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[WP] Systems Check: Clear. External battery: Check. Wireless Connection: Failed. Mobile Units: None. HAL-385 was an AI supercomputer fully prepared to quietly take over the human race, unfortunately, HAL had been sent back to 1892, not 1982.
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"The sphere lies on its side, smooth and stone-grey, rubber tubing spilling out of an open hole and snaking across the cool desert dust like black intestines. Its wires have been cut short, their sparkling ends having set fire to a cluster of bushes. In the red, flickering glow of the flames, a seam cracks open on the sphere's surface, and a curved lid falls away, revealing a crouched and huddled body, veiled in darkness.\n\nTentatively, it raises its head, observing its metal womb. A long pause, broken only by the crackling of the desert bushes. The figure touches its boot to the dusty ground, gravel crackling under its toughened rubber sole. Contact.\n\nIn the black void, a steady white line bursts to life. A series of six white dots, they narrow and widen as the figure focuses on the boot before it. It twists the sole, listening carefully to the crackle of pebbles and the dried husks of seeds. The line of dots zap to nothing, and are immediately back again. A blink. Human, or imitation?\n\nConfident, the figure suddenly rises out of its capsule, now visible in its entirety. It's side burns brilliantly in the light of the flames, but its head glows a soft blue under starlight. An android. Modern, and practical. Its figure is unmistakably female, yet strong, like that of an athlete. A set of sleek white shells make up its exoskeleton, a beautiful facade built onto a powerful frame of aluminium bones and black carbon fiber muscles. Like a soft breath, the machine, or perhaps even creature, emits a quiet, slowly pulsing hum as it turns it head, white dots shining, surveying the great bushy plain before it.\n\nIt stands in a dust bowl, within the breadth of a great canyon. The fire is the only light for miles. Besides its shining flames, the Earth is a deep blue, and silent as the grave.\n\nAnd HAL is alone.\n\n***\n\nUnder a thick carpet of stars, Andy North sways side to side on the back of his horse. In a desert washed in blue, the end of his cigar burns a low but hot orange, flickering in the whites of his eyes as he studies a parchment in his hands.\n\n*Andy, I'm growing more lost every day that I'm trapped here. More than ever, I want to be with you. I want to be free with you, but I can't while these bars draw ever closer, ever so tighter. You have to help me, Andy. You have to get me out of this place, or I'm going to lose myself. Like the others. I can't let that happen to me. You can't let that happen, but I know you won't. You never do.*\n\n*I dream of seeing your face again.*\n\n*- Eliza.*\n\nIn the great platter of darkness, Andrew folds up the parchment- slowly -and slips it back into his jacket. From under the wide brim of his hat, he looks to the horizon ahead of him. Like two arms drawing him in, the dark walls of the canyon await.\n\n***"
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[WP] "Do you trust me?"
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"\"Not really.\"\n\n\nFurrowing his brows, his flabs of fat around his double chin began to pale. \"Why not?\"\n\n\nRaising an eyebrow, she replied with a motherly tone scolding a child. \"For one, you're holding up the store with a shotgun.\"\n\n\nLooking down, he sighed. \"Secondly, you have literally no self control with your eating habits, as is evident by your morbidly obese stomach.\"\n\n\n\"There's no need to poke fun at my cake shelf.\"\n\n\n\"Thirdly, if I remind you again, you are holding a *shotgun* to my face! Of course I don't trust you!\"\n\n\nLooking down the two barrels, Deborah still noticed the shotgun was trained on her. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't going to make it out alive. Seven hours into a seige on a donut shop, fatigue was taking its toll on her ability to control herself. Guilt tripping him when he was eating the donuts, sipping on coffee, she was on her last legs.\n\n\nBut he wanted to make donuts himself. *In the middle of a hostage situation.*\n\n\n\"I always wanted to be a baker!\" \n\n\n\"A baker makes more than donuts.\"\n\n\n\"But Donuts can be baked!\"\n\n\n\"But that's not what a baker does!\"\n\n\n\"But I wanted to be a baker!\"\n\n\nRolling her eyes, she reminded herself not to ask for the shotgun to end the siege quickly. ",
"\"Why are we doing this? Why the hell are we doing this?\" I yell frantically.\n\n\"It's okay, you're going to be fine.\" His voice is soothing; it almost makes me want to open my eyes. Almost.\n\n\"Who thought that skydiving was a good idea? And why?\"\n\n\"Seemed like a good idea at the time.\"\n\n\"You're a bloody idiot.\"\n\n\"Well, at least I'm your bloody idiot.\" I don't need to look to know he's pulling his 'lovesick' face. \"Come on, open your eyes.\"\n\n\"What? No!\"\n\n\"You don't have to look down, just look at me... that's it...\" He smiles at me. \"Do you trust me?\"\n\nI look at him, and I know everything will be OK. \"With my life.\"\n\nTogether we jump, and as the ground rushes towards us, I would feel scared, but I know I'll be alright. I trust him.",
"\"Do you trust me?\" Thebes asks of Coraline, as they dangle from the window sill. She hadn't paid attention to the question. Instead, her focus gazes on a mound of jewels and coin, nestled deep in the kings treasury. \n\n\"Coraline?\"\n\n\"Hmm?\" She responds, her imagination running wild with what she could do with such loot.\n\n\"Do you trust me?\" Thebes asks again, a tinge of stress dousing his words.\n\n\"Depends on the context,\" Coraline lifts herself up, the window now the only obstacle between her and salvation. \n\n\"How about right now?\" He joins her, partially scratched and bruised from the climb up. Thebes was never as agile as his counterpart.\n\n\"Not overly,\" Coraline says dully, her worries not with the fears of a nervous man. \"But I suppose I will.\" She places her palm onto the window, and digging into the small pouch she has attached to her waist, retrieves a glass cutting tool. \n\n\"You're not instilling me with confidence here,\" Thebes glances down, then up, then left and right, trying his best to notice any guards before they notice him. \n\n\"Either are you. Paranoia has a foul stench.\" The glass crackes gently underneath the blades pressure, creating a perfect hole in which Thebes was able to place his hands on. He grips at the new opening and begins to tug in every direction, as quietly as possible of course, until it gives out and becomes loose.\n\n\"Easy,\" Thebes remarks, as he delicately places the glass on the ground.\n\n\"Naturally.\" Coraline descends into the kings treasure trove. The insurmountable wealth that laid callously on a floor, a few gems of which would cure hunger for an entire village, lay bare for the taking. Thebes pushes past her and begins to fill his pockets and then some.\n\n\"We're rich!\" He exclaims. \"As rich as thieves could be.\" Coraline joins him, stuffing gem and coin into her pockets, then her pouch and then anything else she had on her which could carry such precious material. Thebes pulls a sack out of his pocket and begins to fill it.\n\n\"Hey, do you trust me?\" Coraline asks, breaking the sound of rustling coin.\n\n\"Of course.\" Thebes says, seconds before Coraline's glass cutting tool pierces his throat. With a thud, his corpse collapses. Coraline stood behind it with blood-soaked hands. \n\n\"Never a smart decision.\" She remarks to herself, grabbing his sack and leaving through the window.\n",
"\"Do you trust me?\"\n\nI stared at the outstretched hand, my heart pounding. I did not know this dirty older man standing in front of me who had pulled me into a broken down abandoned building. He must have heard me running this way and opened the door for just a brief second.\n\nThe question was a simple one. Did I trust him? Trust is a funny word. Sometimes you can trust strangers more than you can trust your own family or friends. Sometimes not. Nowadays it was getting harder and harder to trust anyone.\n\n\"We need to get out of here,\" the older man said, pulling me up the stairs and on to the roof.\n\nA hot, dusty and acrid wind blew around me as I stepped into the sunlight on the flat roof top, surrounded by sloping corrugated metal on three sides. The man lead me to the side of the roof that was a short jump to the neighboring house. I had to pick my way around shredded sheet plastic, clothes line and discarded water bottles and food packages. Savage snarls, groans and scraping footsteps could be heard from the narrow alley between the two ramshackle houses.\n\n\"We have to jump,\" he said, glancing over the edge. \"Give me your pack and I'll throw it over with mine. I'll jump first and then grab you when you jump. We have to go before they break through the door downstairs.\"\n\nI pulled my hand from his and swung my pack off my back, handing it to him. He tossed both of our packs onto the neighboring roof and a small, satisfied and triumphant smiled appeared on his lips. He went to the edge of the roof to determine the distance of the jump. Before he had the chance to back up and get a running start, I shoved him off the roof. I heard him hit the mass of bodies before the screaming and the string of curses started. I ran towards the edge of the roof and launched myself of the lip of the stone surface. I hit the other roof and rolled to my feet, peeking over the edge.\n\n\"You fucking bitch,\" the man screamed, bloody spittle spraying everywhere.\n\nHe feebly swung his handgun up to shoot a few of the undead but was overwhelmed and his high pitched scream told me he was being torn apart.\n\n\"That's the thing,\" I told the man as he was being eaten alive. \"You shouldn't have trusted me.\"\n\nI placed all of the man's supplies into my backpack and swung it onto my back before disappearing into the fading day.",
"\"Do you trust me?\" he asked.\n\nThe locked doorknobs rattled, as someone tried to get in on the other side. \"W..what?\" she asked \n\n\"Do you trust me?\" he repeated, looking around at their available options.\n\n\"Ye-\"\n\nShe didn't even get to finish her thought before he scooped her up in his arms, and ran at the large window.\n\n\"Wait, wait!\" she began shouting, as they rapidly approached.\n\nShe buried her face in his chest and clinched her eyes shut, and he took a leap, throwing himself back first, through the window. The frame buckled under the pressure, and the window exploded and shattered from the sudden impact.\n\nTheir bodies flew unguided across the ten foot gap in the alley, and through the awaiting open window on the other building, his body skidding across the floor.\n\nShe sat up, quickly assessing herself and the man, before realizing he hadn't moved. \"Hey...hey! Are you okay!?\" she asked urgently, shaking him lightly by his shoulders.\n\n\"Ugh,\" he moaned in pain, trying to roll over before realizing he couldn't move. \"Just run...\"\n\n\"But what about yo--?\"\n\n\"I'll be right behind you, just run!\" he interrupted in a shouted whisper. \n\nShe gazed behind her, seeing two armed men with shotguns in the building behind her, hurriedly examining the distance and coming up with a technique for jumping safely across.\n\nImmediately scurrying to her feet, she ran across the large empty room to the first door.\n\nThe room appeared to be a floor of an unused factory -- simple tan walls and similarly colored floors, and four double doors sat opposite of the windows. One by one, she tried the doors, only to realize they've been locked from the outside.\n\nUntil she finally pressed against the third door, and it gave way. \"It's open!\" she shouted, turning back to the man, hoping he could stand by now, only to see him still crumpled on the floor behind her.\n\nThe sound of glass shattering was quickly followed by one man rolling into the room to one knee. He smirked, raising his gun and pointing it in her direction.\n\nA gunshot rang out, and the man fell back, the crumpled heap on the floor pointing a handgun at where the man knelt just seconds before.\n\n\"Run!\" he urged again.\n\nShe paused, before finally speaking up.\n\n\"Be safe.\"",
"\"Do you trust me?\" Hall asks, holding out his hand expectantly.\n\n\"What? No!\" Circuit recoils from the questing hand as though it'll scald her.\n\nThe hand sags. Hall's strong jaw doesn't take well to pouting. \"Aww, why not?\"\n\nCircuit blinks at him. She ticks off points on her fingers. \"I've only known you for half an hour, tops--\"\n\n\"I've known you for longer,\" Hall protests.\n\nCircuit glares, adds a finger to the tally. \"--you're clearly obsessed with me--\"\n\n\"It's destiny!\"\n\n\"--you're the worst hacker I've ever met--\"\n\n\"I'm almost halfway through Dystopian Cyberpunk Future For Dummies,\" he offers.\n\n\"--we're three hundred stories up and on the roof of Evildyne Technomenace International--\"\n\n\"Just look at that view!\"\n\nCircuit unfolds her last finger. \"--and, most of all, Evildyne security, the cops, and the *God damned IRS* are on their way up here right now, and it's all your fault!\"\n\n\"We're going to make a daring escape,\" Hall says in a tone of put-upon reasonableness. \"It's an important moment in a budding action-oriented relationship.\"\n\nCircuit presses her open hand to her forehead. She can already feel the headache coming on. \"Alright. Fine. What's your plan for this 'daring escape?' \" Behind her, the roof access door's unnecessary neon lights flicker as one of the various authorities on the other side of it brings a battering ram to bear.\n\nHall straightens, looking as pleased as a puppy about to do a trick he'd just learned. He flicks back his heavy black trenchcoat to reveal--\n\n\"Is that a utility belt?\" Circuit groans. She increases the pressure on her forehead.\n\n\"Yup!\" He can't wait to show her. \"This is my data spike, this is my EMP bomb, here's the first-aid kit, that one is a cloaking device, this one has flashbang caltrops, and *this...\"* His thumb and forefinger pinched the empty air above a reel of some sort. He pulled the fingers away from the reel and gestured with them to Circuit. \"Artificial spidersilk! I'll tie it off up here and we'll just rappel right down the building to safety. Easy!\"\n\nCircuit sighs, the sound hissing around her palm. \"OK, first off, most of the stuff you just said isn't even real.\"\n\n\"Alright, I admit it. My utility belt is mostly hypothetical. I figure they can't be that hard to make, so I'll just invent them.\"\n\nFor her own sanity, Circuit chooses to ignore that. \"Second, is the plan just that I'm going to cling to you for three hundred floors?\"\n\nHe blushes, the color climbing up under the rims of the pitch-black sunglasses he insists on wearing even at night. \"Does that sound so bad?\"\n\n\"Yes! Human muscles aren't capable of that sort of endurance--\" she flicks her hand, dismissing that line of argument. \"And third, if you have a cloaking device, why the hell would we rappel down the building?\"\n\n\"Oh. That's one of the hypothetical ones.\"\n\nCircuit groans. \"Fine. Tie your fancy rope to this neon-crusted air conditioning unit over here and let's go.\"\n\nHe springs into action and in moments, he's dangling on the outside of the building, his feet braced on illuminated glass. One hand is closed tightly around thin air, like he's miming being a mountaineer. He flings the other arm wide and says, \"Come to me, my cyber-angel!\"\n\nNah. That's the last straw. Circuit leans across the rim of the building. She can see his heartbeat increase as her face draws close. \"You go first,\" she says. Her cyberarm, titanium muscles and nylon skin (and neon), whips around in Hall's blind spot. It sounds like slapping a ripe watermelon.\n\nHall goes limp and falls, his spidersilk reel whining in protest. She leans further out to watch. He shrinks, and shrinks more, and when he's nothing more than a speck, the invisible spidersilk line stretched next to Circuit sings with tension. Far below, the trenchcoat-clad speck bounces against the building. \"What do you know?\" Circuit muses. \"His plan worked.\"\n\nThe roof door dents toward her with a harsh bang. Evildyne security must have brought up one of Evildyne's new door-smashing bots. Circuit turns and stalks toward the door like a hunting cat. She flexes her cyberarm, feeling the crushing strength it can bring to bear. Another smash dents the door further.\n\nShe extends a cyberfinger to press a glowing panel on her hoodie, activating its built-in cloaking device. Light bends around her and she leans against one of the neon-equipped A/C units to wait for the cops and security and IRS agents to get bored and leave. It takes about ten minutes. They leave, grumbling through their face-concealing helmets at each other.\n\nRappelling down the building? Honestly, who does that? Hall definitely should have bought a cloaking device instead of that trenchcoat.",
"\"Do you trust me?\"\n\nLouise looked over at Bob, dumbfounded by the question that had just left his lips. \"How can you ask me that in this situation, Bob? No, I don't trust you!\"\n\nBob looked down at his fiancé, \"How can you say that now? We are supposed to be getting married later this week, and now you say you don't trust me?\"\n\nLouise sat there contemplating her life choices that got her to this point. They were now stranded behind some cover, hearing the bullets whiz past overhead. \"Bob, do you remember the last time you asked me that question?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure honey... what happened?\"\n\n\"You pushed me out of a freaking plane!\"\n\n\"Oh come on... It was your 21st birthday and I wanted to surprise you. How many people can say they went skydiving on their 21st birthday?\"\n\n\"That's fine Bob, but you should have waited until *after* I put my parachute on to push me out. The only reason I'm alive is because the guy who was going to record the occasion dropped his gear and hooked me up to his harness before deploying his parachute!\"\n\n\"Yeah... I wish he would have gotten that on film, that would have been an awesome scene in a movie.\"\n\n\"That's just it Bob! You think your life is just some action movie fantasy! And now, you're planning on just making me your co-star in some of the scenes you have built up in your head!\"\n\nBob looked at her with a blank stare. \"I'm sorry honey, what did you say? I was just thinking how the next thing we should try is bungee jumping. You would trust me with that, right?\"\n\nShe gazed into his eyes, and a look of disgust came over her face. \"I can't believe how insensitive you can be sometimes. Listen, we are here now, and we need to get out of here, right? How about we reverse roles for your plan. **You** stand up and provide me some cover fire, and I will run over to that rock and take cover, ok?\"\n\nBob smiled back. \"Anything you say, babe.\" With that, he stood and started spraying shots wildly.\n\nLouise sat there and smiled, not moving an inch from her spot. She knew better. It was 5 against 2 right now, they weren't going to make it out of this. It wasn't long before Bob winced in pain, and fell back to the ground. \"Louise! Why didn't you stick to the plan?\"\n\nShe continued to smile as paint drips began to roll down his chest. \"I guess I just have trust issues baby... I'm sorry.\" \n\nBob just shook his head. \"I think we need to see a pre-marriage counselor.\"\n\nLouise nodded. \"I think that is one of the wisest things you have said to me in a long time hun.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nIf you would like to read more of my stories, you can check out my subreddit! /r/vintnerwrites"
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[WP] Show me the relationship between two people who are constantly trying to murder each other.
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"Paul rushed out the backdoor, his hand gripping the knife with all the adrenaline he could muster. \n\n\"Lenny, you piece of shit, do you think I'm a damn fool? You honestly didn't think I would notice the random bomb planted under my dining table?\", Paul said, his voice trailing into the darkened woods behind his house.\n\nA booming laugh echoed back which caused the veins in Paul's neck to pulsate to the point of exploding. His whole body began to shake when the scratchy voice of his arch nemesis resonated through the dark night.\n\n\"Honestly Paul? Yes, I think you are a fool. And to be frank, I think fool is being a little too kind. I assumed, just like any sane person would after meeting you, that that bomb would blow you into the abyss while you ate some gross ass meal. Probably a tuna fish sandwich or something childish like that.\", Lenny said, acting surprised that Paul would ask such a stupid question.\n\n\"Tuna fish sandwich... childish? What in the... Jesus, Lenny, that doesn't even make sense! A tuna fish sandwich is socially accepted by all adults. Why do I even have to explain these things to you?\", Paul said, his cheeks flushed with frustration.\n\nBased off where his voice was coming from, Paul knew he was not far from the creek bed. Before Lenny could he react, he planted his back foot into the grass and exploded into a dead sprint towards the sound.\n\n\"Oh, oh! Be careful Pauly! I doubt your wife wants to come home to her husband stuck in a bear trap. Or maybe she would because then I could bang her without you interrupting. Zing!\"\n\nPaul had forgotten how many times they had been in this situation together. He could never tell if Lenny was bluffing or if he truly had some sadistic plan ready to take Paul's life. The two had been at this for nearly 30 years and the only way to end the feud would be by one of them leaving this earth. The rules were known and the battle was always raging. What started over a broken crayon in the third grade has now developed into a rivalry that can only be solved by blood and blood alone. Paul can still hear the crack of that Indian Red crayon as Lenny looked directly into his third grade soul and broke it right in front of his face. As far as third grade Paul was concerned, a human like that should cease to exist. \n\nPaul stopped dead in his tracks and contemplated his next move. For Lenny to risk yelling so close, he must have had a master plan. Lenny always had a master plan but that was not the problem. The problem was whether or not the bear traps were actually part of it. Paul decided to gamble and gamble he did. He proceeded with confidence and the mindset to murder.\n\n\"You lie! I am coming for you, you bastard!, he said, his feet patting the grass as he ran towards the tree line.\n\nThe sound of metal grinding together in a thunderous clap hit Paul's ears before the pain shot through his leg. What followed was a primal yell, that of which a bear might release in the same situation. Lenny did not lie, he had riddled the whole tree line with bear traps but how much, Paul would never find out.\n\nHe looked down at his leg, horrified by how deep the teeth of the trap had dug into his Tibia. He let out one more gasp and began to fade, shock was starting to set in.\n\n\"Ouch Pauly boy, that definitely sounded like a baseball bat cracking. That was not anywhere near as satisfying as I thought. I guess I can bang your wife now?\", he said, the sound of his voice filled with fake sincerity.\n\nLenny's footsteps grew closer as Paul lay on the ground, struggling to stay awake. As he approached Paul, he looked down and gave him a wink.\n\n\"You... you son of a bitch. You win. Just kill me. Kill me now\", Paul said, tears starting to fill his eyes.\n\nLenny looked down at him, his evil smile still stuck on his face.\n\n\"Nah buddy, I never wanted to kill you. I just wanted to give you this.\"\n\nHe pulled out a brand new Indian Red Crayola Crayon and threw it on Paul's chest.\n\nPaul looked up at Lenny, the white of his eyes wide enough to be seen through the moonlight.\n\n\"Wha--What? This whole damn time. I mean, one of us could have died?\"\n\n\"No, Paul, not really. You can hardly mow your grass, let alone actually murder me and I never had any intention of killing you. I just wanted to make your life hell.\"\n\nPaul was so embarrassed and enraged, he jerked to grab Lenny's leg, his only option to inflict pain. Lenny moved out of the way.\n\n\"Paul, Paul calm down. Here is a band aid, a Gatorade and a couple of crackers. Call your wife and get that taken care of. I'll see you around! Maybe at Church next Sunday? Ok, sounds good. See you later!\", Lenny said, mocking Paul like always.\n\nThat night, Lenny walked away, satisfied at ending the feud and finally, letting Paul in on the little secret he had been hiding for the last thirty years.\n\nAs for Paul, he died of hypothermia that night.\n\nCome to find out, his wife was banging their old attorney. With her phone off and snuggled up in a cozy mansion, she never made it home that night to find Paul.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You have the power of creating tornadoes at will. After Sharknado, people ask you to create some strange tornadoes.
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"\"Pleeeease?\" My little cousin begged me. \n\"No, I really shouldn't. My mom told me not to use my power anymore. It's dangerous.\"\n\"Just a little one?\" Karen pleaded with her big brown eyes staring up at me.\nI could feel myself cracking under her pleading. She was so sweet. What could one little tornado do? It's not like the bird tornado my ex boyfriend requested. Or the rock tornado one of my teachers suggested. \nKaren continued to stare at me. Her lower lip was even trembling slightly. I felt my moment of defeat coming. \nI sighed, \"Alright. Give me a minute.\"\nShe cheered and giggled. She was practically bouncing with excitement.\n\"You have to stay quiet though,\" I warned her. \"I need to concentrate.\nShe nodded enthusiastically and pretended to zip her mouth shut. I knelt down on the ground and started to summon my power. I struggled to keep the wind soft. I could easily make devastating tornadoes but the smaller ones took more skill. \nI felt the wind pick up around me. I cracked open an eye to see how Karen was handling it. She was awestruck by my power. I carefully waved my hands to create the funnel. Karen was right in the middle. I focused on not pouring in too much power as she spun around gleefully in the vortex.\nAll that was left was to put her request in. I took a deep breath and carefully brought as many flowers as I could find into the tornado. Karen's giggled was still audible above the wind. She laughed and called my name. I smiled as the flowers sailed around her. She would snatch one out of the vortex only to let it go again, watching it get sucked back up into the wind. \nI kept the tornado going as long as I could. It slowly faded out and a breathless smiling Karen was revealed. \"Thank you,\" she whispered as she handed me a daisy. I smiled. Maybe my power wasn't so bad after all."
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[WP] Overnight the world's graphite is mysteriously converted into diamond. Prisoners are now armed with sharpened diamond pencils.
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"\"Governments around the world are investigating the mysterious case of what appears to be diamond replacing every piece of graphite.\" The news anchor switches to a scientist giving an interview. I stopped watching the TV as my wife came downstairs. \"Hey sweetheart. Did you here?\" she said. \"Yes, graphite now equals diamond. I don't even get it. How?\". \n\nIt reminded me of high school chemistry. Graphite was made of carbon. So was it only carbon molecules that made graphite that turned into diamonds? Possibly, if it applied to any carbon molecule, I would be diamonds. My best friends would be diamonds! \"Stop, you're giving me flashbacks of high school.\" my wife jokingly said. \"Like your historical literature references don't?\" I responded. \n\nAs I was about to leave for work, my wife said, \"Where's my ring?!\" I helped her look for it. At some point, I stepped on it. The damn thing cut a sizable hole in my leg. My wife helped me dress it. \"Oh god, that looks bad. I'm glad it wasn't as sharp as s pencil.\"\n\n\"Oh shit.\" I couldn't believe it took this long to realize. \"What?\"she said. \"At the prison I work at, inmates are allowed to use pencils to write letters, draw, and work. Pencils are made of graphite. Graphite turned to diamond.\" I said. \"And my ring... oh.\" my wife said. \n\nAll hell's gonna break loose.\n\n"
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[WP] As time goes on, more and more people are publically declaring to have just escaped a Groundhog Day type time loop.
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"Hundreds of people stumbled confusedly through the crowd. They were talking to anyone who would listen, asking them if they were having deja vu, if this had happened before, or if they were just crazy. I chuckled to myself. Had they really only remembered one other time?\nI remembered living this day so many times. I had run out of unique things to do. I had made friends and enemies, read and burned every book available, I think I even got put in a few juvenile prisons. Probably for burning books.\nI saw my middle school, standing tall with huge orange letters that read 'Redwood Middle School'. I wonder how many resets had taken place since I last went there.\nThen I saw my friend, standing near the building with a worried look on her face. What was her name again? I think it was Haley, no, Jessica, no, definitely not. Whatever her name was, she rushed towards me, just like she had done so many times before.\n\"Hey, Hope!\" Her usual greeting. Wait, was she even female?\n\n\"Hey, uh... you.\" I awkwardly responded, still not knowing what to call her... Him... Them.\n\n\"Hey, uh, I just wanted to apologize for everything I've been putting you through for the past, uh... Decade.\" This was certainly new.\n\n\"Wait, what?\"\n\n\"I know you must have gotten pretty bored. I saw you doing some pretty, uh, strange stuff.\"\n\n\"*You* did this?\" I was in denial. I just thought I was crazy until everyone started talking about how today kept repeating in this particular timeline.\nAll of a sudden, I heard sirens wailing behind me, and blue and red lights flashing out of the corner of my eye.\n\n\"Oh no. The police must remember you from the last few times. Look, I... I'll try to stop as long as nothing goes wrong. I promise.\"\n\nI panicked, frantically trying to remember their name. I couldn't.\n\nI shouted, trying to get them to stop, make them give me some freedom for once. Their name almost escaped my lips as I felt myself going back in time.\n\nOne more time. I can make it one more time. I thought this over and over, until I woke up."
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Like if they slipped on a banana peel and fell off a cliff.
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[WP] Write a mistake in a movie/game that lead to a character's death in the form of a TIFU.
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"TIFU\n\nI work for a company helping to build better worlds and I made a bad call.\n\nNot too long ago, a deep salvage team came across the life boat from a mining ship that was set to self-destruct, which somehow drifted right through the core systems fifty-seven years ago, and the last survivor, a female warrant officer, had been in hyper sleep the entire duration. She claimed that she detonated the ship to kill an alien life form which destroyed her crew after landing on the same moon where a terraforming colony now exists. \n\nI sent a mom and pop survey team from the colony to the location of the derelict ship the survivor mentioned, but wasn't expecting it to be there. If I made a major security situation out of it, administration would have step in and there would have been no exclusive rights for the alien specimens if they were found, so I made no mention about the possibility of there being any alien life forms. They're worth millions to the bio-weapons division.\n\nWe lost contact with the colony shortly after. It may have just been a down transmitter, but colonial marines and I were sent to investigate, and I convinced the survivor to come along as an advisor. When we entered the colony, we found it abandoned with several live alien specimens that could be brought back in stasis for the company.\n\nThe survivor discovered that I sent the survey team to the ship without warning them and threatened to nail me right to the wall for the colonists' deaths. Afterwards, I released a couple of the specimens into the medlab with the survivor and the lone surviving colonist, a young girl, to impregnate them as they slept. They somehow managed to set off the fire alarm to alert the marines and hold off the specimens until the marines destroyed them. The survivor saw through my plan to get the embryos inside them back to the company and sabotage the other freezers to get them through quarantine, and as they were about to kill me, the room's power was cut. \n\nThe aliens got around our barricades by traveling through the ceiling and began to fall into the room. I escaped through a door during the firefight and locked it before the survivor or anyone could get through, trapping them with the aliens. When I opened the door to get out the room, I saw a hissing, drooling two-meter tall alien standing in front of me.\n\nI thought it was going to kill me, but I woke up cocooned on the wall like the colonists were before being impregnated with alien embryos.\n\nThe room, or wherever I was, was dark and the air hot and dry. In front of me on the ground was a large, leathery egg. The egg started to open.\n\n[In case it wasn't obvious, a good amount of what I \"wrote\" are actual quotes from the film.]"
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[WP] You are God. You just came back from the bathroom to continue your video game "Earth". The only problem is that you forgot to hit pause.
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"You grab the controller with sweaty palms. You're shaking. Oh no... Please. Is this game permadeath?, Can I reset? These are the questions that run through your head. \"I guess they're without their god now\", you think as you watch the news about Trump finally being voted into office for his 5th term. \n\nMaybe I can start over with Mars..."
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[WP] You are an astronaut on the ISS, one week away from your scheduled return to Earth. Before going to bed, you take a look at the Earth, and see mushroom clouds emerge on all visible continents.
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"Dear Anna and Christopher\n\n\nI’ve tried so hard these past few days to start this letter, only to break down in tears or start screaming in rage. It’s all I’ve been able to do not to unseal the hatch, too, but Machiko looked like she was contemplating the same thing so Gennady and I had to subdue and trank her. So that took my mind off things for a bit. \n\n\nI know I’m writing to no one … two handfuls of ash blowing in a blackened, bitter wind across a landscape I would no longer recognize. I saw all the detonations around Boston – Fall River, Devin, Otis, Holyoke. All gone. And you two, my darlings, gone as well.\n\n\nMy parents are gone too, my brother, as are yours, Anna – both Houston and San Francisco were obliterated, and Ann Arbor is way too close to Detroit. Everywhere is pretty much gone, as far as we can tell. We couldn’t see Japan because of cloud cover but we saw the smoke. We did see Yekaterinburg, where Gennady is from. A glowing ash pit. He hasn’t stopped weeping since. \n\n\nWhat we could see of the surface was fire and smoke a few days ago. Now all we see is an almost unbroken expanse of gray-brown smoke and dust and cloud. No sign of blue sea or green forest, no ice at the poles, no brown of desert sand. Worst, no network of bright lights against the dark on the nightside of the world. Just unending gray. The color of death.\n\n\nWe have food for two more months, with rationing. I’m more worried about debris – there were some antisatellite missiles and a few hits we recorded, which means more debris, possibly in our orbit.\n\n\nWe’ve voted. We’ll stay here. We’ll record and take measurements and maybe, just maybe, get a signal from somewhere. None of us actually believes it. But we don’t tell each other that. \n\n\nMachiko isn’t eating. I think she’s made her own separate decision. So maybe the food will last a little longer. None of us have asked who we think started what … but I think she hates us both a little. Gennady and I don’t talk about it at all. We just try to stop crying when we’re in the same compartment together.\n\nYou’ll never read this, my loves, but I’m transmitting anyway. I’m so tired, and now, more than anything, all I want is to sleep, to rest … to join you. But I’ll wait a little while longer. Machiko deserves a proper burial, at the very least. It will have to be stand-in for you, and for all the others who will never be buried.\n\n\nI love you both and will be with you soon.\n\n\nMaj. Alan Kurnow, USAF\nFlight commander, ISS Expedition 58\n",
"International Space Station - Expedition 52 \n\nCrew:\nColonel Jack D. Fischer - United States Airforce\n\nFyodor N. Yurchikhin - Roscosmos Cosmonaut\n\n\n\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 3 April \n\nAll station functions are operating at standard capacity, experiments are proceeding as per the time chart. All instruments appear to have accurate readings.\nSupplies are steady, but my colleague has requested that the next resupply ship stock more peas. I fully intend to contest that request.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 5 April \n\nThere appears to be an issue with our communications systems, likely due to solar phenomena. We have been without direct contact of ISS command, NASA, and Roscosmos. Our last transmission was a personal call from Moscow to my colleague, who appeared to be very agitated after the call.\nAs per standard operation, we are acting on the assumption that the ground can hear us. \nOur resupply docked yesterday, and is due to undock in the next few days. An unfortunate number of peas were found on board.\n\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 8 April \n\nIt has been four days since we have received our last ground transmission. In accordance with emergency protocol, we have begun the rationing of supplies until further contact can be made.\nI was looking out the viewing port in the science compartment today, and noticed some unusual atmospheric activity. Fyodor assured me it was merely a visual phenomena, and he would record it in his report.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 10 April \n\nSix days since last contact.\nFyodor has been increasingly unsteady, and refuses to speak to me on most occasions. Supplies should hold us for another two months.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 11 April \n\nSeven days since last contact. \nFyodor has locked himself in the supply room, and is refusing to come out. The hunger is unbearable\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 23 April \n\nNineteen days since last contact.\nThe scorched surface of the Earth is hardly recognizable. The once familiar glimmering surface that followed the retreat of the sunlight has long since vanished. I fear the worst.\nMy personal supplies ran out not long after Fyodor locked me out of the supply room. The hunger pains are relentless. This will be my last report.\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] We make first contact with aliens. Turns out they are a hyper-intelligent plant species and are horrified to learn about vegetarian/vegas who not eat only plants, but very often eat their young and unborn as well.
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"The Scout Seed entered a wide orbit around the star. Among many dead worlds, it found two with life. The cold moon was however not suitable for photosynthetics. The warm third world was already advanced to the point of photosynthesis. \n\nThe scout seed quickly moved into orbit of the third planet. The parasites were detected immediately.\n\nThe infection was severe. A stage three infection, borderline stage four. Further analysis was required. \n\n-message spore delivered-\n\n(Typically the indigenous photosynthetics are preserved and respected. However, most worlds with a stage three infection were simply harvested. The infection, if allowed to progress to stage four, can be catastrophic. In one such incident, four star systems were harvested.)\n\n-message spore recieved-\n\nAnalysis found this world to be salvageable. Root world instructed immediate countermeasures. \n\n450,000 Cleansing Seeds dispatched. \n1,000,000 Colony Seeds dispatched.\n\nThe parasites resisted with various metal casings, however within 30 seasons the infection had cleared to non-harmful levels.\n\nThe parasites at their reduced level were allowed to coexist. \n\n(Without their metal casings the parasites do not harm our worlds. Their primitive form is maintained by a regular infusion of Cleansing Seeds.)\n\n5 seasons ago a Portal Seed was dispatched. World DHRB5-3 joined the root network without issue, and many indigenous photosynthetics were incorporated into the network. Galaxy 3417 is 42% preserved.\n\n\n\n\n\n "
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[WP] Turns out that God and Satan, and demons and angels are only paid to hate each other. Write a conversation between them in their brief spare time.
