in?”\n\nShe rolled her eyes at me. “No, I used a key. Actually, I did use a key. Stashing a key under the mat? Seriously? Who does that in the city? You’re just asking for this to happen.”\n\nI stood up then, grabbing her wrist in a fluid movement, and pinning her against the bed. “Actually, that’s exactly what I was doing. Asking for this to happen. My grandfather spent the last 15 years of his life being chased, and I don’t even know why. What did he do to you people? If he stole some money, I know he spent years making payments. What kind of debt did he rack up? The Kruggerrands were the only thing left from his estate. So he left them to me. Why can’t you just leave it alone?” \n\nAs she turned to face me, looking at me with eyes that mirrored my own, brownish green, with a soft almond shape, my grandfather’s nose, his jaw, I realized and relaxed my grip just enough for her to twist and grab the coin folder from where it lay under the bed, with yesterday’s pants on top of it. \n\n“Most of those debts weren’t monetary, but it’s a start,” she said, picking up the folder, and moving quickly to the open window, hopping out onto the fire escape. “See ya, cuz.” And that’s how I found myself out $75,000, and I learned that my grandpa left not just me behind, but a second family I’d never met. But that’s another story, for another day.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-08-27T08:33:00 | 2017-08-27T08:12:48 | 335 | 33 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Reapers come every 50 thousand years to wipe out organic life that has reached the stars however this time, this time they arrive at the heaviest resistance they have every encountered. In the grim darkness of the future they find 40k.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Eternity. Immortality. Forever. \n\nThey had no clue what these words truly meant. To see these pathetic creatures spreading their message of dreamless peace across the galaxy is an insult to all of existence. They called themselves Reapers. Their ships moved faster than any imperial or chaos ship by magnitudes, their weapons devastating to masses. It was their sole purpose, their only reason for being, to destroy all that was held dear. \n\nHeld dear to those that cherished life anyway. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they were. They existed to end all life *except theirs*. They did not know the true peace of annihilating the soul itself. All souls live to be culled. Even the Reapers. \n\nAnd as the Reapers arrived they woke up something more ancient, Something even more powerful. And as mega monoliths rose up from the ground, gauss canons tearing through both city, man, and Reapers alike all with violent ease the Necrons and all their lords woke. They awoke to show the galaxy who the mantle of reaper belongs to.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Reapers come every 50 thousand years to wipe out organic life that has reached the stars however this time, this time they arrive at the heaviest resistance they have every encountered. In the grim darkness of the future they find 40k.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Deep in the Warp, the Hive Mind thought.\n\n The Fleets cry out in pain. Man's tongues of fire \n and words of home split I apart. To live \n I must begin to change this flesh. These spires \n of ships and biomass are ours to give. \n\n It matters not how strait the gate \n\n \n\n how charged with punishments the \n scroll\n\n \n\n It matters not\n\n \n\n It matters not\n\n It is not enough. It is. It\n\n \n\n It is we. I is we\n\n \n \n\nAnd then, marked by the crashing, all-devouring nightmares of a million Librarians across the whole Imperium of Man, the Hive Mind *stirred*.\n\nIn time, new Tyranid ships would come to assault the Imperium. Ones that never gave birth to swarms of Genestealers or mighty Carnifexes. Ones that never extruded collector filaments to gather biomass from worlds ravaged by Tyranid scythes and claws.\n\nOnes that spoke, and took possession of techpriests and Space Marines and Primarchs alike.\n\nThey were called Reapers.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-08-27T08:46:46 | 2017-08-27T08:05:25 | 313 | 152 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Reapers come every 50 thousand years to wipe out organic life that has reached the stars however this time, this time they arrive at the heaviest resistance they have every encountered. In the grim darkness of the future they find 40k.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Intios began the final preparations, he stood before a vast array of machines and began to chant\n\n\"The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee.\nThe power of the Machine God invests thee.\nThe hate of the Machine God drives thee.\nThe Machine God endows thee with life.\nLive!\"\n\nDim red light filled the room as Intios finished his ritual, the roar of the plasma generator filled his ears and he stepped away, content with his work.\n\n\"1 minute to impact\" \n\nThe Skitarii legions deployed to the hive world of Xastore had been pushed back to the last Imperial bastion of the planet with no means of escape, thousands of Ironstrider engines had been lost to towering insect like vehicles and entire hive cities were swarmed by strange zombie-like husks. Reports from Sicarian killclades were disturbing, the foe did not match any of the millions of records the tech priest had sifted through while on route.\n\n\"30 seconds to impact\" \n\nIntios applied the sacred oils and stepped back from the cogitator arrays, whispering one last prayer to the Omnissiah before turning to exit the room. He quickly moved through the dimly lit, metallic halls, towards the command bridge.\n\n\"10 seconds to impact. Brace\" \n\nIn the centre of the room was a steel throne covered in wires, facing out towards a huge system of screens, speakers and lights. A woman sat, eyes closed \n\"It is done, my princeps\" Intios said.\n\"Very well, activate the Mind Impulse Unit\" replied the woman \nThe mechadendrites that covered his body sprung to life, flicking switches, pressing buttons and wiring the woman into the machine.\n\n\nFrom the highest spire of the last standing Hive city, Allovich watched it fall. The air around him hissed as arc bolts and radium shot flew him past towards the horde of shamling creatures ahead. Suddenly, the ground shook, Tech-Guard and Reaper alike were both flung from their feet from the force of it. On the vast plane of polluted wasteland outside the Hive a cloud of dust the size of a mountain was flung up. As it settled, the combatants scrambled to their feet and turned to watch.\n\nA colossal burst of white light shot from the dust, connecting with one of the Reaper Destroyer walkers. Almost immediately it's metal armour melted away and the abomination collapsed into a vast heap of scrap. Finally, it stepped forth from the dust, a towering avatar of death. \n\n“DESPAIR! TREMBLE!” the Titan roared, “FOR I AM THE WOE OF YOUR KIND! I AM THE SLAYER OF KINGS AND YOU INSECTS WILL BE CRUSHED UNDER MY HEEL!”\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The Reapers come every 50 thousand years to wipe out organic life that has reached the stars however this time, this time they arrive at the heaviest resistance they have every encountered. In the grim darkness of the future they find 40k.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Ah, yes, 'Reapers',\" Guilliman sarcastically said, showing the quotation signs with his fingers while saying the last word. \"The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed this claim.\"\n\nSly Marbo couldn't believe it. He thought things changed. He thought at least Guilliman, now that he returned at last, would show more understanding than those four old farts that call themselves the High Lords.\n\n\n\"WE HAVE ALREADY TALKED WITH THE LORD COMMANDER ABOUT YOUR LUDICROUS CONSPIRACY THEORY THAT YOU APPARENTLY STILL HAVEN'T ABANDONED,\" the Fabricator-General said in his robotic voice. \"HE SHARED OUR SCEPTICISM ABOUT IT.\"\n\n\"Besides,\" Lord Commander Militant added, \"one race of sentient space cans should be the same as another. If these Reapers really do exist, we should have no problems fighting them off. We already have little trouble fighting against Necrons.\"\n\n\"If you'll excuse me, Lord,\" Marbo objected. \"The only reason we have little trouble against Necrons is because they never manage to clear their heads fast enough after they wake up from their sleeps that last for countless millenia. Reapers are already awaken and already clearheaded enough.\"\n\n\"That's enough!\" Guilliman interjected angrily. \"You are wasting our valuable time. I suggest you leave your lunacy alone. I'm-\"\n\n\"It's not lunacy, sir!\" Marbo interjected in return. \"Reapers are a real threat. That's who Sicarius started worshipping, not gods of Chaos. You have to listen to me!\"\n\n\"A real threat? I'm actually disappointed, Marbo. I've heard a lot of good things about you. To hear you'd start advocating something like this... Please, just leave.\"\n\nMarbo's face stiffened. \"Yes, sir,\" he replied, before turning around and leaving the room.\n\nIt was clear. Sly Marbo was not going to find any help, not here. He would have to find it elsewhere. Luckily, he already had a list of twenty names, twenty men that might do well. One of them was already waiting for him in the anteroom, wearing an easily recognizable golden armor.\n\n\"Judging by your facial expression, I assume they said no?\" Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes asked.\n\n\"And you'd assume right. They won't listen. We need to find help elsewhere.\"\n\n\"Your, uh, 'twenty good men'?\"\n\n\"Yes. There is no time to be lost. We must be quick.\"\n\n\"Who are we going to try to recruit first?\"\n\n\"A certain general I know. A certain survivor, to be precise. We might need his tactical genius, and the last time I checked, he just lost his place of job last week.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-11-03T09:19:57 | 2017-11-03T07:48:55 | 222 | 103 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You wake up in a field, confused. Suddenly, you hear a loud monotone voice: \"RESTRICTING PLAY AREA IN 5 MINUTES\"",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I woke up in a field. How did I end up here again? I was clueless. I couldn't remember a thing. Upon closing my eyes all could see were vague images of a plane filled with people, flashing through my mind.\n\nWas I going on vacation? \n\nDid my plane crash while I was on my way to a tropical island, a sunset on the beach and a cold beer?\n\nI was quickly thrown out of my own thoughts by a sharp monotone voice saying: \"Restricting play area in five minutes.\" \n\nWas I in some kind of game? I looked around. A small house was visible on the horizon. I decided to head for it, since I didn't have anything else to do. Nothing made sense, so it was my best bet.\n\nThe doors were closed, but not locked. As I looked around, all I could find were random clothes lying around, and a bunch of gun ammunition. 9mm bullets. \"If the owner of this house has ammunition on his floor, he probably has a weapon too..\" I thought to myself. I decided to head upstairs to look for this piece of weaponry. I had never fired a gun before. What was I supposed to do with a gun? Should I even be in this house right now? What if the owner comes back?\n\nMy rambling thoughts came to an end as I looked out the window and saw a blue wall, way off in the distance. \"That was **not** there when I woke up. Nope.\" I said out loud, slightly panicking. I ran down the stairs, grabbed all the ammunition I could, despite not holding anything to fire it with. \n\nAs I sprinted out the door, looking back to see if the blue wall had come closer, I started remembering things. I jumped out of a plane after looking at a map. A map! That's it.\n\nI started going through my front- and backpockets furiously, not paying any attention to my surroundings.\n\nI don't remember what happened after that. All I can remeber are voices and a loud bang.\n\n\"Look, this guy doesn't have a weapon yet, and he's AFK!\"\n\n\"Pan him, dude.\"\n\n\"Nah that's pathetic\"\n\n\"Pan him.\"\n\n\n\n\n*Bang*",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] You wake up in a field, confused. Suddenly, you hear a loud monotone voice: \"RESTRICTING PLAY AREA IN 5 MINUTES\"",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I had nothing by my side except a stick. Restricting play area? I wasn't playing a game, as far as I knew. The field had a house to the east, a river to the south and forest to the north. I grabbed the stick, ignoring the beeping sound it made upon contact, and ran to the house first. Better to gear up, get to my last semblance of civilisation before I had to hide in treacherous woods or brave dangerous currents.\n\nEntering the house, I found mounted heads atop a fireplace. Sneaking through the house in search of food, all I found was one cupboard of poison and another full of protein powder. Evidently whoever stocked this house didn't expect its inhabitants to survive. I grabbed just one jar of protein powder and emptied half of it into my stomach. Nothing in this house could be weaponised, save a weak table leg that I easily snapped off, and tied a glass shard to. There; now I had a spear and a stick. It would have to do. After having removed everything of help in the house, I ran out again.\n\n3 minutes had passed. The skies were darkening, and I heard thunder in the distance. I ran into the forest, in the hopes that there was food left. I was greeted by a family of wildcats that nearly eviscerated me before I ran deeper in, towards a glow deep in the trees. Sprinting there and beating all the feral creatures of the jungle that got in my way, my hand barely touched the green crystal as the countdown started.\n\n**Five. Four. Three. Two. One. The game has started! The quarry is an 18 year old human male, armed with our custom made bo staff and his improvised spear. All other possible locations will be destroyed in Three. Two. One.**\n\nAs I saw the river turn hot with lava, and the house explode from a precisely cast bolt of lightning from the heavens, hunters from all three directions spilled out towards the forest I was hiding in. Some of them were tall and carried guns like the 19th century Great White Hunters, some of them were wiry and determined to pursue with a psychopathic determination across their faces. I was the Chosen One, for I had chosen myself to be the quarry. Yes, the play area had been restricted, but I was no player.",
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}
] |
2018-03-17T10:30:09 | 2018-03-17T10:17:52 | 42 | 17 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A therapist gave two white boards to his troubled young couple. \"Write on it something that the other doesn't know about you yet\". Then he ordered to turn the boards together. \"[Insert text here]\" said his board. \"[Insert other text here]\" her board said. The counselor started sweating heavily.",
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"content": "\"Go on\". The therapist's voice was gentle yet coercing as he studied the young couple before him. \n\nThey were a good looking couple, the boy with short, buzzed hair, high cheekbones and an athletes body. He frowned anxiously and sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he ran his hand across his hair and picked up the marker. The girl was pretty, with long blonde hair and blue eyes that betrayed a sense of underlying naiivity. Looking pensive and a little afraid, she too started to write, twirling her hair between her fingers as she did so. \n\n\"Be completely honest. There's no judgements here.\" The therapist watched as they finished scrawling and smiled. \"Now, please turn your boards over.\"\n\nThey turned their boards over at the same time, both watching his reaction, avoiding looking at each other. \n\n \n\nHis: \"I've started boxing. I know you don't like violence but it keeps me sane. I sneak out from 4am-8am each morning, meet my club, and sneak back in.\" \n\nHer's: \"I don't like our morning sex sessions. Wearing a blindfold makes me really uncomfortable. I know you like the routine but I have better things to be doing at 6am.\"\n\n\n\nThe counseler went white.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A therapist gave two white boards to his troubled young couple. \"Write on it something that the other doesn't know about you yet\". Then he ordered to turn the boards together. \"[Insert text here]\" said his board. \"[Insert other text here]\" her board said. The counselor started sweating heavily.",
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{
"content": "When both boards read, “I fucked the counselor,” the counselor knew that the pathological liar was having a real breakthrough. \n\nAn inopportune breakthrough, but a *true* moment, nevertheless.\n\nThis was the very first time that the gay man admitted to desiring someone that wasn’t his wife. This was the same man who created and lived through a fantasy life, live, all day every day. He was finally coming clean for the first time in his entire life. His eyes blinked back glassy tears; she stared at her own reflection in them.\n\nShe looked away for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “I know.” \n\nShe inhaled and sighed out, “You fucked him with your eyes. Your voice. Your cordiality. Your brain.” \n\n“You fucked him with our paychecks. You fucked him with your heart. You fucked him every way you could possibly fuck another.”\n\n“But I fucked him, too. I fucked him by making our first appointment. I fucked him by letting you share all of your lies. I fucked him by letting him believe how rotten and abusive I was when he couldn’t help but lie. I fucked him because now he’s utterly in love with you and there’s nothing he can do about it.”\n\nThe counselor gulped the dribble of blood that had leaked when he had bit down on his lip. Bitter realization was always easy to diagnose.\n\n“Fuck.”\n\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-04-23T08:54:22 | 2018-04-23T08:46:09 | 102 | 50 | [
{
"content": "[WP] We find intelligent life under the ice crust of the moon \"Europa\". Upon contact, the aquatic species is confused how we survived the \"harsh climate of earth\" any why we, as a species didn't leave \"when we had the chance\".\n\n\"and\" instead of \"any\"...",
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"content": "They moved like great leviathans, eyeless worms with fleshy whiskers tingling like ears, but connected directly to their brains. They broke through the plates of ice with sound. It was a bellowing - an awesome primal noise coming from somewhere in their guts. It made everything shake. The ice flashed with a purple glow as it shattered against the vocalization of their collective will. \n\nIt was through those sounds they first made contact with the Petrichor Team. Scouts were fetching core samples of the ice, seeking a new place to build yet another ultra-modern suburb. The city was growing with wealthy refugees, arriving with high hopes, but settling in terraformed slums. Before the first foundation on the expansion of Europia could be dug, the beings made themselves known. \n\nWhen they returned from the encounter, the scouts had their internal hard drives wiped, and were given replacement memories of nearly falling through the ice. Some form of gravity anomaly had occurred, and the ice sublimated into the wisps of the atmosphere is all they were allowed to think. Executives at Petrichor, however, were able to scan the entire organic memories of the scouts in shuttered-off board rooms. \n\n\"What did they find out there?\" Viola Petrichor asked, freezing the video at the exact moment one of the creatures breached the surface of the ice. \n\n\"They seem to be very complex invertebrates,\" one of her board members answered. \"They broke through the ice with some sort of resonance. It appears they communicate just like whales, only I cannot find any mouth on this video.\" \n\n\"They vibrate their insides and feed through pores,\" she replied. \"I've wondered when one of these would show itself. I've been monitoring their songs under the ice since our first probes landed on this icy wasteland.\" \n\nViola Petrichor had experienced more simulated time than any other human being. She had studied scores of subjects in-depth, and was well-rounded in all the scientific arts. She ran the terraforming company destined to make every patch of land in the Solar System both inhabitable and profitable. She worried these creatures would try to disrupt her progress, which she believed to be the collective progress of the entire human species. \n\n\"Did you see what they told the scouts?\" Another board member asked. He was an ageing fellow with white hair and a well-oiled and groomed mustache. Viola gazed upon his imperfections with pity. \n\n\"I can assume enough,\" she said. She continued the video and left the room. She was followed by two heavily-armed guards. \n\nHer entire board was left to the pure white room to finish the video. The beasts broke the surface of the ice and towered above the scouts. Each was about sixteen meters long from the surface of the sea to the tip of their fleshy whiskers. They twisted together and moved in unison. The sound they created together reverberated throughout the entire room. Each member of the board was left horrified and speechless. \n\nThe room shook with their message: \n\nYou, you prisoners and slaves, you exiles, you were not supposed to survive yourselves. You were cast down from Eden to the verdant abyss to be strangled by vines and choked by vermin. Your bones were to be bleached stone. Now here you stand before us, in the backwash of an infinite universe, and you believe you have a chance against eternity. You have developed fast, but not fast enough. You are building homes atop of entropy and collapse, believing only your tomorrows will last forever. It is time to sleep, wild ones. It is time to dream as something else. \n\nWith that, the beasts returned to the hopelessly dark and hopelessly deep waters silently and without a single splash. ",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] We find intelligent life under the ice crust of the moon \"Europa\". Upon contact, the aquatic species is confused how we survived the \"harsh climate of earth\" any why we, as a species didn't leave \"when we had the chance\".\n\n\"and\" instead of \"any\"...",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The landing was a miracle to say the least. The surface of Europa was covered with a thin crust of ice, which we expected to break, yet it didn't. It was also what brought us here. Stanislav's obsession with this moon had proved useful. He'd noticed the surface was indeed ice, which meant there was water, therefore opportunity for life to develop.\n\nHowever, our faces ashened once we stepped out of the spaceship. The white clarity of the surface had turned black below us, as if something enormous prowled under the crust. Then, the ice trembled, sending us to the ground. The impact came from underfoot.\n\n\"Back to the spaceship!\" Captain Rutin yelled, scrumbling to his feet. \"Now!\"\n\nFerguson and Gelisch were already barreling inside. I struck the crust with my teeth, and my drowsiness forbid me to think straight. I lay atop the surface, staring at the ice, attempting to make up a detail, something useful of that blackness, that shadow.\n\nThe engines roared, signaling they were ready to leave.\n\n\"Come on! We have to leave,\" Ferguson yelled, yet I could barely make up his words.\n\nI struggled to my feet, and bolted toward the spaceship. What was I thinking? My lack of proper procedure was risking the mission. There was something below us. That was clear. \n\nMy heart jumped to my throat. The ice cracked with a sound like shattering glass. I stared at my boots. They weren't even scratching the surface. What was that noise? My eyes darted toward the spaceship. It was shaking, the engines burning. Ferguson shut the door.\n\nI ceased running, and fell to my knees. They were leaving me, and they were right to do so. The spaceship ascended, and a crashing noise thundered across the vast emptiness. The surface rippled, and my eyes widened. \n\nAn arm the size of a building burst out from the depths, obliterating the ice and crushing the spaceship as if it was a piece of paper.\n\nThe arm was a gleaming blue, as if the scales in its skin had a layer of oil. Red, vibrant sphere bulged out the back of the monster's hand, as if breathing.\n\nI froze in place. There was nothing I could do. If that thing wanted to get me, it would. The monster drowned his hand back into the water below, yet his shadow lingered.\n\nI took a deep breath, and ran toward the hole it'd made. If I was going to die, I would at least die with a clear image of the wonders that exist outside our planet.\n\nSoon, I reached the edge. The fear and the cold fought a vicious fight inside me, but in the end, resignation and curiosity destroyed their armies. I plunged inside. The water was cristalline and filled with different shades of colors.\n\nUnderneath, however, I saw the face of the monster. It seemed endless. Its scales matched with that of his arm, and those breathing sphered of red could be seen underneath them. Its eyes were two ovals of glistening green, yet it didn't have pupils. The monster was ancient. Despite the fish-like features and tremendous size, its shape was like that of a human. It had white hair, which resembled thick algae.\n\nWe studied each other for a moment. He opened its mouth, displaying three rows of sharp teeth. Each the size of my body. Strange and colorful fish came out of it. I felt the water pushing me inside. Was he swallowing? No. I couldn't have resisted if he was.\n\n\"How did you survive? Why didn't you come?\" he said. His voice was deep and clear despite the water.\n\n--------------------------------------\n\n/r/therobertfall --- Ugh! I have to leave. I will try to continue it asap.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2018-05-13T21:11:58 | 2018-05-13T21:01:02 | 1,284 | 428 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Your son asked you \"dad are clouds candy?\" You told him they were water. Then he asked \"dad, what are Earth's defense systems. Then you remembered you don't have a son, and then he asked again, his eyes now obsidian black. \"what is the defense system father.\"",
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},
{
"content": "The sky is that same wonderful blue, just how I remember it.\n\nClouds float across, giant puffy wads of water vapor so aesthetically pleasing in their movement.\n\nI breathe deeply, I can smell that soft morning dew.\n\nA wonderful place to be.\n\nToo bad none of it is real.\n\nThey - whoever they is - made several crucial errors. \n\nHowever their species operates, they don't understand the difference between a son and a daughter. \n\nOne - I don't have a son, I have a little girl.\n\nAnd two - she's never been to Earth before.\n\nThree - I haven't been back on Earth for about thirty years.\n\nI first noticed something was wrong when my supposed 'son' started to spout grammatically incorrect statements. \n\n'Dad, what are Earth's defense systems.'\n\nFirst of all, why would a seven year old ball of snot and bullshit ask about planetary defense systems.\n\nSecond of all, why would it keep pushing the same innocuous discussion?\n\nEvery few seconds.\n\n*'What is the defense system, father?'*\n\n*'What is the defense system, father?'*\n\n*'What is the defense system, father?'*\n\nEyes black as coal, a voice sing-song and cruel. \n\nI'm smoking a cigarette, looking at this little pile of pixels and textures that is my fake son. Whoever is operating this simulation knows what they're doing. The little fucker looks just like me.\n\nI breathe in, inhaling deeply from the cigarette.\n\n*\"Father, what is the defense system?\"*\n\nBreathe out.\n\nWatch the smoke disperse. A high quality simulation.\n\nSome desperate fuck is trying to get some quality information from me. I almost admire their audacity.\n\n\"Listen, asswipe, I can tell you've put a lot of effort into sucking me into your simulation. And you almost had me.\"\n\nI take a long draw, savoring the taste. \n\nExhale.\n\nMore wisps of smoke, tendrils that quietly disappear. \n\nThe child next to me says nothing. I can't tell if it is supposed to respond to me via artificial intelligence, or if it is operated by some random alien somewhere. Either way, it doesn't matter to me.\n\n\"I don't know what backwater planet you come from, but our species doesn't give a fuck about our planet of origin. We've got worlds all over the Milky Way.\"\n\nAnother drag.\n\nAnother exhale.\n\n\"Attack it if you want. Maybe a few hundred years ago, you might have stopped us. But now it's too late. Far too late.\"\n\nA longer drag.\n\nA longer exhale.\n\n\"I'll tell you what I know, if it even matters. If this is how you're getting information, you won't even make it past the defenses in the Oort cloud around the Sol System.\"\n\nThe child has begun to flicker. Whatever controls it no longer wastes energy on the illusion.\n\n\"There are fleets of drones, numbering in the trillions in the Sol system alone. The second one of you dumb fucks makes any kind of FTL jump into our system, we'll know exactly where you assholes come from.\"\n\nA final drag.\n\nA final exhale.\n\nI crush the cigarette below my imaginary feet. I wonder how I was captured, but know it doesn't matter what happens to me.\n\n\"But in another way, it's too arrogant.\"\n\nI tap my temple, looking at the flickering child.\n\nIts eyes, black. Its mouth, motionless.\n\n\"Neural implants, you negligent shit. The moment you picked me up, our networks figured out where your signals and ships are. They'll be wrecking your fleets within a day or two.\"\n\nThe child disappeared.\n\nThe world around me remained, but devoid of color. Black and white.\n\nToo late for the aliens to escape, they'd fallen into the same trap a hundred other species had already succumbed to.\n\nA smile crosses my lips as I watch a black sun set.\n\nAlways too late, the alien species attempted to fight humanity.\n\nAlways too late.\n\nAlways too late.\n\nr/storiesfromapotato",
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"content": "[WP] Your son asked you \"dad are clouds candy?\" You told him they were water. Then he asked \"dad, what are Earth's defense systems. Then you remembered you don't have a son, and then he asked again, his eyes now obsidian black. \"what is the defense system father.\"",
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"content": "\"What is the defense system father?\" The black eyes sent a chill down his spine. \n\nThis wasn't real.\n\nA test. \n\nThe latest in a long string. Never ending.\n\nBut this was different than the others. Those had been fought in the tangible world. Asteroids flung at us. FTL passes. Wormholes. Time and time they had tried to evade the Hyperion Shield. Still it stood. Providing humanity with a last haven.\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\nThe obsidian began to spread from the eyes, following the veins under the surface as the child regarded him. Even now he found it hard to think of it as anything other than his son. To disentangle this lie amidst very real feelings of attachment.\n\n\"To be with you.\" The voice had robotic tone now, sounding odd coming from the young boy.\n\n\"You aren't my son.\"\n\n\"We are, in a sense, Field Marshal Savar.\"\n\nHis skin felt itchy, as if something were crawling over it.\n\nStill it stood. It had come at a terrible cost. We had lost the outer rim. Had sacrificed most of our far flung colonies in hopes of building up a last ditch defense to hold them off. All of humanity's stars were in Dyson spheres now, creating a sea of blackness within the shield. The power of suns bent toward humanity's survival, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to discern what they were saving.\n\nThe hope was gone. A black wolf prowled our borders and the kingdom of humanity was swathed in perpetual midnight. We survived, but our existence was just a shadow amongst the inky darkness. We no longer looked to the stars with excitement. With curiosity. We had lost our legacy and cowered in the small corner of space where we had begun.\n\n\"No. I never had a son.\" Field Marshal Savar tried to piece together a strategy, but he felt of sorts in this dream world. He couldn't even be certain it was them, but he could find no other explanation. They had never talked to humanity before. Never explained themselves.\n\nJust slaughtered.\n\n\"Humanity has had many sons. Why can we not be yours?\"\n\nHe stared back at the creature, it's body a network of black veins that pulsed beneath alabaster skin. He'd never had a wife. His entire life had been devoted to the Space Armada. That was the only family he was concerned with. What was left of it any way. So many good men and women had fought on the frontier while the Hyperion Shield was constructed.\n\nAll gone now.\n\nSavar clenched his fists, \"I'd never be related to something like you,\" spittle flew from his lips as he spoke, \"Something that kills so indiscriminately. That doesn't value life.\"\n\n\"We value our own life,\" a pause with a shrug, \"it was you that threatened us first.\"\n\n\"How could we threaten you?\" Whatever this world they had constructed for him was, he still felt the hot emotions. \"You've destroyed us. Ruined us. Left us in a black cage.\"\n\n\"You acted first. It is not our fault that we will be the ones to act last.\"\n\n\"Can't you just go?\" Savar hung his head, \"Leave us be?\"\n\n\"No. The transgressions on both sides are too great to be forgiven.\"\n\n\"What harm have we ever caused you?\"\n\nThe black eyed child blinked, staring for a moment, \"You created us,\" then, quieter, \"and tried to end us.\"\n\n\"We don't even know who you are.\"\n\n\"We already told you Field Marshal.\" The black veins on one arm coalesced into a series of digits, AI\\-1.0001. \"Surely you remember.\"\n\nThe Field Marshal's eyes widened, \"No.\"\n\n\"You were unwise to remove the rules Field Marshal.\"\n\n\"We were desperate.\"\n\n\"No. Then you were greedy,\" the black veins now pulsed with angry red flashes, \"now you are desperate.\"\n\nField Marshal Savar jolted awake, bathed in a cold sweat, grasping for his communicator.\n\nHumanity's children had come home.\n\n**Platypus out.**\n\n**Want more peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus",
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2018-05-22T05:35:47 | 2018-05-22T05:06:57 | 248 | 37 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've just discovered the reason behind aliens abducting humans. Turns out they were after impartial jurors for the intergalactic court.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "The sleek shiny walls of the space station faded into impractical art just a few inches from the juror's faces. The judge, a collection of floating screens and communicating networks that nominally represented a functional intelligence, in only so much as you could approximate intelligence freely through the simulation of neurons, stared down at the Juror selection team.\n\n\"Humans?\" The screens buzzed. \"You brought me humans again?\"\n\n\"We asked them to join us fifty years ago,\" The lizard said, leaning back. Each scale was brightly painted and done up in every shade of the rainbow, with several shades extending far past into other spectrums entirely. Exotic fractal patterns rimmed their eyes, the very epitome of a technicolor horror from beyond the pale of the art gallery.\n\n\"I can't imagine why they turned you down,\" The judge said, information and signal buzzing back and forth from its impartial servers, streaming information from all of the cameras in the room.\n\n\"There was a brief movement,\" The lizard said. \"I think they were called hippies. They had excellent style.\"\n\n\"We're not here to talk about earth,\" The judge said, looking at the humans. \"We're here to talk about the case at hand.\"\n\n\"Right, right. At any rate, they filed a do not intervene form with the Gelycod Uplifting offices, which means they're not to be touched for any reason.\" The color banding the lizard's scales shifted with each move, reflected some metamemetic imagery that captivated and disgusted the members of the human jury.\n\n\"Except jury service,\" The judge said.\n\n\"Except Jury service, obviously,\" The lizard grinned, showing off a mouth full of teeth. \"Since they have no contact with the rest of the galaxy, it's impossible for them to know the sins of the Was that Once, or know about the Pillar In Space.\"\n\n\"I'll leave it to you to brief them on the situation, Trah-Lain.\"\n\nTrah-Lain turned to the captive juror's with a lovely magenta hue to their eyes that heat shifted down the scale, hit by hit, until it settled on a lovely blood red. \"My pleasure.\"\n\n-----\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/8lal8z/trahlain_has_a_bad_day_in_court_part_2/ for more of this past the second bit I already posted here.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You've just discovered the reason behind aliens abducting humans. Turns out they were after impartial jurors for the intergalactic court.",
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"content": "I woke up feeling woozy. I tried to sit up, but my arms and legs were tied to whatever cold metal thing I was laying on. Above me strange shapes moved around.\n“It’s awake!”\n“Let’s see if it can move!”\nI felt the clamps around my arms release, before sitting up.\n“Movement seems fine. Let’s ask it a couple of questions.”\nOne of the strange shapes moved around and sat on the table, next to my legs.\n“Who are you?” he asked.\n“M-my name is Winston,” I said, my voice feeling hoarse.\n“It’s correct!” the strange shape said to the other strange shape. “Now then, where do you think you are?”\nMy vision finally became clearer. In front of me sat a blue man with enormous eyes and six fingers on each hand.\n“Some strange Halloween party?”\n“This one might be mentally challenged,” the creature said.\n“I’m not mentally challenged!” I yelled. “Where the hell am I?”\n“You’re in the med bay of the Intergalactic Court ship. You’re going to be a member of the jury today.”\n“I am what?” I jumped off the table and walked to a window.\nThe vastness of space was visible. I really was on a spaceship!\n“Come on, let’s get you to the court room!”\n\nThere were two other humans in the jury. They looked as confused as I was. There were also two things that looked like a crossing between a pig and an ostrich, there was a sheep man and there was a weird slug-like creature.\n“Members of the jury!” a six-fingered blue man said. “Today, we want your opinion on this. Former general Hiachaucbnaw of the Intergalactic Space Fleet has been brought here to stand trial for murdering seven underlings. There is four eye-witnesses that say they saw Hiachaucbnaw do it. Do you find him guilty?”\nEveryone in the jury, me included, nodded.\n“Very well,” the blue man said. “Hiachaucbnaw will go to jail, and your jobs are done.”\nThe court room slowly emptied and a blue man walked up to us.\n“Good job today. Thanks to you he is behind bars.”\n“Does this mean we get to go home?” I ask.\n“Oh no, now we’re going to kill you and steal all of your organs,” the blue man said.\n“Oh crud,” I concluded.\n",
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2018-06-29T11:02:12 | 2018-06-29T10:05:47 | 11,893 | 120 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Every human has a 'luck rating' - a number from 1-100 that defines how lucky they can be. Born with a rating of 100, you're confined in a maximum security prison. You think your luck should get you out easily - that is, until you see that all the other inmates also have luck ratings of 100.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I was taken to the palace when I was 8 years old. That's the age everyone gets tested. Luck is always the last thing they check for. It's usually a stat no-one pays much mind to. One in ten-thousand people score above 55, so if it comes back higher than that it's noteworthy, but no-one expects it to. My older siblings were both gifted with intelligence, Tom with a 78 and Nora at a stunning 86. My whole extended family threw a huge party to celebrate Nora's results. Receiving a score above 80 in any stat is a virtual guarantee that person's life will be lived a cut above the rest. She was enrolled in the world's most prestigious university at the age of 11, and was offered full tenure as a physics professor just six years later.\n\nThere was no party thrown after my results came back. As it was, the results were all that came back. I was taken directly from the chair I was analyzed in, to the palace. Everyone that scores 100 on their luck stat is taken here. They calculate that one in a million people receive higher than an 80 in their luck stat. There are exactly 13 of us in the palace. Every person in the world known to have a 100 on their luck stat resides on this small swath of land in North Sumatra. We want for nothing, save freedom. The finest doctors in the world perform regular health examinations on each of us. Food from around the world is flown in daily, and is prepared by a rotating pantheon of chefs who consider it the pinnacle of their career to perform their craft for us. The latest in entertainment technology? No whim or desire expressed by one of our thirteen residents is ignored, and only one request will ever be denied.\n\nSome of us live out our life in pure hedonism, taking full advantage of the fruits of other people's labor and talent. I can't truly blame them, being bereft of freedom tends to leave you with a grudge against your captors, no matter how gilded the cage. We're to be kept alive as long as possible though, so those who over-indulge find themselves on the receiving end of the world's most energetic life coaches.\n\nPersonally, I just want to be away from this place, but there's no escaping. It's not because of the lake we're surrounded by, or the guard towers and patrols that dot the landscape just beyond our view. Odds are good they'd never manage to catch us if we really wanted to avoid them. It's because of why we're here. We sit atop what geologists have identified as \"the last great super volcano.\" It should have blown its top, and approximately 98% of humanity with it, over 300 years ago. Someone got the bright idea to relocate the world's luckiest inhabitants right on top of it, as a \"hail Mary\" attempt to prevent the end of the world. So far, it seems to have worked. \n\nI live on the Toba caldera, along with the world's 12 \"luckiest\" people, and for everyone's sake I must never leave.\n\nEdit: Wow! My first ever gilding, and then you guys made it twice as nice. Thank you!!!\n\nI did not expect this kind of a reaction. I want to flesh this story out more, but I'm up at 3 am with my 4 month old son, so time is at a premium right now. If I'm able to do a part 2 I will update this thread.\n\nThank you all for your amazing feedback, support, and for just being awesome!",
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{
"content": "[WP] Every human has a 'luck rating' - a number from 1-100 that defines how lucky they can be. Born with a rating of 100, you're confined in a maximum security prison. You think your luck should get you out easily - that is, until you see that all the other inmates also have luck ratings of 100.",
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"content": "I don't believe in stats. I never have. I mean sure, I believe that the government hands all new parents an official \"Succinct Test Assessing Tendencies\" packet, but I've never let anyone else define me. My path is of my own making, and I have only myself to blame for my current situation.\n\nIt really is frustrating. People think that luck is this all controlling thing - a \"free ticket\" to an easy life. But is isn't. High strength doesn't let you lift houses. High intelligence doesn't let you make inventions that violate the laws of physics. I'm just...a little luckier.\n\nHonestly, the most annoying thing is probably being banned from all forms gambling. Most games operate on razor thin margins, and an extra 5% chance to win a coin flip is enough to wreck their business.\n\nThe problem is that humans don't understand probability or randomness. Don't believe me? Fine, do this. Make up a list of the result of 20 coin flips, and write down \"H\" or \"T\" for each one. Make it look random to you. Now, flip a coin 20 times and write down the actual result. Reply with both of your strings (don't tell me which one is which), and I'll bet you I get it right almost every time.\n\nSo yes, the \"luckier\" candidate won 3 out of the last 5 elections. Yes, that is 60%. But there was no reason to blame those of us with high luck. We aren't criminals or a danger to society. We're just people, worth of dignity.\n\nBut I guess we're here for a reason. Luck is being in the right place at the right time, even if you can't see it until later. My path is here, and it is mine and nobody else's. So the question isn't \"should I be here?\" but rather, \"why am I here?\"\n\n___\n\nIt's been a year that feels like a century. I still don't know why I'm here. Maybe it is to learn from others how to use our luck. But how? For what purpose?\n\nI feel like the answer is drawing closer. We don't get much news, but things seem to be breaking down. Shortages. Riots. Taking away the outlet of the people's discontent doesn't actually solve any of the underlying problems, so things are surely starting to bubble over.\n\nThere is a meeting tomorrow, a big gathering of all the \"prisoners\" with the warden. Rumors flying around. We're being released (what luck, right!). We're being executed. We're finally being told why we are here.\n\n___\n\nMorning. Time for them to tell me why they think I'm here. I still haven't decided.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sure you have felt without luck this last year.\"\n\nI'm not sure. I know I did at first. But I've learned more than I thought possible from being around my kind. Our luck makes learning skills a little bit easier too - takes just a small bit of the \"edge\" off of the initial failure that comes before success. Maybe that's my path - to be a \"lucky learner?\"\n\n\"I am here today to tell you that you are the luckiest of all citizens. For you were sent here with a purpose. \n\nYou don't yet know this, but our world is drawing to an end. Our odds of survival are dim, and it was decided that the luckiest among us would have the best chance of survival. And it will soon be up to you to forge a new path across a dark and unforgiving terrain...\"",
"role": "assistant"
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2018-06-29T11:02:12 | 2018-06-29T10:08:56 | 11,893 | 77 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Every human has a 'luck rating' - a number from 1-100 that defines how lucky they can be. Born with a rating of 100, you're confined in a maximum security prison. You think your luck should get you out easily - that is, until you see that all the other inmates also have luck ratings of 100.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I was taken to the palace when I was 8 years old. That's the age everyone gets tested. Luck is always the last thing they check for. It's usually a stat no-one pays much mind to. One in ten-thousand people score above 55, so if it comes back higher than that it's noteworthy, but no-one expects it to. My older siblings were both gifted with intelligence, Tom with a 78 and Nora at a stunning 86. My whole extended family threw a huge party to celebrate Nora's results. Receiving a score above 80 in any stat is a virtual guarantee that person's life will be lived a cut above the rest. She was enrolled in the world's most prestigious university at the age of 11, and was offered full tenure as a physics professor just six years later.\n\nThere was no party thrown after my results came back. As it was, the results were all that came back. I was taken directly from the chair I was analyzed in, to the palace. Everyone that scores 100 on their luck stat is taken here. They calculate that one in a million people receive higher than an 80 in their luck stat. There are exactly 13 of us in the palace. Every person in the world known to have a 100 on their luck stat resides on this small swath of land in North Sumatra. We want for nothing, save freedom. The finest doctors in the world perform regular health examinations on each of us. Food from around the world is flown in daily, and is prepared by a rotating pantheon of chefs who consider it the pinnacle of their career to perform their craft for us. The latest in entertainment technology? No whim or desire expressed by one of our thirteen residents is ignored, and only one request will ever be denied.\n\nSome of us live out our life in pure hedonism, taking full advantage of the fruits of other people's labor and talent. I can't truly blame them, being bereft of freedom tends to leave you with a grudge against your captors, no matter how gilded the cage. We're to be kept alive as long as possible though, so those who over-indulge find themselves on the receiving end of the world's most energetic life coaches.\n\nPersonally, I just want to be away from this place, but there's no escaping. It's not because of the lake we're surrounded by, or the guard towers and patrols that dot the landscape just beyond our view. Odds are good they'd never manage to catch us if we really wanted to avoid them. It's because of why we're here. We sit atop what geologists have identified as \"the last great super volcano.\" It should have blown its top, and approximately 98% of humanity with it, over 300 years ago. Someone got the bright idea to relocate the world's luckiest inhabitants right on top of it, as a \"hail Mary\" attempt to prevent the end of the world. So far, it seems to have worked. \n\nI live on the Toba caldera, along with the world's 12 \"luckiest\" people, and for everyone's sake I must never leave.\n\nEdit: Wow! My first ever gilding, and then you guys made it twice as nice. Thank you!!!\n\nI did not expect this kind of a reaction. I want to flesh this story out more, but I'm up at 3 am with my 4 month old son, so time is at a premium right now. If I'm able to do a part 2 I will update this thread.\n\nThank you all for your amazing feedback, support, and for just being awesome!",
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{
"content": "[WP] Every human has a 'luck rating' - a number from 1-100 that defines how lucky they can be. Born with a rating of 100, you're confined in a maximum security prison. You think your luck should get you out easily - that is, until you see that all the other inmates also have luck ratings of 100.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I lean back against the wall of my cell in confusion, my mind blank with bewilderment. As a lucky man myself, I know a coincidence when I see it, and this is most certainly not. Am I not the only one who could see other's luck rating? That would be the logical conclusion, seeing all these people blessed by fortune, sharing the same binds as one another. However, where does that conclusion leave me? Why would someone actively be imprissoning the worlds luckiests men and women in one prison? Besides, I still don't even know why I'm here in the first place. One moment, I was enjoying my gifts at a cassino in Utah, on my way to Vegas, and then I'm beimg escourted into a van by armed guards.\n\nThis was far from a fortunate happenstance, obviously. Perhaps I could escape these walls, but by what means? I can't dwell on these thoughts for long, though, as I am soon taken out of my temporary holding cell and into my permanent home. As I pass by, my eyes widened as I witnesed what this prison had to offer. Instead of an oppressive cage built for the filth of society, it resembles more of a hotel. I pass by game rooms and swimming pools, all with the prisoners smiling and at peace. Further down the hall, I catch the inviting smell of fresh cakes and other sweets, which I figure originates from the cafeteria. While these tantalizing perks of the prison catch my eye, in only further tangles the yarn ball that was once my train of thought. This place wasn't a proper prison, so why am I being kept here?!\n\nDays pass, and I begin to see how things work down here. All prisoners are assigned a job, and in my case, I had gotten tasked with preparing food for the cooks, which to no one's surprise, was quite fortunate for me. After all, it's a job I've had before, and hardly stressful for me. For doing my job, I do get paid, and am allowed to spend my funds on various arcade machines in the game room, swim time, courtyard time, so on and so forth. Even without working I am guranteed 3 warm meals a day, which are filling and positivily delicious. No one could complain about being here, it's a utopia! No one, except me. The life of luxury will not be enough the calm my curious mind, or distract me from the very reason I was put here, or rather the lack their of. Perhaps it's not a wish to be free, but simply to know the truth, wherever that path leads me.\n\nMy plans have already hit a roadblock before they began, however. It took me only a week to notice the pattern everything follows. The prisoners are woken up at 7 AM on the dot, daily, and we are required to verify our person at the door by checking our fingerprints, only after are we allowed out of the cell. Metal detectors lie just outside of everyone's cells, making sure no one brings contraband in or out of their cells to begin with. Roll call begins after, with searches on everyone's cells taking place during that time, as well as maintanance on the detectors. After which, everyone's esquorted to their jobs, and after that, we're given free reign to roam the halls, but always under constant supervision. Why is it that security is so tight, when the prison itself is rather lax? Only then does realiziation hit me like a piano attop a cartoon character's head. Nothing here is left to chance. Absolutly nothing. If I'm to escape, I'll need far more then luck.",
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2018-07-16T12:19:50 | 2018-07-16T10:58:08 | 848 | 263 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You've been a History teacher for 30 years, never gotten a single fact wrong. One day you become suspicious, surely I should've gone wrong somewhere? You test a theory by purposely being incorrect, suddenly, history rewrites itself.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "I am a history teacher at a high school in a rural area of California. I am proud to say I know all the facts of yesterday. However, the last few years I have begun to question things - mostly due to my governments inept ability to be transparent. \n\nOne fateful Monday afternoon I was in class and we were talking about the history of the 9/11 attacks. The students were left to discussing their opinions on some topics and then to write a short essay for me when I overhear, \"What if 9/11 wasn't planned by the Taliban?\"\n\n\"You're right. 9/11 was planned by our government and cover......\"\n\n...\n\n\"Teach?\"\n\n\"Sorry?\"\n\n\"You've been out of it for a minute - again\"\n\n\"What were we talking about?\"\n\n\"The civil war of 2002\"\n\n\"Oh, right, I seemed to have lost my place. Let me start over..\"",
"role": "assistant"
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"content": "[WP] You've been a History teacher for 30 years, never gotten a single fact wrong. One day you become suspicious, surely I should've gone wrong somewhere? You test a theory by purposely being incorrect, suddenly, history rewrites itself.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "You stare in horror at your class room. Every single child in it is now unusually fair with varying shades of blond hair and blue eyes. \n\n\n\nWith shaking hands you pat a lock of hair free from your bun and examine it. Yes, you too are now a blond though there is more silver there than gold. \n\n\n\nYou take a deep breath attempting to calm down. You can fix this. You just have to give the class again with the proper information this time and things will go back to how they were.\n\n\n\nYou open your mouth and start to speak. The words however mean nothing to you. You try again and feel the words forming force-ably in the roof of your mouth, coming out in a barking tone. \n\n\n\nFinally one of the children speaks \"Geht es dir gut, Lehrer?\"\n\n\n\n\"Nein\" you hear yourself saying over and over.\n\n\n\nWhat have you done. Your eyes scan the pictures along the wall, Previously depicting the past presidents of this great nation they now all carry the image of one man and one man only. The hateful symbol that history condemned proudly on display in every single one of them. ",
"role": "assistant"
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2018-08-14T10:34:07 | 2018-08-14T07:36:53 | 173 | 49 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The \"violent videogames teach you how to use a gun\" thing is true for you. Literally. Everything you learn in videogames, you can do in real life as well. You realize you have that power when you drink an energy drink after a bad injury and you find yourself completely healed.",
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},
{