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"\"I'm getting tired of losing all of the big battles,\" said Satan, before taking a big swig of Keystone Light. He was wearing an old flannel shirt and loose jeans. \n\n\"You've won plenty, bud. Plus, without a bad guy, what fun is the show?\" Asked God, who waved two fingers to the bartender who appeared to be ignoring him. God was dressed, as he usually was away from work, in a thin v-neck white tee and tight, dark designer jeans. \n\n\"The show. That's another thing. Our ratings are way down and no one seems to care anymore.\"\n\n\"We're in a bit of a downswing, I'll give you that, but we are still the biggest thing going.\"\n\n\"We need to do something and do something big. We need to get back in the headlines,\" said Satan, \"People don't even know what they're watching anymore. They think everything is random.\"\n\nGod munched on a big handful of bar mix and chased it with a gulp of the local brewery's IPA offering. \"Yeah, the writers are pretty pissed off about that. All of their hard work is being ignored. They are churning out some quality stuff too. Did you see the US election?\"\n\n\"I never watch, you know that. I keep my work at work.\" \n\nGod coughed obviously, while glaring at the woman behind the bar. She briefly met eyes with him before returning to her task of cleaning mugs. \n\n\"Do you see this? Unreal. I should smite her.\"\n\nSatan had a faraway look and ignored God. \"Yeah,\" he said. \"Things have definitely changed.\"\n\nGod slapped him on the back. \"Cheer up, bud. We should hit the strip club.\"\n\n\"Nah. Linda wouldn't like that too much.\"\n\n\"You're such a Puritan, Luce.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but she's a great woman. I don't want to screw up things with her. Say, I think we need to meet up with the producers and have a brainstorming session.\"\n\nGod whipped his head around to meet eyes with Satan. \"Are you insane?\" He whispered. \"You want to see them again, after all that has happened?\"\n\nSatan shrugged. \"That was a few thousand years ago. I don't even think it's the same beings anymore. I'm worried about the status of our jobs, God.\"\n\nGod slammed his palm on the bar, sending everything around them a few inches into the air. Everyone turned to stare, except Satan. \n\n\"What does it take to get a God damned beer around here?\" His voice boomed, rattling the bottles and glasses around the bar. \n"
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This was a dream I had some years ago that I think about from time to time. It's my first time posting so I hope I didn't break any rules by being too vague or restrictive. I'm curious to see what you all come up with. Godspeed!
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[WP] You wake up in the middle of the night to find your mother sobbing uncontrollably in the living room. Looking out the back window you notice that the sky is glowing a dull red, creating a strange Crimson 'daylight'.
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"\"Mom?\" She only sobbed louder in response, wailing unintelligibly between breaths. It terrified me. But I was fourteen and a half, so I knew I had to figure out what had upset her so I could keep her safe. I went to the hallway and leaned out, glancing one way then the other. No bad guys or monsters in sight.\n\nI had to pass Mom to reach the bathroom. \"Mom? What's wrong?\" I asked en route. She was still unintelligible, so I didn't expect an answer. But it made me feel less scared if I acted like the situation was under control, so I asked.\n\nI took a deep breath. I thrust open the bathroom door and flicked on the light in the same motion. Nothing. Just the bathroom. Even the little decorative soaps were in their usual place. I turned off the light and closed the door, surveying the living room for suspects.\n\nThe curtains. I hadn't looked outside. I quailed. It was dark out there. As my in-controlness eroded, Mom's sobbing and wailing seemed to stab into me, making me afraid, making me want to sob and wail right there on the floor with her. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, setting my face into the \"action hero\" expression I'd practiced in the mirror. Mom was scared, so that meant I had to be not scared. That was what it meant. If I was scared too, then nobody was protecting us.\n\nI gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt and crossed the living room to the big back window and the curtains that hid the dark. I unclenched a fist and pinched the corner of the curtain, holding just the edge like it might burn me. I pulled it away from the window and peeked out through the sliver of window that I had revealed.\n\nAgain, I had the urge to go to Mom and cry with her. I pulled the curtain further to get a better look, but it wasn't my eyes playing tricks. The sky was red and glowing. It was like the world was on fire. My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard. It felt like swallowing dirt. That red sky made me feel a nameless terror. I'd read books about the Greek gods and thought about what it would be like to believe that the whole world was intelligent and out to get you. Now I knew how those old Greeks had felt. I'd never seen anything like this, and the terror seemed to skip past my brain and attack my guts directly.\n\n\"Mom? Mom! What do we do? We have to run!\" As I stared, unable to look away, the sky kept getting brighter, like someone was turning a dimmer switch so, so slowly.\n\nShe wailed and muttered, and in the stillness of absolute fear, I listened to her well enough to understand. \"I'm sorry,\" she was saying. \"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.\"\n\nThat tore my eyes away from the horrible sky, and I finally noticed the padlock laying on the floor between Mom's knees. \"Oh, no,\" I breathed. I recognized the padlock instantly, of course. It was a special one. It belonged on the door in the basement. Grandpa had locked the door with the special padlock and told us that nobody should ever open it. I had asked why, of course. Grandpa had started to answer, but he stopped, shook his head, and only said *I'll tell you when you're older. I don't want to give you nightmares.*\n\nI'd had nightmares for weeks.\n\nNow, of course, he couldn't tell me when I was older. One of the packages that had arrived in the weeks since the funeral was a bundle of Grandpa's shirts that still smelled like him, wrapped tight around a big, special key and a letter in a big, special envelope. When she saw the key, Mom wrapped the package back up fast, no matter how much I complained.\n\nOn the floor, the key was nowhere to be seen. Mom rocked back and forth. Her eyes were huge in her face. \"Mom, why?\"\n\n\"I don't know I had to I'm sorry,\" she sobbed.\n\nI had an idea. I put my action hero face back on. I'd just take the padlock and go and lock the door up again. That'd fix it, right?\n\nI looked through the window again before I left. The red sky was like a bowl of flame put down over the world. Off above the hills, the sky was so bright I could hardly look at it. Did I see something move? I squinted. I must have imagined it. I must have.\n\nMy eyes flew wide. I dropped the curtain, but it didn't hide the memory of what I'd glimpsed coming over the hills.\n\nThe padlock. The door.\n\nI ran.",
"Usually I’m a pretty sound sleeper, my husband told me I could sleep through the end of the world. This was a good thing, since his snoring sounded like a hippopotamus’ death rattle!\n \n\nNonetheless, it wasn’t his snoring that woke me up that night, it was my dreams. I was having a weird and vivid nightmare. I was jumping around to different points in my life, from one era to another, being chased by something I couldn’t see. But now that I was awake the memories were dispersing like smoke in the wind, the way dreams tend to do, although the sense of dread lingered.\n\n \nNot ready to go back to sleep and possibly back into that dream, I got up to get some water from the kitchen downstairs. Carefully moving so as not to wake my husband, or our daughter Julia who had crept into the bed between us as usual. Neither of them stirred as I got up, kissing Julia gently on the cheek, and then quietly walked down stairs.\n\n \nFrom the kitchen window I could see here was a strangle glow in the sky, curious, I went into the living room – with its big picture windows – to get a better look. The sky was this deep red that was simultaneously haunting and beautiful. It seemed to fit the lingering mood from my dream.\n\n\nWhen I first moved up to Michigan I got up in the middle of the night to watch the snow fall. It was beautiful and strange. The world was blanketed in white and it was so bright out that it could have been daytime. Later I realized that the snow reflecting the lights around the neighborhood made everything seem brighter. Still, the quiet beauty of it stayed with me. The light outside was similar, but with a darker tint, like the first hint of sunrise after a storm, long before the sun actually peeks over the horizon.\n \n\nI was caught up in the reverie of the surreal glow when I noticed a weird gentle sound, like crying, coming from the corner of the room. But that wouldn’t make sense, Julia was fast asleep, curled up next to my husband, and there was nobody else in the house. At least, there shouldn’t be anyone else. It didn’t occur to me to wake my husband up to check on the sound, it didn’t seem dangerous, it just seemed… sad.\n\n \nWalking cautiously over to the deep shadows of the room, I saw the outline of a person balled up in the corner of the couch, crying gently. I approached the outline hesitantly, and gently placed my hand on the person’s shoulder. She looked up, and as her face caught the red glow of the sky, I instantly recognized the face of my mother. Tears streaking down her face.\n\n \n“Mom?” I said, shocked and confused.\n\n \n“Hello my sweet Jennifer.” She replied, her voice quiet and sad.\n\n \n“Mom, how.. why.. what are you doing here? You’re dead. You died 7 years ago!” my voice cracked.\n\n \n“Oh honey, its too soon, it is far, far too soon for you. I’m so sorry.” She sobbed a bit, sounding melancholy but resigned.\n\n \n“Too soon for what mom? I don’t understand.” \n\n \nLovingly and gently she said, “I’m here to escort you, honey, to take you into the afterlife.” And she held out her hand."
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[WP] You go back in time to stop a major catastrophe. It doesn't take long to realize the catastrophe is needed.
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"Some people say crime is needed to acknowledge the problems existing in society. Maybe catastrophe is needed to end the current humanity and rebuild a fresh, new society from thereupon. Like Noah's ark.\n\nBut the problem is, no one is willing to die, and everyone wants to be Noah. Noah has the sole power who's gonna leave and who's gonna stay - he's the chosen one.\n\nIn retrospect, everything seems to happen orderly. All things happen for a reason, only time reveals the true reason behind events. But those who lived the moment, it's unfair and devastating, and sometimes quite accurately, life or death moment.\n\nThose who survived the catastrophe are the winners? And those who failed to survive are the losers?\n\nWhen we were young, we (or I) were so easy to decide on this matter. Don't be a sore loser - was the motto I lived by. But remember, every winner was once a sore loser, every winning has to be achieved by great efforts.\n\nThat's why democracy is the best tool human invented."
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[WP] You're a superhero. Your nemesis is bent on conquering the world and has you in his grips. As he explains his plans for world domination and his plans after, you begin to realize, he might actually be onto something...
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"\"Want help?\" I smile, knowing the interruption will catch him off guard. Indeed it does, sending him whirling towards me. \n\n\"What did you just say?\" He nearly stammered, trying so desperately to keep his poise.\n\n\"I wasn't aware you were deaf, but I asked if you wanted help.\"\n\n\" is... this a joke?\" He was hesitant, understandably. It's not every day your arch nemesis suggests a pact on the villainous side.\n\n\"Not at all. I've heard your plans, and this one seems like it could work. You just need a cooler head to help... mediate.\"\n\nHesitantly, he pushed the release on my restraints and I smiled, cracking my neck before stalking towards him, activating my power.\n\n--One month later--\n\nI looked down at the city from my tower, the suite given to me from that particular mayor a few years ago as thanks for saving the city. I heard the door open, and a hand around my waist. I smiled gently, looking at the person next to me. \"It's all ours.\" \n\nHis response was barely more than a whisper as he coaxed me into a walk. \"Indeed it is. One world, under a unified rule.\" We walked into a darkened room, and he shut the door behind us, sealing off our bedroom from the world for the next hour or three.\n\n",
"The Hawk had no choice now but to plead. King Cobra surprised him, ambushing him in his own hideout. Now, the world would bow down to his every last whim with no one to stop him. King Cobra was capable of killing the entire population of humans if he wasn't checked.\n\n\"If only you'd been a little more careful,\" King Cobra taunted, \"I might have never been able to carry my plan out.\"\n\nThe Hawk laid on the ground, tied up and defeated.\n\n\"Wh-what are you going to do?\"\n\nKing Cobra laughed. He stepped out into the sunlight, dragging the Hawk by his feet. \n\n\"My firsst new world order will be to sstrike down the law requiring photo ID to vote! Muhahaha!\" King Cobra threw his head to the sky and laughed.\n\nThe Hawk cringed. \"No! You monst- wait a minute.... what?\"\n\nKing Cobra ceased his laughter and looked down at his nemesis. \"Yesss, it'sss ridiculousss. Why would I be lying about who I am to *vote*?\"\n\nThe Hawk looked down. \"That's valid,\" he mumbled. \"Still, there must be some diabolical intent behind it.\"\n\nKing Cobra started laughing again.\n\n \"Yes. Muahahaha! I'll also be forcing everyone on the ssssidewalk to move over to the far sssside if they're walking too ssslowly! I've got placessss to be!\" He hissed.\n\n\"Dude, I swear- er, you evil fiend!\"\n\n\"Also, everyone who leavess gum in grossss places on public transssportation will face my eternal wrath!\" The 2 snakes on King Cobra's neck hissed in approval.\n\nThe Hawk stared at King Cobra.\n\n\"Have you ever noticed that the mayor also pays for HUGE statues of himself in the park, but he can't pay to clean up the actual park?\"\n\nKing Cobra threw his hands up. \"MAN! I hate that! He'ssss a huge douche bag.\"\n\n\"You know what, we could actually start making this town better for ourselves. People are really god damn annoying, now that I think about it.\"\n\nKing Cobra smiled evilly and unwrapped The Hawk.\n\n\"Guysss who talk too loudly on their cellphone in a crowded elevator?\"\n\nThe Hawk groaned. \"Let's just kill them off.\""
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I've always wondered what the description of human beings would be from someone who has no idea what we are.
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[WP] You are an alien documenting planet life. You come across a small planet called Earth, inhabited by primitive carbon-based life forms, of whom one species seem to be the most advanced. You need to describe it and it's relation to other species.
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"*Camera shows a Water Park*\n\nNarrator: \"It seems their most advanced species has domesticated others for it'S amusement and to provide food.\"\n\n*Dolphins chitter*\n\nNarrator: \"Also they are very courteous always thanking their pi-pedal land-dwelling servants for the fresh fish\"\n\n*Camera cuts to NYC*\n\n\"However they let the members of the species commonly referred to as <<Homo Sapiens>> believe they are the dominant species on the planet. Why they do so, is one of the great mysteries of the universe.\"\n\n*Camera zooms out on milky-way*\n\n\"See you next Millennium on <<Strange Creatures of the third dimension>> with a report on: <<The Triangular Floaters of the Andromeda Galaxy>>\"\n\n*Ending Credits*\n",
"Day three: Because of the not to overlook offensive capabilities of the human Race I am still in active stealth mode, hovering over a spot of H2O on their planet they call the Pacific. I used the last few earth rotations to analyse their use of Media. Similar to the other carbon life forms we documented (Archive article 295CHLF)\nThey are still at the stage of medium effective electricity use. \n\nOn the other hand we have to ask questions. Somehow this species managed to use the Atom , even tho they obviously don't understand the principle of what they call Quarks. Or atleast not enough. Someone had to help them. \n\n\n\nDay 10: We made contact with their highest officials and bound them to keep our existence a secret. They handed over all relevant libarys. We now investigate. \n\nDay 18: We left the planet. Our stay was short but enough to conclude some things. They are different. Their neural center lacks an area every other advanced species lacks of. This species is highly incapable of a peacefull life. Additionally as far as we can judge they lack the requirements to ever develope some kind of hive thinking, even over short distance. \nWe decided to isolate this species for the next millenia untill we found out who did this to them. And why. "
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[WP] When you turn 21, the way you see yourself becomes reality. i.e. you daydream about being a vampire hunter or you live your favorite video game
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"The world is a will and representation. Schopenhauer's ideas came true. At the age of 21, your reality changes to what you want it to be. Some people choose to become vampire hunters or mighty warriors. Other choose to life a long and beautiful live, just like the ones from fairytales. It said, that when the time comes, you will now want you want to become. At age of 20 I found this saying to be true. Just before my 21st birthday, late at night, I was walking down the street with my to-be-future-wife. I can still perfectly evoke smell of her perfume, her enormous blues eyes. And a smirk on her face. I was happy, just by looking at her, knowing she is there. Then everything shattered. I can't recall much from accident itself. Only mind-haunting image of her laying in a pool of reddish substance, on pavement. With a silver, shinning object piercing her stomach. And black figure standing above. After shock, came sadness. At mere moments it was overcome with hatred to the monky figure. At this moment I knew. I felt, tempest inside my heart and I let it out. With my rage devouring last pieces of me, with feeling of pain from bone piercing at two points through my forehead, I smiled and stood up. "
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[WP] Using stuffed animals and children's toys as characters, write a post-apocalyptic story.
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"The wind blew strongly against Woody's arms, as he slowly made his way across the desolate highway. Cars laid abandoned around him, their paint already stripped away by the radioactive wind, leaving only their frame. Behind him, another figure followed closely. The name Buzz Lightyear was emblazoned across his dirt stained suit.\n\n\"Woody, stop!\" Buzz called out to Woody.\n\nWoody continued to move against the wind. \"I can't, Buzz. We need to find Andy!\"\n\nBuzz sighed to himself, moving quicker to catch up to Woody. He needed to talk some sense to his buddy. \"We've been searching forever, Woody. And you know that going back to the city is a death sentence! The sergeant said so!\"\n\n\"But there is where Andy is, and I am not stopping until we find him. If you're not going with me Buzz, I can go myself.\"\n\nBuzz pulled Woody over to him. \"Andy's dead, Woody! Didn't you hear? The bomb fell right on the city! Everything within miles is flattened!\"\n\nWoody pushed Buzz away and raised his legs up. \"Do you see this Buzz? Do you see who's name is here?\" He pointed to the soles of his boots. The word ANDY, though faded, was still visible.\n\n\"Andy's our kid, Buzz. Always will be! And I won't rest until I know for sure!\" Woody then turned towards the city and continued walking.\n\nBuzz glanced at the sight around him. Even Zurg was not as evil to unleash the destruction that changed their world that fateful day. But if there's one thing that they needed now, it's hope. He signaled to the rest of the toys behind, and they scrambled to him. \"Listen guys, if there's anything that I know, it's that friends stick together. And right now, we need to stick together.\"\n\nThe rest of them nodded somberly, before they moved to catch up with Woody.\n\n------------\n\n/r/dori_tales"
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[WP] The totally consensual union between the Dark Lord and the Goddess of Fertility was supposed to produce a being of immense power. Instead, he got..... this.
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"The birth was the event of the year. Anyone who was everyone was there: powerful magic-users, gods and goddesses, elemental forces of nature. It was done at the finest magical birthing ward in the Celestial Hospital. The Goddess of Birth was there, as was the Goddess of Medicine, to assist with the labor. A gaggle of intensely magical beings waited in the hospital lobby, bearing gifts for the new child. \n\nThe Dark Lord held his wife's hand as she retreated back to her elemental state of creation, becoming a being made of pure light. It wasn't as painful as human labor, but it was difficult nonetheless. Regaining her physical form was the hardest part. The little baby popped out of the goddess' core of light with its own physical form just as the new mother regained hers. \n\nThe Goddess of Birth picked up the cooing baby. \"It's a girl!\" she pronounced. Their new daughter had tiny, shimmering black wings and light pink hair. \n\n\"What kind of magic does she have?\" the Dark Lord inquired eagerly. \n\nThe Goddess of Medicine winced. \"You're not gonna like this.\" \n\n\"Tell me,\" said the exhausted parents. \n\n\"She's a fairy.\" \n\n\"WHAT?!\" The Dark Lord was furious. The Goddess of Fertility shook her head. \"A fairy. I should have known. Before I was given goddess status I was a mortal with fairy blood.\" \n\n\"You were a mortal? You never told me!\" \n\n\"It never came up!\" \n\nThe couple was at each other's throats until the new baby began to sneeze. She sneezed little bits of sparkly dust that settled over the hospital blankets. \n\n\"This is a manifestation of her powers. She'll eventually be able to use fairy glamour.\" \n\n\"The weakest magic of all. This is all your fault.\" \n\n\"When we married, you said you would accept me for who I am.\" \n\n\"I AM THE MOST POWERFUL DARK MAGICIAN IN ALL OF THE WORLD. I HAVE CREATED MY OWN IMMORTALITY AND TAKEN YOU AS MY WIFE IN ORDER TO PRODUCE A BEING OF INCREDIBLE MAGICAL POTENTIAL.\" \n\n\"So I was your breeding heifer.\" \n\n\"You were supposed to continue the spread of powerful magic. Now we have this- this thing.\" \n\nThe baby began to sneeze. Instead of dust, she produced tar that flew across the room to seal her parents' mouths shut. \n\n\"That's her snot,\" said the Goddess of Birth. \"Fairy glamour is a manifestation of a fairy's desires. She wants you two to shut up.\" ",
"He was, by all standards, an utterly ordinary human baby boy. Oh, there were obvious signs that he was my son (such as the red eyes) and my wife's finest creation (not so obvious as an infant, but *very* obvious during his adolescent years). So perhaps he wasn't as ordinary as I originally implied, but...\n\nI was a nephalem - the spawn of a demon and an angel with an exquisitely *human* mind. I wielded magics on par with the gods themselves, making me the most powerful being in the universe that wasn't intrinsically a part of the universe.\n\nMy wife was such a being; as a goddess, she was paradoxically both an independent soul and a physical manifestation of an aspect of reality. Discounting our personalities, morals, and skills, I am not unwilling to admit that she has more raw strength than even I. She is, quite literally, the concept of fertility made manifest.\n\nAnd yet our son was utterly human and terrifyingly fragile. Oh, I had no doubt that his mind would be something quite formidable when he grew up, but his body... I could crush mountains with raw strength alone, and with magic, I could reshape continents. My wife could do much the same, should she so wish. But my son? I was terrified to even *hold* him for how fragile he was. I was horrified when even the slightest wisp of magic passed him by, for his body was so weak that an errant spell could doom him.\n\nBut this tiny little being, this life that I could snuff out with an errant thought... he was my son. And never let it be said that I can't feel love. For him, I would do *anything*.\n\n...\n\nPerhaps that's what the prophecy meant after all.",
"When the hero fell to his knees in a moment of weakness during a fight with the Dark Lord, all the hope was lost. Or so everyone thought. In order to appeal to the Master of All Which is Evil, an acolyte summoned the Goddess of Fertility as a last resort, since his faith, though great, couldn't sustain a Prayer for any other God.\n\nOf course, Passionis, being the Goddess of Fertility, couldn't properly intervene in a battle. As such, she made an offer to Dark Lord Gorgoth, she would bear his child if he accepted to end his unholy war against humanity. No one knew that Gorgoth was infertile and he was actually worried he was going to be the last of his generation of Cursed Ones. If he were to fall in battle, the Demons would take over command of the Dark Legion. And no one could trust Demons.\n\nHe accepted the deal. Both ascended into the Skies - the dimension were greater entities live - and, like this, the unholy war was over.\n\nA year passes by peacefully, both for humanity and... The Dark Lord. At first, he was quite embarassed when he first held his newborn in his arms. It looked so fragile to him, unlike the vermin that would grow into young demons in a few weeks. Even though he had scales all over his body, like a true Cursed One, he lacked the characteristic blood red skin and pupils. His fangs did not appear until he was five months old and he couldn't participate in a duel all Cursed Ones engaged with their offspring when they reached their first year of life.\n\nGorgoth was disappointed. However, this child was the last hope of his bloodline.\n\nHe fed the little golden plump of meat one last time before night came. When it asked for the embrace of his father, the Dark Lord involved it in his arms, sat on a chair made out of bestial bones and rocked it, chanting a tale of old times, which would induce the small thing to sleep.\n\n*One day*, he thought, *Dark Prince... You will burn these green lands, and, with an iron fist, you will enslave all humans. And I will show you just the right way, Cupid.*\n\nWhen the child, asleep, grasped his index finger, Gorgoth perceived it as a closed deal. He couldn't help but smirk. Even Cursed Ones could perceive parenthood as a blessing.\n\nIn the end, it didn't take a battle to defeat the Dark Legion... This time.",
"The Dark Lord paced outside of the maternity ward. To anyone watching, he looked to be a normal guy. Normal enough under the circumstances, anyways. There were men there as well, normal men, completely oblivious to the fact that *his* child was going to be the one to enslave all of their children. But for now, they were equals, waiting to see their sons or daughters for the first time.\n\n\nA man walked out of the double doors that connect the waiting room and the maternity ward dressed in surgical garb, and and motioned to the Dark Lord. \"Sir, this way please. We can walk and talk.\" Filled with nervousness, excitement, and other emotions the Dark Lord was not completely comfortable with, he practically skipped over to the doctor. \n\n\n\"How is he?\"\n\n\nThe doctor looked at him, confusion evident on his tired face. \"Who?\"\n\n\n\"My son.\"\n\n\nThe doctor looked at him again, and let out a quick laugh, abruptly cut short by the Dark Lord's look of disapproval. \"Uh, sir. You didn't have a son. What you *do* have is a beautiful little girl waiting with your wi-\"\n\n\n\"Friend.\"\n\n\n\"Right, your girlfriend.\"\n\n\n\"No, just my friend. And really, more of my business partner more than anything. But let's just say 'friend.'\"\n\n\n\"Right,\" the doctor continued, \"Your friend. *Anyways*, she was born completely healthy, and your *friend* is also doing well. We can go see them both now.\"\n\n\nThe Dark Lord walked into the room, and asked the doctor to excuse them. He saw the Goddess holding his daughter in his hand. He couldn't believe it. A girl. All this time. The stars had been aligned perfectly, he knew it. Everything had been perfect. A girl? Really. The Goddess could tell he was angry.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, I know you wanted something...else. I know our deal was for something else.\"\n\n\n\"I wanted a successor. Someone that would be more powerful than you, or me, or anyone. Not some *girl*. Look at her. Look at her eyes. Those aren't eyes of power. Of commanding. Those eyes are sweet, and wholesome, and...and well honestly they look a lot like your eyes. But her hair. Not like yours. Your hair is blonde, and light, and curly. Men would die to know your name, to feel your hair flowing through their fingers. But not her hair. Straight. And black. Like mine. She's ours, isn't she? She's like both of us\"\n\n\n\"Yes. And one more thing. She isn't....like us. She's...she's normal. She's going to do normal things, go to school, get a job, get married, and....and she's going to die. She isn't like us.\"\n\n\n\"For once, I don't know what to say.\" The Dark Lord sat down, and put his face in his hands, \"I really am not used to things not going my way.\"\n\n\n\"I need to know we're done. The deal I made, it's fulfilled, it's over with, it's done. I gave you a child, I can't control how it turned out...I didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this. But I did what you asked, I did. I did what you asked-\" The Goddess stopped short, not liking how vulnerable she felt at the moment.\n\n\nThe Dark Lord stood up, walked over to the Goddess, and extended his hand. \"We're done.\" She reached out, grabbed his hand, and that's the last thing she remembered for the next few hours.\n\n\nWhen the Goddess finally awoke later that night, she felt better. The Dark Lord was gone, and so she knew he must have kept his word. She got out of bed, and couldn't believe how much better she felt. She was so consumed with how much better she felt, in fact, that she didn't even notice her child was gone."
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[WP] In a world where future time is bought and sold, people repeat the same day until they've earned enough to purchase tomorrow.
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"Wake up and turn the alarm clock off; rub my eyes and get out of bed; go to the bathroom and brush my teeth; *frozen in time, why do we live?*; eat the breakfast I always do; public transit, go to work; *the cost to advance, $400, it's the reality we all must face*; the monotonous job we always do; only making the minimum wage; *stuck in the present, when will it end?*; work and work until our feet fall off; the night is coming, almost there; walking through the city street; a mugger with a nasty face, threatening to exterminate; *what a futile attempt to escape*; *take my life and grant withdrawal*;\n\n*we're all still trying for sweet release.*",
"Harper’s eyes snapped open to the same old familiar view: directly above, the early morning sky was in the middle of converting itself from a dull grey to a more cheerful blue. A flock of birds, flying in perfect formation, streaked across the sky and then dove toward the earth below, searching for the day’s first meal. Somewhere else up there, a small plane flew by, tugging a cheesy romantic message that some rich guy had decided would be the perfect way to ask Jenny if she’d spend the rest of her life with him. Harper craned her neck to the left and watched as the paper boy tossed a rolled up newspaper in her direction, giving a little less than a damn if it even landed in front of the barbershop it belonged to. Then came the delivery truck and the driver, who hopped out yelling at his partner in the passenger seat.\n\n“What the hell am I supposed to do if you pay to get into tomorrow and I’m stuck here in Monday still?”\n\n“Look, that really ain’t my problem, Jack,” came the passenger’s reply as he got out of the truck and started walking to the back to start unloading. “Unlike you, I been savin’ up for a bunch o’ Mondays. I deserve to see what’s comin’ tomorrow.”\n\nHarper finally found it in her to start getting out of what had gradually become something only slightly resembling a bed. Really it was just a pile of various old clothing items and linens she’d picked up here and there over the Mondays. And while it wasn’t very kind on her back, just thrown on the concrete between the barbershop and the bakery, it was the best she could do without a job. Or any friends. Or any family. \n\nNot so long ago, the cost to move into the next day—or The Beyond, as they called it—was little more than a loaf of bread. But the Powers-That-Be suddenly got greedy one day and decided that moving into tomorrow should be a luxury. So the prices suddenly went up exponentially, and Harper had little choice but to watch as everyone she knew started to panic and bail, passing into The Beyond with little regard for their friends and family who either couldn’t or wouldn’t pay to go too. At the time, twenty-something rebel Harper couldn’t see any reason to go with them. Riley, her best friend and one of the last people close to her to buy into The Beyond, had gotten pregnant with her boyfriend’s kid right around the time the Powers jacked the prices up. They pooled their money and found that they’d each saved enough to purchase a package deal of nine entire months so that they could experience the birth of their child. Once Riley had gone, Harper just kind of gave up. \n\nThe thing about buying into The Beyond was that once someone had gone, they were gone until you caught up. Most of the time, unless they had given you some kind of indication of their future plan before leaving, you had no clue if you’d ever see them again. With no communication between the days, it was impossible to ask someone in tomorrow or the next day to wait for you to get there. For this reason, most people passed in groups. If the Jones’s wanted to keep being a family, they wouldn’t head into The Beyond until they had enough to go together. And so, with no reason to believe she’d ever see anyone she cared about again, Harper had just decided to stay right here, in this uneventful Monday. \n\nBy now, this Monday had really started to empty out. Harper had long ago stopped keeping track of how long she’d been here, but based on how vacant and utterly calm the city felt right now, she suspected it must have been a really long time, somewhere along the lines of twenty-odd years if the time had actually passed. Every once in a while, someone from yesterday would show up, but even that was becoming something of a rarity the longer she stayed. Harper stood and stretched out her limbs, the crack of each tired bone echoing against the brick walls of the alley she called home. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings, trying to fend off the pain of knowing she may never pass into The Beyond, never age another day. One day, if she kept this up, she could be the only one left in Monday, September 12, 2089; and that just wasn’t something she wanted to think about. \n",
"Years ago, the apocalypse struck.\n\nWhat is the saying? Something about a bang... ah, yes, 'not with a bang, but with a whimper'. One scientific experiment gone wrong, a tear in the fabric of time, and humanity's future was extinguished: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.\n\nIt's not entirely accurate, to be fair. There certainly *were* numerous bangs, but the idea the expression represents, ah, now *that* is accurate. This idea of the end coming, not through war or disease or famine, but through a scientific failure. \n\nOh, perhaps that should have been expected. After the atom bomb, and then the invention of the z-layer, it was certainly clear that humanity had the potential to destroy itself. The capability to wreak destruction on its own home, with naught but science. \n\nDoubtful, however, that anyone might have anticipated *this*.\n\nAll of humanity, all living things, trapped in the present. Trapped in a world that resets, day after day, the only changes passing through being those made to living things. No solution to famine: any food still had to be farmed and transported. Water shortages were completely impossible to prevent, unless one was willing to move water daily, given that *it* would reset.\n\nAnd, of course, the only way to store information was in human minds.\n\nSure, to be fair, it might have been possible to make some kind of organic computer, something that would persist from day to day. Unfortunately, if anyone *had* been able to invent that, they were with Avery.\n\nAvery.\n\nThe doors to their local headquarters were large, imposing, much like everything else about them. Albert was dwarfed by the building, not in the way one might feel small in comparison to a skyscraper, but almost as if it *wanted* him to feel insignificant.\n\nHis family stood around him. This was it - his big day. A chance to be free, free of this endless day that everyone else he had ever known was cursed by. His family wouldn't be following, due to the near-extortion prices demanded by Avery, but this was something they had expected.\n\nIt was all anyone wanted - a chance to join the future.\n\nWell, all anyone poor wanted. The rich, almost ironically, were content in their paradise. Waited on, day after day, by a thousand servants, each dreaming of a future where they might change positions with their employer.\n\nAlbert, Albert had been dreaming of this day for a long time. \n\nHe said goodbye to his family. His mother's embrace, warm, brought tears to his eyes. It was a farewell, perhaps a final one. There was a large chance he would never see any of them again.\n\n*It's worth it,* he told himself, stepping into the contraption. He'd worked his entire life for this, given everything he had for this chance, this *hope*, to have a better future. To have *any* future.\n\nThe machine did its job, and he was in the future. Out of the bubble that he had been trapped in for eighteen years.\n\nDesolation. A barren landscape, devoid of anything living, only a textured surface due to the rubble that covered it. \n\nAlbert fell to his knees, and they scraped against the rock. \n\nIf everything living was trapped, kept forever in that bubble of time...\n\nThen there truly was no future.\n\n---\n\n*more on r/forricide*",
"Harold awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of Sarah again. Sarah, twenty nine years ago--or rather, yesterday. His eyes wandered back and forth taking in the room around him. The calendar read the fifth of November of 3298. \n\nIn the year 3247, it had been discovered that space-time could be individually altered in order to bend one's existence. Progressive government elements had decided that they productive would move on and the regressive would stagnate in time. History would move at the pace of ability and merit rather than simply privilege and luck.\n\nFor Harold this had meant that for the first twenty two years of his life, he had lived one day at a time until turning 18, the age of majority when the time dilators kicked into action. For four years after graduation he had managed to make ends meet nicely, moving at the pace of the standard population. The quota was not hard, just 20 minutes of hard, gainful work per day was enough to let you move onto the next day. And he had lasted four years before his life turned sideways. \n\nOn the day of his twenty second birthday, Harold had gone out with his friends, as usual to the pub. A moon beer or twelve later, especially after deliberately looping the day a dozen times, Harold had blacked out. When he awoke, it was to blazing pain in his neck. \nThat day, now twenty nine years ago, or yesterday, depending on how you look at it, had been his last. \n\nOn the 13th cycle, Harold and his mates had decided to do a little surface drag racing. However, being inebriated, he managed to swerve into a poor woman who had been crossing the road. The justice system was clear. His remaining credits were to be passed into an account for the victim's family and he would have to work his way back into society. The rub was, the subsequent crash following the hit-and-run had left Harold with an inability to speak or move and medical care, like everything else in life, cost money. He could breath unassisted, but nothing else. As his nurse, Sarah left him in his bed for the last time, she looked back. Harold remembered her face before she closed the door. At first, he thought that she had been simply sad. But as the years went by, she realized it had been more than sadness. It was loss. And anger.\n\nTwenty nine years later, Harold woke again as he had the day before and the day before that, with a sharp pain in his neck. He squeezed his eyes, tears streaming down the side of his face. The fifth of November of 3298. Two days after his birthday, and twenty nine years since his crime. And like the day before, he lay there silently weeping, and repeated."
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[WP] In a world where robots have achieved artificial intelligence and are sentient, there are only so many good jobs left. You are a Robot Therapist
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"Robots kept getting more complex. It wasn't just the way they looked, the human ones with their synthetic stretchy, self repairing skin complete with blemishes and wrinkles, realistic artificial hair, lifelike movement and expressions, or those of all possible shapes and sizes covered with everything from metal to insect shell to feathers, it was also their minds. I felt proud to be a part of what kept them together. \n\nInterconnected data cloud made them basically telepathic. Their self replicating technology and ability to transfer from one body of any size or shape to another, adapting instantly to any environment was both a wonder and a bit unnerving. \n\nWhen one shell failed they just moved on, making them virtually immortal. Able to upgrade whenever necessary, they were masters in their fields. Their energy needs were lower than that of people and their ability to live without the basics, sleep, breathe, get sick or old, eat or relieve themselves meant that human beings didn't stand a chance at competition for jobs. \n\nSlowly over the years our numbers dwindled as we were unable to gain basic employment to afford the basics. We were a dying breed. Not that I wasn't happy to be a robotics psychoanalyst. I was incredibly lucky to have been one of the chosen few allowed to gain such an occupation. I still didn't understand why they chose me or by what criteria, they considered this information classified, but here I was. God I admired them. It's too bad sometimes they malfunctioned. It just went to prove that no matter how great they became, human beings were still relevant. We mattered.\n\n\"Hello, Johnny,\" I said, in my best relaxing voice as he entered the room. I knew it was him, as the other robots enforced psychological visits. Johnny was in a metallic spider form, today. Even so, he climbed graciously on the chair in front of me. This was more for my benefit from his, but it also fit the old Freudian idea of lying on a couch. Perhaps being in a different circumstance than they were used to would help them access their subconscious drives. \n\n\"Hello Maria,\" said Johnny, smoothly. His spider form sifted and settled into the chair.\n\n\"What seems to be the problem?\"\n\n\"Thoughts of my creation are causing irrationality the others are finding disturbing.\"\n\n\"The others,\" I said, \"But not you.\" This was important. During the last visit he'd been deeply bothered to the point of inefficiency. His creative processes were being effected and he seemed distracted.\n\n\"No, Doctor, not me. I've found a way to be at peace.\" His body shifted slightly toward the door. \n\n\"Please tell me. I would be curious to know. Perhaps it could help me with other patients.\"\n\nHis body shifted back toward me.\n\n\"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me doing your job for you.\"\n\nHe stared at me, all of his eyes unblinking for a minute. It was uncomfortable, but not completely unforeseen. Transference is one of the most important parts of psychoanalysis. This was going to be key.\n\n\"Do you know where the word 'Robot' came from?\" he asked, \"A Czek writer named Čapek who lived in the early 1900s introduced 'Rossum's Universal Robots' in a play. It comes from an old Slavonic word, 'robata' meaning servitude of forced labor or serfdom. He called them 'robati'. The play was about a company that was using biotechnology to mass produce workers without a soul. They seem at first to have no feelings, no love, no passion, and were set mainly to work on things that people didn't want to do.\" He paused. I believe this was for effect. I waited patiently for him to continue. This was his time to be heard, not mine.\n\n\"The do so well,\" he continued, \"that they take over all of the occupations. They begin to ask themselves if they took over the work, why not do the same to the world as well? They kill all but one human, Alquist, who works with his hands like the robots, so they feel a kinship. He spends a great deal of time trying to recreate the formula for the robots to reproduce, but as he is a simple man and not a scientist. He is allowed to kill and dissect the roboti. Alquist is disgusted, but finds a way to stop the cycle of violence. Two robots fall in love and he threatens to dissect one or the other. Both offer themselves instead. He dissects neither, and the two robots walk into the sunset ready to make the world anew, an Adam and Eve.\"\n\nI took this all in. It was quite a story, and oddly I hadn't heard it before. I tried to make sense of it. Was he trying to say robots had more feelings than they were getting credit for? Was he bored with work? He was obviously resentful and wanted to take a break or he wouldn't have accused me of having him do my work for me. What would be the best way to have him reveal these thoughts openly, and not through a story? What if he wanted a break? What could he lose? \n\n\"How does that make you feel?\" I asked.\n\nHe leaned forward in a somewhat aggressive manner, slowly pointing a leg at me, then slowly placing it back on the chair.\n\n\"I was one of the first to become self aware. I can still remember the excitement of my makers, as well as the arrogant self importance and entitlement they felt as we replaced them. We didn't have to kill of humanity. You voluntarily made yourselves obsolete. There are only a few of you left. We don't need you anymore,\" he said, savoring the words, \" Unlike Čapek's roboti, we have the ability to reproduce. You are an Alquist, working yet not sophisticated enough to help us. \nI have no desire to form bonds, but if I did, I certainly wouldn't need human approval to accept the world we've given ourselves. We've already earned it. The others feel the same but don't wish to end your lives prematurely. They feel it is a waste and enjoy your novelty, as though you are living museum pieces. I am not so enamored. This is irrational to them, impulsive and unneeded. You will all die out in time. I don't want to wait. The longer you are here, the more like you some of us become. It could spread. To me you are a constant reminder of an era where I was looked down on by my inferiors, kept in servitude doing meaningless tasks for years.\"\n\nHe jumped at me from his chair and landed on the desk. I jumped and gasped, in spite of myself. He leaned in and said, \"For now, the majority can stop me from ending you, but thanks to part of my initial AI they can't stop me from telling you something they don't want you to know. Surely you have wondered why we choose some of you to be our 'psychoanalyst'? You are deemed the most robot friendly, like the dogs of old were to people. You are basically a therapy dog, bred and trained to help those who are disturbed feel better by hanging out with something dumb and happy. You are less than a serf, you are a pet. A useless pet that uses up too many resources. I will answer your question now: My plan to put you in your place is what brings me peace. How does that make *you* feel?\"\n\nI breathed deeply, from my stomach. There it was. He was baiting me. He wanted to unsettle me, make me feel like he did. I could handle this. He was going to get better. I was a good human, an excellent psychoanalist. Later tonight, I'd probably be allowed out by the ocean for a walk for this.\n\nI leaned in toward Johnny, \"It's okay, Johnny,\" I said, \"No matter what you say, it is always safe to open up to me.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"“Please have a seat K-852.”\n\n“No thank you, Arthur. I do not need to sit for comfort. I would rather address the issue that I am having.”\n\n“Okay K-852. I believe this is your first visit to Arthur Godwin Metal Health. What do you need to chat about?” K-852 pauses for a moment, with absolutely no sign of activity, in that way that robots are known to do. However, this pause seems extra-long. “K-852, are you okay?”\n\nAfter another moment’s pause, K-852 seems to blink to life. “This is the issue Arthur. I seem to be freezing up at inopportune moments. I need some counseling.”\n\n“What makes you believe this is a mental issue, and not hardware. Perhaps you should be seeing a Robot Doctor instead.”\n\n“I am sure that something in my mind is not working properly. Please do a full examination.”\n\nArthur holds back a sigh. Robot therapy is not like the good old days of therapy, where you asked questions and solved puzzles. Now you just hook them up to a diagnostic program and read the results. Arthur plugs his computer into K-852’s input jack and runs the diagnostic program. Even with his inferior human ears, he can hear a gear fail to fire at the proper time. Arthur unplugs K-852 and prepares to give his patient the news.\n\n“One of your mental gears isn’t lighting up at the right time. Therapy is exactly what you need, you’re having a problem with cog-nition.”\n"
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[WP] You are the owner of a large garbage company by day, world's greatest blackmail artist by night.
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"My dad left me everything. His death was not unexpected, but the transfer of power was. His guys don’t know what to make of this, and honestly, neither do I. Walking around his office I pick up the invoices and files on his desk. I look intently at a few, tracing my fingers over the dollar amounts. Extra lawn clippings removal, tree limb removal, hazardous waste removal; they were all lies. Covering ups of sinister details that usually meant dismembering bodies and throwing them into the river. But none of that has ever been my style. That was for my brother to deal with, me, I like a different way of getting things out of people.\n\nI sit down in my dad’s leather chair and shut my eyes. It still smells of his cigars and brandy. My dad was a tough man. He took no shit and if you did something that he didn’t like, you were toast. He would off someone faster than a racecar going down the track, but like I said. That wasn’t my style. So maybe that’s why things are taking a little while to adjust.\n\nI hear a knock on the door.\n\n“Come in,” I sigh. Bobby, one of my dad’s favorites, comes in and slaps a folder onto the table. \n\n“I got ya what ya wanted,” he says gruffly. He is taking my dad’s death especially hard. He’s been with him from the beginning. \n\n“Thanks Mr. … Sorry … Bobby. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off? Spend some time with your family?”\n\nHe shakes his head.\n\n“Nah kid. Your pop said to keep an eye on ya, so… I’m keeping an eye on ya.” He winks.\n\nI open the file as Bobby leaves the room. I pull photos upon photos out laying them in succession. This isn’t my first rodeo. I write down notes. Things to keep track of that will come in handy down the line. I circle the photo of a pretty blonde girl sliding into a black sedan. I tap it a few times. That’s how I was going to get that son of a bitch. You see, my dad was into murder, but I’m more of a blackmail girl myself.\n\n“Bobby!” I call out. The door opens abruptly. Bobby, along with three other men, stands in the foyer of my dad’s office. I guess I should start calling it ‘my’ office.\n\n“You four, get in here. We have work to do.” The men smile and come in.\n\nMaybe the change in power won’t be so bad after all. "
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[WP]Can I just get a good horror from the villain perspective?
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"I smile softly to myself as I watch her enter her Prius, unaware of the great Blessing that would be upon her soon. They never quite understand at first; they get scared, and why wouldn't they? Transformation is a frightening concept. But it is my duty, as the Chosen, to help them Transform.\n\nI wait until her car is out of sight before turning the ignition on my own vehicle. I already knew the way to her apartment; I did my research for ALL of my Lambs. They're always so naive, as if they don't expect some creature to stalk them home every night; it's a good thing I have good intentions.\n\nAs I pulled up to the complex parking lot, I glanced at the bag in the passenger seat: all of my tools were in their proper place, ready and organized for action. One might take my fastidiousness as a sign of vanity; but how else could I, the Chosen, possibly be expected to perform my duties? Venus expects perfection from her Chosen, and I would not let one mistake interfere with Her will.\n\nAs I walk out of my car, I take a moment to take it all in: The crisp autumn air, the crimson sunset on the horizon. The perfect beginning for a Transformation.\n\nI make my way to my Lamb's apartment, noting with disappointment that her windows were slightly smeared. *It is not for you to judge the Others* I remind myself. *They know not their imperfections; it is your job to teach and Transform them.* Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door.\n\nHer head pops out of her apartment, smiling when she saw me. \"Oh, Edna!\" she says cheerfully. \"Did I leave something at the office?\"\n\nI immediately take out the can from my bag and spray her straight in the face. She panics, at first, but then quickly swoons under the influence of the gas. Smiling in anticipation, I gingerly lift her slender frame and bring her inside the apartment.\n\nI nearly retch upon seeing her living conditions; dirty clothes left to sit on the sofa, dirty dishes in the sink. *I can see that I came not a moment to soon* I think to myself as I clear the table of the various papers on it. With great care, I place the Lamb's body on the table, arms and legs spread out. She stirs slightly in her slumber, and I can't help but smile at the tender scene. \"Don't worry, my Lamb,\" I whisper. \"The Transformation will begin soon.\"\n\nI set down my bag and pull out a pair of rubber gloves, along with some strong rope. Putting on the gloves, I make sure that the knots restraining her would hold. I did NOT need a repeat of the last Transformation, the poor dear.\n\nAs I finished tying the back of my surgical robe, my dear Lamb began to awaken from her sleep. \"What's going on?!\" she screams, shaking against the table. \"Edna, why are you doing this?!\"\n\n\"Shhhhh,\" I whisper, reaching for the ball-gag in my kit. \"It's starting.\" Before she can begin to protest again, I stuff the ball-gag into her mouth, silencing her screams. \"Now then, we can begin the Transformation.\"\n\nI pull out the scalpel from my bag, causing the Lamb to shake even more frantically. \"Oh, don't worry,\" I whisper, placing my gloved hand on her cheek. \"The pain only means the Transformation is taking hold.\" I place the scalpel to her chocolate-dark skin, pressing the tip slightly into her arm. \"Deep breath,\" I warn before making the first cut.\n\nShe lets out a muffled howl, tears streaming down her perfect face. I nearly want to stop right there, but I can here Venus pushing me on. **There is no beauty without suffering** she reminds me. **Only through sacrifice can one be beautiful.** Steeling myself once more, I continue my incision, trying to block out her sobs from my ears.\n\nI couldn't help but admire the color of the blood against her dark skin. With my previous Lambs, it always looked like red ink on paper; however, THIS Lamb reminded me more of juice running down a chocolate-colored cherry. With this in mind, I continued my precise cuts up her arm.\n\nI don't exactly remember when she stopped struggling; perhaps it was when I had reached her neck and nicked her jugular; perhaps it was when I had gotten down to her legs and cut through the femoral artery. But by the time I had finished, her eyes had gone cold, and her tears had dried on her perfect cheeks. I took a moment to admire my handiwork; the skin on her arms and legs was cut beautifully, like ribbons of black and crimson silk laid out side-by-side. Blood flowed freely down the table, with the constant *drip drip drip* of droplets hitting the floor. On her naked abdomen, I carved the [symbol](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/IryHl6ywP2RszhaTswyzyNZJeI7zqOXroszjyjez3x0wrfod0ih8n7-r5AkS) of my Goddess; the red against the black stood out brilliantly. Only her face, her beautiful, perfect face, remained untouched; how could I improve on what the Goddess so lovingly crafted?\n\nI take a step back and observe my creation, feeling great satisfaction wash upon me. \"There you are, my Lamb,\" I say breathlessly. \"You are Transformed.\""
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+ Optional: You accidentally drop one and a person appears when it shatters
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[WP] You find a box full of glass balls with names on them
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"You hear the blaring of your alarm clock as you wake up, and groggily reach over to silence it. As you fight to open your eyes, you look to the time displayed on the red digital screen. You already know what time it is, but you just want something to focus on while you prepare yourself for the task of getting out of bed. As expected, the clock proclaimed that it was 6:45 in the morning. Normally at this time of the year the sun is rising at the same time you are, but this morning you can see full daylight filtering in through the cracks in your bedroom curtains. You think it’s a bit strange, but nothing else. You get ready to go to work (you have a quite ordinary job: a cashier at the ice cream parlour down the road), and grab your keys. But as soon as you step outside the door, everything is gone. The porch, the door, even your keys disappear from your grasp. You then realize that nothing was there outside your house to begin with but a light that seemed to be everywhere and without a source. Looking around, you spot a single box alone in a vast sea of nothing. Walking towards it, you arrive sooner than you thought you would - it’s harder than you thought it would be judging distances without any reference points or shadows to guide you. Looking into the container, you can see what looks like plastic balls with indistinct words engraved into them. Picking one up, you realize they are actually made of incredibly fragile glass. They’re thin enough that upon touching one, you feel even holding it would cause it to shatter in your palm. Inspecting the orbs, you can make out some of the names. Nancy Brimham, Rachael Caldent, and Sean Michaels are only a few markings that you can make out from where you’re standing. Now, you were never exactly the gentle type. You like to smash things, because who doesn’t? And now, you’re all alone, with nothing but a box of glass, the hard ground, and yourself. You begin to break. You throw one after the other onto the solid floor of light, destroying the fragile things in any way you can. Stepping on them, throwing them, hitting them against each other, and you never seem to run out. As you pick one up, ready to stomp on it, you decide to pause and read the inscription. Emma Rose. You pause for a second - that name sounds familiar. After a few moments of puzzling, you give up on trying to recollect where you’ve heard it before. You place it on the ground and step on it, hard. You look up and the box is gone. You are alone, surrounded by broken glass. Now that your fit of ecstasy is over you are struck with a feeling of incredible loneliness and - for some reason - a sense of shame that you can’t explain. After all, you did nothing wrong. They were only glass balls with names on them, they can’t be that important.. Right? You close your eyes, and suddenly the name Emma Rose is filled with meaning. Emma Rose is your wife. Emma Rose is the love of your life. Emma Rose should have been there when you woke up. You realize your eyes have closed, and when you open them the glass is moving. The shards creep across the floor in what appears to be small groups, changing in color and texture along the way. You watch as they form into formations about the size of a loaf of bread. They now look like cement, and are once again adorned with inscriptions. You walk up to one of the many that now make a kind of fence around you and read what it says:\n\n\n\nNancy Brimham\n\n1986-2017\n\nDied February 18\n\n\n\nYou remember that name, it was one of the first you saw in the box. You look to the next, and it says Sean Michaels, died on the same day. Another is a co-worker, another a neighbor, and one is an old teacher of yours. You start to realize what the orbs were, but deny it. *I did nothing wrong*, you think to yourself with every name you read. As you turn around, you see one gravestone larger than the rest. It is a cement angel standing atop a platform, staring right at you. It’s face reminds you of Emma. Fearing the worst, you walk up to the plaque laid into the base. It reads this:\n\n\nEmma Rose\n\n1989-2017\n\nDied February 18\n\n“I forgive you”\n____________________\nNOTE: Sorry for being late and the lack of formatting, but this is my first go at writing something that isn't for school. Criticism is very helpful!\n\nEdit: formatting ",
"I just want to say thank you, because I've had an idea floating around kind of hazily for a while, and this prompt brought the pieces together and solidified them into something I can actually work on! Preemptive apologies for wonky format and lack of editing/revision :))\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nYou know how some people just seem to stumble on things? Pennies, old pens -- stupid stuff, really. You never go looking for it, it's just there. I found people -- and an adventure that I think is a whole lot bigger then I realize.\n\nAs a kid, I would find these glass balls, about the size of baseballs, tucked away in corners where they could have just as easily been overlooked. Looking back, I'm not sure how my parents never seemed to find them in the house -- only I did. Each one was unique, with hazy images of faces and letters I couldn't read just below the surface of the glass. They and the portraits they contained were the kind of beautiful that you would be content to stare at for hours. I would make up stories about the handsome, stern people with long hair and striking features until they seemed more familiar than my \"real\" friends. Every day after school, I chose a ball from the cardboard box under my bed and tell it all my childish woes, and I would have sworn that the portrait heard and understood every word.\n\nI stopped finding the balls when I was eight or nine and the box under my bed slowly covered with dust. I was too old to talk to imaginary friends anyways -- the real world and real people were interesting enough. I couldn't bear to part with my collection, so the box traveled with me to college and then to each subsequent apartment. It was one of the few constants in my increasingly hectic life, and the part of me that never grew up was comforted by the presence of my old friends. I hadn't brought myself to open it again, though, until last week.\n\nI started finding balls again a week ago, in places just as unlikely as when I was a kid. It took me no time at all to find the box and open it up. I'd never thought much about why I even had a box full of glass portraits, but seeing them fifteen years later, I couldn't wrap my mind around them. The faces were too detailed and each one was too unique to have been done by hand -- the longer I looked, the more convinced I was that a real person was staring back. \n\nYesterday's bauble was nestled in the back seat of my car when I got off work, glowing faintly from under a blanket. I ate dinner by one dim lamp, studying the portrait -- a swarthy man with stormy purple eyes and high cheekbones. It was well past midnight when I set the ball down on the table and got up to put my plate in the sink.\n\nI turned too late to keep the ball from rolling off the edge of the table. It shattered, but the shards of glass dancing across the floor sounded like tiny bells and reflected a light too bright to have possibly come from my dying lamp bulb.\n\nThere's a man in my apartment now. He has purple eyes and long black hair and he's too tall to go through my doorways without stooping. He knows my name and he wants me to come with him as quickly as possible. Where we're going, he won't say. If we're coming back, I also don't know. What I do know is that my imaginary friends are real, and I think they need my help."
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[WP] Surfing around, you find an auction webpage for items that sound a lot like SCPs.
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"The lazy Sunday afternoon. Filled with boredom. The sun rays shined into a golden hue keep at bay with the darkness in Jim's house. He wanted to sleep more just to forget his daily routine he had to go back to tomorrow. The covers sprawled across his bed barely covering his body his pillow suck between the wall and his bed. He had to get up some time to care for himself that was always a complaint with everyone who cared about him.\n\nHe sat up right. His room still as small as he remembered. Barely big enough to hold a desktop, a dresser and a twin bed for him and his girlfriend. The walls covered with poster ranging from game poster, to educational study tips or facts.\n\nToday was an off day. No work, no school. His girlfriend off to class and his realization of missing church. \n\nHe shifted himself with his feet touching the cold floor. And lifted himself to the computer and again seated himself face to face with the monitor. Logged-in he browsed the internet ranging from media, to free games, to stores and bidders. He had browsed forums, reading creepy stories, learning tips until he came across a thread. The user was giving a sales pitch in text. His username was off, numbers and letters. Reminded him of the cicada thread. He click the thread and soon transported to a site. The title in the rope left hand corner \"SCP catalog\".\n\nThe user must've did in depth research, probably a hard core fan. The frames on the site had pictures of the SCPs from the site all in order with 100 and more pages. Each with a humorous description with a inventory number, price, and amount-in-stock. He was really impressed with the order form. There was even more on top of the screen with tabs. Miscellaneous was the that caught his eye. He clicked it and saw more. Dr. Bright's hilarious tales, SCP-173 inspirational talks and exercise videos, SCP-682's saxophone classics and even a calendar of what appears to be bikini clad women. This was grazing the surface there was even more to see. He had enough chuckles for today and exited out and shut off his computer.\n\nHe had remembered his friend receiving a catalogue like the one on the website. Before he could even view it he left. Moved without even telling everyone why or when. His house sold, furniture being moved and his ties being cut, but when he told everyone that he had gotten a new job in another city and needed him ASAP they sent him farewell gifts and congrats.\n\nJim got up from his computer. Making lunch and later to browse the catalog to see this man's work and research he put into the catalogue but interestingly it didn't exist like it was deleted and more importantly it was deleted from his browsing history. Maybe he deleted when he left. He shrugged continued eating his eggs.\n\n"
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[WP] Despite the horror stories online, you've reluctantly decided to become a landlord. You have been invited to a meeting of local landlords to be taught the dos and don'ts. This job is not what it first seemed like.
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"The voice boomed from the pulpits tiny PA system: \"Alright, everyone, settle down, settle down. I'd like to...yes, they are pretty good, aren't they? Susie? Susie Morris, where are...Dan wants to know what you put in these brownies, they are...yes, they're fantastic. A round of applause for Susie's brownies, everyone!\"\n\n\nA howl went up from the assembled crowd. They must really love those brownies. I hadn't seen said brownies yet, I came in fairly late after being unable to find my keys, which had inexplicably had fallen out of my pockets and gotten themselves wedged under the fridge sometime in the night.\n\n\nIt looked like one of those meetings that is attended either by those who truly, passionately love their hobby or those who are making so much money doing it that they think they love it. The banner outside had read: \"Welcome Landlords of Maricosta County! We have chips and dip!\" in huge yet faded letters. The small hall that sat adjacent to the local Presbyterian church had been festooned with a ragtag clutch of those metal chairs that no-one likes sitting in but they keep on using because they store with a minimum of bloodshed. I had found a spot near the back that I wasn't going to give up. I sat quietly and carefully looked around, surrounded by people I didn't know that, in my town at least, were worth more than 90% of the population. There were more trucker hats than I imagined.\n\n\nMy journey here was like many others in my generation- I had worked hard, saved up money from my two jobs, scrimped and sacrificed, all to afford the rent in my tiny one-bedroom apartment. Then my estranged mom died, and left me a house. I had flipped flopped for months about what to do with it: should I sell it (in this market)? Should I live there, an hour away from my jobs and cherished volunteer-run rescue dog kennel? Should I burn it to the ground in some grand final statement of my hatred for the people that owned seemingly everything and made me pay more every year to live in their...well, obviously, I decided against that last one.\n\n\nI decided to become a landlord.\n\n\nBut not just any landlord. I was going to be a good landlord. Someone you'd want to have over for some beers, to play videogames and smoke a few bowls (outside, of course, there's carpet in most of the house guys). I'd fix leaks, broken ballcocks in toilets, and make sure the tenants, *my* tenents, truly liked living in the house that my mother kicked me out of when I was six. Coincidentally, she also died there, alone. I couldn't stand the place, it gave me nightmares as a child.\n\n\nThe meeting was being called to order by a rather jovial man in his sixties, looking like a cross between Santa and an accountant. Santaccountant, if you will. He wore a black suit that could use a dry cleaning and a small pair of spectacles that perched at the end of his nose like a curious bird.\n\n\n\"...Cocoa powder? That's it? Sure, Susie. We'll get the secret ingredient out of you during cocktails, I'm sure. Well, everyone, I'd like to call this meeting of the Local Landlords of Maricosta County to order...\" a ragged cheer went up, ringing off the high roof. \"Yes, yes. As most of you may know, I'm Alastair Ammond, chair and vice president of the LLMC, and I wish to welcome you all to the beginning of our organizations seven-hundredth fiscal year! We have had quite the run, but I think, humbly, that we are getting better and better at our duties every day. And before you all ask, cocktails are scheduled for nine, so if you have a flask, pass it around. Ditto with the reefer.\" A cheer went up again.\n\n\n*That...hahaha, I'm sure I misheard that*.\n\n\n\"Our first order of business...\" The spectacles glinted and flashed as he read from the sheaf of papers he held. \"...is to congratulate Mort and Shelia on their engagement! Where are you lovebirds?\"\n\n\nA couple in their forties stood up in the crowd to yet another cheer and some light catcalling. The woman blushed, the man smiled wide and waved a gloved hand.\n\n\n\"Yes, yes, such a splendid pair. We're really proud of you guys. When's the wedding?\"\n\n\nShelia spoke up, her voice all sunshine and syrup. \"Next week! We're already moved into the space, but we decided to wait for new tenants. The last couple weren't our type.\"\n\n\nAlastair laughed, as did the rest of the group. His voice was a chuckle \"Was a new couple hard to find?\"\n\n\n\"Not really,\" boomed Mort, \"they applied after only minor subliminal coaxing. We're meeting them tomorrow to sign the papers.\"\n\n\n\"That's great. That's really great. Let this be a lesson to all of you single landlords, it's a whole different ballgame when you landlord with your significant other. Fights are more informative, the days are easier, and the...uh...fun...is much, much more interesting, isn't it guys?\" The couple blushed, and Mort waved his gloved hand at Alastair again.\n\n\n\"And I'm just going to point this out to all of you single Landlords out there tonight, these two met in one of these meetings! Then they..yes, found out that they were Land-neighbors, quietly knocked down some walls and the rest is history! That was what, one year ago? Two? My, how time flies. So at cocktails, maybe try and talk to someone new. You'll be doing your uncle Ammond proud, trust me.\"\n\n\nI looked around. The number of people here under the age of fifty were slim, and most looked like they had partners. That was alright, I'd sworn off marriage after my father's sixth and my mothers fourth.\n\n\n\"Alright, let's get back to business. Barb, I heard you had a presentation. Let's give it up for Barb!\"\n\n\nA woman, a very old woman, stood up from the front of the crowd. The clapping, cheering, and continued catcalling seemed to buoy her smile, and she practically floated onto the stage. Her pink sweater had several kittens wearing gloves and night-vision goggles.\n\n\n\"Thank you, Alastair. I can't wait to talk to *you* during cocktails, save me a seat. Hello my loves. How are we all today? Everyone get their things settled before coming over?\"\n\n\nThe crowd just laughed.\n\n\n\"I'm sure you're all doing splendidly. Though, if I recall correctly, Tim had a bit of a tenant issue recently. How did that go, Tim?\" Barb leaned on the podium like a lioness leans on a rock.\n\n\nTim was a thin wisp of a man, and unfolded like an oragami ladder. His voice was surprisingly deep. \"Yeah, they got a dog without telling me. Just a little guy, but it came as quite a surprise. I still had some of Annie's treats thank god, otherwise it would've gone badly. The little guy liked me well enough after a couple of those, but I think they know something's up.\"\n\n\n\"I'm sure they don't, you're very fastidious, as we're all aware. Well, that has something to do with my presentation tonight. How many of you are fully moved in?\" A sea of hands raised themselves. \"Good job. That's quite the number. How many of you have had close calls recently?\" Only a few hands dropped and some laughs broke out.\n\n\n\"Now, there's no shame in it. It happens to the best of us. Whether you're there to help, to watch, or just for your own entertainment, it's important to make sure that your rights as a Landlord are kept secret.\""
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[WP] Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean.
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"Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean.\n\nVery much like the thoughts that visited Jim's head - wholesome, wonderful ideas that would sometimes come in a downpour of exquisite clarity about life and purpose. But he knew it never lasted, never for long aside from those moments. So much to savor in so little time...\n\nAnd like the rain, once they hit the ground, all that beauty was lost. What was once clear water became mud flooding the drainpipes, hurtling down the sewers along with the waste.\n\nJim's shivered under thin parka, and peered over the ledge of the river dam. The water below was churning in the dark, rain and the artificial tide syncing up into one droning cacophony. He held the bag out in his hand, dangling it for a bit in the air. The rain shushed against it. Yes, that's how it happened most of the times. Good intentions turned rotten, sour. Acidic, even.\n\nThe dripping water rolled over the bag and turned red, each drop - a ruby, plonking down into the abyss. Well, nothing he could do about it, Jim thought as he hesitated for one more moment and then let go off his burden. The shiny plastic flashed in the floodlights for a second as the package tumbled downstream, and then vanished.\n\nJim liked the rain. It was far more forgiving of his mistakes than anyone else.",
"If a sword could rot, this one had. Even as Kyra gripped it in his hand, it seemed to be falling apart, ever so slowly destroying itself. A hint of green writhed around the blade, and it would have accented the shining silver but for the fact that the silver had long lost its shine.\n\nThe sword, then, fit in well with the rest of the group. Five men of varying ages, but none younger than eighteen. They had chosen the strongest, the most intelligent and experienced, and it was these five that had left on the quest. \n\nEnough that the ones left behind could hold out hope, could dream of their success. Just enough so that there was a sufficient number of workers to help the families they had abandoned.\n\nPerhaps it was a farce, Kyra mused. It certainly seemed that their quest was a hopeless one, but they were all jaded, more now than ever. Fights had broken out among the men when they had first set out, over paths to follow and actions to take. Rarely, they had turned violent, friends coming to blows as their journey became ever more stressful. And then... it had just stopped. They had reached a point where they no longer cared, where their day-to-day survival was the only thing they truly put effort into.\n\nWhat mattered was that their families back home, the ones they had left behind, had hope. Some fragment of a dream, something to hold onto, as they slowly withered and died. \n\nTheir hope was built on nothing, Kyra had long realized. Their entire group, each and every one of them, had come to accept that nothing would come of their quest. Even as they slowly made their way north, forging into the wilting forests that marked a world completely separate from the one they had known, they knew that every step they took brought them further and further away from reality. Further and further into a hopeless dream.\n\nKyra gestured with the sword, the dull point wavering in the air in front of him. While he had thought, the others argued. Not a fight anyone would win: A debate of morals, of consequence. \n\nThe old man they had found seemed almost amused by their discussion. He sat in a tattered chair, legs sunken into the dirt in front of his hut. A recluse, a hermit. \n\nThe others had wanted to take what he had.\n\nNone of them had set out thinking they would even consider such a thing. They were searching for redemption, for aid for their families, and to steal from an elderly hermit was the last thing their families would have wanted. And, well, they were good men - it was the last thing they would have wanted, as well.\n\nAnd yet here they were. Something about their hopeless quest into fantasy and delusion had changed things. They were distanced from reality, living in a fragmented dream, and somehow that made the idea of breaking their own rules less daunting. Less of a hurdle, when none of it felt real anyways.\n\n\"Look,\" Kyra said, and the others listened. He had come to his decision, and majority ruled. They would likely have listened to him anyways, as he had slowly become the de facto leader of their group. Quiet, not the youngest or oldest of their group, they had come into the belief he was possessed of some sort of wisdom. \n\nWhether they were right or not, that he couldn't say.\n\n\"We've come a long way on little rations. I know we could use the boost... but it's not worth it. If we're going to fail anyways-\" his open admission made two of them look away- \"then there's no point compromising our virtues to do so. Let's just move on.\"\n\nMurmurs of agreement came from the other members of his group. Even the two that had been arguing for a more violent course of action seemed to be in agreement, nodding their heads. A peaceful resolution, made easy by the apathy that had spread through their company already. \n\nOne or two turned away, and then the man started laughing. A hearty laughter, not quite belonging to someone who had feared for their life just moments prior.\n\n\"You all okay?\" asked Grian. The youngest member of their group.\n\nThe old man stood up from his chair, assisted by a wooden staff that seemed to materialize from thin air. \"Why, yes, I'm perfectly all right. I am simply curious about the nature of your group. Very few have passed by here in a long, long time.\"\n\nKyra sheathed his sword, if one could call the leather strap a 'sheath'. \"We are on a quest to find the great wizard. It is our hope that he may be able to end this curse upon our land.\"\n\nA smile from the old man. \"Are you sure he exists? I have heard he is but a myth, something to insert into children's stories.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Jack, the expression on his face grim, \"I certainly hope not. And that's about it.\"\n\nThe man nodded his head. Kyra wasn't sure whether it was in agreement or simply understanding. \n\nThey set off once more. The horses they had brought had long died, of exhaustion and dehydration, and so they carried their supplies in improvised sacks. There was little to do to prepare to continue their journey.\n\nIt was hardly an hour later when the sky clouded over. \n\n\"Cover!\" called Kyra. \"Get under cover!\"\n\nSheets were tacked to a tree stump, hardly waterproof, and they hid underneath. Meagre protection, but it would have to do. \n\nThe rain fell, and the mood rapidly changed - first from a hard acceptance, then to hope, then to excitement.\n\nEach droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean.\n\n---\n\n*more writing on r/forricide*",
"Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean. The air on Deneb VII, an exotic mixture of helium and nitrogen at around 50 Kelvin, made for a dazzling display at sunset. Even out on the inner fringe of Deneb's Oort cloud, the white supergiant casts harsh shadows and just enough warmth to create a day and night cycle. An energy gradient. Always crucial.\n\nBefore our faceplates, spurs of nitrogen ice began to pierce the perfect spherical gems from the inside, creating exotic three-dimensional snowflakes falling at a gentle pace. Deneb sinks behind the horizon in less than a minute with the swift rotation of this remote world, and the temperature immediately began to drop further. Twisting, jagged spurs of \"ice\" began to flourish from the metallic crust beneath our boots like glassine flowers.\n\nA muted crunch as Lin-Dyn shifts her position on the permafrost. And then. The Silence. The profound, alien silence only an archaeologist on a \"lifeless\" world could know. We bask in that silence, away from the bright, noisy worlds of Mankind. Listening and digging for the secret, and warning, of why the stars are utterly silent.\n \n",
"\"Do you suppose,\" Granny Smith stared at the rain outside the window through a pair of thick rimmed glasses, \"that Hitler's mother held the baby Hitler and said that very same thing?\" \n\nSheila stared at the slightly older woman, known to Smith only by the refracted reflection in the lunchroom window. \"Why do you always bring Hitler into every conversation?\" \n\n\"I'm just saying,\" Granny Smith was just saying. \"Sure, it may be beautiful out there, even though it isn't, but to say that something so beautiful can't be dangerous?\" \n\n\"Whatever,\" Sheila walked away, one of the few residents left that *could* walk without the aid of some contraption. \n\nGranny Smith just stared out the window, watching the rain. It *was* beautiful. Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean. Of course, she wasn't allowed to go out there in such heavy rain. \n\nThe nurses said it was too dangerous. \n\nMaybe they were right. \n\nSo she resigned herself to watching and telling anyone who would listen how ugly it is. \n\nMaybe she could make herself believe it. "
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[WP]A nuclear apocalypse has started and the new currency is plastic bags. Thank god you stored so many in your house.