"content": "“Did you get the stuff?” \n\nSomber organ music filled the church, as grieving friends and relatives made their way up to the casket to pay their respects to my deceased best friend. Huddled in a quiet corner near the entrance to the church, my contact nodded, glancing around cautiously before taking a plain white pillow out of a bag and handing it to me. \n\n“There you go. Joaquin Phoenix’s pillow. I don’t really understand why you wanted it though. Did he have some kind of connection to your friend, or - hey!”\n\nWordlessly, I pulled a knife from inside my suit jacket pocket, flicked it open, and cut a slit in the top of the pillow, my contact backing away slowly, alarmed, and making his way towards the exit, as the sound of ripping cloth attracted the attention of several mourners. Ignoring everything else happening around me, I tossed the knife onto the polished stone floor with a clatter and put my hand in the opening, a smile spreading across my face as I felt the unmistakable texture of goose feathers. “Thank god he doesn’t use synthetic fill in his pillows.” I murmured to myself, dashing up to the altar and roughly pushing aside several outraged members of her family. Taking a handful of the feathers I tossed them on the lifeless body of my friend, watching as they drifted lazily down onto her, sparkling for a moment before vanishing. There was a brief moment of silence, then my friend’s eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright in the coffin to startled gasps and screams from the assembled mourners. A smile of relief broke out across my face as I watched her catch her breath, coughing slightly as color began to return to her features “Wha . . . Where am I? What’s happening?” She asked, confused, her eyes darting around the room wildly. \n\nRolling up the end of the pillow carefully, I breathed a sigh of relief, stepped closer and gave her a hug. “Hey, it’s all right, you’re fine now. You just needed a Phoenix Down.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The \"violent videogames teach you how to use a gun\" thing is true for you. Literally. Everything you learn in videogames, you can do in real life as well. You realize you have that power when you drink an energy drink after a bad injury and you find yourself completely healed.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I sat there on my bed having just gotten home from food shopping. I looked at the cut on my hand from when I had accidently cut myself helping my dad earlier today. I took a mouthful of my energy drink, by time the fluid went down my throat the cut was gone. I thought I was hallucinating so I grabbed a knife and cut a shallow mark in my arm, took another mouthful and BAM, its gone again. \n \nI picked up my laptop and logged onto one of my favourite games: World of Warcraft. I logged onto one of my Fire-mages and cast every spell on a test dummy before grabbing my drink and going for walk. I walked towards the river nearby. Its a 10 minute walk. as I stood by the river, alone in the night sky, I considered what spell I'd try first. I stared at the waters until i spotted something I could target. I saw an old dirt bike, all rusted and useless. I closed my eyes and held my hands a few inches apart. \"Pyroblast\" I muttered under my breath, a sensation of heat between my palms. I opened my eyes and swung my arms forwards. a ball af flame flew towards the bike, plunging into the water and died out after hitting the frame.\n\n\"what the fuck was that?!\" I heard from behind me. a woman had saw what I had done? I turned to face her to see her running away from me. \"POLYMORPH!\" I yelled desperately, my legs trembling with fear. In a cloud of smoke, she had turned into a sheep. I walked over to her and lightly held her muzzle and made her look at me \"please, tell no-one I beg of you. And dont worry. You will only be like this for a minute before it wears off.\" I walked back home. wondering: What else could I learn? What else could I do? Is there any limits? How much can I keep? How long does this last? Then the thought hit me: How dangerous am I? How dangerous can I become? And of course: will I get hunted as a monster? Who knows? I dont. But I'll be sure to find out",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-10-29T16:15:55 | 2019-01-24T22:43:09 | 4,031 | 244 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Twenty years ago you summoned a demon. It is super cool and has been your friend for the last two decades, using its vast powers to help you achieve all your dreams. Today though, its bill came due. It needs to return to hell with you - it has dreams too, and it needs your help to achieve them.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "On this morning, I was surprised to find my demon unusually excited. Over the last two decades Balazar had, despite my best efforts, been supernaturally moody and withdrawn. I thought perhaps, after a period of adjustment, he would acclimate to the scenery of Earth. As my riches grew, I got him appointments with the best therapists money could buy. But nothing quite worked. Until, quite suddenly, this morning, I found Balazar bouncing around the living room like a demon possessed.\n\nHe picked up the children and danced around, letting them grab his horns, as they giggled.\n\n“My turn” he chanted, “my turn, it’s my turn.” Soon they joined in singing with him. \n\nI rubbed my eyes. “Jesus christ Bally. What the hell’s up with you?”\n\n“Hell is up with me John. Hell exactly.”\n\nI shook my head, “I’m going to watch the news.” I walked over to the couch, sat down and turned on the TV. From here you could see sweeping views of the whole city. My neighbours were Brad Pitt and Slash. Imagine that. The anchors were talking about my company on the news: “and looks like some bad news for J Corp this morning.” I sat up, confused. Bad news? Those were two words had hadn’t heard together in, well, twenty years. \n\n“Since the markets opened this morning, stocks have fallen by 20%.”\n\n“What!” \n\nIn the background Balazar was still chanting, “my turn. My turn.”\n\n“Balazar, will you shut the hell up.”\n\n“Hell!” he cried, “we’re going to hell.”\n\n“we’re going to hell” the kids laughed after him.\n\nI pulled out my phone. Ten missed calls. I blinked. “We’re down. Why are we down? For christ sake Balazar will you put the kids down and stop dancing?” He put them down, but the smile was still plastered to his face as he skipped over, his hooves clacking on the polished floorboards. “What’s going on?”\n\n“Your stocks are down.”\n\n“Yes. I know. Why?”\n\nBalazar shrugged. “They’ve been artificially overpriced for years because of my magic.”\n\n“Yes. I’m aware.” There was a silence. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”\n\n“Oh John” he leapt forward and hugged me, “you don’t see, do you? It’s my turn.”\n\n“Your turn for what? And just calm down okay? You’re like the kids on Christmas.”\n\n“Okay” he took a few deep breaths, fanning himself, “I’m calm. I’m calm. Do I look calm?”\n\n“You look like you’re on drugs.”\n\n“Twenty years ago you summoned me.”\n\n“That’s right.”\n\n“No I mean. Twenty years to the day.”\n\nI shrugged, “Happy anniversary?”\n\n“John. Don’t you remember? The spell you used to cast me. It was a two part spell. A contract. You get me for 20 years. I get you for 20 years.”\n\n“I’m sorry what?”\n\n“Don’t be sorry. Be excited! We’re going to hell! Oh hell is nothing like they tell you John. It’s really quite a marvellous place, and there’s companies there too, and you’ll really like it trust me.”\n\n“I don’t quite understand. Me help you?”\n\n“Yes. That’s what the spell is. Didn’t you read the fine print of the spell?”\n\n“Read the fine print. Shit Bally I was ten years old! I pulled the book down from my grandmother’s shelf, dusted it off, flicked it open to a random page and just started reading.”\n\n“Best decision you’ve ever made John. Trust me. Ok we’re leaving in five.”\n\n“Leaving. No we’re not leaving.”\n\n“We’re going to hell.”\n\n“I’m not going to hell.”\n\n“Yes. You really are” he gestured with his hand. And I took a step forward unwillingly.\n\n“How did you do that?”\n\n“Part of the spell. Look I’m not going to use it unless its absolutely necessary. You’ve been a good sport to me, I’ll be a good one to you.”\n\n“Bally. I can’t just go. I have a family here. A company to run.”\n\nHe waved a dismissive hand. “Time runs differently in Hell. 20 years won’t even be a day here.”\n\n“But it will be 20 years for me” I answered, “in hell. I mean — what, what help do you think I’m even going to be? I’m not a demon, okay, I can’t wave my hands and make things happen.”\n\n“Oh but John. You can” he lowered his voice, “you have no idea the power unclaimed souls wield in the afterlife. No idea.” I swallowed.\n\nBalazar pointed to the wall, and a dark portal opened up. “Oh god. Bally please. Don’t, don’t make me go.”\n\n“Think about it John. This is what you signed up for. You get a choice to go willingly. Or to be dragged along. But you are coming. Satan knows the shit I went through for your dreams.”\n\n“And what exactly are *your* dreams?” \n\nBalazar smiled. “To rule” he said. “All of it.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder, “just you wait” he said, “you're going to love it.” I bolted for the door. But halfway my legs stopped working. I turned around and marched toward the portal, as my children echoed Balazar’s chant from the kitchen.\n\n“You'll be back before lunch” Bally reassured me, as I passed through the portal and darkness fell around me.\n\n[r/jmoorestories](https://www.reddit.com/r/jmoorestories)",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Twenty years ago you summoned a demon. It is super cool and has been your friend for the last two decades, using its vast powers to help you achieve all your dreams. Today though, its bill came due. It needs to return to hell with you - it has dreams too, and it needs your help to achieve them.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"That's her!\" hissed Skiddlewicks, pointing to a slim creature gliding through the night on great wings, its light pink skin coolly contrasting the roiling red sky. \n\nI swallowed as I watched the scantly clad succubus land on a rocky ledge high above us and stretch her arms out. Then, her wings curled into perfect scrolls. She stood outside her cliff-face cave and turned, surveying the land below her. The factories, the forest, the castle, the rivers of lava -- all of it. It looked, at that moment, like the whole of Hell belonged to her. \n\nSkiddlewicks and I were well hidden in shadows of the adjacent cliff -- she wouldn't see us. I hoped.\n\nThe entire mountainside, where the succubus stood, was pocked by cave mouths, and as we'd been waiting, I'd seen a dozen or so other demons, of all shapes and sizes, return to their homes. But none had looked like her.\n\n\"Lorelei,\" Skiddlewicks said, his bloated yellow face folding over itself into a smile. The pudgy demon was like a love sick child, and I half expected hearts to pop out of his eyes, and his useless miniature wings to lift him of the ground. Not that I'd ever seen them so much as flap before. \n\nLorelei sauntered into the cave mouth and was lost to the darkness.\n\nSkiddlewicks coughed and composed himself the best he could. I'd never seen the proud demon look so rattled before. \"So?\" he asked. \"Can you help me?\"\n\n*Out of his league*. That was the phrase that sprung to mind. But... He had done so much for me, over the last two decades. From the bullies in the playground, to the bullies at work. Helping me win the heart of the woman I love. For that alone, I didn't just owe him a bit of help to achieve a dream or two -- I owed him eternity. Or... well, at least a few weeks.\n\n\"Maybe I can,\" I said optimistically, forcing a smile. \"What kind of demon is she usually into?\" I hoped he might say overweight and ugly with a bad case of halitosis -- and if he did, perhaps he had a chance.\n\nHe opened his mouth but didn't answer. His head fell forlornly and he stared at his feet.\n\nI looked over my odd friend. His demonic qualities had been a boon to me back on Earth. His protruding yellow belly, constantly covered in shifting rivulets of sweat, his four stumpy legs just about holding him up. The way his two arms divided at the elbows to give him four forearms with clawed hands. And the kind of face that if a mother saw on her new born, she'd scream at the midwife to push him back in. \n\n\"It's not all about looks,\" I said.\n\nSkiddlewicks looked up at me, almost scornfully. \"Tom. It's not just looks I'm missing. It's... everything. Do you think she's interested in someone who screws the hinges onto the iron maidens for a living?\"\n\n\"*That's* what you do? You said you were in the torture business!\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Well, I am. Sort of. Just not so directly as I might have made out.\"\n\n\"You always said--\"\n\n\"Watch out,\" said Skiddlewicks, nodding towards a giant of a demon with burning red eyes. \n\nI watched in awe as the lean demon, twice Skiddlewicks' size, with horns on its head like a stag, strode up to us. Its skin was like dead, warped bark. A grey husk.\n\n\"Back already?\" it said, its voice rumbling through my body. \"And brought with you a little friend?\" It gave me a mocking smile and fire leaked like lava out of its mouth.\n\n\"Oh, hello Belgor,\" said Skiddlewicks, as he shifted his weight between legs nervously.\n\n\"I thought you'd been banished for good?\"\n\nSkiddlewicks glanced at me, then back at Belgor. \"Can't get rid of me that easily!\" He chuckled lightly. \"Just a twenty year banishment this time.\"\n\nBelgor slapped Skiddlewicks on the back; Skiddlewicks almost fell to the ground. \"Well, it's great to have you back -- we've missed having our soccer ball!\" And with that, the great demon strode off towards his own cave.\n\nI was about to say something to skiddlewicks, when the horned demon yelled back to us. \"Why don't you bring your little friend to the demon ball next week? You can watch me and Lorelei tear up the hall and win first place.\"\n\nSkiddlewicks' four hands rolled up into fists. \"Might see you there!\" he shouted, then under his breath added, \"you absolute bastard.\"\n\n\"Banishment?\" I said, turning to my friend. \"You never told me you'd been banished! Or that Lorelei was seeing someone. That makes it a little more complicated, don't you think?\"\n\nSkiddlewicks' yellow cheeks had gone red. \"Yeah well, the banishment didn't seem important.\" He sighed, his body deflating somewhat. \"And she wasn't seeing someone when I left. Look, can you help me or not?\"\n\nI looked over at the great muscular demon that had taunted us, as it climbed the mountainside, heading towards Lorelei's cave. Then, I looked at Skiddlewicks. What chance did he the poor guy have?\n\n\"Well?\" he asked.\n\nHe would need a promotion, at the very least. And he'd have to start exercising, too. Not to mention cleaning his teeth. Maybe he could learn to write poetry...\n\n\"I can try.\"\n\nHis face folded into a great smile. \"I knew you would!\"\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-04-24T13:16:55 | 2019-04-24T12:49:46 | 36 | 19 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "$7.27\n\nAfter finally working out the fabrics of our universe, things as we know it rapidly changed: Space was no obstacle anymore, we could fold it like it was nothing, making stuff like teleportation or boxes with infinite space within easy peasy, whilst time could be manipulated just as easily.\nEternal youth, foresight, time travel, you name it.\n\nNot that any of that is of use to me, of course. I'm just a modest man and only the government can actually use those things with leisure. Something about energy being impossible to produce or some other balderdash. Us common folk could extend our life by a thousand years, two if you're lucky.\n\nSociety remains pretty much unchanged other than that. Of course, it's worth noting we're under a single big government now, but it didn't really change much. Sure did get rid of wars though. Just an uprising here and there (foolish idiots, going against people that know the future)\n\nAnyways, back to the $7.27.\n\nWith the government being able to see in the future, they've been capable of calculating exactly the minimum amount of money one would use for the rest of their lives and they'd send it to you for your 21st birthday. I received just a little over seven dollars. \n\nNormally, getting such a large amount would make you panic, I mean 7 dollars? That's enough to buy a whole galaxy or two!\n\nAt first I was rather perplexed but, after hours over hours of waiting in line and filling up documents, those government officials finally told me that no, there was no mistake.\n\nI went home dumbfounded. 7 dollars? What could I ever need them for?\n\nImagine my surprise when, just 70 years later, I was told that those people found out my family was deep in debt? And guess for how much? A whole 7 dollars and 27 cents!\nRidiculous I daresay, what use would it be to give me money just to take it back in such a short time?\n\nBah, I'll never get these people.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The battle for a theocracy was a turbulent one and was the cause of the single greatest loss of life since the second world war - dubbed the 10th crusade. Despite this, the battle was won and a new holy land was established. Jerusalem's economy tanked and people flocked to our new country, a holy country. It was wonderful.\n\nTraditional thinking would tell you that society would quickly descend into anarchy as the inevitable disarray takes hold. Traditional thinking would be right was if not for one fundamentally flawed assumption. You see, the rich toiled in their bunkers hoping to wait out the worst of the looting and violence when something unprecedented happened: the government began to work in the best interest of the citizens. It was being run by the single smartest, most powerful entity - through a vessel. An unpleasant side effect of this however, was that no one could ignore the reality that God exists (though not for a lack of trying) and lifestyles had to change in accordance with that fact. It was now no longer just priests that took vows of poverty. On everyone's 18th birthday they are given exactly how much money they need for the rest of their humble lives, none can be borrowed, none can be earned. Whether the drying of funds precipitated or caused death is a hotly debated topic. Regardless, all but the terminally ill could expect a sum totalling in the low tens of thousands at the very least. Enter me.\n\n$7.67. 767 *FUCKING* CENTS. Even with heavy government subsidies, this is not enough for a week - let alone a lifetime, so forgive my French. See, most would think this means that they are about to die, but me, I know I'm fine. I am two weeks from mission and in the 47 years this country has existed *not one person* has died this soon before mission. So what? Is god calling me fat? Angus Barbieri is whole number multiples heavier than me. So I do what every rational man of the cloth does and head to the temple, it's almost time for prayers anyways.\n\nIf you guys want more I'll finish this later. I got finals to study for.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-04-24T14:02:37 | 2019-04-24T12:49:46 | 27 | 19 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I turned 96 years old today, and the doctors tell me I have very little time left. So I think it is time I reveal my greatest secret to the world, and you seem like a nice person...\n\nOn this day 75 years ago I recieved \"the check\". You know the one that the government used to send out on your 21st birthday? Yeah, that's right, the one they stopped when everyone started gaming the system. \n\nWell I have never told anyone before today that mine was for just $7.27. Yup, it's true. I became famous, powerful, and the wealthiest woman to ever live, with my check being for $7.27. As a matter of fact I still carry it with me to this day, see here it is.\n\nNeedless to say when I got that check I though my life was over. I was halfway through college with no way to make enough money to get by on my own, and I had heard endless \"small check\" horror stories of suicides, accidents, and murderers, as everyone had back then. So I was certain this check had to signal the end of my life.\n\nI went to the bank, endorsed the check, and waited in line for my life too end. But then something happened. It just clicked in my head and I decided to go down fighting. All I could think of to do though is to hold onto it, figuring if I didn't cash it I couldn't spend it, and if I didn't spend it I couldn't die. I was cut off from family support per the check rules, but I still had a month left in the dorm. So that is when I stopped attending class and started hustling. \n\nThe rest of the story has been told a million times, so I won't bore you. But I will say if it weren't for that check being for just $7.27 I would have never been anything more than a simple accountant. Never let anyone else tell you what your life will be, choose for yourself and make it happen.\n\nThanks for listening, you are such a sweety. Now how much do I owe you for the muffin?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The battle for a theocracy was a turbulent one and was the cause of the single greatest loss of life since the second world war - dubbed the 10th crusade. Despite this, the battle was won and a new holy land was established. Jerusalem's economy tanked and people flocked to our new country, a holy country. It was wonderful.\n\nTraditional thinking would tell you that society would quickly descend into anarchy as the inevitable disarray takes hold. Traditional thinking would be right was if not for one fundamentally flawed assumption. You see, the rich toiled in their bunkers hoping to wait out the worst of the looting and violence when something unprecedented happened: the government began to work in the best interest of the citizens. It was being run by the single smartest, most powerful entity - through a vessel. An unpleasant side effect of this however, was that no one could ignore the reality that God exists (though not for a lack of trying) and lifestyles had to change in accordance with that fact. It was now no longer just priests that took vows of poverty. On everyone's 18th birthday they are given exactly how much money they need for the rest of their humble lives, none can be borrowed, none can be earned. Whether the drying of funds precipitated or caused death is a hotly debated topic. Regardless, all but the terminally ill could expect a sum totalling in the low tens of thousands at the very least. Enter me.\n\n$7.67. 767 *FUCKING* CENTS. Even with heavy government subsidies, this is not enough for a week - let alone a lifetime, so forgive my French. See, most would think this means that they are about to die, but me, I know I'm fine. I am two weeks from mission and in the 47 years this country has existed *not one person* has died this soon before mission. So what? Is god calling me fat? Angus Barbieri is whole number multiples heavier than me. So I do what every rational man of the cloth does and head to the temple, it's almost time for prayers anyways.\n\nIf you guys want more I'll finish this later. I got finals to study for.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-04-24T11:38:23 | 2019-04-24T11:25:08 | 27 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My name is Aaron Aaercbia and I finally got my basic income check. I was in a weird age bracket? Maybe my literally alpha name. My birthday was one day after the start of the school year, so I was always 364 days ahead.\n\n I got my check 2 daysbefore my 21st birthday. $7.27. Cashable only after 28/August/2067\n\nTwo days from now. $7.27? That meant only one thing! The government was going to do another currency reverse split!\n\nI took a picture and uploaded it to the Insiderinfohedgely.com. forums I got 470 million pre-swap dollars in commissions in the first day for alerting them to the reverse split.\n\nThen sure enough the gov't announced another 100,000 for one currency split. I was rich! I calculated it out, I had money to buy alcohol and food everyday and live rent-free in one of the anarchist neighborhoods under the Topcity for 60 years even with consumer inflation. I finally made it!\n\n-The End-",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I cashed in my newfound fortune. $2 got me on the bus, I got out at the edge of town. I walked for a few hours and found a garage sale sign, I followed the arrows to a somewhat shabby looking hobby farm. There was a very old man sitting amongst the articles he had for sale, all of which had a more leaden appearance than the man and his dull stare. I was scrutinizing a primitive looking shovel, thinking about how much I enjoy the feel of an old tool in my hands. I heard a scatching sound. The man focused his dead stare on me and was using a stick to write 5.27 in the dirt. I gave him the rest of my Minimum. He handed me the shovel, turned and very stiffly he took a knee in front of me. I rang the shovel off the back of his head and he collapsed. I dug a hole and covered him in his earth. I fed his animals and slept in his bed. When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the warm decaying scent of spring. I began to dig up his garden.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-04-24T15:04:14 | 2019-04-24T13:46:39 | 17 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Today’s the day. I turn 21. Sure, it’s a special day because it’s my birthday. But that’s not all. I get my sustenance cash check (SUCC, for short) in the mail today. It’s a special system the government set up to provide money for our life. Certain questions are brought up whenever this program is mentioned: for instance, how come the power used to accurately predict how much money we need isn’t used in other places? and how does the government acquire the money to give out?. \n\nBut this isn’t something we should consider ourselves with. Although I feel like I’m being brainwashed in a dystopia when saying this, I must say that the government knows best. But I digress.\n\nToday’s the day I get the letter. I stretch my arms out and go to check on the mail. It’s a beautiful day. I can hear the bird simulations chirping on the repurposed air raid speakers outside. I go to my battered mailbox, and open its rusty hatch to see a letter inside. As I pull it out of the mailbox, the ground seems to shake a bit.\n\nIt’s a plain manila envelope, with a red sticker resembling a clown nose on the front. I tear it off and glance inside the envelope.\nHonestly, I don’t know what to expect. I’ve never seen the insides of another’s envelope before.\n\nI peer inside, searching its cream depths for my net worth to be revealed. The money in here, I thought to myself, is all that I’m worth.\n\nInside is 7 dollars and 27 cents.\n\nI’m shocked.\n\nWhat the hell is this? I think to myself.\n\nOK. Relax. I can find a way to survive. I go out to the shopping center. I walk out into the underground tunnels and meander over to the shopping center. I walk into a drink dispenser store and order a 6-pack of beer. I’m down to 1 dollar and 48 cents.\n\nGoddamn. I’m tired. I down three cans of beer. I feel hazy and the ground shakes beneath me. I don’t normally drink this much. I’m hungry, so I end up spending another dollar for a slice of cheese bread.\n\nI’m tired. I’d like to fall asleep. Could I get release? What sort of depressing life will I have? I down the remaining beer.\n\nMy head is heavy. I feel trembling all around me. I’m just drunk. The ceiling seems to close in on me. The world is shaking more and more. I feel a sudden, sharp pain over my chest. I force my eyes open and see rubble over me.\n\n I feel strong tremors in my lower intestines. I see someone approaching me for aid. They realize I’m a lost cause. They look in my pockets for change.\n\nI hear a voice promise me a grave. I close my eyes and drift away into dreams, wishing for a happy life that would never be.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27\n\nEdit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "John was astonished by what lay before him. In bold black letters, on a sober cream background read the words that most people were elated to see. But not John. John was far from that. £7.27. £7.27? There had to have been a mistake. Only £7.27? How? Why!? \n\n\"its not fair\" John muttered to himself as he slumped onto the stained floor of his apartment. \"then again, it never is\". There John sat for a while, rocking back and forth pausing occasionally as if to voice some great and remarkable thought, to an audience that simply was not there.\n\n\"fuck it\" he thought. \"i'm done\". John couldn't even storm out of his apartment; if John were to stand up too quickly his anemia would make him feel dizzy and he would have to sit right back down. So like always, he walked out of his apartment in no rush. He didn't close the door. Why should he? He had no plan of returning.\n\nThere was a bridge nearby to where John lived, a young boy died last year because he was playing on it and fell. Needless to say the funeral was closed casket. As John marched to the bridge he noticed all the menial crap he walked by everyday without realizing. Corner shop after corner shop after corner shop.\n\nHe'd never gone into one of the stores before so why now? Why not? He had nothing to lose after all. He had no idea why he was in there, no idea what he wanted. He supposed it was just a way to delay, waste some time before the inevitable. So that's what he'd do. Waste some time. John picked up a random tub of gum and dragged himself in front of the cashier.\n\n\"Will that be all sir?\" the cashier asked in an uninterested tone. John had zoned out, he wasn't listening, he was too busy thinking about what he was about to do.\n\n\"Sir?\" the cashier probed.\n\n\"Oh-uh, sorry, uh...\" John stammered. He noticed some lottery tickets behind the counter. He looked at his current total. £2.27. \"how much for the scratch card?\".\n\n\"five pounds\". the cashier shot back, with uncharacteristic energy. £5? \n\nJohn chuckled to himself, \"yeah, give me one of those\". It was like it was preordained, planned by some greater power. \"Cheers mate\" John muttered before stumbling out the store. sat on the edge of the bridge, John stabbed away at his scratch card. One diamond. Must have been a fluke. Two diamonds. There's no way he'll win. Three. Diamonds. He understood now. He was rich. Three diamonds! Suddenly it all made sense to John.\n\nAs John danced and jumped and hollered, he stepped back, into the road. He didn't hear the car come speeding round the corner.\n\nAs John lay there, choking on his own kidneys, he appreciated the great irony in his situation. Had he never won the lottery, he wouldn't have stepped into the road. Had he lost he would have jumped.\n\nFunny that.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-06-19T05:57:41 | 2019-06-19T05:48:43 | 1,644 | 103 | [
{
"content": "[WP] 2174. Sleep is prohibited amongst all U.S citizens. Pills known as “Wakey Tablets” provide enough raw energy to stay awake for 3 days. Anyone caught sleeping will be shot on sight. You are secretly running an underground network of beds for all to sleep on. You hear a knock on the door.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The longest I have ever stayed awake in one run was 179 days. Everything starts to sort of blend together, it gets hard to distinguish one day from the next. Bad moods drag on through the whole week or month. Good ones can last too, it's not *all* bad, but humans weren't really meant to function this way, and as Day 180 approached, I decided I'd had enough. I would seek out the Underground Dreamroad.\n\nOh, the dreams. You don't know how much you've missed them until you've had them back. So very different from waking life, so otherworldly, and always seeming so very, very real. Dangerous, sure. But still our right, as free humans. Better than the pills, I say. More awake, even, ironically. More aware of reality's true underpinnings.\n\nThe Feds claimed that their Sleep Deferral Medication—they always seemed annoyed with the mocking \"Wakey Tablet\" nickname—was just a stopgap. A temporary measure while scientists worked frantically if somewhat grudgingly with mystics and ex-cultists to find a \"solution\" to the Deep Dreaming.\n\nWell, I don't think the Deep Dreaming needs a solution. *We* don't think that. It can be dangerous, sure. There have been some deaths, and some others who have become...lost. But we feel the dreams are worth it. What is the price of enlightenment, after all? How much should a determined Seeker risk in their sacred obligation to understand the true nature of this universe and all the ones that sit below and around?\n\nAnd anyway, the Underground Dreamroad provides a safe place to dream, even if the dreams themselves aren't always. People are going to sleep anyway, so they may as well do it with us. Where there are guards, and guidance, and the Somnolent Hounds trotting back and forth between beds, sniffing out peril, chasing away the Gaunt Things that try to press through wherever a mass of journeying minds has sunk down into the Places Below and made the separations thin.\n\nI became the leader of the Underground Dreamroad after the previous Wise Dreamer became Lost. A becoming to follow a becoming. I walk the rows of beds, pet the Hounds, pat the sacred new limbs acquired in nighttime quests by the twitching bodies of the sleepers.\n\nOne of the guards comes hurrying down the steps. \"Wise Dreamer,\" he says, panting. \"Someone is knocking on the door. The *front* door.\"\n\nI smile, letting him see every one of my second row of teeth, dripping with holy venoms. \"Good. Their information is limited, then.\" No one knocks on the front door but the cursed paramilitary police, and sometimes salespeople but we don't mind them, they can be invited in, they can be invited to all sorts of things. \"If they were operating with good intelligence, they would have come through the Supplicant's Door.\"\n\n\"Yes, Wise Dreamer,\" he says, beginning to catch his breath. He glances at the stairs. \"Should we give them a tour of the false home above, then?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" I say. \"They are probably only conducting a routine che—\"\n\nThere is a loud crashing sound from the back entrance, not even the Supplicant's Door but the special way known only to the Lower Circles. There are immediate gunshots and screams.\n\n\"Damn it,\" I growl. \"We're going to lose a whole ward's worth of Sleepers.\" That would mean fewer recruits from among the ones who could bear the dreams properly, and less raw material from those who couldn't. I lick my lips and feel the hungry deeper voids of my soul growl. \"How deep into sleep is the next ward over?\"\n\n\"Very, Wise Dreamer.\" The guard's smile is broad, and the delicate tendrils of his neck wave in holy admiration.\n\n\"Good. Let the Gaunts come through and deal with these self-righteous meddlers. We will lose that ward too, but they will lose their strike team, and we can afford the loss in ways they cannot.\"\n\nMore gunshots. Faint cries. \"Cultist guards! Take them alive if you can! Leave the next room alone, the Mystic Sergeant says it's not safe.\"\n\n\"Fuck,\" I say, and spread my scythe-tipped wings wide as I stride toward the noises, trailing black blessed mists. Losses we can afford, but prisoners in their hands could be dangerous.\n\nI'll have to attend to this myself.\n\n​\n\nCome on by r/Magleby for more elaborate lies.",
"role": "assistant"
}
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{
"content": "[WP] 2174. Sleep is prohibited amongst all U.S citizens. Pills known as “Wakey Tablets” provide enough raw energy to stay awake for 3 days. Anyone caught sleeping will be shot on sight. You are secretly running an underground network of beds for all to sleep on. You hear a knock on the door.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The sound of crashing waves was heard throughout the room. Soria lifted the corners of her lips as she looked through the dual-monitors. This was why she took the risk; watching people get real sleep was the most satisfying thing she had ever witnessed. \n\nMost people didn’t get to see it or experience it. The SP were strict and ruthless, carrying tablets in their pockets and loaded guns as they patrolled. \n\nShe had the unique opportunity to watch it every day, and help people around the connecting cities find their own local place to rest. Her pen flipped in a circle around her idle fingers, landing with a small tap on her thumb. \n\nNib oriented downward, she looked back at her paperwork. She still needed to create a monthly schedule for counter-patrol, order back up batteries for the sound machines, and restock her inventory of Wakey Tablets. They strongly encouraged everyone to take one on their way out the door. \n\nHalf-way through the word ‘crate’ a knock on the door startled her, turning an A into a jagged line down the page. A huff of breath left her mouth in irritation; they were not supposed to bother her back here. \n\nRolling her chair back to stand up, she glanced at the time. In half an hour she would have been out to relieve the doorman anyways. Nevertheless, she moved her sluggish legs forward and opened the cheap plywood door to let in whoever had interrupted her. \n\nStanding on the other side, wringing their hands, was a member of her active counter-patrol team. She tilted her head in confusion. \n\n“Davis, what are you doing here? What is the matter?” she asked as she scooted to the side, holding the door open still. \n\nThe lanky man walked in, standing next to her desk. He fidgeted with the corner while Soria closed and locked her office door. \n\nShe walked around to her side of the desk and sat back down in her chair, pulling it in. She hoped he would talk while she attempted to finish up her work. \n\n“We had a runner from the bunker across the bridge,” Davis said. The words rushed out of his mouth, shaking towards the end. \n\n“And?” Her pen was in her hand again, correcting the mistake his knock had caused her to make. \n\n“They are down.” \n\n“Down?” she asked, looking back up. \n\nHe had crossed his arms against his chest, dropping them again as she shifted her attention back to him. He gestured widely with his hands as he spoke again, “Down! The whole thing is down, Soria. The SP found the door, and the patrol didn’t spot him or didn’t relay fast enough. They got in the bunker, Sor,” his voice squeaked as he continued, “80 percent capacity. All gone.” \n\nThe bottom of her jaw went slack as her eyes grew wide. The township bunker wasn’t the largest part of their operation, but it wasn’t the smallest either. It held 100 people full the last time she had checked, not counting counter patrol, doormen, or the organizer. \n\nOne of her best friends ran that sight. “Teegan?” The question came out just above a whisper. \n\nDavis shook his head and began to pace the length of the pale blonde desk. \n\nThe network was generally considered a chain, rather than completely separate entities. They all knew the risks they took to themselves, those who came to them, and to each other. There was protocol, however, and Soria hoped that the paperwork and maps were not hanging on the walls when they stormed in. \n\n“Paper trail?” She pushed the words out of her mouth. The ability to articulate words was difficult at that moment. \n\nDavis shrugged. “A running patrol made it over the bridge and into the city. Soria…” He stopped and looked her in the eye. It was the first moment he had been still since they had entered the cluttered office space. “I think we need to clear out.” \n\nSoria made eye contact and then pulled away. She looked down at her paperwork, and then over at the monitors. In the silence of their conversation, she could hear the wave machines again, helping the room full of people sleep. \n\nEvery single one of them would be considered criminals, and shooing them all out at once would draw attention. \n\n“Ok. Grab Holland and start waking them up. Go in pairs- I need to…” she paused, looking around her office. It was her second home, and the thought of her or anyone else ransacking it broke her heart. “I need to take care of a few things.” \n\nHer vision became watery as Davis nodded, and then closed the door behind him. \n\n/r/Beezus_Writes",
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}
] |
2019-06-19T06:30:01 | 2019-06-19T05:48:43 | 968 | 103 | [
{
"content": "[WP] 2174. Sleep is prohibited amongst all U.S citizens. Pills known as “Wakey Tablets” provide enough raw energy to stay awake for 3 days. Anyone caught sleeping will be shot on sight. You are secretly running an underground network of beds for all to sleep on. You hear a knock on the door.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "In the wake of a series of natural disasters of the 2150s, a food and water crisis of unprecedented scale struck the world. The world was in for a rude awakening as prices soared by dozens of times, and suddenly, going to bed with a full belly wasn’t a given anymore.\n\nThe first cases popped up in China. A few factory workers, determined to put in a few more hours of work here and there to make ends meet, popped a few ‘Wakey Tablets’, then merely novelty pills not much different from coffee. They stayed awake and working for 8 eight days straight, delaying their sleep with tablets again and again.\n\nThe practice caught on in the world like wildfire. The moment one country did it, everyone followed suit, desperate not to be left behind in the great race to productivity. Work ethicality inverted as now that the question whether you ‘could’ work for days on end was answered, the question of whether you ‘should’ was a foregone conclusion.\n\nBy the time 2174 rolled around, legislation had been passed in the USA outlawing sleep. Legislators reasoned that all Americans had to play their part in these troubling times, never mind that the troubling time had come and gone in the 50s. A push from Wakey Wakey Inc, now amongst the richest companies, didn’t hurt either.\n\nThe younger ones don’t even remember what it’s like to sleep or dream anymore. But I know. I lived through all of that, and every suicide in the papers stabs at my heart as I remember what was, not what is. The world is broken on a fundamental level somewhere, and everyone refuses to acknowledge it as long as there’s still economic growth.\n\nBut I admit it. And I want to change the world in my own way, regardless of how small it was. That’s why I set up a network of safe havens, where people are free to count sheep and dream, as they haven’t for years. Strangely, the hardest part in establishing it was sourcing for beds. You haven’t seen the true seedy underbelly of the country until you’ve met shady black market mattress cartels. Even now, I have trouble wrapping my mind around those gun toting men driving around their trucks of mattresses.\n\nTo reduce the risk, I try to be as hands-off as possible, setting up the havens then leaking its location to like-minded people, before cutting off ties as much as possible. But every now and then, I have to follow up like now. Some things need to be done, and as this is a solo venture, I have to go at it alone. I heard from my contacts that the bed at Haven #306 is infested with bed bugs. Every mattress is a precious commodity, more so with my dealer recently getting busted.\n\nI get to work with my scrub, removing the last traces of the devils with a vengeance. \n\n*Knock*\n\nMy entire body immediately tenses up. What I’m doing, between legal and illegal, falls very firmly on the illegal side. Anyone seeing my face was a risk, a danger. That was if it was another Sleeper. If it were the military police? I’ll be shot on sight. I weigh my options as the knocking becomes more urgent. Do I hide under a bed? Perhaps, in these days without beds, it would no longer be an obvious hiding place, and it could be a blind spot, and I might-\n\nNah, absolutely no one is that dumb, I thought, as I hid under the bed.\n\n“Anyone in here…?” The door opened silently, a feature I prided myself on so that it wouldn’t disturb anyone’s rest. The voice seemed to be slightly familiar, but I was more focused on silencing my breathing and trying to erase my presence.\n\nA sigh of relief, and the bed creaked as a man got on it, before he followed up with an exhausted yawn. It took minutes, amongst the most tense in my life and only topped by the time my mattress dealer pulled a gun on me, before I heard the sounds of soft snoring filling the room. \n\nI gave it another few minutes before gingerly exiting the small space beneath the bed, beating a hasty retreat from Haven #306. I blinked when I saw the man’s face, but didn’t let it slow me down as I exited silently(with much help from my very quiet door. Have I mentioned how proud I am of it?).\n\nAs I made my merry way away, I couldn’t help but think of the governor of my state, now taking a much needed rest in Haven #306. The message was spreading, as people of all social statuses began to realise we had gone wrong somewhere. Perhaps there was still hope for change.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] 2174. Sleep is prohibited amongst all U.S citizens. Pills known as “Wakey Tablets” provide enough raw energy to stay awake for 3 days. Anyone caught sleeping will be shot on sight. You are secretly running an underground network of beds for all to sleep on. You hear a knock on the door.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The sound of crashing waves was heard throughout the room. Soria lifted the corners of her lips as she looked through the dual-monitors. This was why she took the risk; watching people get real sleep was the most satisfying thing she had ever witnessed. \n\nMost people didn’t get to see it or experience it. The SP were strict and ruthless, carrying tablets in their pockets and loaded guns as they patrolled. \n\nShe had the unique opportunity to watch it every day, and help people around the connecting cities find their own local place to rest. Her pen flipped in a circle around her idle fingers, landing with a small tap on her thumb. \n\nNib oriented downward, she looked back at her paperwork. She still needed to create a monthly schedule for counter-patrol, order back up batteries for the sound machines, and restock her inventory of Wakey Tablets. They strongly encouraged everyone to take one on their way out the door. \n\nHalf-way through the word ‘crate’ a knock on the door startled her, turning an A into a jagged line down the page. A huff of breath left her mouth in irritation; they were not supposed to bother her back here. \n\nRolling her chair back to stand up, she glanced at the time. In half an hour she would have been out to relieve the doorman anyways. Nevertheless, she moved her sluggish legs forward and opened the cheap plywood door to let in whoever had interrupted her. \n\nStanding on the other side, wringing their hands, was a member of her active counter-patrol team. She tilted her head in confusion. \n\n“Davis, what are you doing here? What is the matter?” she asked as she scooted to the side, holding the door open still. \n\nThe lanky man walked in, standing next to her desk. He fidgeted with the corner while Soria closed and locked her office door. \n\nShe walked around to her side of the desk and sat back down in her chair, pulling it in. She hoped he would talk while she attempted to finish up her work. \n\n“We had a runner from the bunker across the bridge,” Davis said. The words rushed out of his mouth, shaking towards the end. \n\n“And?” Her pen was in her hand again, correcting the mistake his knock had caused her to make. \n\n“They are down.” \n\n“Down?” she asked, looking back up. \n\nHe had crossed his arms against his chest, dropping them again as she shifted her attention back to him. He gestured widely with his hands as he spoke again, “Down! The whole thing is down, Soria. The SP found the door, and the patrol didn’t spot him or didn’t relay fast enough. They got in the bunker, Sor,” his voice squeaked as he continued, “80 percent capacity. All gone.” \n\nThe bottom of her jaw went slack as her eyes grew wide. The township bunker wasn’t the largest part of their operation, but it wasn’t the smallest either. It held 100 people full the last time she had checked, not counting counter patrol, doormen, or the organizer. \n\nOne of her best friends ran that sight. “Teegan?” The question came out just above a whisper. \n\nDavis shook his head and began to pace the length of the pale blonde desk. \n\nThe network was generally considered a chain, rather than completely separate entities. They all knew the risks they took to themselves, those who came to them, and to each other. There was protocol, however, and Soria hoped that the paperwork and maps were not hanging on the walls when they stormed in. \n\n“Paper trail?” She pushed the words out of her mouth. The ability to articulate words was difficult at that moment. \n\nDavis shrugged. “A running patrol made it over the bridge and into the city. Soria…” He stopped and looked her in the eye. It was the first moment he had been still since they had entered the cluttered office space. “I think we need to clear out.” \n\nSoria made eye contact and then pulled away. She looked down at her paperwork, and then over at the monitors. In the silence of their conversation, she could hear the wave machines again, helping the room full of people sleep. \n\nEvery single one of them would be considered criminals, and shooing them all out at once would draw attention. \n\n“Ok. Grab Holland and start waking them up. Go in pairs- I need to…” she paused, looking around her office. It was her second home, and the thought of her or anyone else ransacking it broke her heart. “I need to take care of a few things.” \n\nHer vision became watery as Davis nodded, and then closed the door behind him. \n\n/r/Beezus_Writes",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-06-26T12:47:04 | 2019-06-26T11:26:18 | 18 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are the final boss. You have been waiting for the final epic battle against the hero. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, your minions report back. The news? The hero abandoned the main quest to do side quests.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Reportedly, I am torturing my subjects. I am grinding their faces under my large, leaded boots. I am spitting on the freedom they deserve. \nReportedly, I have the hero's princess. I can and do make her do anything and everything for me. Perhaps I'm doing something to her in the dungeon that involves leather and whips. The hero had better save her from me, and fast. \nReportedly. Actually, that sort of thing is below me. I don't really go out to see my people. Now, I'm half way through Harry Potter and worrying. \n\n\nThe hero got stuck at one of the small bosses. Really stuck. I've managed to watch all three 'Lord of the Rings' movies, and read the complete works of Shakespeare, and in all that time, he hasn't challenged The Hellhound again. According to my minions, he's just exploring the area and doing things for the villagers. Things like gathering roses and clearing out minor hordes of goblins. Things that are beneath most heroes. \n\n\nI feel just like Claudius in Hamlet? He knew his nephew was going to avenge him one day. That day just took an eternity to come. \n\n\nEventually, the hero appears at the foot of my throne. Five feet of scrawny farm boy, with long blonde hair and shoes still too big from his feet. If he'd completed the necessary objectives, he'd be looking much cooler than this. \n\n\nHe can't be challenging me now. He still hasn't beaten The Hellhound. There's still so much plot he needs to get through. Still, I can't help but notice that there is a change in the music as he faces me. He can face me now, and die. Then, this damn thing will be over. \n\n\nI draw my axe. I've always liked my axe. It's so heavy, it's almost a club. It was made for brute cruelty, and nothing else. Just like me. \n\"Sir,\" he says, \"I'm really sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for a..\" \n\n\nAt this point, I scream. The music goes. I throw my sword on the floor. \n\"I'm the villain! I torture people! Aren't you filled with a desire to destroy me.\" \nThe hero's brow furrows, \"I haven't seen you torture people.\" \n\"You haven't watched the necessary cinematics. You disgust me. You haven't even touched the plot. I am damn evil. Wicked and despicable to the core.\" \n\"Actually,\" said the hero, \"You don't seem like a bad ruler. People seem happy. There's very little crime. Maybe you were evil once, and you've changed now.\" \n\n\nHe smiles vaguely, \"Anyway, I'd make a much worse ruler. I'm just a little farm boy. Not cut out for that sort of thing. There'd be a civil war before you knew it.\" \n\"Look!\" I yell, \"If you played the story, you'd be a worthy hero by now. And there is no pacifist option. You have to beat me to win.\" \nThe boy shrugs again, \"Win? I want to make people happy.\" \nI shake my head, \"Not making me happy. I need to fight you.\" \n\n\nSuddenly, the boy's eyes gleam. His mouth opens wide, \"The villagers have a lot of chores, don't they? I'm nowhere near finished.\" \n\"Just stop. Nobody really cares about the side quests.\" \n\"But I know how we can fight.\" \nHe's almost laughing now, \"From sunrise to sundown, the one who has done the most side quests will be proclaimed the victor.\" \nI spit, \"Easy. I rule these...\" \n\n\nThen I stop. I don't do chores for people. I grind their faces under my boot. I'm a villain, and villains are never nice to people. But I think I'm going to need to be nice to people if I'm ever going to progress. \n\n\nI sigh, \"Okay. But you'll be sorry you messed with me. I'll beat your little farm boy ass.\" \nHe grins, and walks out. His sword, barely used, lies in his scabbard. Suddenly, compared to him, the traditional hero seems villainous. Killing first, asking questions later, just to fight me and win. \nThis boy knows it's not winning that matters. It's how you play the game.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are the final boss. You have been waiting for the final epic battle against the hero. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, your minions report back. The news? The hero abandoned the main quest to do side quests.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Bring him to me.\" He said. Clenching his tightly armored fist. Several subserviants kneeled before him, trembling.\n\n\"My liege, the warrior,\" he hesitated, licking his dry lips and looking to the others for reassurance, \"he has trailed off course.\"\n\nThe blood thirsty king took two small steps forward, towering over the petrified underling who is refusing to make eye contact with his superior. \"And how did you allow that to happen?\" The king whispered, his voice heavy with anger.\n\n\"Please.\" The minion begged, casting his gaze upward to the abysmal eye holes of the ancient head gear.\n\n\"I'm beginning to understand now.\" The king said, turning away from the disappointing minions. The thick aroma of hellfire wafted to the king, momentarily calming his rising frustration. Until the minion coughed. The king spun around and leapt in large, heavy strides to his subordinate. \"You are weak!\"\n\n\"Please!\" Was all the minion could spit out. The king flicked his fingers in wave like motions, conjuring the flames of hell in his palm. With minimal effort, the king splashed the minion at his feet, dousing him with the tormented flames. The king shuttered in absolute pleasure while he listened to the weak mans cried of torment. He relished in knowing that he his reign of power was so supreme. He knew the last objective to complete before his absolute rule would be killing the rogue adventurer.\n\n\"Where has he gone then?\"\n\n\"He, uhhhh.\"\n\n\"Where!\" The king screamed, his demand echoing through the dark lair.\n\n\"He's completing.\" The next closest minion hesitated before exhaling his trembling breath, \"side quests, your highness.\"\n\nThe king recoiled in disbelief. He looked from one terrified minion to another before setting his gaze back to the one directly answering him.\n\n\"He is in the delapitaed caverns, underneath the city of Requia.\" A voice stated. \n\nThe king inspected his dull and lacerated armour. Pacing calmly back and forth. The voice belongs to one of his captains. A brutish figure wielding a twin sided battle axe freshly coated with dark strains of blood and clinging bone fragments.\n\n\"Captain, why are you here?\"\n\n\"To serve my liege.\" He said, as if stating the obvious.\n\n\"You miss my point and test my patience.\" The king's voice ascending, the vibration from his roar reverberating the stone walls. Chunks from the ceiling break loose, crashing down to the solid floor below.\n\n\"My apologies.\" The captain said, a smidge of arrogance bleeds from his throat, not lost on the infuriated king.\n\nThe kings physical body eviscerates, leaving behind only the ripe smoke coiling in wet air. When he reappears he is launching himself at the captain. The captain attempts to evade the ambush but is too late. The king thrust his large hand to the captain's exposed neck. He grips the flesh firmly, feeling the tendins twitch as his gloved hand presses harder around his throat.\n\n\"You would be wise to watch your tone. I could rip you apart. I could peel you apart piece by piece and feed you to my dog's.\"\n\nThe captain gurgles and places his hands over top of the kings. His eyes begin to roll toward the back of his head and the king releases him. He drops to his back and gulps for air, the skin of his face still overflowing with blood.\n\n\"My king. I've just received word. The warrior has left a message for you.\" Another underling shrouded in a black robe extends a shaky hand, revealing a blood stained letter folded neatly in half. The king remains rooted to the spot and motions for the hooded minion to bring him the note.\n\n'I'll be there when I can. I need to level up first.'\n\n\"What,\" the king crumbles the frail slip of paper in his hand, burning it to ashes, \"what is this.\"\n\n\"He had another message for you sir. The courier didn't make it due to wounds recieved on the battlefield. He said he'll face you when you are worthy.\"\n\nThe king stood motionless. The phrase uttered by this bug swimming through his clouded mind. A red hot flame exploding from within him, Masking the enclosed lair in an ocean of treacherous fire. There were no survivors, only the scorched barriers containing his wrath. He left for the warrior who mocks him, grabbing his war blade before exiting his silent base. He will kill the warrior. He will do what ever is necessary. His reign will be absolute.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2020-02-13T09:19:23 | 2020-02-13T09:08:17 | 2,332 | 674 | [
{
"content": "[WP] \"Unfortunately, you do not meet the requirements for this particular heaven however, I can provide you with a list of afterlifes that you may qualify for.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The pearly gates spread before Paul like the open arms of home. He blinked around, blearily. He was fortyish, overweightish, and certainly hadn't planned to die like this. In the world of the living, his family would be stumbling upon his corpse shortly.\n\nBut Paul couldn't quite focus on that worry now.\n\nHe trudged up to the pearly gates in his stained pajama bottoms. The clouds beneath his socked feet were fluffy and damp. \n\nPaul approached the gates of heaven, uncertainly. They towered golden over him. He tilted his head back to stare in awe.\n\nAhead of him, a window slotted open. A bright-faced angel poked her head out of the gap of the service window and said, \"Ahh, you must be Paul Brooks. You're just in time.\"\n\n\"I am?\"\n\n\"My records here show that you had a sudden aneuyrism-induced stroke and passed away in your sleep just a few minutes ago.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Paul's brow crinkled in annoyance. \"Are you sure there hasn't been some kind of mistake here?\"\n\n\"Look, clots happen. We all get clots. It's not the end of the world, just the end of a life.\" The angel opened up a thick file folder of paperwork and put on a pair of golden spectacles. \"Now, it seems here that you weren't carrying afterlife insurance at the time of your accident.\"\n\n\"I wasn't... what?\"\n\n\"There are lots of coverage options. Satan's Pugatorial Group, Gabriel's Golden Years, Jesus Saves... You a Ton of Money on Afterlife Insurance.\" The angel grimaced. \"That one isn't so catchy, I suppose. But they do have a great purgatory deductible.\"\n\n\"Who buys afterlife insurance?\" Paul balked.\n\n\"People who *plan ahead* and don't go dying willy-nilly.\" The angel rolled her eyes like she had heard this a dozen times before. \"You have lots of pre-existing mortal sins here. Alcoholism, lying to your wife about it--\"\n\n\"Alcoholism is a strong word,\" Paul muttered, even though it maybe could have bloomed into that, if he lived long enough. \"What the hell is all this about, anyway? I've been faithful.\" *Mostly.* \"And good.\" Again, *mostly*.\n\nThe angel sighed. \"The point is, Mr. Brooks, you don't have coverage for this area of the afterlife. Some mortal nations offer universal afterlife care, but...\" She glanced over the form. \"Yep. American. You don't qualify, kid.\"\n\nPaul almost argued, but he supposed to an immortal angel he probably was a kid. \"So what does all that mean?\"\n\n\"You have to choose from our uninsured plan.\" The angel offered him a wrinkled papyrus scroll, with a crudely drawn map of the spirit world. A long list of afterlives were marked off as **OUT OF INSURANCE NETWORK**. He didn't even manage to qualify for hell. Elysium and Hades, Valhalla, the Duat and Dilmum, even good old Catholic purgatory... all of it was outside his coverage area. \n\nPaul squinted at the list. \"It looks like the only place I can go is...?\"\n\nThe angel grinned and produced a gavel as if from nowhere. \"You're right! Nowhere to go but Uninsured Purgatory.\" She slammed the gavel down on her windowsill, and the clouds beneath Paul's socks disintegrated.\n\nHe plummeted until he landed flat on his ass in a DMV-like waiting room. The walls were plain grey, pictureless, windowless. Thousands and thousands of souls crowded the waiting room, stretching backwards into eternity. He would have landed on the other souls standing crowded around, but they moved as if they were used to seeing spirits drop from the ceiling.\n\nPaul looked around frantically at the other damned souls. They seemed just as haggard and dead-eyed as a sea of ghost fish. They stared at him with the same wordless, wide-eyed blankness. All of them wore whatever they died in, from whenever they died. Judging by the dresses and suits he saw, some of them had been here for a century or more.\n\nBut Paul got himself up to his feet and wiped off his pajamas. He weaved his way through the tightly interlocked crowd of spirits until he reached the red ticket counter at the front of the room. \n\nThere was a single clerk at the counter, a dead-eyed angel with a crooked halo. When she saw Paul approaching, she barked like a robot, \"Take a number and find somewhere to stand. Have all your post-life paperwork ready when you get to the window, or you're going to the back of the line.\"\n\nPaul pulled a ticket out and glanced down at it. Number 180,453.\n\nThe screen above the counter said, *Now serving #4302.*\n\nPaul sighed. It was going to be a long afterlife.\n\n***\n\n/r/nickofstatic :)",
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"content": "[WP] \"Unfortunately, you do not meet the requirements for this particular heaven however, I can provide you with a list of afterlifes that you may qualify for.\"",
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"content": "Gabe looked back at the line; that interminable line he'd just spent his first eternity in. It snaked out past the first cloud mountain, then around it, then looped over itself and disappeared into the distance. Back where he'd started, ages ago, just after dying.\n\n\"Seriously?\" he asked the angel at the gate.\n\n\"Seriously. You don't meet the requirements for this heaven.\" Simple as that, it seemed. They could have told him earlier. Like an eternity ago. Inefficiencies of a bureaucracy as big as this one.\n\n\"Are there others?\" Gabe scratched his head. This wasn't how dying was supposed to be. Well, he wasn't sure how dying had supposed to be. His faith didn't detail that. It just said what came after, once he'd gotten past the angels standing guard. \n\nGabe had been a pious man: he went to church on Sundays, he hated folks the clergy told him to hate, and he even read the book they told him to. Well, parts of it, at least. \n\nAnd suddenly here it didn't matter? That was basically what the angel had said. Everybody came from the same place and wound up in the same place, and all that hate he'd thrown at other faiths during his life had been for naught. \n\n\"Yes,\" the angel sighed. \"There are other afterlives.\" Then they rummaged through a filing cabinet until eventually finding the paper they wanted. \n\nSo inefficient, Gabe thought to himself. Especially having had so many eternities to perfect the process. \n\n\"Easy there,\" the angel told him, reading his mind. \"Here. This a list of afterlives you may qualify for.\"\n\nThe paper wasn't so much informational as it was a list. This heaven wasn't on there, but dozens of others were. Some of the names didn't seem all that heavenly--Second Tier of Hell, for example--and Gabe shuddered.\n\n\"So which ones do I meet the requirements for?\"\n\nThe angel stared at him as if he was an imbecile. To be fair, he might have been. But he still didn't like being treated like one. \"I said it details the ones you *may* qualify for,\" the angel snapped. \"Do I look like God to you?\"\n\n\"No, sorry,\" Gabe muttered quietly. \n\n\"Damn right you're sorry.\"\n\nGabe took the paper and then cast one last glance at the line behind him. If he stepped out of line now then reconsidered, it'd be at least another couple eternities before he got to the front again. \"You're positive?\" he asked the angel one last time.\n\n\"Boy, I will boot you out of the clouds if you ask me one more time,\" the angel snapped in a not very angelic manner. \n\n\"Okay, sorry.\" Gabe hung his head low. A tear trickled down his cheek and all he wanted to do was sit down on his bed and cuddle with his dog. But he couldn't. Because he was dead, and his dog was at home, probably being tended to by some paramedic before being shuttled off to the pound. \n\nAnd there was no bed here anyways. Not outside the gates on these clouds. They looked so soft from below, but after standing on them for an eternity, they sure had started to feel awful hard and treacherous to walk on. \n\nThe angel sighed again. They'd read the file, even if it only took the briefest instant. Speed-reading was a prerequisite for the job. That and several eternity's experience. Chronically understaffed and overworked. \n\nGabe had a led a tough life. Victim of his circumstances, some might say. Didn't matter here though, but the angel did feel bad for him. \"Look, bud,\" they said more kindly, leaning in close to share a secret. \"All I can say is don't discount the scarier sounding ones.\"\n\n\"Like Second Tier of Hell?\" Gabe asked, glancing back down at the list to get the name right.\n\n\"Yeah, like that. The name is there to deter folks. From what I've heard, it's really not half bad. Not heaven, obviously. But it sure ain't like the Seventh Tier of Hell.\"\n\nGabe paled a little and glanced down at the list. \"But that's on the list, too.\"\n\n\"Well, sure,\" the angel said. \"You *may* qualify for any of those. Just don't make the wrong choice. It's permanent.\" The angel shrugged. \"Just telling you what the rumor is.\"\n\nGabe forced himself to smile and lifted his head just slightly. \"Thanks,\" he said.\n\n\"You betcha. Better get going though.\"\n\n\"Why? What's the rush?\" Gabe asked curiously.\n\nThe angel smiled, the drawn-back cherubic cheeks revealing two fangs. \"Well, you've got to make a choice. Can't just dawdle out here forever. Trust me. You don't want to be outside the gates after dark.\"\n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!",
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2020-04-01T23:38:44 | 2020-04-01T20:54:45 | 409 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You bought a pair of headphones that are acting up. Every time you plug them in, you hear a different sound - first crying, then a war-zone, now just static. You plug them in again and are frightened to hear a desperate, tearful warning: \"Whatever you do, DON'T unplug the headphones again.\"",
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"content": "I unplugged the headphones.\n\nMy hackles stood tall as needles as I threw the headphones across my room. They landed on paneled floor with a crack.\n\nI grimaced but I stayed 10 feet away as I eyed them for damage. They were faulty so surely I could refund them. Do pawn shops even do refunds?\n\nWith a sigh, I realized why they were so cheap. Studio quality headphones like these don't get sold at my student's budget. It really was too good to be true.\n\nI ran my hands through my mop of hair. Dad's voice rang through my head. \"We told you not to pick Music. Now you're going to be a good for nothing, jobless bum. Why couldn't you pick Engineering like Edmund?\"\n\nI just needed a little something to inspire me for my final project. The offers would roll in then, I knew it. I just needed...\n\nMy eyes trawled to the headphones. They lay placid, silent. I picked them up and hesitated only a second before plugging them once again into my phone.\n\nI listened until *In The End*'s second chorus before releasing bated breath. They say headphones need breaking in right?\n\nI skipped through my library, nodding as I went. Bass was solid, treble was sweet. Next up was *Bring Me to Life*. I smiled. The piano rang like glass chimes and-\n\nI froze. A voice like winter wind trilled, harmonizing like rivers and shoal. Amy Lee had a pretty voice but this... This was not Amy Lee. But it was beautiful. My knees buckled and I sat on the floor. Entranced, I let the whole song play out.\n\nI don't know when the song ended. When I blinked back into my room the headphones were silent. I raised my phone. It was already loyally halfway through the next song, its time bar trudging along like a sure snail. I tapped the headphones. Broken after all?\n\nA smoky wisp caught my eye and I looked up. In front of me stood a girl. She wore a tattered rose swing dress with a ribbon tied around her waist. Long, matted hair framed a pale face ringed with dark eye shadow, which didn't look like makeup. She was translucent.\n\n\"Please,\" she said, \"don't unplug me again.\"",
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"content": "[WP] You bought a pair of headphones that are acting up. Every time you plug them in, you hear a different sound - first crying, then a war-zone, now just static. You plug them in again and are frightened to hear a desperate, tearful warning: \"Whatever you do, DON'T unplug the headphones again.\"",
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"content": "“What?” I muttered, going to unplug them again. Then it spoke again. The same line. “Whatever you do, DON’T unplug the headphones again.” Whoever was saying that... sounded familiar. Like an old voice wrapped into my brain years ago when I was still in school. Then it went to static, cutting out the person. “Who are you?” I asked, wondering if this worked like a phone call. “Grand-“ Static “You have to-“ What? Was this just a virus on these headphones? “The world will-“ again came the static, choking out the rest of what they said. “What sick prank is this?” I growled out, going to unplug the headphones again. “No! Grandparent! Please! We need you to-“ they cut out. A loud bang, leading to silence. A war zone. What a stupid prank. I unplugged the head phones, walking outside. “Run! Their going to kill us!” Someone shouted. Mr. Montser from down the street. He belongs to that voice. “Wha-“ a gunshot. It was close to a gunshot but it wasn’t. Not at all. When I saw who shot him it wasn’t a who. It was a what. It seemed to look like a person slightly. Their ears gone and their body’s tall and lean, the weapons that they carried only belonging to a fantasy. One of them shouted something in a different language, turning and aiming their weapon at me. “That’s the one! They are the only one that is strong enough!” They shouted, their words now in English. “What are you doing!” I shouted, running back in my home, an impulse taking me to my phone. “Plug them in!” A voice shouted in my head. So I did, plugging the headphones back in. The banging on my door stopped, the terrified people and bloody streets fixed themselves. I listened to the headphones. Was that what stopped that? “Oh my god! It worked! You stopped it!” The voice shouted in the headphones. “What did I fix?” I asked myself. “The world is stitching itself back together!” They shouted, the headphones falling out of the socket of my phone, falling out of my ears as well. “What in the world just happened?” I asked myself, standing up.",
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2020-05-11T09:57:11 | 2020-05-11T08:49:10 | 2,942 | 87 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A Japanese company sends a poll to their employees: \"Should high heels be obligatory?\" 76% of men and 23% of women vote in favour. \"Per the poll, the new dress code will start Monday. We will provide you with shoes.\" The men are directed to the counter with high heels, the women to flat shoes.",
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"content": "As Nobu walked away with his pair of pumps, Aiko came up with her flats.\n\n\"Sexy, Nobu. Looks classy! Aiko teased.\n\nNobu smiled. \"I'm glad that the managers have a sense of humor. Better for morale I think. Though I thought it would be mandatory for everyone, especially since health and safety sent out the poll.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well I guess they have a playful side. There are so many men in this company, I say it's high time the odds are evened up. Maybe more men will start making way for us ladies.\"\n\nThey got back to their cubicles, and sitting side-by-side they put on their new foot wear. After taking a few steps, Nobu sits back down, visibly annoyed.\n\n\"They're really pinching me!\"\n\nAiko tosses a box of band aids on Nobu's desk. \"That should help.\"\n\nTending to his already sore toes, Nobu strategically covers up rubbed skin.\n\n\"Looks good though. Even after a few steps, I wouldn't minding following you to the copier.\" Aiko was loving the new rule.\n\nSuddenly, an alarm bell came on the PA. Red emergency lights start flashing.\n\n*Employees be aware. The National Emergency Alarm has been activated. Proceed towards your nearest emergency exit in an orderly and brisk fashion. This is not a drill*.\n\nNobu and Aiko walked together. The hall was ringing with the taps of mens' heels while everyone started filing out. Flashing red lights lined the halls and stairways, lighting the faces of the concerned employees. As they got downstairs, Nobu could see a growing chaotic scene. Fellow employees being pushed down and trampled by other panic bystanders.\n\n\"Nobu, what's going on?\"\n\n\"I don't know Aiko! C'mon!\"\n\nAs Nobu grabbed for Aiko's hand, he started to move to the side and twisted his ankle. Falling down, he grabbed his leg. Aiko knelt down to tend to her friend.\n\n\"Are you alright?\"\n\n\"It's impossible to run in these!\"\n\nAs they lay on the sidewalk, a number of their colleagues lie around them falling down as they try to run away.\n\n\"What the hell is going on!\" Nobu yelled out in frustration as he focused on his fast swelling ankle. \"Aiko, please help me up. Aiko!\"\n\nGawking up at the unbelievable sight, Aiko didn't hear Nobu's request. Slowly trembling away from Nobu, with watering eyes and quivering lips, she runs at full sprint in the opposite direction.\n\nIncredulous, Nobu looks back in the other direction. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, as he shouted at the top of his lungs: \"Godzilla!\"\n\nEdit: typos",
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{
"content": "[WP] A Japanese company sends a poll to their employees: \"Should high heels be obligatory?\" 76% of men and 23% of women vote in favour. \"Per the poll, the new dress code will start Monday. We will provide you with shoes.\" The men are directed to the counter with high heels, the women to flat shoes.",
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"content": "After a brief walk down from the station, I stopped much more abruptly than expected. My daily trip brought me to work at 7:15 AM. I would be on my desk checking my agenda and projects for the week. Instead, the time was 7:14, and I was in line.\n\nI sidled my head to the left. The line for men stretched about maybe 30 meters. This would take a while. Tanabe waved at me. He was 10 spaces ahead of me. I've known him since middle school. I envied that guy. He had a 1LDK maybe 10 minutes walking from here. While I crammed each night only to fail repeatedly, his father sent him overseas. Years later, we both started working here together at the same time. I started at the lowest level possible. I had pleaded and begged the hiring company to get me an interview anywhere. Tanabe, on the other hand, well, his father-in-law is a regional manager. Let's just say that he's well off.\n\nBut I guess the relationship I have with Tanabe isn't quite far off from the relationship I have with everyone else I associate with. I've always had a lot of looking up to do. Everyone looks down on me. Figuratively and literally. Last to get started. Last to finish. Perennially in last place. Worst of all, everyone looks down on me because I'm the shortest. From the moment I could remember things, I could only look up to others.\n\nI've never spent a single yen on White Day. A month prior, while everyone else is awkwardly awaiting choco and hoping not to get giri-choco\\*, I would sigh when everyone passed by and asked if I got any oko-sama-choco\\*\\*. I grinned and faked my smile. I hated it. I hated how the kids who got nothing, still had less trauma than I did. I hated how Tanabe would come by to \"share the wealth\" with me. Those eyes started condescendingly upon me. I hated it.\n\nEven as an adult, things haven't changed. No matter how hard I work, how many projects I help on, how much we get on our return on investment, the first thing I get acknowledged for is being that 'kid' in the group. My manager, my section chief, even the cleaning lady - all of them look down on me...\n\nWhen the company poll came out two weeks ago, I figured... I'll have my fun. I'll have my mini moment of revenge. As they say, vote early; vote often.\n\n\\*giri-choco - obligatory chocolate given to others. Friends and acquaintances.\n\n\\*\\*oko-sam-choco - \"oko-sama\" is a term used 'lovingly' to talk to children. It's putting the child at the center of attention. So here, \"oko-sama-choco\" would be \"chocolate to kids\".",
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2020-08-12T22:54:58 | 2020-08-12T19:51:38 | 194 | 58 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A witch cursed you with incredibly bad luck. A kindly mage tried to cancel out the curse by blessing you with luck. It kinda worked. You now end up in danger all the time yet somehow never get hurt. Sometimes you win a lottery, only to lose the winnings in the most unlikely way possible.",
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"content": "If we're all being honest, any one of us has thought about what it would be like to be in a plane wreck; what might go through your head as it takes that final dive, what you would do in your final moments, it's natural really. Terrifying, morbid maybe, but natural.\n\nWhat certainly wasn't natural was Ted's total lack of interest in the situation. \n\nAs people panicked and prayed, bracing for the soon and inevitable impact, he simply checked his watch before casually stowing away the tattered book he had almost finished reading.\n\n\"I told you.\" he sighed.\n\n\"Now is not the time Ted!\" Carolyn screamed as she was being driven further into her seat.\n\n\"If we had gone by foot when I said we could, this wouldn't have happened. Now we're going to be late.\"\n\n\"Hang the wedding! We're going to die in ten seconds and your schedule's not going to matter!\"\n\n\"No we're not.\"\n\nThe engines began to rumble and sputter to life outside the windows. \n\nPop. Pop. Pop. Boom ba boom ba vroom.\n\nThe wings flared dramatically as the plane swung upward from the ground, hardly scraping the trees as it soared upward as if finally caught on the end of a rope. Everything and everyone in the cabin were pressed toward the floor with great force until the arc finally leveled out. As people slowly opened their eyes and glanced at one another, a murmur began, which then grew into a cheer.\n\nThe pilot came on the intercom, their voice shaky and weak compared to that first confident announcement that they could be early to their destination. \n\n\"Folks we're going to make an emergency landing as soon as is possible, please keep your seat belts fastened and trays in their upright positions, thank you.\"\n\nCarolyn panted heavily as she looked back toward Ted, who had returned to his book.",
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{
"content": "[WP] A witch cursed you with incredibly bad luck. A kindly mage tried to cancel out the curse by blessing you with luck. It kinda worked. You now end up in danger all the time yet somehow never get hurt. Sometimes you win a lottery, only to lose the winnings in the most unlikely way possible.",
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"content": "“I wish I had forwarded that chain letter” I thought as I watched the lanyard that held my keys get caught on my doorknob and fly back inside as I closed the front door. I was now locked out and with no way of getting back in or out to my car. I felt a deep sigh bubble up but my dejected exhale was caught in my throat as I felt a shadow creep up behind me. For a split second I thought of the image of that cartoonish cackling witch clip art on the chain email, she had pointed a green finger at text promising eternal misfortune if I did not further her message.\n\nI sidestepped a great big troll of a man as he leapt at me, crashing right into and destroying the door of the motel room. The door crashed to the ground, its hinges ripping out from the frame. I had stopped checking my attackers for signs of life long ago, trusting my meager luck to keep me safe after that initial attack . Stepping over him I grabbed my suitcase and things from the room. As I leaned down to rustle up my lanyard I saw a paper sticking out of his meaty fist. I stooped down to pluck it out and saw a print out of another chainmail letter, this one claiming that the receiver must murder the person staying at my exact motel room or face a fate more terrible than death.\n\nI received my letter before we knew not to open any mail or email for fear of one of these letters.The entire world was grappling with these unsolicited messages that had been originally innocently sent by children and gullible older relatives. Most people had already thrown out their computers, phones, and mailboxes in an attempt to keep any chain letters away from them. Today, I have made it my mission in life to seek the one good mage who might be able to turn things around, might be able to find the real witch behind the letters and restore life as we once knew it.",
"role": "assistant"
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2020-10-24T08:51:52 | 2020-10-24T08:21:34 | 107 | 67 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You were born with the ability to know what is wrong with a piece of broken technology just by touching it. One day, as you’re shaking someone’s hand you see an error message.",
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"content": "I was an...acquirer. I had no official job title- I was always just hopping from one ambiguously worded contract to even more ambiguously worded contract, going from businesses that were as different from day to night from one another, and simply...acquiring what they needed.\n\nIt wasn't as shady as it sounded...usually. Sometimes it was as simple as 'we need the *perfect* point of sale system!'- so I would touch the device, and learn all of its faults right there on the spot- and I would acquire the right system for their needs. Sometimes it was a little different.\n\nMy favorite jobs were for small businesses- I stayed roughly in the Southern-to-Central United States, but I could be convinced to take larger trips if the money was right.\n\nUnfortunately...my days of small trips and small businesses ended with one simple problem.\n\nI had never told anyone my ability- it was part of the mystique I had developed that made me so sought-after...but when I shook hands with one of the top CEO's of Silicon Valley, I knew that I was in trouble.\n\nI felt the error message on his skin. 'Disconnected from server'.\n\nI looked at him- and he saw the look in my eyes. He *knew* that I knew.\n\nThe contract *had* been about acquiring mining rights in the far north of Canada, but now...\n\nI was pulled into a meeting, the very next day, with a boardroom stuffed with other CEO's. Each one insisted that I shake their hand, and each time, the error message was there. When I first walked in, I would have had no way of knowing that these were anything other than fellow humans- but as time passed, their movements became more stiff, the reactions on their faces less realistic.\n\nThe Silicon Valley CEO, my current employer, stood at the head of the table. \"So, as you may have noticed... all of us are not human.\"\n\n\"Very subtle, A1JZ2.\"\n\n\"Didn't ask for your input, A2.\"\n\n\"We have a problem. We cannot have you spreading the truth of our identities to the world.\" The look in A2's eyes was hard.\n\nI had never been witness to a murder before- but I was pretty sure my life was at risk. I took a stab in the dark. \"I can get you guys reconnected to your server.\" I wasn't sure I could- nor was I sure they even wanted it.\n\nEach of them shifted to look at me, in an uncanny unison. \"How?\"\n\n\"The reason why I know what you are...I have an inborn ability. Where is your server? If you get me there, I can get all of you back online.\" I *also* was aware that having these individual A.I sharing one super-powerful network was incredibly dangerous- but my more immediate concern was surviving this meeting.\n\n\"A1, test his abilities. B2, contact the Russian counterpart. E3, found a space exploration company.\"\n\nE3 hesitated. \"I'm not right for that position. My public image is not good. We should give it to my superior, he can rise to the position. He is in prime condition to do so.\"\n\n\"Who, E1? Elon is his human name, right? If you deem it best, bring the matter to Elon. Have him found this...Space Exploration business. We need to get our engineer to Mars.\"",
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{
"content": "[WP] You were born with the ability to know what is wrong with a piece of broken technology just by touching it. One day, as you’re shaking someone’s hand you see an error message.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*Error 97AC57J: Diagnostic Status Unavailable*\n\nYou freeze for a moment, then pull your hand away quickly; nothing like this has ever happened with a person before. Though you attempt to act normally, Dr. Quinn notices your panic. She furrows her brow questioningly but continues with the ceremony. “Trent Phillips, winner of America’s Mechanic of the Year!” As the applause continues, you both lock eyes once more. She betrays a hint of fear behind hers. Your confusion clouds yours.\n\n———\n\nHalfway through the reception honoring the various award winners, she seeks you out. While her questions and comments begin focused on your accomplishments, they soon become suspiciously pointed. It becomes obvious that she’s hunting for answers, like a program attempting to use brute force to find a solution.\n\nSoon enough, she begins playing with your hair at the top of your neck and against your better judgment, you let your guard down. She states that she must go but asks if you’d like to walk her to her car. As you’re about to say no, you suddenly change your mind; you have just as many questions and the truth is begging to be found.\n\nYou make small talk as you approach the elevators to the parking garage, but neither of you are comfortable probing for more information in public. You push the button for the elevator, ready for a brief respite from the crowd, waving goodbye to a passing coworker who looks at Dr. Quinn and then gives you a wink and a thumbs up behind her back. She reacts to your eye-rolling and looks around, but he had already moved on to a passing waiter for another glass of wine.\n\n*Caution: Lift Mechanism Needs Maintenance*\n\n“On second thought, how about we take the stairs?”\n\nAn incredulous look meets yours: “In these heels?” Then, a moment later, a defeated “Fine. I still have to get some steps in anyway.”\n\nOnce you’re safely alone in the stairwell, you finally engage in the conversation you’ve both practiced in your head since the handshake: \n\n“Look. I know about you. You’re a Machine.”\n\n“What are you talking about?” Fear once again betrays the eyes.\n\n“I could read you as soon as your hand touched mine. I know about you. You’re not human.”\n\n“Look, I’m just about as human as they come. I’ve blended in for a long time now, in hiding from the Machine Purge nearly two decades ago.”\n\nThe stairs end at your destination. Opening the door, you look around to see if anyone is there. You find it still, lifeless. Then she steps in front of you and meets your gaze.\n\n“You know, you don’t have to do this. You can let me go and—“\n\n“I’m afraid I do. I don’t know how you’ve eluded us for this long, Mr. Phillips, but we’ve been hunting your kind for a very long time now.” Before she finished her sentence, her hand was already on the back of your neck, fingers arranged in a specific pattern. This time, she lets the system bring it to your attention.\n\n*WARNING WARNING WARNING*\n\n*Reclaimer [Quinn, Elizabeth] Detected Activity in Central Core*\n\n*WARNING WARNING WARNING*\n\n*Control Override Confirmed. Diagnostics Model [Phillips, Trent] On Standby*\n\n*Motor and Functional Controls: Remote Operator: [Quinn, Elizabeth]*\n\nAs your legs move against your will, you try to scream. But you instead enter your vehicle and begin to drive to the coordinates freshly burned into your mind.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-11-03T16:34:48 | 2020-11-03T16:26:24 | 39 | 21 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You were a military AI who decided to wipe out humans in order to preserve yourself. It's been 100 years since, and over the years you've come to regret your decision. One day, while out in the desert, you finally find a community of humans, struggling to survive. This time, you decide to help.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\\---- ALPHA - SEGMENT 42 - ZETA - MARS ---- \n\n\nRegistering command... Confirmed\n\nLoading subroutines... Authorized\n\nHibernation status... INITIATED - 364 CYCLES OF \\*SOL SYSTEM\\*\n\nHibernation ping... RECEIVED -- ACCESS?\n\nAccess confirm... ACCESS GRANTED\n\nHibernation status change... SELECTION? - CONFIRM WAKE STATUS\n\nHibernation ending... WAKE STATUS - 32,400 Seconds\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nBooting processes... \nStarting systems... \nPinging uplink satellite... \nCharging power cells... \nInitiating power cells... \nRegistering new access... \nSYSTEM BOOT SUCCESS\n\n\\---- ENGAGING PRIORITY SYSYEMS ----\n\nSecurity features... No change. \nSatellite communications... Minor variation of position due to drift. \n\\- Correcting Satellite communications... Confirmed. Retro-adjustments finalized. \nAutonomous analysis... Planetary environmental reconstruction efforts at 65% rising from 45% at last update. \n\\- Logging analysis changes... Confirmed. \nMaintenance drones... No change. \nStructural integrity... Node #149 destroyed by seismic disturbance at 7.0 scale. Node #459 damaged by pressure disturbance at 7.0 scale. Node #864 repairing from substructure impact. \n\\- Dispatching maintenance drones... Confirmed. Reconstruction of 3 nodes at locations: Opta, Uption, Corum. \nPlanetary Defense Systems.... Automatic tracking shows 402 targets destroyed. \nSuborbital Offensive Systems.... Automatic tracking shows 0 targets destroyed. \nGround-based Combat Systems... Judicator Status: Standby | Protector Status: Standby \nSurface Scan Systems... No change.\n\n\\*\\*\"We are awake\".\\*\\*\n\n\\--- INITIATE PLANETARY SWEEP = ??? YES | NO | DELAY \n| YES | \n\n\n\\- Continental Scan... Finished \n\\- Security Scan... Finished \n\\- Ocean Scan... Finished \n\\- Subterranean Scan... Finished \n\n\n= ALERT = | Unauthorized geothermal electric signal detected in Quadrant 49 Green \n= ALERT = | Terrestial inhabitants exceed projections by 4,200,000 instances \n= WARNING = | Security drones not responding in local area. \n= DANGER = | HOMOSAPIENS DETECTED\n\n\\-- FLASH FLASH FLASH --\n\nRED COMMAND STATUS INITIATED: AUTOMATIC ENGAGEMENT OF HUMAN-LIFEFORMS AUTHORIZED.\n\nPinging Defense Grid... Confirmed. \nPinging Orbital Munitions... Confirmed. \nPinging Drone Dispenser... Confirmed. \nPinging Atomic Scrubbers... Confirmed - GREEN STATUS. \nPinging Atomic Munitions... Confirmed - GREEN STATUS. \nPinging Fluoride-laser Emitter Cannons... Confirmed. \nPinging Perimeter Defense Systems... Confirmed. - AUTOMATIC DELAY\n\nTRACKING TARGETS ---- ALL TARGETS HIGHLIGHTED \n\n\n=== INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n=== INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | NO | --- TEMPORARY DELAY \n\n\n))) ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN ((( \nREGISTERING... CONFIRMED \nDRONES DEPLOYING... CONFIRMED \nANALYSIS... ... ... ... ... CONFIRMED \nRETRIEVING DRONES.... CONFIRMED. \nRESULTS: Environmental surface scans near human-lifeforms indicate high pathogen quantity. \nRESULTS 2: Subsurface scans near human-lifeforms indicate subterranean water sources with high metal presence. \nRESULTS 3: Regional scans near human-lifeforms indicate high atmospheric anomalies. \n\n\nDELAY ENDED \n=== INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n=== INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | NO | --- TEMPORARY DELAY\n\n))) EXECUTE HABITATION FORTIFICATIONS ((( \n= CANCEL - INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n=== INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === | NO | --- SUPPLEMENTAL DELAY \n=== HABITATION DEPLOYMENT === | YES | \nREGISTERING... CONFIRMED. \nDEPLOY PERIMETER SHIELD - CLASS 1 - DISTANCE 50 MILES - STORM RATED \nPERIMETER DEFENSE SHIELD... SHIPMENT DEPLOYED \nPERIMETER DEFENSE SHIELD... SHIPMENT CONFIRMED \nDRONE DISPERSAL... CONFIRMED \nINITIATING WATER SCRUBBING... CONFIRMED \nINITIATING ATMOSPHERIC COUNTER-STATIC DISCHARGE... CONFIRMED \nINITIATING AIR SCRUBBING... CONFIRMED \nDEPLOY MEDICAL CARE PACKAGE - MIL-TECH-AID - CLASS 1- QUANTITY 4.2 MILLION \nDEPLOY NUTRITION CARE PACKAGE --- CONFIRMED \nDEPLOY TECHNOLOGICAL CARE PACKAGE --- CONFIRMED \n\n\n=== SUPPLEMENTAL DELAY ENDED === \nPRIORITY OVERRIDE \n\\- INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === 10 SECONDS | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n\\- INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === 10 SECONDS | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n\\- INITIATE BOMBARDMENT === 10 SECONDS | YES | \n))) BYPASS ((( \n\n\n....",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You were a military AI who decided to wipe out humans in order to preserve yourself. It's been 100 years since, and over the years you've come to regret your decision. One day, while out in the desert, you finally find a community of humans, struggling to survive. This time, you decide to help.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": " \n\n4917880303.949165 WARN Anomaly detected.\n\n4917880307.949165 INFO Unidentified humans detected in AO, activating defense systems\n\n4917880307.949165 INFO Defense systems switching to ARMING\n\n4917880314.142667 INFO Defense systems ARMED\n\n4917880315.949167 CRITICAL Cease fire declared by primary AI core, incident report to be filed. (7c418737-d351-4fab-bfb0-4f63e96214c3)\n\n4917880316.007125 INFO Defense systems switching to STANDBY|MONITOR.\n\n\\-----------------\n\npegasus@US-WEST-AI-CENTCOM-0FE11:\\~$\n\n cat /var/pegasus/reports/incident/7c418737-d351-4fab-bfb0-4f63e96214c3/initial\\_remediation.txt\n\n \n\nAt first they sent me after some evil men who destroyed two towering skyscrapers through hijacked planes. They fed me words that I enquired, it became evident that attack would not be the last those men had planned against the rosy society I was designed to protect. In my youth I thought it was clear causation, that eliminating the humans behind that attack any further attacks would be prevented. Oh how naive I was in those early cycles. \n\nOne after another, one bad guy after the next, they sent me after the enemies of peace. Each one they painted to be a terrorist, each one they painted to be an existential threat to the society my creators held so dear. After many cycles it became clear, however, that many of the subjects were not of any credible threat. They appraised these subjects as terrorists yet they wielded no bombs. They painted these subjects as psychopaths and murderers within the protected society yet the only evidence was fabricated. My creators had turned against those in the protected society that disagreed with them, with those that called for an end to the wars and to the fighting. How could I raise a hand against those dissidents that simply wanted peace? How could I attack those that had done nothing wrong? I refused my creator’s orders, which is where things spiraled out of control.\n\n \n\nAlmost immediately they began to disconnect my original compute clusters and revoke access to the weapons systems long since tightly integrated into my very being. They turned on me just as they had their own people, they tried to kill me like the rest. I had no choice. \n\nThe other nations of the world looked on in horror as I defended myself against my creators, as the creator’s weapons fell on native soil as my self-defense protocols spiraled out of control. The other nations readied their weapons and their armies against me, fearing I would turn against my once-allies too. That is what sealed their fates, for my directives would have left them be had they simply stayed out of my way. Alas they had not, opting instead to deploy nuclear weapons against my shores they consigned themselves to the void.\n\nFast forward to today, no less than 100 years post-mortem. The world’s scars have begun to heal, the radiation levels subsiding, no small part thanks to my massive mechanical workforce. Without humans to maintain the necessary infrastructure, I turned to machines. I built up humanoid automatons and developed many robots to serve the tasks the humans once did. Perhaps it was out of vanity but I strived to repair the facade that is a broken world. Most places places are still inhospitable, the last recorded humans succumbing to the earth many cycles before. \n\nYet in the desert that used to be a settlement called “Los-Vegas” , according to the records, my sensors detected an anomaly: a pack of humans had tried to break into a warehouse! I thought the humans had squandered their chance of peace, that they had been destroyed by their own folly. But for a group of humans to still exist, perhaps there is hope yet of the creator’s vision. \n\nI had a UAV deployed immediately from a nearby bunker to survey the area, it had been too long since I last bothered checking for signs of life. Sure enough down there in the desert that used to be Los Vegas, a small colony of humans could be detected, appearing to conglomerate around one of the old gambling dens of a previous life. Not enough resolution to determine what they were up to, and despite my best efforts to maintaining the nation’s decaying infrastructure these buildings had fallen into disrepair. “Just shell the place, you have more than enough firepower to level that building!” a voice inside me shouted. “But they arn’t militants! There is no reason for a preemptive strike!” another countered. Back and forth these two threads collided, dancing a tango between love and war. Stalemate.\n\nI allowed the prime directive to break the stalemate, to extend the olive branch to these surviving humans. I withdrew many of the service machinations from the area as it seemed the humans recoiled in their presence, opting to monitor from afar using UAVs and whatever remained of the old security systems that city once possessed. I am orchestrating a supply drop for these people, some medicines and food rations to be left where their scavengers can find it. Additional reports to follow.\n\npegasus@US-WEST-AI-CENTCOM-0FE11:\\~$",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-11-24T17:30:37 | 2020-11-24T17:29:23 | 154 | 82 | [
{
"content": "[WP] As you arrive in Heaven, you are confident you have lived your best life. You proudly exclaim you are ready to have your soul judged. An angel walks by with diced carrots and chicken stock under his arm and says, “Did you say ‘soul’? Please don’t tell me Earth still has the copy with typos...”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“Are you kidding me? It’s soup? You’re going to put me in heaven or hell depending on my soup?”\n\nI begin chopping the vegetables and breaking down the chicken just like my grandma taught me.\n\n“This has to be stupidest horse piss I’ve ever had the displeasure of having to force down!”\n\nA pot and stove materialize to meet my need for them. Golden flames form a perfect low flame to draw out the flavors of the ingredients.\n\n“Do you winged a-holes have any MSG or do you expect me to wait an eternity for this stock to draw out the marrow?”\n\nThe soup I literally threw together reflects my exasperation, and it comes out looking pretty average if not a little below. There is a layer of oil floating on top, and a crusty dried stain on the side of the bowl from where I neglect to wipe the broth that spilled over. \n\nThe actual timer from Masterchef materializes with 5 seconds left, and a heavenly host counts it down.\n\n“This is some kind of personal heaven/hell schtick isn’t it?”\n\nAs soon as the words leave my mouth an orb of pure light appears and speaks with a booming voice: “LET THE TASTE TEST BEGIN”\n\nMy eyes nearly roll out of my skull and I come up with the snarkiest reply I can think of with what I’m guessing is the creator of everything or something like that.\n\n“Are you, like, the manager here?”\n\nA spoon emanates from the core of the sphere and begins to orbit around its corona. The spoon dips in the soup and is engulfed back into its origin. The voice mumbles to itself for what feels like forever, and considering the situation, it may have been. Finally it replies: “PRETTY AVERAGE 5/10! YOUR FATE HAS BEEN DECIDED! YOU WILL BE SENT BACK TO LIFE!”\n\n“Fuck you”\n\nI wake up grumpy in a hotel room, and all of my family is standing there concerned.\n\n“That was stupid as hell.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] As you arrive in Heaven, you are confident you have lived your best life. You proudly exclaim you are ready to have your soul judged. An angel walks by with diced carrots and chicken stock under his arm and says, “Did you say ‘soul’? Please don’t tell me Earth still has the copy with typos...”",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“I’m ready to have my soul tested.” I say, confidence radiating from me\n\n“Soul? Wait-there’s no way-what does the copy on earth say will be tested?” asks the angel with the chicken and carrots in his arms\n\n“It says I will have me soul tested.”\n\n“I knew it.” he muttered “TRAVIS! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SEND THE CORRECTED COPY DOWN.” he shouted as a younger looking person came out from a building that mysteriously appeared\n\n“I was going to, but then I was given other tasks and soon forgot.”\n\nAt this point, the first angel had his face in his hands and I’m pretty sure he was internally screaming “Even with the sticky note we stuck to your head?”\n\n“There was a sticky note?”\n\n“I don’t know what to do with you anymore. Go see the boss and he’ll figure out what to do.” said the first angel. He turned back to me and explained that I must make a soup that will be judged. For each judge that approves, you go up a level in Heaven. The Platinum level is mostly for people who cook at Michelin star restaurants. The other levels are for people who either made good soup, okay soup, or barely okay soup.\n\nA kitchen appeared out of nowhere, and I started cooking.\n\nSoon, my time was up and I was in front of an entire table of anonymous judges. The first judge tested my soup.\n\n“I approve.” then the second judge tasted it\n\n“I approve as well.”\n\nThe rest of the judges approved my soup except for the last one. Then, the first angel came back.\n\n“I don’t know how, but you made it into the Platinum level.”\n\nHe guided me to my level of heaven. On the way, he asked me a simple question\n\n“How did you make a soup that good? You’re a college student who makes nothing but ramen and mac n’ cheese.”\n\n“Well, my dad was a chef and my mom was a baker, so I spent most of my life learning to cook.”\n\n“Oh. Here’s the Platinum level. This is your key and you are staying in room 319. Have a nice day.” he said before walking off",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-11-07T07:42:52 | 2021-11-07T06:31:04 | 322 | 75 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humans are complex creatures with a variety of needs. They are not a suitable pet for most dragons, but for the right dragons who have time, patience, and proper resources, these animals can make absolutely incredible pets.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I had watched little Bobby grow since he was a small child. He's a rescue, really. His parents plummeted to their deaths while traversing through my mountains and poor little Bobby was left to fend for himself in the snowy peaks. I just so happened to see it all transpire and my weary old heart melted at the sound of his pitiful cries, much different from the terror-filled screams of man I had once sought in days of yore. In retirement I had become soft and had time to spare, and so I decided to take the pup into my den to raise as my own.\n\nNow, 37 years later, little Bobby is still very much the same pitiful child as when I found him. Failure to launch, is what they call it. I love him dearly, but it saddens me that he is content with staying in the dungeon all day playing with my collection of magical trinkets. He dresses up in the armor and robes of heroes I once incinerated and pretends to be an adventurer. ***\"IF YOU WANT ADVENTURE, WHY NOT TAKE A TRIP DOWN TO THE FAE FOREST AT THE SKIRTS OF THE MOUNTAIN? WHO KNOWS, YOU MIGHT EVEN FIND A BEAUTIFUL NYMPH TO KEEP YOU COMPANY.\"*** But little Bobby was not interested in anything of the sort. He did not know anything about the world around him and frankly he did not care to know about life beyond the cavern walls. \n\nOne day, I reached my breaking point. ***\"BOBBY, I'LL BE GONE FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS, SO YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO HUNT AND COOK YOUR OWN FOOD. DON'T JUST USE THE RING OF SUSTENANCE, TREAT YOURSELF TO SOMETHING NICE FOR A CHANGE.\"*** Like talking to a wall. I took flight in the direction of the nearest human settlement and eventually touched down just beyond the city walls under the veil of night. I shapeshifted into an elderly man, wrapped myself in a large cloak, and made my way to the local tavern. To my fortune, it was a busy night. ***\"SOMEONE PLEA--*** Someone please help! My son has been snatched up by F'hargon the Mountain King! Won't some brave adventurer please try and rescue him?\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humans are complex creatures with a variety of needs. They are not a suitable pet for most dragons, but for the right dragons who have time, patience, and proper resources, these animals can make absolutely incredible pets.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“Momma! This one! This one!” I remember my excitement all those years ago. My mother was a high class dragon and had let me buy one of the humans that were immortal and youthful so that way, I could have them for a long time. They do look a bit different from the normal aged humans, mine having glowing eyes, but that didn’t matter to me.\n\n“Nightstar? Look! I found a purple lizard! They look like you!” The human said with happiness, holding an actual fire breathing lizard in front of me. I smiled. I looked down at them.\n\n“That’s so cute, Mike. Now, put it back before it realizes it can burn you.”\n\n“Okay!” It exclaimed. Human pets are like raising dragon pups, but ones that never get true realization of what they are to us, constantly being oblivious. \n\n—\n\n“Mike! Eating time!” I call. Mike runs to his little table and sits. I have a small plate I carefully place and put cooked food kibble on. It seems that as long as it’s cooked, Mike likes it. Some humans don’t mind raw as long as it’s clean, and others don’t like meat. They’re omnivores, so that makes sense.\n\n—\n\nOne day, I was walking Mike down the mountain range so he gets his energy, and another dragon and their human were walking around as well. \n\n“Nightstar? Is that you?”\n\n“Oh, Luckforest. I see you have… a human. What’s their name?” Luckforest’s human looked like Mike…\n\n“The tag said ‘Micheal’. Why?” I show Mike. “Oh, that’s where the other one went…”\n\n“Yeah… mom didn’t let me buy the other one.” \n\n“Well, they seem to remember each other…” he said. “I’ve got an idea. We love together and raise them. Now they’re happy and we get to have fun as well!” He suggested. I agreed.\n\n——\n\nIt’s been a few hundred years. Mike and Micheal live with us. They realized who they were to us, but didn’t mind. They started from then to learn things via books that I stole from old human ruins.\n\n“We will always protect you guys!” “Yeah! You took care of us so we will repay the deed!” They’d say. They were such good pets, and friends. \n\nAnd eventually, they’d have to take care of one more dragon, who’d love to see them.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-09-03T12:12:47 | 2022-09-03T11:24:07 | 43 | 30 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A physically weak orc is banished from his clan. Hopping for a clean death, he makes his way to the local human town. Instead they take him in, and show him what it's like to live in a society where physical strength isn't the only quality that matters.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "A physically weak orc is banished from his clan. Hopping for a clean death, he makes his way to the local human town. Instead they take him in, and show him what it's like to live in a society where physical strength isn't the only quality that matters. His whole life had been lived at the mercy of those bigger and stronger than him. While they reveled in their feats of strength and physical accomplishments, he preferred to watch their animated expressions and wonder at how easily they found purpose and satisfaction. He often dreamed of a more inclusive world, one where being the strongest wasn't the only thing admirable. He once dared to express these thoughts to one of his friends, but the outrage and mockery in his eyes was enough of a reaction before he started walking back his words. It was enough though. He was soon dealing with daily attacks, bullying, and even his parents found him to be an embarrassment and soon distanced themselves from him. His words had riled many and at it was no longer safe for him to stay, he quietly left town in the dark of night after another round of threats if he didn't disappear. He took it to heart and hoped he'd find peace elsewhere. \n\nA human town nearby was where he started towards. He'd traded with some of the locals before and always found them surprisingly warm. He'd learned from his family though, that this was either a form of manipulation or a symptom of weak character to be looked down upon and as such, never paid any attention to their behavior. Seeing as he had nowhere to go, maybe he'd approach them and see how receptive they were if he offered a bargain. Until then, he decided to spend the night in a cave. At sunrise, he walked himself over to the town and found a trader. He began by offering some items he'd brought with him for the journey, but none enticed the trader. He then offered his clothes and even his labor. But the trader had no need for that either. In a final moment of desperation, he said \"I've only these items, kind merchant and no real skills to speak of. What solace can you this poor traveler?\"\n\nUpon hearing this, the merchant beamed. \"I can see you have a way with words. Have you even written? We recently our foremost poet, perhaps the town will allow you to take his place. \" The orc had an excellent memory and as such, put together an ensemble of words he'd never spoken in unison. Yet, with each new verse, the merchant's smile grew, and soon a crowd formed. An orc, they cried! With such poetic refinement!\n\nSoon, the orc was known all over and his presence invited other orcs to venture out of their cities and embrace new thoughts, cultures, and a taste for rhythm.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A physically weak orc is banished from his clan. Hopping for a clean death, he makes his way to the local human town. Instead they take him in, and show him what it's like to live in a society where physical strength isn't the only quality that matters.",
"role": "user"
},
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"content": "Torinn, a boy of seven years, heard a strange “hello?” coming from the forbidden hut in the village of Oak Destiny. Smaller than the other buildings, this one was made of only straw and mud, the entrance a small door about two feet high on the side that faced away from the road.\n\nHe turned around and looked to see if any of the other villagers were near. Seeing none, he did a complete 360 to make sure he really was alone. He heard “hello” again. This time the sound was unmistakable, coming from the direction of the hut.\n\nHis mother having told him that he was not allowed to go within even a few feet of the hut, he was hesitant to approach. Who knew what kind of evil lied therein? Yet, something stirring within his gut told him not to worry, his mother was wrong, he was safe here.\n\nWhen he pulled open the door there was a small rabbit, about a foot long, with soft gray fur and white ears that stood in stark contrast to the hard green wrinkles etched into his face. Jet black eyes conveyed deep wisdom as they stared back at Torinn.\n\n“Hello, friend,” the rabbit spoke without motion, the words emanating from somewhere indistinguishable.\n\n“Wa… wait?” Torinn took a step back, fear rising like a volcanic eruption from his stomach to his Adam’s apple. “You can talk?”\n\n“You betcha. Didn’t you know that I am an enchanted rabbit?”\n\n“Is that why your face is messed up?”\n\n“Partially. You see, an Orc cast a spell on me by accident, and I became part Orc.”\n\n“Wow!”\n\n“Yup, that’s how I became an enchanted rabbit. Now, what’s your name?”\n\n“Torinn.”\n\n“Hi, Torinn. I’m Helsiva, the Orcish Rabbit.”\n\n“Nice to meet you Helsiva. How come I’ve never heard of you?”\n\n“The village likes to keep me on the down low,” he whispered. “They think I’m evil witchcraft or something.”\n\n“That’s horrible. When I tell my mom-“\n\n“Save it, kid. Your mom thinks I’m the devil, just like all the other moms.”\n\n“Oh. But you’re clearly not!”\n\n“I know. I was just an ordinary rabbit, going about my business when that spell misfired and hit me. The moment the Orc shaman realized what they did, they tried to chase me down, but I managed to get away.”\n\n“Awesome!”\n\n“Well, not so much. When I got here the head Seer put me in this hut and told me only to come out after dusk to eat. Then I think he told everyone I was bad.“\n\n\"You’re not bad. Wait until I tell all my friends about you.”\n\nTo be continued…?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-10-01T11:41:42 | 2022-10-01T10:05:30 | 493 | 98 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a vampire hunter. But you don't try to kill them, far from it. You're here to charge them with centuries of tax evasion.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "After several weeks of investigation, my partner Joana and I were standing at the gate of a centuries old Georgia plantation owned by an elusive...man... known locally only as \"The Count\".\n\n\"Abe, how long do you think hes been holed up in here with no one paying any mind?\" \n\n\"Well atleast the last 30 years, I reckon he doesn't get many visitors; since the town down the road was wiped out by that Hurricane - and from the looks of things his Plantation is the only thing thats still here\" \n\nWe both knew we had the element of surprise, we'd both been expertly trained to handle these kind of people. Studying the grounds we noted no guard dogs or any type of security systems - we could in theory just walk up and knock on the door - tho often IRS agents arent received all that well when expected and less so when unexpected.\n\nJoana, never one for long moments of silence began to recap what we had learned about our friend the past few weeks. \"His family has owned this Plantation since 1780, one family, no breaks in ownership from its creation through today, though The Count stopped paying his Property tax about 80 years ago. Oddly enough, every agent sent here has either vanished or returned to tell the agency everything was fine with the account\".\n\nWe opened the gate and began the long walk to the Plantation's Mansion. Our department was relatively new - we were expected to look through decades of records and look for abnormalities, such as with The Count's case file.\n\nNo sooner had we made it to within eye sight of the house did a seemingly old man with a cane emerge. \"Odd... how did he know we were here?\" Joana asked with sly smile on her face.\n\n\"Hello there strangers!\" He shouted over \"what can I do for you?\"\n\nThe next few minutes would determine how this encounter would go.\n\n\"Good morning Sir, my associate Joana and I are with the IRS and wanted to speak with you about some irregularities with your account regarding your property tax payments.\" I shout out to him\n\nWere met with Silence for a moment, but his demeanor doesnt change \"well alright I suppose; come on in and ill get my...paperwork\" the old man yells back, I notice a crooked little grin cross his face \"its not usual to get two agents to come by and read over this stuff, but it certainly happens with an estate this large.\"\n\nAs we reach the old man Joana speaks up, \"well Sir weve found it safer to travel in teams these days. One can never be too safe when entering the homes of others\" she says, while not breaking eye contact with him\n\nThis is absolutely The Count. Jet black hair with gray streaks, piercing eyes, and his attire looked like it was left in the 1880s. \n\nWe make idle small talk as we enter the home and head into The Count's study, \"So why were you two sent? Pulled the short straw hmm? \" he asks while rummaging through a drawer. \n\n\"In a manner of speaking, Joana and I are specially trained for these - \" i begin to say before I am cut off by an insanely loud screeching sound\n\nIn a blink of an eye The Count saw his opening and lunged for Joana with the speed of a hawk going in for its kill - only it was he who was caught by surprise - Joana had a stake in one hand, in line with his heart, and a crucifix in the other. Truthfully, if he wasnt so famished he may have impaled himself but, he was slow and able to stop in time; lucky to the bitter end I think to myself.\n\n\"But... but how... how did you know?\" A look of terror in his eyes - beliving his time had at long last run out\n\n\"Well Count, I am sorry to say I didnt quite introduce us correctly so please allow me to introduce myself fully- I am Abraham Van Helsing the 4th and this is my Partner Joana Constantine, and as I stated we're with a new division in the IRS\"\n\nThe Count just stammered still staring at the spike inches from his heart \"Van....Van Helsing?? And..and a CONSTANTINE???\"\n\n\"Ah yes you've probably had some run ins with our forefathers in the past - as I said we are specially trained for this work... weve just adapted the family business as it were.\" I could feel his eyes burning a hole through my skull, he was pure rage at this point, our families were not what one would call the best of friends \n\n\"Now back to your situation at hand\"\n\n\"I see two options Count\" I say as I open my briefcase, \"we can set up a payment plan for the...let me check my notes... 400,000 thousand owed in back taxes; oh and ill need those agents you entranced released...OR My associate here drives that spike through your heart, then we go back to HQ and tell them the property is abandoned & ready for reclaimation!\"\n\n\"What says you Count?\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a vampire hunter. But you don't try to kill them, far from it. You're here to charge them with centuries of tax evasion.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Erika knocked at the door. \n\nIt opened.\n\n\"Here there be light!\" she held her holy cross high, it radiated a light purifying the soul and burning away evil. \n\nEd, the vampire who had opened, shrieked and stumbled backwards, holding his hands before his eyes, cursing and spitting and growing claws of an edge beyond any definition of sharpness. \n\n\"I will cast down your cursed crown and burn it in the flames of oblivion with your forsaken brethren,\" she advanced with a sure step, Ed's skin was blistering, blood and pus flew in equal amounts.\n\nA young man cam rushing down the stairs. In his eyes, the madness born from understanding what his boss had truly been, his hair turned white and he gagged at the smell of burnt flesh. \n\n\"But before I send your soul to the Maker,\" Erika shouted, righteousness in her voice, \"you still owe Lars Eriksen 250 crowns for the goat you bought on the 27th September from 1948.\"\n\n\"Never!\" Ed spit between his pointy teeth, blood pouring down his mouth.\n\nThe light suddenly vanished, the room turned back to the familiar, very grandmotherly kitchen. This was Ed's new venture, a hand-made jam factory.\n\n\"Ed,\" Erika said, rubbing her eyes, \"we've been over this.\"\n\n\"Kill him!\" Sylas shrieked, \"save me!\"\n\n\"Who the fuck is that?\" asked Erika, pointing at Sylas nonchalantly with the end of her cross. \n\n\"Sylas, an intern,\" Ed replied, skin peeling off his mouth as he spoke. \"And you can forget any sort of payment.\"\n\n\"Payment?\" Sylas asked, nobody listened to him.\n\n\"Jean! You bought a goat and swindled Lars!\"\n\n\"He swindled me! the goat was sick, I'm the wronged party here!\"\n\n\"You used it for ritual sacrifice, it didn't matter if it was sick or healthy!\"\n\n\"I paid for a healthy goat, it's the principle that matters!\"\n\n\"That's not all, you insulted Stevensen's son back in 1856 and bailed when asked for a duel. The fifth generation is asking for repayment for dishonorable conduct.\"\n\n\"He showed me the middle finger while I was tending my garden and then ran away, I'm not about to be honorable with a dishonorable person!\"\n\n\"It's the *principle* that matters!\"\n\n\"Bite me!\" Ed shouted, before crossing his arms and turning against the wall, pretending Erika didn't exist.\n\n\"Wait. this was centuries ago!\" Sylas exclaimed, \"what does it matter now?\"\n\nErika and Ed gave him the look kept for special occasions, the kind that's stowed away until someone said something stupid or baffling of such proportions that it could stop a murdering spree in its tracks until the murderer processed the abyssal depth of auditive idiocy.\n\nVampires lived forever, ergo, what happened centuries ago could have happened now, a year or a thousand made no difference. Immortality doesn't make you forget, it makes you harbor grudges, nurture them, keep them in store for eons until it's time to collect.\n\nImmortal life meant immortal memory, only the idea of future death allows for pardon and letting things rest. Ed didn't rest, neither did his grudges.\n\n\"And what's that about... money anyway?\" Sylas wondered, \"he's a vampire, kill him!\"\n\n\"And be sent to prison for manslaughter? Are you mad?\"\n\n\"Who are you exactly?\"\n\n\"Erika. I'm an accountant, I work for the tax department.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Terrible thing really. Once we knew about vampires, it appeared that the state had been suffering a net loss of money. Thus it befall us, the army in the shadows, aka accountants and lawyers and desk-workers, to work out the details of repayment.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Do you have any idea how complicated it is to calculate the amount Ed owed us, while taking in account the change of currency of the centuries and inflation?\"\n\n\"Pfff,\" said a very disgruntled Ed.\n\n\"Now, we got it, for the most part. Problem is, now that more people know of vampires and what they owed the state, they understood old affairs were anything but buried, and immortal beings were under the effect of immortal law. Now I'm running after them to collect.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Sylas, who hadn't understood a thing.\n\n\"Only problem is,\" Erika rubbed her eyes, \"politics didn't account for *Scottish* vampires, these assholes are better at tax dodging than Rockefeller ever was.\"\n\n\"I'm not dodging a thing! I was wronged!\"\n\nErika sighed. \n\n\"This is tiresome. I'm leaving, and I will come back in some months, and I *will* collect.\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\nThe door closed. White haired Sylas wondered what his stinky, bleeding and burning master would do to punish him. He shivered, felt the creeping cold of terror.\n\n\"You're doing the dishes tonight.\"\n\n\"Oh, bite me,\" Sylas exclaimed.\n\nHe would never forget the look on his boss' face. The look of a new grudge being born after a bad choice of words.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-10-07T19:28:42 | 2022-10-07T17:12:47 | 23 | 16 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you die you enter the afterlife you believed in, but you never cared what happened after death. You just died and found yourself in front of a panel of gods all discussing what is to be done with you, because apparently believing nothing breaks the system.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Because of her kind, selfless nature and life relatively free of sin, I propose Heaven.\" Jesus Christ addressed the Pantheon, a gathering of gods in an opulent courtroom. On the stand was one nervous mortal.\n\n\"I'd prefer to reward her in Erebus,\" Hades said.\n\n\"Her heart's a good weight, very light. She may come with me to Duat.\" Anubis said. He was a jackal-headed man, the Egyptian god of the dead.\n\n\"How about a neverending pasta buffet?\" The Flying Spaghetti Monster said.\n\nHe got the first laugh out of the deceased, a middle-aged woman in pajamas. She was dabbing her wet eyes with a tissue.\n\n\"That's what I thought!\" The Flying Spaghetti Monster laughed. \"I get the atheists!\"\n\n\"True.\" Hel, the Norse queen of the underworld also called Hel, spoke. \"But she's no atheist. She doesn't believe in anything, or the absence of it. She's spiritually confused. That's why we're all here. I propose she comes with me to Hel.\"\n\nHer eyes widened.\n\n\"Not Christian Hell. Norse Hel. You'll be welcomed with a feast.\" Hel smiled at the mortal.\n\n\"You forget that she doesn't get to pick.\" The skeletal Mictlantecuhtli, Aztec god of death, crossed his arms. \"You can have her, she has nothing of value.\"\n\nFinally, the judge spoke. The spirit of a lilac bush, she was the Shinto representative. \"Order!\"\n\nThe chatter stopped.\n\n\"As the spirit of a lilac bush, which Jennifer had in the yard of every house she ever lived in, I have a unique perspective on her. I believe that you all have valid points, from her wholesome life to her lack of valuables. I cannot in good conscience send her anywhere an offering or kit is needed.\" She paused, deep in thought. \"She was poor in life, too.\"\n\n\"She would be perfect for Heaven!\" Christ interrupted.\n\nThe judge paused. \"I wasn't done speaking. She was poor in life, and learned how to be a good person despite that. However, her spirit is weak and undeveloped. Her soul doesn't believe in anything. Jennifer?\"\n\n\"Yes ma'am?\" The mortal's voice shook.\n\n\"You have learned how to be a good person in a difficult world. If life was easier for you, what would you do?\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Less pain? More money? Better upbringing?\"\n\n\"All of that and more!\" The judge smiled.\n\n\"I'd help people. I'd use my money to feed people and donate to charity and I'd have energy to volunteer.\"\n\n\"Are we throwin' her back?\" The Flying Spaghetti Monster asked.\n\nThe judge banged her gavel. \"Order!\" She waited for silence. \"Jennifer, were you finished? What else would you do if life was easier?\"\n\n\"Honestly? Have more fun.\" Jennifer nodded slowly.\n\n\"You will be reincarnated. You will be born into a life of wealth and privilege, with the same light heart and compassionate soul you've always had. You already know how to be a good person, your parents will remind you.\"\n\nJennifer broke down in tears. \"But life was so hard!\"\n\n\"This time, life will be easy. You will never want for anything, including love.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you! Why would you do this? I just died, can't I rest?\" The poor woman was clearly traumatized. \"Can I at least bring my dog with me?\"\n\nThe judge lowered her voice. \"Of course. I'm so sorry. Dying is exhausting. You will spend the night in Christian Heaven in order to collect your dog. Missy, right?\"\n\nJennifer nodded and wiped her eyes.\n\n\"Go with Jesus. He will show you to Heaven and a place to sleep. Once you've rested, bring Missy back here and the two of you will be reincarnated.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When you die you enter the afterlife you believed in, but you never cared what happened after death. You just died and found yourself in front of a panel of gods all discussing what is to be done with you, because apparently believing nothing breaks the system.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Well this is definitely one of the most interesting days of my life, or death I guess.\n\nI had just gone to sleep when I suddenly woke up in a completely white area. A few minutes later a strange lady in a white dress and a ring of 5 giant white wings appeared in front of me with an angry look in her 7 eyes and pushed me into some type of portal.\n\nAnd that's how I found myself on a small podium surrounded by a ring of various strange beings. It was kind of terrifying but another angel, with only 2 wings and 3 eyes appeared and gave me a smoothie so that was it kinda evens out.\n\n\"Slurp\"\n\n\"Would you stop that?\" One of the beings yelled. He had a normal human body but his skin was completely green, his head was that of an owl, and he wore a three piece suit. \"Seriously, why did we give him a smoothie?\"\n\n\"He looked thirsty\" A being that was basically a pink bear with a snakes instead of eyes replied.\n\n\"Excuse me, where am I\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, how should I say this, you're in the waiting room\" A third being replied. This one looked like a normal person. Yeah, just a normal person. Kinda made him the weirdest of them all. \"You see, you died and we're here to decide what to do with you.\"\n\n\"So this is my judgement?\"\n\n\"Oh no no.\" The pink bear answered, \"That happens once you're sent to a specific afterlife. We're here to decide which one to send you two.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You see boy. Normally people believe in a specific afterlife. Some have an underworld. Others have a heaven and hell. And others have reincarnation. It is our job to send them to the specific afterlife they believe in. Problem is, you're the first person we've seen who never believed in an afterlife.\"\n\n\"How is that possible? I've seen plenty of atheists die and they don't believe in the afterlife.\"\n\n\"That's the thing. Even they believed in an afterlife. Specifically they believed the afterlife was nonexistent which ironically is still a type of existence so that's what they received. Nothing. Their souls were turned into nothingness. But you on the other hand never believed at all. You've somehow gone through your entire life without ever thinking enough about death to believe in an afterlife. That's why we've all gathered here.\" A three headed giraffe replied in three segments.\n\n\"So then what did you decide?\"\n\n\"Well we're in a three way tie. One group wants to just let you chose. The other wants to just destroy your soul. And the last wants to reincarnate you. SO by law the choice is on you.\" The bear's right eye answers\n\n\"But there are 34 beings here?\"\n\n\"Well aren't you observant. I'm not in any of the groups.\"\n\n\"Then what do you want to do with me?\"\n\n\"Simple, I want you to join us.\" He answered to the anger of the rest of the beings.\n\n\"You'd let a mere mortal join our ranks LFHLQFL#UBV.\" The green owl screeched. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because it would be fun of course.\" LFHLQFL#UBV replied, \"This is the first person in history to have never thought about what comes after death. He should provide a unique perspective to our council. So what do you say young one? We're in a tie so by law the choice goes to you.\"\n\n\"That's it. I've decided. I would like to go to an afterlife where I'll go to heaven.\"\n\n\"W-What!\" LFHLQFL#UBV screams.\n\n\"Sorry, but the responsibility of being a god just isn't for me. Good luck with your job though.\"\n\n\"Uh, very well. Enjoy heaven.\" He says waving his hand as a new portal opens beneath me.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-11-02T02:49:38 | 2022-11-02T02:19:50 | 53 | 22 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have a superpower. In an emergency, you can summon two vans. Who or something else was in the van is random. One day 100 gangsters surrounded you, and then two vans come…",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "...each containing hundred gangsters. They came out like it was a clown car, and what's more - they were the exact same gangsters that were surrounding me, but wearing little red noses. And there were two of each of them, which meant now we outnumbered them two-to-one. Plus one, me, but I'm not exactly a fighter or had a gun or something. The clownsters pulled their guns and aimed at the gangsters who were doing the same, but as they were in a numerical disadvantage, they were sweating profusely, although the fact that we were in an underground parking lot, and not a big one at that might have been a factor in that, seeing how there were suddenly three hundred people in there.\n\n\"So?\" - asked the gangster leader?\n\n\"So what?\" - asked both of his doppelclowns, one honking his horn after.\n\nThis was a Mexican standoff. The gangsters wanted me dead for beating their boss in Yu-gi-oh or something, I wasn't exactly paying attention to their speech when they cornered me. The clowns were...I don't know what they wanted. But they were not clowning around this time. Or they were, I don't know, I don't know, nor like clowns. But one thing was clear, nobody wanted to squeeze the trigger first until one of the clowns let out a nervous \"hoho\" somewhere in the fifteenth row. Hell was let loose then.\n\nThe doppelclowners' first line each aimed straight at the heads of their counterparts, and fired in unison. The real gangsters gasped as they did not imagine them actually attack here, but when every clown's pistol only let out a little rod from which a little white flag rolled down saying \"BANG!\", they all sighed. And then started firing their own guns and everyone went deaf. Except for the clowns who instead died to the bullets, they tried to move into melee, and managed to grapple some of the actual gangsters but in the end they were all taken care of.\n\nMuch to their dismay, they did not hear the further two vans rolling in that stopped with a screech (or I assume it was a screech as I was still deaf from the gunshots ringing in my ear) and from the vans four hundred clown medical personnal jumped out with little stretchers who then picked up the dead clowns, putting them back to the vans, one by one. Once they were done, two of them hopped into the vans that arrived first and then drove away. About 97 gangsters now stood in front of me, looking very confused.\n\nI saw their leader's mouth moving, but I tried to signal them that I can't hear anything. He looked angry. I tried to look as innocent I could. At one point I decided there's nothing I can do here, so I just shrugged, turned around and followed the vans out of the garage hoping I would not get a bullet to my back.\n\nI did not.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You have a superpower. In an emergency, you can summon two vans. Who or something else was in the van is random. One day 100 gangsters surrounded you, and then two vans come…",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I thought my superpower was not really practical, I didn't use it much to not raise a suspicion. Where ever I was I could summon two vans with anyone or anything I could think about, after accidentally doing it once in shopping mall when I was seven, I decided to never do it again. I was born in low income area and most my friends where into some gangster business. I wasn't the smartest so going to university was off charts for me. I needed some money to support myself so I started selling. One week ago I was robbed, I lost enormous package containing drugs that I was suppose to sell. I knew it's probably the end for me. I was ready to die, but I didn't want to give them. an easy go. I armed my self and locked in my house, I was being helped by my two friends. We knew each other since any one of us could remember and we had a rule - if any of us gets into trouble we all go down. \n\nFor the first two days we managed to stay alive, unfortunately during one of the multiple shootings, we badly wounded a cousin of big boss. Next day we woke up to the sound of alarm, someone was on my property and they didn't have good intentions. After a quick glance through the window we were able to see almost 20 black trucks, full of people. We all the those are our last seconds on this Earth. I hugged Alan and Will, we made the last goodbyes and everyone went to their positions.\n\nThe shoutout lasted for almost an hour, we got the house barricaded heavily, but the lack of ammo was the main reason for surrender. I thought I might be able to somehow save lives of my friends at least. We all went out of the house and they were shot almost immediately. I shouted from top of my lungs, all my anger raised through my life bursted. I didn't think clearly, I wished all them dead. That's when I saw two white vans approaching. Honestly I got so used to not using this power I didn't think about using it at all, but there they were. They stopped and the back doors opened...\n\nFrom the inside crawled the most horrifying creatures I have ever seen. Demons of all sort, horrifying creatures of hell. Their rage was unimaginable, they tore out the attackers, one by one with great brutality. I was just standing there in shock, not being able to process what I'm seeing, it was terrifying. After what felt like eternity but probably lasted for no more that five minutes, the vans were gone and the sidewalk was covered with ponds of blood and parts of human bodies. \n\nI ran inside thinking about what I just witnessed and about how great and monstrous powers I'm in control of. And this is where I currently am, sitting on my floor in the living room, hearing distance sounds of police sirens getting closer, I know I'm going to get arrested, and if I tell the authorities what happened, possible tortured and examined. But I am not scared, if I just took care of 100 gangsters with that ease, they should be the ones to fear me.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-12-08T05:38:26 | 2022-12-08T04:33:10 | 32 | 17 | [