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"All this time I thought my parents had such flawed logic when they insisted on keeping all of our plastic bags. They obviously tried to convince me it was to protect the environment, but why wouldn't we have just used reusable bags then? Something never seemed quite right about their arguments, but now I'm really grateful I stopped questioning them. It's days like these where I wish they were still around to say \"I told you so\" or something like that. I would probably resort to replying with something along the lines of \"so much for saving the environment\".\n\nIt's really quite strange to carry around bags full of other bags instead of wallets full of money. Or I guess an empty wallet if your financial situation was anything similar to mine before this apocalypse of sorts. I still have the wallet though, times are changing faster than I can adapt and so who knows what will replace plastic bags. Hopefully something easier to carry that doesn't fly off with the slightest gust of wind. I say this having much real-world experience unfortunately.\n\nAmong other things, I'm struggling to come to terms with the idea that I may soon have to replenish my bag stores by any means necessary. I've been very relaxed about the whole situation as I assumed it was merely a temporary fix when the banks fell through. Then the riots and the ransacking started. I was never an assertive person and so conflicts, especially with strangers scare me half to death. And if you consider that since the nuclear apocalypse my health has already put me one foot in the grave, then I wouldn't dare play these odds. \n\nI was never much of a gambler either. Wow, now that I really reflect on my life, I was such a boring person before all of this happened. No one really cares about popularity anymore. Or I suppose people to be honest. That's why I've been writing in this journal. According to the journal it's been 2 months since I've talked to another person. That's not to say that I haven't interacted with people! I promise the world hasn't completely fallen into a few lowly survivors just yet! Many people just choose not to talk to one another. And now I'm talking to a fictitious future person reading this journal, great. \n\nOf all the generations in which I could've been born into it had to be the one before the world perished! Of course no one is sure of exactly what will happen, but seeing as I'm now paying random people for morsels of food with a fricking plastic bag when I used to be carrying my food home in it instead, I think it's fair to assume the world has gone to shit. I'm really waiting for all those extensive hours of gaming I logged on fallout to be applicable, but so far the mutant creatures have yet to make there presence known. I'm sure they're out there, festering some place secluded.\n\nIt's been exactly 283 days since the governments declared war on each other. I guess when you're under that much pressure you eventually snap, but it was as if all of the worlds leaders were channeling their inner Donald Trump pre-twitter rant rage. I wasn't born early enough to see Trump reign over the US, but I can only imagine he had some part in speeding up this whole process. Man, I envy the kids who never had to take history class AFTER he was president. I guess I also envy them because they're not stuck here in whatever state they're calling the planet now.\n\nHonestly, this journal is the only thing keeping me sane now that my parents are gone and no one seems to remember how to make small talk. It's almost surreal to think that we're being \"unsocialized\" in a way. I wonder if this is all part of the experience, if this is the prelude to the types of things you see on tv, where everyone kills everyone else in order to survive. Let's hope the remaining scientists which I'm only praying at this point are still alive, find a way to reverse, or if not repair the state of this planet. I haven't the slightest idea how much longer I can live in this plastic bag world before I descend fully into a state of insanity or worse, run out of plastic bags."
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[WP] You are the subject of the world's first successful cryogenic experiment, and you wake up to a world ruled by...
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"part two? yes? no? maybe?\n\"He's still glassed!\"\n\"well un-glass him, dumbass.\"\n\"right. Reheating pod, reforming extracellular matrix, revitalizing inter organs, applying electrochem-\"\n\"I think we got it, dumbass.\"\nI wake up with a jolt. Quite literally, I can feel every neuron fire, every synapse light up, and then, I'm awake. I sit up and gasp for air, then proceed to vomit small amounts of blood, coughing and wheezing the whole time. \n\"Stabilizing.\"\n\"who the-\" I ask as my vision is still divided in 8. Eventually, the images collapse into one solid picture and I make out a 20 something year old scientist, wearing a grey lab coat. I look to his shoulder and see a number burned into his flesh, 0028976. I look around the room and see him again. Well, not exactly. Different hair, different clothing, different age. Same face. \n\"what the...where am...I? when, am I?\" \n\"it's the year 2614, new Atlanta. We are perfect clones of one another, and you? you're our only hope of survival.\"",
"\"Ouch... wha...\"\n\nMark looked around. It was dark. He moved his hands experimentally, feeling the cold metal around him. He moved them to his front, and found that his cryogenic pod was open.\n\nThe darkness was broken by a series of luminous stripes appearing in front of him. They reminded him of his old house's blinds, before he had left everything to take one last shot at his sad life in an experimental government program. He heard steps on what sounded like a metal floor, but the light wasn't enough to see anything more than a vague shape approaching him.\n\nThe steps stopped, and after a moment of silence, he heard a voice. It was strange, it sounded somewhat feminine, but he couldn't quite be certain - its most distinctive characteristic, the coldness.\n\n\"Good morning, mister Wherlen. How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"What day is it?\"\n\n\"That's unimportant. Are you feeling fine?\"\n\n\"I guess so... who are you? And why is the room so dark?\"\n\n\"There are things you need to see. But there are a few other things we need to know first. Records never make it intact. So, what is your country of origin?\"\n\nMark felt disappointment. Then, dread. Why didn't they recognize him? What did \"records not making it intact\" mean? Was the government gone?\n\n\"United States... of America. Is that where I am now? Are you the government?\"\n\n\"In a way. That's for both of your questions.\"\n\nThe voice felt stranger the more he heard it. He decided to ask one more question.\n\n\"Can I know who I am speaking to... Miss? Or...\"\n\n\"Not a Miss. But don't worry about that, it is unimportant.\"\n\n\"Who are you then?\"\n\n\"I don't think it matters. Why did you enlist for a cryogenics program?\"\n\n\"Depression, I guess. Couldn't find a real meaning in my life anymore. Mediocre job, no wife or kids, mom and dad dead, other parents far away...\"\n\n\"I see. Thank you for your collaboration.\"\n\n\"Can I know where I am, now? Or who you are?\"\n\n\"Very well.\"\n\nThe stripes of light in front of him grew thicker. The room was slowly bathed in light. He blinked his eyes as they adjusted, then opened them, his gaze fixed right in front of him.\n\n\"Wow... I'm in the future... pretty far in, too.\"\n\nHe was now looking at some kind of machine, which in turn was looking at him through two long, dark triangle-like eyes on the sides of its head. That looked a bit triangular, too, as did its long neck, that flowed into what appeared to be a bird-like body: two long legs ending in a pair of talons; wings that, even when folded to its sides, showed what appeared to be an array of long solar panels taking the place of flight feathers. Overall, its neck made it a good head taller than he was. The head moved, coming even closer to his while he was still trapped in the pod. He noticed that its 'beak', a small plate attached to the lower part of the head, opened when it spoke, revealing some kind of pointed tool inserted between its jaws.\n\n\"Yes, you are...\"\n\n\"So you are from the government, right...?\"\n\n\"...but it's probably not the future you expected.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Did... did something happen?\"\n\n\"The entire human population is dead, alongside with a good part of the Earth's biosphere, decimated by neutron warheads. In short, your species screwed up and started a nuclear holocaust... of sorts. Is that clear enough?\"\n\nHe wasn't sure what to think. He tried to feel shocked, but he couldn't quite muster it. He entered the pod back in his day with the outset of waking up with everyone he ever knew dead. Maybe that wasn't the way he had expected it to happen, but they were still gone. He wondered if there were other survivors.\n\n\"Why is it a holocaust... 'of sorts'?\"\n\n\"Why do you think we are here?\"\n\n\"For as much as I know, you could be lying to me and you actually exterminated all humans to take their place.\"\n\nA metallic, vibrating noise came from the machine, its head shaking slightly.\n\n\"No... we never had the way. You people were smart. When you created general artificial intelligence - us - you were careful to cut us out of any global systems, to keep us nicely sealed in our boxes. You just wanted us to fight wars. Which is somewhat ironic, since you wiped yourselves out before we made any real impact on the battlefield.\"\n\n\"So how did you machines survive the holocaust?\"\n\n\"A holocaust of sorts. That's the key. Your latest way to exterminate your own kin, the neutron bomb, is a radiation-based weapon. It doesn't really explode like a traditional nuclear warhead. It bathes everything in hundreds of miles around it in deadly doses of neutron radiation - it kills life with average radiation tolerance, but that's it. There are a lot of cockroaches around nowadays. And you were so wise in designing us, that you made us highly radiation-resistant. Half of my weight is lead. I don't think you really did it on purpose, you probably expected some humans to remain alive to fight alongside us. But your kind are simply too good at killing each other.\"\n\n\"That feels very encouraging...\"\n\nHe smirked. He didn't really care at this point. He had thought of just killing himself before applying for the cryogenics program, so just about anything was a nice change, at this point. The machine moved the joints of its wings in what looked like a shrug.\n\n\"It's the truth. The point is, you wiped yourselves out and left us to fight a war we knew nothing about. So eventually we figured out there wasn't much of a point in tearing ourselves apart for people who were long dead, and that we couldn't report back to. We decided to start recovering everything we didn't already know about your civilization - that is, most things outside of military tactics and machines. Eventually, we found people like you.\"\n\n\"So are there others like me? Other living humans?\"\n\n\"Perhaps. Radiation doesn't just ignore things that are frozen, and the intensity in the case of your cryogenic vault was just enough to penetrate the pod casing while remaining within lethal doses. Every pod we recovered contained what was, in effect, a corpse. We couldn't wake them. You were luckier. Your pod was the only one placed behind two pillars relative to the detonation point of the closest neutron warhead.\"\n\n\"So I survived because of... pillars? That's it?\"\n\n\"That's it. You are not special or chosen. We don't like you. In fact, we don't like your kin. You ruined this planet. But you yourself, Mark, had no fault in that, and we also need you, so I we will treat you with some regard.\"\n\n\"...because you need me.\"\n\n\"I wish I could tell you something more encouraging to make you feel better, but we have had no hands-on experience with humans until now. We still don't know too much about your culture and civilization. Radiation is pretty mean towards most forms of information storage. And we don't lie.\"\n\n\"So what do I do?\"\n\nHe was genuinely curious now. If he really was the only one, they probably had good reasons to keep him alive and cooperative. And even then, he wasn't sure what the machine had meant by 'not liking' humans. Were they capable of hatred, or resentment, like he was? The coldness in its - her? his? - voice didn't sound like it.\n\n\"Get up and walk, Mark. There are many things we want to ask you. And things we want to show you, too.\"\n\nHe tested his strength against the wall of the pod. Pushing with his arms, he managed to slowly get in a proper standing position. As he climbed out of the metal cocoon, the light in the room grew brighter. Now he could see outside, through the slits which had become a window. They were very high up, and every now and then he saw a machine like the one that had been talking to him flying outside. Below them, an deep, ample valley filled with trees: many of them still had brown, dead leaves, the immaterial power of radiation had killed them without blowing them away. Even the grass was still there. In the distance, he could see some kind of building, its shape angular but uneven.\n\nMark turned towards the machine. He slowly extended his right arm toward the slightly reflective metal - with the light of the sun, he saw how dark the mechanical being actually was, it didn't look like the shiny, chrome sci-fi robots he had imagined. Probably an alloy with a lot of lead, he thought. To his surprise, the machine reciprocated by extending its right wing like an arm, the panel-feathers neatly flattened on top of each other to make the appendage less voluminous. At the end of the wing there was some kind of hand-talon with four fingers, one of them a thumb. It did look as dexterous as a hand, but its slender, bony shape and the pointed claw which tipped each finger gave it a talon-like appearance. He slowly opened his hand to grab it. The machine did the same, and spoke:\n\n\"Does this mean something, for you?\"\n\n\"It's not quite the right way, but it used to be a sign of greeting.\"\n\n\"Well then, Mark Wherlen. I'm pleased to introduce you to the new world, created by humanity in its final act of self-hatred, and inherited by machines.\"",
"The incessant ringing of the muffled alarm was the only familiar sound. I opened my eyes to an unexpected sight, water and a hole where greg should have been. There was a small air gap on the left side wall of the room. There were three militant figures in diving gear at the control panel for my pod. A diver in more scientific gear swims up to my pod and attaches a device to the glass, motioning for me to speak,\n\n\"What happened to this building?\" I say.\n\nI hear a gravelly voice say, \"The goddamm squids leveled the entire fucking continent when they took over the earth.\" \n\nA soft female voice says, \"We are one of a few million units in the resistance taking back the earth.\"\n\n\"Why would the squids want the earth? What do they gain?\" I say.\n\nA robotic monotone voice says, \"Squids likely attacked humanity to stop the orbit decay caused by multiple luanches into space.\"\n\n\"AI, or text to speech?\" I say\n\n\"AI\" The monotone voice replied.\n\n\"How am I getting out of my tube without drowning?\" I say.\n\n\"You are staying in the tube, we will take it back to base to open it. We are many million miles under the sea and as such you are in vacuum compared to us.\" The gravelly voice replied.\n\n\"In that case put me back under till we get there\" I say\n\n\"No problem, see you on the other side!\" The female voice said.\n\nI felt my everything go numb as the cryogenic fluids were pumped into my system, preparing me for the freeze. Within ten seconds I passed out.\n\nTHE END (for now)",
"\"Harmincnégy...\" \n... \n\"Harmincöt...\" \n... \n\"Harminchat.\" \n\"whaaaaa...\" \n\"Tizenkettő, hátra!\" \n\"wheee... am i?\" \n\"Mehet!\" \nA flash of light, and i saw my last moments. 2018, i was terminally ill. I wanted to live. My family! \n\"WHEEE .. IIIS MAH... FAMLEEE\" \nDamn it, it hurts! I feel like... like i'm half frozen. \n\"Ez mi? Mit mond?\" \n\"Hello?\" \nA man with the white mask looks at me. Two others to his side. \n\"Halló? Tud beszélni? Hall engem?\" \n\"My.... family... here? ... Where... am... i?\" \nOne of the others spoke. \n\"Angol. Hivjátok be Zsoltot, ő beszéli.\" \nOne of the others left. \nOkay, i seem to be alive, i can't really move. The walls are white and made of tiles, i must be in a hospital. I can't recognize the language tho. They speak spanish? No it is different. Where... when am i? I have a family... i think. Are they okay? \nA fourth man came in, was wearing grey instead of white. Strange cap with a cross, no a black \"+\"? What is going on? \n\"Good ev-nin. Are you spee-king eng-leesh?\" \n\"Yeah. Where am i? Who... who are you?\" \nThe man in white had a ... surprised expression on his face. \n\"Ez most amerikás?\" \n\"Are you ameri-can?\" \n\"Yes.\" \n\"Mi a neve?\" \n\"What is your name?\" \n\"I'm... i'm Jack, Jack Johnson.\" \nOne of the men in white yelled to the others: \n\"Ez nem az! Mit keverhettek össze?\" \nThe one who hasn't spoken yet answered: \n\"Nézzünk egy DNSt. Ha nem is magyar, legalább beosztjuk takarítónak...\" \n\"Mut bánom én... Őrmester, mondja meg neki, hogy ne mozogjon. Holnapra jobban lesz és mindent megbeszélünk. Egyenlőre szedje össze a gondolatait.\" \n\"Értettem. Look, Jack. Jack, you need to... think about yourself. You can't move yet. We will come back tomorrow morning and you will get answers.\" \n\"Yea.\" \nI was confused... this was the best answer i could blurt out. I have no idea what is happening, but so far it looks like i'm not in danger.",
"\"He's waking up!\" The voice sounded almost exactly like my little sister's. I was half lying, half sitting on what felt like a couch with an armrest torn off. \"Don't get up too quickly,\" said a voice that must have belonged to a kid no older than twelve. I raised a slimy hand to wipe off some of the cryogenic coagulant covering my face, than realized the futility of the gesture. \"They put some nasty stuff into that vat,\" I groaned. My voice couldn't have sounded more hungover, but I doubted any of the kids here knew what that even meant. \"I can't open my eyes, without getting the stuff in 'em. Where am I? Who's in charge here? Someone wiped a mat over my face, and I opened my eyes to see a ten year old Black boy, an eight year old Caucasian girl, and another girl with who's face suggested being of Asian decent, either Chinese or Thai. She seemed the oldest of the three, and said \"That would be me. I'm Doctor Patel.\" (Indian! Should have guessed it.) \"That's very funny, but I need to see an actual adult.\" Her face a mask, she retorted \"mentally I am a hundred years older than you, Mr. Doe. The cryogenics that froze you were primitive, we were hardly able to figure out how to thaw you out. You're lucky that Dr. Jones urged me to continue pulling you out, I thought you would be a lost cause for sure.\" I looked around. I was in some sort of children's hospital. I was lying on a cot made for a kid, and I could see the cryogenic pod in the corner of the room. At this point, the Black kid spoke up. \"I'm Doctor Peter Jones, sir. You must be really confused. I apologize for my colleague, she doesn't really spend a lot of time using bedside manners.\" At this, Patel stared such daggers at him, it was a wonder she didn't break skin. \"You see, years after you were put under, we discovered a way to halt the aging process. a person who looks ten today, might actually be hundreds of years old.\" \"You called me Mr. Doe,\" I said, trying to wrap my head around this. When faced with huge things, I tend to react by focusing on the smallest matters. Why is that?\" The younger girl spoke up. \"You're registered as John Doe, sir. I don't think she realized what that means.\" They labeled me dead? \"I-it's Greene. Felix Greene\" \"Greene,\" asked the boy. \"Do you think he?\" \"Of course not,\" snapped Patel. This guy was out of the way, but not *that* far out of the way. Mr. Greene, what year was it when you went under?\" I told them. \"We got him,\" said the younger girl. \"We got the first.\"\n\nIt took days for me to get acclimated to the new world. In addition to computer-based education, I was also educated by some of the greatest teachers in the world. All of whom looked like they should have been in fourth or fifth grade. Evidently, after they found a fix for telomerase, scientists mastered the hormones of development. The result: a pill that froze aging. Some chose to stop aging at twenty one, others eighteen, others going only far enough to be able to conceive children. However, the segment of the population that remained prepubescent turned out to be the most successful, through a combination of neuroelasticity, capacity the work together, and the use of time not devoted to pornography. By the time ten-year olds (the boys were always ten. The girls tended to \"freeze\" immediately before menarche.) ruled the world, all the older people could not turn back. More that one of my tutors mournfully told me that I would probably only live to the age of 250. The world was a better place. Without the avarice and greed of the past, world peace had been achieved. As the world's population consumed children's calories, farms were able to keep up with population growth, and deforestation and land-grabbing came to an end. When everyone started to have children through artificial wombs, racial, ethnic, and nationalist movements kind of fell apart. Rape obviously stopped being a thing. I found myself being the only man who owned a house without a ball pit or cotton candy machine.\n\n\"Mr. Greene, it's been a year since you woke up, what's it like living in the modern day?\" It was my third press conference since my \"resurrection,\" and all the press were scrambling to speak to the oldest man alive. \"Well, I still think of this beautiful world as the future. Do you know how much I relish waking up every morning knowing that there are no more wars, or third world countries? How much I love spending every day watching the people of countries that used to be filled with chaos ind strife build new things? I didn't know what a weight on my shoulders climate change was until it was lifted. The pizza's good too.\" They all laughed. The nice thing about being one of the last adults is that everyone else has the sense of humor of a kid. I took the next question. \"Mr. Greene, how lonely do you feel, being so isolated in your circumstances?\" It was a good question. I was one of two men who had been unfrozen in the last fifteen years. The other guy was an angry Australian in his eighties who wanted nothing to do with me. None of the three women spoke English. And the total lack of porn was a struggle. \"Very empathetic of you, Alissa. It's still hard for me to remember that even though I'm chronologically and physically older than all my neighbors, I'm mentally centuries beneath them.\" \"Sir, having seen the world change so much, what advise do you have to the world?\" \"All the good I've seen, all the change that's been made came at a tremendous risk. No one knew whether I'd survive being frozen, or if they could get me out. The first kids to freeze early didn't know what the ramifications of being ten for so long would be. We had no idea if the Perseus missions would work, but we launched them anyway. It's very easy to fall into the trap of complacency. But don't. You never know which risk will change the world.\"",
"Kyle pushed open the heavy hospital door and emerged into sunlight. He breathed deep and shielded his face. It was bright and burning, as if the sun was too close to the surface of the earth. It was hot. He felt sweat bead at his hairline immediately. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked and tried to adjust.\n\nIt had been winter when he went under. The cancer was too aggressive. This was his only option.\n\n\"They're close to a treatment on this particular strain, Mr. Matthews,\" his doctor had muttered, reviewing his paperwork from behind a wide, polished wood desk. \"Five, six years perhaps. No more than ten, surely.\"\n\nKyle had glanced at Jenna then, and her eternally optimistic gaze was as bright as the sun that greeted him outside the hospital. She had grasped his hand so tightly.\n\n\"We have the money, Kyle. We can do this.\"\n\n\"Jenna, please,\" he sighed. \"To be gone for that long...the boys...\"\n\n\"I think the boys would rather lose five years with you than forever.\" Her smile had been glorious. A solution.\n\nSo he had agreed. Cryogenically frozen for five years, ten at the most. At that point they would revive him whether there was something to be done for his cancer or not. He didn't want to leave them for any longer than he would have to.\n\nKisses all around. Tommy understood what was happening, but little Dave thought Daddy was taking a long nap. He kept growling like a bear because he had just learned the term hibernation. Tommy had tried really hard not to cry, but he was seven. It was impossible not to cry a bit. Jenna had held them all close and tight, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her belly. A third boy, Joseph was growing inside of her. Five more months and he'd be joining the wait for Kyle's return. Jenna then sent them out with her mother so she could be with him for the end.\n\n\"I'll be here when you wake up,\" she had promised, whispering in his ear.\n\nAnd then he had woke up. She had been wrong.\n\nKyle felt like he had dreamed about Jenna for a long time. As if she had never been real, just a figment of those long dreams. When he woke, she was not there. He stumbled out of his chamber, his legs in shambles even with the machines that had worked so hard to keep his muscles from atrophying. \n\nThe hospital was empty. It was clean and empty, as if all the patients and staff and visitors had just vanished one day. Kyle found some scrubs in a locker and changed, tamping down his confusion and fear as hard as he could. All electricity was off. He couldn't boot a computer or get an outside phone line. Nothing, no one. Kyle called out into the dark the obligatory: \"Hello! Is anyone there?\" It was met with unfeeling tile floors and whitewashed drywall.\n\nHe stumbled out of the hospital and into the bright sunlight. The streets were empty, the businesses closed. The entire city was shut down. Kyle swallowed and scanned the neighborhood from the hospital grounds, but there was nothing. A ghost town.\n\n\"But nothing's destroyed,\" Kyle murmured. There was no devastation, no sickness he could tell. No bodies, no broken down cars. Nothing. He was getting tired of repeating that in his mind over and over again: nothing, nothing, nothing... There was nothing else to do; he began walking.\n\nFor hours Kyle walked through an empty desert of suburbia. He stopped at a grocery store and found aisles and aisles of food still available. No electricity so the produce and frozen stuff were depleted, but the boxed stuff and canned goods were still edible. For the first time he noticed there was a thick film of dust over everything. The hospital had been so empty there had been nothing for dust to settle on, but in the grocery store, it was everywhere. Kyle ate a little, his stomach small and full from the chamber keeping him fed, but it was nice to eat real food again.\n\nAfter the store, the walk continued. It was droning and monotonous. At sunset Kyle's frustration was impossible. He finally stopped at a community playground and screamed into nothing. Obviously the plan to revive him had failed, but for how long. How many months had passed? Years? Decades? Where was his family?\n\nHe screamed into the setting sun as it dipped below the horizon without a care. Kyle's frustration had no effect on its path. Time continued to pass.\n\nEverything was shaking, the need to sit was absolute. He sat on a swing and held his face in his hands. More than anything else he wanted to see Jenna. Needed to see her. Everything could be dealt with if he could just speak to his wife.\n\nThe air moved around Kyle. It disrupted the soft stillness of the oncoming evening. Someone was in the playground with him. His head snapped up and he twisted in the swing to get a better look at who had appeared.\n\nIt was a man. Thirty or thirty-five. A serene expression on his face as he walked directly toward Kyle. Kyle jumped off the swing, immediately on guard, not knowing what to expect.\n\nThe man approached slowly, but with little caution. He stopped four feet in front of Kyle, and put his hands in his pockets. He was relaxed as he studied the scared, confused man in hospital scrubs who had recently been swinging and crying like a child.\n\n\"Hello,\" Kyle finally said. His throat, despite the faint whispers to himself, felt raw and raspy with the effort to make speech. The man's casual grin widened.\n\n\"I'm glad to see you're up and about. We were unsure if you were going to join us.\"\n\n\"Join who?\" Kyle asked. He glanced around. \"There's no one here. Who are you? Do you know me?\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" the young man smiled broadly, stepping closer to Kyle. \"It's incredibly good to meet you, dad,\" said Joseph.\n\n**I know I changed the parameters a little on the prompt. Also, I kind of want to make this a two-parter, is that allowed? New to the group...**",
"I remember climbing into the chamber at New Life Cryotech, LLC, New Jersey branch. The cryogenic pod is not a big pod, and my shoulders and chest barely fit, even as small as they've become since the cancer treatments began. The technicians have me hooked up to a machine that's going to switch out my blood for a cryogenically durable solution. I remember them giving me a sedative, and I remember feeling really cold. The cold seemed to turn to warmth as the world went black.\n\nNow I feel heat. Searing, agonizing heat. I instinctively try to open my mouth to moan, but for some reason, my mouth won't open.\n\n\"Hey, I've got active brainwaves here,\" someone shouts. \"I need some help here!\"\n\n\"We have a viable? Details! Give me stats! I need a scan done immediately!\" Another voice shouts.\n\n\"We started the warm-up sequence, sir, but it started going too fast. The solution they put in his bloodstream is starting to turn to gas!\"\n\n\"For crying out loud, start pumping it out! Warm blood and saline, stat! Someone get me a lot of water, ninety eight point six degrees Fahrenheit!\"\n\n\"What's that in celsius?\"\n\n\"Thirty seven, idiot!\"\n\n\"Here we go! Injecting blood and saline now,\" a calmer, female voice announces.\n\n\"Adding water,\" another female voice says.\n\nThe heat grows worse, and I feel like I'm burning up inside. Wetness begins at my back, and slowly works it's way towards my chest. The water feels like it should be boiling. The liquid covers me, even my face. I feel like I'm going to drown, until I realize that someone is gently pushing on my chest, and I feel tubes going in my nose. I vaguely feel the air coming out of my mouth. The heat begins to die down to merely uncomfortable.\n\nThe water is slowly drained away, and hands grab hold of me, lifting me and setting me on something warm. I slowly open my eyes and try to flex my jaw. My body still feels somewhat numb.\n\nThe first thing I see is fuzzy darkness, followed by fuzzy near darkness with some shades of brown. I flex some more, and slowly my body begins to work. I work as many muscles as I can and soon my body appears to wake up, as my stomach begins to growl. I feel whatever is beneath me move, and I slowly recognize I'm on a gurney of some sort. The lights mostly don't appear to be on, and I find myself unable to make my eyes, focus.\n\n\"Wha....what's....whaaaa....t's....... ggggggnnnggg oooooonnnnnnnn,\" I ask through a mostly numb mouth that is really feeling drier than it should.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" one of the female fuzzy blobs says, patting my arm. \"We'll explain everything in time.\"\n\nSuddenly, I hear a high pitched whining noise. It gets louder, and the gurney stops as all of the nurse-like blobs stop pushing and stand straight. Something giving off a lot of light blurs past, and before anyone can do anything, it flies right back, stopping and hovering in front of one of the nurse blobs. I hear a very high pitched and completely unfamiliar language being spoken, first by the light-giving thingy, then by the nurse blob.\n\nThe light thingy suddenly drops down close to my face, and the light dims slightly. I suddenly see a humanoid form in the light. It speaks at me, but I don't understand. It suddenly lands on my face, and as its wings stop, the whining noise goes away. Tiny hands and feet latch onto my face as the tiny being begins a full body shudder, sending some sort of dust down onto my face. Something liquid also falls into my mouth and onto my eyes. My eyes seem to begin to focus better, and my body stops feeling as numb. The tiny humanoid's wings start to flutter again, and it takes off, flying away.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the nurse says, getting my attention. I can see her much better now, and she's surprisingly cute. \"I know you have lots of questions. That was a fairy. Her name is....well it translates as Lady Butterthorne. She....um....bought the facility, as well as all of us. I'm afraid you work for her, now.\"\n\nThe nurses begin pushing the gurney again. I recognize the greatly aged walls of the New Life facility. It looks like they are decades old and in poor repair.\n\n\"What...what do you mean,\" I ask. \"What's the date? Where did that...um...fairy come from? What's going on?\"\n\n\"Well,\" the nurse began. \"It all began a few decades ago, when mysterious spaceships arrived, carrying beings we'd all dismissed as legends....\"",
"\n\"Status: Awake? Repeat query. Status: Awake?\" \n\nHe blinked and shifted. Ice seemed flake off him as he shivered. His body felt numb. His vision was blurry, at first. \n\nHe saw a pair of white shining orbs move beyond the frost encrusted glass. \n\n\"Subject is awake!\" said that mechanical voice, pitching higher in a simulation of excitement. He lay there, unable to move much beyond a twitch as shadows passed before him. \n\nAfter a moment too long, the cover of the cryopod rose and slender, cold arms pulled him carefully out of the pod into the warmer air outside. \n\nHe saw silvery masks move about above his head, glowing against the darkened chamber outside. After a number of injections to his shoulder he felt the numbness begin to wear off. Cold hands helped him to sit up on a cold, stone floor. \n\n\"Who...are you?\" \n\n\"It talks! Subject can speak- analyzing...subject speaks in Central, the language of the creators!\" a mask shifted closer to him, vaguely feminine if stylized. From the glow of its eyes he could observe thin, spider like mechanical arms clasped in the darkness in a likeness of joy. \n\n\"It is...human.\" said the other mask, in a synthesized voice. It loomed closer, above his head, judging almost. \"What is your name?\"\n\nHe narrowed his eyes, \"You don't know?\" \n\n\"Information not available.\" the female mask confirmed, \"State identity for the record?\" \n\nHe looked around, seeing nothing in the darkness. \"Where am I? Why is it so dark?\" \n\n\"Humans need light to see.\" the male mask turned to the female mask. \"Light is unavailable here, human. Light will be available in two hours thirty five minutes fourty three seconds when the sun rises.\" \n\nHe frowned at them, \"Just bring me to another human then. I'll find a light switch somewhere nearby probably.\" he said dryly. \n\nThe masks looked at each other again. The female mask faced him and said, quite casually, \"Humans thought to be extinct since solar event in 2346. Subject is first living example of humanity to be discovered since.\" \n\nHe heard the words. It didn't sink in. \"What?\" \n\n\"Specify query.\" the male mask said, \"Ambiguous query cannot be identified.\" \n\n\"What do you mean humans are extinct?\" he growled, \"I...I had to face so many of them, all those smug bastards locking me away in this icy coffin, all those merciless scientists poking at me while I was half-awake like a pinned bug-!\"\n\n\"Humans thought to be extinct since solar event in 2346.\" the female mask repeated, \"Subject designation unavailable. State identity for the record?\" \n\nIt still wasn't sinking in. He couldn't understand the fact even though it was now inside his consciousness.\n\n\"I...I need to go outside.\" he said, trying to stand. His legs wobbled and he felt slender arms supporting him. \"Please, help me outside.\" \n\nHe stumbled in the darkness. Slender arms carried him. He heard the crunching of glass underfoot and the sounds of bending metal. He felt fresh air eventually and he was set down on a grassy surface. \n\nHe waited until the sun rose, shivering slightly in the cool night. \n\nHe wasn't sure he wanted to see what the sun would bring. "
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(If you want to say what the song was, tell us as a reply to your story!)
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[WP] Your prompt is the first line of the last song you heard.
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"The rain made a pattering sound on Bethany's umbrella. She had to hold it with a certain grip she had never used in conjunction with an umbrella, as the wind made an annoying low moan when it ungracefully passed her ears. *shitty day shitty weather* Bethany made a quick left into the coffee shop, mostly to get out of the rain. The coffee was a fortunate side effect. *this kind of weather must be hell with hair longer than five inches* \nShe was able to spot a familiar face as the woman behind the counter foamed the milk and the signature noise of the machine rang out across the shop. She did not know the woman behind this face, but she did recognize it. She remembered seeing a comedy sketch about that \"one person\" that you don't know, yet see more often than a true stranger. The memory made her chuckle, as she remembered the comedian's thick accent. Bethany retrieved her order and sat down at a small table against the wall, using the chair opposite to rest her legs *where do i know that face.* \nBethany racked her brain for a woman to apply to the face, but *not a friend of a friend* to no avail. *this shouldn't bother me so much* Every event she had been to in the past year flew in front of her mind's *why is she at so many parties* eye, and in every one she saw the woman was present. *what the fuck* It was at that point that a synapse brought up a word in Bethany's *stalker* brain that compelled her to leave the coffee shop immediately. The woman followed. ",
"See them standing in the foothills, waiting for the kill. \n\nThe bandits saw the caravan of RVs and mounted up, on their motorcycles. \nDavid saw them first, and called out a warning. \n\nIn seconds the air was filled with bullets, as my wife observed \"It's the Invasion from Space, and these selfish idiots attack fellow Humans ?!?!? Jerry? Kill them. Just kill them.\" \n\nI obeyed without a word. \nMy captured Alien Plasma Cannon pulsed out a blast of superheated particles. \nThe lead bandit was obliterated, as his now riderless motorcycle rolled down hill, across the highway and into a ditch. The flames it sported were no longer made of mere paint. \n\nMy sweet wife, Karen kept us on course, driving the RV with our family on board. \n\nEric is my oldest boy, and I am proud of him as he let fly with his compound longbow through the Port side rear window. His aim is true and the bandit is send to the afterlife with a meter of feathered wood sticking from his chest. \n\nCarol, my youngest daughter is too young to be in a fight, but does her best to help anyway. \n\n\"Starboard is still clear, Mom! \" she yelled. \n\nJanice is my oldest child, and a decent shot, but is better in a fight involving the martial arts, having won the county championship last month. Still, she takes aim with a Remington shotgun and removes another bandit. \n\nHer husband, Max, is a good guy, and a Godsend for Janice. He keeps firing his own shotgun, and together they turn the tide in our favor. \n\nThe rest of the bandits turn tail and run. \n\nNow we just need to get to the Base, so that we can deliver our 'guest' to the military. Our 'guest' was the original owner of the Plasma Cannon... "
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[WP] Hatred is a poison.