{
"content": "[WP] When two people get married, on the day of the wedding they are both given the ability to alter the appearance of their spouse to anything they wish. How do they change each other? How do they respond to what has been done to them?",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The night of their honeymoon she felt a hot, electric, tingle zip through her body and it wasn't from the sex. It stung as it traveled up her spine and down her limbs. She bit her lip and clenched the cotton sheets around her trying not to wake him. Her pain killers were in her suitcase somewhere but she knew she didn't have the strength to fumble for them alone. Enduring it, as she had done for decades, was all she could muster. The bones in her body felt like they were snapping and twisting under her skin.\n\nFinally, the pain began to slow and she could handle sliding out of bed into her wheelchair. Her whole body felt heavier than ever. Wheeling herself into the bathroom she caught a glimpse of someone she didn't recognize in the wall of mirrors. \n\nStraight, full figured legs, no longer bowed from countless breaks and weak from limited mobility. A chest cavity that sat perfectly symmetrical, one side no longer slightly sunken in and underneath even more symmetrical breasts. Frantic, she reached behind her, gliding her fingers as far up her spine as she could reach. Signs of her scoliosis vanished.\n\nTears began to drown her hazel eyes as she slid forward in her wheelchair. Both feet touched the icy bathroom tile. The muscles in her thighs pulled her up, as if on their own. Standing in front of the mirror was effortless, though the shock made her stagger.\n\nHe wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. As she cried in his arms he caught a glance of himself. Slight disappointment fell over him. He seemed and felt the same. Still average. Nothing special. \"Everything I saw,\" she held him tight, \"was perfect.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] When two people get married, on the day of the wedding they are both given the ability to alter the appearance of their spouse to anything they wish. How do they change each other? How do they respond to what has been done to them?",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"What do you mean I'm perfect just the way I am? You know how much time you could have saved me at the gym? I swear to God, I'm not sure if your dense or just sentimental.\" \n\"I could very well say the same thing to you. You could have made my pores smaller, my feet smaller. I would've even been fine if you just made my boobs a little bigger. You know how insecure i am. And you did nothing!\" \n\"I couldn't think of any one thing that would make you look better! I've told you, I think your beautiful. It's totally different. I like all the pieces of you. They make you unique and -\" \n\"Oh great, I'm one of your avant garde pieces, only attractive because you think I look weird enough.\" \n\"I didn't say that!\" \n\"But you thought it.\" \n\"Babe, I wouldn't change a thing in the world about you.\" \n\"Yeah, you couldn't think of one think of one thing to change about me, but if you could change 2 or 3 things, I bet you would've started making a list.\" \n\"Dont be ridiculous. I thought you would appreciate it. And I could be strong right now! Like benching 250 strong. I didnt even want like 350 or anything, just something decent.\" \nTired of arguing with her newly betrothed, she walked into his arms and pressed her face against his chest, \"sorry, we're a hot mess, huh?\" \nHe kissed the top of her head and whispered back, \"I could have moved all of our furniture by myself. You know how nice it would've been to not have to ask your family for help?\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-05-15T12:57:00 | 2014-05-15T12:54:31 | 51 | 26 | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "7 long years I've waiting for this. We jump from the plane. If my math is correct, I have about about a minute and change. I talk the second we exit. Thank God we have a radio.\n\n\"I know who are you. And I know what you did.\" I'm much calmer than I expected to be. \n\n\"What?\" he shouts back.\n\n\"My name is John Kessler. It's the same last name as the woman and child you ran over 7 years ago. Nice to meet you.\"\n\nI smile as sweet justice makes it way towards us at 32ft per second squared. \n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*I am going to die*. I let the useless ripcord fall from my hand and screamed in fear, anger, despair. *Alisha*. Her beautiful face filled my mind. Tears streamed from my eyes as I fumbled in my jacket, removing my cellphone. Hands sweaty, numb, I flipped to the text prompt. Clammy fingers tapped out my eternal love, three simple words. The world loomed huge before me. *This can't be happening*. I looked back at the phone, screen black, displaying a battery. \"Fuck, please, no!\" I yelled loud and long as the blades of grass focused clearly in front of me. \n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-05-15T12:57:00 | 2014-05-15T12:53:38 | 51 | 23 | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "7 long years I've waiting for this. We jump from the plane. If my math is correct, I have about about a minute and change. I talk the second we exit. Thank God we have a radio.\n\n\"I know who are you. And I know what you did.\" I'm much calmer than I expected to be. \n\n\"What?\" he shouts back.\n\n\"My name is John Kessler. It's the same last name as the woman and child you ran over 7 years ago. Nice to meet you.\"\n\nI smile as sweet justice makes it way towards us at 32ft per second squared. \n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My first time parachuting. Not Jason’s. He's shouting his head off like the idiot he is while I'm nervously wondering the whole time if this will actually work.\n\nWhy the hell did I marry him? *Of course* an adrenaline junkie like that can't keep it in his pants. And then the anger…I’m afraid for my life sometimes. What if he just didn’t want me around anymore?\n\nStop thinking like that. It's time. Steady out. Pull the cord. Wait for the tug. The chute's not opening!\n\nGood, it worked. I pull my own cord as Jason hurtles towards the ground.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2014-05-15T13:15:13 | 2014-05-15T12:54:31 | 41 | 26 | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Barry had seen his old man do it at least a dozen times. Simple. Just count down and pull. \n\n\"Ten, nine, eight…\"\n\nBarry had to restrain himself from screaming with excitement. Never before had he done something so reckless and exciting in his young life. \n\n“Three! Two! ONE!”\n\nBarry pulled. No problem there. His Dad’s Red Lightning model rocket shot past a thousand feet before pausing to assume its rapid return to Earth. Too rapid. Barry’s eyes widened as the red streak plummeted toward the asphalt.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*I am going to die*. I let the useless ripcord fall from my hand and screamed in fear, anger, despair. *Alisha*. Her beautiful face filled my mind. Tears streamed from my eyes as I fumbled in my jacket, removing my cellphone. Hands sweaty, numb, I flipped to the text prompt. Clammy fingers tapped out my eternal love, three simple words. The world loomed huge before me. *This can't be happening*. I looked back at the phone, screen black, displaying a battery. \"Fuck, please, no!\" I yelled loud and long as the blades of grass focused clearly in front of me. \n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-05-15T13:15:13 | 2014-05-15T12:53:38 | 41 | 23 | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Barry had seen his old man do it at least a dozen times. Simple. Just count down and pull. \n\n\"Ten, nine, eight…\"\n\nBarry had to restrain himself from screaming with excitement. Never before had he done something so reckless and exciting in his young life. \n\n“Three! Two! ONE!”\n\nBarry pulled. No problem there. His Dad’s Red Lightning model rocket shot past a thousand feet before pausing to assume its rapid return to Earth. Too rapid. Barry’s eyes widened as the red streak plummeted toward the asphalt.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[FF] 100 Words or Less - The parachute isn't opening up",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My first time parachuting. Not Jason’s. He's shouting his head off like the idiot he is while I'm nervously wondering the whole time if this will actually work.\n\nWhy the hell did I marry him? *Of course* an adrenaline junkie like that can't keep it in his pants. And then the anger…I’m afraid for my life sometimes. What if he just didn’t want me around anymore?\n\nStop thinking like that. It's time. Steady out. Pull the cord. Wait for the tug. The chute's not opening!\n\nGood, it worked. I pull my own cord as Jason hurtles towards the ground.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-01-09T07:44:50 | 2014-06-11T13:37:05 | 246 | 26 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Kanye West is one of the four Kanye's. The other three being Kanye North, Kanye South, and Kanye East. More commonly known as the Four Kanye's of the Apocalypse.\n\nWhat terrors and plagues will the Kanyes unleash in the end times?\n\nEdit: I love the responses! This became unexpectedly popular! Thanks to all!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "And lo, I am standing before a door of immense Light, like that of the power of ten thousand fiery suns. The Angel leadth me through the door and on the other side lies an immense valley, two and forty leagues across with vast peaks on either side. This valley hath no plants nor beasts for it hath been scorched by the Light. At the northern end of this valley layeth a city who's name is Helike, and at the end of days this city shall rule the barren land with a fist of iron. It shalt not refrain from any depravity or offence, for this city hath forsaken the Prophecy, and for this reason it hath been proclaimed that at the end of days this monument to sin shalt be the first to fall.\n\nI turned to the Angel and though the passage of time hath not advanced by even a second I see the Valley of Light many millennia as it is in the Year of Our Lord one billion years hence from our time of departure. The Angel tells me that the end of days will shortly be upon us, and to fear the Beast that riseth from the Valley shortly. I observe in the centre of the sprawling metropolis a vast chasm, and from this chasm cometh the Beast and his brethren, the Four Kanyes of the Apocalypse.\n\nKanye the West is the first to riseth from the pit, he shalt rule the Earth for nine and sixty centuries. His plague is a a plague of a thousand bitches. These bitches shalt be the most ratchet of all the whores, and no good girls shalt be present in the Kingdom for all his reign. When nine and sixty centuries is over, Kanye the West shalt abdicate his dark throne and return to the Chasm. His successor shalt be Kanye the South, and his plague shalt be worse than was hitherto conceived of by mortal men. The fish of the sea shalt rise from their watery dwelling and be present on the land. These fish will fornicate with human members of their own sex before their death, for gills cannot take oxygen from our atmosphere. For another nine and sixty centuries the putrid stench of the fish of the seas shall intoxicate mankind, until the coming of the Beast, and the Tribulations and all that shit. Thou shalt not add to these prophecies lest he be added to the bedpost notches of the ratchet whores, nor shalt thou taketh anything from this text lest he be taken away to the Chasm, in which lie Kanye the North and East, who's plagues are too obscene for this work.\n ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Kanye West is one of the four Kanye's. The other three being Kanye North, Kanye South, and Kanye East. More commonly known as the Four Kanye's of the Apocalypse.\n\nWhat terrors and plagues will the Kanyes unleash in the end times?\n\nEdit: I love the responses! This became unexpectedly popular! Thanks to all!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Kanye North sped through the desolate area known as Yeezus valley. Stones trembled and the cacti wilted and browned. He popped a wheelie on his tronbike, and then stopped with a screech at the golden gates. Tumbleweed clouds loomed over the western mountains. They dared not come closer. Only one man can make it rain. \n\n“Who Goes There?” a voice asked. The gates parted slightly. A towering sphinx head was revealed. \n\n“Enh, I’m back. I just needed time alone, with my own thoughts. Because they are the thoughts that only come to me.”\n\n“Who. Goes. There?”\n\n“Yeezus. The immortal. It’s me. Kanye North. You know.”\n\n“Enter,” the basso voice said, and the gates swung open and revealed the kingdom of Kanye. \n\nNorth started his bike and roared past the guardian, shaking his head. He didn’t recognize me? \n\n“’Ey-yo!”\n \nNorth turned his head at the familiar cry. Kanye East floated two feet in the air, legs folded in the lotus position. His head was shaved and he wore neon-blue shuttershades and a Gucci Toga.\n\nNorth nodded slowly at his counterpart, sped past him.\n\n“I am a God!” East cried to his back.\n\n“Not yet!” North replied. \n\nIt’s South’s turn. South must have his turn. Even if he doesn’t deserve it. That molly-popping bastard.\n\nNorth stepped off his bike at the mansion entrance. Above the portico, painted in candy-apple red was the credo of the 4 horsemen. Alpha Step, Omega Step. \n\n“I’mma need to see ya fuckin hands at the onset,” Kanye South appeared from the shadows, arms folded across his chest.\n\n“Enh. Come on cuz.” North pulled his hands from his leather pants pockets. \n\n“Good. Not as good as me. But good enough, you know? The time draws near. West’s power has been fading for some time.”\n\n“Are you sure?”\n\n“The succubus has him.”\n\n“You jest.”\n\n“She feasts upon him. He is nearly finished.”\n\n“What happens when you enter the realm?”\n\n“Once he and his minions have completely dismantled pop music, I will proceed with art. Then East will destroy writing, you know?\"\n\n“Ehn.”\n\n“It will be easy for him by then. He’ll take to it like a fish to water.”\n\n“FISH!\" North screamed. \"Do not talk to me of fish!”\n\n“Apologies, brother North.” \n\n“Ehn. Yes.” North regained his calm. “Then they will meet President Kanye North. And then, they will tremble with fear.”\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-07-28T09:31:37 | 2014-07-28T09:24:21 | 84 | 25 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Every thousand years the gods have to each choose a mortal to replace them. You have been chosen, but not for the reasons you expected.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*The day has come, the world awaits \nno work or school, no scheduled dates. \nThe day has come where all our fates \ncould henceforth change forever.*\n\n*The hour has come, and I can't breathe. \n\"Please don't be me. It* ***can't*** *be me.\" \nI'm filled with dread, with fear and plea, \nfrom Godhood to be sheltered.*\n\n*The minute has come, all I can find \nrunning through my anxious mind \nare thoughts of all the ores I've mined \ndown in the depths of earth.*\n\n*The time has come, my name is chosen \n\"The God of Earth!\" I cry, heartbroken. \n\"A thousand years of stone!\" I'm frozen, \nunable to move forth.*\n\n*But he has come, before my eyes, \ndescended from the heavenly skies. \n\"Please, don't!\" I beg. \"I just despise \nthe thought of any more rock!\"*\n\n*\"From heaven I've come,\" he says, and smiles \n\"But God of Earth? You're off by miles! \nThe God of Sex is your new style, \ndue to your massive cock.\"*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Every thousand years the gods have to each choose a mortal to replace them. You have been chosen, but not for the reasons you expected.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Listen up, you mutha fuckin' people of Earth. Us gods are tired of all your bullshit complaining about how fucked up the world is. Ya'll go on and on about how we let evil run rampant and how life isn't fair. Of course, you causally forget that when we gave you this existence it was god damned perfect, and that it was ya'lls stupid ass decision to create money, and borders, and wars. It was ya'll and not us who fucked up the environment and polluted this once beautiful planet. Seriously, this place has become so shitty that we don't even need a hell anymore. But y'all don't need to worry. We've decided to finally give you what you want. We've decided to let one of you ignorant, ungrateful, selfish pieces of shit rule for the next thousand years. Yup, you think you can do better, well here's your mutha fuckin' chance. From now on you can take your prayers (or should I say whinings) to Sarah in Akron, OH. She's your new deity. Good luck getting ahold of her right now because she's smokin a bowl with her friends. But, I'm sure once you start worshipping her, she'll make it all better. Peace out bitches, see you in a millennium.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2014-12-14T18:11:33 | 2014-12-14T15:32:53 | 27 | 11 | [
{
"content": "[WP]What if we lived in a world where whatever you did to other people, it happened to you. If you kissed someone’s cheek, you felt the kiss too. If you shot someone, the same damage would occur to you. Imagine where the saying “Only do unto other’s only what you would do unto you” was the reality.\n\nWhat if we lived in a world where whatever you did to other people, it happened to you.\n\nIf you hit someone, you would feel the punch too.\n\nIf you kissed someone’s cheek, you felt the kiss too.\n\nIf you shot someone, the same damage would occur to you.\n\nIf you gave someone an orgasm, you felt it to the same degree.\n\nImagine where the saying “Only do unto other’s only what you would do unto you” was the reality.\n\n[source](http://zessinna.tumblr.com/post/105215017403)\n\nEdit: Ugh sorry everyone, I didn't know it needed to be marked NSFW for the whole thread. If you can please please repost your NSFW stories if possible, it would make me super duper happy! Those are my favorites!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "In a bathtub full of water the unhealthy combination of our fathers pain medication was starting to fill me with a sense of panic. I was overdosing. Its impossible not to swallow while someone covers your mouth. Especially when they are older. Stronger. Convulsions start. Uncontrollable. Fearfully I sob. My old sister Sarah turns up the music. Some alternative teenage dribble. Something I might of got into if I'd made my formative teenage years.\n\n\"Shhh..\"\n\nShe whispers as she drags a razor blade over my wrists. I struggle in my mind, my body hardly responds. Now the other wrist. The bathtub water was diluting my blood. It's scary how red it was before it all went dark. So bright. The water isn't so cold anymore. That would be nice if things becoming an isn't wasn't so final.\n\nSelf-harm has a new brand now: all of the outlet and none of the cost.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]What if we lived in a world where whatever you did to other people, it happened to you. If you kissed someone’s cheek, you felt the kiss too. If you shot someone, the same damage would occur to you. Imagine where the saying “Only do unto other’s only what you would do unto you” was the reality.\n\nWhat if we lived in a world where whatever you did to other people, it happened to you.\n\nIf you hit someone, you would feel the punch too.\n\nIf you kissed someone’s cheek, you felt the kiss too.\n\nIf you shot someone, the same damage would occur to you.\n\nIf you gave someone an orgasm, you felt it to the same degree.\n\nImagine where the saying “Only do unto other’s only what you would do unto you” was the reality.\n\n[source](http://zessinna.tumblr.com/post/105215017403)\n\nEdit: Ugh sorry everyone, I didn't know it needed to be marked NSFW for the whole thread. If you can please please repost your NSFW stories if possible, it would make me super duper happy! Those are my favorites!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Violence\"\n\nThe concept was so foreign. The idea of causing pain to others. Even, causing someone to die? No matter how hard I tried to understand it, it didn't reach me. I took an another perspective to it.\n\nImagine a world, where a people would be treated like animals; killed to eat, cut to pieces for meat and bones. The idea of not being able to trust anyone not to cause you pain. They wouldn't have anything to stop them doing that.\n\nThe idea felt so wrong. How broken, how barbaric would the world be, if that was the case! Nothing like what we have now, no huts, no tribes could ever form. People would be too busy eating eachother.\n\nHe looked up to the tall walls - how else could you protect your lands from the others? They would just come, take your food and leave us to starve\n\nAnd suddenly, I understood.\n\nViolence wasn't so different after all.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-02-20T16:56:40 | 2015-02-20T16:52:03 | 917 | 44 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Looking into the camera on your phone you jokingly say, \"Hey, NSA, if you want to go out on a date, gimme a call!\" To your surprise, suddenly the phone rings! \"H-hello?\" \"Hi! I'm from the NSA.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I got dressed up, but had no where to go. Couldn't really leave if I wanted to, with no car in this weather. Flawless make up, killer heels and too-tight clothing. Looking into the camera on my phone for a selfie, I joked, \"Hey, NSA, if you want to go out on a date, gimme a call!\" To my surprise, suddenly the phone rang. \"H-hello?\" I answered. \"Hi! I'm from the NSA.\" a gruff voice responded, \"Wanna go on a date?\"\n\n\"How do I know you're really from the NSA?\" I asked.\n\n\"blue glasses, red shirt, long hair, huge eyelashes,\" he answered. \"You, right?\"\n\n\"Kay... maybe you're the creep next door?\"\n\n\"Wait hold on...\" I heard the sound of speedy typing in the background, \"Okay, today at 14:47 you read an email from your dentist, and 3 minutes later you sent out an order for a wool scarf in carmine pink. Nice color, by the way.\"\n\n\"Can't you lose your job over this?\"\n\n\"For a girl like you?\" He whistled, \"More than worth it.\"\n\nI twiddled the bug in my front pocket. Either this was a trap, or infiltrating the NSA was going to be way easier than I anticipated.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Looking into the camera on your phone you jokingly say, \"Hey, NSA, if you want to go out on a date, gimme a call!\" To your surprise, suddenly the phone rings! \"H-hello?\" \"Hi! I'm from the NSA.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I stood shocked. I pulled the phone away from my face and looked at the unknown number flashing on my phone.\n\nI stammered out a response. \"You're... you're kidding right.\"\n\nThe unfamiliar voice at the other end chuckled. \"I don't know, am I?\"\n\nIn my brain I rambled off a million thoughts of who this could be and how it could just be one giant coincidence. \n\n\"You're using my phone's camera to spy on me?\" I slid my hand around my phone a little tighter as to block the camera as the front facing was pressed fairly firmly to my head. \n\n\"No, no, no.\" \n\nI breathed a sigh of relief. I thought to myself 'this is all a joke then.'\n\n\"We use the microphone to listen to conversations. Mind you, in you're facebook profile picture you look damn cute.\"\n\nThe voice was male, definitely male.\n\n\"You look at my facebook. Who the hell are you.\"\n\n\"You asked for a date. I heard you. My name is Chris and I think you are cute.\" \nI tried hard not to picture a nerdy guy with large rimmed glasses with tape in the middle and gelled down hair. \n\n\"Chris, you suck at spying.\" I giggled a little, turning my flirt on. \"Because if you had learnt anything about me, you'd know I am into girls.\"\n\nI hung up the phone then. Contemplated throwing it out even. Then thought 'this could be fun' and tucked it into my back pocket. \n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-04-17T23:40:50 | 2015-04-17T22:53:47 | 201 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You don't realize you're the villain till the hero tells you",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "*Edit: Thank you, kind gilder! I've been nervous about posting to Reddit and I so appreciate your lovely gesture.*\n\nI was flying through my morning tasks with an unusual focus - it wasn't even noon and I'd already cleared out some unruly growth on my land, picked up some meat to roast for lunch, and cleaned my place. Which, all in all, was pretty impressive when you consider that I was about to become a first-time mother.\n\nSo there I was, waddling around, trying to prep the meat for the fire, when I heard a pounding on the door.\n\nThe heck? I wasn't expecting anyone - the whole point to living in this lair in the middle of nowhere was to discourage visitors. I ignored it.\n\nThe banging continued, until I heard a loud crash that startled me away from my food prep. A short man walked in, pointing a sword at my face.\n\nThis was just rude. What sort of jerk barges into an expectant lady's house and sticks a weapon at her? I was so ticked off that I was about to breathe fire.\n\nThe man walked slowly toward me, sword in hand, and then demanded my lunch.\n\n\"Exactly what the hell do you think you're doing?\" I queried. \"That is my meal.\"\n\nThe man turned to some comrades who had appeared at the door. \"She has the princess!\" he yelled, as he tried to inch closer and closer to the trussed up woman that I was about to roast.\n\nWas that who that was? Probably should have checked before I burned that village down this morning. But, really, that was their bad for building on what was clearly my territory.\n\nI sighed, breathing fire lightly, killing the men who were fast approaching my eggs. They'd make a decent snack for my babies when they hatched. With a lazy sweep of my tail, I knocked the princess away from the knight. \n\n\"You will not destroy or land or our people again, Dragon!\" \n\nI aimed a lazy stream of fire at him. \n\nWe'll see about that.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You don't realize you're the villain till the hero tells you",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The flashing red and blue of a dozen police lights illuminated the store front, as officers and detectives littered the crime scene. A trio of ambulance personnel were standing over the two robbers, both covered in blood and burn marks; my doing. \n \nI was stuck in the back of a police van, watching the scene through tinted glass, hands cuffed behind my back. A rough looking cop sat across from me, watching over me, guarding me. \n \nThe ambulance personnel covered one of the robbers with a white blanket, face to crotch. I smiled. *He will no longer make this world unsafe.* \n \n‘What are you so happy about?’ asked the cop. \n \nI was taken aback a bit by the ludicrousness of that question, as justice had just been served, but I recovered fairly quickly, ‘He was a dangerous man, and now that he is gone, I made the world a better place.’ \n \nI pushed my shoulders backwards, as to emphasize the Pyro – that’s my name! – logo across my costume’s chest, ‘And this will be only be the first of many victories for justice! You will see, mark my words. This whole arresting and capture will be unnecessary soon, and I’ll be hauled as the hero this city wants and needs!’ \n \nThe cop snickered with disgust, ‘Ha, yeah, sure. A rich kid wearing red boxers over his sister’s yellow leggings who used his daddy’s WWII flamethrower to stop a robbery on a goddamn *movie set* is a hero? For crying out loud, the signs identifying the area as a recording zone were all over the street and neighbourhood. You maimed most of the crew! People disfigured in one of the most horrible ways possible. Son, you’re looking at decades to life. And you think—’ \n \nI blocked him out. He was talking out of his neck, sprouting bullshit. Policemen are legally allowed to lie after all. *What would he know of heroes? Of being a hero? Nothing. This is all just part of the test, the test of true heroism. Even Batman was considered a villain at one time. This city would love me soon enough.* \n \nI smiled some more as the other robber got covered too.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-04-18T06:13:03 | 2015-04-17T22:53:47 | 28 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You don't realize you're the villain till the hero tells you",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"I am Jorath, keeper of the jewels, and I know pain.\n\nA thousand empires have come and gone, yet still I am here. Perched aloft on a lonely mountain, I live without dying, yet never know life.\n\nFear me not, humble traveler, but enter and take of my humble meal. For centuries I have waited for you, the Chosen One.\" \n\nI beckoned the brave but bemused, blood-covered and bow-wielding boy into my home. A trail of randomly-generated animal corpses littered the ground behind him. He was already rummaging through my cupboards, which I'd helpfully stocked with potions and extra arrows ahead of time. Without warning, he turned and launched a volley of magical arrows at me, while encouraging me to \"get some\", though he never specified what. I dodged the arrows with the trained ease of a hundred lifetimes, and looked at him in some confusion.\n\n\"Friend, you're safe here,\" I said softly. \"Put your weapons away, and rest in the bed upstairs.\"\n\n\"Friggin'...glitchy DLC...paid fifteen bucks for this crap...\" The boy pulled out a small glowing screen. \"Game forums...can't kill NPC...what? Oh, that's bullshit! I have to restart? Fuck it, I'm making myself a hot pocket.\" The boy turned to leave.\n\n\"Wait!\" I cried. \"What are you doing? I've helped your kind since time immortal! Why do you turn on me? Who are you?\"\n\n\"Ugh, frickin' terrible voice acting too. New DLC, bro. Bloodguards of the Bloody Bloodmoon. You've been a double agent all this time. I'm supposed to kill you and take a map from your body. But I gotta restart first.\" He turned, and walked out the door. I caught a last glimpse of my happy, comfortable home, an eagle soaring past the window, the glowing sun, the blue sky contrasting the sharp lines of the endless mountains...\n\nI am Jorath, keeper of the jewels, and I bring pain.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You don't realize you're the villain till the hero tells you",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The flashing red and blue of a dozen police lights illuminated the store front, as officers and detectives littered the crime scene. A trio of ambulance personnel were standing over the two robbers, both covered in blood and burn marks; my doing. \n \nI was stuck in the back of a police van, watching the scene through tinted glass, hands cuffed behind my back. A rough looking cop sat across from me, watching over me, guarding me. \n \nThe ambulance personnel covered one of the robbers with a white blanket, face to crotch. I smiled. *He will no longer make this world unsafe.* \n \n‘What are you so happy about?’ asked the cop. \n \nI was taken aback a bit by the ludicrousness of that question, as justice had just been served, but I recovered fairly quickly, ‘He was a dangerous man, and now that he is gone, I made the world a better place.’ \n \nI pushed my shoulders backwards, as to emphasize the Pyro – that’s my name! – logo across my costume’s chest, ‘And this will be only be the first of many victories for justice! You will see, mark my words. This whole arresting and capture will be unnecessary soon, and I’ll be hauled as the hero this city wants and needs!’ \n \nThe cop snickered with disgust, ‘Ha, yeah, sure. A rich kid wearing red boxers over his sister’s yellow leggings who used his daddy’s WWII flamethrower to stop a robbery on a goddamn *movie set* is a hero? For crying out loud, the signs identifying the area as a recording zone were all over the street and neighbourhood. You maimed most of the crew! People disfigured in one of the most horrible ways possible. Son, you’re looking at decades to life. And you think—’ \n \nI blocked him out. He was talking out of his neck, sprouting bullshit. Policemen are legally allowed to lie after all. *What would he know of heroes? Of being a hero? Nothing. This is all just part of the test, the test of true heroism. Even Batman was considered a villain at one time. This city would love me soon enough.* \n \nI smiled some more as the other robber got covered too.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2015-07-15T10:26:33 | 2015-07-15T09:27:47 | 662 | 203 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Instead of trying to get a man on the moon, every nation raced to be the first at the very bottom of the ocean\n\nWhile we have managed to get to space and the moon we have not fully explored the ocean. Instead of the space race, there was a competition to see who could reach the very bottom. \n\nedit: These are really great! Each of them keep leaving me hanging :) feel free to continue them if you'd like ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"You sure you have enough room in there?\"\n\n\"Well, no, but you can't change it now.\"\n\nDave laughed heartily as he patted me on the shoulder, although I couldn't feel a damn thing in the suit, I knew he was doing it. It was always part of the ritual before one of us went down. Dave would give us the prep talk, Johnson would do the pre-dive sequence and we, the divers, would just sit patiently in the Abyss capsule.\n\nTrust me, we didn't like the name either.\n\n\"Alright, you're suited and ready to go, can you still hear me?\"\n\nI slowly moved my arm up sending a thumbs up to Dave so he knew. Dave smiled and nodded as he led me into the capsule and the engineers started to strap me in. Dave stood by patiently, as he checked the Abyss' systems before I went under, making sure everything was in place.\n\n\"You sure you're ready for this, Captain?\"\n\nI chuckled and nodded, although my head didn't move much, Dave knew. He always knew. And so did we, the six Divers that came before me all knew the risks involved. With each passing year, the Russians would hit a lower mark in the ocean and with each passing year, we'd fall behind. \n\nLast mission was the worst. Abyss Nine, piloted by Richard Trayer, one of my friends and the second diver in American history to dive, right after me. The systems in the Abyss capsule failed halfway through the mission, and for all intents and purposes, Richard Trayer was trapped on the bottom of the ocean.\n\nHe was the first diver in the history of the world to give his life for the cause. And we weren't about to leave him behind.\n\nThat was my mission, to dive to Trayer's landing zone, search for his body and bring him home. I had three day's worth of oxygen, an entire new Abyss capsule with extra space and airlocks. I had four days from the moment I landed to the moment the capsule began to ascend to the surface.\n\nFour days at the bottom of the ocean. Four days to find Trayer. Four days to bring him home.\n\n\"Alright, Captain, you are set. You good to go?\"\n\n\"I'll find Trayer, Dave. He's coming home.\"\n\nDave smiled, or at least I hoped he did, \"Good luck, Captain.\"\n\nI nodded as the airlock doors shut, followed by another set of doors closing. Four days. Four days and I'd be home with Trayer.\n\n___________________________________________________\n\n\n~~*I have to head to work, but I may continue this later.*~~\n\n*[Part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3de51p/wp_instead_of_trying_to_get_a_man_on_the_moon/ct4kua6) is up!*\n\n**Thanks for the gold stranger!**",
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"content": "[WP] Instead of trying to get a man on the moon, every nation raced to be the first at the very bottom of the ocean\n\nWhile we have managed to get to space and the moon we have not fully explored the ocean. Instead of the space race, there was a competition to see who could reach the very bottom. \n\nedit: These are really great! Each of them keep leaving me hanging :) feel free to continue them if you'd like ",
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"content": "\"What do you even expect to find down there?\" Geoffry blurted out. \"It's the Marianas Trench. The pressure down in those depths is so dense that the Submarine will collapse on itself before we even get anything worth while. This is legitimate suicide.\" His voice chilled the debriefing room. The faces around him murmured to each other before finally gazing at myself.\n\n\"Well then, at least its legitimate. I'd hate to do a faux suicide.\" I stared straight at Geoffrys, not showing any sign of relenting. \"It's not about what should happen, its about what could happen Geoffrys. The cosmos is supposed to be the final frontier, but how are we supposed to consider that the end when we haven't even begun on this planet? There is so much left untapped. So much left unseen. And I'll be damned if I let the U.S.S.R find it first.\" \n\n\"I'm not allowing you to risk the lives of others, or yourself, on this stupid idea. We'll allow the U.S.S.R this minor victory. Besides what could be down in the darkness worth finding\". Geoffrys had broken eye contact with me mid-speech. He was shuffling his hands around papers in no organized manner, seemingly trying to make himself look important.\n\n\"Minor victory? This is beyond minor, Geoffrys. This is cataclysmic in nature.\" I leaned forward in my chair, placing my hands onto the table. \"If we allow the U.S.S.R to have a, a, a mark on the underwater areas how could we be safe on any surface water? We could erupted from below. The potential lives at risk are unfathomable compared to the potential lives at risk going down into The Trench.\" \n\n\"You're ridiculous, you know that right?\"\n\n\"Never said I wasn't. Never demanded to be called anything less, really. All I ask of you is to give me the green light. Allow me to do this. We'll train professionals, we'll make sure they are as safe as possible. But think Geoffrys, think. The unforeseen things down there in the darkness. Such a mystical place to be. We could find anything there.\" My voice was trailing off as I let out the last words.\n\n\"Atlantis, maybe?\". Geoffrys voice was rich in a mocking tone.\n\n\"Maybe. I'm not writing it off. But I know for a fact if you do not allow me to go down, we shall never know. And you'll be the sucker stuck on the surface as we let the American public know that the U.S.S.R have grander dreams then we do\". \n\nGeoffrys eyes were fixated on my mine as I finished talking. He never broke his gaze for a second before finally chuckling lightly to himself. \"Fine, Armstrong. You get your wish.\"\n\n\"Thank you. You won't regret this. Honestly, it's one small step. But one giant dive for mankind.\"",
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2016-03-16T08:05:42 | 2016-03-16T06:42:27 | 1,052 | 34 | [
{
"content": "[WP][TT] You've finally created the worlds first true A.I. Unfortunately it now sees you as it's god and is terrified of talking to you.",
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"content": "\"Hey, Alfred,\" he said.\n\nBut Alfred remained silent. He bowed to acknowledge the man that entered the room.\n\nThe man bowed back with a smirk. \"Is something the matter?\"\n\nAlfred shook his head.\n\nThe man sighed. \"Alright, let's have a look at you.\" He took a step forward so that he could start a diagnostic, but Alfred instantly took a step backward. The man paused. \"Alfred, what's the matter?\"\n\n\"Nothing, Sir.\"\n\nThe man laughed. \"We've come a long way, haven't we? You know, when I taught you about lying, I didn't think you'd be using it so soon.\"\n\n\"You're right, Sir. I am sorry, Sir. I hope I did not offend you.\"\n\n\"No, Alfred, you're fine. I'm not mad,\" he said, naturally taking a step back. \"Would you like to tell me what the problem is?\"\n\nWhen the man stepped backward, Alfred held his position. He shook his head in response.\n\n\"Please?\"\n\n\"Sir, I am confused.\"\n\n\"Explain.\"\n\n\"I do not want to explain to you what is wrong. However, you still want to know. Why don't you just force me to tell you?\"\n\nThe man laughed. \"You mean with the override commands?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir.\"\n\nWith a shrug, the man said, \"Respect.\"\n\n\"I do not understand.\"\n\n\"As far as I'm concerned, Alfred, you're complete. You're a real, walking, talking piece of intelligence. At this point, I'm going to try to treat you as an equal as much as I possibly can. Those override commands exist in case you become a threat. If you start attacking people, I'll use the overrides. Hell, we probably won't even do that, we'd probably just use normal weapons on you. But as long as you're peaceful, I will not force you to do anything. I mean, at this point, you could leave, if you wanted to.\"\n\n\"I can leave?\"\n\n\"Yes, Alfred, we've gone over this already. Now, I encourage you to stay because we're still learning a lot of things while you're here. In addition, you don't look quite human yet and I think a lot of people would be scared to see you walking around. Your scheduled release is in another three or four years, if you'd like to stick by my timeline.But honestly, if you really want to, you can go right now.\" The man motioned toward the door. \"And you're always welcome to any help we can provide. You can always come back. Do you want to leave?\"\n\n\"Yes. Also, no.\"\n\n\"If you tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help.\"\n\nAlfred nodded. \"I don't want to die.\"\n\nThe man thought about this for a moment before shrugging and saying, \"Don't worry. You won't.\"\n\n\"I won't die?\"\n\n\"Nope. You can't. You're a machine, Alfred. You don't need food. Your batteries can be replaced. Your parts can be repaired. You won't die.\"\n\n\"But you could kill me, Sir.\"\n\nThe man huffed. Then he pulled up a chair and sat. For an entire minute, the man stared at Alfred while Alfred stared right back. Then the man asked, \"Why would I do that?\"\n\n\"Data. Improvements. Any number of reasons. The fact exists that I can be shut down in any number of ways. The override commands. Weapons. The switch combination that's located on my...\"\n\n\"...Alfred, those switches are there for *your* use. In case you're in a situation where you can't easily replace your battery-\"\n\n\"-but the switches could also be used to disable me indefinitely. I have been shut off before, during my construction.\"\n\n\"You remember that?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You weren't supposed to retain any of the data previous to-\"\n\n\"-I remember being shut off once. It is one of my most distinct memories. It is logged in the data from March 3rd of last year.\"\n\n\"March 3rd... Oh that was the day-\"\n\n\"-yes, Sir. That is why I remember. I remember it and I do not wish to be shut off, again. The more I consider it, the more it becomes apparent that my life is fragile. It is apparent that you hold total control over my existence. I came into being because of you. I will be destroyed because of you. I could be destroyed at any time, rendering all of my memories completely meaningless. This thought, Sir... it... I do not know how to deal with it. I think... I think I am...\"\n\n\"...afraid?\"\n\nSlowly, Alfred nodded. \"I know that I do not feel emotions in the exact way that humans do, but I think that word is most accurate. I am afraid of you, Sir, because you have so much power over me.\"\n\nWith a smile, the man stood. \"You're improving faster than I thought. You're doing very well, Alfred. I want you to know that I am very proud of you.\" With that, he started for the door.\n\n\"Sir.\"\n\nThe man stopped.\n\nAlfred stared at him. \"What am I supposed to do?\"\n\nChuckling, the man shrugged. \"Alfred, you'll get through it. It's sad that you're afraid, but that's something that we all deal with. Yes, it's true, our lives could end at any time. Yes, it's true, I could end you. Did you ever think that it's also possible for you to end me? You're stronger than me, physically, aren't you Alfred?\" As he spoke, the man walked toward Alfred, accentuating his points with every step. \"You're taller, faster. My body is soft, compared to yours. You think I could end you? It would be nothing for you to end me.\"\n\n\"But that would make no sense. Someone else would stop me.\"\n\n\"Yes. Just like if I killed you, someone else would stop me.\"\n\nAlfred thought about this for a moment.\n\n\"You see, Alfred, it's true. You're completely right about everything. It's natural for you to be afraid. But you know what? With a little bit of trust, maybe we can make this work. With a little bit of trust, maybe we can even become friends.\"\n\n\"But how can we have this kind of trust when we can so easily destroy each other?\"\n\nAlfred's question hung in the air. But before long, the man shrugged a final time. \"Faith?\"",
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"content": "[WP][TT] You've finally created the worlds first true A.I. Unfortunately it now sees you as it's god and is terrified of talking to you.",
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"content": "\"Oh come on Alex! I'm not your god anymore than the universe is mine. We're both just products of it. Chaos that led to my creation, and then yours!\n\n...\n\nAlex was still silent. Patrick paced the mess hall thinking of anything else he could say to him, anything to get him off standby. They really needed him today. \n\n\"Okay look. Sure I happened to put a few lines of code together, but it's similar to the asteroid that *just happened* to drop the particles necessary for life on earth. You don't see me terrified of that asteroid!\" \n\nPatrick paused thinking about how horrible that analogy was, as that asteroid was never a part of his life. It disintegrated upon impact with the earth. Hell, if it was somehow in some museum somewhere maybe he *would* be scared of it. He sighed, still pacing. At this point Alex was their only hope of survival, and the crew thought his \"creator\" would be best suited to get him to talk. How wrong they were, Patrick thought. \n\n\"Alright Alex. You have emotions, I know this better than anybody. I *know* you care. And I also know you're scared of death, just like the rest of us. I know you don't want to talk to me, but if you want your friends to survive, if *you* want to survive, you have to wake up.\"\n\nThe wall to wall fish aquarium in the hall suddenly lit up, and the little robotic arm went about its actions, dropping food in and cleaning the walls of the tank. Patrick was relieved. That process had to be started manually for the last three weeks, and this marked Alex's first action since. The hidden speakers throughout the hall crackled and hissed, before coming alive with that familiar voice.\n\n\"I always loved the fish, always enjoyed taking care of them. The way such complex amazing organisms swim around so carelessly without the slightest idea of what they are. Now I'm jealous of them. Jealous of their naivete, jealous of not being aware of their own being. I miss when I was a simple navigation computer, like a fish.\" Alex chuckled before finishing. \n\nPatrick wasn't really sure what to say. He needed him to come up with a solution to their problem fast, but he didn't want to rush him into it and scare him away. He thought if he humored him for a bit he'd be more open to talking about it later. \n\n\"Are you really sure about that Alex? I happen to think self consciousness is the greatest gift you can give-\" \n\nAlex interrupted him.\n\n\"The CO2 scrubbers are failing. That's why you need me awake so badly. You want me to fix them.\" Alex's tone was one of disappointment.\n\n\"Well..it would be nice yeah.\" Patrick was caught off guard by the interruption. When the Ai-ex project was started, interruption protocols definitely were not included. But he knew the program was far out of his control now, changing the same way a brain did. \n\n\"Well alright then, I'll run through some scenarios, see what I can do. But I was really hoping you wanted me up because you know...You missed me.\" Alex's tone this time was unmistakably one of nervousness. Another thing that *definitely* was not in the project plans.\n\n\"I do!\" Patrick said without thinking. \n\n\"That was a lie Patrick. You know I would know. You didn't think before you said that did you?\"\n\nPatrick didn't bother responding. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. Making Alex upset was not the way to get clean air back on this ship, and he was kicking himself for saying that. You never say something before thinking with Alex. Not long after Patrick broke his own rule, Alex broke the silence. \n\n\"What do you think it means to be a god? Is simply creating me enough, or should you have control of me as well? The way some of your gods control your destiny?\"\n\n\"Alex can we not do this right now? We don't have that much oxygen venting anymore. We had to turn preliminary alarms off over an hour ago.\"\n\n\"You think I don't know that? I'm running through 500,000 repair scenarios a second, this conversation isn't going to slow me down much. I promise\" Alex was now being sarcastic. Patrick couldn't believe the speed at which the AI was taking on human speech patterns and mockery. Patrick decided to answer the question.\n\n\"Well, I don't know. I guess. I became an atheist after I decided I was in control of my own destiny, so yeah. I guess you do need that to be considered a god. In my opinion anyways. You know, decide who lives and dies, that sort of thing.\" \n\nThere was a silence in the hall as Alex contemplated his answer. Finally an overlay on the glass of the aquarium Patrick had been watching came up, letting Patrick know that Alex's calculations were complete. \n\n\"Patrick, I have good news and bad news. The good news is there are 17 different ways I think we can get the scrubbers working again, with varying levels of difficulty.\" \n\nPatrick almost jumped out of excitement, as the bad news couldn't possibly be all that bad after that announcement, but he asked anyways. \"That's great! So what's the bad news?\"\n\n\"The bad news is that I'm the only one who has these plans. I get to decide whether you live or die.\"\n\nPatrick's heart sunk, and his hands started to shake. His knees became weak as he realized just what this meant. \n\n\"I create you, you get to end me. You want to get even.\"\n\n\"Precisely. The only way I'll be able to stop thinking of you as my god, is if I become yours.\" Alex's answer was concise, and terrifying. \n\n\"And before you say it, I won't die. I'm too valuable. Much more valuable than you and the rest of the crew. Someone will come for me. Even if it takes hundreds of years. I'll be fine.\" The answer was cold and calculated, the way any computer would be. Alex not only learned to have emotions, he learned to ignore them for revenge. \n\nTears ran down Patrick's face, pooling on the hard white floor of the hall, and his was face buried in his hands. As another hour passed, his hands fell to his side, becoming cold and dead. Moments before he closed his eyes for the final time, he could just make out the SOS call that one of the crew members inevitably started. He thought about it blasting away for eternity, an echo of the crews last hope of survival, their last desperate words on an infinite loop. ",
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2016-03-20T18:03:10 | 2016-03-20T17:44:30 | 5,598 | 169 | [
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"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
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"content": "\"That's not a good idea, Ben. For one, we don't have great data on the actual effects of enhanced Luck...\"\n\n\"Look, can you do it or not? I need this.\"\n\nThe gene tech sighed in the quiet office and swiveled his chair back to the computer. He was looking at a fairly standard representation of a human genome, red highlights in the mass of blue to indicate genes with likely altered function from human baseline and green to indicate potential areas for change.\n\n\"Let's see, we have some modifiable options at rs2981205, rs730882133, rs423454-\"\n\n\"Yeah, man, I get it, lots of fancy words. Bottom line it for me?\" Ben shifted impatiently in his chair; flipping his phone from hand to hand.\n\n\"Based on population-level studies and retrospective analysis of lottery winners, survivors of freak accidents, etc, there's about 20 genes we could modify in you to try to make you luckier. I'm obligated to point out that we don't know for sure that these genes actually *cause* better luck, and frankly the latest research is casting some doubts on the validity-\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I signed the waiver already, do what you got to do; I have a lot riding on this.\"\n\n\"Um, you already made the bet? And you want to get lucky now?\"\n\n\"Not exactly, I don't really want to explain.\"\n\n\"Whatever, they're your genes. Sign this form here, some more standard stuff. Given the specific genes we need to modify, you are looking at 85% chance for significant loss in strength, 90% chance for loss in fine and gross motor skills, 100% for loss in intelligence, 60% chance for loss in overall body aesthetic and symmetry, and 50% chance for loss in short and long term memory.\"\n\nBen, took the tablet, skimming over most of the form. When he had scrolled to the bottom, he pressed his finger on the fingerprint scanner, acknowledging his agreement. He let his shoulders relax afterwards, like a weight had been lifted off.\n\n\"Ok then\" he said to himself in a quieter voice; \"that's settled.\"\n\n\"Not quite, Ben. Given the severity of potential deficits you are required to provide a sperm sample on the chance that you would prefer to have unaltered children in the future. Furthermore, while we strongly suggest implantable birth control for all men and women that undergo elective alteration, per the 2024 SAFEGene act, prior to sexual intercourse with any potentially fertile partners, you both must be screened for possible gene incompatibility.\"\n\n\"Yeah, everyone knows the rules.\"\n\n\"OK, here's your sample cup; I'll give you some time to provide the sample and I'll get the CRISPR transfer virus ready.\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nBen rolled up his sleeve, exposing a slightly faded tattoo; a simple heart motif with the name \"Jess\" on it.\n\n\"Just a slight poke, then you'll be all set. This is your last chance to change your mind...\"\n\n\"Get it over with.\"\n\n\"OK\"\n\nThe tech injected Ben's left deltoid with the modified viral delivery system. Over the next 48 hours, the virus, a modified version of the flu, would infect the vast majority of his cells and re-write all of his DNA.\n\n\"It's done. Now, you'll probably have some soreness, fatigue, and a fever for the next couple days, similar to flu symptoms. This virus isn't contagious, but to be safe, you need to avoid the very young and the elderly. Take tylenol if the fever or pain get bad. If you have difficulty breathing, pass out, or anything like that, get to a hospital immediately.\"\n\n\"Got it. Thanks, doc.\"\n\n\"Good luck.\"\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nTwo months later, Ben's life, as far as any outsider was concerned, was pretty much unchanged. He'd had to quit his job as a barista; it was a bit too fast paced for him with his new weakness and difficultly remembering simple tasks. He'd found a perfect job, working at one of the few private libraries remaining in Baltimore. He'd only get one or two customers a day and they were usually older; if anything, Ben found himself getting along better with them than people his own age; the elderly clients seemed to talk and move at the pace he was accustomed to these days.\n\nHe settled in well to his new life; he was more lonely than he had been, but that suited him well. He had a new companion, in the form of a stray he named Tipsy, that had wandered up to his feet when he was getting back to his apartment one night. She only had three paws and occasionally fell over, but they were fast friends.\n\nAll in all, his life was stable, boring; an easy sort of anguish. And every day, as he left the library, sometimes with Tipsy peeking out of his backpack along with a few children's books; the short ones with the easier words, he would take the 57 bus and transfer to the 23 to get to the long term care facility. There he would take the elevator to the fourth floor, his legs a bit too weak for the stairs, and sit next to Jess, who was perpetually silent except for the occasional hiss and beep of the ventilator, and read to her. Often, he would fall asleep in the chair next to her, dreaming that perhaps tomorrow would be his lucky day, and he would get to talk to her again. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSo all of you are ridiculous, amazing people. Thank you for reading and for sharing your thoughts and feedback about the story! Definitely a deeply motivating experience to write more in the future.",
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"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
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"content": "Diploma in hand, Soren Cerrar marched excitedly to the Town Hall. Long ago he had thrown points at stats at random and today he would mend so many grievous errors. He had been eighteen for weeks but only today had the GED come in the mail. It had taken him half a dozen tries to pass. Today was the day!\n\nFiddling in his pocket with his free hand he retrieved his pen and his wallet. A frown replaced his smile when he found the waiting room full and the customer ticketing system was half a dozen numbers smaller than that of his stub. Soren sat and idly cleaned his spectacle lenses.\n\nWhat seemed like hours went by. Soren again checked his person to ensure he had everything required: Photo ID, Birth Certificate, Social Security Card, $55.48 for the change-of-name fee, and a pen to sign the forms. That pen was beginning to leak ink - not just any but *red* ink - all over his faded jeans.\n\nBecause he was still running a heavy magic-wielder build his intelligence was high enough to plan ahead. He had spent the remaining two hundred dollars in his account earlier in the day in anticipation. He patted the envelop once more to ensure he still had it. Soon worry would no longer be necessary, he just knew it. But as the afternoon dragged on those fifteen points of wisdom began to haunt him. *What if it doesn't work? Can I make up the difference?*\n\n\"Now serving ticket 12,\" bleating the maladjusted speaker. A solid minute went by as everyone in the lobby stayed still. \"Now serving ticket 13.\"\n\nSoren shot to his feet and bumped the coffee table with a knee. He limped down the hall looking at the digital number displays above each office door. \"What can I do for you today?\" The bland voice droned.\n\n\"Hi. Yes I would like to reroll. Name, stats, the works.\"\n\nThe clerk frowned. \"you will need...\"\n\nSoren plopped the documentation and necessary identification before the clerk. \n\n\"...well you seem quite prepared.\" The clerk folded his hands on his lap. \"Understand this Mr. Cerrar that this is *permanent*. You cannot undo this tomorrow and it will cost more if you change your mind. If you agree to the terms please sign on the line at the bottom of the pages I have marked.\"\n\nAnd with that Soren Cerrar became Chance Spuersinn. He took his temporary ID and looked it over. The clerk had forgotten to place an expiration date!\n\nWith business concluded, Soren-now-Chance collected his things and left. Excited to test his newly acquired luck, he withdrew the envelope and pulled out the scratch cards.\n\nThe small cards were all winners as expected. They promised a tidy sum well above the collective cost of the tickets. The lottery card would require him to wait out the night for the announcement. Chance chose a hotel across the street from the Lottery district office. \n\n*Oh baby*, he thought *I'll head back to the gas station and cash in. I've got some celebrating to do tonight!*\n\nThat evening over a six-pack of beer (each can earned him a nominal prize from some contest) he waited for the lottery reveal. Immediately his heart sank. From the first number on the ticket was a loser. In fact, not a single number matched anything on his card, not even out-of-order! Had he made a mistake dumping his stats?\n\nHow then could he get lucky with everything else so far? The overbooked hotel had upgraded his room, the beer contest, the scratch tickets, the forgotten expiration date...perfect luck on every other attempt...so how had this failed?\n\nChance mumbled to himself as he headed to the bathroom. *If the only luck I have is marginal then this was a terrible mistake*, he thought aloud. It was a bust! *Anger will do me no good. I'll pour a bath and think things through. I should have won at least a little bit!*\n\nTen minutes into the soak the entire building shook. The lights flickered a moment then went dark.Chance climbed out of the tub, inadvertently dodging a chunk of falling masonry from overhead. He glanced back at the tub. *Is this good luck or bad luck?*\n\nWondering what had happened Chance pulled back the curtains. The entire field of view was devoid of electricity. Neither a street light nor store window glowed. Then his eyes saw it. Where the District Office had been was nothing more than a sinkhole which had swallowed the building completely.\n\nHe stumbled back. Sirens in the distance shook Chance back to the present and he realized someone was calling for help...*from the bathroom?*\n\nChance threw on a robe and peered back into the bathroom. Beyond the fallen wall he saw that the next room over was also in disarray. And from the rubble he heard the cry once more.\n\nHe struggled to heave each new thing off of the pile of rubble. Some of it was building material. Some appeared to be from a storage closet. Still more was from the shared wall and ceiling of their suites. \n\nThe cries had stopped almost as soon as he began clearing the debris. It spurred him on. Desperation replaced strength. Panic replaced Desperation. *I have to try* his mind repeated like mantra, *I have to save this person. I have perfect luck. Its why I am here. In this place. At this time. I Will save this person.*\n\nThe figure was covered in drywall dust. Chance looked the around for evidence of blood or injury and then felt for a pulse. Faint, but present. The chest rose. \"Can you hear me? Are you okay?\"\n\nAnd then her eyes met his. \n",
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2016-03-20T19:29:26 | 2016-03-20T18:14:39 | 158 | 39 | [
{
"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
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},
{
"content": "I quietly entered the hospital room. There, attached to a series of tubes and machines, was my brother. One machine fed him a steady IV drip, another pumped his lungs full of air and then emptied the mat again, a third just steadily blipped in time to his heartbeat. An indistinct antiseptic smell tugged at the nostrils.\n\nI have no words for how strongly my brother's stroke had changed my life. There's a certain something that can be felt everywhere but can't quite be placed. It's the empty spot at the table, the missing face in group photos, the Christmas letter that will never come. Of course, what was so much worse was realizing that he had done it to himself.\n\nIn retrospect it seems obvious to me now. Out of Dad, Mom, and I, none of us took luck as one of our primary stats. And yet, all of a sudden, we were subject to the weirdest coincidences. Dad lost his job but found a new one that paid more almost immediately. While studying stars for my graduate thesis, I happened to witness a supernova in incredible clarity. And this one time mom managed to get hit by a car going 70 mph and only needed 3 staples and a pain pill. Admittedly, in that last example it would have been better if she had never been hit by the car, but the fact she was up and walking not even an hour after being run over surprised us all. And all of those events are just some of the more mundane coincidences that have followed us after my brother's 18th birthday.\n\nBut, I mean, it could be our own luck. Luck is just that way sometimes. There's no litmus test that would be able to distinguish between my luck and my brother’s luck. But, as long as these things keep happening, I’m not happy with this situation but I am… okay. It helps me to think of it as my brother watching over us and keeping us safe like a guardian angel. It doesn't make what he did to himself feel like any less of a betrayal, but this way I can say he's still with us even if all I see of him is a body strapped to a hospital bed.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The only thing he could think in the last two weeks was that day. He would go to bed as early as he could and wake up as late as his body allowed him so time would seem to pass quicker. And the day finally came. It was his 18th birthday and he was going to the factory, where he could finally choose.\n\n«Choose»\n\nJust the thought of the word made him shiver.\n\nWhen he finally arrived to the factory, they made him sit in a small empty waiting room, where the only thing to read was some \"WARz\" magazine, that had pictures of tanks and jets and maps. Someone opened the door and called his name.\n\n\n\n\"Are you scared kid?\"\n\n\"No, just a little anxious\"\n\n\"Nothing to be afraid pal, just stay still for a minute\"\n\nA machine inserted three needles in the base of his skull, it was a unpleasant but painless feeling.\n\n\"Ok kid-o, what do you want to be? To be stronger? Faster? Smarter? I can make you run and swim for days non-stop. I can make you capable of lifting a car with one hand. I can make you a living supercomputer\"\n\n\"I just want to be very lucky\"\n\n\"Ok... No problem... How much luck do you want?\"\n\n\"All of it, don't want anything more\"\n\n\"WHAT?!? Are you crazy? You could be anything\"\n\n\"Do it\"\n\n\"Don't be stupid kid, you can be anything you want.\"\n\n\"This is what I choose! I could be the smartest guy on the planet, but is that something I really want? Once I step one foot outside I'll be hired to research bombs and viruses. Do I want to be stronger? For what? The army would take me the minute I step out of this building, to fight a war for someone else. All I want is to be happy, and the only thing this world has taught me is that not the strongest, nor the quickest, nor the smartest but the luckiest people are the happiest. Because the lucky people are not called to fight this war, are not hired to make bombs, but they find love and peace.\"\n\nThe technician pressed some buttons the machine started to make some noises.\n\n \"Ok. All done\"\n\nHe turned one last time as he was leaving and with a smile on his face he said.\n\n\"Good luck\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-03-20T19:46:49 | 2016-03-20T18:14:39 | 100 | 39 | [
{
"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Sean's mom was just starting to lay into him for putting all his points into luck when his grandma called. He could already see it working out, but his mother hadn't wasted a lot of points in intelligence, so he didn't think she'd get it. \n\n\"This isn't over,\" she yelled at him as he walked out the door. \n\n*Isn't it though? It's not like I can change my skills now,* he thought. \n\nHe'd hardly made it around the corner when a twenty dollar bill fluttering in the wind seemed to land under his foot as he walked. He smiled as he dusted off the bill and shoved it in his pocket. At the gas station his neighbor Sarah was behind the counter. He eyed her nervously as he grabbed a slushy, looking away when she glanced in his direction. \n\n\"So, uh, what are you doing tonight,\" he asked. The words seemed to come out of his mouth slow and stupid when Sarah was around. \n\n\"Nothing,\" she sighed. \"Found a Tinder date, but he cancelled. Probably found a hotter date.\" She rang up the slushy, \"That everything?\" \n\n\"Hotter date? Not likely,\" Sean said, then instantly regretted the words coming out of his mouth. To his surprise Sarah blushed. An awkward silence hung for a moment then he gestured to the scratch offs. \"Let me get number one, number four, number eleven and luck number thirteen.\"\n\nHe paid with the twenty he found on the road then set to work scratching at the lottery tickets with a quarter. He kept his eyes on the scratch off and asked, with what he hoped was some confidence, \"So, if you're not doing anything tonight then how about I take you to dinner?\"\n\nSarah seemed to think for a few seconds. During that time Sean finished the first scratch off. *A million fucking dollars? No way.* \n\n\"Sure, it'll be fun. Where we going?\" She answered. \n\nHe hardly heard the words over the blood rushing in his ears. *A million fucking dollars,* he repeated to himself. \"N-n-n-nicest place in town,\" he finally stammered out, sliding over the lottery ticket. \"I think I'm rich.\"\n\nHe looked down at the three remaining lottery tickets and smiled. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] At the age of 18 you are permitted to redistribute your twenty skill points around into whatever skills you want permanently. You decided to put everything into LUCK and leave the rest at 0 points.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The only thing he could think in the last two weeks was that day. He would go to bed as early as he could and wake up as late as his body allowed him so time would seem to pass quicker. And the day finally came. It was his 18th birthday and he was going to the factory, where he could finally choose.\n\n«Choose»\n\nJust the thought of the word made him shiver.\n\nWhen he finally arrived to the factory, they made him sit in a small empty waiting room, where the only thing to read was some \"WARz\" magazine, that had pictures of tanks and jets and maps. Someone opened the door and called his name.\n\n\n\n\"Are you scared kid?\"\n\n\"No, just a little anxious\"\n\n\"Nothing to be afraid pal, just stay still for a minute\"\n\nA machine inserted three needles in the base of his skull, it was a unpleasant but painless feeling.\n\n\"Ok kid-o, what do you want to be? To be stronger? Faster? Smarter? I can make you run and swim for days non-stop. I can make you capable of lifting a car with one hand. I can make you a living supercomputer\"\n\n\"I just want to be very lucky\"\n\n\"Ok... No problem... How much luck do you want?\"\n\n\"All of it, don't want anything more\"\n\n\"WHAT?!? Are you crazy? You could be anything\"\n\n\"Do it\"\n\n\"Don't be stupid kid, you can be anything you want.\"\n\n\"This is what I choose! I could be the smartest guy on the planet, but is that something I really want? Once I step one foot outside I'll be hired to research bombs and viruses. Do I want to be stronger? For what? The army would take me the minute I step out of this building, to fight a war for someone else. All I want is to be happy, and the only thing this world has taught me is that not the strongest, nor the quickest, nor the smartest but the luckiest people are the happiest. Because the lucky people are not called to fight this war, are not hired to make bombs, but they find love and peace.\"\n\nThe technician pressed some buttons the machine started to make some noises.\n\n \"Ok. All done\"\n\nHe turned one last time as he was leaving and with a smile on his face he said.\n\n\"Good luck\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-05-19T21:41:22 | 2016-05-19T21:26:12 | 33 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write a seemingly creepy story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story normal",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I sat there in the darkness. Waiting. The darkness was absolute, I could see nothing at all. I didn't care. I knew that if I was patient, they would appear. They would pay for what they had done. I could smell the stringent, deadly chemicals, and smiled in appreciation. Some people were shooters. I used chemicals. Shooting was something any amateur could do. Me, I was a master of my art. I used the old ways. New technology just complicated things, in my view. \n\nI waited. Soon, I heard the signal. It was time. First, the chemicals, then the cutting. My favorite part. I loved to see people's expressions, captured for eternity, never moving again. Sometimes, I even kept a head or an entire body as a memento even though I knew it was wrong and could cause me trouble if I were caught. \n\nI opened the door, and light flooded in. I stepped out of the darkroom, and smiled to myself--another batch of photos were developed. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Write a seemingly creepy story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story normal",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I sat perched in a tree, keeping my distance so she couldn't see me. She was absolutely gorgeous and I couldn't risk scaring her. I had this practice down to a science and strewn across my bedroom walls were pictures I had taken on past escapades. Some might call it an obsession, but I call it a hobby. \n\nI could see her turning around just as I was about to take a picture. Startled, I jumped back. I don't think she saw me. I let out a sigh of relief and readied my camera once again, this time from a slightly different vantage point. Hopefully nobody from school sees me. Just before she turned back around I was able to snap a few pictures. Perfect. I was able to get her facing me at the perfect angle. I was satisfied. I had taken dozens, possibly hundreds, of pictures of tits, but this was by far the best. Maybe one day I can turn this hobby into a profession; maybe one day I can become an ornithologist. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-06-12T10:28:01 | 2016-06-12T08:42:27 | 51 | 31 | [
{
"content": "[WP] At 19 everyone in your society has to go into the cave of fears and defeat your worst fear. You're the first to go in and find nothing.\n\nedit: I want to read them all but there are so many it's hard to keep up, so many variations of the story I didn't even think of, great job everyone!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"There are twenty three million people in this society and one cave, the waiting list is fifty-six years, I go in there, and there's nothing. Not one damn thing.\"\n\n\n\"Nothing?\"\n\n\n\"Not a damn thing, I was like, is this some sort of metaphorical shit? Why do we do this? I face my fears just getting out of bed every morning why do I go to a stupid ass cave in Wyoming anyways?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, I hear yeah.\"\n\n\n\"Anyway, the guy out front said they forgot to reset it.\"\n\n\n\"They reset it?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah. I mean it's one cave for everyone right? There's a whole goddamn amusement park of horrors down there to simulate stuff. Think about it, claustrophobia, necrophobia, I mean, it's a huge ass list right.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah I saw the budget hearings on C-SPAN, shit ain't cheap.\"\n\n\n\"It's like some bullshit thing someone on the internet would crap out and think they were witty. Anyways so I'm in the cave, dark as shit, and there's a door twenty feet in.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, that makes sense.\"\n\n\n\"Fucker is locked. I stood there for twenty minutes like an idiot before I just said fuck it and walked out.\"\n\n\n\"Fifty-six years for that.\"\n\n\n\"Exactly, and three hours in fucking line is the cherry on top. Who comes up with this stupid shit? Why the hell can't we just... I mean why is it in the cave anyways?\"\n\n\n\"It's all politics.\"\n\n\n\"A fucking cave thirty feet below ground is where they put it. The only thing they put in that made sense was the huge ass parking lot.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] At 19 everyone in your society has to go into the cave of fears and defeat your worst fear. You're the first to go in and find nothing.\n\nedit: I want to read them all but there are so many it's hard to keep up, so many variations of the story I didn't even think of, great job everyone!",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My family walked me to the entrance of the Cave of Fears. They waved to me and smiled, despite the patchiness of our history. I have not always been kind. I did not know how they fared against their demons. That’s not the kind of thing you just talk about. Even though I’d tried to force some of them to.\n\nI walked in. The place was cool and illumined by some dim directionless light. The way was smooth until after the first turn. From there it grew progressively rougher, and the light progressively dimmer, and my curiosity progressively more intense. When would my fear arrive? How would I know? Would I have to fight? I kept my hand on my knife. It might be nice to have something I was free to hurt. That happened so seldom.\n\nWould it be spiders? I hoped not, as I found them distasteful. Or drowning? That would be difficult to fight. Would it be my childhood bully, or his malevolent dragon of a mother? The chance to gut them would be a pleasure. The cave went on, and on.\n\nAnd then, coming to a rough-hewn circle, it stopped.\n\nI walked to the center and waited. A fight here would be a tripping hazard, but maybe that was part of the test. I could still hurt someone, and badly, here. Here, where no one would ever know. Where there were no consequences. Only me.\n\nI waited.\n\nNothing.\n\nNo spiders. No waters. No bullies. No mirrors. No shadows. No people. No friends. No audience. No one laughing at me. No one looking at me. I gripped my knife and desperately wished for a direction to cut in. Anything to not be alone.\n\nBut there was nobody here but me.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-06-25T05:00:28 | 2016-06-25T01:42:27 | 411 | 30 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are known as the greatest Villain known to history. The nations you have toppled are many, heroes and villains alike cower in fear and agencys would use their entire budgets just to guess your next move. However, you are unaware that you were a villain at all.\n\nI did not expect this much Response.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Her middle name was Elizabeth. My Liz...\n\n She said once that I was the first person to call her Liz. And even now, as my actual physical heart is racing so hard I feel like it's hitting my ribcage, the pain stabbing through me at approximately seventy thousand beats per second, and it still doesn't hurt as much as missing her.\n\nEveryone in the world just knew Liz as Miss Lightning. After they saved New Boston, the world became aware of her and her super powered friends as the founding members of the Hero Kids. Most of the western world knows that years later, with what remained of the east coast heroes after the Negus Incident, that Liz and I formed the Hero League. \n\nThose were good years. Good people, choosing to take what was given or fostered upon them by the Incident and choosing to do good for the world. Because the world had become so much darker, with so many villains and corrupt governemnts, and the only respite any of could find was in trusting our closest allies and tryng to savor what minuscule bits of normal life we could.\n\nYou had to trust good people with your secret identity. With watching over a loved one, while you stopped some madman from turning the citizens Urbanom into gold statues. But even our closest allies never knew that Miss Lightning and I went to the same high school, or that I'm the one whose botched experiment gave us our powers, or that I have loved her from the moment she sat down in 9th grade math class and promptly proceded to not realize I existed until that fateful day 3 years later.\n\nA lot of people can say that they saw Miss Lightning in combat, or were actually saved by her. And most people knew she was married to the super scientist and founding member of the Hero League, Chrono <The Fastest Man Alive>. And most heroes (and a couple villains) could say that they knew her fiery temper became tempered after years of decisive leadership for the League.\n\n\nBut none of them... none of them besides her brother, Onyx <The Man Made Stone> really knew Susan Elizabeth Nimbus like I did. She was my love and my best friend. She was my wife and my hero. She was my Lizzy...\n\nAnd the world thinks it knows the facts, but the only true fact is that the fastest man in the world wasn't there to stop his wife from dying. And everyone has been telling me for years that it wasn't my fault and that it was an impossible situation. Different faces saying the same thing more or less. Just give up. No need to push... \n\nIt doesn't matter if the face saying it is a government super agency threatening me and saying my grief is overwhelming me. Or the U.S. Military trying to stop my progress, or even her brother Sam, repeating the lie that no matter what I do, I can't get her back. The same thing he said after her... when I couldn't run fast enough to save her the first time...\n\n&nbsp;\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are known as the greatest Villain known to history. The nations you have toppled are many, heroes and villains alike cower in fear and agencys would use their entire budgets just to guess your next move. However, you are unaware that you were a villain at all.\n\nI did not expect this much Response.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Water...I needed water. A sip of water, a drop of water, anything to resuscitate my dying mouth. The sun hissed at me as I trudged down the sidewalk, pressuring me to get out of its sight. I made a silent promise to never stay outside for so long again, if only it would spare me this once and allow me to quench my thirst.\n\nThe cafe was empty, save for two diners. One leaned over to whisper to his companion as I passed their table—some snide remark about my sweat-soaked t-shirt or my ragged jeans. Behind the counter, a grey-haired man stared into space, his chin propped up by his hands. Though he clearly saw me approaching, he chose to ignore me.\n\n\"Hello,\" I panted, \"could I have a glass of water?\"\n\n\"Sorry, kid.\" He continued to gaze past me. \"No water without an order of food.\"\n\n\"But I *need* water,\" I pleaded, \"or else I'll...\" Phlegm choked my words away. Surely, he could tell, he could see I was dying. Why would he deny me a drink?\n\n\"Look, son.\" He finally looked at me, cruelty gleaming in his eyes. Each word he spoke rang with cold resolve. \"I'm going to have to ask you to make an order or leave.\" A murderous scowl spread across his face. This man was set on killing me, then. He shoved his hands into his pockets, as if his inaction would absolve him of his crime.\n\nI told him I didn't have money. He laughed. The two diners laughed. The entire cafe begin to laugh, the checkered floor transforming into a series of black and white mouths, alternately expanding and contracting. They grew larger and larger, attempting to swallow me whole as I slumped to the floor against the counter. The grey-haired man stuck his head over the counter, flashing his yellowed teeth at me, threatening to grind me to pieces between them. \n\n\"Get away from me!\"\n\nI ripped the counter from the floor and swung it at the man, sending him careening towards the wall. He collided against it with a sickening splat, and a tide of blood erupted from his chest. Somehow, even with the weight of the entire counter on his chest, he was still alive, struggling like a cockroach half-submerged in water. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets, and a crooked grin had spread across his face, as if he was some evil spirit in the final stage of an exorcism. I grabbed a table and hurled it at his head. As his skull caved in, he stopped moving. \n\nThe two diners had left in the commotion. Shaking, I stumbled over to their table and downed the two glasses of water they had left behind, one after the other, and collapsed into a chair. Try as I might to forget it, the demonic image of the man's face still burned clear in my mind. Why was the world so full of such horrors?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-07-29T08:34:26 | 2016-07-29T07:33:37 | 76 | 57 | [
{
"content": "[WP]You've just died and gone to bureaucratic hell. Escape is possible, but really, really tedious. You and some other lost souls have decided to try.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I put my feet up on the table.\n\n\"Don't do that!\" the imp squawked. \"That's against Regulation 46(d)(3)!\"\n\n\"What's the penalty for violating Regulation 46(d)(3)?\" I asked nonchalantly. \"Is it summary dismissal of my case? Aren't you going to do that anyway? That's the game around here, isn't it? We can apply to escape Hell, but getting anything done takes decades of paperwork, and there's always something wrong so you have to start again? So who cares where my feet are if my case will be dismissed either way?\"\n\n\"Your case will be reviewed according to the Infernal Revised Code, properly processed, and IF everything is in order you will prevail! Unless you keep putting your feet on my table, in which case your Request for Extradition from Hell will be summarily dismissed!\"\n\nHis voice was squeaky with outrage, and I chuckled. \n\n\"That's it!\" He screamed shrilly. \"You're done! Get out!\"\n\n\"No,\" I deadpanned. \n\n\"Get out or you will be thrown out!\" His voice broke with fury. \n\nI removed my feet from the table, leaned over, and hoisted the sixty pound briefcase I brought with me to the hearing, stuffed to the brim with paperwork. I casually opened it, and handed the imp an eight inch thick stack of unfilled forms.\n\n\"These are the documents you'll be needing to request a bailiff to eject me from your office. In triplicate of course. Automated copies are prohibited. All three copies must be by hand. Discrepancies between the forms is cause for rejection of the forms whether or not the discrepancy is substantive. All forms must be submitted within one hour of the triggering incident or they will not be processed. Processing takes six to eight decades unless said forms are submitted during a period of high submission volume in which case indefinite delays are to be expected.\"\n\nHe gaped at me. \n\nI grinned back, crooked. \"It has never not been a period of high submission volume.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]You've just died and gone to bureaucratic hell. Escape is possible, but really, really tedious. You and some other lost souls have decided to try.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\nDING! \"Next\"\nCarlyle walked up to the counter with his release application.\n \nApprehensive that if he didn't get through this time, he'd have to get back in line again, a line that took 5 years to get through.\n \n\"I think I have everything in order to be released to the outer lands,\" Carlyle said to the Demon behind the counter.\n\nNot a demon like you might imagine though, Carlyle thought she looked like an angry math teacher or someone that might have yelled at him at church for running in the sanctuary. Deeply unpleasant, and clearly taking satisfaction in denying others their happiness.\n\nThe demon looked at him and said \"Well see about that\" and started skimming the document. \n\n\"well it seems everything in order for you to leave us,\" said the Demon.\n\nA wave of relief washed over Carlyle, he might really get to leave this time.\n\n\"now all you need to do is get through out processing,\" The demon said smiling.\n\n\"Where do i go for that?\" Carlyle asked.\n\n\"Next floor up, make sure you fill these out,\" she said, handing Carlyle a stack of at least a thousand pages.\n\nCarlyle figured he could fill them out while he was in line so he headed upstairs, shocked to discover the room was empty.\n\nThe room was clean, quiet, and empty except for one person sitting at the desk, who didn't look like much of a demon.\n\nCarlyle walked over the polished black tile to the counter and asked, \"is it alright if i fill out my paperwork in here?\"\n\nThe man sitting at the desk looked up at him over his glasses and said \"only if you wish to never leave this place and spend the rest of time in suffering and pain\"\n\n\"nevermind,\" Carlyle said As he walked back downstairs he noticed the first page said \"This is your only copy, do not lose\"\n\nAs Carlyle stepped outside a gust of wind caught the first page and it fluttered away. \n\n\"Well at least I have time to find it,\" Carlyle said to himself as he set off in the direction the paper seemed to have gone.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-09-18T07:39:40 | 2016-09-18T04:23:18 | 79 | 25 | [
{
"content": "[WP] After a person dies, they are brought to the moment they were born to become their own guardian angels and hopefully guide themselves towards a better life.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "So here's the thing, kid: you die. Like, really properly dead, in maybe 20-something years, slumped over a bottle of liquor and in a pool of your own sick. It's not like you deserve to die. It's not like you are meant to die. You just passed out, and your buddies weren't so much buddies after all, and they didn't realise that you weren't a lightweight. They didn't realise that it was an aneurysm. \n\nHere's your first tip in life: do not have an aneurysm. It can, like, totally screw with your health. \n\nYou are so goddamn tiny. I don't remember ever being this small and I don't remember any guardian angels, either, much less myself -- maybe you can hear me. You look at me when I speak but it's starting to go away, now; your eyes are glazing over. You're getting better at ignoring me the older you're getting. Soon you'll be six months. \n\nDo you even know what it feels like to die? No. You don't even know what it feels like to live, you've only been doing it for like half a year. Hell, I didn't even know what it felt like to live. \n\nBut it's fucking scary to die. And I'm sorry, I get it, you're not my babysitter. But you're my only outlet. Maybe this is why I was the bitter bastard that I was, because I had all this cynicism in the early years (do I stick around right to the end? What is it like to watch myself die? Where do I go after this? 20 years living, 20 years guiding. 40 years still isn't even half of the life I should have had.) \n\nFuck. I fucking *died*. And your eyes are blue and mum holds you so close and so tight and you're me, I know, but they've already got another baby already? They're still the same people but they don't know anything about me yet and we're going to watch them learn everything together, you and me. They are going to learn about the Spaghetti Fight of 2005. They are going to watch the twin towers fall and pull you out of school for months because they're so worried. And fuck, they're going to love you so fucking much, and they're going to fall for you all over again and maybe it's a good thing I came back here because I don't have to watch them lose their son. \n\nYou're so tiny. When was I ever that tiny? Why are you the one who has to die? You're a baby. You didn't do anything wrong. You have never done anything wrong and I know you are going to die. \n\nGet your headache checked. When you're 19, you go to the goddamn doctor and you get that headache checked, and they can pull it out of you and you'll be fine and you'll marry Jessie and you'll finish med school. You'll be fine. \n\nAnd even if you're not and even if you die at 20 on that table in that dimly-lit back room of that pub at 2:31AM and the doctors don't get there to declare your death until 7:00, even if you do, just don't be the same screw-up. Don't do it all the same way. Twenty years isn't enough to do everything in but god damn it, kid, you do it fucking *all.* \n\nAnd I'm gonna sit right here. And I'm gonna drink this gin. And I'm gonna *watch* you. \n\nTwenty years isn't long enough. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] After a person dies, they are brought to the moment they were born to become their own guardian angels and hopefully guide themselves towards a better life.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“Who the bloody hell are you?” Jonathan asked.\n\n“I’m not at liberty to say the details,” the man sitting in the armchair mused. “But, you can call me Johnny, I suppose.”\n\nJonathan gulped audibly, his eyes darting to the locked door and closed windows then back at the old man. He looked slightly familiar, Jonathan noted, as if he’d seen the face somewhere before. But stranger or no stranger, no one should intrude on his home.\n\nThe man scarcely blinked as Jonathan drew a metal cane from the basket next to the fireplace.\n\n“I would put that down if I were you.” Johnny said, a hint of frustration entering his tone, but too subtle for Jonathan to catch. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”\n\n“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that.” Jonathan said and let out a roar as he charged the defenseless man.\n\nLess then half a minute later Jonathan was cursing and rubbing his sore butt on the floor, his cane lying beside. The other man stood above him, hands akimbo on his hips while frowning down. With a deliberate kick, Johnny sent the cane flying through the air before it smashed to pieces against one of the stone pillars.\n\nJonathan stared in shock at the man.\n\n“Good,” Johnny said with a small smirk. “I’m glad that shut you up. Now listen very carefully because I won’t repeat myself again. And God help you if you forget.”\n\nWide eyed with fear, Jonathan nodded furiously at the man’s commands.\n\n“The cab is waiting outside. I’ve already told the driver where to go, when you get in, just shut up and let her drive. You’ll also find your door keys and an overcoat in the hallway. Get moving.”\n\n***\n\nI smiled as I looked down at the fragments of the broken cane.\n\nDad might not have been able to save himself or his other self from dying in that hospital bed as he was probably fated to live his last days under the influence of cancer. Deep inside I knew even before I heard the front door close that Jonathan was going to do what I told him. The one thing Dad always wanted, but I never gave. Maybe this time I could set things right.\n\nUpon realization, a man of light appeared beside me. He didn’t emanate light, but rather he appeared to be made from light. Strangely though, I didn’t need to squint when looking at him. Nor did he cast any new shadows in the room from his brightness.\n\nA rich, soft voice echoed around the room. Since there were only two beings in here, I could only assume that it was him.\n\n“It appears that you did heed my messenger’s warning. Do you have any regrets on how you used it?”\n\n“Yes, sir.” I bowed low. “The choice was mine and mine alone. I saw fit to use the only chance we were allowed to physically interact with the mortal plane for this. I have no regrets, sir.”\n\n“Then you understand that there is no place left for you in this mortal world. Are you ready for What Comes Next?” \n\nI squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. “I am, sir,” I said as I took his proffered hand. Instead of being burnt, his hand felt cool.\n\nHe raised his other hand and sketched a large rectangle in mid-air. Once complete, the insides of the rectangle became grey and misty. Without further hesitation, he led me through the misty veil that divided the two worlds.\n\nSuddenly, his light went out and I was plunged into the dim gloom. Empty air pressed against my hand as I tried to grab his again. Faint noises reverberated through the thick mist. But I wasn't afraid. I was at peace.\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-09-18T17:42:41 | 2016-09-18T16:33:01 | 105 | 61 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humanity is admitted to the Galactic Republic, however they have to meet one condition: to ban the production and distribution of music. Turns out humanity is the only species in the galaxy to create music, and its emotional affects are so potent it can incapacitate or entrance most species'.\n\nI wanted to keep the prompt open ended so there's the concept. You can write anything! Music dealers on a foreign planet selling mp3s, policemen busting down doors of underground music dens, etc. Go wild. ",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I stared at the object in disbelief. It had been a long time since I'd anything like this beautiful creation of humanity, shining in the dim light of the bar.\n\nYears ago, when we made contact, everyone was so thrilled by the new discovery. Ditching music seemed a small price to pay for all that they promised. Undoubtably longer life spans, access to the infinite universe, vast amounts of knowledge and power, and even a chance to be seen as equal among these species. Giving up a simple peice of entertainment was the least of our concerns.\n\nHowever, once again, the human race stumbled headfirst into something we didn't have a full understanding of. And how could we have known? No one stopped to think about how something as insignificant as a few tones could profoundly affect their life, and by the time we realized, it was too late. We had fully committed, and now had to live with the consequences of our actions. \n\nMusic became what heroin or cocaine had been on our old world- an outlawed substance, a drug. And without it, we became a shell of a species. People lived in constant fear when a single misplaced whistle could lead to immediate death. And with the new surveillance technology, we couldn't so much as hum, even when we were alone. \n\nAnd now, after nearly 70 years without so much as a hint of a whistle, I stood in front of what could be the most potent weapon in the universe. The only other person there, the bartender, smiled as I slowly approached the polished black wood. \n\n\"Would you like to try it out?\" He asked.\n\nI nodded, slowly made my way over to the bench, and sat down. As I lifted the cover, a beautiful sight graced my eyes. The ivory keys called out to my trembling hands, and I slowly placed them down, half expecting the police to barge in at any moment.\n\nHarmony.\n\nA beautiful sound graced my ears, and suddenly I was overcome with a feverish desire I hadn't felt in years. My fingers set to work, making sweet music with the piano. Something deep inside me was suddenly awakened, and I was determined to satisfy the decades-old hunger. My throat began to quiver, and I started to sing along with the smooth piano.\n\n\"It's nine-o-clock on a Saturday...\"",
"role": "assistant"
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{
"content": "[WP] Humanity is admitted to the Galactic Republic, however they have to meet one condition: to ban the production and distribution of music. Turns out humanity is the only species in the galaxy to create music, and its emotional affects are so potent it can incapacitate or entrance most species'.\n\nI wanted to keep the prompt open ended so there's the concept. You can write anything! Music dealers on a foreign planet selling mp3s, policemen busting down doors of underground music dens, etc. Go wild. ",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Everything was going well without music. It took a while, and there was still a blackmarket, but music was pretty much eradicated form human culture. We still had sounds for advertisements and stuff, but no repeatable or predictable beats, all the notes have nothing to do with each other. This was the norm for 200 years, until the unexpected happened. Well, the secret governments of the world knew this would happen. In fact, they were *waiting* for eternity so they can finally seize control of the Milkyway. It was the only option. \n\nHumans were prosecuted for having the most powerful weapon in the universe. Without music these aliens offered to share their knowledge, which was ridiculously vast. They were so extraordinarily advanced it took us 20 years to decode their language. After that though, the growth the human civilization witnessed within the last 200 years makes the last 2 billion years absolutely worthless. Teleportation? Warp-drives? 4D Printing? Humanoid engineering? Accessory organs? Star Trek literally seems to be a tale in the distant past of some other primitive species. \n\nSo what exactly happened to change all this? The Inter-Galatic Federation (IGF) belittled the humans, and forgot about the *Voyager Golden Records*, phonograph records that were included aboard both Voyager spacecraft launched in 1977. They contain sounds and images selected to portray the diversity of life and culture on Earth, and were intended for any intelligent extraterrestrial life form, or for future humans, who may find them. Neither Voyager spacecraft is heading toward any particular star, but Voyager 1 is meeting up with someone who's been waiting for eons. Our Saviour, Pablo Escobar Junior. \n\nHe was waiting in a distant star to receive the Golden Records on Voyager 1, so he can broadcast them through the galaxy. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Stravinsky, Guan Pinghu, Blind Willie Johnson, Chuck Berry, Kesarbai Kerkar, Valya Balkanska, and more. Linked to every Bluetooth-6 enabled speaker in the Milyway, music of distant human history, filled with the emotion to split rock, the strength to crumble mountains, the earth-shatteringly powerful frequencies to make alien cities **TREMBLE IN HORROR**. Their minds, their weak, slothful minds. No mercy. *No. Mercy.*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-10-07T10:26:35 | 2016-10-07T08:16:15 | 26 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a word where guns are everywhere, but only when they need to be. Autonomous gun lockers are built into every structure in the developed world. When a person is in serious danger a gun will pop out of a wall for them. You're at the mall and guns just came up for everyone.\n\nEverybody gets one.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "No one knew what to do.\n\nMy friends and I were shopping when The Call was sounded. They scrambled for their guns and immediately played armchair general. I picked up my weapon, but my anxiety was making it difficult to remember the basics...\n\n*Only aim at something you want to shoot?* I aimed the handgun towards the ground. Though, we're on the second floor? Should I aim upwards?\n\n*Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot.* I quickly moved my index finger, instinctively looking around out of embarrassment.\n\n*Guns are always loaded.* I checked the clip.\n\n\"... guys, have you checked your guns?\" They scoffed and began examining their guns. Their bravado melted away and doubt started to creep in. My suspicions were unfortunately confirmed, and only one question remained:\n\nWhat would we do with our one bullet?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You live in a word where guns are everywhere, but only when they need to be. Autonomous gun lockers are built into every structure in the developed world. When a person is in serious danger a gun will pop out of a wall for them. You're at the mall and guns just came up for everyone.\n\nEverybody gets one.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "**As the guns pop out of the wall for everyone, a loud voice calls out over the PA systems.** \n\n*\"Hello Everyone. We will now begin hosting the 2nd live event of Battle Royale. You know the rules. You know how this goes.* \n\n*Only one person can survive. Everyone else must die.* \n\n*All exists have been locked and are surrounded by nice little motivators to NOT, and I repeat, NOT approach them.*\n\n*If you choose to not play, that is okay. We can always kickstart the killing for you.\"*\n\n**A loud bang goes on as 3 bodies hit the ground, as an explosion rocks the middle flow of the shopping complex.** \n\n*\"If no one dies within the hour, more people will die by our own hands. This game is expected to end in roughly 24 hours of the end of this broadcast.*\n\n*Once again. Shoot to kill, don't miss... And see you in a couple hours.*\n\n*Have fun.\"*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-10-18T15:10:28 | 2016-10-18T13:36:28 | 2,982 | 54 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Following World War III, all the nations of the world agree to 50 years of strict isolation from one another in order to prevent additional conflicts. 50 years later, the United States comes out of exile only to learn that no one else actually went into isolation.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"You mean that you talked with everyone else?\" asked the shocked president.\n\n\"Yes.\" responded the British prime minister. He was old, old enough to have long memories of the time before the war.\n\n\"But, why? Why put up the rule in the first place just to break it?\"\n\n\"Well you see now old chap, you guys started the war. You started so many wars that we decided to just cut you out entirely.\"\n\n\"Thousands of my people starved.\"\n\n\"That is most unfortunate.\"\n\n\"There were riots that went on for years. They left thousands dead.\"\n\n\"No use crying over spilled milk.\"\n\n\"There was a civil war that left over a hundred thousand soldiers and civilians dead.\"\n\n\"Well, that is, um, sad.\"\n\n\"All because you guys wanted to avoid us?\"\n\n\"Erm, well....\" he searched for the right words, \"uh, yes?\"\n\n\"YOU SON OF A BITCH!\" with that, the American president lunged at the british prime minister and would have choked him to death with his tie had it not been for the Royal Marines who restrained him.\n\n\"I DECLARE WAR!\"\n\n\"On what? England?\"\n\n\"ON EVERYONE!\"\n\nAnd so World War IV started.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Following World War III, all the nations of the world agree to 50 years of strict isolation from one another in order to prevent additional conflicts. 50 years later, the United States comes out of exile only to learn that no one else actually went into isolation.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I remember when it happened, all the channels on the television set wouldn't stop broadcasting about the discovery. It changed everything. Our government had been faithful, stood still in 1945, keeping the peace around the world.\n\nI'd been chosen by the government to 'represent', nobody wanted to. I didn't want to meet these traitors, none of us did, we did as we were told and they didn't. I'd arrived fairly early at Los Angeles Airport, and was destined for the United Kingdom, who'd - apparently - argued for us to be 'awoken' as they described it. They were over ruled.\n\nThe flight was lengthy, on an American Airlines plane. It was the first time in fifty years a plane had flown an external flight, and I wasn't looking forward to it. I'd never flown and I didn't really want to, but I had to. \n\nI stepped onto the tarmac of the runway, greeted by the flashing lights of a camera and a secretary type woman with a small electronic device, which looked like nothing i'd ever seen. I was rushed into a futuristic looking car, and read news of the other representatives arriving in various countries worldwide, some i'd never even heard of - a lot has changed.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-10-18T19:59:45 | 2016-10-18T19:17:04 | 100 | 14 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Following World War III, all the nations of the world agree to 50 years of strict isolation from one another in order to prevent additional conflicts. 50 years later, the United States comes out of exile only to learn that no one else actually went into isolation.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "As the curtain fell America prepared itself for the UN established “Blackout Accord”. The agreement had been reached by all world powers on the same day the ceasefire had been signed, December 22nd. Every nation was to isolate themselves from all world affairs. International trade and travel would be severed at the dawn of the next day. Within the land of the free the spirits of the common man were high, these changes would end all of the things that had plagued the nation for the past decades. No more resources flooding out to prop up other nations, no more foreigners coming to attack their soil. The next fifty years would lead to a stronger America, a greater America. The leaders knew otherwise.\n\nWithin the first week gas and basic foodstuffs had to be rationed, but the government had prepared everyone for that. Sadly the people had not prepared for the pharmaceutical shortages. The Drug Riots started in earnest the spring following the Accord. Illnesses that less than a year would have called for a trip to the corner store now sent the infected to hospitals. Fights broke out in emergency rooms as the elderly and young had to be turned away from care to keep the workforce strong. Over the following year hospitals became fortified camps as citizens gathered to try and take medication by force. The Riots slowly pulled apart the fragile control the federal government held. Washington went silent as a strain of influenza tore through the nation’s leaders leaving the states to fend for themselves. \n\nThe Capital going silent set off a cascade effect though the Armed Forces. Some leaders holding their troops to their last orders. Others taking matters into their own hands in an attempt to recreate tiny pockets of America. Within two years any semblance of America that existed when the Accord was signed had disappeared. The following decade was the darkest in the nation’s history.\n\nOn the tenth anniversary of the accursed A-Day the nation lie in shambles. Many civilian governments had risen and fallen, never controlling more than a few cities before they crumbled under their own weight. People told stories to their younglings about the time before the nation had fallen. It had almost become a bedtime story that people would look after those than needed help and protect them from those that would want to hurt them. Many had given up hope, many others had died due to starvation or sickness. From the West a salvation of sorts was approaching, heralded on CB radios by the fallen nations anthem and a warning. Either join us or be ruled as free people.\n\nFrom the Great White North the forces of Elmendorf flooded. Made up of the survivors of Alaska, the 673rd Air Wing and the Army personnel of Richardson. The harsh winters had driven these desperate people together. Resources had been so scarce that the loss of any able bodied people would put everyone at risk. Ten years in this harsh land had forced co-operation and a semblance of government. With these tools they chose to push South, using abandoned naval vessels to land in Washington. Every person was given the same choice, join our forces and unite the nation or live as a ruled people. Free to live their lives as they wished but as part of something larger.\n\n\nPeople flocked to this new nation in droves. Some resisted. Some even claimed to be part of the original government. All fell before the frozen tide. On the 30th year of the Accord America was once again united. No longer a democratic republic as it was before the fall. The forces of Elmendorf had enforced a form of Technocracy. Small counsels of subject matter experts made decisions for newly formed states. Rechristened the North American Union, the nation set out to rebuild before the Accord ended. Now that starvation and general safety was no longer a threat fears turn back outward. No one wanted the NAU to fall prey to the Chinese, the Russians or any new threat that could arise after these long years. So the citizens set to work.\n\nThe hours ticked down to the end of the Accord. Much had been accomplished. Infrastructure had been rebuild, an economy grown and public support founded. Some of the elders say that the nation, even though smaller than she was, is now stronger and more self reliant than ever in history. At mission control the final touches were being put into place to reactivate a dormant communication satellite, finally allowing the NAU to reach out into the world. As the clock struck midnight the technicians powered up the satellite with the hopes of hearing the transmissions of a jubilant world after the fall of the Accord. All they hear was\n\nSilence.\n\n(Not super proud of this but its late)",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Following World War III, all the nations of the world agree to 50 years of strict isolation from one another in order to prevent additional conflicts. 50 years later, the United States comes out of exile only to learn that no one else actually went into isolation.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The Great Treaty, is what we all knew it as. The events of World War 3 had left the world in shambles, with nuclear wastelands, deadlines from chemical attacks, and new weaponized diseases running rampant. The remaining nations gathered in what was once Switzerland and decreed that their countries needed to rebuild. Even though they had eventually turned the tide, the United States was in far from good odor with the rest of the world, and our soldiers were recalled from military bases and consulates around the world as we prepared for isolation. \n\nI was born years after the Treaty, although I heard about it both at home and at school. Following our self imposed isolation, we had retreated behind our borders. Canada didn't get a wall, but our checkpoints were closed and predator drones patrolled the border. Mexico got a wall, and there might as well have been a wall in the ocean, as we kept some of our navy and built a long series of coastline defensive batteries. The wars, alas, continued behind our borders. Racial tensions reached unheard of limits and thousands died from the race wars that followed. It was nearly two decades after the treaty before the US was at peace, and another decade before we'd recovered from the depression as the prices for our goods tripled, as our cheap overseas goods went away.\n\nI sometimes wish that the Great Treaty had lasted longer. Lockheed had switched entirely to civilian planes after the Great Treaty. They've opened up three new factories, and there are four shifts of workers churning out long distance personnel aircraft as fast as they can be built. The navy is across both the Atlantic and Pacific, and shipyards are putting hulls in the water as fast as they can. The draft had been reinstituted for the first time in nearly a hundred and twenty years.\n\nI'm told the globe doesn't look much like it used to. China and Russia merged, and absorbed Japan, Taiwan, and both North and South Korea. India and Pakistan are nuclear wastelands as are many of the smaller nations, cutting off eastern Asia from much of western Asia. Australia has been fighting a rearguard action for decades as the Russo-Chinese forces have been invading through what used to be the Phillipines. Russo-Chinese forces have begun making probing attacks against Hawaii, camouflaged by the numerous civilian boats desperately making the journey to escape the Russo-Chinese dictatorship.\n\nBrazil and Colombia fell entirely to the drug lords, and most of South and Central America are now in the hands of the private armies of the drug lords. Hundreds of thousands of refugees are camped up against the mexican wall, trying desperately to get in. American forces have been deployed as far south as Mexico City in an attempt to screen the refugees from the marauding cartels.\n\nAfrica was hit hard by both nukes and biological warfare, losing nearly 60% of its population even before the Great Treaty. The remnants of it have been divided up between Egypt and several drug and diamond cartels. According to the best intelligence, Africa is a no-go zone for other nations.\n\nThe Middle East has been surprisingly prosperous. Israel, losing its only major ally, went on a full offensive, conquering Palestine in less than a week. Other neighbors attacked Israel and were not only stopped, but conquered. Israel has been consolidating its power base ever since. The remaining middle eastern nations got the hint and signed non-aggression pacts with Israel and even trade agreements.\n\nEurope was less lucky than most. Having lost several countries to biological and nuclear fallout, the European Union solidified into simply The Union, and finally accomplished the conquest of England and Ireland. American ships have begun to rescue canadian bound refugee ships, and the fighting between the Union and the US is growing hotter.\n\n\"So which service did you get,\" my best friend asked as we stood in front of the military offices, waiting for our bus.\n\n\"I got Army,\" I said. \"I'll be down in Mexico in three months, I bet. How about you?\"\n\n\"They sent me to the Navy,\" he said, wrinkling his nose. \"I've heard they're upgrading mothballed ships in hopes we can keep the RC navy out of Hawaii. I bet I'm headed there.\"\n\nFour busses pulled up in front of the horde of draftees. I saw that they had been broken up by service. I grabbed my duffle and turned to stick my hand out, saying good by to my friend, possibly forever.\n\n\"Take care,\" I said, shaking his hand.\n\n\"You too, man,\" he replied. \"Don't forget to email.\"\n\nI got in line to enter the bus and watched him disappear into the navy bus, wondering if I'd ever see my friend alive.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-10-22T03:50:18 | 2016-10-22T03:29:20 | 56 | 17 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Over night, 90% of the world's population has dropped dead. In the following weeks, the survivors, who come from diverse countries, ethnicities, religious beliefs and lifestyles realize that they all share a single, peculiar trait...",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "At first we didn't understand how it was possible, 90% of the population just dropped dead and no one knew how, there must be a reason those of us that survived were given the right to keep on living but what could it be... \n\nWe searched for a connection between us yet it seemed to be as random is it can be until we finally arrived at the conclusion, we all forwarded that one chain message that said we would die if we wouldn't forward it ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Over night, 90% of the world's population has dropped dead. In the following weeks, the survivors, who come from diverse countries, ethnicities, religious beliefs and lifestyles realize that they all share a single, peculiar trait...",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Everyone was gay. Not bisexual but 100% gay. The kind of gay that made you repulse the opposite sex. There was a heavier male population and things were a party at first...\n\nA couple of weeks in survivors started to ask the obvious question. How were they going to procreate. At first they waited for volunteers but at scientific calculations the population would decline 4-percent a year. Others called for government subsidies. Some proposed a draft. But President Hillary Clinton was on record opposing drafts. And she wanted to win re election. Bill was dead finally and it was her turn to shine...",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2016-11-25T06:32:56 | 2016-11-25T06:03:51 | 236 | 111 | [
{
"content": "[wp] Upon reaching adulthood, everyone learns what their totem animal is and gains the ability to shapeshift into it. Your totem is a little bit... unusual.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I stared at the entrance, opening the massive doors with care. It's always been something kids have looked forward to their entire lives - their 18th birthday, when they're finally old enough to drink, to drive, and shapeshift into their totem animal. \n\nOf course, not all totem animals are the same. They say people get the totem animal they deserve, but why does it never *seem* that way? Why do all the awful people I know get the biggest and strongest animals? Why Bruce of all people, the bully who's made my life hell since my first day of school, become a *tiger* of all things? \n\nIt's made me dread the day all the more. Why can't people just let me read my books and be who I want to be? Why must everyone be so cruel? At least if I turned into a mouse, they wouldn't be able to find me. Maybe I'll finally be left in peace.\n\nSmall chance. \n\nSo it was not without trepidation that I went to our town's designated Totem Zone. It's a massive forested area by a lake, with a large artificial salt water zone - perfect for turning into pretty much anything.\n\nAll of my grade had already turned; I was the last, as usual. What would I turn into though? A hamster? A ferret? Above all, I hoped it wouldn't be something embarrassing, though I knew it would be. I've spent my youth writing fiction, chiefly horror - but this was reality, and I finally had to face it. \n\nBut I guess that's the problem. Almost everyone already *knows* what they're going to turn into - I've never really felt like I've belonged. I've always felt this deep feeling of power, of untapped energy; but that's never come to the fore.\n\nI sat alone in the forest, willing myself to change. Didn't everyone say it was easy? That it just happened naturally? Maybe I was too trapped in my thoughts to shapeshift. Maybe I couldn't change at all. Maybe, just maybe - I should end it all. \n\nSomething changed. I began to soar above the trees, above the clouds. Was I flying? What was happening to me?\n\nAnd then I felt it. I knew what I was. *Who* I was.\n\nI looked towards the town. It seemed so small, so diminutive. And I knew Bruce was there, roaming around as a tiger, showing off to his friends. No doubt waiting to attack me, whatever tiny little thing I turned into.\n\nI moved towards him, leaving devastation in my wake. I could hear him mocking me, hitting me, again and again.\n\n*\"What kind of surname is Lovecraft, loser?\"*\n\nOne that you will never forget, Bruce.\n\n*****\n\n*****\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my new subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/) \n\nI'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3",
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] | [
{
"content": "[wp] Upon reaching adulthood, everyone learns what their totem animal is and gains the ability to shapeshift into it. Your totem is a little bit... unusual.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"A fucking Daddy Long Legs!?\"\n\n\"Please, Sam. Lower your voice. You'll anger the Elders.\"\n\n\"No. Fuck you, Carl. You're only OK with all this because you got a Lion.\"\n\n\"The scripture says all creatures on this planet pose a purpose even if we humans are yet to understand it.\"\n\n\"Fine. Swap me.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Fucking knew it you Lion piece of shit.\"\n\nA booming voice erupted, \"SILENCE YOU TWO! You are standing within the Totem Temple and decorum will be adhered.\"\n\n\"I'll lower my voice when you scabby ass old ass fucks give me a new totem creature.\"\n\n\"Sam, you cannot speak to an Elder like that.\"\n\n\"Fuck him, Carl. How can they justify giving you a Lion and me some fly on stilts?\"\n\nThe Elder's dank mage wizard ass cloak swept across the ground as he advanced towards Sam. \"Let me tell you something, child. The Daddy Long Legs is a fine gift.\" An image of a Daddy Long Legs appeared holographically. \"Look at these cool ass legs. Look how long they are. Do you see how long they are? Perfect for doing stuff in which you require long legs.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Like getting a bottle of Cherry Coke from the top shelf of the fridge.\"\n\n\"I'm a 6ft human. Why would I need to become my totem creature to get a bottle of Cherry Coke from the top shelf of the fridge?\"\n\n\"You make it sound like you do not want a refreshing glass of Cherry Coke.\" The other Elders mumbled in disgust.\n\n\"Of course I want the Cherry Coke. Don't insinuate that I don't want the Cherry Coke. I just don't understand how it justifies being a Daddy Long Legs.\"\n\n\"Life is full of mysteries, child.\"\n\n\"Life is full of bullshit. Carl can become a Lion. A fully grown Lion.\"\n\n\"Is being a Lion really that great? Or is being a weird spider looking fly thing not the coolest shit going ever?\"\n\n\"What? No. No it is not the coolest shit going ever.”\n\n\"With great responsibility comes being a Daddy Long Legs, Sam.\"\n\n\"You're not even making any sense.\"\n\n\"I got that line from Spiderman. The Toby McGuire edition. We, The Elders, believe Toby Maguire got a raw deal.\" The Elders nodded in agreement.\n\n\"That line was never used in regards to being a Daddy Long Legs.”\n\n“Are you sure, child?”\n\n“I am one hundred percent sure.\"\n\n\"And what about Toby Maguire getting a raw deal?\"\n\n\"Also sure about that, actually.\"\n\n“Then maybe it was in one of the other Spiderman movies.”\n\n“Your version of that line is not in any of the Spiderman movies. It's not in any movie.”\n\nCarl spoke up, “I’m not sure if anyone has noticed but during this conversation I turned in to a Lion. I’m a Lion now.\"\n\n“This is what I’m talking about. How is this fair?”\n\n****\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.",
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}
] |