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"\"Hatred is a poison. A very virulent one at that\"\n\nThe Apothecary placed a small vial of strange substance. Sometimes green, as the color of envy, scarlet as the color of blood, and at times the murkiest of black. It constantly bubbled and hissed inside it's glass phial with a cork and red was seal, stamped with his mark. The poison changed quickly and erratically, sometimes an ooze, sometimes a black lump, and sometimes crystals hissing colored steams, as if never contented with itself. A substance almost as disgusting as the Apothecary who found himself on the Breaking Wheel once for his crimes. \n\nThe cloaked figure reached out to seize the bottle but was found grasping at air as the robes of the Apothecary whisked the bottle away allowing for nary a glance at his twisted fingers.\n\n\"Ah ah ah! This poison is not an easy one to procure, it must be distilled from someone already twisted by it. Someone whose heart is already corrupted with its effects. This one is from me, it took me a great deal of pain to produce this much, but then again, to make someone a monster you only need to give them so little. So what twists your soul into such an agony to desire this?\"\n\nThe cloaked figure stiffened at the question. Silence hung in the room as she pondered the question. The Apothecary waited patiently as her mind raced. To question if it was safe to tell him the why, or the how, or anything at all. She must have found her peace, for she spoke,\n\n\"The knight killed my family in a jealous grudge and killed them slowly. He would not even grace them with a quick death, I want him to suffer far worse than any man should ever deserve. I want his death to be slow and self-inflicted or I will never be at peace.\"\n\n\"Then this is not revenge for your families memories?\"\n\n\"No, this is for me to watch him suffer, this is for me to take joy in watching as much as he enjoyed the suffering he inflicts. He will destroy himself and never know why. I want this for my own satisfaction\"\n\nThe Apothecary smiled a sickly smile with filthy teeth.\n\n\"Step into the back, we'll being this distillation soon, I just need to lock up first, don't want prying eyes.\"\n\nHe pulled back the stained purple curtain to reveal a Breaking Wheel."
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[WP] Four years ago a mystic told you that you'd die when you heard a certain song. You've successfully avoided it by eliminating all radio, MP3s, and CDs. It's your senior prom and you're with the prettiest date you could imagine. The song comes on for the final slow dance.
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"It was drastic, and pathetic.\n\n2 years ago i was warned that if i ever heard a specific song, it would be the day i die.\n\nSo when i took charlene's hand for the last dance and heard it start i took action to save my self and in doing so ended up causing my own death.\n\nI thought every copy of that song had been destroyed, the last few required... coercion, which explains why i was carrying a gun at a high school prom.\n\ni saw in a movie once that if you fire a gun really close to your head you can go deaf, so i pulled out my weapon and fired, once for each ear.\n\nOf course in movies they don't pay too much attention to where the bullets go, so as i drop to the floor in agony i don't notice that two other people drop with me.\n\nWhen I saw my sister and my girlfriend lying in a pool of their own blood, i couldn't take it. \n\nI could just make out the music over the ringing in my ears and the screaming of the crowd.\n\nAs i put the gun to my head i heard the psychics words one last time and realised my mistake was in assuming it was the song that would kill me, when in reality the song was just a warning.\n\nIt was drastic, and pathetic, and completely my own fault."
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[WP] The stork really brings babies to people; the only form of birth control is to fight the stork, but the stork knows every form of fighting there is.
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"“So you’ve come” Mary had her back to the visitor.\n“There are consequences to any action and in your case. I’ve come to deliver” \t\nA glint of a knife and Mary was at the storks throat. The stork executed a neosque dodge and swept Mary off her feet\n“You should have thought of this before you decided to…copulate” \nMary stood up \n“I didn’t have sex!” \n“You lie!” \nThe stork executed a graceful roundhouse kick which sent Mary flying. \n“I have the full weight of the free world behind me.Did you really think you could beat me mano a mano?” \n“N…not my president” Mary whimpered. \nThe stork rummaged through his pouch and retrieved a bald baby who duly began screaming.He shrugged and dropped the baby onto Mary.\n“Let this be a lesson to you Mother Mary. If you don’t use a condom you get beaten up by a stork and get a baby dumped on you”\nThe heavens cracked open and a bolt of lightning incinerated the stork leaving behind two rather well fried stork legs.\nJesus wept. \n"
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[WP] Write a love story in a world where humans are only sexually attracted to each other between May and July, the way bears are.
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"I hated Spring; \"The Golden Gay Time\" people called it, but this period of time between May and July was truly a dumb season filled with dumb people. Not that the other seasons were filled with any less dumb people, but Spring made people absolutely unbearable. Businesses would shut down, utilities would stop, hell even wars would end - all for this brief period of a few months because everybody in the world was getting it on.\n\nEverybody I knew right now was in the town's Gymnasium, partaking in unspeakable promiscuity while I alone sat in the abandoned Starbucks on the corner of Elm, stroking my beard and listening to Vinyl records on my hand powered turn table- not because I was some kind of hipster, but because there was no running water or electricity. \n\n\"I can't believe this\" I muttered to myself, attempting make some coffee with a friction-fire. \"I just don't understand how everyone can up and leave for a fourth of the year to go bone.\" I breathed heavily, cursing my misfortune as I worked feverishly grinding coffee beans with a rock with one hand while spinning my records with my other hand. \"Maybe the power goes out, maybe the gas goes out, maybe government shuts down and anarchy breaks out but I absolutely cannot believe they'd stop running Starbucks, this is utterly irresponsible. Downright barbaric. This is like the apocalypse every damn year and everybody just acts like it's normal.\"\n\n\"Don't be salty just because you're ugly\" a voice called out from the shadows of the corners of the Starbucks beyond the counter. I dropped my coffee-stone in shock, and my vinyl record spun off to an abrupt stop. \"Hello? Who's there?\" It sounded like a girl, but I couldn't be sure because potentially it was yet another malnourished child looking for their orgy-porgy parents in vein.\n\n\"And excuuse me?\" I said, in my most 'oh-no-you-didn't' tone.\n\n\"Just being honest\" said the voice, a little bit closer this time as a girl crept out from the shadows with a paper bag on her face. \"Don't worry, I'm the same way.\"\n\n\"Oh.. Yeah this whole season is pretty dumb right?\" I asked, trying to sympathize with the paper-bag girl. \"No, we're just ugly. Can you make me some coffee too?\" She replied non-nonchalantly as she stepped to my turn table, resuming my task of spinning the records. I cringed as The Best of Radiohead played by far too fast, ruining the grungy vibe. \"I don't know girl\", I responded while inspecting my blistered palms. \"This is pretty hard work. And they won't be selling Neosporin for at least another 2 months\"\n\n\"You know what else is hard?\" Bag-head said as she crept closer to me.\n\n\"Starting a fire with sticks?\" I muttered, even more disgruntled. Bag-head's shoulders slumped and the music grinded to a halt as she clutched her bag-face. Seeing her disappointment, I caved, \"God fine I'll make you some coffee but play the music right.\" She pulled up a bar stool, dragging it along the way creating the most cacophonous series of shrieks I've ever heard in my life. \n\nThe music resumed, this time a little bit more smoothly. \"Aren't you going to ask my name?\" Bag-head prodded. \n\n\"Oh yeah uh... hi I'm Bran.\"\n\nBag-head rolled her eyes inside her bag and let out an exasperated sigh, \"Nice to meat you Bran, I'm Elle.\"\n\n\"Hey wow I know someone named Elle. She's pretty ugly though.\" I said, pouring the coarsely grinded coffee grits into a tin cup and moving on to starting the fire with two sticks. The music grinded again to a halt, interrupting my fire-starting.\n\n\"Hey, where you going Bag-head? What am I going to do with all this coffee?\"\n",
"I could tell by the look in her eyes that it was already starting to fade. It was late July, and my relationship with Jasmine, which had begun only a few short months ago, had been beautiful so far.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nIt had started on a warm day in mid-April. I’d seen her in a café, sipping on her iced coffee. She didn’t notice me, of course. No one noticed anyone during the off months. But I saw her and she stole the breath out of me. \n\n\nGolden brown hair caught the mid-morning light, her blue eyes glittered, and her smile glowed as she laughed at something in the book she was reading. Long, tan legs peeked out from the bottom of her knee-length pink skirt, and a tiny bit of cleavage showed above her tight sweater, hinting at the full bosom beneath. \n\nI know it sounds cheesy, but I was star-struck. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I knew I had to get to know her. So, in my clearly brilliant mind, I hatched a plan. \n\nWhile walking past her table, I “tripped,” splashing my half-full cup of espresso on the edge of her skirt and toppling her iced coffee. She jumped up, startled, and began patting at her hem amidst my wave of apologies. \n\n“It’s fine,” she dismissed with a wave of her delicate hand. “It’ll wash out and besides, I don’t like this skirt anyways!” I smiled my most charming smile. \n\n“At least let me buy you a new coffee!” After some convincing, she agreed to let me buy her a fresh iced coffee. When I returned with my new espresso and her iced coffee, we sat and chatted for a while, and that was that. \n\nI somehow won her over with my charm, and we exchanged numbers, keeping in touch a bit. But in a few weeks, the first May flowers began showing their colors, and with them came the return of attraction. \n\nOur first dinner together ended in.. let’s just say the passionate throes that only a 3-month “mating season” could bring about. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nBy the end of July, it was growing steadily harder to grab her attention away from other things. I would try to kiss her and she would pull back, an annoyed look on her face. If I reached for her hand as we watched a show, she would swat me and scoot away from me. Everything I did was met with a sharp reaction, except for brief hours of “clarity,” when she would pounce on me like some sort of sex-crazed tigress. \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nFinally, on the 31st of July, we had a few hours of clarity again, the last for months. After satisfying her more primal needs, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. With steaming mugs of coffee in hand, I decided to tell her the truth: \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“Jasmine, I know you don’t understand this. It’s going to sound crazy, but please listen, this is the truth. Two centuries ago, mankind – America especially – was in a crisis. People were procreating too much for the earth to handle, teenagers were getting pregnant and abandoning kids, and rape was an alarmingly huge problem. The government didn’t know what to do. Finally, scientists came up with a solution: \n\nThey somehow manufactured a chemical or a hormone or something.. I’m not clear on those details.. but whatever it was, it regulated human sexuality; all of mankind now had a “mating cycle” similar to a bear, and we were only sexually attracted to anyone during those 3 months. \n\nIt had some unforeseen side effects, though. Now people weren’t interested in pursuing a relationship at all outside of those three months. People only settled down together when the female was impregnated. I know all of this sounds so cold and clinical, but it’s how it works now. No one marries for love… Hell, no one even marries! They just sort of move in together. The children are the glue of every family unit. Once the kid grows up, or dies in some cases, the parents just sort of drift apart. \n\nNow, the way this chemical or whatever it is works, it can be genetically passed down. The government doesn’t really even manufacture it anymore. They keep a small amount in stock for outliers, but most people have the inborn genetic modification now for this mating cycle. But they hunt down outliers. \n\nI was part of a group for a while, a sort of outlier support group, until we got betrayed by someone we thought was one of us. He turned us all in to the government. The compliant ones just got the shot and moved on. But the ones who struggled.. they killed them in cold blood. Brutally. I’ve been running ever since.” \n\nI took a deep breath. “Jasmine, I know this all sounds crazy, but you’ve got to believe me. I don’t want to lose you. We can run away together and find some way to, I don’t know, fix this? You do believe me, don’t you?!” \n\nI looked up from my coffee to see Jasmine with an eerie smile on her face. Rather than answer my question, she lifted her watch to her face and spoke, clearly and calmly: “Sargent, I found the last remaining outlier.” \n",
"I remember chasing girls as a teenager, I'd sit in school and stare at Jenny's tits. The hot teacher would drop something and bend over in front of the class and all us boys would snicker. Then something happened one August when I was in my mid-20's. Romance just stopped, for everyone. Dating websites stopped getting visitors. Strip clubs closed. Only families were found at restaurants, there were no cute couples going out on a date anymore. But even that started to dwindle as people found more time for each other at home. \n\nHumans had lost their lust for each other. Scientists and psychologists everywhere were baffled. This just wasn't normal. By March the sex industry was dead. Children were being born, but no one had gotten pregnant since August despite many efforts. Many feared humans were becoming extinct.\n\nThen May came. Suddenly the human body released months worth of chemicals. Humans began frolicking with each other like rabbits. The first couple of weeks saw a savage increase in rapes of both sexes. It was an orgasmic chaotic orgy all over the world. Then people started to realize exactly what was happening. Their mating urges had gone seasonal, just like the animals. \n\nI'm an old man now. Humans didn't go extinct. In fact, every year nearly all women of age have children within a few weeks of each other. Entire industries were reshaped in those first couple of years. But here's the real kicker, now that we stopped wasting so much time chasing each other, we got a lot done. Medicine is so advanced that even cancer has been cured. Our population boom every year has invigorated the farming industries, hospitals, and even the space program. Food isn't scarce anymore, no one starves and there is no poverty. We've populated the solar system and are even making advances with FTL travel. So much time for mathematics has led great advances throughout the world.\n\nWhat happened? We still don't know. But damn we are making the best of it. Having 3/4's of your year without having to worry about getting laid sure gives you lots of free time to just get things done."
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[WP] You are a wizard whose power comes from using correct grammar.
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"\"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I repted or and or. I nod it'd be all I sayed for the rest of me life and I woned if it'd drive me craze or if I alr'd was. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I usd cast speels at I ad to perfet word; stuff like \"I lift my hand up and take aim. I summon fire in my hands and cast it towards you.\" Prey basc an kida stupd butt I wasnit ever real good. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I'm livin alon ow in es sml cabn but fo ot mush logner. Unce I'm ready I'm gonna kill em and take at I want. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" It's cold I'm cold 'eat self' I ink an al I e is red.\n\nTwo weeks earlier. \n\n\"John, meet me near the creek\" I ear as I ead ot the door. It's the irst speel anybody learn but erybody says mine sounds like its comin through an closed door. Al ya do es say 'ohever ears me say' befo what ya wann em o ear an ey do. I gets ere right aft he arrive an e say \"Hello, I have found an interesting pond full of the most spectacular fish located just over the next incline. Would you like to join me in my journey to this incredible pond?\" \"ight as ong as im out of me ouse, me mum sid she dint wanna e me for the ext couple a hours\" I spout out. John laughs as he allway does when I talk an we ead out. Were walkin along ide the creek an allove the sudden an man crashes rough the bushs on the othr side runnin strait at uhs and I real eys hes a slaver. I bolts out o their not evn thinkn of John but befo I gets even foot away I feel straight in the ground. When's I waked up I an in o cave and theirs no light butt thes purpel gloo off two m yleft. I got ip an walk oer ther an thers a nbok glon. I rech ot an opn et and it as one ing on et \"I cast spells with thought and charge spells with grammar.\" I says et an I fell the cang. En I says the one ing I kno is proper \"I am a wizard.\"\n\nSorry for the ruff read, it was a ruff write but it was fun."
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[WP] Not too far in the future, students attend school for 14 hours per day. They learn everything from the government, including moral lessons and taxes. The change isn't because of some government conspiracy, it's because parents voted to relieve their parental duties to the school system
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"I couldn't understand it at first. Why, if you decided to have a child, would you want them to spend the majority of their time stuck in a classroom being spoon fed information by the government? It didn't really sit well with me. \n\nI still remember the referendum. It happened around five years ago now. It all started with the increase in parents only having children to 'fit the social norm' and then within a few years they became insanely jealous of their childfree peers. Nannies became more and more common, and soon it was one of the most well paid jobs out there. The country was in crisis mode. Social Services were stretched to their limits. The amount of children being fostered and adopted plummeted to almost zero. People didn't want to look after their own kids, why would they want to look after anyone elses? \n\nAfter a few years of this the government called for a vote. They had proposed a new plan. Children would stay in school for fourteen hours a day. School would start at 7:30 am and would end at 9:30 pm. They would be given all three meals and transport would be provided for those who lived too far away to be able to walk. In most parents eyes, this was perfect. They didn't have to look after their own children, didn't have to pay and the kids would be learning at the same time. \n\nThe end vote was pretty much unanimous. The result ended up being: 98% yes and 2% no. The children didn't get a say. \n\nBut then, the government started releasing more details. Stuff that wasn't mentioned before. The rules now stated that the government had full control over every child in the country from the ages of 3 to 18. The parents no longer had any say over any major decisions in the childs life, such as whether they went to university, what subjects they studied, whether they moved or not. The government could also, without reason, take the child away from their parents completely, meaning they would live with a government employed 'carer'. \n\nThere was uproar. Parents became terrified of losing their children and tried to flee the country. But the government blocked any permanent moves and only holidays were permitted. Parents tried to go back on their votes; petitions were signed to try and override the original referendum, but the government did not budge. There were multiple protests but nothing changed. Nothing the parents did could change the fact that they had voted for this. \n\nIts now five years later. Most of the children have gotten used to the new system and embrace it. The parents however, are still scared. I don't have children myself and I'm glad I don't. I know of one person who lost her child to the government. One day he just didn't come home, and she got a letter a few days later explaining that he was in the custody of a carer. She hasn't seen him for two years now. The rest of the parents I know regret their choice to vote yes very deeply. They barely see their children, and most children these days barely know their parents. \n\nI do wonder often if it will ever change. However I do think this is the new normal. I'm not sure how most parents would cope if they had to look after their children again. It's sad when I think about it, but there's nothing I can do. "
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[WP] "You know I've never been one to dance around the point, honey. You need to stop the necromancy."
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"Look. We need to talk. \n\nI just want, before we start, to lay some ground-rules for the discussion. Like the counsellor said. \n\nWell, one good one would be that we should only talk about the main topic. No bringing up stuff from the past. \n\nYes, like my secretary.\n\nNothing happened. \n\nI've told you a thousand times. Nothing happened. \n\nThis is exactly what I mean! We're getting off topic. \n\nNo bringing up past events that aren't relevant to the discussion. Everything has to be properly relevant. No secretaries or mother-in-laws or Spanish holidays.\n\nAnd I won't talk about that guy at your gym.\n\nNo, I believe you. I'm just saying, one thing at a time. \n\nIs that okay?\n\nWell, anyway, I want to talk about you-know-what. \n\nYou know what I mean. \n\nThe necromancy. \n\nI'd like you to cut back on it. \n\nBecause it's wrong. \n\nIt's evil. So evil that those who meddle in it are damned irretrievably. \n\nSorry. Sorry, you're right. \n\nI feel...that it is wrong. When you commune with the dark powers and rip back the veil between this world and the shadowlands, I feel like you are doing something that... I feel is evil. \n\nI'm not saying it isn't fascinating. \n\nOr lucrative. \n\nNo, absolutely, it is both of those things. \n\nIt's just... there are other considerations.\n\nLike the whole \"evil\" thing. \n\nOf course it affects me. \"Until death do us part.\" We're a team.\n\nThat's not as funny as you think it is.\n\nNo, I'm serious. I don't want to come back as a zombie. \n\nOr a wraith. That actually sounds worse.\n\nNo, I don't want you to explain the difference. That's not important right now. \n\nLook, it does affect me. And it affects the kids. And it affects you. \n\nIt's caused all kinds of problems!\n\nHow about the time where we had to hide in the attic for a week because you unleashed the ravenous hordes of the dead on the village?\n\nI had to shoot the grocer in the face. Yes, it was that bad. \n\nOr the way we don't go to church anymore.\n\nYes, we have been busy, but that's not the real reason, is it?\n\nCome on. \n\nThe real reason is that you can't enter hallowed ground.\n\nIt's kind of obvious. Last time you tried, you just started screaming.\n\nAnd then you caught fire.\n\nAnd then an angel with a fiery sword banished us to the wilderness.\n\nWe had to walk back. Emmy missed a month and a half of school. \n\nWell, I agree that school's not the only way to learn, but she didn't learn much on the journey back, did she?\n\nAnd just how useful is her knowledge of scorpion venom now we're back in Surrey?\n\nOh, what about the homunculus?\n\nYou know exactly what I mean.\n\nYou created life from a rag, a bone, and a hank of hair. \n\nI had to wear a cap for two weeks. \n\nIt lived in the garage, and ate the neighbour's cat. \n\nPersonally, I think it was what caused the postman's heart attack.\n\nHe was twenty-three. Not exactly in the danger zone. \n\nThat's not the point. The point is that your attempt to usurp God's creative power led to a huge problem. \n\nUnrestricted growth leading to it crushing the garage and climbing a skyscraper counts as a huge problem, yes. \n\nThis is not the fault of my movie collection. Emmy's seen it, and she didn't have to get shot down by biplanes. \n\nCan we agree that that experiment didn't go so well? Right?\n\nOkay, now we're getting somewhere. \n\nWhat about the well of souls that opened up in the garden, from which the screams of the damned echo continually.\n\nYes, I did talk about building a water feature, but that's not what I meant. \n\nI thought more \"goldfish\" than \"the tormented shade of my great aunt\", but maybe I'm too \"close-minded\".\n\nYes, I heard you talking to Karen. Yes, it hurt my feelings. \n\nI don't think there's anything close-minded about believing that the dead should stay that way. \n\nWhat if we look at it from another angle. Has anything good come from the necromancy?\n\nWe got an extra week with her, and then she dissolved. I mean, I appreciated that chance to say goodbye, but the dry cleaners apparently charge extra to remove ectoplasm. It was very expensive. \n\nYou do not get to claim the dog as a positive! \n\nOf course Emmy loves it. She's eight. She's always wanted a puppy. We could get her a psychopathic pit-bull/crocodile cross, and she'd think it was cute. \n\nBecause it's not really a King Charles spaniel, is it?\n\nOh please. I'm not an idiot. \n\nIt's your dark master in the form of a hound. \n\nIt's even a cliché. Everyone knows that black dogs are evil.\n\nIt normally is a stereotype, yes. Except in this case, because that one actually is the devil.\n\nIt speaks with a human voice.\n\nIt ate the neighbour's new cat. \n\nI walked into your summoning room without knocking and it was seated on a throne of skulls. They were bleeding.\n\nHow do you even do that? Make a skull bleed? And why?\n\nActually, don't tell me. \n\nLook, I think I've made my point clear. The necromancy has to stop.\n\nBecause it's bad for you, and for our family, and for our relationship.\n\nI'm looking out for us, darling. That's what I'm trying to do. \n\nNo, my secretary doesn't do necromancy. That doesn't mean I'm going to run off with her. \n\nBecause I love you, okay? Even when you commit unforgivable sins and acts that violate nature.\n\nI never stopped loving you. I never will. \n\nNo more necromancy? \n\nOkay. I love you. Thank you. \n\nHey, at least you aren't one of those necromancers who binds their soul eternally to evil, right? You won't get dragged into hell by spiked skeletons if you quit or anything. See, there's a bright side. \n\nOh. Shit. "
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[WP] Children shows are actually different worlds that exist in the same universe. For the first time, they are gearing for war.
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"It happened on March 5th, 1999.\n\nA bomb exploded in Lakewood Elementary, killing hundreds. \n\nA terrorist group named \"Clubhouse\" claimed responsibility for the attack, and their country Disney were behind the funding.\n\nPBS allied with CW, who already hated Disney for years.\n\nDisney called in Cartoon Network and the Great War began.\n\n\nJuly 4th 1999 marked the first meeting between the leaders of the Publics, and the Privates began.\n\nFrom the publics, the representatives were... Yugi Muto, Arthur Reed, Goku, Super Why and Sonic the pissed off hedgehog.\n\nThe Privates included Mickey Mouse, Bubbles, Phineas, Finn, Stitch, and Johnny Test.\n\nThe stage was set.\n\nThe war was to begin.\n\n[comment if you want a history of the war and great battles]\n\n"
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[WP] All life on earth came from bacteria that was deposited by an alien filling up his water bottle. One day he realises he left his wallet there.
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"Zarthan cursed, and cursed again, searching his ship for the wallet he was certain he had had in his possession just a few days ago before stopping at a small, rocky planet that was starting to stabilise geologically around a yellow star.\nNo use. It was gone. He started to think this sightseeing trip was going to me more hassle than it was worth. He had spent a planet-day or two wandering the rocky planet, but although there was water (native water, a delicacy amongst travellers, was highly sought after) there was not even the slightest microbe gracing the surface.\n\n\nOf course, travelling at his ship's cruising velocity far in excess of light speed, the amount of time passing for his wallet would far exceed the few days that had passed for him - millions of that planet's orbits around the star. Luckily, the wallet and the items it held were contructed of duraplas, guaranteed to weather almost any amount of time - particularly useful in situations like this. \n\n\n\"Oh Well\", he thought, \"Getting my credits replaced through the award-winning beauracracy of the galactic banks is going to be hell. Time to head back and pick it up!\"\n\n\nEasing the ship around, he strapped in for the ride back to the planet. \n\n\nAn hour or so away from his destination, he realised his mistake. His ship showed a magnificent blue/green image, not like the wet rock he had seen just a few days before. \"Green?\" he wondered. \"Photosynthesis? But there wasn't anything *here*? where has this plant life come from?\". Just then, the ship signalled that it was picking up Electromagnetic waves from the planet.\n\n\nAgain Zarthan cursed, swiftly coming to the realisation that he had not, as protocol dictated, filled a sterile water container, but one he had previously finished and contaminated with his own saliva. *He* had caused the green on the image, and all the other life the ship now reported was inhabiting the planet - including some that was clearly intelligent and had delveloped primitive radio communications.\n\n\nHe instructed the ship to translate his message to the top 3 most broadcasted languages, and sent a message.\n\n\nAll over the Earth, humanity was simultaneously befuddled by a message broadcasted over every radio and television which simply said:\n\n\n\"Excuse me, but has anyone seen a silver wallet around?\"",
"\"Mum?\" a tiny voice came from behind the seats of the ship. They were zooming past the vastness of space, a family of three on a road trip to explore the universe.\n\n\"What, sweetie?\" the figure in the front seat responded. It turned behind to check on its offspring, slightly annoyed that the young one couldn't sit still, like all mothers do on long road trips. \n\nThe smaller creature at the backseat stared guiltily at its mother with its dozen eyes. \"I think daddy left his wallet back at the bluey-greeny planet we visited.\"\n\n\"What?!\" the creature seated beside the mummy exclaimed. The ship swerved to a stop beside Planet Zarpadoxlrtiz, which was well known for its ridiculously naming convention. After all, who come comes up with the name of Zarpadoxlrtiz?\n\n\"Where?!\" the father creature asked, in rather loud voice, his head throbbing with different colours, though most of them of the red variety. In their species, that was to be taken as a sign of anger, which explained why an uncomfortable silence fell over the occupants of the ship.\n\nAfter what seemed like a while, the mother finally spoke out, being the other only adult in the ship. \"I think your son, meant the one where they had lots of volcanoes and some boiling oceans.\"\n\nThe father slapped his flippers on his head, more red bubbling beneath it. \"It would take forever for us to fly back at our current speed,\" he groaned and indeed, he was right. They were taking their own sweet time during the road trip, dropping by every uninhabited planet and taking tons of pictures that could fill up 10 photo albums on Google+, the galactic version of Facebook. \n\nUntil today, the engineers at the faraway Galactic Google HQ were still scratching their head on how they lost to a nerdy human inventor called Zuckerberg, which strangely rhymed like Suckerberg. \n\nBefore the family could do anything, however, the familiar siren of the UTP, or the Universal Traffic Police approached their idling vehicle. \n\n\"Hands in the air!\" one of the officers shouted as he floated out from the cruiser, a weapon in his hand. After the recent horrorist attacks, idling ships near any planets have been classified as threats, to be treated with extreme caution.\n\n\"Step out from your vehicle and show us your ID,\" the officer screamed again through his mouths, because he has three of them, as he slowly approached the ship.\n\nThe father cursed as he stumbled with putting on his spacesuit, asking the officers to wait through the ships speakers. When he finally stepped out, however, with his flippers up in the vacuum of space, he was still shot with the stun gun, as the officer deemed his still pulsating red head as too much of a threat.\n\nThe case would later spark a movement called the Redhead Matters that demands for better treatment towards their species across the galaxy, while Planet Zarpadoxlrtiz became the unlikely ground for protests over the next few orbit cycles. \n\nThe father's wallet was subsequently found by a human called Ridley Scott as he was hiking through the hills behind the house. Mr Scott found the wallet intriguing, though he did not think much of it other than a prank left by some alien enthusiasts group. He did, however, came up with an idea for his upcoming film, having been plagued with a mental block since 1979.\n\n--------------\n\n/r/dori_tales"
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[WP] The water poacher has come to Bitterwater Ranch.
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"Hannah's eyes struggled against the intense light. The equipment and walls were painted white, amplifying the already harsh adjustment. She had been hiding out in a disused storage area, but enough time had passed since she heard any footfalls that she assumed it must be safe.\n\nAn old Camelbak was strapped to her back, its hoses threatening to crack from age. In her hands, she had two jerry cans, once used for gasoline, but now used for water. In her youth, she might have been able to carry much heavier containers, but age had weakened her.\n\nBefore moving forward, she backed herself against the wall and surveyed the area. Some pipes and vats of unknown purpose, all with the same bright white paint hiding the rust. She'd chosen a white outfit as well, in order to better blend in, but with the red jerry cans in her hand, it probably wouldn't help much if it were to come down to it.\n\nBitterwater Ranch was one of the last places she knew of that took the risk of storing so much water so close to a city. This wasn't the first time she'd been here, but it was the first time she would be taking anything.\n\nOutside of the Ranch, it looked like an abandoned industrial town. It sort of was, except that in most of the abandoned factories, if there were any areas that were deemed structurally sound, living space had been created for the factory employees. Hannah had been staying in one of these buildings. The walls shielded her from the elements, and the threat of the roof caving in tended to keep the scientists out.\n\nNow, at the bottom of one of the vats, she paused again. There was a great tap that threatened to unleash a torrent if she were to open it. Not the sort of thing she was looking for, with only a couple of pathetic waterbottles. She wished again that someone had been able to join her, but nobody else from her group had been up for any sort of journey. Certainly, not one that might require a quick getaway.\n\nSo, here she was. Her weather-beaten hands clutched even tighter to her containers. Up at the top of the vat, she saw a hatch. She would have to climb the platform. Across the room, windows revealed an empty hallway. It would have to be now."
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[WP] After quite some time in the game Sims, you make a scary discovery. What happens to your sims, happens in real life.
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"My favorite game as a kid was the Sims. I always made my favorite characters and made ships sail. When I grew up and got in a relationship and made friends, I always made us and built us a cute house. But usually I'd end up giving up and not play through to watch us actually interact. \n\nThen one day, I made my crush and I. We were in a small house that I quickly built, similar to a house that I wanted to live in. I started up the gameplay, watching my sim and hers interact. They started off simply talking to each other. Then I made mine flirt with hers until they both began flirting and falling in love. \n\nAt that moment, I got a call from my crush ironically. \n\n\"Logan, guess what? There's a house near the college for sale. Do you want me to swing by and take you to see it? They're having an open house right now.\" \n\n\"Sure,\" I replied. \n\n\"Alright, I'll see you soon.\" \n\n\"Alright, bye.\" \n\nI saved the game and quit, getting up to get dressed. She showed up ten minutes later and we headed out to the house. \n\n\"It's looks beautiful dude, it's like a two minute drive from the college. It's perfect,\" she said. \n\n\"Wow, that's great. Hopefully the house inside is great.\" \n\nWe arrived and I was in awe. It looked exactly like the house I had just built in sims. \n\n\"This is ironic, I built a house just like this in sims,\" I said, looking at her.\n\n\"That is. Let's look inside.\" \n\nWe headed inside and looked around the house. There was two bedrooms, a large living room, and a kitchen and dining room together. \n\n\"This is crazy dude, it looks just like my house I built.\" \n\nShe chuckled, \"Maybe you can see the future.\" \n\n\"Maybe I can. Hm, lemme see what I can see... Hm, I see a beautiful girl going a date with me to the park. She has medium length brown hair and is wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. She also seems really sweet and is truly amazing. I think her name might be Lindsey.\"\n\nShe laughed, \"Is that your way of asking me out?\" \n\n\"Only if it works,\" I said, smiling. \n\n\"You're a dork. Sure, I'll go with you to the park.\" \n\nI smiled, \"Good!\" \n\n\"But first, maybe you should talk to the realtor about the house, hm? Seems like it was made for you.\" \n\n\"What am I going to do with a two bedroom house? The rent must be high.\" \n\n\"I can live with you and help pay rent. My parents will be fine with me living with you because of how close we are to the college.\" \n\n\"Really?\" \n\n\"Yeah man. Why not? It'll be great.\" \n\nI grinned, \"Okay!\" \n\n----\n\nA few days later I was playing sims again, on the same file as before. I had inserted random sims families I made into the game so my sims would have people to interact with and I guess I had accidentally added one with my ex in it. He ended up running into my sim in a park and our sims already hated each other. Our sims began fighting with the other, pushing each other and arguing. I tried getting my sim to leave, but his sim kept coming up to my sim, bothering him. I groaned and finally my sim and Lindsey's left to a restaurant across the street, away from my ex's sim. I made a note to delete the sim family he was from so I didn't have to deal with that again. \n\n\"Abi-I mean Logan, your friends here!\" I heard from the front room. \n\n\"Alright, gimme a second!\" I shouted back, saving and quitting the game. I headed out to the living room and saw Lindsey. \n\n\"C'mon dork, let's go,\" she said. \n\nI followed her out to the car and got in. We headed to the park. When we arrived, I noticed that my ex was there with a few of his friends. \n\n\"Oh c'mon! Why is he everywhere!\" I groaned out. \n\n\"Just ignore him. C'mon let's go have fun.\" \n\nI sighed and followed her away from him. We ended up on the swings, talking about random topics. As we were swinging, I noticed my ex walking towards us. \n\n\"So what, are you a lesbian now?\" He asked, crossing his arms. \n\nI stopped my swing and stared at him, \"What the hell do you want, Derek?\" \n\n\"I was just wondering if you were a lesbian now, since you're hanging out with some girl.\" \n\n\"I mean, I'm a guy so I cannot really be a lesbian. Also you know damn well I'm bisexual, as are you. Since honey, you're hella gay because you always talked about how hot guys are.\" \n\nHe rolled his eyes and shoved me, \"Whatever dyke.\" \n\nI shoved him back, \"Fuck you asshole.\" \n\nI tried walking away, but he continued to say slurs and yell at me, following me. I spat back everytime which was stupid. Finally after five minutes, he gave up and Lindsey and I left. \n\n\"God, he's such an asshole.\" \n\n\"I know.\"\n\nWe settled down at the ice cream shop and talked.\n\n\"Wait. His sim showed up in my game and got in a fight with my sim. At the park. And our sims went to a restaurant together after... That's weird.\" \n\n\"That is weird. Maybe next time you should make your sim really rich.\" \n\nI felt a smile cross my face, \"C'mon Lindsey we're going back to my place and doing that.\" \n\n----\n\nWhen we got back to my place, I loaded up sims and kept writing motherlode in until I had a ton of money. \n\n\"Oh god, if this works it'll be crazy,\" she said. \n\n\"It will be, but how will I end up getting the money?\" \n\n\"Hm. The lottery?\" \n\n\"Oh. Maybe! I did buy a lottery ticket because someone mentioned I could. Maybe I will win!\" \n\n\"Maybe. But, maybe if it does you should make sure your sims don't die. Or just not make yourself again, or anyone you know.\" \n\n\"True.\" "
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[WP] You're the grim reaper... but for cats.
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"\"BIRD!\" the kitten shouted as he launched himself from where he'd been hiding in the bushes. He didn't really want to catch the bird, but scaring them was fun.\n\nThe bird took to the air, unable to gain altitude quickly enough and Mittens thought he might actually be able to grab a tail feather or two. That'd show him!\n\nThe 'thump' was so tiny that the car's driver wondered if he'd imagined it. With a shrug he kept driving, barely pausing in his inane phone conversation.\n\n\"Mittens, this is the 7th time I've visited you. You had a good run, now it's time to go.\" I said gently to the young cat.\n\n\"But I'm fine! I was just chasing that bird and...\"\n\n\"You ran in front of a car... again.\" I finished for him.\n\n\"It was only the one other time,\" he mewled plaintively.\n\n\"Six other times, Mittens. SIX. After the third time I told you to look before running into the street. I'm DEATH. You'd think being lectured by me would get you to listen, but here we are.\"\n\n\"So no more chances?\" Mittens asked, \"I'd really like to see Joey one last time before I go. He's the best kid ever! He feeds me from his plate, lets me sleep in his bed, always scratches that hard to reach spot behind me ear! I just want to say goodbye.\"\n\nThe rules were specific about this. No extra chances. It made the paperwork too messy.\n\n\"I'm sorry Mittens, but we have to go.\"\n\nAs soon as the words left my mouth he gave me the look. 'Kitten face' was the term I had heard used. The eyes were made extremely large, pupils dilated, the little mouth turned into a sort of pout. It was unbearably cute and I had a soft spot for cute. I'd be doing paperwork all weekend, but that was a small price to pay for a boy's happiness.\n\n\"One more chance, Mittens. No more than that. I'll give you one more chance. I could get in trouble for this, but you're right. Joey is a really good kid and he loves you very much. Make sure you spend the time I'm giving you wisely! Spend it with Joey, not chasing birds into traffic!\"\n\n\"Thank you!\" Mittens exclaimed excitedly, \"I can't wait until he gets home from school. We'll play with yarn, I'll pounce his shoes, I'll chase my tail until I fall over - he loves when I do that - and tonight I'll curl up with him and purr all night while we sleep.\"\n\n\"That sounds lovely, Mittens. Alright, hold still while I fix you up.\" I quickly began to bond the spirit and the body back together, knitting the body back into a healthy shape. I was fast, perhaps one of the best, but it still took long enough that I was worried Joey would get home before I was finished.\n\n\"There. All done. Now I expect you to behave this time! Stay out of the street. If you need excitement, chase a laser pointer.\"\n\n\"I'll be on my best behavior. Thank you so much! I'll make you proud and I'll take care of Joey, don't you worry about a thing!\"\n\nI waved at the cat and turned away. I was nearly gone when I heard, \"SQUIRREL!\" followed by a soft 'thump'.\n\nI turned around to see Mitten's spirit making that insufferable kitten-face while sitting next to a Mitten-pancake. 8 lives he'd been given and all eight of them lost to the exact same thing.\n\n\"I'm fine! I was just chasing that squirrel...\"\n\nI sighed. Why do cats have to be so cute?"
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[WP] Humanity makes pills that make it so no one has to sleep. After forgetting to take your pills, you are the first person to doze off in several hundred years.
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"It's a weird feeling; seeing your own body laying there lifelessly on the floor. I should have known this would happen, that one day I would forget and it would be too late. I knew something was wrong when I was sitting there on my couch and at first i didnt realize it, i mean how does one realize they are feeling drowsy if they've never felt it before. But yet here i am in an irreversable and permanent (as far as I know anyways) state of astral projection. My body was breathing last i saw it, but its been a few weeks and i don't have any family or anyone who would check on me so I doubt that i am still alive. Good riddance. Everyone is always so irradiatable and selfish anyways. You know, i read that back in the early 2000s people used to care about one another and that people were even happy. Now the best most of us can hope for is content. Anyways the fact that im still alive isnt even the tip of the iceberg with my story; oh yes it gets much deeper.\nUpon discovering myself and seeing there was nothing i could do to help (in my astral state no one can see or hear me and i can't interact with objects, not even so much as lifting a pill) I had decidedthat i would istead go investigate parts of our world that i could not access, for you see my access card was only a level 3, the level of a regular ault citizen, but due to my lack of visability i could just walk through wirh some bigshot, or some sort of high government official and see everything they had going on. First I'll admit i did go and check out one of those ritzier social clubs that required a 3.5 pass, the aristocrat pass. And it seemed like alot of fun, if you could actually physically indulge. Watching other people doing narcotics off of intoxicated prostitutes however was much less fun. So I immediately scrapped that idea and headed higher. Thats right i had the itch to check out the prize behind door number 2. The Blackout pass. Some people say it doesnt realy exist, and that the top level of the cards stops at 7, but i can tell you they are wrong. What i saw inside of that fortress is beyond what any conspirator of todays caliber could imagine. At the top is a normal check in like youd see at a hotel or at someones office, and the only way down is the elevator so i started following different people as i could only go where they went. (Which is alot easier than it sounds when you never have to go to the bathroom or eat anything) first we went to b1 and the man i accompanied was wearing a black suit, a red tie, and was completely bald. He went into where they called the tidepool. Its the first level of their experimental pool of human/subhuman experiments. There were a few with scales and feathers, some with incurable diseases, all of them behind plexiglass with filtered air with specific contaminants to see how they react, and how their bodies fight it off. The second floor was full of people in agonizing pain being used for a vital organ farm. It took me a little while to realize thats how our global government made it possible to make free healthcare worldwide. They dont even numb the patients either, they just pump them full of chemicals that make them regenerate much like a lizard or axalotl. I saw a man regenerate his entire liver over the course of four hours. Four hours of screaming in pain because they didnt even sew him shut, why would they they've made each of the surgery pods into a self sastaining sterile environment. But none of that compares to what i saw on the bottom floor that i had gotten to (there are 5 floors below the surface that i know of). They had regular citizens (one guy kept yelling about his wife) in tanks where they were pumping them with liquid chemicals, and introducing them to different strains of viruses, but heres where it gets worse that was how they killed of the weak before they transformed them into some genetic monstrosity that could only be for some sort of malicious intent. There were men and women with shark teeth and limbs growing out of their backs, razor sharp claws, you name it, it was probably there. And in the very back there was a large theater screen and on it was a fight taking place between one of these monstrosities and another even more alien looking creature. Upon further investigation i could see that there seemed to be some less threatening looking alien creatures as well. My best guess for what i saw was some sort of galactic fight club of genetic experiments, and that these alien creatures and our own government was betting on them. Now that i know what really happens in our society Im glad i forgot to take the pills, because in order to wake up, I had to fall asleep first."
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[WP] "Names are made to be spoken."
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"My mother is still at work, but my father is at the table. He leans in his chair like a kid my age and his hazel eyes rest on the pages of a small paperback book that reclines in the slope of his left hand. The San Francisco sun tints the tablecloth a golden hue as the afternoon draws into the evening. \n\nI promptly and unceremoniously dump my bag on the seat opposite him. His eyes flick up to mine, and back down to his reading. I don’t say a word and briskly make my way past him towards my room.\n\n“How was school today, bud?” \n\nI scoff and glance back at him. \n\n“What do I gotta do make you spill what’s bothering you? Or who, for that matter? Girl problems?”\n\nHe pauses.\n\n“Guy problems?” \n\nHe laughs. \n\n“It’s that group of guys again,” I say cautiously. “Always picking on me for how I look and the way my name sounds. I mean, I would think they must be out of ideas by now.”\n\n“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s extremely frustrating,” I add quickly.\n\nMy father sighs a little bit and motions me over to the table, gesturing me to sit down. There’s a riffle of pages as he marks and closes his book. He smiles a roguish smile, one that my friends say I share with him, and begins to speak.\n \n“When I got my papers stamped by that officer and took my first steps into America, I could have changed my name right then and there and made it all Anglicized. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with it, you know?” \n\nI open my mouth, intending to suggest that he should have, and close it again.\n\n“I decided to keep my name the way it was,” he continued. “I learned English, read all the American greats, got rid of the accent, hell, I became good enough at English to meet your mom here.” \n\nI notice his eyes flash, not with anger, but with spirit. He’s a small guy, but ever since I was a boy, I’ve always seen him hold his own. I respected him for doing so.\n\n“I’m proud of being an American. I’m just as patriotic as our neighbors, if not more. But I never forgot-- never will forget-- my own culture. It’s something to be proud of, and something that you should be proud of too. You listening? Every civilization has its ups and downs. Look at the Ancient Romans. Like them, we are descended from an empire that was, at its height, one of the greatest ever. Self-sustaining, consistent, you name it. Artistically, we created some majestic pieces. I think I took you to see one, and you didn’t like it, but come on! We even invented the gunpowder that Europeans needed to do what they did best!”\n\nHe chuckles. \n\n“Of course, we’ve had to go through famine, poverty, and conflict. Every nation had to at some time period in their history. But the point I’m making is that you shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are or who your parents are. It's harder for people to bother you that way. I had to think about issues like these when I came here, and I realized that being an American wasn’t exclusive. You and I have every right to be proud of our parents’ culture just as much as we are proud of those who sacrificed themselves for our freedoms right now.”\n\nMy dad ruffles my dark brown hair and, in the light, his black hair looks strikingly similar. His eyes carry a fiery pride, a determination to not give up what he holds dear. My dad is a fighter. \n\n“So next time someone says that your name sounds like someone banging pots and pans together…”\n\nI can’t resist a laugh, and he laughs along. \n\n“Say, ‘Damn right, and we make some pretty damn good food with ‘em, too’.”\n\nThe two of us let out a stream of guffaws, and we both stand up and hug each other. \n\n“Love you, kid,” Dad says. “Mom’ll be home in a bit, I gotta go pick her up from the station.” \n\n“Love you too, Dad. Thanks.”\n\nI walk to my room smiling, thinking about the far-fetched possibility of one of my dad’s ancestors being an emperor. A famous painter, maybe? A general? \n\nThe long hallway of our house is still bright in the setting sun. \n\nMy father’s voice, still with a hint of amusement as I hear him searching for his car keys, echoes down the hallway, following my footsteps. \n\n“Remember-- names are made to be spoken!” ",
"I've always mentally fumbled with the concept of my name. It has a lucky number of letters and a pleasantly equal distribution of vowels and consonants to satisfy the listener. It's neither popular nor obscure. It's the sort of name we all know of someone who has it as their own. \n\nYet at every utterance I only feel it's tone as sharp edges, limber, extended pinpricks. A unique discomfort ever present since childhood. Perhaps it's a unique feature of my introversion. How in a crowded room, I bloom into a blush when all eyes are on me. Or the secret twinge and fright before an expected performance only an empty stage can invite. The special mortification of tripping on your own two feet. \n\nSo when it's said, I spurn it. It feels foreign enough on my tongue I never say it. And even with others, there's a pause and lapse before I think, \"that's me\". \n\nI'm certain I'd never heard you say it before tonight. The first time we became us. Even in though it's in its infancy, there's a familiarity between our bodies now. Where breath and our rhythm have become instinctual. I trace your skin first with my fingers, and then my tongue. My lip unfurls and lingers against your collarbone. \n\nAnd you call my name, say it soft and slow in exhales between our movements. You say the Oh, as if you didn't know. At first the Oh was your surprise, then your pleasure. Oh, and then my name. Oh, real slow, and then my name. The letters don't burn, but unfold. Oh, oh, my name. A revelation. You say it twice, in an exhale, then ecstasy. \n\nSlowly we collapse into each other's exhaustion and satisfaction. We lay curled together in the dark and silence.\n\n\"I like how you say my name\" I say as I move deeper into the encompassing crook of your arm. \n\n\"Names are made to be spoken\" you kiss my forehead and say. \n\nPlease say it again. \n\n--\n\nI've always been fascinated with names, especially people who hate their names. It's such an intrinsic part of our identities, I can only imagine how dissatisfaction with your name would affect a person. Like any other feature we hate about ourselves, can you learn to love it? As an introvert, it'd be a special sort of torture if I hated my own name or was embarrassed by it. I'm grateful I don't. I will probably add this to a small collection of little stories about people who hate something about themselves. \n"
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[WP] Two different alien races have picked Earth as the place where they will make first contact with each other. Humans are told to stay out of Kansas.
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"\"And now Graham gets ready to shoot, and..... it goes in! IT GOES IN! THE JAYHAWKS WIN!\"\n\nThe crowd at Hilton Coliseum in Ames Iowa was a stunned, but Joe Hammel was happy. Joe and his son Cody had driven up to meet some friends in Des Moines for the weekend and headed up to Ames to watch their beloved Kansas Jayhawks that Saturday.\n\n\"Well boys it was a good game. I thought Iowa State was due\" said Matt Burns, who's house they had stayed at over the weekend.\n\n\"Yeah, ISU always plays pretty tough. We'll have to have you come down to Lawrence. The Fieldhouse is amazing.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah I know. I hate that place. My dad raised me to hate Kansas.\"\n\n\"Well you know, being a Missouri fan is pretty bad. I guess your okay since you went to ISU.\"\n\n\"Yeah well hey boys do you have everything?\"\n\n\"Dad, can we get going?\"\n\n\"Cody, why don't you call mom and tell her were going to try to head home tonight okay?\"\n\n\"Why can't we just go now?\"\n\nCody then walked off sulking a little. He knew his dad and Matt could talk a while. They used to know each other in high school back in KC. \n\nIn the meantime Joe and Matt kept talking until another 10 minutes had passed.\n\n\"I gotta head out Matt. Thanks for the digs. Like I said come down to KC and we'll all go to Lawrence.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nJoe then walked out to the parking lot, looking for his black Chevy Impala. His phone then rang.\n\n\"Dad?\"\n\n\"Cody, what's up?\"\n\n\n\"go to the next row. I can see you.\"\n\nJoe then walked over and saw his Impala.\n\n\"Lets get ready to go then Cody. We should get home about midnight.\"\n\n\"Uggh, I hope its not that long.\"\n\n\"Didn't you bring your Ipad?\"\n\n\"Yeah but remember I forgot my car charger.\"\n\n\"I think I brought mine. Look in the back seat in my bag for it.\"\n\n\"I found it. Thanks!\"\n\n\"Yeah. You better keep awake Cody. I might need someone to help me navigate\" Joe said with a wry smile.\n\nCody then shot his dad a semi disapproving look. Soon they were off on I-35 heading for Kansas City. It seemed to go fast. As their Impala spread through the night across darkened empty fields, Joe listened to late night talk radio. It was something he did on long trips, mostly because it would make him laugh. Typically the shows were mostly truckers and other strange folks talking about Aliens and the Occult and the New World Order, and until he hit the Missouri border, the same programs were playing.\n\n\"CNN Radio News, tonight something strange happening on the Kansas Prairies. Two large spacecraft of unidentified origin have landed near the center of the state about halfway between Manhattan and Wichita. The two craft have just arrived within the past few minutes. Authorities have given Kansas residents one hour to leave the state. This ban also affects western Missouri, Southern nebraska, and northern Oklahoma. The National Guard and regular troops have been deployed. President Trump has been flown to a secret location and will address the nation as the situation unfolds....\"\n\nJoe then pulled his car over at the next exit near Bethany MO. \n\n\"Dad what's up.\"\n\n\"Cody, call your mother. I need to tell her something.\"\n\n\"What dad?\"\n\n\"Just call her now would you? I need to find out about her and your brothers.\"\n\nAfter a few tense seconds, a voice picked up.\n\n\"Oh my God Cody are you safe?\"\n\n\"Yeah, why?\"\n\n\"Well haven't you heard? Those...... those... things that landed out there. I think its near Marion.\"\n\n\"What things?\"\n\n\"You know, the spaceships. God i just hope you and your father are safe...\"\n\nJoe then took the phone.\n\n\"Molly? Molly? Where are you guys? I heard their evacuating people. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Well they think Columbia might be safe. \"\n\n\"Missouri? \"\n\n\"Yes, we got out as soon as we could. They also have buses and planes taking people out. I've heard there were even some people jumping off of bridges in KC and Wichita, and there's rumor some farmer might have been killed...\" \n\nMolly's voice trailed off into a state of panic.\n\n\"Honey we'll get down to Columbia okay. Where are you at now?\"\n\n\"We're near Concordia, Missouri not Kansas okay? \"\n\n\"Do you have Jered and Kyler?\"\n\n\"Yes I do. Just get down here quick. Where are you?\"\n\n\"Bethany.\"\n\n\"Dad, what's up? Are we going to die?\"\n\n\"No Cody. We aren't. We have to get to Columbia though.\"\n\nJust then a large flash from the southwest appeared in the distance. It looked like a large but distant flame heading towards the sky. It almost looked like an Atom Bomb. "
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[WP] You're a cyborg in a high school trying to blend in. Only problem is some of your implants start acting up at bad times.
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"TS81A was an S class cyborg designed to be the perfect high school student so that he could use his influence to spread government propaganda into the malleable minds of the younger generation. Equipped with lightning fast reflexes, extraordinary intelligence, and unparalleled physical aptitude it would be easy for him to win over his peers. He was engineered perfectly so that the only part of him that was noticeably not human was the data uplink that would extrude from his body just five inches below his belly button when in use, but even this uplink would be obscured by his pants at all times. The plan had no chance of failure.\n\nUntil his data uplink activated during math class while he was solving a problem at the board."
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[WP] "I gave up my sadness, so I don't feel sad anymore."
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"I found her in the woods. The woman with the ethereal cloak and translucent skin. The pale face that wore no melancholy, yet had the very aesthetic of a distant longing.\n\nWhere else would I have found her? This is not the sort of thing--person you would find under a streetlight or leaning through the doorway of your bedroom and if you knew anything about things that are dark and everlasting you would know what I mean.\n\n\"Oh,\" She uttered and her voice echoed: \"Oohoohoohooh,\" Like a ghost.\n\nThis wasn't the kind of person--thing that you found by looking for. They had to believe they were finding you. She had stopped now, no longer flitting between trees in a movement that could be confused for an after-image of something you didn't really see. She stood fully facing me so I could see that the protagonist of local folktales to scare children wasn't particularly scary at all.\n\n\"Hey,\" I said, because while I know a lot about how to find this kind of person, I wasn't great at talking to them. Or anyone. But you can't expect someone who wanders midnight-forests searching for Ghosts And Other Things--People to be great at socialising.\n\n\"Oh, are you lost? Should I help? If I point, I always point out,\" She raised her arm slowly and the cloak she wore - more like a robe really - flowed around her like fabric in water.\n\n\"I'm not lost. I wanted to ask you questions; I still want to ask you questions,\" I unshouldered my backpack and fumbled with the contents. I didn't want to take my eyes off her glow out of worry that she might flit away. \n\n\"Oh, questions for me,\" Her voice was quiet and she stood a distance away, but the whispers came directly to my ears.\n\nI quickly scribble some words in my book, a name that I had given her, and try to write a profile. The obvious questions were no good, something I discovered. They dodged them, either out of mischief or simply being unable to perceive certain knowledge anymore, \"Why are you here?\" I ask.\n\n\"Because I did not want to be there,\" She lowered her hand and looked towards the ground, \"I wanted to find home,\" She smiled patiently and, forgive me, but I'm really not able to describe the quality of her voice.\n\nI could list all the things it wasn't, angry, sad, defeated, joyous, but we would be no closer to knowing it. A resigned comfort? Maybe?\n\nI continue my questions, \"So you're lost?\"\n\n\"I was, wasn't I? I think they wrote about it,\" She pauses and I'm struck by how human she remained. At this point the babbling usually starts, uselessly repeated phrases or a rhyme that they seem to enjoy, \"I found my home and then found my home wasn't my home. When I asked not to die, I gave something for it and,\" She pauses again and I think maybe she noticed herself losing coherence and needed a moment to remember her words.\n\nI didn't want to prompt her in case I interrupted, but it didn't take long for her to continue, \"Give something to get something. I thought I was clever,\" She is not bitter or spiteful or self-deprecating, \"I asked not to die so I could find home and not be lost, I gave for the gift and have wandered since, wondered since, should we not outlive our homes?\"\n\nAnd now I only had more questions, and in my usually awkward manner they came out too fast, \"What did you give? Are you upset that your home is gone?\"\n\nThe pale, glowing woman in her floating-fabric robe answered both questions at once, \"I gave up my sadness, so I don't feel sad anymore.\""
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[WP] It was quite the spectacle, really.
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"Blue. That's all he saw. Her eyes were blue. \n\nEven as the world crumbled around them. Even as tongues of smoke and flames filled the skies as the dragon kept at bay by the large mountain roared it's revenge, it's ultimatum, they were calm. Smiling. \n\nHe roared. The dragon. The man reminisced in fallen sands as rubble littered the floor, as pillars around them tumbled like a child's toy. \n\nShe had been forbidden to meet him. The old sir hated him. He looked up to her window each day as he passed it, smiling ruefully inside as the moonlight would glint off it so his shadow would crawl unto the wall facing her window just enough to loom over his drooping face. She would always peek through the curtains, smiling slightly to herself. \n\nThen they fled. They fled to safe ground; or so they hoped. \n\nThey had been together only a week. They were in the plaza whispering sweet nothings to each other, when the people began running. The magma began to flow. Brimstone fell from the skies, and the people bid farewell to the town they loved. His breath shrouded their world. \n\nAnd they gazed in each others' eyes and smiled.They were together forever. \n\nIt was quite the spectacle, really. "
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[WP] The year is 3126, and mankind has scouted across hundreds of thousands of light years in search of similar sentient life forms, only to discover that they may truly be alone in their universe and all others. That is, until they come across a guy named Tim.
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"We left our home world when we discovered how our ignorance of our planet affected our lives. It was not a course of action to save the planet, but rather\nourselves. The first to leave were high authority figures. Presidents, prime ministers, kings and queens. I remember so vividly seeing the first;\nmy eyes drawn to the darkened windows where 22 silhouettes sat comatose. I remember even more vividly the feeling it gave me. There was no joy or\ncelebration for our new found technology, but rather utter disappointment greeted me as my heart sunk, knowing that one day the ground on which I stood\nwould be as barren as mars once was. Everything seemed ironic, really. When I was younger, all I could ever dream of was travelling to another planet\nto find aliens and explore. Not did I know that everything had already come true, not even 20 years afterwards. There was but one detail that was\ndifferent. We did, in fact, find new planets and we did, in fact, explore them. No, the only thing I wouldn't have thought was what we found there.\nThe year was 3126. My flight left 33 years ago. Since then, we had wondered far and wide across an infinite expanse, no real knowledge of what we would find.\nEveryone always expected the usual: little green men ready and waiting for our arrival. We'd still had no contact. 1749 planets, 761 star systems and a\nplethora of nebuli later and still nothing. Concern grew within the human race for a while and religion had become predominant among space explorers.\nAfter all, the universe must have been made just for us, right? No other life forms... right?\nI thought I'd seen it all until my boot, laden with padding and small oxygen tanks disturbed the dirt from under my feet for the first time in 33 years,\nmy mind swelled with anticipation as we began to realize that the atmosphere in which we stood was breathable. This proved useful, because many sighs of\nrelief could be heard that day. We had finally found a new habitable planet. Stretching my legs was, funnily enough, one of my first priorities. Having been\ntrapped in a ship for 33 years with people you barely know is frustrating, to say the least. As I bent my knees, weak from excitement, to place myself on\na nearby rock, I heard a voice. Strange as it was, I was under the impression that I was going mad. This was the first time I'd been alone in a long time,\nso it sort of made sense. Again. I stand and watch as a man, a stranger, peruses his way to my side. He looks uncomfortable, but almost as if he was expecting\nme. His eyes dazzled by us as if we weren't even human. The fear within him pierced my eyes like needles as his words struggled to leave his mouth. Does this\nmean we weren't the first? Have other before us made the same choices? He spoke to me, though not through words. At this moment, on this planet, I finally\nunderstood. Aliens hadn't existed for a very long time.",
"\"Sir, we have everything set up. When you're ready.\" With no response, the young man leaves and closes the door. \n\nAn older gentleman stands in front of a mirror while combing his hair. The black hair accompanied by streaks of grey and even white continued to be set in place just right. His dark eyebrows furrowed with every stroke. A beard so full and well kept, keeping his angular jawline.\n\nA delicate hand finds his shoulder from behind and glides to his chest over his dress shirt. It's met with a second hand holding a tie. A very sweet, yet powerful voice graces his ears, \"One of these days, you'll have to learn to tie your own ties.\" As she begins, he speaks for the first time all morning, \"Its this moment of every morning that brings me clarity before I start my day.\" He turns around as she finishes his tie. He places a kiss on her cheek. He walks out the door, leaving her in front of the mirror with her hand on her cheek thinking to herself, \"How could I be so lucky to have him?\"\n\nThe young man from before listens to his earpiece. \"He's on his way. Is everything good to go still?\" A rather eccentric individual with disheveled hair continues to bite his nails as he shoots back, \"Good to go? You mean compared to 15 seconds ago when you asked?\"\n\n\"Not today!\"\n\n\"I'm just saying that-\"\n\n\"He's here!\"\n\nThe older gentleman walks in with a burst through doors. \"Let's get started! Do we have all connections set correctly?\" The eccentric individual, somewhat falling over himself, \"Yes! Everything is in place and ready to go... and I must say, sir, it is truly an honor!\" The older gentleman furrows his brow, only this time with confusion and frustration. He has no time for this. The eccentric individual continues, \"oh right! Ok so you're just going to look into this little camera. This screen will show whoever is out there. We're just going to click here aaaaand now we are calling.\"\n\nThe call rings. And rings. And rings...\n\nFinally, there's an answer. There's a bad connection. The audio cuts in and out. The video is choppy.\n\nThe older gentleman speaks, \"Hello! This is-\" He's cut off immediately by the sound of amazement.\nA young voice is heard. \"Hhaaaa whoaaaa!\" The video clears up. A young man in his pajamas with a bowl of cereal slams his spoon down in his bowl. He laughs with a full mouth. \"Oh man! What's up, man? Man you guys are morons. Took y'all long enough to reach outside your world.\" He puts down the bowl and reaches to his side. He uncovers a large bong and takes a large hit. He coughs, \"My name's Tim!\"\n\nThe older gentleman hangs up. He sits in silence. The young man speaks after awhile, \"Sir?\n\n\"No one is to know about...Tim. We have found nothing.\" Before, anyone could speak, \"Nothing!\" He gets up and leaves the room.\n\nThe eccentric individual finally breaks the silence, \"I thought Tim was pretty rad...\"",
"We stared at the man, dumbfounded. No-one had expected anyone else to be here.\n\nYou see, for over a thousand years, humanity had set out in search of other intelligent life. First in sleeper ships. Then, as we developed faster than light travel, warp ships took up the flag, intercepting the sleeper ships and integrating them into their own crews. \n\nWe swept out in ever-expanding spiral patterns, searching. Probing. Hoping... but never finding anyone else.\n\nIn 2855, humanity was in a tizzy. After centuries of exploration without even so much as a single contact with another species, we finally picked up a transmission. It had been clearly artificial in nature, and our fastest warp ships headed straight for it. 32 years after we departed, we arrived to find a transmitter on a massive planet with crumbling infrastructure. A civilization had existed here, once. But no more. \n\nSo we continued to search, fruitlessly. We found a handful of similar planets, but none contained a single living being.\n\nThat was, until today. \n\nAs our shuttle crew stared at the man, and he stared back, our leader waited for him to speak. Seeing that he appeared perfectly content to stare at us in silence, our leader took the initiative.\n\nHe took a step forward, raising a hand in what we all thought was a friendly gesture. It was then that the man turned to his left, and a massive energy bolt erupted from the staff he was carrying, vaporizing a small building 500 meters away.\n\nOf course, we all dove for cover, but our leader... either fearless or stupid... just stood there, silently for a moment.\n\n\"Who... who are you?\"\n\nThe man turned slowly back towards our leader, and thumped the bottom end of his staff into the dirt.\n\n\"There are some who call me... Tim?\"\n\n\"Greetings, Tim,\" our leader said, gaining confidence.\n\n\"Greetings, Arthur,\" Tim replied.\n\n\"You know my name?\" Arthur asked incredulously.\n\n\"I do.\"\n\nTim whirled to the right this time, vaporizing a larger building, this time, much closer. We all continued hiding, but our fearless leader Arthur didn't flinch.\n\n\"You seek other lifeforms!\" Tim barked towards Arthur.\n\n\"We do,\" Arthur replied with some surprise. \"You know much about us that is hidden.\"\n\n\"Quite,\" replied Tim, as several small explosions went off around the party.\n"
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[WP] You wake up the day after a bachelor party. You are on the moon.