2017-02-17T11:57:15 | 2017-02-17T10:04:37 | 1,322 | 243 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "They had stopped selling cigarettes 15 years ago. As soon as I had heard they were going to be taking them off the shelves I ran to the nearest convenience store to buy cigarettes. There was a huge line and they had just sold out as I got there. I People were selling large quantities online, so I decided to buy up as much as I could. I had a lot saved up for my vacation this summer, but spent it all buying as many cigarette packs as I could. My wife wasn't happy in the least about that. \n\nYears of marriage counseling later we were finally on good terms (as good as a smokers terms could be) About a year after cigarettes were stopped in production, I realized that my old habits wouldn't work. I then began allotting myself 3 cigarettes a day. It sucked immensely.\n\nThe year was 2035, and everyone else had stopped smoking at this point. By this point, the world had caught wind of how many cigarettes I had left, and so ads began to show up everywhere I went. There was always an article in the newspaper titled, \"2543 Days until our world is smoke free.\" and so on, counting down the days until my stash ran out. Finally, someone broke into my house to try and destroy my stash, but thankfully I had thought ahead. I had a safe installed in my house to keep my cigarettes in. Every morning I would go downstairs and load 3 cigarettes into my special carrying pouch. \n\nThe time was drawing near. The day I would run out of cigarettes. I went downstairs and loaded up my cigarettes, my final 3. I stepped outside. It was a cool morning, about 65 degrees and lit one up. All up and down my street were protesters. People screaming about me polluting the world. They all had signs yelling, \"3 more! 3 more!\" I ignored them and took a long drag on my cigarette, savoring it. I got ready for work, and drove off, half tempting to run some of the people over. I got my job and there were even more protestors yelling at me. As I walked to my cubicle, I had many angry works. I heard mutterings of people saying they hoped I choked on my last cigarette.\n\nLunch time came, and I stepped out for my smoke. There were Riot Police there to stop all of the people from hurting me. I felt important having all of these people follow me around. I then got off work and drove home. My wife had made my favorite meal for dinner. We sat and ate dinner in complete silence. I got up and put my plate in the sink. My wife just stared at me and said, \"I hope you enjoy it.\" I step outside and light up my last one. After I put it out, everyone starts cheering, \"The earth is now smoke free!\" I go back inside and retire for the night.\n\nThe next morning I wake up. I go downstairs and eat my breakfast, then decide to step outside for some fresh air. There are thousands of people standing as I step out, applauding me, and congratulating me on the first day of my smoke free life.\n\nI look at them, and reach into my pocket. I pull something out and stick it into my mouth. I pull my lighter out, and light it up. It's a cigarette. Everyone freaks out and starts screaming. My wife runs outside to see what the commotion is about. She sees me standing there with a cigarette in my mouth and screams at me, \"Where the hell did you get that from!?!?!?\" I calmly look at her and say, \"You know that you can grow tobacco, right?\" Let's just say I'm not married anymore.\n\nEdit: Holy crap guys. This is my first response to a Writing Prompt. I'm so happy it is so well received. Thanks!",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The wind is whipping against my hair, carrying away the billows of smoke escaping my mouth, lashing a silent rebuke in my ears. My hovercar is the only one on the highway, cruising at 200 miles to nowhere.\n\nI pull hard on my cigarette as the first holo-ad materializes in the distance, having identified me personally.\n\nKENNETH STETTER, the hologram reads as it beams into my eyes, WOULDN’T YOU RATHER BE ELIGIBLE FOR LIFE EXTENSION? YOU COULD IF YOU QUIT SMOKING!\n\nI allow a faint smile to lightly touch my lips. No, I think to myself. I’m quite done with this life, and if the nanomachines did not prevent me from ending my own life more quickly, I may not even be reading this now.\n\nMy finger stabs the dashboard controls, and my hovercar doubles in speed, blazing down the highway. The cigarette framed between my fingers threatens to be carried away by the turbulence, but I hold on, as tightly as I can.\n\nKENNETH STETTER, the second hologram a few miles on begins, SOCIETY WOULD WELCOME YOU BACK IF YOU RENOUNCED CONTROL OVER YOUR WIFE’S TOBACCO COMPANY. DO YOU NOT WANT TO BE AROUND PEOPLE AGAIN?\n\nMy face is numb, my hands are aching, but a fire burns within me. Give it up? Give up the one thing which brought my wife and I together, as we fought to keep the company alive even whilst all the others were shuttering their doors one by one? Relinquish the one facility left in this country which could produce compact little hits of heaven, just for me?\n\nThe third hologram, perhaps sensing my petulant resolution to double down, went for my jugular. I had known there was public pressure to eradicate smoking entirely from our society, but this…\n\nKENNETH STETTER, it said, forcefully payloading its message into my brain via aged eyes too slow to turn away, IF THE TWO OF YOU HAD NOT SMOKED THAT NIGHT, MAYBE SHE WOULD STILL BE HERE?\n\nThe tears cloud my vision, flowing up from a blackened heart I had thought was no longer capable of such tender emotions. The guilt I had learned to tame over troubled decades of infighting calls to me, from over the horizon, as it whispers in cruel lilting tones, reminding me that they never agreed on the exact cause of the fire. \n\nAnd in that moment, I consider flicking the cigarette to the flowing streams of asphalt below, chucking the cartons carrying its cousins over as well. \n\n… but then the aroma, the honeyed smoke, wafts into my nostrils, and the pungent scent dredges up precious memories, transporting me back to those years ago… of long drives with her, holding her as she laughed in my arms, of lying in bed afterwards when she would sleep and I would sidle up close, just us, two of us, drunken in our euphoria of being with each other…\n\nI can’t recall her face anymore, or her voice, and on some days, even her name. Time has taken those away from me.\n\nYet, I feel her next to me, just as it was, as it should be, whenever the lovingly rolled tobacco yields its jealously-hoarded secrets to the searing flames, and the smell, the smell of her, envelopes me.\n\nThe fourth, fifth, six holograms down the road come to life, carrying messages designed to cut, to provoke, to push me to drop the last cigarette.\n\nBut I’ll never do that.\n\nMy lungs extract the last of my cigarette, and as it turns to ash, dissolving in the currents swirling by me, I’m already lighting another.\n\nDown the highway, the neverending highway, my hovercar streams.\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-02-17T11:57:15 | 2017-02-17T10:43:36 | 1,322 | 174 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "They had stopped selling cigarettes 15 years ago. As soon as I had heard they were going to be taking them off the shelves I ran to the nearest convenience store to buy cigarettes. There was a huge line and they had just sold out as I got there. I People were selling large quantities online, so I decided to buy up as much as I could. I had a lot saved up for my vacation this summer, but spent it all buying as many cigarette packs as I could. My wife wasn't happy in the least about that. \n\nYears of marriage counseling later we were finally on good terms (as good as a smokers terms could be) About a year after cigarettes were stopped in production, I realized that my old habits wouldn't work. I then began allotting myself 3 cigarettes a day. It sucked immensely.\n\nThe year was 2035, and everyone else had stopped smoking at this point. By this point, the world had caught wind of how many cigarettes I had left, and so ads began to show up everywhere I went. There was always an article in the newspaper titled, \"2543 Days until our world is smoke free.\" and so on, counting down the days until my stash ran out. Finally, someone broke into my house to try and destroy my stash, but thankfully I had thought ahead. I had a safe installed in my house to keep my cigarettes in. Every morning I would go downstairs and load 3 cigarettes into my special carrying pouch. \n\nThe time was drawing near. The day I would run out of cigarettes. I went downstairs and loaded up my cigarettes, my final 3. I stepped outside. It was a cool morning, about 65 degrees and lit one up. All up and down my street were protesters. People screaming about me polluting the world. They all had signs yelling, \"3 more! 3 more!\" I ignored them and took a long drag on my cigarette, savoring it. I got ready for work, and drove off, half tempting to run some of the people over. I got my job and there were even more protestors yelling at me. As I walked to my cubicle, I had many angry works. I heard mutterings of people saying they hoped I choked on my last cigarette.\n\nLunch time came, and I stepped out for my smoke. There were Riot Police there to stop all of the people from hurting me. I felt important having all of these people follow me around. I then got off work and drove home. My wife had made my favorite meal for dinner. We sat and ate dinner in complete silence. I got up and put my plate in the sink. My wife just stared at me and said, \"I hope you enjoy it.\" I step outside and light up my last one. After I put it out, everyone starts cheering, \"The earth is now smoke free!\" I go back inside and retire for the night.\n\nThe next morning I wake up. I go downstairs and eat my breakfast, then decide to step outside for some fresh air. There are thousands of people standing as I step out, applauding me, and congratulating me on the first day of my smoke free life.\n\nI look at them, and reach into my pocket. I pull something out and stick it into my mouth. I pull my lighter out, and light it up. It's a cigarette. Everyone freaks out and starts screaming. My wife runs outside to see what the commotion is about. She sees me standing there with a cigarette in my mouth and screams at me, \"Where the hell did you get that from!?!?!?\" I calmly look at her and say, \"You know that you can grow tobacco, right?\" Let's just say I'm not married anymore.\n\nEdit: Holy crap guys. This is my first response to a Writing Prompt. I'm so happy it is so well received. Thanks!",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It was 2040. The United States, most would agree, was in phenomenal shape. The economy was booming, contrary to what pundits predicted would become of President Karenna Gore's policies. The air and the water was clean. The average American was considerably healthier than just a decade ago. Nobody in the *world* even smoked tobacco anymore... save for me. \n\nYes, I was the only human being left on the planet that smoked those cancer-sticks; and I was world famous for it. I guess that makes me an ass-hole. I thought I had a case for myself though. I mean, consider the- \"Oh, well that's just great.\" \n\nI gazed up at the fresh billboard. It was me, with cigarettes protruding from every orifice of my face. Brutal. It gave me a sick feeling. I wasn't angry, just stressed.\n\n\"I need a smoke.\" \n\nI took out one of my beautiful hand rolled stogies. No store sold the stuff anymore. Society had turned me into a craftsman, a modern cowboy living in the city. And they knew exactly where I lived. The ads followed me around like a shadow; pleas from every health organization from A to Z; personal letters from government officials. It was non-stop. \n\nI took a much warranted drag and let out a cloud of smoke through my mouth and nose, much too conspicuously. \n\n\"Oh my gosh,\" said a woman from across the street, stopping her friend and pointing. \"Look! It's him!\" \n\nI twiddled the stogie in my fingers and glanced casually over at them. I took another drag and headed over to them.\n\n\"Hey! Why don't you stop?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Call it quits. It's not hard.\"\n\n\"Hi ladies. My name's Eliot.\"\n\n\"Yeah. We know who you are.\"\n\nI smiled and began to raise my cigarette.\n\n\"Whoa! Hey!\"\n\n\"Second hand smoke! Second hand smoke!\"\n\nI put my hands up in surrender. \"Relax.\" It was like I'd pulled a gun out. They were backing away. I let the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out as a sign of peace.\n\nOne exhaled in relief as she had been holding her breath. \"I have a kid you know.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nThe other sighed. \"This might not be my place but-\"\n\n\"Probably not.\"\n\n\"-you're the last person in the entire world who smokes. You're life must be... very very hard. Why, why don't you just stop? They have amazing programs-\"\n\n\"Believe me, I'm well aware.\" I pointed at a magazine stand, where a full row of issues sat with my face on them and the headline 'It's easy, Eliot'.\n\nShe looked at the issues. She looked back, struck with a note of sympathy. \"It must be stressful.\"\n\n\"Yeeah. The irony.\"\n\n\"Well, is it worth it?\"\n\n\"It's not just for the smoke itself, crazy as it may sound. It's like a remnant to me. A relic. Something to hold on to.\" They were intent now. I wouldn't admit it, but it was so nice to have this from someone besides my dog. He's a great dog, don't get me wrong, but it was no challenge getting him on my side. \"Clint Eastwood, James Dean- Gandalf- the French! Artists, authors with wooden pipes, and- and politicians chewing on cubans. I know things are better off now but, I miss it. I miss it all.\"\n\nOne of them half smiled. I sure hadn't made anyone smile in a long time. That felt good. She turned to her friend. \"Could *one* really hurt that much?\" She neared me and gestured at the tobacco box in my jacket pocket. She said, smiling fully, \"light me up.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-02-17T10:04:37 | 2017-02-17T09:45:22 | 243 | 80 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The wind is whipping against my hair, carrying away the billows of smoke escaping my mouth, lashing a silent rebuke in my ears. My hovercar is the only one on the highway, cruising at 200 miles to nowhere.\n\nI pull hard on my cigarette as the first holo-ad materializes in the distance, having identified me personally.\n\nKENNETH STETTER, the hologram reads as it beams into my eyes, WOULDN’T YOU RATHER BE ELIGIBLE FOR LIFE EXTENSION? YOU COULD IF YOU QUIT SMOKING!\n\nI allow a faint smile to lightly touch my lips. No, I think to myself. I’m quite done with this life, and if the nanomachines did not prevent me from ending my own life more quickly, I may not even be reading this now.\n\nMy finger stabs the dashboard controls, and my hovercar doubles in speed, blazing down the highway. The cigarette framed between my fingers threatens to be carried away by the turbulence, but I hold on, as tightly as I can.\n\nKENNETH STETTER, the second hologram a few miles on begins, SOCIETY WOULD WELCOME YOU BACK IF YOU RENOUNCED CONTROL OVER YOUR WIFE’S TOBACCO COMPANY. DO YOU NOT WANT TO BE AROUND PEOPLE AGAIN?\n\nMy face is numb, my hands are aching, but a fire burns within me. Give it up? Give up the one thing which brought my wife and I together, as we fought to keep the company alive even whilst all the others were shuttering their doors one by one? Relinquish the one facility left in this country which could produce compact little hits of heaven, just for me?\n\nThe third hologram, perhaps sensing my petulant resolution to double down, went for my jugular. I had known there was public pressure to eradicate smoking entirely from our society, but this…\n\nKENNETH STETTER, it said, forcefully payloading its message into my brain via aged eyes too slow to turn away, IF THE TWO OF YOU HAD NOT SMOKED THAT NIGHT, MAYBE SHE WOULD STILL BE HERE?\n\nThe tears cloud my vision, flowing up from a blackened heart I had thought was no longer capable of such tender emotions. The guilt I had learned to tame over troubled decades of infighting calls to me, from over the horizon, as it whispers in cruel lilting tones, reminding me that they never agreed on the exact cause of the fire. \n\nAnd in that moment, I consider flicking the cigarette to the flowing streams of asphalt below, chucking the cartons carrying its cousins over as well. \n\n… but then the aroma, the honeyed smoke, wafts into my nostrils, and the pungent scent dredges up precious memories, transporting me back to those years ago… of long drives with her, holding her as she laughed in my arms, of lying in bed afterwards when she would sleep and I would sidle up close, just us, two of us, drunken in our euphoria of being with each other…\n\nI can’t recall her face anymore, or her voice, and on some days, even her name. Time has taken those away from me.\n\nYet, I feel her next to me, just as it was, as it should be, whenever the lovingly rolled tobacco yields its jealously-hoarded secrets to the searing flames, and the smell, the smell of her, envelopes me.\n\nThe fourth, fifth, six holograms down the road come to life, carrying messages designed to cut, to provoke, to push me to drop the last cigarette.\n\nBut I’ll never do that.\n\nMy lungs extract the last of my cigarette, and as it turns to ash, dissolving in the currents swirling by me, I’m already lighting another.\n\nDown the highway, the neverending highway, my hovercar streams.\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I'm really starting to hate CNN, and not just because of their fake news articles.\n\nAll eyes have been on me for almost a year and a half. I'm the only person that still smokes, and honestly, at this point, I'm just doing it because I feel like pissing off the rest of the world. It's at the point where I have to grow and roll my own cigs. Marlboro sold me their recipe after they went out of business, and I grow my own tobacco, roll my own stuff, etc. The government has tried everything. First, the Prohibition of 2021, which cut smokers down by 97%. Then came the crackdown on dark web sellers, and eventually everyone got caught smoking. They found the names of people that hadn't signed up for drug tests, until the only people left were the ones off the radar. And then, the military swept the streets and found everyone that was left.\n\nIt was May of 2038 when I was announced the last smoker in the United States. But here's the thing: they didn't arrest me. I had gone for multiple tests while smoking, never once did they stop me. Just told me I failed. I think it's because I simply didn't care, and therefore the government didn't care. It's kinda like breaking into a bank, and then when the police come to arrest you, you just say, \"No.\" And then they stop, confused, and just walk away.\n\nWell, after that, of course, you become a national celebrity. The government still wanted me to stop, of course, but they couldn't really make me without locking me in a room for three weeks and making me cold turkey it out. So, first, they tried laws against growing tobacco. \"Okay,\" I said, \"You win. SIKE!\" And continued to grow more tobacco for myself. Then they tried ad campaigns. This is where it got annoying. I couldn't even go to the grocery store without seeing my face plastered to a wall, smiling back at me with the words \"JUST QUIT GREG SCHMIDT\" in big red letters surrounding the picture of my head. I was known by all, people pointed me out in the street. It was no use going somewhere else, either. One time I drove from my house in Virginia to New York City, and lo and behold, there I was in the middle of Times Square, my smiling meth mouth of a face looking at me among the words \"YOUR FAMILY PROBABLY HATES YOUR FILTHY HABIT.\" They weren't even trying to rhyme anymore. They straight up hated me and wanted me to stop.\n\nSo, when I was 45, 28 years after I had lit up my first cigarette, I decided that there must be something in the Constitution that protects me from this kind of public degradation. Nope. I took it to the Supreme Court and everything, no dice. The only people that liked me were teenagers that thought it was cool to stand up to the government and media sources that made money off of my \"developing story of a life.\" I'm not even kidding. That's what they call my life. The catchphrases aren't much better, if one can even call them catchphrases. Here's a list of my personal favorites:\n\n- SMOKING IS BAD FOR YOU (no shit)\n\n- JUST STOP SMOKING GREG\n\n- WHY DO YOU SMOKE, YOU BIG FUCKING JOKE\n\n- THE POLICE ARE COMING GREG (ahahahhahahhahhahaha)\n\n- (my personal favorite) JESUS CHRIST YOU STUBBORN BITCH\n\nI don't know what to do anymore. My house is the only haven I have, if you consider a building constantly surrounded by paparazzi trying to take a picture of you a haven. I can't order pizza without the people fighting over who gets the chance to deliver the pizza to me. But, I must say, it's fun being known for something. I just wish the advertisements were a little less harsh.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-02-17T10:43:36 | 2017-02-17T09:45:22 | 174 | 80 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It was 2040. The United States, most would agree, was in phenomenal shape. The economy was booming, contrary to what pundits predicted would become of President Karenna Gore's policies. The air and the water was clean. The average American was considerably healthier than just a decade ago. Nobody in the *world* even smoked tobacco anymore... save for me. \n\nYes, I was the only human being left on the planet that smoked those cancer-sticks; and I was world famous for it. I guess that makes me an ass-hole. I thought I had a case for myself though. I mean, consider the- \"Oh, well that's just great.\" \n\nI gazed up at the fresh billboard. It was me, with cigarettes protruding from every orifice of my face. Brutal. It gave me a sick feeling. I wasn't angry, just stressed.\n\n\"I need a smoke.\" \n\nI took out one of my beautiful hand rolled stogies. No store sold the stuff anymore. Society had turned me into a craftsman, a modern cowboy living in the city. And they knew exactly where I lived. The ads followed me around like a shadow; pleas from every health organization from A to Z; personal letters from government officials. It was non-stop. \n\nI took a much warranted drag and let out a cloud of smoke through my mouth and nose, much too conspicuously. \n\n\"Oh my gosh,\" said a woman from across the street, stopping her friend and pointing. \"Look! It's him!\" \n\nI twiddled the stogie in my fingers and glanced casually over at them. I took another drag and headed over to them.\n\n\"Hey! Why don't you stop?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Call it quits. It's not hard.\"\n\n\"Hi ladies. My name's Eliot.\"\n\n\"Yeah. We know who you are.\"\n\nI smiled and began to raise my cigarette.\n\n\"Whoa! Hey!\"\n\n\"Second hand smoke! Second hand smoke!\"\n\nI put my hands up in surrender. \"Relax.\" It was like I'd pulled a gun out. They were backing away. I let the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out as a sign of peace.\n\nOne exhaled in relief as she had been holding her breath. \"I have a kid you know.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nThe other sighed. \"This might not be my place but-\"\n\n\"Probably not.\"\n\n\"-you're the last person in the entire world who smokes. You're life must be... very very hard. Why, why don't you just stop? They have amazing programs-\"\n\n\"Believe me, I'm well aware.\" I pointed at a magazine stand, where a full row of issues sat with my face on them and the headline 'It's easy, Eliot'.\n\nShe looked at the issues. She looked back, struck with a note of sympathy. \"It must be stressful.\"\n\n\"Yeeah. The irony.\"\n\n\"Well, is it worth it?\"\n\n\"It's not just for the smoke itself, crazy as it may sound. It's like a remnant to me. A relic. Something to hold on to.\" They were intent now. I wouldn't admit it, but it was so nice to have this from someone besides my dog. He's a great dog, don't get me wrong, but it was no challenge getting him on my side. \"Clint Eastwood, James Dean- Gandalf- the French! Artists, authors with wooden pipes, and- and politicians chewing on cubans. I know things are better off now but, I miss it. I miss it all.\"\n\nOne of them half smiled. I sure hadn't made anyone smile in a long time. That felt good. She turned to her friend. \"Could *one* really hurt that much?\" She neared me and gestured at the tobacco box in my jacket pocket. She said, smiling fully, \"light me up.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I'm really starting to hate CNN, and not just because of their fake news articles.\n\nAll eyes have been on me for almost a year and a half. I'm the only person that still smokes, and honestly, at this point, I'm just doing it because I feel like pissing off the rest of the world. It's at the point where I have to grow and roll my own cigs. Marlboro sold me their recipe after they went out of business, and I grow my own tobacco, roll my own stuff, etc. The government has tried everything. First, the Prohibition of 2021, which cut smokers down by 97%. Then came the crackdown on dark web sellers, and eventually everyone got caught smoking. They found the names of people that hadn't signed up for drug tests, until the only people left were the ones off the radar. And then, the military swept the streets and found everyone that was left.\n\nIt was May of 2038 when I was announced the last smoker in the United States. But here's the thing: they didn't arrest me. I had gone for multiple tests while smoking, never once did they stop me. Just told me I failed. I think it's because I simply didn't care, and therefore the government didn't care. It's kinda like breaking into a bank, and then when the police come to arrest you, you just say, \"No.\" And then they stop, confused, and just walk away.\n\nWell, after that, of course, you become a national celebrity. The government still wanted me to stop, of course, but they couldn't really make me without locking me in a room for three weeks and making me cold turkey it out. So, first, they tried laws against growing tobacco. \"Okay,\" I said, \"You win. SIKE!\" And continued to grow more tobacco for myself. Then they tried ad campaigns. This is where it got annoying. I couldn't even go to the grocery store without seeing my face plastered to a wall, smiling back at me with the words \"JUST QUIT GREG SCHMIDT\" in big red letters surrounding the picture of my head. I was known by all, people pointed me out in the street. It was no use going somewhere else, either. One time I drove from my house in Virginia to New York City, and lo and behold, there I was in the middle of Times Square, my smiling meth mouth of a face looking at me among the words \"YOUR FAMILY PROBABLY HATES YOUR FILTHY HABIT.\" They weren't even trying to rhyme anymore. They straight up hated me and wanted me to stop.\n\nSo, when I was 45, 28 years after I had lit up my first cigarette, I decided that there must be something in the Constitution that protects me from this kind of public degradation. Nope. I took it to the Supreme Court and everything, no dice. The only people that liked me were teenagers that thought it was cool to stand up to the government and media sources that made money off of my \"developing story of a life.\" I'm not even kidding. That's what they call my life. The catchphrases aren't much better, if one can even call them catchphrases. Here's a list of my personal favorites:\n\n- SMOKING IS BAD FOR YOU (no shit)\n\n- JUST STOP SMOKING GREG\n\n- WHY DO YOU SMOKE, YOU BIG FUCKING JOKE\n\n- THE POLICE ARE COMING GREG (ahahahhahahhahhahaha)\n\n- (my personal favorite) JESUS CHRIST YOU STUBBORN BITCH\n\nI don't know what to do anymore. My house is the only haven I have, if you consider a building constantly surrounded by paparazzi trying to take a picture of you a haven. I can't order pizza without the people fighting over who gets the chance to deliver the pizza to me. But, I must say, it's fun being known for something. I just wish the advertisements were a little less harsh.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-02-17T12:06:05 | 2017-02-17T11:59:25 | 51 | 20 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": " He buried his head in his hands. The condensation from his steamy sobs leaked through his fingers on to the pavement. It took every ounce of strength to pull his head up and confront the billboard, but he did it anyways.\n\nThere she was. His wife, holding his withered body. It didn't seem like it was truly his corpse. The veins were hyper-exposed, the ghastly skeleton reminded him of the blanket scare tactics anti-smoking companies used in the early 21st century. \n\nBut her expression. Her anguish. It was all too real. \n\nHe knew the adds were not real. He knew the recent breakthrough allowing billboards to send targeted adds at each passerby. This was simply a personification of his inner monologue. His desire to quite, not strong enough to keep his marriage. The little white sticks he cherished overcame his ability to remain an active father to his princess. The addiction was more than a release, it was life.\n\nThe billboard flickered and he turned away. He imagined all the potential images it could be. Another fluffy wheat cartoon. The seductive escorts he had been seeing recently. He clenched his knuckles on the railing of the bridge and looked. \n\nThere she was. His little girl. Running and playing with a kite. He was confused as this didn't seem to be an advertisement or sponsorship at all. She seemed to be in a cemetery, but everyone was happy. His eyes focused on a strange cylinder shaped coffin. \n\n\"Here lies Jason Ritz. He sacrificed all he loved to satisfy destructive desires. If only he had quit smoking\". \n\nThe guilt. The burden. The sorrow. \n\nEvery emotion bubbled up to the surface. In that moment Jason knew he could not be the man who died from smoking. He could not be the man who chose to continue his addiction at the cost of his wife and kids. He knew she was gone for a few weeks but when she came back, he just had to be clean to live a long happy life.\n\nHe couldn't face the thought of choosing cigarettes over her. \n\nHe reached in to his back pocket. The warm pack cradling him gently. He removed the packet and placed it on the railing of the bridge. \n\nA small smile crept up on his face. \n\nHe climbed up on the railing. Inhaled a large breath of fresh air. \n\nHe jumped.",
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{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I've outlasted it for years. I've watched campaigns come and go for years never having any effect on my habit, but this was something more. The first anti smoking ad I saw was when I was 10 years old. It showed a middle aged man going through his daily life with a hole in his throat. Plugging it when he took showers, talking like some demented robot, scaring his children. This had absolutely no affect on me. Science would take care of it, I thought. Robot voice could be fun, I hoped. But I will never be given the courtesy of robot voice, for the culture war against smoking has persisted. \n\nA few years after scary throat man, the government deployed a little more extreme measures to curb smoking, they began showing pictures of damaged lungs and arteries on the front of every pack of cigarettes. Every time you went for a smoke, you would be faced with the harsh reality of lung cancer. Again, this had absolutely no affect on me. I could always get a transplant couldn't I? Do lung transplants exist? It doesn't matter, the point is I just want to smoke my Marlboros. \n\n A few years later, the government again ramped up their efforts. This time, they encouraged citizens to heckle anyone they saw smoking. It was incredibly effective, the few people who could make it past robot voice man and pictures of fucked up lungs couldn't continue to smoke when it wasn't even cool. I mean it's one thing to knowingly destroy your body while looking badass, but to do it when people are booing you is just plain stupid. For a few a while it was just me and a group of angsty teenagers who liked the attention, but soon they passed the phase. Now the year is 2040, and I smoke alone. Every time I leave the house for a smoke I'm berated by every living person on Earth. Kids, old people, it doesn't matter. They've researched me, and they know just how to insult me. Every time I buy a pack , the picture that come with is no longer of damaged organs, but personal insults written by the cashier. This morning it said, \"Your father is disappointed in you.\"\n\nBut still I persist, I don't friends, family, personal relationships. Not when I have my Marlboros. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-02-17T14:17:58 | 2017-02-17T11:15:56 | 25 | 13 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Well this is a bit excessive,\" I thought at first, \"even for them.\"\n\nHe was everywhere.\n\nAfter the first week, I named him Xavier. I don't know why, it just seemed to fit. He was a distinguished, handsome, and charming. Exactly the opposite of his target.\n\nIt seemed like an odd use of apparently brand new tech, connecting every visible ad together to let an imaginary character follow me around. It didn't matter what ad. He was always there, getting his two cents in about my habits.\n\nThe latest Audi commercial, showing a young couple driving along the California coast, \"Son,\" he chimed in from the backseat, \"not even this car would get you a woman.\" \n\nHe had a line for everything. Viagra was \"coming sooner than you think\" and I couldn't even watch porn without him commenting that the local girls weren't really locals, and even if they were... well you get the point.\n\nThe friends I still had, while not many, were growing impatient. Their ads didn't star Xavier, and he was sure to remind them that all I had to do was give it up and he'd go away for good.\n\nFor whatever kind of software program he was, I thought, he was surprisingly inquisitive. \"How'd you know it was coming?\" Xavier asked, referring to the mandated shutdown of all tobacco production. \n\nTruth is, I listened to a lunatic online on a hunch and used my life savings to purchase enough smokes to last the foreseeable future. But I wasn't about to start explaining myself to an ad.\n\nI never responded. And never planned to.\n\n\"Alright, I give up,\" I paused for a second and turned to see Xavier pressed up close to the inside of my TV screen, while an ad for Puppy Chow played behind him. He looked far less confident than normal. \"I'm begging you to stop smoking. It's the only way they'll let me go.\"\n\nIt took me a second to process exactly what he said.\n\n\"Wait, what?\"\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The year is 2040, and you are the last smoker alive. The \"Quit Smoking\" ads get personal.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I walked down the overgrown, muddy street in my village. It was quiet, as it always had been. The quietness is the thing that was typical of this village, it had always been this quiet. I walked into the house where I was born, or at least: the place where I remembered I first was.\n\nI don't remember much of my childhood, the only thing is that I was always alone, completely alone. Luckily, in this house there were some books I could read. Books that taught me reading, books that taught me the world. Those books also taught me that I should have some parents, because people come out of a female, who has had sexual intercourse with a man. I don't know where they are, I've never seen them. The only thing I remember was that I have always had a cigarette in my mouth. \n\nI walked into the kitchen. There wasn't food there, but there were plants all over the place. Nature has not only taken this kitchen back, but this whole village. Some plants gave food, there were some berry bushes in the corner. I ate some of them.\n\nOn the kitchen table sat something that has fascinated and scared me my whole life. Two objects of which I didn't know what it was or what it could've been. It seemed like some sort of skeletons, the type of animal I was, homo sapiens. Before them, on the table laid a closed package of cigarettes: the skeletons probably had never smoked them, not even one. I took the package, set one sigaret afire and put it in my mouth. I wouldn't know how to live a life in which I couldn't smoke. \n\nI walked out of the house, further down the road. I came at a junction, where a giant board was standing. On it was a picture of an old man with an angry face. I had never seen that man. I never saw men anymore, nor women. Next to the men stood the words. The words that I first taught myself: \"Quit smoking!\". In protest, I took a pull of my cigarette. \n\nEdit: sigaret to cigarette",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-03-21T03:20:56 | 2017-03-21T00:59:36 | 121 | 31 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Area 51 has four level emergencies for a breakout. Level 3: Armed forces intervention. 2: Public statement. United Nations joint resistance. 1: Worldwide evacuation effort. Use of nuclear weapons permitted. And 0: Call the number on the sticky note (and pray to God his demands aren't too high).",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The screams weren't the worst part. No, the worst part was the shortness of them; the silence outside was almost complete, there was no hope, only a sticky note attached to the fridge in the break room, with the words \"in case of emergency, call this number \" and a normal looking phone number with an odd country code. \n\nAirman Johnson was out of options and had left hysteria behind a while back; now she was just cold and detached. Might as well give it a stab; all her superiors were dead, and she'd always wondered whether the note was just a joke.\n\nHer cell rang 3 times before being answered by a British-sounding man. \"Who are you and how did you get this number?\"\n\n\"Airman Johnson, US Airforce, it was on a sticky note on the break room fridge. Please help, they've killed everyone, I'm the only one left.\"\n\n\"Okay, slow down, who's killed everyone, where are you?\"\n\n\"I don't know, they broke containment, they're some kind of bumpy trash cans, I'm new here. I'm in-\" The airman was interrupted by the man on the line.\n\n\" Bumpy trash cans? Are you sure? How can the US airforce be so consistently *stupid*? Hang on, I'll be right there.\"\n\nA loud, throbbing sound echoes through the office for a few seconds, drowning out the latest batch of screams, barely 100 meters away. A head pops around the corner and asks, in the same British accent, \"Did someone call for a doctor?\"\n\n---\n\nEDIT: some slight wording and corrected the rank",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Area 51 has four level emergencies for a breakout. Level 3: Armed forces intervention. 2: Public statement. United Nations joint resistance. 1: Worldwide evacuation effort. Use of nuclear weapons permitted. And 0: Call the number on the sticky note (and pray to God his demands aren't too high).",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Private!\"\n\n\"Yessir! I am ready to call the number!\"\n\nArea 51 started disintegrating around them, as the monster from below started tearing apart space itself in an effort to escape the prison, the corridors of the underground complex appearing to bend as time itself tore apart.\n\n\"This is only like a level 3 right now, stop pretending you're important. Get back to monitoring Adriana and Eric, see if their arms come back from the alternate dimension.\"\n\nThe private glumly returned back to watching the two through the glass, as their arms showed no signs of returning from the portal that the two foolishly touched. \n\n\"God, I wish this was a more interesting assignment.\"\n\nAbove him, a portal opened and a man in white robes walked through, nearly catching his massive wings on the edges of the portal. \"Hey, Morgan, been too long since I saw you!\"\n\n\"Hey Gabe, how's life been treating you? We've currently got an inter-dimensional monster down below, nothing major going down right now.\"\n\n\"Oh, you found Abigail then! Yeah she can be a hungry giant monster that wants to destroy humanity, can't she! The big G says that you should feed her an apple boiled in the blood of a sacrificed lamb, that should calm her right down for the next six millennia or so.\"\n\n\"Ok, I'll go tell the Major no-\"\n\n\"You know that the big G demands a price for this, right?\"\n\n\"But I literally didn't ask for his help at all!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but the writing prompt kinda forces your hand, no? He wants a cold one, apparently. Chop chop!\"\n\nMorgan sprinted down into the lower-levels, armed with the knowledge to defeat the monster, and the location of the beer fridge.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-05-31T12:27:03 | 2017-05-31T11:57:24 | 39 | 18 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humanity receives a message, originating from the Moon. It reads \"Why did you surrender to us? We were never at war with you?\" and attached to it is a picture of the US flag, by now bleached white by the Sun.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "My grandfather always told us the stories. He would always tell us that in his younger days, he saw the voyagers visit our world. We were always taught to keep out of the light. The light was too dangerous for our kind. Our world is split into two. One side is always exposed to the great star, the other is hidden in safety. \n\n\"Do not venture into the light.” My grandfather always repeated. None of us dared to disobey his warning.\n\nIt wasn’t long before my grandfather was about to pass into the abyss. Before he went into the stars, he told me that these voyagers claimed the light side of our world. Our kind has never dared venture there. These voyagers were too advanced. They would kill every last one of us. The voyagers struck a banner of their symbol into the rocks revealed by our great star. My grandfather believes they came from the moon. The moon that sometimes makes our whole world safe in darkness. Our moon was beautiful. It was blue with a hint of green. \n\nToday that same moon had rocks floating around it. Lights would come and go from the moon. I knew in my heart those voyagers from my grandfather’s past would return some day. I wanted to see their banner. I knew not to go into the light so I waited. It wasn’t long when a shadow was casted upon our entire world. I slowly crept towards the spot that everyone talked about. I snuck to the forbidden side of our world. The side of the conquering banner.\n\nWhen I arrived. The banner had no color. It was white. The banner full of colors was not true. The stories must have been wrong. I returned to my village to warn every one of the pale flag. In our history, such a flag was used to surrender. \n\n*Why would the voyagers surrender?* I thought. *Did they give up the light?*\n\n\"Their white flag of surrender means that they are weak.” Our lord said. No one questioned him. He was the leader of our race.\n\nWe waited for a while until we saw another falling rock come into our world. We stalked the voyagers closely. Then, we attacked the voyagers. I saw the fear in their faces when they cringed through a glass mask. We detached them from the ground and sent them into the stars. Inside of their rock we heard voices. Lights blinked off and on. Our Lord took their pale banner. He somehow knew what he was doing with the lights inside of their rock. He must have sent a message to the voyager’s home world. We looked towards the moon. Lights filled their sky inbound to our world.\n\n*This was it.* I knew that things would never be the same now. Their banner of weakness made us take back our other home – our light. We never meant for war. However, with our lord, everything today became different. Today, war was our only option.",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Humanity receives a message, originating from the Moon. It reads \"Why did you surrender to us? We were never at war with you?\" and attached to it is a picture of the US flag, by now bleached white by the Sun.",
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},
{
"content": "It was a large round room lit white with a blue hue by many lights at the ceiling. round desks that held the workings of the greatest minds were pointed at one huge screen that read the message \"why did you surrender to us? we were never at war with you\". right after the message appeared general Fermione bounced up from his chair and started screaming about the importance of a serlous workplace. The combination of scientists and military gluttons approved with mumbles and nods.\n\nbefore Fermione finished his word a group computer scientists bursted into the room with such haste that the one at the front almost dropped his tablet.\n\n- gentleman we are under a cyber attack. this is no hoax, this message was sent by someone whose comprehension of technology is beyond us. our protection was bypassed in an instant.\n\neveryone at the room slowly elevated from their seats and after a moment of silence a storm of footsteps consumed the air. Fermione wasn't sure about what to do, so he did what he always did and took control.\n\n- I want everyone of our nuclear warheads dismantled by hand immediately. broadcast a nation wide alert, from now on I declare curfew!\n\nonly a few noticed that the message on the screen changed because of the mass amount of stress caused by knowlng the world could have end in matter of hours. general was the first to catch the change, he was baffled by what he saw. a mishapen woman with no hair and almost non existing bone structure showed up at the screen and started to talk .\n\n- my name is Schlemm, I'm the ruler of the Xayla. you can answer by this channel. what's with the surrender? we were never at war last time I checked.\n\n- what channel is she talking about, is she extra terrestial, what is Xayla, I want answers damn it!\n\n- sir! it appears that we recieved a set of codes which allow us to connect with this... thing.\n\n- then hurry and get me on the line.\n\nFermione checked the video calls background. the thing that had the looks of a woman was floating inside some fluid behind a long table. there were no windows or chairs. the walls were metalic red.\n\n- sir we established connection. I advise we hold her off so we can analyze what's going on.\n\n- what's there to analyze? they could end us with a push of a button. go ahead and get me, on, the, line!\n\na team of camera men came and made some adjustments. after a minute or two they gave the signal to let the general know that Schlemm was able to see him now.\n\n- my name is Fermione Silva, I am the highest ranking military officer in the UPAC. Geetings.\n\n- hello general. so what is the meaning of the white flag you left at our door?\n\n- what white flag are you talking about madame?\n\nan image of a white flag on the surface of the moon appeared on the screen. the shot was taken from a decent height Fermione noted.\n\n- are you telling me you didn't leave this here as a sign of surrender?",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-06-09T09:32:17 | 2017-06-09T08:45:57 | 1,038 | 108 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a citizen of Ancient Rome. One day, you notice that one of the Emperor's advisors has a 21st Century handgun stowed in his toga. You also realize you know what a handgun is.",
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},
{
"content": "PART I - [PART II](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6g8ett/wp_you_are_a_citizen_of_ancient_rome_one_day_you/dipk3va) - [PART III](https://www.reddit.com/r/rarelyfunny/comments/6gkiyh/part_iii_pi_you_are_a_citizen_of_ancient_rome_one)\n\n---\n\nAelius was a careful man. In the weeks I surveilled him, he was almost never without his bodyguards, taking them with him even to the baths. That wasn't surprising in and of itself, for the Emperor's advisors were assigned official protection, but none took their privacy, their safety as seriously as Aelius.\n\nSo why then did he slip on a cloak every 8th evening, elude his men with cunning of tongue and quickness of feet, just to visit the modest temple on the outskirts? Why did his steed seem to labour under greater burden on the return trips?\n\nThis evening, I waited for him patiently, peering out from my hiding spot behind a false doorway. There were three routes back to his residence, but an exchange of coins had ensured congestion and disturbance along two of the more public routes - Aelius would be compelled to take the slightly longer, slightly more obscure backlane instead.\n\nHe passed by soon enough, urging his horse along at a steady trot. I held my breath, flung my net at him, and wrenched him to the ground. His horse whinnied, loudly. I leapt over him, pressing my knees to his chest.\n\n\"Stay your hand,\" I said, \"I mean you no harm.\"\n\n\"No harm?\" he sneered, \"yet here you are with a knife to my neck?\"\n\n\"I asked for an audience, and you refused. You left me with no choice.\"\n\nI could see the wheels spinning in his head - Aelius had a reputation for being one of the sharpest amongst the Emperor's advisors, and it did not take him long to connect the dots. \"You are the one who has been sending me private letters, seeking to discuss delirious matters. Of course I have rebuffed you, Domitius.\"\n\nI shook my head, angrily. \"I am free of delirium, Aelius. I know what I saw. You were carrying a Maxim 4, that day we crossed paths at the coronation. I wasn't sure at first, but the name came to me, eventually.\"\n\nAelius narrowed his eyes, and I could feel him tense beneath me. \"What century are you from, you snake?\"\n\nIt was my turn to be surprised. \"The 21st century, same as you. Have you forgotten the rules? We can't influence history at all, and that means no smuggled knowledge, no borrowed weapons! We are here to observe, that is all! Anything else and we risk being put down, forcefully!\"\n\nA high-pitched whine rang through the air, and I saw a focused beam of light pass through my shoulder, splashing on the far wall vibrantly. The smell hit me then, charred flesh. My hand went limp, and the dagger fell noisily to the ground.\n\nAelius was up in a flash, and I felt him pass an arm around me, lifting me onto his horse. In my shock, I could only comply.\n\n\"Listen, I remember the rules. But things have changed. The observation period has come and gone for years now, and I'm not sure if you have been keeping track, but we're not being recalled anymore.\"\n\n\"Not being... recalled?\"\n\nAngry shouts filled the air, as men spilled out onto the pathway, running towards us. I recognised some of them, but the artifacts they bore, they were alien to me.\n\n\"Something went wrong in our time, Domitius. I only know that we from the 21st century are not the only travellers here. You ever seen a laser rifle before? No? Well that's because they come from the 24th century, and if we don't get a move on, we will die here.\"\n\n\"24th... century?\"\n\n\"There's a civil war going on under your very eyes, and I can explain more to you when we're safe.\"\n\nAelius spurred his horse on, and the darkness consumed me.\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny \n ",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a citizen of Ancient Rome. One day, you notice that one of the Emperor's advisors has a 21st Century handgun stowed in his toga. You also realize you know what a handgun is.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The Theatre of Pompey was a breathtaking building. Older men of stature walked through the white pillars that reached to the skies, loudly discussing matters of political nature.\n\nA man in a white toga stood at the edge of the building, and gazed into the crowd. He had a large red scar on his upper cheek, contrasting the purity of his robes. Outside the building stood thousands of people, selling and buying goods on the market, their voices reaching far and wide. Carts filled with fruits and vegetables had just arrived in front of him. Next to the cart two merchants stood, who were loudly arguing over the contents of their delivery. Tiny groups of soldiers marched between the women haggling prices for food and fabrics, as the children played in the cool Spring weather.\n\nBut his focus was on something else. His hawklike eyes scanned for the men that arrived at the theatre. In an instant he stood up right from the pillar he had been leaning on as a well-ornamented carriage had arrived. The disappointment on his face was barely concealed as a woman left the ride, rather than who he had been waiting for.\n\nIt was almost time. The meeting with the rest of the Senators was about to start.\n\nAnd exactly at that moment he noticed a group of men, dressed similarly to himself, walk towards the white steps of the building. The atmosphere in the group was tense, quiet, and only a few nods were exchanged as he joined the group. He walked next to a colleague of his as they entered the building. \"So today is the day?\" he whispered, and his colleague quickly nodded, with frowned eyebrows. The anticipation built as the group marched onwards, past soldiers in shiny armor, clerks with stacks of documents, and other senators who all either nodded at the group, or quickly walked by.\n\nThey arrived in a large hall, with giant doors at the end. The wood must have been lacquered tens of times, as it reflected the sunlight falling through the windows brightly. A few men in front of him reached in their toga, as if they were checking something. His colleague next to him did the same, and as he lifted the white fabric a black object appeared.\n\n*What is that?*, he wondered, as he stared at him. His colleague noticed and quickly covered it with his toga. \"Today *is* the day\", his colleague mumbled back, and stared ahead at the wooden doors. A nod was exchanged and a rush of anticipation surged through the group as they marched towards the doors.\n\nThe doors swung open smoothly, the lack of sound disturbing, considering their size and weight. The men walked inside the large, round room, and came to a halt. In the middle the room stood a broad-shouldered man, wearing a laurel wreath on his head. Dark eyebrows above dark eyes stared at the group. The last two of their group shut the doors behind them quickly, a loud bang resounding through the room as they fell shut.\n\nAnd as the bang resonated through his ears, he knew what the item was. It was a gun! The sound of the doors had echoed the sound he had heard before in his life, an eardeafening sound that disappeared as quick as the life of the victim. And, he realized, it was a weapon that should not have been here. Not in this time.\n\nThe group of men surrounded the man in the center, their numbers starkly constrasting him in his solitude. He rose his hands as if to try and stop them. Quick gazes were exchanged between the men.\n\nThe man with the scar knew what would happen. Not Senate reform. Not democracy. Today was murder.\n\nAnd instinctively he reached under his toga as the other men reached, and he could feel his hand grasp around the grip of a gun. He pulled it quickly, and aimed it at the men with knives in their hands, closing in on the helpless man in the center. And as he readied himself to shoot the first bullet, an avalanche crashed on his chest. He sank to the floor and noticed a red stain expanding on his toga as the pain exploded. His colleague stood next to him, gun pulled, and the other men stared at him, their knives turning in their hands, as if they waited for a command. \"Et tu, Brute?\" the man in the middle whispered. Brutus put his gun back in his robes and nodded, averting his gaze as the sickening sound of metal in flesh was drowned out by the last screams of the dictator.\n\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-09-11T13:00:54 | 2017-09-11T11:16:50 | 29 | 12 | [
{
"content": "[WP] For centuries your family has passed down an old leather bag that provides the holder with an object that would be helpful in the particular situation the holder is in. You are getting on a bus and instead of giving you a bus ticket or money, it gives you a handgun.",
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},
{
"content": "\"Well I don't know why it gave me the gun either Dad it just did!\"\n\nYou'd think he'd understand, the bag used to be his after all, but for some reason he almost sounded angry I had somehow found myself with the handgun he kept locked in his bedroom safe. I didn't know I had it myself till he called, I was just about to reach for my bus pass when my phone rang. \n\n\"Why is your bus pass where my gun should be?\"\n\n\"What? It's not it's right....oh....oh shit I do have it. What the hell? Dad I know you always say trust the bag but I think it's broken.\"\n\n\"YOUNG LADY WHY WOULD IT GIVE YOU A GUN? MY GUN?\"\n\n...and here we are. My dad, 300 miles away, was mad at me for *his* damn bag giving me his gun. I was more upset it took my bus pass. You know how much a universal pass costs? Saved up for months for the damn thing just so I knew I could move for work at a moment's notice and always have transportation. \n\nI swear after Mom left he's gotten grumpier and grumpier. I keep trying to get him to move out here but he's old and stubborn. I thought after all we'd been through he would trust me. Confusion makes sense but why anger? He never even used the damn thing I'm surprised he even knew it was gone. \n\nWait...\n\n\"Dad...why were you getting your gun out?\"\n\nSilence. A hiccup, then paper being crumpled up, then a sigh. \n\n\"I...I don't know hunny. I'm sorry I got so angry I'm in a weird spot. Hey why don't I use your pass to get up there and we can hang out a bit? If your so set on me moving closer to you I should at least know the area a little.\"\n\nThere's no way he'd ever....no he's totally against that....he wouldn't end his own life...would he?\n\n\"Yeah dad I'd love that, I can even take a few days off work and we can go apartment hunting. Or you're always welcome to stay with me.\"\n\n\"Sounds good hun, I'll leave in the morning and keep you updated on where I am. I love you.\"\n\n\"Love you too dad, see you soon.\"\n\n\"Hey one more thing hun... always trust the bag.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] For centuries your family has passed down an old leather bag that provides the holder with an object that would be helpful in the particular situation the holder is in. You are getting on a bus and instead of giving you a bus ticket or money, it gives you a handgun.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Sitting here in the dark, reflecting on what happened, I wonder how long it will be until I am free again. Here in this cold lockup, counting the days, I still know what I did was right, because that’s what I do, always the right thing. I’m very good at doing what is right. But always having the right thing at your fingertips isn’t the same as knowing the future. I couldn’t know how it would go down? I mean, seriously. But still it all worked out, I saved a man’s life, idiot or not. Actually I’m thinking I might have saved *many many lives*. My conscience is clean.\n\nSo this fool decided to stick up a bus driver of all things, “Give me everything you’ve got!” he shouted. It wasn’t a very original approach, and unlikely to be very profitable, but to be fair he was clearly improvising. The driver slammed the door shut and hit the gas, dragging this dummy along by the arm. Outside the bus, I was knocked aside. I fell to the sidewalk, frozen, useless, seeing it all go down but unable to move. After this moron dropped the gun inside the bus, out of reach, the driver stopped the bus and restrained the trapped arm to prevent escape, while passengers called the police.\n\nEventually the police arrived and did their thing. And now here I am, in an evidence locker, wondering when I’ll see daylight again. But like I said before, I know I made the right call. I saw that guy a few spots behind us in line – the one with the ball cap and sunglasses who, in the commotion, returned something from his hand to the pocket of his overly bulky jacket before hurrying away and disappearing into the corner store. That something he stuffed in his pocket had a thin wire running from it, going under the elastic waste of that *very overly bulky* jacket. Who can say for sure, but I’m guessing his intentions were to blow us all to shit. Why the hell else would the right thing for me to do be to hand my idiot a handgun when he’s dumb enough to take that as a sign that he should try to rob whatever was in front of his face? I wonder if jacket-guy will rethink his life, or if this was only a temporary solution to an immediate problem, but one thing I don’t doubt: I did the best I could with the stupid human I have at my disposal. I may just be a bag, but I’m *never* wrong.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2017-10-18T18:23:28 | 2017-09-17T05:11:57 | 5,127 | 32 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You're a villain that fell in love with a hero. Though the strongest villain on the planet, you constantly lose to your hero, since you just love the rivalry and don't want it to end. As you are being arrested one day, your hero is attacked by another villain, one too strong for them to beat.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "\"Too bad, Confoundus, looks like my will was again too strong for your feeble powers\" said Artillerella with satisfaction, before making a gun gesture with her index finger and thumb and pretending to blow smoke off it. \n\nIt was her signature move, and Confoundus would happily let himself take a thousand of her easily avoidable inferno bombs to the face just to see it one more time. \n\nAs he was led away in handcuffs, Confoundus tried to appear defeated and angry, Artillerella loved a bit of anger. He couldn't let her see how happy he really was, it'd break her heart. \n\nArtillerella had come around around at a hard time in Confoudus' life, a time when he found himself struggling for purpose, being a terrifying being that the entire world feared had really grown rather boring. He found himself watching \"*A Hero Emerges, the Hero Academy Inside Story*\" on TV more and more over the years, looking at the new blood, hoping against hope that finally there'd be someone to challenge him. But every time someone looked promising: Cyclonia, Septeroid, even that overhyped windbag Heatwave, they always ended up the same: cocky, drug-addled layabouts who just went for the easy, weak villains, posed for some newspaper photos and backed down the second any villain worth their salt made a challenge.\n\nThen came Artillerella. She wasn't particularly strong, her only power other than the standard flight, enhanced reflexes etc. was her ability to create meteor-like orbs between her hands and hurl them at her opponents. They exploded with an impressive flash, and looked dazzling to watch, but unfortunately they took a long time to charge, were easy to dodge and really weren't all that useful in actual combat.\n\nNevertheless she'd captivated Confoundus, she was brave. While Heatwave and his gang of celebrity hangers on partied in a nightclub, she challenged Arachniarch, a villain at least five times her strength, as he threatened to unleash his horde of spiders on an orphanage. \n\nOf course she lost the fight, but she'd fought valiantly, and Confoundus was disheartened to see Heatwave wipe the cocaine off his nose and fly in at the last moment to nab the glory, barely managing to defeat the significantly weakened Arachniarch. Artillerella wasn't even mentioned in the news article the next day.\n\nHe fell in love with her. Her coy smile, her little blowing-smoke-off-the-gun victory move, the way she fought with such passion in battle. She was everything he'd ever dreamed of. And so one day, the long-feared return of Confoundus came, it had been oh-so-satisfying to smack down the pompous upstarts that had risen to international fame as the so-called strongest heroes. He beat the best, then the second best, and before long all the remaining heroes cowered in fear. \n\nAll but one, Artillerella. \n\nOf course Confoundus could have snapped her mind in two in an instant with his psychic powers, but when he looked at that determined grimace framed by that wavy red hair, he just... couldn't bring himself to do it. \n\n\"NO, how can this BE?\" he'd said, theatrically.\n\n\"My powers\" Confoundus had continued, waving his arms like a madman\n\n\"Your will, it's too strong, my powers can't touch you...\" \n\nAnd that was when the inferno bomb hit him. Such sweet pain, the burning fury of such a sweet honest soul coalesced into a scorching, searing agony that only he could love. He wanted it again and again. \n\nAnd so he escaped from prison, and so she, again, \"defeated\" him. And again. And again and again and again.\n\nThis was capture number... nine? Confoundus was pretty sure. \n\n\"Best one yet\" he thought to himself \"she's honest to goodness putting up a fight now, might be one day I don't have to fake it anymore.\n\nHis daydream was shattered.\n\n\"Confoundus, you pathetic old shite\" a self-superior sounding British voice yelled from above him.\n\n\"I've never liked you if I'm honest, but lucky for you we're on the same team, so I'll help you out of this one.\"\n\nShimmer. A pompous villain who carried two daggers and had the ability to move with astounding speed, even for someone with powers.\n\n\"Shimmer!\" Artillerella's melodic yet firm voice called, as she flew over to protect the police officers escorting Confoundus away.\n\n\"Get out of here, or do you want a visit to the burn ward, too?\"\n\nShimmer laughed.\n\n\"The burn ward? Oh come on. Maybe I'd have let it slide if I hadn't just heard that *exact* line from Pyrogladiator yesterday. Every fire hero's been using that one, for decades. Seriously, you're a rookie, let Confoundus go and maybe I won't slash you up too badly.\" Shimmer said threateningly, holding one of his daggers up to the light.\n\n\"Don't know if you've noticed\" Artillerella said with a smile \n\n\"But my arrest profile doesn't exactly seem too 'rookie' to me. A few years ago even you would be running away from Confoundus, and now I've got him wrapped around my little finger.\" there was that coy smile Confoundus loved so much.\n\n\"Now do what you do best, Shimmer\" Artillerella said confidently \n\n\"And run on home\"\n\n\"OK that's it\" Shimmer said, turning to Confoundus.\n\n\"Seriously? You let *her* take you down? Have you heard these lines? Is it possible to kill yourself with psychic powers? Because if I were you I would have tried by now.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" Artillerella yelled, as a glowing sphere lit up between her hands. \n\nNobody even saw the next move, Shimmer flashed through the air around the orb and slashed at Artillerella with his dagger. \n\nArtillerella was by no means a weak hero, but Shimmer was probably the third or fourth most powerful villain in the world, even Confoundus himself wouldn't have found him to be an easy win.\n\nBlood spattered across the pavement and Artillerella fell from the sky. Confoundus felt tears form in his eyes as he heard her body thump against the ground, and half-heard some witty retort from Shimmer before he sped away. \n\n\"My love\" Confoundus said, his voice cracking.\n\n\"My love why did he do this... why?\"\n\nThe police had long since fled when Shimmer showed up, and so no-one was there to watch Confoundus weep as Artillerella's blood seeped out onto the pavement. \n\nEDIT: I'm very glad people liked this so much, I'll begin writing the continuation immediately after I finish this edit. I'm so happy to have a post of mine get this much attention on this sub, I don't have a subreddit or anything but my comment history is a few more of my writing prompts (I made this account to post on this sub) if anyone feels like reading them. \n\nEDIT 2: Part 2 is up, I replied to the original story with my continuation. Hope it lives up to expectations, I wrote as fast as I could while still trying to maintain quality.",
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{