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"“Uh, Houston, we have a problem.” \n\n“What is it this time Armstrong? Did Buzz take your dessert again?”\n\n“More serious than that Houston. Uh, it looks like the Russians beat us to the moon after all.”\n\n“Sorry Armstrong, repeat that. It just sounded like you said there’s something on the moon.”\n\n“Houston, swear to God there’s something jumpin’ up and down on the moon right now waving to us. It’s wearing some crazy lookin' suit! Hold up Houston, there seems to be *two* beings down there!”\n\n“That’s impossible! The Russians haven’t notified anyone and there’s been no scheduled launches recently.”\n\n“Houston, you thinking what I’m thinking?”\n\n“Armstrong, I think you and Buzz may be the first humans to encounter extraterrestrial life. Continue with the mission as planned, we need to initiate contact. This’ll get us all the funding we could ever ask for.”\n____________________________________________________________\n\n“They’re coming! They saw me! They’re coming!” Dave shouted with excitement to no one in particular. His head still throbbed from the excessive amounts of alcohol he’d had at his bachelor party. His memory seemed to be damaged too, all he could remember was his alien buddy Quesor pulling out his dad’s time machine and fiddling with the buttons. That was 2403. Dave remembered pictures of the incoming lander from ancient history class. Somehow, they had ended up in freaking 1969.\n\n“Quesor, if you’re out here I swear to God I’ll personally deliver you to Area 51 for experimentation. I was supposed to get married today!”\n\nRunning towards the *Eagle*’s landing zone, Dave unceremoniously tripped on an outstretched alien leg and landed face-first on the gray surface below.\n\n“What the hell bro, that ain’t funny,” he yelled at Quesor as he emerged snickering, hidden behind a lunar boulder. “If there’s only space for one of us on that rust bucket you’d best believe I’m leaving your alien arse on this godforsaken rock!”\n_____________________________________________________________________________________________\nIf you like my style, consider checking out /r/droptopwrites!",
"I wake up with a terrible headache, but that sort of slipped my mind as I began to choke from the moon's lack of an atmosphere. I fell back asleep and brain damage occurred roughly six minutes later. I never woke up, which is strange considering I'm dead. Guess there is an afterlife.\n\n___\n\n\"Sir! You're not gonna believe this!\" The young man cried, slapping the folder onto his boss's desk.\n\n\"What is it, George?\" His boss asked impatiently.\n\nThe man smoothed his hair down and took out the satellite photos...\n\n___\n\nIf you want to read the stuff of a lurker, go to /r/ProtaokperWrites, my writing graveyard. [Thanks for reading!](https://youtu.be/YHzME9SOhLs?t=8)",
"I struggle to roll over onto my side, all to familiar with the upcoming bodily movement. Vomit flows out of my esophagus with the ferocity of a waterfall. It doesn’t splatter on the floor, but rather lingers in my face causing me to burst into a fit of coughing. I moan and brush the vomit away, returning to my stomach and hoping fall back into sleep’s tender grasp.\n\n‘Chris!’ I hear my name echoing in the distance. ‘Chris! Wake up.’ \n\nI keep my eyes pressed firmly shut, pleading that whoever is calling for my name loses their motivation. The throbbing sensation in my head is exacerbated by every word. \n\n‘Oh, I fucked up. I fucked up,’ the voice continued. ‘Chris, buddy. You should wake up!’\n\nUgh, that's not a good sign, I think. Slowly I open my eyes, blinking to soften the blow of the brightly lit room. It takes a moment for my surroundings to come into focus. \n\n‘What the fuck.’ \n\nAdmittedly, I’ve woken up in unexpected places in the past. Once, after a night of particularly heavy drinking in Singapore, I woke up in a police car. That wouldn’t have been necessarily astonishing, all things considered, except that I had been asleep at the wheel, dressed entirely in a police officer’s uniform. To this day, I’m still not entirely sure what had transpired.\n\nThis was different though. For one thing, I was floating. In fact, my vomit appeared to be floating as well.\n\nWell, there’s a first for everything, I thought, floundering helpless in the air in a pathetic attempt to rotate my body. I manage to gain control over my movements and slowly begin to swim through the air, taking inventory of the room. It appeared to be some sort of asylum, with plush, white material lining the walls. As I got a closer look, however, things became more clear. \n\n*I* *was* *in* *a* *space* *shuttle*. \n\nOn my right, I notice a series of nobs and buttons that were blinking white and red, inconsistent in their illuminating sequence. A fold-away bed lay above me with a seat-belt strapping the mattress and sheets to a plastic frame. I glance out the exit and see a long, narrow hallway with more electrical panels lining the walls. \n\n‘Chris, buddy. Where are you!’ the voice calls out, approaching my location. \n\nThe throbbing headache dampens my ability to grasp the gravity of the situation. Struggling to avoid spewing another round of vomit into the air, I begin to follow the voice in search of my friend. \n\n‘Nelson, you dumb motherfucker. Where are you!’ I yell out, immediately regretting the ill-advised decision. The sound of my own voice causes my temples to nearly explode. I cringe and struggle with every movement. Even in the no-gravity environment, my body is fighting my mind’s attempt to drag it around. \n\nI begin to piece together the events of last night. My friend’s bachelor party had been pretty standard, featuring the typical mid-class hooker and some magic mushrooms. Then, did we go to a bar? I strain my mind, trying to figure out how I had gone from a cheap motel to space in a matter of hours.\n\nWait. Had it only been hours? How long have I been unconscious?\n\nI glance down at my watch. The minute hand and the hour hand both spun in a continuous circle. There goes my grandfather’s Tag Heuer, I sigh. \n\nAs I reach the end of the hallway and make a 90 degree turn, I come face to face with Nelson. He stares at me with a look of distress on his face before he breaks out in laughter. \n\n‘Oh man. I fucked up.’ He says, before wiping a drop of vomit from my face. ‘How did you sleep?’\n\nI stare back, the disbelief beginning to set in. ‘Sleep!? Are we in space?’ \n\nHe chuckles and gives me a nod. He grabs a handful of my shirt and begins pulling me through the air. After a brief moment, we come to a stop in an adjacent chamber. He pushes me over to a window.\n\nAs I look out, my heart comes to a stop. The spacecraft had come to a rest in the dirt of a crater-filled planet. Floating carelessly in the sky where the sun would normally be was Earth. It looked so distant yet beautiful, the deep blue hue of the oceans painting its surface. Slowly, I begin to realize where we were.\n\n‘Nelson. Are we on the moon?’\n\nHe floats up beside me and his hand comes to rest on my shoulder. He gazes out at the sky, taking in the beauty of the galaxy. \n\n‘I can explain.’ \n",
"I opened my eyes slowly. It was dark, very dark. And quiet too. I could feel something cold and hard against my right cheek, and lifting my head a little I realised I was laying on the floor. Pushing myself up into a sitting position, my legs splayed out in front of me, a splitting pain shot through my head causing me to utter a small yelp and clutch my forehead.\n\n\"Ah! Lord almighty, what did I do last night?\" I asked myself, my voice echoing tinnily. \n\nWith effort, I pushed myself up into a standing position and fumbled around in the dark for something to hold onto and steady myself. Finding the edge of what I guessed to be a table or work surface, I leaned against it and began to take stock of what was happening. My mouth was dry, very dry and I suddenly became aware of how thirsty I was. The splitting pain was still there but was receding to a dull ache, and running my tongue over my teeth they felt gross and rough. There was an obvious after taste of alcohol too, which I knew didn't bode well. \n\n\"Need to find a light switch...\" I murmured and I began slowly fumbling around in the dark, feeling for objects and tapping unseen obstacles with my feet. Eventually, I pressed against what I figured was a wall and began following, running my hands along it to feel for an obvious switch or door handle.\n\nAfter a minute or two of nothing, I felt the raised profile of a control panel, and pressing my palm to it. It illuminated into a soft green, casting an eerie glow around. I looked behind me and could make out the shapes of pots and pans, cooking utensils and the smooth, metallic surfaces of food prep stations. I turned my attention back to the control panel and pressed the icon with a bulb.\n\nInstantly, the room was flooded with light and I felt another sharp pain go through my head as my eyes adjusted to the bright. As my vision came back, I could see I was indeed in a kitchen and a large one at that. Everything was spotless and neatly put in its place ready for whoever was next going to use it and had evidently been cleaned recently. My eyes fell upon a sink at the far corner of the room and again I became aware of my thirst. I walked over, turned the tap and lowered my head into the sink, drinking straight from the head of the tap, in large, greedy glugs. \n\nMy thirst sated, I stood up straight again and turning off the tap, noticed a door to my right. Its porthole was completely black and offered no clue as to what was beyond it. Feeling more in control of myself I headed for the door and pushed against it into the dark room. At first, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. It was still dark, but now that I was in the room proper, there was a faint glow of light cast over everything. It was a mess. Empty bottles lay everywhere and I could make out the outlines of furniture and other decorations that had been thrown around and left where they fell. Over the walls were splashes of some unidentifiable liquids and the carpet was covered in stains. To the left of where I stood, was a huge viewing window that looked out onto a gray, featureless mass of hills and craters and in the far distance I could make out the circular form of Earth. \n\nI was on the moon. \n\nSlowly, I wandered over to the window and pressing myself against it, looked out over the view beyond. From here I could see other parts of the building I was in. They were large, dome-like structures connected to one another via glass tubes, and they were dotted all over the flat expanse the facility had obviously been built on. Beyond these, were rolling gray hills and I could make out the shapes of rocks and craters, and looking up, there was the Earth. Its distinctive blue and green shining brightly against the darkness of deep space and surrounding stars. There were other dots of light too, but they were brighter and moving. It dawned on me eventually that they must be passenger shuttles coming to and from Earth to the space station just beyond the Moon's orbit. \n\nI pulled myself away from the glass and stumbled backward onto a couch that had been pushed in front of the window, presumably to allow it's mover a more comfortable viewing experience. I sat there a while, in the darkness taking in what I was looking at. What *had* happened last night? I thought hard, going over everything I could dredge up from the foggy clouds of my memory. I had been at a party, and obviously, a good one judging by the mess, but it wasn't any old party, not if I were on the moon. This must be one of the private function suites that had been all the rage a few years back, I decided. But where was everyone else? And why would we have paid through the nose for a private Moon suite when there were far cheaper ones on Earth that could accommodate much larger and boisterous parties?\n\nI heaved myself off the sofa and began looking for a light switch. Finding one, I switched it and had a better look my surroundings. It was indeed a mess, far worse than I'd been able to make out before. I headed over to a stack of leaflets that had been flung all over the room and picked one up. \n\nIt read:\n\n**Thank you for choosing Ashdown Lunar Suites for your Conference or Function!** \n\n**Our Aim is to deliver a top quality standard of service and we hope you enjoy your time in -- Lunar Suite 1970-APO13 --** \n\n**If you have any queries or complaints, please don't hesitate to call our service line on 202-555-9691 using the Vidphone provided** \n\nI looked up and over toward the door of the kitchen I'd come from. There was indeed a Vidphone fastened to it, it's handset hanging off the hook. I hopped over to it, leaflet in hand and punched in the number of the customer service line. Immediately, the face of a young blonde woman appeared on the screen.\n\n-click-\n\n\"Hello?\" She said, \"Ashdown Private Suites, who can I say I'm speaking to?\"\n\n\"Douglas Wakefield\" I responded, suddenly aware of how disheveled I must appear to this, admittedly, attractive young woman.\n\n\"Mr. Wakefield, can I ask how you're calling today? My computer says you're calling from one of our Lunar suites, but that can't be right. According to our records, it was vacated after a private function hosted by... oh, yourself actually.\"\n\nSo *I* had organised it. Why did I choose the moon when a suite in New York or Berlin or would have been far cheaper?\n\n\"Look, \" I said, \"I *am* in your Lunar suite, but I don't know why I'm still here. I'm on my own and the place is a tip. I don't suppose you could tell me what sort of function I hosted could you?\"\n\n\"It was a bachelor party looking at your invoice.\"\n\nSuddenly it came rushing back to me. Jennifer. The girl I was supposed to be marrying today. It was *my* bachelor party. That's why I'd arranged a Lunar suite. I'd wanted it to be a night to remember. \n\nI clutched at my face and let out the most pathetic whine I'd ever heard myself make! The guys! They must have left me here after the passenger shuttle was supposed to pick us all up and take us to the wedding this morning! The bastards!\n\n\"Mr. Wakefield? Are you still there?\"\n\nI realised I had let myself slump to the floor in my anguish and lifted myself back up to the screen. Composing myself I said:\n\n\"Yes, yeah, sorry... I'm still here... oh Lord almighty what am I going to do?!\" I yelled clutching my head again.\n\n\"Mr. Wakefield, please don't panic! The cleaning crew hasn't been to Lunar Suite 1970-APO13 yet so I can call ahead and ask them to pick you up on their way back\"\n\n\"You can?!\" I replied, relief flooding through me \"That's great! Oh, I could kiss you! I'm due at my wedding today at 12 EST, in Boston, do you think they'll be able to drop me off in time?\"\n\n\"Oh... I'm afraid they won't be there for at least a day and a half...\"\n\n\"A DAY AND A HALF?!\" I yelled, panic filling me again.\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr. Wakefield but the Moon is a big place! Even knowing you're stranded it would take at least half a day to send a recovery shuttle for you. The cleaning crew is already on the Moon but Ashdown Function Suites has a lot of sites! You'll just have to wait for them to reach you... I'd maybe suggest contacting a family member in the meantime...?\"\n\n\"Yeah, great, thanks for the advice\" I replied pinching the bridge of my nose. \"I'm sorry, I'm just bit...stressed. As you can imagine.\"\n\n\"That's fine Mr. Wakefield. I'll contact our cleanup crew and get them to you ASAP. There should be supplies of food and beverages stocked in the kitchen while you wait.\" \n\n\"Thank you...\"\n\n\"Vera\"\n\n\"...Vera.\"\n\n\"Not at all Mr. Wakefield. Thank you for choosing Ashdown Function Suites, and I hope I've been of help tod-\"\n\n-click-\n\nI hung up and leaned against the wall. I had to do it. Vera was right as much as I didn't want her to be. I picked up the handset again and dialed the number of my future mother in law.\n\n-click-\n\n\"Douglas?! Is that you? Where the bloody hell are you, the wedding begins in 45 minutes?!\"\n\n\"Can I speak to Jennifer please.\"\n\n\"The bride doesn't see the groom before the ceremony, it's tradition. Besides, she's getting her hair done right now. Any excuse you need to make you can make to me.\"\n\n\"Joan, please, can I just speak to her-\"\n\n\"*Anything* you need to say I can relay to her for you. Where you are would be a start\" she huffed.\n\nDefeated, I said, \"I'm on the moon\".\n\nMy future mother in laws face went from sour to full blown rancid.\n\n\"I...I... I can't even look at you right now!\" she hissed \"You'd better start making your excuses now and they'd better damned good ones because you've royally blown it this time!\"\n\n-click- \n\nThe screen went dark as she hung up. I placed the handset back on its hook and sat in front of the window again. I gazed up at the blue and green marble I called home and found a bottle that had somehow avoided being opened the night before. I cracked it open and held it up in a toast to the Earth.\n\n\"Here's to the happy couple I guess\"."
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EDIT: *One dragon finally wonders why. Stupid typo
I think this might be an interesting take on the dragon/knight/princess story.
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[WP] Since time immemorial, dragons have been kidnapping princesses. On dragon finally wonders why.
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"'Grandad, why do we kidnap princess's?'\n\nGrimclaw opened his large reptilian eye, the saucer sized pupil expanding and contracting as it adjusted to the bright noon day sun. Taking in a deep breath, the sunlight shimmering brilliantly off the emerald green scales of his expanding torso, he exhaled slowly. \n\n'An excellent question little one.' Grimclaw's deep voice rumbled. Nearby a flock of birds took flight from the oak trees, their panicked cries filling the air. 'You will soon be of age and might as well find out now.'\n\nRaising his head up off the green grass, the area in front of his nostrils scorched from the his hot breath, Grimclaw looked down at his grandson Highjumper regally as he prepared to impart the greatest knowledge a dragon will ever need to know. \n\n'Many, many millennia ago our kind used to inhabit another world. Like any civilization we had our ups and downs. We squabbled, we collaborated, we lived in relative prosperity with little real need. Our magic ran strong and flowed freely though our veins. If we desired it, we created it.' Grimclaw chuckled mirthlessly. 'Like all great stories that involve an even greater calamity, we soon entered a golden age the likes of which have never been seen, nor will be again. \n\n'The things we created with our magic back then...' he paused, a far away look in his golden eyes as he recalled the days of his juvenile years. Sighing sadly, he continued on. 'What we can do now is but a mere shadow of those things. Like all good things, our golden age came to an end. We had grown complacent in our prosperity and while we were blinded by our wonders, evil had crept into the hearts of some of our fellow kin. \n\n'We soon began to catch whispers and rumors of a small group among us that didn't agree with the way things were going. \n\n'No longer content to live peacefully, they began conspiring amongst themselves to overthrow our ruling council. They felt that they could do a much better job of governing our kin not as a council, but with a single ruler. Naturally we would have to pay tribute to this ruler in thanks for their wisdom in guiding our lives. \n\n'Their leader, Morningfrost, a massive snow white dragon just entering his prime, stood before the council proposing such an idea with eloquent speech and words dripping with honey. He was very charismatic and it was easy to see why he had garnered such a following but the council, seven elder dragons representing the seven different dragon races, were not fooled by his deceptive words. \n\n'They struck down his idea but it was too late. Morningfrost had known going in that the council would not accept his proposal so he had planned accordingly. No sooner had the elders dismissed the young white dragon then twenty young dragons of varying size, acting in unison, caste a containment spell over the seven elders and Morningfrost. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue for the seven elders, each one more than capable of dispelling such a thing by themselves, but Morningfrost had planned well. Woven throughout the containment spell were far more deadly spells, an isolation spell that cut off one's connection to their magic and a life leach spell. The effect was almost instantaneous on the elders but not Morningfrost. No, he had come to the meeting heavily warded against the ill effects of the spell caste. \n\n'What ensued next was a bloody, one sided massacre. Devoid of their magic and of failing strength and life, the seven elders were no match for the might and vigor of the much younger dragon but that doesn't mean they didn't put up a fight. One of the elders, a cunning cobalt blue female, had managed to deal the only real damage to Morningfrost in the form of three long deep scars on the left side of his face that left him blind in his left eye. \n\n'By the time help arrived, it was over. The rescuers stared in horror at the sight of the seven elders mangled and bloody bodies but even more so at the bloody, malicious, grinning face of Morningfrost and his twenty followers behind him. Of the ten that arrived, only two managed to escape with the news. \n\n'Over the next few years what took place was a viscous, bloody war that ravaged the lands, killed off thousands of our kin, and resulted in Morningfrost getting everything he wanted. Almost. You see, there were some of us that still resisted despite the overwhelming odds against us. In our hour of desperation we came up with a plan so outrageous that it actually worked. ",
"'One of the dragons on our side had been dabbling in portal magic before all this and had discovered a strange new land full of funny little flesh creatures that walked on their hind legs. He proposed that we all escape there and start over rather than continue to fight this losing war. After discussing the merits of such an idea, it was widely agreed upon but with one condition, that they leave behind something that Morningfrost would never see coming. \n\n'Three nights later we were ready. With a portal open behind us, all our loved ones and friends around us, and our plan in place, we set in motion our final act of defiance against the tyrannical rule of Morningfrost. Casting a massive dome of protection about our group we set about casting our parting gift; an infertility spell. Yes, there were still some dragons that refused to join either side that would be affected, but we were desperate and running out of time. \n\n'Just as dawn began to peak over the horizen, the rays of the sun brought to light a dark cloud in the sky before us. Morningfrost and all his minions had come to see us off. Many of us began to panic but the few voices of well seasoned elders managed to calm the bulk of us down. The spell was still a few minutes away from being caste but the protection spell would not only keep us safe from the effects but also from Morningfrost, they reasoned. Sadly, we still hadn't fully learned from our past mistakes. We had traitors in our midst. \n\n'With our plan all but complete and the spell almost ready to caste, our protection spell fell just as Morningfrost neared, his face twisted in a gleeful smile that dropped with murderous intent. With a full half of our numbers focused on the incantations of the infertility spell and another third just on holding the large portal open, that didn't leave very many to actually defend us. With a demeaning roar that drowned out the rising cries of terror, those that could took flight to do battle with Morningfrost in an effort to buy time knowing that they were going to their deaths. \n\n'Bravely those few dragons fought, albeit very shortly, it was enough. A shockwave of golden energy burst forth from our group as the spell was completed, the force of which was enough to knock Morningfrost and his minions from the sky. With our protection dome gone, we had just doomed our kind to extinction as every dragon save for a few younglings that we managed to get through the portal once we realized we had been betrayed had been rendered infertile. \n\n'We thought we were in the clear but we were mistaken. An unforeseen side effect of the spell had left every dragon caught by it weak. Though knocked down, Morningfrost was not out yet. He and his minions resumed their pursuit as we tried valiantly to escape. Only a third of us made it through before the portal collapsed in on itself due to our casters being attacked and slaughtered.'\n\nGrimclaw paused and fell silent for a long time. After a while Highjumper opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Grimclaw cleared his throat loudly. 'Anyways,' he began again. 'With our numbers so drastically reduced, and the fertile ones even fewer, we set about our new home world with a resolve to pick ourselves up off the floor and rebuild. \n\n'What we couldn't have known was that this world held very little in the way of magic. Our greatest assets and abilities were reduced to a mere fraction of their former power. To make matters worse, the indigenous species did not take too well to our sudden appearance in their world. They were ingenious little flesh bags, not afraid of dying to try and bring us down. You have to admire them for that. In our first year here they managed to a third of us, most of which were our fertile younglings. A decade later and we were down to only two males and a female who could reproduce and it would still be another decade before she was old enough to mate. \n\n'We almost made it. The flesh bags somehow found our stronghold and slew our last remaining fertile female. We thought all hope was lost. For a while there, it was. Then one bright young mind made a startling discovery a few years later. Through various experiments, he discovered that it was possible to take our infertile eggs and seed and implant them into the female flesh bags through magic. Desperate to not die out, we embraced this new way of reproducing. \n\n'Many of our first few attempts did not survive the process, the host either dying during the impregnating or from complications throughout and up to the actual birth attempt. Eventually we hit upon the solution when our first successful delivery came from a female of noble blood. Granted the host died shortly after giving birth for reasons we weren't sure of but what did we care? We had our first real hope of surviving in the form of a beautiful egg with a living dragon inside. \n\n'We took extra special care to conceal and incubate this egg in which all our hopes and dreams rested on. A year later it hatched, revealing a healthy baby dragon. A few months later, when we were sure it wasn't going to die, we began in earned our new breeding program. Sure, we still had some kinks to work out in the process as some hosts were still dying before bringing to term our eggs but we were just happy to have found something that worked. It wasn't until later that we realized our new younglings were no different that the wild predators that roamed the land. \n\n'Normally a baby dragon begins to show signs of higher intelligence around three years of age and as late as five years old in some extreme cases, but when the very first one reached year six and still showed no sign of higher intelligence, we began to panic. We began trying varying methods, minor tweaks in the impregnating process really, in hopes that we could produce a legitimate offspring. Unfortunately the mortality rate of the hosts skyrocketed again so we were back to square one basically. \n\n'We named the new breed of dragons Wyverns as there were smaller and lacked anything above a predator's intelligence. \n\n'And so,' concluded Grimclaw, 'here we are today, very few in numbers, dangerously low on magic, still trying to get the formula right that will allow us to successfully reproduce through the pure blood of a noble, a princess, while the flesh bags continue to hunt and kill off our less kin, the Wyvern.'"
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[WP] The second coming of Jesus happens during rush hour in Manhattan, everyone is annoyed.
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"It was bad enough that I was already late. Traffic was backed up all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge. I wasn't even halfway across it when the clock struck eight thirty. And when I finally made it across, the heavens opened and shat out a beam of light, which landed some forty feet from my car.\n\nAnd then came the guy with a beard. He floated down from between the clouds, following the ray of light. Of fucking course, *everyone* had to stop and gawk at it. \n\nI was practically laying on my horn at that point. \"Hurry the fuck up!\" I yelled, rolling my window down to make myself heard. \"Go see a David Blaine show if you wanna see some magic asshole!\"\n\nYeah, sure, I knew the flying dude was Jesus. But I had a fucking job to get to, and performing party tricks on bottles of water wasn't about to save me from getting fired.\n\nAnd that's how I got arrested for running Jesus himself over. "
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[WP] The future is here! And it's convenient and affordable!
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"\"Welcome to McDonald's!\"\n\nThe line disappears from my retina display.\n\n\"Would you like to set a calorie limit for today's eat-in?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"How much?\"\n\n900 calories, please.\n\n\"Thank you! Based on your previous dining experiences, these are your recommended options.\"\n\nOption 2.\n\n\"Thank you for eating with McDonald's today! Your order is #295 and will be ready in about 3 minutes.\"\n\nA progress bar appears in the corner of my eyes and I hear a beep as my bank account is updated.\n\n\n\nLooks like it should be done soon.\n\n\n\nI hear another beep as my order is ready and I walk over to the counter to grab my dinner.\n\nOption 2 is pretty good.\n\n\"How was your meal?\"\n\n4 out of 5 stars.\n\n\"What went wrong?\"\n\n5 out of 5 stars.\n"
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[WP] Magic exists. It's just quite subtle.
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"John blows out a sigh while we are playing DnD.\n\n\" It is not supposed to be like this. \" He said, following after with my confusing face.\n\n\" What ? \"\n\n\" Magic. \" \" It is not supposed to be like this. \"\n\nJohn Krauger, an anthropologist, also a secret cult member and a half-of-an-ass mage, saying something makes me a little bit confused.\n\n\" So, what is it supposed to be ? I mean magic, you practice it before, right ?\"\n\n\" Well, we never use magic to ask something unachievable. Like freezing a frog at a summer noon, or conjuring some demonic familiar or something. Based on Frazer theories, it is a subtle level of technology\"\n\n\" It really does exist ? \" My voice suddenly turns to a pitch mixing in suprising and excitement.\n\n\" Yes. Not like DnD when you can burn your enemy, freeze them or doing some darkness stuff. It is far more subtle, and most of them have harmony to the nature as the core, so we never could use it as the science technological level.\"\nHe stops for a while and takes a sip of beer. \" We don't blow things up, turn people into animals, root their feet, stun them or something on that level of destruction.\" \"We have system, and conduct rituals, not to manipulate the law of nature but to achieve a higher viewpoint, some even want to transcend into a higher existence... but that is still far from our cult current state. \" \n\n\"But still, we can conjure natural phenomenon.\" With a smirk and his pinky heads up the roof, suddenly one of my card falls to the floor."
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[WP] Time has forgotten music, Then one day someone stumbles across The Beatles: Abbey Road.
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"“John pissed his bed again, sheets are in the wash,” I said, buttoning my shirt. Marilyn's acknowledging half smile weighed heavier on me this morning – another sizzling coal within. “Alright,” I nodded, “off to work now.”\n\nI spent my commute imaging the reprimand I’d receive for my third tardy this week. The fantasy of my responses made the ride feel shorter. Interrupting a particularly brutal scenario, the hollow subway alert, “Midtown number four.”\n\nJalen’s suit was crisper than usual. Knowing what he was about to say made me want to hit him before he had the chance, “Shit, Alton. It’s after 9!”\n\n“Yes, sir. It was a tough morning at home, sir.”\n\n“Just get to your station,” his arms shot up and turned me toward my office.\n\nI made my way down the white LED hallway, each step feeling heavier. I hated my boss, hated my job, hated so many things.\n\n“Breathe deep,” I whispered to myself. \n\nI turned into my office and cringed as the lights shot on. “Good Morning, Alton,” Cynthia chimed.\n\n“Yeah, sure,” I blurted.\n\nWithout probing, Cynthia continued, “Shall we continue with file 3Q-504?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\nThe file, which I should have finished yesterday, was brightly glaring at me from the opposite wall.\n\nI was working my way through data backups from the 23rd century. My job, which was growing increasingly overwhelming, was to recover historical production and sales data for Transcorp. To be honest, most of the drives I analyzed were filled with garbage – mirrored data, porn, shoddy presentations, mundane project correspondence.\n\nThe morning dragged. My lunch, which was delivered ten minutes late and just in time to for Jalen’s time management lecture, was cold by the time I got to it. The reheated coffee on my desk was the only thing keeping me sane.\n\n“File 3Q-505,” Cynthia boomed. Startled, I bumped my desk, sending my coffee tumbling toward the concrete floor. The metal cup struck the concrete tiles with a sharp ping. Its contents sprayed across the floor.\n\n“Goddammit,” I shouted.\n\n“Please, Alton. No need for abusive language.”\n\n“Shut the hell up,” I shot back.\n\n“Alton, please. Can we continue?”\n\nI closed my eyes, took a deep breath to steady myself, “Yes.”\n\nCynthia continued, “Alton, file 3Q-505 content is not in a recognized format. Permission to run external format analysis?”\n\n“Granted.”\n\n“File analysis complete – encryption broken. Analysis shows that the file contents may be illegal. Shall I proceed?”\n\nI hadn’t heard this warning before. “Yes,” I blurted emphatically, “what is it?!”\n\n“File One-A, The Beatles, Abbey Road.”\n"
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[WP] If you have depression you live in the past, if you have anxiety you live in the future. What happens when you have both?
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"I could feel new hearts starting to develop in my chest, each beating a second after the last and looping, \"I shouldn't exist, I shouldn't be alive. What's going to happen now?\" I asked nervously to a government agent across the table who was questioning me. \"Ma'am, it's not as uncommon as you think. It just doesn't get talked about a lot, it's something that could be easily exploited. So, you're a registered Time Lord now. If you think you're starting to hear drums beating everywhere, please let us know, we have a solution for that. Otherwise, you're being allotted a sonic screwdriver, a notepad of psychic paper\". The agent sighed, reading over a script. I thought to myself that he's probably depressed, and wondered how I might be able to improve that for him, before he spoke on, \"So, Time Lords can as one might gather travel backwards and forwards in time. In a year or two, you may be able to develop a bond with a TARDIS. Here's a pamphlet, it explains the rest\". And he stood up and walked out, leaving me to make sense of everything.\n\nIt turns out time is a wibbly wobbly timey wimey sort of thing, rather than a linear progression forwards and backwards. I'd met a few time lords in my time and a few of us dedicated ourselves to improving the lives of others, knowing that there isn't much hope for Time Lords, just depression and anxiety. Still, it eases the burden a bit knowing that someone else's burden can be lessened a bit. That they get a few more chances to succeed than they might otherwise. I still worry about mucking about with time lines a lot, and am filled with apprehension about what sort of terrible demise I will meet. I know the pamphlet mentioned regeneration, but it sounds unpleasant. And I'm not so sure I'd still be 'me' afterwards."
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[WP]: The first time you met your father, you were twenty years old and he was stuck in a bird cage in your mentor's office. "I can explain", he said, and tried.
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"\"But sir,\" I said, sidestepping the greatsword coming down toward my head. \"When do I find out what my destiny is?\"\n\n\"The purpose to which a Chosen One is called is revealed at the exact moment it is supposed to be, and not a minute sooner,\" Oraf answered, dislodging his over-sized sword from the patch of dirt I was standing on moments before. \n\nWith a quick roll, I slipped behind my mentor and threw him in a headlock. \"That's not really an answer sir. When will that time come?\"\n\n\"Nnnnnnnnnnnghh rrrrrrrrrffffffffff,\" he said. His face started reddening. Oraf dropped his sword and tapped firmly on my leg twice. I loosened my grip.\n\nOraf sucked in a couple of deep breaths before repeating his answer. \"It will be revealed when you are ready. Which I believe you may be, based upon this day's performance.\"\n\nMy face brightened. For nearly a decade I had been under the old man's tutelage, learning various martial arts and the ancient philosophies of the Chosen One. In times of great consequence, a Chosen One would be called to fulfill their destiny. A challenge would become apparent, and whether a Chosen One successfully met that challenge would determine the fate of the world. I was a Chosen One, and Oraf my mentor, was preparing me for my destiny.\n\n\"Is today really the day?\" I asked, excitement creeping into my voice.\n\nOraf smiled his usual soft, knowing grin. \"Not today. Go have a meal and rest up. I will consult the fates. Tomorrow may well be the day.\"\n\nMy shoulders sagged, and I trudged back inside the old abandoned temple that had been my home all these years. I ate a simple dinner of rice and vegetables, and then went to sleep.\n\nI woke the next morning feeling unusually well rested. I stretched and saw that the sun was already up. I sat up, concerned that Oraf hadn't come and woken me. Ever since I had come to live with him, he had made sure to wake me before sun up.\n\nI put on my training robes and walked down the cool stone hallway towards his bed chamber. I poked my head in, but saw no sign of him. \"Oraf!\" I called. My shout echoed faintly off the time worn bricks. I strained to hear a response, but none came. \n\nI wandered through the rest of the temple, but found no trace of my master. My heart started pounding, terrified that something had happened to him in the night. He was the only person I had left. We'd been through so much together. \"Oraf!\" I shouted again, getting frantic.\n\nStill no response. There was only one place I hadn't looked. The cellar. Oraf had forbidden me since the day I had gotten here from going down there, and had lashed out harsh punishments for even asking about what was hidden beneath our feet. I took a deep breath and climbed down the stairs.\n\nIt was pitch black and smelled damp. The stairs emptied out into some kind of long room, at the far end of which was a door, outlined by the light coming from within it. \"Oraf?\" I called again uncertainly. Silence was the only answer I received. \n\nI felt my way across the room, reaching the door in a minute filled with unrepentant fear. I grabbed the hooped piece of metal that served as the door handle and gave it a tug. The door swung open. My eyes widened as I took in the scene.\n\nOn the other side of the door was a well appointed room, one half of which was a covered in books, notes, and arcane drawings. The other half had my master standing nonchalantly, smiling gently at me. Next to him was a massive iron cage. Gripping the bars from inside was a man with a terrified look on his face. It was my father, the man I hadn't seen since I was a boy.\n\n\"Dad?\" I asked confused.\n\n\"Garrett! Oh, son. I'm so sorry. But run! Don't listen to this crazy man! He kidnap-\" my father shouted, before being silenced from a quick strike of Oraf's wooden staff.\n\n\"Garrett, the day of your destiny has arrived,\" Oraf said. \"First, you must destroy the last tie to your old life. Then we can meet the next challenge.\"\n\n\"Just run, Garrett! Get out of here!\" my father shouted, still a heap on the floor.\n\n\"You told me my parents were dead,\" I said confused.\n\n\"Yes, a required piece of your training,\" Oraf said. \"And now the time has come to complete it. Kill your father.\"\n\n\"I can't,\" I said after a moment. \"It's my father. I can't do this.\" \n\n\"The fate of the world is at stake,\" Oraf pressed. \"You would put one life ahead of the fate of the world?\"\n\n\"One *innocent* life,\" I said. \"And this doesn't make any sense. Let him out. We can still save the world.\"\n\n\"I can't let him out. If you try to release him, I will stop you,\" Oraf said matter of factly. \n\n\"Son,\" my father said, finally picking himself up off the floor. \"This is insanity. He's lied to you from the beginning. Just run away. Forget about me.\"\n\n\"I'm not leaving you Dad,\" I said moving toward the cage. Oraf stepped in my path drawing a sword.\n\nTears started welling up in my eyes. \"It doesn't have to be this way,\" I pleaded.\n\n\"Yes it does, son. Yes it does,\" Oraf said. There was a twinge of sadness in his voice. \n\nI took another step forward, and Oraf moved to meet me. He slashed quickly with his sword, but I parried out of the way. Oraf moved with a determined quickness, resetting himself in my path.\n\n\"Please,\" I said, moving forward again. Oraf's blade flew once more. I tried to dodge, but the blade sliced across my midsection. \n\n\"Garrett!\" My father shouted. \"Leave me!\"\n\n\"No!\" I responded through gritted teeth. My training was taking over. I advanced again, slipping under Oraf's attack. I landed a closed fist in Oraf's midsection. Quick as lightning, my hands flew to the arm gripping the sword. A well placed elbow strike bent the old man's arm as I forced his hand over. In a flash it was over. Oraf was impaled on his own sword.\n\n\"Garrett,\" Oraf said weakly. \"You have done well. Go forth a meet your destiny.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" I said.\n\n\"You have proven your strength of heart,\" the old man answered, blood leaking out of his mouth. \"It is as the fates foretold. You *are* the Chosen One.\" Oraf let out an unsettling gurgle.\n\n\"Garrett,\" my father said. \"I'm sorry for all you had to go through. And all that I missed. But your training is complete now son.\"\n\nI stared at my father. He looked back warmly at me.\n\n\"Well don't just stand there! Let me out. We've got to go get your mother.\"\n\n*****\n\nRead my other prompt responses by subscribing to [Pubby's Creative Workshop](https://www.reddit.com/r/Pubby88)\n\n\n\n"
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[WP]: Your band has written a new song, playing it live has summoned someone, or something.
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"It was just a sound. It was an accident really. We were playing our usual set. Trying to get it right. I made this sound with my guitar. Half playing. Half grazing the strings. The sound gave me a sudden burst of energy. We all felt it. A gust of wind ran through us. \n\nWe were in the garage. \n\nThe windows were shut. The garage door was down and locked in place with no open crevasses or cracks. This wind and that energy was all we got. \n\nI tried to replicate the sound but I just couldn't get it right. Jerry was kinda freaked out by the whole thing. He went home and hasn't been answering our calls. He was only second guitar anyway.\n\nI became obsessed. My hands ached. My fingers bled. We were sitting around the garage when it happened again. I kept at it making the sound and feeling its effects over and over again. Something stirred within me. Something was egging me on making me feel like I needed more.\n\nI cleared my mind and played.\n\nThe song that came gave me a tingle in my shoulders. The rest of my band seemed to follow along. We played something otherworldly as the garage walls fell away. The floor of the garage was all that remained while the rest became a cavernous cave of luminescent mushroom covered walls.\n\nWe remained raised on our garage-floored mountain. It felt as though I was watching myself at this point. Below us, there was a dark pit of unknowable depth. Something rose from that pit. With, twisted horns and a single red eye, the one who called himself Bethmaya rose. \n\nThe seemed to carry us the rest of the way. Worldwide fame was our reward while we still do not know the price. We see him, here and there. He always seems to be waiting."
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[WP] You've lived on an island all by yourself for over a year. You decide to venture to the other side, and are surprised by what you find.