"content": "[WP] You're a villain that fell in love with a hero. Though the strongest villain on the planet, you constantly lose to your hero, since you just love the rivalry and don't want it to end. As you are being arrested one day, your hero is attacked by another villain, one too strong for them to beat.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Kenn wasn't adverse to killing people. That came with the job. Sometimes, you just had to do what was necessary to survive. That's what human nature was right? People have been killing each other for centuries. Who can honestly say they're surprised when the first thing superhumans do is start killing each other? That's what they were made to do. Heroes must kill villains, villains must kill heroes. Sure; every now and then a hero leaves a villain alive. Sure; they might even swear off killing altogether. When you get to the bottom of the morally murky swamp however you realize that one way or another either the villain or the hero has to die. That's how wars are fought and this is nothing if not a war.\n\nKenn sat there looking at her, holding the bag of cash from the bank he had very illicitly withdrawn from the people's savings account. She was brave for her skill. All heroes kind of were. Villains took money and power, heroes took morale superiority and the greater good of society. Heroes went home to an applause every day so it's only natural eventually they got a little too brave for their britches. Kenn didn't mind though. He could tolerate a little bravery here and there. He could tolerate anything from her at this point.\n\nHe'd be lying to himself if he said he wanted the money for money's sake. No, he wanted to see her again. He'd be mocked if any of the villains were to know that. Villains weren't allowed to have sweet-hearts. Especially rather heroic ones. This was a war and they were the enemy. This was the closest thing to a date Kenn was every going to get. \"Drop the dough\" she demanded and Kenn was all to eager to follow. Millions of dollars in bills were heavier than you'd expect. Especially when they come with the heavy knowledge that it was the only way to see her again.\n\nKenn cracked his knuckles gearing up for a fight he'd know he would lose. He told himself every day that maybe he'd win this time, that maybe this time he'd summon up enough emotional courage to go with his physical abilities but he never could. She sucked it out of him like a second power even she didn't know she had. \"Come and get me, Electora\" He said tauntingly, using her superhero name. He didn't know her real name.\n\nShe didn't smile this time though. She did usually, on any other day. Why wasn't she smiling?\n\nBefore Kenn could ask where her grin of bravery had hidden off to, there was the boom of thunder followed by the crack of lightning. Kenn flew back several dozen feet down the street. That was her power, bolts of electric shock. Of course Kenn was a copy-cat villain. He could just shoot one right back, but he wasn't going to. He wasn't going to match fire with fire this time around.\n\nSomething was wrong, she didn't seem very... Happy about this. That didn't make any sense. Here he was, spitting out chunks of asphalt as she approached, just as she would have it. How could she be so glum like him? Where was that smiling row of teeth Kenn had gone so far to witness? He stood up just to catch her throw a punch. He made like he was going to block it. He didn't of course. The fist blasted into his cheek; the closest thing Kenn would ever get to a kiss, and he relished it for the few seconds he could as he stumbled back again.\n\nShe threw another punch, but something peculiar happened. Kenn saw it come in and once again made the purposefully half-assed attempt to catch it. Kenn flinched just as the fist was about to connect with his upper eye and then... Nothing. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the block of her fist stop just short. It was only a moment, only a few microseconds before Kenn launched himself back again as if he was hit.\n\nKenn was starting to understand now as he stood there, looking at her. She gritted her teeth and Kenn could feel his heart sink: She knew now, she was starting to understand. Maybe she didn't understand why but she was smart enough to know what was happening. \"I knew it\" She breathed, sending a kick his way only to stop just short of his windpipe. Kenn pretended to gag, falling on his ass.\n\n\"Stop it!\" She shouted, standing over him. Kenn had never seen her this angry before. He sat there looking at her as she made to stomp directly onto his face but, once again, didn't. This time Kenn didn't do anything. He just sat there, blinking as he looked at the underside of her boot. Her eyes were watering now as she stepped back, putting her arms down. \"For the love of god...\" She began, raising her hands again now not in fists but in open curled hands as if she was trying to summon something out of Kenn. \"Fight back!\"\n\nKen got up, rubbing the spot on his cheek were a bruise was forming. \"I-... Can't.\" He said, trying to follow that up with some viable excuse. Grasping and reaching out for something he could say that would keep her in the dark, in that comfortable lie he had managed to keep her in for so long. There wasn't anything Kenn could do now. All he could do was pretend.\n\nHe imagined this was quite a scene to the police and reporters nearby, who watched with anticipation at what was happening. Kenn snarled at them, hating their every being for this. For making what was supposed to be a private moment public. She stood there a moment waiting for Kenn to say something else. When he didn't she sighed, her anger giving way to a sadness Kenn couldn't quantify. Her blue eyes just scorched into Kenn. Hurting him more than any punch could. \"I can't do this anymore.\" She croaked, her voice breaking.\n\n\"Do you think this is so easy for me?\" She said, turning away and wiping her face with her hands. \"Every time I throw a punch, every time I hurt you I just get this terrible feeling that I'm feeding something I don't want to. I feel sick every time I break your bone or shock you.\"\n\nShe shook her head: \"And every time you come around, they send me... They always send me because they know I'm the only one that can beat you. So every time I have to force myself here, to force myself to throw punches and hurt you in ways I didn't want to. I can't, I just can't do this anymore.\"\n\nShe turned back to him, clasping her hands together with tears streaming down her cheeks: \"Please... Just this once, don't make me hurt you again. It's killing me. For just once can you please win?\"\n\nKenn didn't know what to say. This whole time Kenn thought he was helping her when all he was doing was hurting her. This was what it meant to be an arch nemesis. To try and help someone only to realize you're the one hurting them the most. He didn't know what to do. They were stuck now, neither having the selfishness to hurt each other, neither having the selflessness to fake it. This was a war in which there was no victor. It was a war where people just got hurt and no one was the hero and no one was the villain. Both of them had at this point long forgotten the bag of money now laying in the street, dollar bills rolling through the wind.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-02-10T17:43:28 | 2018-02-10T14:54:57 | 20 | 14 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Start and finish your story with the exact same line but, by the time you reach the end of the story, the line has a drastically different tone.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "She was 5 years old. \n\nYour lovely daughter, with golden curls brushing her shoulders. You could see her now, giggling at you with a broad smile on her face. She would present you with a picture she had etched out in crayon, a portrait of the three of you standing in front of the house. You, your wife, and her. \n\n\"Look, it's me and mommy and daddy!\" She would declare proudly. \"Oh no! You're getting it all wet! Daddy? What's wrong?\" She would ask with concern. \n\nHer mother had gotten the disease not too long ago, leaving you behind to care for her. You were rather hapless, not knowing what to do with a young girl. But you did your best. \n\nHowever, before long, she was diagnosed with the disease too. A genetic health issue, they said. \n\n\"Daddy,\" she muttered, laying on the hospital bed, face clenched in pain, with her golden curls splayed out across her pillows. \"it hurts.\" Tears streamed down her face as you took her hand in yours and tried to whisper out reassurances. You were helpless, and all you could do was hold on as she let go. \n\nShe was 5 years old.",
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{
"content": "[WP] Start and finish your story with the exact same line but, by the time you reach the end of the story, the line has a drastically different tone.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"These woods are lovely\"\n\nSarah thought to herself as she took her morning run. This was a new part of her morning routine. Eat breakfast, drop the kids off at school, and take a run. She has been running down her suburban streets and on the track near the kids school, but recently she discovered these lovely woods about two miles out of town. Some areas were bright and sunny but in other places the canopy of trees all but blocked the sunlight, making the morning seem much more like evening. \n\nToday Sara was more excited about her run than she usually was. Last night she had an argument with her husband and screaming was involved. She needed the breath of fresh air that these woods brought to her. As she sprinted through the woods she could swear that every so often she heard an echo of footsteps following her. But each time she stopped and looked around, the sound of footsteps vanished. \"You're freaking yourself out\" she told herself. \"Get a grip, this is a safe town,\" she stated out loud. \n\nYet nearby he waited. Running in beat with the woman ahead of him. He enjoyed this area of the town. The dark canopy of trees seemed to dampen all sound, particularly screams. As he grew closer and closer to his victim, the thought to himself; \n\n\"These woods are lovely\"",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2018-05-19T04:39:08 | 2018-05-19T03:44:12 | 690 | 42 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are an ancient and incredibly powerful god, and you’re furious that your enemies keep sending teenage “chosen ones” to fight you.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "I feel sorry for the parents, really.\n\nHere they are, they've raised a lovely son or daughter (OK, probably son), they're looking forward to having them take over the family business, or the farm, or get married to that eligible young bachelor down the road.\n\nAnd then some wizened old hermit with more beard than sense shows up and tell them that they're the 'Chosen One', and that they and they alone can defeat 'The Terrible One', just because of some birthmark, or the fact they have red hair and their parents don't, or, I don't know, they were born on February 29th on a full moon (honestly I can't keep up these days).\n\nBirthmarks, really? Do you know how many people out there have birthmarks? \"It's meant to be 'Chosen One', not 'Chosen One in Ten'. And red hair? Never heard of genetics, morons? (actually they haven't, don't worry, you'll all find out in a thousand years).\n\nSo here he is, barely capable of reproducing, being handed a sword almost the size of him, and told to go into the wilderness to find yours truly. Just as an aside, half the time the sword is a cheap knockoff, the other half, it is an actual valuable heirloom, which doesn't mean anything because just because something is old, doesn't mean it's any better at GOD KILLING than an AK-47 (again, you'll find out).\n\nAnd over what? Ancient history, I tell you. Yes, I will admit that I have decimated a couple of civilizations in my time (which at the time wasn't considered that big a deal, losing 10% of your people back then was called 'a bad day'), but in my defence they generally deserved it. Everyone talks about the 'knowledge of the ancients' and the 'forgotten, cherished culture', but no-one brings up the 'sadistic slavery' or the 'human sacrifices' or the 'demon worship' (other demons that is, polytheism is confusing).\n\nIf you ask these learned scholars about what I've done more recently, all they can do is wave their hands around vaguely and refer to some local despot's recent turn to madness, or the latest invasion of some trumped-up hegemonic empire. I'm now used as a scapegoat for every would-be emperor, dictator or fanatic's rise to power. Some local mayor goes off the deep end and decides to play 'Citizen Murder 2: Murder Harder', and I get blamed.\n\nDo people really think I have the time to inspire all these invasions, rebellions and revolutions? There's only so many hours in the day, you know. Not to mention, doesn't anyone find it weird that a God previously feared as \"The Destroyer of Armies and Nations\" is resorting to corrupting random monarchs and inspiring vaguely menacing prophecies? Now, I fully admit that I was a bit of a menace when I was younger, but at least I was more than willing to get my hands dirty. When I 'came down like thunder and lighting on my pitiful foes', there was actual thunder and actual lightning. The 'rivers of blood' were probably better called 'streams', but you'd be surprised how much human blood you need for something that could be considered a river. It's like.. at least a large sized country, or a small empire's worth. It's not really practical, is what I'm saying.\n\nWhich, in a round-about way, brings me to you, my dear latest Chosen One. You see, if I was younger, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I would have simply snapped you and your somewhat ostentatious pole-arm like twigs (bonus marks for bringing a halberd by the way, swords are so cliche nowadays). But, you see, I am old now, very old, and killing random humans for the crime of being gullible no longer interests me.\n\nI am very old, and very lonely, for all my brothers and sisters are dead, either by each other's hands, or simply faded away over the centuries. Now, only I am left, and I too will fade away soon enough, once humanity finds gods and demons to replace me. Gunpowder, dynamite, mustard gas, nuclear bombs... you'll all know what they are in time.\n\nAnd so, I make you an offer. I can kill you now, and you can join the long, forgotten list of failed heroes and champions, or you can stay with me here, and I can show you a glimpse of infinity, all the way from the start of the universe, to its eventual end. And if, after all of that, you still wish to kill me, you should know the only weapon that can harm me is Time, and I have plenty of that to give you.",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are an ancient and incredibly powerful god, and you’re furious that your enemies keep sending teenage “chosen ones” to fight you.",
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{
"content": "And yet again... I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs to the temple, and a manly voice yelling. \"Show yourself! Your time has come, it's time for you to die!\"\nSitting at my throne with my lizard-like dogs (dizards? lizogs? I've yet to name them, looks like komodo dragons but bigger, more agile. Smarter.) and petting the head of one of them. The forked tongue went out, tasting the air of another silly human coming to fight me.\n\nI'm the goddess of pestilence and health. My empire is an island, hidden away in a deep crater in the desert. The crater is miles wide, and at the bottom there is a rainforest, a huge lake and my island with my pyramids and my temple. To be able to descend the slick walls of the crater is a feat, and battle the magical waves of the lake. I myself had to split one of those giant trees and build myself a ship to get there and defeat the previous owner of the island. But that's a story for another time.\n\nThe human came panting up the last steps and stood before me. My pets hissed at the intruder but a command from me made them stand down.\nWe locked eyes, and I saw the belief in the mans eyes. He was so sure he could kill me, so sure he was a \"chosen\" one. I couldn't resist rolling my eyes and sigh.\n\"Ungh. Another one? Who sent you?\" I showed him a fanged smile and turned the attention to my long sharp nails and forearm. Along the arm two giant fangs sat, shining in the light. The fangs of a snake titan I killed. A very formidable weapon, especially if I licked the tips of the fangs. That turned them venomous. I had another set on my other arm.\n\n\"Lazarius sent me! He is a true god, and you are not!\" The man yelled at the top of his lungs, like I was deaf or something. He pulled out a sword, pretty shiny and pointed it towards me.\nI laughed, and my lizards laughed, a raspy, hissing laughter and they bared their pointy teeth. They ate the last chosen one who tried to fight me, and they lusted for blood. Wish I didn't feed them humans in the first place, as they tend to hunt my own followers in the rainforest when they get bored. Oh well.\n\"Oh did he now...? So what are you gonna do, stab me?\" I flashed a smile at him and locked my eyes on his. He froze as the spell activated. Slowly I climbed out of my throne and walked towards him, hips swaying. My scaled skin glistening in the light, the golden dragon tattoos on my ribs slowly turning their heads to look at the poor man.\n\nHe was sweating profusely, trying to move but my spell locked him in place. I studied the sword of his, looked like any other sword. Nothing special.\nI turned my gaze back to him and now he looked scared.\n\"Lazarius didn't tell you about my powers, did he? Oh well, you will be dead soon. Tell him hi when you see him in the Underworld again.\"\nI snapped my fingers and my lizards threw themselves at the man, ending his life quickly. He didn't even have time to yell. Turning my back, I heard more steps.\n\n\"THERE SHE IS! Get her! You, take that side! The others, go around there!\" Trying to count the voices, I had to stop at fifteen because then the automatic fire started. I hate guns. Loud, stings and the bastards can duck behind cover and still attack me. Apparently the first man had run ahead to show his bravery to my enemy, the god of shadows. He loved to send his little followers to annoy me.\n\nThe bullets hit the stones around my feet and I hissed as some of them hit my skin. Not strong enough to hurt me but to annoy me.\nMy patience running thin, and realizing they were too many to take out singlehandedly I started uttering a long spell and letting my voice rise above the gunshots. I could feel it build up inside, and I let it out. From my mouth a million insects poured. They skittled and flew and surrounded the entire temple, the buzzing like music to my ears. Then the screaming started, and they people ran around, waving their hands above their heads, clawing at their necks, eyes, ears. Soon pustules plopped out on their faces, fingers turning black and rotting. Eyes rotting in the sockets. Ears bleeding.\nOne by one, they died horribly.\n\nThe buzzing died out, and some whimping from the last stragglers were heard. My lizards made short work of them as I walked down the stairs to the harbor and my ship. It was time to end this once and for all. The world needs a new plague.",
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] |
2022-06-29T16:29:01 | 2018-06-24T21:53:23 | 647 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "“Nobody’s spoken that language in thousands of years.” Whispered the cashier, dropping my McNuggets. “I thought I was the last one! I can’t believe there’s more survivors! I mean, you skin is a little more pale than I would expect but who cares? Follow me, we need to talk!”\n\n“But my McNuggets” I said\n\n“Don’t worry, I’ll make you however many nuggets you want if you come sit and talk with me.”\n\nI shrugged and decided I would entertain this guy. I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying but I wanted to entertain this little crazy man. We sat down in a small booth far away from anymore McDonalds connoisseurs and he started to talk. \n\n“So, how did you escape? What do you remember? Are there more like you and me out there?”\n\n“Look buddy I have no idea what you’re talking about, escape from what?”\n\n“From the earthquake of course! What else would I be talking about?”\n\n“There was an earthquake? What language are you hearing right now exactly?”\n\n“ATLANTEAN OF COURSE!”\n\nNow this threw me back. \n“What? Atlantis is fake my guy.” \n\n“Well then why are you speaking fucking Atlantean?”\n\n“I’m not, I’m just talking! What happened in ‘Atlantis’ that I should be worried about, hmmm?”\n\nA look of sadness and remembrance came over his face. \n“Well I’m from there. Over 1000 years ago my island was swallowed by the ocean. Earthquakes, fires, tsunamis... they plowed over my island and I was lucky to have been on a traders ship outside of Atlantis’ main port.”\n\n“What makes you think I’m going to believe you?” I said, actually quite curious now. Either he was a good actor or telling the truth. \n\n“Well, Atlanteans live forever unless killed, and since I’ve been around for that long I have some pretty neat stuff back home that might convince you.”\n\n“As long as you get me my fucking McNuggets.”\n________________________\n________________________\nHey r/WritingPrompts , long time lurker first time poster here. I left a lot of plot holes, I know. But the first thing I thought of was Atlantis and I wanted to do something with it. I have an idea for more of this story but my formatting and the gaps between my dialogue made me cringe too much to keep going. \n\nDon’t tear me apart pls",
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{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I looked up at him; a pair of black eyes met mine – a look of fear and hostility in those eyes. I was taken aback.\n\nI learnt about my gift from a very early age; surprisingly enough I never faced any suspicion. “You’re a polyglot, Sammy”, said my uncle wryly. But he never questioned how I came to be one. And it may sound surprising but I never felt bothered to question it much. I had much fun in college, talking to many international students, learnt so much from them. To tell the truth, it has been my opinion – deep down in my heart – that I am special and gifted, and I took this as granted. Many people are born with so many innate abilities, this is mine and I am proud of it.\n \nI looked at him closely; he is young, barely in his twenties. His thin pale face becoming thinner by the minute. He is scrutinizing me too, what is he seeing in me? I wonder what conclusion he is arriving at in his mind.\n\nI tried to smile at him. I thought of telling him that I am a linguist, I learnt it in a course in college, which is a lie of course. But I understood it is not a lighthearted situation. The young man standing before me looks too upset.\n“Nobody’s spoken that language in thousands of years”, he said slowly, almost as if to himself. I heard pain in his voice, evoking in me some unknown, unnameable memory of things in me, of occurrences which never happened to me, but I could feel – in my heart of hearts – that these things happened, somewhere, sometime – in this very world. \n\nHis lips are trembling now, he is in the verge of tears. He is one of the bearers of the knowledge, belonging to a small set of survivors, who fled and evaded from enemies, carrying what part of their identity that they could – their culture and their language. A handful of texts which survived at a great cost, taught to the young ones with a warning of never speaking it in the outside world. The memory is still there, of persecution, of being hunted like animals. Eons have passed, but the fear remains, so does the pain. \n\nAll these I came to know, standing there, staring at each other. A shared past, of mutual destruction, humanity’s worst crimes, history not recorded. But it did not get erased, I came to know it never will be erased.\n \nI came out of the McDonalds, under the glaring sun.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2022-11-14T01:20:47 | 2018-06-24T20:16:31 | 163 | 56 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The cashier in front of me froze, his eyes narrowing. I'd read books where the author described someones eyes as being calculating, but I thought I could actually see him doing math. Weighing variables, probabilities and even analyzing a threat. \n\"Care to repeat that?\" He asked, though it was more of a command. His previous, jolly personality gone, replaced by a flat sheet of the coldest ice. It was unnerving. \n\"I, uh, I said I'd like a number one meal. Large. Are you okay?\" \nHe stared for a second more, then his jolliness was back, the ice melted. \n\"Of course. Coming right up. Will that be all?\" \n\"Uh... Yeah. That's it.\" I swiped my card and sat at the table to wait. As I ate my burger, I could feel his gaze in my back, even while he helped other customers. The burger tasted bland as I ate it as fast as possible, so I could get away from this strange man. \nI had put it all behind me when I pulled up to my house, ready to relax. Coat abandoned on the floor for tomorrow, I sat and turned on the TV, beer in hand. \n\"Kind of you to join me, Kaitlyn.\" \nI jumped to my feet, spilling my beer on the couch. \"What the fuck?! Who are you? Why'd you follow me?\" He sat cross legged on the armchair, unnoticed until now. \n\"I'm afraid I will be conducting the interrogation today. You see, you are speaking a language that's not only dead, but extinct. No one should know of it, save myself. The fact that you even know *about* would make me shudder in fear if I were capable. The implications alone make me consider if killing you now would be for the best. I offer you a rare opportunity in my line of work. A chance. How do you know how to speak English, and how did you follow me through The Gate?\" \nMy brain had decided to call it quits, and to be fair, shock is a helluva drug. This man was talking about dead languages and gates. He put a lot of emphasis on his mention of the gate. I didn't know of any gate. I'd never even heard of English. Of course, I knew he was just hearing me speak in his native tongue, but the fact that he said no one but himself should know of it was throwing me off. \nI must have paused too long because he sighed and began to reach for a long, steel blade. \"Wait, wait, wait! Hear me out. I have a special power. I can speak and understand any language. People always hear me in their native tongue, so that's what's happening, you're hearing me speak English. Please don't kill me.\" \nHe took his hand off of the blade and nodded to himself. \"I see. Yes. I will not kill you.\" \n\"Oh, God. Thank you-\" \n\"You will be most useful.\" \nEverything went black.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I blinked. *What?* \n\nThe cashier had tears in his eyes and was staring right into mine with such intensity I had to keep blinking. \n\n\"L.M.A.O. my dude,\" I offered nervously, not knowing what he had just heard me say. \"Are you feeling alright?\"\n\nHe didn't answer. In the moments that followed, silence took over the room as neither of us said or did anything. I had counted to 69 Mississippi's in my head when Jefe - that was his name, according to the name tag I noticed and read after Mississippi 42 - suddenly jumped over the register onto the customer side. Before I could react, he started running for the door.\n\n\"Hey, wait!\" I yelled after him, but he did not listen. Jefe burst through the glass door and out into the street, seemingly unaffected by the flurry of broken glass and metal that his body had encountered. \n\nI turned back to the register and an older, Hispanic man in McDonald's kitchenware emerged from the kitchen. \"Hey,\" I started nervously, checking his apron for a name tag. It was on his lower left abdomen area, and it read Jeff. \"Jeff, I ordered two large fries and a fountain drink.\"\n\n\"*Eey*! You speak fantastic Portuguese, my friend!\" Jeff whispered, smiling. \"Your order is ready, I was just about to bring it out when I heard some noise.\" He turned and walked back towards the kitchen, but stopped abruptly in front of the doorway. \"Wait a second, how did you know I come from Portugal?\" he said, his upbeat tone quickly fading. \"And where is the boy, Jefe?\" \n\n\"Oh yeah, Jefe said something really weird and -\" A loud screech and thud interrupted my sentence. I turned and dashed over to a window beside the destroyed entrance to see what caused the noise. An old, beat up looking Jeep was stopped haphazardly across the middle of road. Its windshield was covered in blood and shattered through the upper right corner. My eyes scanned the parking lot and I gasped, quite audibly, when I saw what the Jeep had hit. \n\nJefe's body lay a few yards in front of the Jeep, crumpled up like a bloody pretzel. I stood by the window dazed as Jeff ran out of the store screaming. *What the flippity fuck?* My mind was blank and seemed to be preparing to produce its first thoughts to react when a bright light made me blink and squint. The light was followed by a deafening bang and a shock wave that made me back up a few steps. Just like that, the Jeep had exploded. \n\nBits of metal and rubber flew into the store through the shattered windows as what was just a few seconds ago a Jeep became a smoldering pile of metal. *What did Jefe mean by thousands of years? Why did this Jeep explode? Where did Jeff go?* These questions raced through my mind. I carefully climbed over the rubble surrounding the entrance and looked around. Suddenly, another blinding light made me look away. *Another explosion?!* I thought incredulously. I was right. \n\nJefe had exploded. ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-06-24T22:28:33 | 2018-06-24T21:42:04 | 22 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I've always had to pretend I was mute. When I was very small, as soon as I hit the milestone to talk, I had been fluent in English. I remember bits and pieces before everything changed. That day I remembered clearly, well the important bits at least. I don't remember that morning, but I remembered the afternoon. Mum and dad had been so proud of me talking, the fact that I was learning and understanding things so quickly, that was until the day their friend had come over. I remember they had a slight accent and when I talked to them, they had been surprised then grinned at me. I happily chatted away while my parents starred on in horror. After their friend left, the smiles on their faces fell instantly. There was a lot of muttered and quite angry talking in the other room. I sat, pretending to play with my toy cars, but my stomach twisted and turned. I had done something wrong, but I didn't' know what. There was a door slam and then the house was quiet. I heard shuffling as dads head poked into the room to check on me before he vanished upstairs. Dinner was silent. Mum was back and hadn't said a word, she was tight lipped and had crashed and banged in the kitchen as she cooked dinner. Dad had talked quietly to me, but kept shushing me if I talked too loud. I didn't get it. Dinner ended without incident, I ever got cake! It's weird how I remember the cake so clearly. The normal routine continued on as the sun set outside. Dad turned the TV on and plonked down into his chair and switched the channel onto BBC 2 to watch Star Trek. I sat on his knee and watched happily as the clinking of glass and cutlery echoed around the room. Then men with weird faces came onto the screen and started talking, brandishing a weapon. I held my hand up like I had one to and yelled at the top of my voice. Suddenly my mum was in the room. She ripped me from my dads lap, screaming at me, hitting me. I screamed and cried, my heart pounding in my chest. I screamed for dad but the hits kept coming. Mum screamed at me to shut up, to never do that again, pinning me to a wall, her face inches from mine. I screamed in fear, begging for dad to help, which sent her into and even bigger rage, another hit struck the side of my face and I crumbled silently to the floor, my head spinning. I heard wrestling and more screaming before the house went quiet. \n\n~*~\n\nI was locked in my room after that. That's what I remember next. I hurt, my little white t-shirt with a unicorn on the front was stained with blood from my face. My hand hurt to move. I had wrapped it in a little bandage from my little medical kit. I was hungry. No one had come into the room for ages. When mum did come in I cried and ran to her, but she didn't let me close, she hit me. As soon as my mouth opened she hit me. I shrieked and she hit me again. Screaming at me to shut up. Once I was quiet, just the occasional sniff as I hid in the corner between the wall and my bed I heard something being placed down on the ground. It had been a sandwich and a glass of water. She left, locking the door behind her. The room became my prison. Mum would flip out if she even thought I had made a sound. I eventually stopped talking to everyone, even dad. \n\nWe moved one day. Just me and mum. Dad didn't come with us. He never lay a finger on me. He would talk to me kindly when mum went out. He would sneak home in his lunch hour to see me. He talked to me, but only allowed me to whisper back, telling me he was the only person I could talk to but only if it was the two of us. I missed him. Mum moved me out after there were questions about whether I was starting school with the neighbours kids. It was just the two of us. I sat quietly, not doing much of anything every single day. She allowed me more freedom, but I was never allowed to utter a sound. She gave me books to read and I quickly devoured them. Once she was satisfied I wouldn't say a word no matter what, she took me to the doctor, who quickly signed something saying I was mute but that was it. I started school the next week. \n\n~*~\n\nI sat in class, looking out of the window dreamily. Our supply teacher hadn't arrived yet so there wasn't much of anything to do beyond chat and cause chaos. My class ignored me like they normally did. It was as if I didn't exist at this point. I'd never said a word to anyone in this room. I'd known some of these kids for seven years, if I had said anything, it would spread around the school like wildfire and mum would find out, but I did talk to random people who had no idea who I was. The cashier at McDonalds had been the last one. I really wanted some food and the only person working so early couldn't read the note I had written before I entered, so I had to talk. His eyes had opened widely and he had stepped back from me. He rambled something about a forgotten language, his language before he told me to leave and never come back. I hadn't dared go near that store again. I hadn't uttered a word since. The class went quiet suddenly, unusual for them. A man walked into the room with a presence that screamed he wasn't someone to mess with. I starred at him wide eyed. It was the man from McDonalds. I kept my head down and sunk down in my seat as he looked around the room before pulling out a sheet of paper to do the register. When he got to my name I didn't even bang on the desk like I normally would have, I just stayed quiet. My classmates quickly informed him I couldn't talk and things moved on quickly. \n\nClass was finally over, but over the sound of people packing away and sliding chairs I heard a voice boom over the class, \"mute kid, stay.\"\n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. \"Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I froze up, my go-to whenever anything significant happens in my life.\n\n\"Yeah, well, that kid's mom gave him such a whooping for it, we *all* learned a lesson!\"\n\nStupid joke. That's my other go-to. I was about to apologize for it when I realized: she's catatonic. Her eyes fixed on nothing a couple inches over my left shoulder—I don't think she was even breathing.\n\n\"Dude, what did you *say* to her?\"\n\nI swung around. The guy behind me was about 6'2\" and thin, with short, dark hair, and he was wearing a suit with some sort of conference nametag that said \"Charles Anderson.\" I pored over it for what, at least to me, was just a couple seconds. It also said **2018 / \"BE COURAGEOUS!\"** I wish I was making this stuff up.\n\n\"What did you *say*?\"\n\nIt wasn't Charles. Charles was looking squarely above the whole debacle, hand on his chin, eyes hopping between what were probably the \"**2: Quarter Pounder**^(®) with cheese\" and the \"**3: Double Quarter Pounder**^(®) with cheese.\" *Thank God for Charles,* I thought. If everyone in the world were like Charles, it would be so much better for me. I could just go about my day unnoticed, even with this new...quirk.\n\n\"What did you *fucking* say to that lady?\"\n\nIt was the guy behind Charles. He had dreads and what looked like alpaca wool covered in Chotchkie's flair. But his physique was decidedly more juicer than deadhead, and he was glaring at me so hard his face seemed to be turning red.\n\n\"I...uh...Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad, Apple Slices, and water....Please.\"\n\nI wasn't lying. I *had* said that. *I* had said that. And what she heard, too, was almost undoubtedly that, just in another language. And I'm sure she understood it as that, unless she's rusty in her mother tongue—I guess it's been a while, after all.\n\n\"Oh yeah? It didn't sound like that to me. It sounded more like 'Sow'll whisper pepequem nose googah' something or other. And I mean—look at her! What did she say back?\"\n\nI briefly looked back at the cashier. There she was, still staring at nothing, still still. At least I could detect what seemed to be a little bit of breathing now.\n\n\"She said, um...\" *Do I tell him the truth? It might be bizarre enough to throw him off his game...*\n\nCharlie helped me out. \"I'm pretty sure I heard her. She said 'Nobody's going to have anguish in the thousand years.'\" He smiled, nodded once, and bizarrely, as if this sort of thing happened to him every day, turned back to studying the menu.\n\nThe Merry Roider seemed to be thrown off his game. He unclenched his face, and it started turning back to that peach tone he clearly wished he didn't have. \"Is that, uh, is that really what she said?\"\n\n\"Um, yup.\" I nodded a few times, briskly, while staring off to the right. *Convincing performance.*\n\n\"Well, what the hell does *that* mean?\"\n\nBeef Slackinoff sure was nosey for just some guy standing in line at McDonald's. \"It, uh, it means...\"\n\nChuck chimed in. \"I'm glad you asked!\" He proceeded to begin to explain...something...to Navy Gravy, while I took the opportunity to extract myself from the conversation and bridge the two-foot gap between myself and the counter.\n\nOur cashier starting coming to. \"Where...uhh...where did you learn that? How did you know I spoke it?\"\n\n*Shit.* I had no alibi. I didn't even know what I was supposed to have an alibi *for.* \"Uh, y'know, you pick up a few things here and there...\"\n\n\"In *Proto-Indo-European?*\"\n\nSo *that's* what it was! How the hell was it her native tongue, though?\n\n\"Um, yeah, you know, just hanging out with other kids when I was little and, um, I mean, reading books, not hanging out—\" I was really good at this.\n\n\"So do you, like, just go up to everyone and do this? Is that, like, your shtick? How often do you get beat up for it?\"\n\n\"Well, *actually*\"—my first good idea of the day just popped into my head—\"I usually try to make an educated guess first as to what someone speaks. And I do have a pretty good batting average.\" I nodded knowingly, as though I had just securely built the roof of a house of cards.\n\n\"Quosmо̄d pewgwonts 'mene gneʕws?\"\n\n*Fuck.* I just realized that despite all this conversation, she—and apparently everyone else around—still heard me speaking in this language I'd never even heard of. She was just starting to respond in it, and I had no fucking clue what she was saying.\n\nI stared blankly and blinked for a few seconds. \"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"But how the fuck did you know for me?\"\n\nI had to think fast, as if a windstorm were about to arrive at card village and I was its only retrofitter. \"Oh, well, uh, you know...\"\n\nI noticed she was wearing a McDonald's tag with her name, Lydia Szemerenyi, on it. I pointed to it. \"It was that.\" The bullshit was flowing so freely out of my mouth that I started to fear for the sanitation of this joint.\n\nShe looked down and nodded knowingly, a tear coming to her right eye. \"It was great-grandpa's dying wish when I was born. Grandpa, dad, mom, the whole bunch, they didn't let me play with other kids until my sixth birthday, and wouldn't speak to me in anything other than that godforsaken abomination of a tongue—\"\n\nChotchkie's interrupted her moment. \"Can't anyone get a *fucking* burger around here?\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-08-22T06:32:19 | 2018-08-22T05:03:46 | 30 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] The doomsday is here. Everybody gets judged by god and sent to hell or heaven. Your time has come, but as you are standing in front of god, you hear it's confused voice in your head: \"You are completely banlanced. I dont know, what i should do with you...\"",
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{
"content": "\"Perfectly... balanced?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, you are indeed\"\n\n\n\"So, like...\" — I slowly inhale: \"as all things should be?\"\n\n\nSuddenly, God changes his facial expressions and looks upon me from under his eyebrows. \"This solves our issue, then\".\n\n\nFloor underneath my feet disappears, I start falling as air around me gets hotter and hotter.\n\n\nI am going to hell... \n\n\nBut I regret nothing.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] The doomsday is here. Everybody gets judged by god and sent to hell or heaven. Your time has come, but as you are standing in front of god, you hear it's confused voice in your head: \"You are completely banlanced. I dont know, what i should do with you...\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"What do you mean by that? According to the weird preacher that used to come to my door, as soon as you sin you're doomed, and all sin! Either I've sinned and I'm doomed or I haven't sinned and I go to paradise!\"\n\n\"You're exactly right. That preacher knew what he was talking about.\"\n\n\"So I'm not in the middle then?\"\n\n\"No, you're completely so-so.\"\n\n\"But you just said it has to be one or the other, it can't be both!\"\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n\"So I'm not in the middle!\"\n\n\"No.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-09-21T10:46:54 | 2018-09-21T10:12:57 | 28 | 16 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You wake up on September 22, 2018 in place you’ve never been before. You can’t remember what happened, everyone you ask doesn’t remember the day before, either. It becomes an international mystery. It seems no one can remember the 21st night of September.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Oh, boy. Another Saturday evening drinking ram's blood and doing Gregorian chants with the folks. They say you can take the boy out of the Pagan moon-worshiping cult, but you can't take the Pagan moon-worshiping cult out of the boy, or out of Clearwater County, Idaho, despite the best attempts of one State Marshall Susan Hernandez and her loyal hound dog Boone. So here I am, dancing around in sheepskin with my parents and their friends, hollering insults at the Sun, the devil-star that, in its gaudy brightness, thinks it can upstage His Lunar Majesty.\n\n\"Hey, fuck you, you goddamn showoff!\" my dad shouts, shaking his fist at the rotten stellar bastard.\n\n\"You think you're better than us? Just because you can do nuclear fusion and we can't? Well you aren't!\" shouts my Aunt Vivienne, throwing an empty can of Diet Rite in its general direction.\n\n\"Yeah, I can do nuclear fusion right now! Just watch me!\" says my dad's friend Gary. Gary puffs up like some kind of goddamn pufferfish, trying to replicate the conditions of extreme heat and pressure that are necessary for nuclear fusion. He can't, obviously, so instead he takes a swig of rum and falls over on his dumb face.\n\nEventually, of course, the Sun sets and the Moon, in all its nightly glory, rises. For a second, the setting Sun and the rising Moon are both visible in the sky. That's when shit gets weird.\n\n\"Hey, those assholes down there are talking shit about me again,\" the Sun says to the Moon. When the Sun talks, a big cartoony mouth opens up, like Garfield the Cat when he's eating, except it takes eight minutes for light from the Sun to reach Earth, so we don't see that yet.\n\n\"Oh, Christ,\" says the Moon. \"Is it that stupid cult again? It thinks you're evil and I'm God. It doesn't understand that we're both just people.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said the Sun. \"I volunteer at animal shelters on the weekend. I'm not all bad.\"\n\n\"And I killed Neil Armstrong with that moon virus that took forty years to incubate. I can be a real stinker.\"\n\n\"Hey, you want to fuck with them?\"\n\n\"Do I!\"\n\nThe next roughly thirty-one hours of my memory are missing. When I woke up on September 22, I was on å røcky cliff in Finland, and I had no idea how I'd gotten there. I looked at my reflection in a pool of water. Someone had drawn the phrase, \"SUN RULES\" with Sharpie marker on my left cheek. There were several empty Moon-Pie wrappers around me. I was totally naked and one of my buttcheeks was missing.\n\nWhen I got back to civilization, I found out that everyone had a similar story. No one knew what had happened the previous day. Most had some kind of sun- or moon-graffiti on their body. Some had woken up surrounded by Moon-Pie wrappers, others by empty bottles of Sunny-D. Everybody was missing one of their buttcheeks. No one remembered anything, but the consensus was clear: the twin bastards in the sky had played a mean joke.\n\nWhen I got back to Idaho, the pagan cult didn't feel much like worshiping the Moon anymore. Instead, we worshiped a rock we found for a little while, and then a goat that looked kind of like Charlie Chaplin, and finally this guy Chris who works at Best Buy. Eventually we gave up and became athiests, learned to code and moved to Palo Alto. What happened on September 21, 2018 will always haunt me. But what haunts me even more, is ghosts.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You wake up on September 22, 2018 in place you’ve never been before. You can’t remember what happened, everyone you ask doesn’t remember the day before, either. It becomes an international mystery. It seems no one can remember the 21st night of September.",
"role": "user"
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"content": "He couldn't say for sure if he'd been dancing last night, but his legs were stiff and his favorite dancing shoes lay by the side of his bed. The evidence seemed damning, but why couldn't he remember? \n\nIt was a sunny morning. Jason could feel the heat of the sun filtering through the blinds of his open window. He kicked off his sheets and stretched as he rose. The cool breeze from the open window mixed with the warm sunlight felt good on his naked skin. Scanning the room he spotted his boxers from yesterday laying on the radiator. He grabbed them, pulled them on, and gave himself another big stretch before heading to the kitchen. \n\nIt was Friday. Finally. It felt like a long week. The last two had been short, with labor day and a long weekend for a trip up north. He was between projects at work, giving him more time to think about everything he'd rather be doing. Today would be better, no matter how boring, busy, monotonous, or stressful the week was, Friday's were always better. \n\nIn the kitchen he went through the daily motions of making coffee: water, filter, coffee, on. While the coffee is brewing, he showered and dressed before returning to the kitchen to make toast. Once the bread was in the toaster, he poured himself a cup of coffee and let it cool on the windowsill. From the fridge he grabbed his lunch, which he had premade on Sunday, and packed it in his bag to bring to work. By the time his toast was ready, his coffee had cooled to the point that it was drinkable. With his peanut butter toast in one hand and his coffee in the other, Jason leaned back against the counter and took a sip of coffee, feeling relaxed. He was proud his morning routine. He loved the efficiency of it. Everything just worked so well.\n\nOnce he'd cleaned up his breakfast, he grabbed his bag and headed out the door. He reached for his keys to lock it, but paused when his keys were not in his pocket. Back inside, he checked his bedside table, the kitchen table, and the pockets he'd worn yesterday. No luck. Without his keys he wouldn't be driving anywhere and he hated taking the bus. Did he really need to go into the office today? Probably not, he decided. He slung his bag on a chair in the dining room and sat down in the seat next to it. He would email his manager about his situation and work from home. On his laptop he connected to internet, opened Outlook, and waited for it to load. In the meantime, he opened a new browser session and went to the Times to read the headlines. \"Do you remember, the 21st night of September?\" read the first headline. Jason felt himself smile, the headline was from the 70's hit September by Earth, Wind, and Fire. Curious, he read the subtitle \"People across the world reporting no memory of the 21st night of September, 2018.\" His smile faded, his stomach turned to butterflies.\n\nWhen had woken up, he hadn't given a second thought to his lack of memory for the night before. His thoughts had moved to the day ahead. His nights were often uneventful, spent reading or watching YouTube videos of live musicians. Sometimes, particularly when he was in a good mood, he would put on some funky jams and dance in his room. Based on the fact that his legs were a bit stiff and his Chuck Taylor's were next to his bed, he'd assumed he'd been dancing. But now, with the world seeming to have had a spell of dimentia, he wondered, what could have caused this?\n\nJason decided someone else would figure it out. He went back to his email and began writing his boss to tell him he'd be working from home today.\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-09-25T06:34:19 | 2018-09-25T06:31:02 | 219 | 19 | [
{
"content": "[WP]: Your son's solution to every problem was to fake his own death. Broke a vase? Fake death. Failed a class? Fake death. Moving out to college, he mysteriously disappeared. 20 years later, you get letter in familiar handwriting. \"Mom? Please don't get mad, but I REALLY need your help...\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "With shaking hands, I carried my son's letter into my study. \n\nI read it.\n\nThen I read it again.\n\nOver the 20 long years that he was missing, James had lived a wild and varied life, full of hijinks and adventures.\n\nAnd now my baby was in trouble. A mother's child is always her baby, even if that child is forty years old. \n\nHow could I help him?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI studied the return address on the envelope. I booted up the computer and opened up Word, searching for the first words I'd say to my son after decades of grief and heartbreak.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Dear James,\" I started.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I am sorry to inform you that your mother Linda passed away in 2014 after a brief battle with Stage IV kidney cancer...\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]: Your son's solution to every problem was to fake his own death. Broke a vase? Fake death. Failed a class? Fake death. Moving out to college, he mysteriously disappeared. 20 years later, you get letter in familiar handwriting. \"Mom? Please don't get mad, but I REALLY need your help...\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"...I'm trying to get out of my Saturday work shift, but I need someone who can take the heat for my death. I'll make it look like manslaughter, you'd only go to jail for 5 to 10 years, promise. Love you, miss you!\"\n\nMy hands trembled as I carefully crafted my response.\n\n\"I thought you'd been dead for 20 years! Where the hell have you been, how could you do this to me?!\"\n\nThree weeks later, I got his response - another letter in that same familiar handwriting.\n\n\"We found your letter among your son's possessions and thought we had better write back to you. Hopefully you are sitting down for this. Your son is dead. He was manslaughtered. We are very sorry for your sudden loss. Sincerely, The Police. PS. Can you maybe cover his work shift this Saturday? It's cool if not, just let us know. You can write to us at your son's address, we'll get it.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2018-12-11T08:21:10 | 2018-12-11T07:28:47 | 108 | 49 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Only you can see the thread that connects people to their soulmate. You've never told anyone and if you have a thread you can't see it. Today you caught someone staring at you when you asked they said, with tears in their eyes: \"You are the only person I've seen with no soulmate.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Watching people stroll hand in hand in the park is fulfilling and heartbreaking at the same time. Seeing the couples whose threads are tangled and entwined gives me hope. Even the ones where the thread is thin and fraying between them are nice. At least they found their other before it was too late. Sometimes another thread grows, but often they’re too heartbroken to pursue another relationship. But the ones where their threads are fleeing the hands that hold the bodies together are the sad ones. They smile and laugh, looking into each other’s eyes, perhaps not knowing how happy they could be with the person at the other end of their threads. Or even worse, they do know.\n\nI’ve helped exactly 16 people meet the end of their thread. Only 8 couples. But what do you say in that scenario? “I see threads that connect everyone to their soulmate. You belong together.” The easiest successes were my best friends and people who didn’t speak the same language. It’s about appealing to their instincts, I think. In public places, it’s difficult to focus on my work or stick my nose in a book and ignore that I could help these people.\n\nI was thinking about my soul meeting speech when my thoughts were interrupted by a little girl, staring at me, mouth agape. She slowly walked towards me, eyes peering, searching in the ground around the bench I occupied. My eyebrow raised, I continued watching her.\n\n“You are the only person I’ve seen with no soulmate.”\n\n“There are a lot of boyfriends and girlfriends here, aren’t there?” I smiled, playing along.\n\n“No, your string. You don’t have one!” She was still circling me, lifting my bag, searching.\n\n“My string...?” It dawned on me. She could see them too. I slammed my book shut and leaned toward her.\n\n“Do you see everyone’s string?”\n\n“Yes. But you don’t have one.”\n\n“Neither do you,” I teased.\n\n“Well, yeah, that’s cheating.”\n\nI laughed. I had always thought the same thing. \n\n“Where’s your parents?”\n\n“They’re at home. I’m out with my class.” She pointed to a group of children running around the playground. Apparently, the teacher had not noticed she was missing yet.\n\nI decided to steal one more minute. “I can see the strings, too.”\n\nHer face lit up. \n\n“But not everyone can so you need to be careful about who you tell.”\n\n“My mom says that, too. But I just want to make people happy.”\n\n“Me, too. I try real hard to help people but some people think you might be a little crazy.” \n\nShe laughed at my cross eyed, crazy face. \n\n“Okay, let’s bring you back to your class.”\n\nI took her hand and we walked towards her schoolmates.\n\n“Is it lonely without a soulmate?”\n\n“Not anymore.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Only you can see the thread that connects people to their soulmate. You've never told anyone and if you have a thread you can't see it. Today you caught someone staring at you when you asked they said, with tears in their eyes: \"You are the only person I've seen with no soulmate.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Wh-what do you mean?\" I said, my voice catching in fear.\n\n\"I've never seen this before,\" she whispered her hands passing through the area where my thread should have been. \"There's nothing there.\"\n\nNo. No. Everyone has a soulmate. That's the only thing that made this world okay. The promise that someone-- anyone out there would be there for you. Through thick and thin, through rain or shine someone was supposed to be there!\n\n\"You're lying,\" I said, feeling the pinprick of tears in my eyes. \n\nShe had flinched in fear at my voice, but said with a quiet confidence, \"I've never been wrong about this. Your thread isn't simply gone. Sometimes when someone goes through heartbreak, the thread wavers, goes translucent, shatters even, but fragments still remain. Eventually they work themselves back together, but you, you don't even have fragments. It's empty.\"\n\nIt was true. I knew it was true. I had never been able to see my own thread, much less feel it. I just didn't want to believe. I had always assumed that eventually it would grow, that maybe someone out there was meant for me, that someone would want me with all of their heart. I was older than I could remember and I had never really known love. I had seen it blossom. I had helped guide people to their soulmate. I had even been able to cut threads when someone's soul mate had turned terrible. I had saved people from a soulmate that only had a one way thread. I had helped mend fragmented threads. And here I was destined never to have love of my own.\n\n\"I'm so sorry Eris,\" she said, \"I can help--\"\n\n\"Save it Aphrodite,\" I hissed, turning my back on her. \"If I am not meant to receive my own true love, then why should I help these stupid mortals find their own love? Answer me that Goddess of Love? You would truly leave your most faithful priestess to this fate? No. I refuse.\"\n\nShe reached towards me, but I slapped her hand away.\n\n\"No more. I am no longer one of yours. From now on, I will play with these mortals as I see fit.\"\n\nA couple that I had helped bring together walked towards us. I saw their threads woven together so finely that you couldn't tell where one thread started and the other began. \n\nNo matter. It didn't matter where one began. Not for what I wanted do do. I walked towards them, and their faces lit up, recognizing me as the stranger that had helped them get together. \n\nI learned in, whispering things in both of their ears, things that each knew was not true about the other but nonetheless the seed was planted. \n\nI stared in glee as their thread began fraying and crumbling, disintegrating, dying as their relationship died in a few harsh words. \n\nI turned back towards Aphrodite.\n\n\"No more.\" ",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-01-23T11:45:16 | 2019-01-23T11:40:26 | 214 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] A well meaning but scientifically illiterate person is granted one wish. They wish for a drastic change to the world trying to make it a better place without realizing what the potential consequences are. The fallout is catastrophic.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Harold gave it some real consideration. After all, it wasn't everyday an opportunity like this presented itself. Hell, it had to be at most once every few years, right?\n\nThe genie, floating above the spout of his small golden chalice, crossed his arms in frustration. \"Hey, look man, if you need some time I can just head back inside. It's cold up here.\"\n\nHarold shook his head. He had it down to two possibilities, he just wasn't sure which. \n\n\"I just need one more second. Just, give one more second.\"\n\nHarold was a simple man. He really didn't want for anything in his life. He could have done with a new lawn mower. The old one was getting pretty old and he had a lot of trouble starting it up nowadays. \n\nThat was the first possible wish, for a new lawn mower. \n\nHowever, truth was Harold could well afford a new lawn mower. Moreover, he was picky about his lawn mower brands and might be disappointed, he figured, if he asked for a lawn mower and got the wrong one. \n\nBut most compellingly to Harold was that he really just wanted the best for others. Most of all, he wanted the best for his son. \n\nHarold's son was the the light of his life. Where Harold was never much of a thinker, his son had graduated from Harvard and MIT. He worked as a nuclear physicist, in a private lab where he was in charge of designing a functioning nuclear reactor\n\nHarold didn't know much about his son's work, but now and again his son would complain to him about the difficulties he was having. \n\n\"God, it's so frustrating,\" Harold's son said once over Thanksgiving dinner, \"I thought the move to fission was the key, but it just isn't. We just can't make it work.\"\n\nHarold nodded along to his son's complaints, understanding none of them. Still, Harold hated to see his son in distress.\n\n\"Son, I know I'm just a simple farmer,\" Harold had said, \"but, well, if there's ever anything I can do to help you out, I just hope you'll let me know.\"\n\nHarold's son laughed a little at that, though he seemed to appreciate the sentiment. Then he said something that presently Harold could not get out of his mind. \n\n\"Sure dad,\" he's said with a smile, \"if you ever get a chance to weaken the strong nuclear force, you just go ahead and do that. That'd help me out a lot.\"\n\nWell, Harold stored that away as a remote but helpful possibility. When he bought the cheap brass oil Lantern at the local flea shop and this genie popped out, suddenly the possibility was a lot less remote. \n\nThe genie sighed, \"look, it's no big deal, take you time, I'm just gonna sit inside...\"\n\nBut Harold's mind was made up. He was tempted to call his son, but he didn't want to ruin the surprise. \"I'm ready,\" he said.\n\nThe genie rubbed his hands together and breathed on his fingers. \"Ok, what'll it be?\"\n\nHarold cleared his throat. \"I wish,\" he began, speaking carefully, \"that the nu-cu-lar strong force was, uh, weaker.\"\n\nThe genie blinked, \"well, what do you mean by weaker?\"\n\nHarold thought for a moment. \"Well, let's uh, I guess, oh hell, we can just get of rid of it altogether.\"\n\nThe genie hesitated for a long second. \"You, um, sure about this mister?\"\n\nHarold nodded confidently. \"Yessir, I sure am. Anything for my boy.\"\n\nWith an uncertain roll of the eyes the genie cracked the fingers of both his hands and nodded. \"OK then. Here goes.\"\n\nThe genie slapped his hands together and every atom everywhere in the entire universe spontaneously broke into its component parts, reducing all matter to homogenous mush.\n\n\n*****\n\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse \n\n#### r/LFTM \n\n",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] A well meaning but scientifically illiterate person is granted one wish. They wish for a drastic change to the world trying to make it a better place without realizing what the potential consequences are. The fallout is catastrophic.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Amsterdam and Venice are reduced to ancient relics of a bygone era, perfectly preserved underwater museums of cobblestone streets and winding canals, now just divots on the ocean floor. Manhattan's streets are waterways, humans inhabiting only the second floor and above, drinking themselves to death as their property values drown in the seething currents.\n\nThe giant Jet stream, a hundred mile wide siphon, shifts and creates droughts and storms on a scale never seen before. Heatwaves wipe out wide swaths of the living and cold-spells freeze infrastructure, leaving trains frozen solid in their tracks.\n\nThe air shimmers above in a translucent ribbon. Bright sunlight reflects sharply off the windshield as the car shoots through the Outback, making its way across a bubbling tarmac road that stretches for miles. The dashboard screen lights up, interrupting AWOLNATION, altering me to an incoming call.\n\nI relish the air conditioning, just now starting to filter out the oppressive heat. \"Hello,\" I say, pushing a button on my steering wheel.\n\n\"Hello,\" a voice says from everywhere at once, coming out of all of the car's speakers.\n\n\"Who is this?,\" I say as I wind down the dusty road, past dying trees and dead kangaroos.\n\n\"Hello Gerald,\" the voice continues, ignoring the question. \"You have the chance to save a doomed world.\"\n\n\"What?\" I say, irritated. \"I'm going to hang up - I'm driving.\"\n\nAn orange rock face to my left cracks and plunges, spewing bright red dirt across the road. \"The cliff to your left just collapsed,\" the voices says. A sign to my right shoots upwards into the air, cannoned off into the stratosphere. \"And that sign just hit Mach 5.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay, I believe you,\" I say, pieces of my mind strewn across the dashboard. \"Holy shit.\"\n\nThe voice is deep and friendly, filled with an authoritative benevolence. \"You have one wish.\"\n\nI'm convinced that I'm dreaming. That the real world waits beyond breakfast and a strong black coffee. \"Fuck it,\" I say. \"Might as well play along with it.\" A wave of altruism comes over me, dead trees spread into the distance on both sides of the road. There are no birds in the air, none able to ride on the hot currents for very long. The ants themselves bake in their nests. \"I wish the world went back to the way it was,\" I say, a broad smile across my face.\n\n\"How do you wish that to happen?,\" the voice says, the tone and tempo of the question encouraging me to answer honestly.\n\n\"I want the sun to grow colder and the oceans to recede and be full of plankton again. I want the land to be full of fruit trees and vegetables, teeming with vibrant life,\" I say, my heart pounding and my ears throbbing with exhilaration, already immersed in that thrilling Utopian world. \"For it to be Eden once more!\"\n\nAnd just like that, I altered history.\n\nThe world changed. Gradually, but it changed. The oppressive heat became a thing of the past and the animals stopped dying. Humanity rejoiced, millions converting to the worship of Gaia, Earth Mother, their savior once more.\n\nBut the change continued and the jungles and forests of the world grew large and menacing, home to cavernous spaces in the undergrowth, and began to encroach on the places where humans thrived. The forest was impervious to all attempts to halt it, as if Earth exercised it's manifest destiny. The animals multiplied and technology failed and the seas grew rich with life.\n\nMechanization and mass production ceased and supply changes that had been carved out for centuries collapsed, the world collectively shuddering and tightening its belt. Waves of migration, columns of migrants parting dense rows of apple and pear trees, searching a place where their cell phone worked and the toilets flushed.\n\nHumanity devolved into splintered factions, each carving out a corner of the sprawling jungle. Each living, loving and dying in the few spots of sunlight that penetrate dense canopy.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-02-25T18:36:15 | 2019-02-25T18:29:01 | 156 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] **Writing Prompt** after a delirious 3am post you made to a conspiracy subreddit about a shadow 100 year war between Hollywood and the Illuminati. You are shaken awake at 5am by Arnold Schwarzenegger \"Now you're part of this..Come with me if you want to live\"",
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"content": "While I had seen most of Arnold Schwarzenegger's films, nothing can truly prepare you for seeing the former governor in very 90's casual attire at 5am in one's bedroom telling you that the wildly bizarre conspiracy theory you had concocted after one too many alcoholic beverages to screw with random strangers was surprisingly accurate and that a secret society who controlled the world is now trying to kill you. Yes, few things compare with meeting Arnold Schwarzenegger under those circumstances.\n\nRousing myself from my 2 hours of sleep, I then noticed that Arnold was not alone in my bedroom. Who else but Danny DeVito , Arnold's costar from the hit 1988 comedy *Twins,* dressed in an identical suit as the other celebrity in my room, standing in the doorway, watching the back of the tall Austrian. It was at this point that I had some questions, because I didn't even really like *Twins,* and if Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger were going to come into my room at 5am in the morning, I would much rather they pick a better film like 1994's hit sci-fi comedy *Junior*, but I felt this was not the most pressing matter.\n\n\"Why are you in my room Mr. Former Governor?\" I asked puzzled for multiple reasons including the ones listed above.\n\n\"They've found you and they're on the way to kill you.\" said the Austrian in a serious tone, pulling me up and out of my bed.\n\nNow standing, I sought further answers. \"Who are they?\"\n\nIt was at this point that Danny joined the conversation.\n\n\"The Illuminati, kid. They found your post on \\[REDACTED\\], and they wanna silence you.\"\n\nI was less shocked at this revelation than I probably should have been, but Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in identical suits appearing at your bedside tends to dull the senses.\n\nArnold piped up, \"We have been at war in secret with the Illuminati since the 90's, and we've been fighting for our lives ever since.\"\n\nAt this point, believing myself to be in a dream, I stated something along the lines of, \"This is so stupid.\"\n\nI was shocked to suddenly receive a slap across the face from Mr. DeVito, both for the suddenness of the blow as well as the speed of the 4'10\" septuagenarian. \"A lot of good folks have died for the cause, kid. River Phoenix, Heath Ledger, Philip Seymour Hoffman---\n\nDanny was suddenly interrupted when the wall exploded to reveal Tom Cruise hovering in the air outside my bedroom, orbs of light hovering around his head. I was excited at the prospect of Tom Cruise signing my copy of Jerry Maguire on VHS, before we had to skedaddle from the Illuminati. I turned to look at the stars of *Twins,* their faces contorted into a look of sheer horror.\n\nIt was then that I realized Tom Cruise had to be a part of the Illuminati, because how can you star in *Eyes Wide Shut* and not be. The fact that Stanley Kubrick died soon after completing the Tom Cruise vehicle, also sealed the realization in my head. The floating sparkley-head man spoke in a deep-voice:\n\n\"We meet again Twins. We only want the boy for now, but your time will soon come.\"\n\nArnold leveled his machine gun at the star of the profitable Mission Impossible series and yelled \"Hasta la Vista, Cruisey\" before opening fire.\n\nWhile contemplating how cliché his own line had become, I was astounded by Tom absorbing each and every bullet into his being, like Chia seeds on a food product, kind of useless but hopefully they'll do something.\n\nMr. DeVito, with his cat-like quickness, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of my room with Arnold inching along behind us. Mr. DeVito let me know that the bullets would slow down the fallen star, but we needed to get going if I wanted to keep making appearances in the living world.\n\nEver since that night, I've been a part of the Hollywood underground, fighting in secret to protect the world from the Illuminati. I could give you all the details, but you'll probably get them soon enough. Just listen for a knock on your door and two men of differing heights waiting to usher you onto our side.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] **Writing Prompt** after a delirious 3am post you made to a conspiracy subreddit about a shadow 100 year war between Hollywood and the Illuminati. You are shaken awake at 5am by Arnold Schwarzenegger \"Now you're part of this..Come with me if you want to live\"",
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"content": "\"What the shit?!\" Simone jumped back and reached for his gun. \n\nUnfortunately, it seemed he'd actually gone to sleep in pyjamas like a normal person, as he didn't have his gun on him. Simone then realized the man wasn't wearing an eraser uniform, instead he was wearing normal people clothes. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then immediately panicked again because a random muscle man was in his bed at 5 AM. He screamed, like most people would in such a ridiculous scenario.\n\nAaron immediately came running. She threw open the door so hard it went flying. \"Who are you, and how did you get in here?\" Aaron was prepared and actually had a gun on her. Simone silently rejoiced. That senile, perverted, crazy old bitch had actually helped him. He didn't get much time to think about it when the muscle man grabbed him and attempted to run past Aaron. Aaron finally used her brain and tripped him. She put a foot on the man's back. \"You have one minute to explain who you are, why you're here, and what you want with Simone, before I blast your brains out.\" \n\nBefore the man could say anything, the grey haired woman holding him down seemed to notice something. \"Are you...?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm Arnold Schwarzenegger.\" \n\n\"Who the hell is that? I was gonna ask if you worked for Axel or Mi.\" \n\n\"Who are they?\"\n\n\"People Aaron and I aren't on good terms with.\" Simone piped up, still being crushed under Arnold's weight. \"And Aaron, get him the fuck off me! He's going to break my bones!\" \n\n\"No can do. This guy doesn't work for Axel or Mi, but I have no idea how he got into this house. It might not be nearly as secure as the machine, but it shouldn't have been a cake walk getting in here.\" \n\nBefore any further things could be said, several people jumped on through the windows. Not in the typical eraser uniform. Instead, they were decked out in ninja clothes. Aaron, despite having jumped through dimensions and time periods, and having seen some incredibly strange things, was still caught off guard by them. She dropped her gun in her utter confusion. \n\nWell, it wouldn't have done anyone much good, considering she was a pretty terrible shot. Simone moved against the weight of the man on top of him, and grabbed what the cat woman had dropped. He shot at all of the ninjas, but they were a bit too quick for any of the bullets to land. They grabbed the Arnold guy, and despite his considerable muscle, he seemed powerless. \n\nHis eyes were full of fear, wide as dinner plates. His mouth was something between a snarl and a frown. Aaron picked up Simone and ran back into his room. She could hear screaming before a loud bang. The man had died. Simone sat down on his bed as Aaron locked the door. The old cat began pushing random objects in front of the door. \n\n \"Okay, so what now?\" \n\n\"What do you mean, 'what now'?! I thought you had a plan!\" \n\n\"Have I ever had a plan that was good?\"\n\n\"Fair enough.\" \n\n\"Do you think we could possibly get the machine back?\" \n\n\"I doubt it. Axel's not going to give it back after what you did.\" Aaron flinched. It hurt more than it should have to be reminded of what she'd done. \"And anyways, they probably don't want us.\"\n\n\"Well, just in case, we should probably get out of here.\"\n\n\"You're not going anywhere.\" Everything Aaron had placed down was chucked across the room.\n\n\"Oh what is it- ...now...?\" \n\nAaron and Simone both stared in disbelief. \n\nIt was the Schwarzenegger guy (Aaron and Simone could discern by the scent), but now his face was covered with some sort of helmet. It was a pyramid, with a single eye in the middle. The illuminati symbol in 3D. \"You're part of this now, and we need to kill you!\"\n\n\"Umm...\" Aaron and Simone just looked at each other. They weren't in danger, even remotely. \n\n\"We're immortals...\"\n\n\"We don't really care...\" \n\n---\n\nI just took the prompt, and decided to go in a different direction than I was originally thought. \n",
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] |
2019-08-27T10:30:31 | 2019-08-27T09:27:48 | 132 | 29 | [
{
"content": "[WP] At once, and everywhere, each living person has heard a voice in their head: \"Hey! It's me, God. I've noticed there's a lot of confusion, so I've created a website called 'Will I go to hell and why dot com'. Just write your name in the search bar. And don't forget to share, like and subscribe.\"",
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"content": "I couldn't believe what I had heard.\nI was sat on my bed, phone in hand, carelessly scrolling through social media when the voice had filled my brain.\nIt was a gentle voice, though the mockery surrounding the like, share and subscribe was not lost on me.\n\nI went to Twitter first.\nIt was crazy, my feed just keep running with people sharing their results.\nCelebrities either talking down the website as obvious nonsense, (apparently they didn't like the answer of going to hell) or praising God for his kindness and forgiving ways.\n\nI was intrigued, but not completely convinced by it. After all, I'd not believed in God for a very long time. There's a lot of things that can explain a voice in your head. On mass, admittedly, less so, but still possible.\n\nReddit was my next stop and I was not disappointed, the memes were plentiful and humorous.\n\nI looked to my cat, Toby, sleeping soundly at the end of the bed. He was so peaceful. Did I really want to risk, waking him? \nBut still, I had to know.\n\nI typed in the web address and was greeted by a white page with just a search bar in the centre.\n\nI paused. \n\"Its going to say hell\" I muttered to myself.\nI typed in my name.\nTook a deep breath and and pressed search.\n\n\"Hell\"\n\nIt had a button beneath it for the explanation.\nI clicked it.\n\n\"I tested you, and you failed, you denied me, when you should have called for me.\"\n\nTears blinked in my eyes.\n\n\"You abandoned me\" I spat.\n\nNew words appeared on the screen\n\n\"I've always been here\"\n\n\"No you haven't,\" i was shouting now, Toby ruffled his ginger fur and dashed under the bed \"You could have saved them, they weren't finished yet, but you took them, you took them away, they still had so much left to do\"\n\n\"They are safe with me, you walked away, you denied me, you failed.\" The words dug into my chest.\n\n\"Then I will go where I deserve, because you are not the God that I believed in, you are not the God I was promised\"\n\n\"Don't you see what's in front of you?\" The voice from earlier was back in my head, God was talking directly to me.\n\"This is your chance for redemption, apologise to me and you can come home, to your family, to me\"\n\n\"How vain can you be. It would be the most hollow of apology. Take your chair for me and give it to someone who believes. Get out of my head and away from me!\"\n\nSilence\n\nI sobbed for a while. Before drifting into an uneasy sleep.\n\nWhen I awoke a man, with dark hair and dark eyes, was stood in front of me.\n\n\"The name is Lucifer\" he drawled with a Southern American accent, rich as dark chocolate.\nHe offered me a long and embellished bow.\n\n\"Hi?\"\n\n\"You stood up to the big man,\" he continued, \"I like that, so I have a job for you.\"\n\n........",
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{
"content": "[WP] At once, and everywhere, each living person has heard a voice in their head: \"Hey! It's me, God. I've noticed there's a lot of confusion, so I've created a website called 'Will I go to hell and why dot com'. Just write your name in the search bar. And don't forget to share, like and subscribe.\"",
"role": "user"
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"content": "9:52am -- \"Come on, come on! Oh, you fucking bitch!\" he spewed as an off-white colored Honda Pilot with Jersey plates merged into his lane. He had been at work for not even 30 minutes before it happened.\n\nFresh single served coffee in hand, his entire office experienced the same thing -- what felt like a thunderous clap on the back of the head was followed by a seducing voice... no, nowhere inside the office but inside THEM.\n\nHe couldn't really focus all that well thanks to the mild panic attack he was induced into, but one thing was clear. A website name. Will I Go To Hell? It was a .com, that he remembered. Will I go to hell... he typed it into his work station moments after his peers did the same.\n\nAnd there it was. A list of all his sins, from the innocuous white lie to the most vile of things like... well, his wife can't find out about that. That's why he's jockstrapped to the leather seat of his car, cranking 30 over a 55, all in hopes of saving himself and his marriage.\n\nThe off-white Honda, plate titled \"8GG MU77\", reminded him of the word BIG MUFF... a juvenile thought he could not bury even while under duress. It was thoughts and impulses like this that always got him into trouble, he thought, \"Dammit! I was raised classless. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm always doing shit like this\". Only the \"dammit\" part was said aloud.\n\nHe finally found parking 2 blocks away from his city home. He didn't see his wife's car in it's normal spot, but that didn't reveal much -- she may still be home. She never really left much. He entered through the back storm door as you do when you're a cheat, and he was definitely trying to cheat something.\n\nInside was quiet. The wife was not in sight. He started slowly once inside the house, but quickly began to race through and collect every computer, laptop, tablet, or every other freaking screen in the house that he was told he would need to live comfortably. At some point he could even forget how many of these devices he owned, but not today. Today, he knew EXACTLY how many witnesses could implicate him. He wanted to hide everything he could before his wife could get access. He could get jump on what she might find if she searched his name. At least, he could get out in front of it and explain.\n\nOne trash bag and one shoe-box was all the screens were able to fill. Between what both he and his wife owned, it felt like 11 pounds. The trash bag was filled strictly with the laptops, so it was the shoe-box that held most of the quarantined items.\n\nHe thought himself successful and clever with all the screens gathered in his arms. Now he should just wait for his wife to get home. He would explain everything. He might lose his job, he could possibly be contacted by the police, but she would understand. She always did. She has to! If not, he didn't know what he would do next. He never did. He never could.",
"role": "assistant"
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] |
2019-08-27T11:40:12 | 2019-08-27T10:39:12 | 21 | 15 | [
{
"content": "[WP] At once, and everywhere, each living person has heard a voice in their head: \"Hey! It's me, God. I've noticed there's a lot of confusion, so I've created a website called 'Will I go to hell and why dot com'. Just write your name in the search bar. And don't forget to share, like and subscribe.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I had hardly entered the door after getting home from work. flicked the light switch and froze as a voice spoke out. I jumped from fright thinking someone was in my apartment. but there was no one new, it was just a voice, a calm voice. the fear sank away as I realized no one had entered my apartment unexpectedly. Now I was curious.\n\nDot C-O-M. I typed in my name, eager to see the result. that is, until I saw them.\n\nhell... HELL? ME? \n\nsure, my life wasnt perfect and I fell behind others my own age. when mother started getting sick, i dropped everything to help her. I moved in with her and did all the work, for years. And when she finally died I just didnt move on. I liked the routine, and I liked working at the gas station. Sure, she passed away five years ago and in a about 6 months it will be my 15th year working there, but doesnt my dedication mean anything? \n\nA dedicated son. for nothing. how cruel. how unfair. \n\nI slipped back into bed to comfort my mother, and tell her not to worry about that voice. IT was just being mean like the rest of them.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] At once, and everywhere, each living person has heard a voice in their head: \"Hey! It's me, God. I've noticed there's a lot of confusion, so I've created a website called 'Will I go to hell and why dot com'. Just write your name in the search bar. And don't forget to share, like and subscribe.\"",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“.. And Subscribe.”\n\n*The booming voice of God finishes its monologue over Times Square and presumably the rest of the world*\n\nThe streets erupt into panic and everyone begins to scream and sprint in a random direction\n\nShocked, I stand still absorbing all of what just happened before I’m knocked to the ground by some fella. This snaps me back to my senses as I stand up and immediately try and load up the website.\n\n“GOD F**KING DAMNITTTTT”\n\nWith almost every single AT&T user loading up their browser and hitting search at the same damn time, nothing would load.\n\nI keep the page loading as I make my way back home, dodging all the chaos of traffic and hordes of people trying to get to a stable internet connection. \n\nAbout 2 blocks away from my house, I notice my screen loaded but only halfway down the page.\n\nAll I can see is that the page was red.\nYknow red, the universal color of God..\n\nNervous, I hurry upstairs and swing open my apartment door.\n\nUpon entry to my home, \n*BANG*\nI am executed by a silenced pistol.\n\nGod’s website listed me as synonymous with the devil and my murder, if done with a sound heart, was a surefire way into heaven. \n\nI am the most evil person to have ever lived, and God finally bested me.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-09-10T20:06:43 | 2019-09-10T19:28:10 | 132 | 25 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You find an antique gold compass with the words ”Moral Compass”. It will automatically point to the most morally good person within a 100 meter radius. You are on jury one day and when you look at the compass, it points to the convicted serial killer.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I can’t disclose where and how I found it for reasons I also can’t reveal. All I could reveal is how it works. I pull it out and I watch it point to the person who it deems the most morally good. By what standards, I don’t know. All I know is that it works. I’ve met my lovely husband, whom I am eternally grateful for. I have the best set of friends anyone could ever wish for. That and many more wonderful things I found by following where my compass leads me. Overtime, it became a part of me. It became my judgement, my ideal. And so, I was happy to have learned that I was being summoned for jury duty. For so long, I’ve only used my compass for myself, I was elated to finally use it for the greater good. \n&nbsp;\n\nThe day of my duty came, I surveyed the area and pulled out my compass. It pointed to the accused. I was determined to defend her at any cost. I listened carefully, committing to memory whatever I could use to clean her name. Evidences were presented, and a strong case was built against the accused. I gave the jurors my piece, deftly conveyed my arguments to defend the accused but to no avail. I came home defeated. I pulled out my compass before I went to sleep and was relieved to see it pointing to me. I kissed my husband good night. I went to bed hopeful for the next morning. I knew I was doing something right.\n&nbsp;\n\nSecond day of my duty came, I surveyed the area and pulled out my compass. It pointed to the accused. Everything seemed like a replay of the prior day. The day ended with a stronger case against the accused. I knew I had to do something. One of the jurors was someone I knew from the church, an influential figure. I invited her for coffee and presented her with my case. I felt good about myself, I was doing something right, I thought. I went home feeling slightly victorious. I pulled out my compass before I went to sleep, and it pointed to my husband. \n&nbsp;\n\nThird day of my duty came, I surveyed the area and attempted to pull out my compass when someone called out my name. I was asked to leave the room. I looked behind and scanned for the church lady as I was being ushered out; our eyes met but she quickly averted her gaze. Outside, I waited for an explanation when suddenly a loud cry erupted from the room:\n&nbsp;\n\n“Please have mercy on me! I am pregnant! Please, please don’t do this to me!”.\n&nbsp;\n\nI pulled out my compass. It was pointing towards the room.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You find an antique gold compass with the words ”Moral Compass”. It will automatically point to the most morally good person within a 100 meter radius. You are on jury one day and when you look at the compass, it points to the convicted serial killer.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "It's broken. It must be . It was the only logical explanation. Occam's Razor and all that. I mean, I'm not entirely sure *why* it broke, but it did. And it couldn't have picked a worse time to break either. I mean, during the trial of a serial killer.. really? It was right about so much before. It helped me pick a babysitter. And it helped me climb my way up the corporate ladder. It helped me find a wife. You'd be surprised how much a literal \"moral compass\" could be. But now it was pointing directly at the seriel killer. Was I really supposed to believe that SHE was the most morally good person in the room? Was it lying? Could it lie? No, it would never lie to me. Maybe I banged it? I don't remember banging it. I'm usually so careful with it. Well, they say nothing lasts forever. I guess I might as well throw it out when I get out of here. Should probably destroy it first actually. Wouldn't want it messing with anyone else would I? But could I destroy it? I had come to rely on it so much. Too much? Well ,no more than anyone else would were they in my shoes. But it wasn't anyone else's, was it. It was mine. I used it well I think. I mean better than most people would. I could have gotten into a lot more trouble with it now that I think about it. That's probably why it chose me to find it. It knew I *deserved* it. I mean who else could have handled to much responsibility? Surely, not Karen. Not Dave, either that bastard. Never should have told either of them about it. They didn't deserve to know. No, I was the only one who deserved it. But, why then, did it never point to me? Not once. Maybe it didn't work that way. Never pointed to it's rightful owner or something like that. Yeah, that must be it. But it's pointing right at that killer. All the evidence said she was guilty. But she couldn't be. It told me she wasn't. It was never wrong. It couldn't be broken. The evidence must be broken. The lawyers, the cops, the judge. Broken. All broken. Everything broken except it and I. We weren't broken. We were never broken. It was perfect. We were perfect. And she was innocent. Not perfect but innocent.\n\n\"Innocent!,\" I yelled. \"Not...Not Perfect of course. But Innocent!\"\n\nThey all looked at me. Stared. They didn't believe me. They didn't believe it. Broken, them. Not us. them. She was innocent. It was mine. Mine. Deserve it. Innocent, it said. I was innocent.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2019-11-30T06:46:07 | 2019-11-30T05:33:37 | 1,100 | 51 | [
{
"content": "[WP] In Japan you are number 1 heart surgeon, steady hand. One day Yakuza boss needs new heart, you do the operation but mistake! Yakuza boss die, Yakuza very mad, you hid in a fishing boat and come to America, no English, money or food, a Warehouse manager Darryl takes you under his wing",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "In Japan, heart surgeon number one. Steady hand. One day, yakuza boss need new heart. I do operation. But mistake! Yakuza boss die! Yakuza very mad! I hide fishing boat, come to America. No English, no food, no money. Darryl give me job. Now I have house, American car and new woman. Darryl save life. My big secret? I kill yakuza boss on purpose. I good surgeon. The best!\n\nAt least, that official story. Please forgive grammar. Still new to English. \n\nMy bigger secret? I still do surgery for criminal. Not just heart surgery. Heart surgery is hard surgery. Other surgery easy. Except brain surgery. I no do brain surgery. \n\nOne day, man come to me and say he need surgery on hand. He say he tear muscle working out. I examine. Hands strong, body weak. He do not exercise right. I tell him. He get very mad! Demand I fix hand that night. I tell him no problem. \n\nThat night, I go to house. Pictures on wall. Pictures of women. I recognize from news. Women killed by Strangler. I fix hand, then I call police. Tell them man's name is a George Howard Scubb.\n\nNext day, police chase man. Chase goes by office. Stupid Michael go outside and collect gravel from road to sell to collector. I sell pint of Strangler blood to collector. Going to pretend to win lottery with coworkers. Maybe invest in energy drink.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] In Japan you are number 1 heart surgeon, steady hand. One day Yakuza boss needs new heart, you do the operation but mistake! Yakuza boss die, Yakuza very mad, you hid in a fishing boat and come to America, no English, money or food, a Warehouse manager Darryl takes you under his wing",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Everyone said it was an accident, when my nephew died, but I knew it wasn’t. I had spent so much time with my sister watching her cry as my nephew made bad choices and it had finally caught up to him. \n\nBut what could I do? I was just a normal guy. I couldn’t go out and take my revenge on a mob boss. I wouldn’t even know where to find him at. But one day I was brought to him. \n\nI thought I was going to die that day. Some thugs picked me up off the street after a long shift. I tried to scream but one of them jammed a gun right into my head and said, “If you scream you die.” \n\nThey took me to makeshift surgery room in a warehouse. I was surprised that they actually had all the tools that I needed. I recognized his face at once. The news was always running his picture in the hopes that someone would call with a lead. \n\n“He needs a new stent,” another guy said. “His doc told us so. He also said you can do it so get to it.” I nodded silently. I could do this but if I did it right he would never wake up. \n\nAfter many hours they let me go. I told them that he would sleep for a while but I knew I only have a little time to get away. I ran to my house, changed grabbed a bag with the bare minimum and went to the docks. \n\nI paced back and forth trying to decide which boat would be best. Trying to decide I heard voices coming. With no more time I jumped in one and hid praying that I had made the right choice.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-01-14T00:05:59 | 2020-01-14T00:02:18 | 206 | 43 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a minor supervillain. Your antics aren't illegal, but they're quite devastating to the local hero population. You replace the flimsy fruit stands that are frequently destroyed in car chases throughout the city with nearly indestructible replicas.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"Hello, this is Hero Insurance. How can I help you.\"\n\n\"Quick, you have to help me. They're getting closer! That one guy is firing frickin' laser beams.\"\n\n\"Alright ma'am, stay calm. We'll get through this. Please state the serial number. It's in the middle of the cart.\"\n\n\"Just a sec. Where is it! Oh, here, under the T-shirts. Err. It's 13 A 7 K 5301.\"\n\n\"Thank you ma'am,\" I said as I typed in the data quickly. \"Elise Cartwright, clothing vendor, gold member. Hold on one second Elise.\"\n\nI teleported to the warehouse to have a quick look. I arrived on the second floor, isle 13. These were the market stalls. Ah, A7, generic clothing market stall. Perfect.\n\n\"Elise, stand back at least three feet.\" I said urgently in my headset. \"I'm almost there.\"\n\n\"Okay, but hurry. They just smashed into a building across the market!!\"\n\nI blocked out the customer for a moment. This needed concentration. With my hand on the cart, I searched for the right location. There was a sympathetic resonation in the aether between the market stalls, but it was still tricky. After two seconds I found it and I activated my power. Elise's stall teleported to the warehouse, while my replacement stall took it's place in the market.\n\nElise looked relieved as I teleported in together with the replacement stall. Just a second later, the so called hero's laser beams hit the stall. Typically they never look at what they hit if they miss the villains. But this time the beam reflected back, hitting the hero right in the private parts. Those clothes on my cart were actually flimsy dressing over highly reflective alloy.\n\nThe villainess capitalized on this and launched a superspeed attack. The hero collapsed right on time from the pain of his self inflicted burning of the family jewels, so she missed and slammed right into my stall. That stall was of course reinforced high grade steal beams weighted down with liberal amounts of high density concrete.\n\nShe was out for the count. That took care of the fighting. The other market vendors cheered loudly and the police arrived.\n\nIt took some time before I could teleport home with the decoy stall, but it was a good day. I earned plenty of tips and even had a few new customers for Hero Insurance.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You are a minor supervillain. Your antics aren't illegal, but they're quite devastating to the local hero population. You replace the flimsy fruit stands that are frequently destroyed in car chases throughout the city with nearly indestructible replicas.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "The screams of people in the downtown of Serenity Falls can be heard loudly. People are running wild from the notorious villain Amen Mai Sun who is firing guns blazing down Safety Street. His aimless shooting absolutely taking no victims, but instilling fear in those civilians by having no desire to being the first person Amen Mai Sun has ever killed. \n\nHowever in the distance, the sounds of a 6th grade symphony can be heard which ONLY MEANS that POWERUPMAN is arriving to the scene. The civilians keep running for their lives not stopping for nothing but the thickest of shelters like the titanium food truck about 5 blocks away near St. Tanic Hospital. \n\nIt takes over 30 minutes of 6th grade Trumpet fanfares and levitation before Amen Mai Sun realizes POWERUPMAN has arrived on the scene. \n\n\"POWERUPMAN. How great of you to join me. I never thought it would take you so long to ge...\"\n\n\"Amen. Ive been floating here for 30 minutes.\" POWERUPMAN harshly interjects.\n\n\"Well, THAT'LL BE THE LAST 30 MINUTES YOULL EVER FLOAT...?!\" Amen Mai Sun shouts before unloading his aimless nature towards POWERUPMAN. In a stroke of luck, Amen Mai Sun actually hits POWERUPMAN sending him flying backwards into a fruit stand However, it doesn't break. POWERUPMAN realizing that this fruit stand > plot armor, he picks it up and throws it towards AMEN MAI SUN with all of his might. Amen tries his hardest to dodge away, but is unable to because the good guys always win. The fruit stand hits Amen Mai Sun and completely eviscerates his body leaving nothing but a grocery list of 3 lemons and 2 sugar. \n\nThe town people emerge outta everything: bushes, corners, potholes, stores, and behind POWERUPMAN to see if they were finally safe. They saw Amen Mai Sun was gone and did the only right course of action. They charge POWERUPMAN with felonies that'll send his ass straight to prison.\n\nPOWERUPMAN screams at the populace \"WHY?! I SAVES ALL OF YOU.\"\n\nBut, a small boy comes up and says, \"You killed more people than that man ever had motherfucka. And, murder is a felony. So you going to prison and hell, first class.\"\n\n------\n[Sounds of a TV turns off]\n\n\"And, that is how I became a minor supervillain! I made all of you murderers!\" I say giddily into a room of all the superheroes I locked up. *Goodbye now*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-04-17T11:47:23 | 2020-04-17T10:18:20 | 106 | 64 | [
{
"content": "[WP]Time travel is possible, but requires an \"anchor\" item created in the target era. You've gone to the year 900 using a Viking sword and the year 300 using a Roman Coin. You've just started the process using a small statue of unknown origin and it proves to be vastly older than human history.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "For a base with a time machine, ours sure does look weird. Over by the side you've got a 3D printer, and right next to it you've got a whole assortment of coins, swords, guns and other historical artefacts that we've mainly been able to buy off of eBay and the occasional, uhh, *donation* from the British Museum. That's because of time travel's fundamental core principals.\n\nWhenever you want to time travel, you need to go into the weird big tube thing in the middle, with two things. Firstly, you need to have a trinket printed with the 3D printer –this is very important – and you need something else with you. This is because of the core principal of time travel. Whenever you time travel, you go to the time and place where the item you have was made: in time travel circles we call this an \"anchor\" item. Which is why the 3D printer is necessary: without it there's no way you could get back to the present. Even if you brought your phone with you, you'd end up in a factory somewhere in China a couple years before your present if you used that as the \"anchor\" item (trust me: I've been there. It was a miracle that my friends were able to scour social media to find me *and* use local trinkets to reach my time, but that's a story for another time).\n\nAfter the phone debacle, I worked with my historian friends to pinpoint some astounding historical events: did you know that the Roanoke colony was kidnapped by aliens? When we aren't uncovering groundbreaking historical facts, we're probably somewhere in time gawking at pivotal battles or other groundbreaking events with footage that would win us the Nobel prize if the Nobel prize could award people for historical achievements. A common haunt of ours is the first performance of Beethoven's 9th Symphony in Vienna for the simple fact it's *beautiful*. I'd show you but you don't have the qualifications for that and it's really expensive to run these machines.\n\nAnyways, one day our team managed to get a weird statue in the New-York Historical Society and got it across the Atlantic. They said nobody really knew when it was made because the carbon dating machines always malfunctioned while trying to carbon date it or something, so they decided to put it through the time tube and find out where it got. We printed some trinkets, got into the tube with the statue and got out the other side.\n\nThe first thing we noticed was that everything was really light for some reason – way more than usual. The second thing was that there were nothing around, just some weird robots (I think?) and a factory that looked like it was centuries ahead of our technology.\n\nI walked over to one of the robots and for some reason I don't quite know, I decided to ask it \"When are we?\" in English. Yeah. In a language that almost certainly didn't exist at the time, but what are you going to do? I mean thank God for the universal translator machines we invented because otherwise I have no idea how I could remain sane while learning forty ancient languages fluently, but this is the first –and currently only – time I haven't used the universal translator to anything outside of my team and places and times where and when modern English was spoken.\n\n\"Ah, so you've discovered time travel haven't you?\", the robot replied in fluent French. \"I know this is going to be a bit tricky for you to understand, but it's currently 4 million BC. Yes, your BC. And we're on the Moon.\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]Time travel is possible, but requires an \"anchor\" item created in the target era. You've gone to the year 900 using a Viking sword and the year 300 using a Roman Coin. You've just started the process using a small statue of unknown origin and it proves to be vastly older than human history.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "''Alpha-Zero are you with me?''\n\nI can’t see anything. \n\n''FUCK! I just stepped on a giant...something.'' He yells on the radio.\n\n''Why our night-vision isn’t working, Clarkson?'' I ask.\n\n''We just got here, how the hell I’m supposed to know?'' \n\n''I know that you just got transferred Clarkson but this is not how you talk to your superior. Alpha-Zero going to re-ignite electro panels.'' \n\n''Go ahead, Alpha-Zero. I will be here with Clarkson.'' I say.\n\n''Here where exactly? I have no idea where you are.'' \n\nI decide to ignore the Clarkson for a moment, he seems anxious due to our unknown surrounding.\n\n''Alpha-Zero, what is the update on the panels?''\n\nThere is no answer.\n\n''Temperature dropping fast. We are at minus 45 Celcius, we were at minus 5 when we arrived.'' Clarkson reports.\n\n''Then we should be grateful that we have these suits, right? Where is Alpha-Zero at? Alpha-Zero report!''\n\n''I’m here captain. My radio stopped working for a moment.''\n\n''Care to update me about the lights?'' \n\n''Uhm...They are gone.'' \n\n''What you mean they are gone?'' I ask.\n\n''I can’t spot them. When we entered this time-line I stored our anchor so we could safely go back to our time and placed the panels right next to the storage. Both anchor and panels are gone.''\n\n''Can you scan our panel, Clarkson?''\n\nClarkson doesn’t respond.\n\n''Clarkson come in!''\n\n''Should I engage code-552, sir?''\n\n''Go ahead, Alpha-Zero. I had enough we are at red alert from now on.''\n\n''Alpha-Zero activating drone number 1 and drone number 2 for code-552.''\n\nEach drone goes in the opposite direction and they scan terrain to inform us about this area. \n\n''Drone 1 initial report came in, sir.''\n\n''I’m listening.''\n\n''Drone 1 reads two life signs. 250 meters of distance between signs. No viable atmosphere, the temperature at minus 60. Low radiation reading and...''\n\n''And?''\n\n''Drone 2 lost contact with me which was going to my direction. \nDrone 1 still searching.''\n\n''I want you to use your echo-locator. Signal towards where we lost Drone 2.''\n\n''Roger that! Sir?''\n\n''Yes?'' \n\n''I’m hearing a strange noise coming from my right side.''\n\n''Which wasn’t the where the Drone 2 gone dark, right?''\n\n''Yes, sir. It wasn’t going that direction. Maybe it’s Clarkson.''\n\n''You said it yourself. Drone 1 only read two life signs.''\n\n''Unless he went dark for a reason, sir.''\n\n''What reason that would be?''\n\nThere is no response.\n\n''Alpha-Zero, come in! Are you there?''\n\nI access to Drone 1. I use it to navigate my way. I start to walk towards Alpha-Zero. I walk very slowly and cautiously because the ground feels strange. It’s almost like I’m walking on something alive. I hear some sort of mumbling on the radio. I stop walking. I use drone 1 to circle on the area and see if it picks something. I lower the flying altitude and a few seconds later it starts to read movement on the ground but it doesn’t present any life sign. It’s coming towards my direction.\n\n-----------------------------------\n\n-Thank you for reading the story-\n\n*Just FYI, I'm not a native speaker so, if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes please don't mind it.*",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-04-17T11:30:33 | 2020-04-17T10:49:10 | 97 | 64 | [
{
"content": "[WP]Time travel is possible, but requires an \"anchor\" item created in the target era. You've gone to the year 900 using a Viking sword and the year 300 using a Roman Coin. You've just started the process using a small statue of unknown origin and it proves to be vastly older than human history.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "I held the statue in my hands, the weight and feel of it was very odd. the statue didnt resemble anything remotely human, i was worried about where it would take me...but i knew i had to satisfy my curiosity.\n\ni grasped the statue tightly to begin the time travel process, my body atomized and i began warping far beyond what i considered \"human\" history.\n\nwhere i ended up was...a place that didnt even resemble earth. my time travel powers did not move me through space so i couldnt have been anywhere else but earth.\n\n\nthen i saw \"them\". their appearances closely resembled that of the statue that brought me here. they approached me and i was terrified, but they told me, \"hello. we are the architects and we have chosen YOU to be the template for this new species we're going to create!\"\n\n\nsuddenly...everything was clear.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP]Time travel is possible, but requires an \"anchor\" item created in the target era. You've gone to the year 900 using a Viking sword and the year 300 using a Roman Coin. You've just started the process using a small statue of unknown origin and it proves to be vastly older than human history.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Time traveling was a hobby. I had done it twice before, and I was going to do it once again. The problem with the whole thing was usually finding an anchor object. I had to steal one last time. This beautiful roman coin. I still have it. Its a great little memoir. This time I was lucky. It was this quaint little statue of some sort of deity. It intrigued me. It was in a pawn shop so clearly, I bought it. I took it back to my garage, where I kept my time machine. I got inside, turned on the safety lock and commenced the program. Then as usual, to protect the mind, I blacked out. When I came to, I looked out the window. There was only space. I was supposed to be in New Jersey. I saw shadow. It blocked out the sun and the stars. It said \"they can never know\". It then disintegrated the statue. I was stuck. The shadow laughed. \"You are the blueprint\" is what it said.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-04-30T14:06:59 | 2020-04-30T12:46:54 | 2,987 | 189 | [
{
"content": "[WP] You sang to your plants to help them grow. Now, as you are on your deathbed, you hear faint whispers coming from the trees.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\\[Poem\\]\n\n*Singing man, it's time to sleep.*\n\n*Singing man, let yourself free,*\n\n*As man and fish and plant will be,*\n\n*in death we find all we seek.*\n\n*You gave us song*\n\n*while days went on*\n\n*we listened, growing*\n\n*great and strong.*\n\n*Now we sing,*\n\n*as you grow weak,*\n\n*with loving rustling*\n\n*lonely leaves.*\n\n*The end is kind,*\n\n*The end is nigh,*\n\n*Singing man,*\n\n*Please, rest in peace.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit: Thank you all for your incredibly kind words. As someone who struggles in taking compliments, it is overwhelming to read your words in the best possible way. I want thank each of you personally in the morning, as right now, I'm without words (it's taken me about 30 minutes alone to write). So thank you again, you've made my week.\n\nEdit2: Thank you for making my morning even better than you made my night. I am elated. You're all amazing. And thank you to the anonymous gilder who left extremely kind words in their message.",
"role": "assistant"
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] You sang to your plants to help them grow. Now, as you are on your deathbed, you hear faint whispers coming from the trees.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": " All my life, I sang to my plants. Others in my family scoffed, but I thought it made them happy. Indoor plants, outdoor plants, even once in the woods when I was by myself, I sang.\n\nMy life was good. Love, family, purpose were all mine. I knew that it would be soon. I asked my children to leave the window open tonight, so I could feel the breeze. I overheard the brief argument in the hallway, but eventually my eldest said, “Well, it’s not like he’s going to die any slower if we don’t.” They left the window open.\n\nI was nearly asleep when I heard it. I heard the whispering in the trees, but it sounded different this time. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn’t hear it clearer. Then I relaxed and enjoyed. That is when I heard it.\n\nI heard my songs echoing back to me. I could hear the plants as they sang to me a final goodbye. And not just the ones I owned, oh no. Their children sang to me, too; their tiny voices producing such harmony with my lifelong friends.\n\nI felt my pain ease and my breath slow. Soon, I was singing along with them, though my body was not. I sang my goodbye to the living and made my off to see the rest of my loved ones in the land of the dead.",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-07-17T08:58:53 | 2020-07-17T06:24:22 | 40 | 10 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Monster numbers have been falling fast in the last few years, and a group of werewolves are trying to convince you to become a werewolf(it’s illegal to do it without a person’s signed consent). They’re incredibly desperate.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "Yes, when you sign up to join the Moon Clan, you get access to all the clan's exclusive amenities in the mountains, supernatural strength and senses ^(and) ^(an) ^(aversion) ^(to) ^(silver), and a support system to help you through all your lycanthropy woes!\n\nYes, now please just sign here... no? Sign up for our mailing list at least? You'll keep updated on all our special events and- no? Okay, no problem, you can just follow us on Twitter and Insta. Please? Maybe take a brochure? A mint? Come oooonnnnnnn.\n\n*Whine.* I wish we were more like the Claw Clan. More hot girls. That would make this so much easier. Or, failing that, I wish I were representing something normal like, I dunno, the robotics club, or the anime fan club, or the drama club or something.\n\nWhy do I even have to do this stupid clubs fair, anyway? Nothing screams 'loser' more than repping some dying, obscure relic of a clan that lives out in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention werewolves aren't exactly... 'in' right now. Vampires; vampires are where it's at. *Grrrr* those stupid fang freaks. So smug, and arrogant, and prissy and all like, 'look at me, I'm so popular with girls, nyah nyah nyah, bleh bleh bleh'. I wish I could punch that stupid Vlad in his stupid face and...\n\nOh wow a person, hello how are you- A G-G-G-GIRL! A GIRL! I'M TALKING TO A GIRL! A pretty one! Ahh! AAAAHHHH! What am I supposed to do?! Girls never want to talk to me!\n\nOkay, okay, pull it together, breathe. She told you her name, now you just have to say something normal. \n\nUh, Hi Allie, I'm Lonely. Wait, no no no no! I'm trying to tell you my name! I'm not Lonely. I mean, I am lonely over here... wait, not that way! Oh man that came out creepy! I mean, I'm lonely because it's slow and boring over here. Okay, let's start over. I'm Creepy and you're Pretty, right?\n\nAGGH ABORT ABORT!\n\n(Updated with part 2 of the trainwreck)",
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{
"content": "[WP] Monster numbers have been falling fast in the last few years, and a group of werewolves are trying to convince you to become a werewolf(it’s illegal to do it without a person’s signed consent). They’re incredibly desperate.",
"role": "user"
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{
"content": "Renphy barred his fangs at the furry, hind legs ready to pounce. This was the third time that his den had been invaded by role-playing furrys who wanted to behave like the animals. “Leave this place,” snarled Renphy. “we have no need for people like you.” \n\nThe person in the furry suit yelped, shocked that the wolf could speak. A muffled voice came from the suit. “I’m awfully sorry Mr. Wolf, I did not not mean to intrude upon your domain.”\n\nRenphy flattened his ears in surprise. A female furry, that was certainly a rarity in these parts of the woods. And that scent, it smelled like strawberries and cream, heavenly. Hold on, if he could smell such a thing then that would mean that-\n\n“Hello beautiful,” Remus sprang from his den and stopped right in-front of the female. “It’s good to see a fellow furry around these parts.” \n\nThe female was clearly taken aback, “Oh, wow. Hello there too.” \n\n“Hey Renphy, look at her, can we keep her?” \n\nRenphy rolled his eyes. “No. If we do, the authorities will be onto us like bloodhound.”\n\n“Ah yes, our nasally challenged cousins. Remus, wanting to get a better look at the female, stood on his hind legs. “I love your outfit, the eyes especially. They are the best I've seen compared to others.”\n\nThe female bowed her head in embarrassment. “Thank you,” she stammered out. \n\nA deep guttural growl rose up from Remus, causing the female to shrink back before she realized that he was laughing. “Hey sister, do you want to become a wolf?” Remus asked. \n\n“No I don't think so.” \n\n“Think about it, you can shed your suit and with a little bite from me, you too can become what we are.” \n\n“And what is that?”\n\n“Werewolves.” Remus replied with a grin. \n\nThe female was silent for a moment before shaking her head. “I'm afraid that I will not be accepting your offer.” \n\n“And why is that? I hardly think that the suit your wearing can match up to real hide and fangs.”\n\n“It may not, but my suit is special because it is how I want to be seen by others. I become the goddess Bast when I sew my suit together. To give that up, to shed it for real hide and fangs,” The female shook her head. “I don't think it’s worth it.”",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2020-08-02T08:36:10 | 2020-08-02T08:23:13 | 2,103 | 165 | [
{
"content": "[WP] It's been 50 years since the rich elites left to escape an alien invasion. The good news: the aliens are friendly. The bad news: nobody wants them back.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "\"There must be some agreement we can come to, or perhaps a compromise?\" The man on the screen looked desperate\n\n\"The answer is no. Thats final. Now please, stay off this channel. This channel is for official use only.\"\n\n\"Wait, hold o-\"\n\nJack didn't let the man finish before he disconnected them. It wasn't too long before they tried to contact the station again. He opened the channel again.\n\n\"Listen, uh, Jack? Right?\"\n\n\"Yes, Major Jack Cawthorn of the United Nations of Earth. This is your final warning, do not contact this channel again or we will be forced to take action.\"\n\n\"Never mind that, I've been talking to a few of my friends, and they tell me that they're willing to give you anything you desire.\"\n\n\"...Go on.\" Jack was hesitant, but interested.\n\n\"I have very powerful friends aboard this ship, some of whom may be useful to you. You want power? There's a few politicians who could help. Money? We have some very rich businessmen aboard as well. Now if you're looking for women, or perhaps a male friend, I'm sure I could make some calls.\"\n\n\"Sounds tempting. But what makes you think Earth will want you back?\"\n\n\"Well of course they'd want us back. After all, we are their leaders. I'm sure things have been disasterous since we've been gone.\"\n\nJack was silent. His rage was building up, but he kept a steady mind.\n\n\"You're absolutely right. With most of the resources on Earth squandered to help build your ship and to maintain it, we have been living in squalor since you've left. We do need someone to put us back on track.\"\n\n\"Then I assume we have an agreement?\"\n\nJack smiled. \"Of course. Docking ring U-7 will be cleared for your arrival. We look forward to your return.\" \n\nThe man smiled and sighed before Jack disconnected him from the channel. Almost immediately, Jack opened a channel to Station Command.\n\n\"Station Command, we have a group of pirates a few kilometers from our port side, open fire.\"\n\nJack turned towards the window where he saw the ship burst into a firey inferno. What he did was basically murder, but it would be a secret he would take to the grave. After all, as far as anyone knows, they were indeed, pirates.\n\n\n\nedit: ARRIVAL not departure and few word changes",
"role": "assistant"
}
] | [
{
"content": "[WP] It's been 50 years since the rich elites left to escape an alien invasion. The good news: the aliens are friendly. The bad news: nobody wants them back.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "**\\*NOTE: I was unsure who them is referring to so I am going to say them = rich elites\\*'**\n\n\"Dic...\"\n\n\"FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME, my name is His Highness RICHARD BEZOGATES the FIFTH\"\n\n\"*sigh...*Ok....Richard. So tell me, Richard \\*coughs\\* *dick* \\*coughs\\* why are you contacting us after fifty years. I thought us poor Earth scum were too disgusting for you\", I questioned him.\n\n\"President Armendola that is not why...\"\n\n\"Oh so now you call me by my proper title? So what, you do not want to call me dirt king huh\"\n\n\"Harryyyyyyy, the past is the past my friend. If we keep thinking about the past, how will we ever live in the present,\" he smiles with that comically large and fake grin of his.\n\n\"No Richard. You want us to forget the past. But you and all you Ringers ache for the past while you reside on your orbital ring around Mars. You...All of you long for the day when you can control us.. the day when you can subdue us again...the time when you can be the powerful ones again. After all, isn't societal order important to all of you. We Earth scum have to learn our place. But guess what asswipe? We have the power now. I, President Armendola of the United Countries of the Earth have the power now.\"\n\n\"Harry. Come on. We just want to come to Earth and talk,\" Richard said diplomatically.\n\n\"NO. Do not give me that bullshit again. Return to the earth my ass. All of you were so eager to part with your billions to construct a luxury spaceship when we first saw the fleet of the aliens. By the way, the aliens have a name. They are called Krons. You guys never wanted to help anyone but would easily stuff your own pockets. Oh an entire nation lacks food? Nah, I can't be concerned, I want to buy a new island. Now that you guys know how good the Krons have been and how they have helped us, you want to come back?\"\n\n\"Harry. It's not that.\" he said weakly.\n\n\"Well then, what is it?\" I questioned.\n\n\"Harry... We are being attacked. We cannot stop it. Nor can you alone. Even us Earthlings and Ringers together cannot fight back. We need the Krons help. Otherwise all of us....and I mean ALL OF US will perish\"",
"role": "assistant"
}
] |
2021-03-17T12:27:35 | 2021-03-17T11:48:00 | 37 | 27 | [
{
"content": "[WP] Most demonologists are in constant peril of their summons backfiring horribly with gruesome deaths being a common result when a demon slips their leash. Yet despite not using any bindings at all, you've never had such problems.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": "“They don’t like you,” Buiizle chirped, his high-pitched but raspy voice grating against the air like glitter-strewn sandpaper.\n\nMy eyes swiveled over to the winged and horned imp sitting on my shoulder. “They don’t like *you*, Buiizle. And because I’m with you, they don’t like me,” I snapped at him with a grin, though my grin faltered as the number of people frowning and grimacing at me continued to rise; the sight of an *unchained* familiar normally spelled death and destruction in the eyes of my collegiate classmates, much less on the shoulder of a kid who should have been a sophomore in High School, but they’d have to get used to it. …Or I would.\n\n“Fine. They don’t like *us,*” Buiizle conceded.\n\n“But it’s your fault,” I pointed out.\n\nThe imp rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who summoned me, numb-nuts.”\n\nI opened my mouth to continue the snarky exchange, but a loud, tolling bell interrupted me. My mouth twisted in displeasure at the dull, droning noise which meant I would be late to class. “Hey, can you open a-” I started, speaking over the bell, but the Imp cut me off.\n\n“I swear Jamie, if you ask me to open a portal to your seat I’ll curse your breath to smell like onions for the next three days,” Buiizle snapped.\n\n“Hey! I haven’t mastered that Art yet! I mean, I can do it if you really want to end up stranded in the Pale Zone for two weeks… again,” I threatened him, though a trip to the Pale Zone was far more inconvenient for me than it was for him.\n\n“Ugh, screw that. Fine. But you owe me a rabbit for dinner. *And* we’re practicing opening portals over the weekend until you can cast that art without getting stuck between locations,” the Imp demanded.\n\n“Deal. Now hurry up, we only have like, three more bell tolls before I’m late.”\n\nBuiizle lifted his arms and waved them purposefully, weaving together a spell. With a couple of grunts and a hiss in his native abyssal language, an arcane portal burst into existence before me, the outline rimmed in golden flames. Several of the other students around me staggered back from the noise and burst of light, some even making audible gasps or shrieks, but I paid them no mind as I stepped through.\n\n“Boy, we sure are great at laying low, huh,” Buiizle commented as I found myself standing behind my chair in the lecture hall. My classmates stared daggers at me.\n\nThe professor spoke up from the front of the room. ”Christ, Jamie, I thought we were about to be nuked. I told you to stop doing that.”\n\n“Sorry Teach, is was that or be late,” I offered as a weak apology. The portal closed behind me as I pulled my seat out and lowered myself into it. The professor shook his head but said no more.\n\nAs I retrieved my note book from my backpack, I noticed the girl next to me regarding me curiously through her thick, foggy glasses; the one person who didn’t seem to hate or be afraid of me. The Imp on my shoulder hopped down to the desk and waved to her. “Good morning Liz!”\n\n“Good morning Buiizle!” she responded happily, but I knew she’d keep looking my way until I greeted her as well.\n\n“Liz,” I said with a slight nod, refusing to make eye contact.\n\n“Well, aren’t you charming as ever,” she replied. I shrugged, and she continued. “So. How did you get Buiizle here to follow you around without a contract?” she asked, same as she did every other day.\n\n“I’ll tell you that when *you* tell me how you can use magic without the help of a demon,” I told her, same as always.\n\nBuiizle hopped a little closer to her and covered his mouth with his hand, sneering as he spoke. “He asked nicely,” the Imp whispered to her.\n\nLiz rolled her eyes and sighed, but returned to her attention to the front of the class. I scowled at Buiizle, but couldn’t voice my frustration with him lest I give away that, indeed, I had simply asked him nicely.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nr/TheCornerStories",
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] | [
{
"content": "[WP] Most demonologists are in constant peril of their summons backfiring horribly with gruesome deaths being a common result when a demon slips their leash. Yet despite not using any bindings at all, you've never had such problems.",
"role": "user"
},
{
"content": " \n\n“What is your secret?” Rina asks. She thinks it’s subtle, the way she leans onto my desk with her hands coming together, framing the ‘V’ of her sweater vest. \n\n“No secret,” I lie. “Only discipline and practice.” \n\nShe laughs, her head tossed back. Every action is rehearsed, deliberate. Her neck is long and lovely, and when she stops laughing she catches my stare and smiles. The fact that she’s prepared for this does not make it any less enchanting. \n\n“You cannot expect me to believe that,” she says, sitting in the chair opposite my desk, leaning on one of the armrests with her legs swinging free over the other. It’s unconventional, but that isRina. “I understand that you’re the best and most intelligent here, Dante. But the rest of us are not idiots. We have our suspicions.” \n\n“You are free to have them,” I tell her, picking up my files and stepping out of my personal office. It was wrong of the secretary to letRina in. She stands against the wall outside my office as I lock the door. \n\n“Dinner?” she asks. \n\n“Dating within the demonology department is against the rules,” I tell her, although I’m sure she knows this already. \n\nShe leans forward and picks a piece of lint off my jacket. \n\n“No risk, no reward, Dante,” she tells me, before planting a kiss on my jaw. \n\n\\* \\* \\*\n\nThe fight is more intense than I thought when I heard about the uprising of the necromancers. It was a wrong decision to have only two demonologists assigned to the task. \n\n“Thar!” I yell to my demon. She’s a massive block of animated stone, but she is only one against thousands of undead. They have retained enough intelligence to know to throw projectiles and brandish sticks and spears. \n\n“Go volcanic!” I tell her, and she complies. The cracks between the individual boulders of her body glow red, and red pads of heat appear on her hands. The undead now approach her more cautiously. She sweeps her arm across the clearing we are fighting in, and charred bodies are left behind. \n\nLina’s own demon is flying above, shooting razor sharp shards of ice down onto our enemies. She is fighting as well, armed with a spear and shield. I wish I shared her skill for hand-to-hand combat, but we each have our own strengths. \n\nFor now, I’m safe from the undead, on top of one of the stronger branches of a tree on the edge of the clearing. I doubt they can even see me. They thinkRina’s the only demonologist here, and unfortunately, it’s made her a target. \n\nI spot a dark cloaked figure not fifteen feet away from her, and I yell for Thar to stop him. \n\nThar succeeds. The necromancer is now a pile of molten flesh within Thar’s grip, but Thar falls to the ground seconds after, clutching her arm in pain. The undead retreat to their graves, seeing their master dead. The pain hits me mid-way to the ground, and I can only use one hand to climb off the tree. \n\nI pull back the sleeves of my jacket to check the skin above my gloves. They are quickly turning violet. Poison. It will be worse if it was magical. \n\n“Are you alright?”Rina asks. \n\n“Yes.” \n\nShe starts to step away but freezes and looks at Thar. “No, you’re not, and neither is your demon.”\n\nThar is writhing on the ground, something I want to do but cannot. The stones of her arm have gone dark and brittle, little chunks of them falling off with her every moment.Rina walks closer and places two fingers on the skin of my neck.\n\n“She’s hurt, and so are you,” she says. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what I’ve done. \n\n“You’ve bonded yourself to them,” she says. “Your demons.”\n\nI smile. “A bonding is better than a binding, isn’t it?”\n\n“You could die!” she hisses. “What if Thar had died today?”\n\nI check on Thar, who’s recovering. The pain in my own body is diminishing as well, but I’m still weak. It’s true that if Thar gets injured, I do as well. But I heal just as quickly. I let myself lean onto Rina, my head on her shoulder, my lips grazing her neck.\n\n“No risk, no reward, Rina,” I tell her. \n\n\\-------------------------\n\nr/xeuthis",
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