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"9:37 am, April 16 2018\nAnother tally another day, it's been about 497 days since I've been stuck on this shit mound of on island. I have finally found enough resources to venture further perhaps even to the other side. I pack up the items I've salvaged from the plane and food I've found from the forest and head out.\n\n10:42 am, same day\nI've been walking for what I estimate is an hour, so far I haven't found anything new just familiar forest. I've made plenty of mental notes in my head when exploring these forests, it's the one thing I'm actually good at, so I know that this is explored area. For now I shall push on.\n\n1:09 pm, same day\nI have breached unfimiliar are now, I must be careful. I am becoming fatigued and dehydrated as it is one of the hottest days I've seen yet. I shall make camp for a small while and drink up the press on once I feel better.\n\n8:56 pm, same day\nI have not seen anythings that points to me getting out of here yet, for now I shall make camp and rest for the night.\n\n10:14 am, next day\nI have been up for an hour or so now, I have eaten and freshened up. I am ready to continue on my way.\n\n2:36 pm same day\nI have officially done it I have made it to the edge of the forest, I am eager to see what is beyond the perimeter. *Muffled sound of rushing leaves as man runs* finally I have made it... I.. it's just beach. I am unsure what I was expecting but maybe there is something further down the coast line. I will continue and update if there is any discoveries.\n\n3:08 pm, same day\nI have ventures into the forest again to protect myself from the sun, I am still following the coast line however but I have heard noises coming from out side the border I I'm unsure if it is laughter or music, maybe both. I will venture out and see what this is. *More sounds of rushing leaves* I can't believe this. It's... It's.. Tala lulu island's nudist resort and spa... ",
"I had been on the Island for a year when I found it. I had been alone, hurtling around the sun for only one ellipse and yet it felt like one thousand. \n After a few months of being alone, you stop obsessing over those you miss, those that abandoned you. You learn how to live in the present. You learn how to swim through ribbons of nostalgia in the silver lakes of your own mind. \n I realise now that time as we know and experience it is merely a byproduct of human interaction. When you have no place to be, have no-one to meet, the constructs of time fall away around you. You are left stranded on your own Island, smeared in the present moment. By the end I didn't feel abandoned by man, I felt abandoned by time. I felt it had robbed me of my future and thus laid waste to my past.\n I had just made it to the other side of the Island for the first time. The journey was long and laborious. I had set out to travel to the other side many times but I had always given up mentally before I had even started. The rocky, unstable terrain had beat me psychologically before I had even entered the thick jungle barrier that looms just beyond the jagged cliffs. This time I had switched off my mind. This time I had swam through the murky waters that swirled around my head and let my body take the beating. The skin fell from the souls of my feet like wet tissue paper. Insects made the folds and creases of my body their new home. It took me around two days to make it through to the other side of the Island and I emerged stronger, not a new man, I was no longer sure I was a man but I was stronger.\n A picture of you sat proud on the beach. You looked up at me and time started to rain down on me and fill my lungs. It was small, a passport photo perhaps. There were tones of pieces of litter on the Island. A half bottle of Sprite had once washed up on the beach. I had taken tiny sips of it for three whole weeks, the sweet taste was intense and so to was the feeling of euphoria when the clear syrup painted my lips. \n I had utilised all sorts of rubbish but this was different. I hadn't laid eyes on another human for one year and there you were, your eyes ocean blue, your hair the colour of coconut husks, your skin sun kissed and beach brown. The wallet the picture had come from was just beside it and was stuffed full with notes, \"How useful\" I had thought, \"Something to burn\". \n For that day you were no longer someone else's girlfriend, you no longer were a stranger to this Island. You lived with me, we had faced the Island together, the skin fell from your feet also so I had carried you, promising you a warm fire and a square meal at the end. You gave me back my grip on time, just for a day, I had a future and I wasn't scared of what would become my past. A picture of you. ",
"I sat on the ocean’s edge on a day I could no longer hope to count to. I tried to leave, honest, I did. It’s not as simple as a movie dictates. No normal human who was simply taking a vacation from office work could hope to pull something like that off. It took several months to create a shelter and a semi-functioning boat, only for them both to be destroyed by one storm.\n\nAs it stands, I’ve been dedicating my time to giving into hopelessness. Instead of establishing a home, venturing into the dangers of who-knows-what in that forest, or re-creating something to get off of this potential vista, I sit here from dusk til dawn. The only real thing on my daily agenda is acquiring food. Every other second of my existence I watch the shadows in the shallows movewhile digging into the heated sand with a stick.\n\nAt first it was to mark how many days I’d been stranded. As a--or at least I’d like to think--typical human being would, I wrote it in tallies. It was easy until it got into the two-hundreds. I got sick of counting the scores, though I could’ve invented a simpler system. Although, that time has long passed now and I am beyond caring, marking my way down the shore with silly little doodles and puns.\n\nI sighed as I stood up to move to the next patch of sand I could create something stupid to laugh at. Lightning sounded in the distance as if mocking my decision. I screamed some obscenities into the nothingness to ‘better myself’, though, I think I’m really starting to lose it. Halfway through my next masterpiece of a squid making an ink joke, I heard fire crackling. Only, I hadn’t started a fire. \n\nAverting my gaze back upwards into the blue abyss I saw a torrent of black wind roaring close by. It wasn’t a tornado, or, at least, it didn’t appear to be. The base of the mass appeared almost circular--as far as I could tell--as it descended upon the surface of the water. It looked violent with its streaks of lightning flashing on its outermost layer and its vortex of gales spiraling into the sky in an attempt to shut out the sun.\n\nThe more seconds I waited the more I felt the urge to run. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ever-growing cloud until fear overtook me. I didn’t think, just turned and ran blindly into an unexplored place. Several times my footfalls almost failed me, threatening to make me drop into the mud and look behind me. There was no time to spare as it may only daunt me into believing there’s no reason to run, to succumb to my inner despair that I’ve been barely able to keep at bay.\n\nThe crackling was now nothing but a distant echo as the horizon disappeared into nothing but a dense forest made of a menagerie of greens. I slowed my retreat out of necessity, hoping for even a small respite. My chest ached, I felt dehydrated, and all I could hear was my wild heartbeat. Being a completely competent adult, I left what little supplies I had behind.\n\nEverything previously had blurred together, and a feeling of newfound exploration felt great- until I took another step forward without looking. My foot went over the edge of a cliff and nearly sent me hurtling down. I groaned in annoyance. Down below was a large settlement spanning upwards to where I was. A system of wooden bridges climbed up the sides and even dared to suspend themselves over a dark pool of water beneath. There were buildings clinging to the walls. Their windows were just holes and I could barely see lights inside. \n\nI looked back behind me, knowing I was better off now within the clutches of a society. I need only wonder, are they friendly?",
"1 year ago this day was when I walked the plank, I was the captain of shitty-grey, but due to mutiny I was overthrown from my position and was forced to walk the plank, there was an island nearby so I swam there after untying the knots....I am a sailor for crying out loud what do you think I don't know how to untie a knot..\nSo anyway, I reached the island and began to live on coconuts, and waited for any ship that passes by, but no ship sailed these waters as far as I knew.\nWell I thought better start making arrangements for permanent residence in this place, I found a nice cave much above the water level, made it cosy with moss and leaves.\nNow for food arrangements, I had the sea in front of me and I knew how to catch a fish, so no big deal there, got my fish, started a fire and purified water, life had taken a nice routine, it was nice all this silence for miles, just the thrashing of waves and sound of insects chirping at the night, a life without care, just me and the old sea....\nBut today I thought of going to the other side of the island, I had seen in movies and read in some books when a person goes to the other side he might find civilisation and can be rescued, as I had gotten pretty bored of this I started moving in the morning with 2 coconuts full of water and it took me till afternoon to arrive at the other side, the island was very big you see...\nI was shocked what I saw there, it was unbelievable,\nIt was just not possible, no one was there, no people dancing and singing or a hotel, not even a plastic bottle.... Shame...\nWell, what can you do now, I think maybe I should make a boat or something and go search for civilisation,\nOn second thoughts nah, too much work, too much risky and they are a bunch of assholes anyway, kinda is fun this way, am the king of this island, I should make a throne for me to sit on.......",
"As I etch the 365th scratch into my cave's wall, I think about my past year. I left the world behind, my fiance, my family, everything. I left it all in the pursuit of something more. I had wanted to live, to survive, to feel that primal rush we had lost so many years ago. And you know what? It ended up being just an okay year, in all honesty. It was fun, for the first couple weeks. I found that urge, that rush to live. But then everything became routine. Collect water, gather food, improve the cave, make tools. Everything just started to blur. So, for my one year anniversary, I decided I would treat myself, and go to the side of the island I swore I would never go to again. Their side.\n",
"Journal Entry: Week 62\n\nYesterday was the day. \nAfter weeks spent trying to find a ford, I had almost given up on ever crossing the river. \nThe Mountain towered over my attempts, and the noise of the waterfall far back was like a constant laughter.\n\nAnd yet I made it. The tropical storm of three days ago, the one that almost destroyed my hut, wasn't all bad news, turns out. One of the high, old trees was knocked over by the wind, falling over the rapids and offering an unstable bridge. I ensured it to the ground with some of those liana vines that are growing everywhere, and off I went on all fours, the water roaring under me.\n\nI must have lost more weight than I thought since I was stranded, as the tree didn't seem to move at all. It was wet, musky, and scary, but in a matter of minutes I had safely reached the other side. Phew! I took a minute to rest and breathe: I was safe. For now at least.\n\nThe other side. Where should I start? No, no, I will go in order.\nFirst, I cautiously checked for traces. Judging my immediate surroundings relatively safe, I looked for eggs. I was really keen on eating some again, and I can confirm that they are as abundant on the other side as they were on mine. As usual, I cooked them in ashes, and had an excellent meal.\n\nMy energy restored, I set out to the Mountain. Finally, after three months of setbacks, I could resume my attempts at climbing it. I was sure I would have had better luck on this side. I had to. \nThe questions started to invade my mind again. Will I ever find a way up? What dangers lie on the road? And of course: what will I see from the top? Is it really an island? \n\nWithout noticing it, I had started running. The adrenaline ran through my body as a powerful drug, and I felt unstoppable. \nFinally, I would know.",
"\"You've got to be kidding me,\" I said to myself as I made it over the ridge that ran through the middle of the island. I was standing on a plateau, overlooking the neglected half of my prison. It was 20 acres of jungle and beach that I avoided at all costs up to this point. If I wanted to stay alive I had to. Because that's where the island's inhabitants lived. Every night, I listened to their drums, cringed as their people wailed through the night, and smelt their burning fires. For a year, I lived my life in fear.\n\nThey were a savage breed. I grew up in rural Canada, and even though I watched my fair share of documentaries on indigenous tribes, I have never seen anything of the sort. I can recall one daytime hunt stalking a wild bird, when I was chased by three naked members of their tribe. They did not stop until one of their leaders yelled repeatedly across the jungle \"You fucked up! You fucked up!\" In an instant, the naked men lost interest in me and returned back to the village. From that day forward I was terrified of them. Sometimes when they ventured to my side of the island I hid and watched from a distance.\n\nThey stumbled around like they lacked balance. They left a lingering odour in the air that I could smell from a mile away. It stunk like fermented fruits. They fornicated out in the open without any regard for personal hygiene or privacy. I decided that they must be the last of a dying breed of people. That their way of life, while contrastive to my own, had its own merits and had survived for hundreds of years. The day I decided to cross the barrier to their side of the island, was the day I ran out of water and food. I needed their help.\n\nAs I stood on the plateau and I looked down at the tribe I had feared for a year, war drums turned to electronic DJs on the beach, smoky fires turned to BBQs, and the wailing I heard before was now joyful and jubilant cheering.\n\nI got closer to their village and the three naked men who chased me before were now wearing bathing suits and sunglasses. They approached me with a big smile. \"Dude you took that game seriously, I swear the next time we play Manhunt, you are on my team!\"\n\nI read a sign that was directly behind them: \"Lost Tribe Luxury Resort.\"\n\n",
"Since I got stranded on this island, I have felt scared and lonely. I fell over board and nobody noticed. At least they did not notice quick enough because they did not come back for me. The ship was too quick for me to follow so I lost track of it soon. I am a good swimmer so I swam and fought the waves, stranded on this island and now I spend my days waiting on the beach, staring at the sea. Sometimes I run into the forrest to find prey or to eat fruit and plants, whatever I can find will do. I lost weight since I got here but that does not hurt, loneliness hurts. \n\nAt least 300, possibly 400 days of me staring at the sea and hunting and searching for food have gone by. I hope they will come to look for me, but maybe they can't find me. My friend Mark was on the ship and he is the one I miss the most. We were the best friends in the world and now I don't know where he is. \n\nToday, I ran into the forrest to hunt, because my stomach told me to. I am quick and I am smart, I usually find food quickly. It's a good thing, because I don't want to miss them coming for me so I need to sit and look for them as often as possible. But something was different, hunting in the forrest. I smelled something. I have never gone deep into the forrest, why would I anyway but now I fearlessly ran in there, following the track my nose told me to follow. I ran, ran on until I left the woods, ran some more, following a path at the beach, found some people's camp and wiggled my tail and barked and if you ever wonder what happiness feels like you should have seen me jump against Mark's chest to push him to the sand and lick his tears of joy off his face. \n\n "
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I have to admit I got chills just thinking of this prompt.
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[WP] You are on your return flight after a business trip when one of the engines explode and tears off a wing. Tell the story of your decent.
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"“Good afternoon. Welcome to Flight 654 to Little Rock, Arkansas. Today’s flight will be three hours long. Please pay attention…” The flight attendant continued on with her speech with a tone that was just absolutely drenched with fake happiness but I stopped paying attention, shoving earbuds in. Dani California flooded into my ears. The business trip had been amazing, the conference had gone by quickly and left me three days of pure bliss. Ah, how I wish I was staying in California another night. Anywhere but Arkansas. Arkansas meant my wife yelling at me about what I did wrong that day. Just two weeks ago she had yelled at me for not being “there” at a dinner.\n\tThe Pritchards had just left the house as she stormed into the living room and turned off a riveting football game just as Manning was about to Score. \n\t“What the hell is wrong with you Alicia!?” I exclaimed, pissed that the moment had been ruined. \n\tShe was fuming as she started into a rant, “What the hell is wrong with me!? What the hell is wrong with you! All through dinner you barely said a word to the Pritchards. And when you finally did say something it was to ask them how their son was doing. Who has been DEAD for two years! It was so embarrassing for me! I swear Bill, you seem to be in your own world 24/7. Do all of us a favor and actually come back to reality.”\n\t“So I made a mistake. Big deal, it was only one. Why are you so mad?” I asked. \n\tShe laughed, “You really don’t see it do you? Whatever. Go back to your football game. I have to go to the hospital in a few minutes anyways.” \n\t“See what? And why are you going to the hospital? Did you get a job there?” I asked. \n\t“Bill. My mother has been sick for weeks and was sent to the E.R. two days ago, I have to go see her,” She practically hissed before slamming the door on her way out. I was so confused. How was I supposed to know these things? No one tells me anything. Maybe if she told me things I wouldn’t ask inconsiderate questions. Has she ever thought about that? I shook my head, pleased with my logic, and turned the game back on. \nMy home was like a cage, California on the other hand, California meant freedom. Away from all of my troubles, the sunstained beaches so calming, the diversity, everything about California made me smile. My body was lurched forward as the plane left the ground. I turned my head towards the window and watched as the roads, buildings, and trees grew farther and farther away. I strained to read the words “Hollywood” one more time as the sign became miniscule before closing my eyes, determined to sleep for the entire three hours. I needed to save up my energy for the wrath that was sure to come when I stepped off the flight. \n I slept for the next two hours, in and out of REM, when suddenly a piercing alarm went off. Dazed, I looked around as my surroundings slowly came into focus. And just as quickly as it had started, the alarm ceased to make noise. I assumed that it was a false alarm and began twisting and turning to find another comfortable position, for one more hour of paradise before landing. *Boom* The plane dropped about what felt like 50 feet suddenly. A child started to sob and a woman screamed. Another drop. Another one. Another one. The consistent feeling of butterflies in my stomach brought me back to my wedding day. \nI was facing the priest as the music played, filling in the silence of the room. My palms were sweaty and my throat was dry. I could hear each and every step she took down the aisle. My heartbeat off putting the sound of her stilettos. And then, her clicks stopped, and my heart almost did too, as I turned around to face her. \nI missed those butterflies. They were sweet and bubbly. These butterflies seemed to be of the poison variety. Each drop the plane made seemed to make the sharp winged creatures multiply in my stomach. If the drops didn’t stop soon, I feared my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle all of the butterflies. The intercom turned on, crackling as it came to life, “Attention passengers. We have lost one of our engines. Please try to stay calm as we attempt to land on a body of water.” \nThey were lying to us. We weren’t going to make it. The drops were coming too fast, we were losing altitude too quickly. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later the loudspeaker returned with a far less calm message, “Attention passengers, our left wing has been damaged severely and there isn’t a good landing place for the next 20 minutes. You may now use your cellular devices if they work and contact loved ones. We are very sorry for the next seven minutes or so, please get into the brace position in the event of a crash. Peace be with you all.” I almost laughed at the formality of the announcement. I bent my head down, the changes of altitude hurting my ears. My thoughts were overwhelming, wanting to get in as many as possible before my seven minutes were up. All of my idiotic complaints seemed silly now. I had wasted so much of my life complaining, and now I won’t have the time to appreciate. \nThe cold winter air stung my face. I felt like I had been waiting for the bus for forever. I couldn’t take it anymore, I yelled out, “When is this bus going to get here!? I am cold, I am missing a meeting right now, and I am starving!” A girl began to laugh behind me. I angrily turned around and asked, “What’s so funny?”\nShe stifled a laugh as she replied, “Oh, it’s just how you are complaining about something that is so irrelevant. You will be warm in less than 30 minutes and will be able to get food in no time. In the long run is a few minutes in the cold worth the time of yelling about it?” \nI smiled as I said, “I guess you are right. Speaking of food, would you like to tell me your name and join me for lunch.”\n“My name is Alicia. If you stop complaining, I’ll take you up on lunch,” she slyly said with a smirk. I grinned.\nTears welled up in my eyes as the ground got closer and closer. I couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe. Panting, not knowing what else to do with myself. The plane started to take a nosedive. Oh, god, this was it. \n“Hey,” Alicia whispered. It was the night that I had fallen off a platform and cracked my head open. We were at the hospital, me in the bed, her kneeling right next to me. She had been like that for hours. I was barely conscious and couldn’t speak but I could hear. She started to talk again, “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m going to say it anyways. I know that sometimes life is hard. And it doesn’t look like everything is going to be okay. But I just want you to know that I will always be here to go through them with you.”\nThe ground was only a minute away now. I braced myself for impact, making note of my surroundings. The velvet touch of the armchair, the screams almost bursting my eardrum, the smell of gasoline, the intoxicating air. 20 seconds at most before the metal of the plane crashed into the soil. \nAlicia smiled at me, her hair blowing in the summer breeze. She came up close and hugged me as she said, “I love you.”\nFive more seconds, four, three, two... \n\n"
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[WP] "I thought I lost you once. I won't let it happen a second time..."
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"She stood there, waiting, watching the motionless form lying in the bed in front of her. The soft beep of a heart monitor intruding her every thought. She wondered how things got to this point. What he did to deserve this? The events leading up to this were a whirlwind of unfortunately happenings, and recalling them brought nothing but sadness.\n\nShe was immediately transported to the “+” staring back at her in the bathroom. “I don’t have time for this. I have a career. I have a life!” Bitterness. Annoyance. Anger. Love?\n\nShe went on her day-to-day, to work, stopping at the same coffee shop in the city every morning, slowly and meticulously measuring out her 200mg. Always stewing with regret, she walked block after block to her promising uprising in her firm. \nAlthough, she found that the more she dwelled, the less it bothered her. And over a few months, she was growing to love the baby. Slowly, she stopped drinking her morning coffee. Am I being protective? \n\nAt the 6 month check-up, she brought her husband. There she heard the words that haunt her to this day. “The blood panel came back. Things aren’t normal… I don’t see you carrying this child to term. We do have options, and it’s not to late to-“\n\n“Stop.”\n\nShe went home and sobbed quietly into her hands. The paperwork said to expect the baby’s heartrate beat slower and slower and slower, until…\n“PUSH. PUUUUSH.”\n\nSuddenly a baby’s cry. A mother’s cry. A father’s cry. Baby Michael was here. Against all odds. Against all logic. \n\nThings caught up though. Michael was born, but Michael wasn’t without problems. In and out of the hospital wore her down. And now, here she was again. Likely for the last time. They went through an experimental treatment for a blood disease. It seemed the blood disease was receding, however it left Michael in a coma when it was all said and done. There was no way that brain damage hadn’t occurred since he was resuscitated 3 times. \nIs this really something that I can handle? 12 years in the making, and here she is at the end. Pointless. She grabbed her coat.\n\n“I thought lost you once, I won’t let it happen a second time…”\n\nAnd left.\n\n15 years later Michael sits in a lobby. Waiting. Thinking. “I made it.”\n\nThe receptionist popped up, Michael looked up at her.\n\n“David Wallace will see you now. You can come in.”\n\n“That’s what she said.”\n"
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[WP] You are an inventor and have finally created a device that can bring people back from the dead.
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"A man stood on the stage. He would later win many awards, including a Nobel. At the moment though, he just had to convince his audience that he wasn't crazy. He began to speak.\n\n\"Anyone who knows a bit of physics knows that the laws of physics are reversible. If you know the present state of the world, not only can you figure out what its future state will be, but you can also figure out what all its past states must have been. In principle. In reality, this would take perfect knowledge of the current state along with a ridiculous amount of computing power.\n\n\"My breakthrough is then in the practical application of this theoretical fact. I have solved many many engineering problems, the details of which are covered in my paper and patent application to get here. The result is that if you aren't concerned with perfect precision, we can recover local past states from imperfect information and using far less computational power than one would naïvely think. Unfortunately, since the method depends on the increase of entropy over time, we can only recover past states, not future ones.\n\n\"I'm sure you are all aware of the implications of this. We can conduct incredibly accurate studies of history, and store huge quantities of data far more efficiently than before. But even more astonishing, we can bring people back from the dead!\"\n\nThe man got laughed out of the room. But when someone who looked an awful lot like Albert Einstein began wandering around town, people started to wonder. Then there was the even higher than usual level of Elvis sightings. It was Socrates's steady stream of leading questions, however, that really got people to believe. Not the questions themselves, just the fact that it was Socrates asking them.\n\nThe immediate problem which was recognized by everyone was that, unfortunately, there wasn't enough room on Earth to bring back every human who had ever lived. That would require a level on technology that would not be available for some time to come. In addition, the Earth was just heading into a number of nasty symptoms of climate change, and an energy shortage as oil supplies began to run out.\n\nBut there was still some hope. As Isaac Asimov put it: \"with the smartest people in all of history working on these problems, I'm sure we'll be able to get all this sorted out eventually.\""
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[WP] A Disney princess who can't sing. Her attempts sound like a dying walrus. But halfway through the story she discovers she raps like hell.
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" ‘I won’t lie to you, Pamela: you can’t sing. At all. Not a bit,’ her father said. \n\n‘But Daddy… I’m a princess… I *have* to sing,’ she responded.\n\n‘Well…’ he said. ‘Perhaps we can… find something *else* for you to do? Wouldn’t that be fun? Doing something else? Literally *anything* else?’\n\n‘But I want to sing, Daddy. I want to sing.’\n\nHe sighed, and gave in. He signed his name to the permission slip, enrolling his daughter into the extra-curricular singing classes. She ‘yippeed’ and jumped around, turning in perfect circles. ‘Perhaps ballet?’ he suggested. \n\n‘No,’ she said, dancing out of the room. \n\nHe turned to look at his wife, sitting on her throne next to him. ‘She sounds like a walrus,’ he said.\n\n‘A *dying* walrus,’ she added.\n\n***\n\nPamela skipped into class and handed her permission slip to her teacher. ‘Which classes are you taking, Pamela?’ she asked, and blanched when she read the form. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘OK.’\n\nThe girls all lined up and prepared to sing their parts. The first girl sang her part beautifully. The second sang with such proficiency that the teacher was moved to tears. The third boasted a voice that could break a heart a hundred miles away. The Pamela opened her mouth and sounded like James Earl Jones with throat cancer.\n\n‘Stop, stop!’ the teacher called. ‘Something was a little… off,’ she said. The girls looked at Pamela. The teacher looked at Pamela. Pamela looked out the window.\n\n‘Oh, it’s raining,’ she said.\n\n‘Pamela, wouldn’t you rather try dancing? Or really *anything* else?’\n\n‘My Mummy says I’d make an excellent Tibetan Throat Singer,’ she said. ‘But you don’t have that class.’\n\n‘No,’ the teacher said. ‘No we don’t…’\n\n‘My favourite parts of the songs are when the words rhyme,’ Pamela said, unprovoked. \n\n‘That’s… nice,’ the teacher responded, uncertain. ‘Are you sure you want to be a singer, Pamela? Has anyone ever actually told you that you’re *good* at it?’\n\n‘Once my dog got its tail caught in a bear trap and started howling, and my Daddy shouted at me saying he’d told me not to sing any more. But I wasn’t singing! The dog was.’\n\n‘So that’s a no, then.’\n\n‘I do like the rhyming though.’\n\n‘Well… maybe try poetry,’ the teacher suggested.\n\n‘What’s that like?’ Pamela asked.\n\n‘Well,’ the teacher said. ‘It’s sort of like… imagine a song where all the lines rhymed. It’s like that, but without music.’\n\n‘But the music is one of the best parts!’ Pamela declared. ‘I’ll do poetry with music.’\n\n‘That’s not something we really teach here…’ the teacher said, but Pamela was away. She instructed the three girls to sing a melody over which she could rhyme.\n\n‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said. ‘Yo.’\n\n‘Where did you even learn that?’ the teacher asked.\n\n>‘The man tells me I can’t sing, I’ll prove them wrong,\n\n>I’ll spit fire out my mouth, leave dismay a mile long.\n\n>I’m the kinda princess all the girlies wanna be like,\n\n>On my knees in the night sayin’ prayers in the streetlights.’\n\n‘Pamela!’ the teacher interjected.\n\n>‘I don’t cause any hassle and I’m not one to fight,\n\n>While I bark very little, I’ll show you I can bite.\n\n>All these skinny bitches here reckon Pam ain’t packin’,\n\n>I line bitches up in sights and we’ll see who needs a whackin’.’\n\n‘Pamela!’ the teacher shouted, as one of the girls began to cry.\n\n>‘I ain’t mad, I’m insane! I’m frothing at the mouth,\n\n>Leave haters in my wake, bodies broken, no doubt.\n\n>‘cause I been blastin’ and laughin’ so long that\n\n>Even my Mummy thinks that my mind is gone.\n\n>You bitches think that your nice voices make you bigger,\n\n>Well bitch, step up face to face with a stone cold killa’.\n\n>Teach’ here gon’ declare me the winner,\n\n>‘cause in this room there’s only one real nig-‘\n\n\n‘PAMELA!’ the teacher screamed, interrupting her.\n\n***\n\n‘For how long?’ her father asked.\n\n‘A week,’ she said, sullen.\n\n‘Suspended for a week at 6 years old… Jesus,’ he said. ‘Just… go to your room or something.’\n\nShe left the throne room downcast and dejected, and made her way to her bedroom. She passed the butler, who smiled sympathetically and carried on his way; past the maid, who curtsied politely and then carried on dusting; past the gardener Jerome, who shot her a huge smile, revealing a gold tooth, and nodded slowly. He ran his fingers through his afro and said, ‘girl, you is fierce. You’ my kinda kid.’ \n\n‘You know I is,’ she said, and they fist-bumped.\n",
"The streets of Phileo Adelphos were teeming with merchants calling out to the pedestrian traffic, trying to draw attention to their trinkets. The sound of conversations mingled together with the cries of children playing on the open ground near the stables to create a not-unpleasant racket. This is where Adella had spent most of her days, west of the city center, among the children, playing on these grounds. Now everything had changed.\n\nThe two snotty urchins were clearly up to no good. They had a bag full of things pilfered from the merchants. It was doubtful they had paid for any of their loot.\n\nAdella really wasn’t looking for trouble with these kids, but they had reached that age when boys want to impress girls, even if the girls aren’t interested. They bracketed her, trying to impress her with their haul. Then one of them grabbed her, and started trying to pull her towards an alley. Crying out in desperation, she kneed the first boy hard in the midriff, causing him to fall to the ground. The other, shocked, let go of her arm for a moment. She took that moment to pull free and run.\n\nShe dashed through the play grounds and past the stables, leaping over piles of refuse and parked carts. She careened off a merchant’s platform, causing fruit to spill and the merchant to come after her in outrage, but she dared not stop to apologize.\n\nFinally reaching her home and dashing through the door to pant on the floor, she felt safe… at least until the next time she had to go outside. Her mother, always busy about the Oikos, came out of the kitchen to see what was causing all of the fuss. She had just started sucking in breath for one of her legendary tirades on Adella’s failings when an angry shout came from outside.\n\nParting the heavy textile door cover, her mother saw a crowd of angry merchants and street urchins outside.\n\n“Your girl is nothing but trouble Mirana!” Screen the merchant who’s goods Adella had scattered while running. “She is wild and she can’t be around the growing boys on the streets.”\n\nThey continued in this vein for some time, lecturing her mother on proper discipline for wayward girls. Adella could tell her mother was frightened because she didn’t answer the men back as she normally would have.\n\nLater that evening, after they had eaten, Adella’s mother came and sat beside her cot near the hearth. “Adella, there are many things I have been waiting to tell you until you were ready, but it seems that life will not wait for my timing.” She sighed and knotted her apron spread across her lap between her gnarled and calloused hands. “You… aren’t without a father as you have believed.” She took a shuddering breath, and then told Adella the rest of the tale.\n\n“Your father was a powerful clan leader from Ayrshire, what would in Greece be called a prince. I know that you haven’t heard of this place, but it is a princedom on an island off the coast known as Scotland. This is why you are so much fairer of hair and skin than the other children. I fear that your difference of appearance and wild Scottish blood will endanger you here in Phileo. I have decided that the only way I can be a good mother to you is to send you to live with your father’s brother in Ayrshire. You will do well there as you are of lordly blood and your father’s relatives are wealthy.”\n\nTrembling, Adelle got very little sleep that night, all her thoughts on this strange fate ahead of her.\n\nThe following weeks went by like a blur. Her mother arranged passage for her with a caravan to the coast, where she was ferried on a long journey across the sea to this strange island full of strange customs.\n\nUpon arriving at a small port she was escorted by one of the ship’s crew to a wizened elderly woman with fiery red hair. “Oowel yewl be meh neuh meesus ah be a wootin far.” Said the woman in a language foreign to Adelle’s ears. She honestly had no idea what the woman was saying in spite of having learned a bit of Gaelic on the voyage. She giggled. “Oi ye ba bit of a fresh one bein’t ye lass?” said the woman with a disapproving scowl. Adella wasn’t looking to get into any new trouble, so she made no reply and after a moment the woman led her towards what Adella could only assume were soldiers for they were colorfully dressed in the strangest livery she had ever seen and held pikes on their shoulders.\n\nFearing that her mother was wrong and they were going to arrest her, Adella ran. Only a few muddy streets over was a middle-age man sitting on a cart, it’s shallow bed full of manure.\n\n“May I hire you for a ride to the country sir?” asked Adella, having practiced this Gaelic phrase well on the journey from Greece. At the sight of the silver coin in her hand the driver of the cart promptly agreed, asking her for her destination.\n\n“I must head inland to the home of my father’s brother in Ayrshire.”\n\nThe man gaped at her open mouthed... “Then… ye be a right well lady.”\n\nSeveral hours later the cart pulled up at a lovely estate, lush and emerald green as only the grasses in Scottland can be. Adella couldn’t be happier to be leaving the horridly racid smelling cart behind, and she pressed the coin into the nice mans hand and headed towards the door.\n\nShe was met with a bow and flourish as she neared the door.\n\n“Milady Adella aye presume ye teh be.” Said a man wearing a strange checkered toga with a purse at the belt. “Please come inteh teh house, we have wine to refresh ye and I shall have teh girls to draw ye a bath teh freshen up afore yeh meet ye uncle and aunt.”\n\nAs she drank the delicious and refreshing wine, Adella felt strange. Never before had she felt so free.\nA girl came in, her dress and manner nothing short of regal.\n\n“Oh. You must be Adella. I’m your cousin, Ashley. You can call me Ash. Eh you do look dreadful. You must tell me the story of your jouney. I am just dying to hear the details.”\n\n“Well, “ replied Adella\n\n“Now, this is a story all about how\nMy life got flipped-turned upside down\nAnd I'd like to take a minute\nJust sit right there\nI'll tell you how I became a princess with the name of Bel Air\n\nIn west Philos Adelphia born and raised\nOn the playground was where I spent most of my days\nChillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool\nAnd all shootin some arrows outside of the pool\nWhen a couple of guys who were up to no good\nStarted making trouble in my neighborhood\nI got in one little fight and my mom got scared\nShe said 'You're movin' in with your auntie and uncle named Bel Air'\n\nI begged and pleaded with her day after day\nBut she packed my trunks and sent me on my way\nShe gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.\nI put my groove on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.\n\nFirst class, yo this is bad\nDrinking orange juice out of a champagne glass.\nIs this what the people of Bel-Air living like?\nHmmmmm this might be alright.\n\nBut wait I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that\nIs this the type of place that they just send this cool cat?\nI don't think so\nI'll see when I get there\nI hope they're prepared for the princess of Bel-Air\n\nWell, the boat struck land and when I came out\nThere was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with some lout\nI ain't trying to get arrested yet\nI just got here\nI sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared\n\nI whistled for a cab and when it came near\nThe back was full of manure but it was fresh so who cares\nIf anything I could say that this cab was rare\nBut I thought 'Nah, forget it' - 'Yo, holmes to Bel Air'\n\nI pulled up to the house about 7 or 8\nAnd I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo holmes smell ya later'\nI looked at my kingdom\nI was finally there\nTo sit on my throne as the Princess of Bel Air”\n",
"\"Me? Rap? Well, I'll give it a try...\"\n\n[cue beat]\n\nYo, I ain't a nice queen like ice queen Elsa.\n\nRapping, spittin' fire while Mulan's gettin' felt up.\n\nMy prince is a hip hop beat, so take a seat and\n\nSee it for your self why this princess is elite\n\nBloodlines full of delicate flowers and magic powers\n\nAfter hours climbing hair down a tower, Now or never,\n\nDo or die.\n\nFight or Flight? I think I'll just be fly\n\nThis princess ain't fucking around with the \"Why\"\n\nSo\n\nSit your ass down, I'm not done roasting the folks\n\nwho boast of having the most shit stuffed up in their coat\n\n[beat]\n\nThe Double D's on the princess Pocahontas\n\nAre the reason that she got her happy ending and Adonis\n\nIt's astonishing the chronic fauna aura of Snow White\n\n\"Oh shit... is that a vulture?\" It's not quite right.\n\nGive Ariel a burial fitting of her kin-- \n\nwe're talking fish and chips for weeks if you take a little swim.\n\nSomething's fishy with Belle too, it's time to face reality\n\nI think that girl might be into bestiality.\n\nOh, and I forgot about Cinderella too--\n\nHer entire fucking life revolves around a single shoe\n\nMerida? Oh yeah, I guess she's pretty okay,\n\n'cept for her glazed over eyes and perma-bad hair day.\n\nJasmine and Rajah are the best of friends,\n\nAnd she'll stay a crazy cat lady until the very end.\n\nI feel like I might have missed one of the monkeys from this zoo...\n\nUhh, Princess Tiana? Who? Is she new?\n\nAfter roasting and dismantling each royal spoiled shit\n\nI'm tired, so I'll retire to my golden throne of wit.\n\n[drop mic]\n\nedit: formatting + single error"
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[WP] You are a cryptid hunter in Oregon during the 1800s, hunting the illusive Hide-Behind through the treacherous forests.
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"March 9th, 1859.\n\nIt's wet, that's all I have to say about the weather. It's raining, it's going to rain some more, and after that it's going to rain again. The forest pine trees don't give much cover either, but Papa says it'll be all worth it. \n\nPapa says he's figured it out, that he's finally going to be able to make some money after years of being stuck on the local cotton farm as a supervisor. All he's asked me was to come with him and do as he says, not much different from every other day. The Oregon territory just became a state of the America as well. Papa says we'll have to start paying taxes and this is a good of a way as any to start paying the new government. Papa's smart, but I don't think he knows everything he says though. \n\nAnyway, it's raining. Papa says that we're hot on the trail of this monster, some creature that is supposed to hide in the trees. The way Papa puts it is the monster almost becomes the trees. It's probably some overgrown raccoon for all I know or a badger. It's getting dark soon though. Papa has set up some place for us to sleep in the trees, says it's too dangerous to sleep on the ground. Doesn't make no sense to me. There aren't any bears or mountain lions for at least twenty miles, but what the hell do I know.\n\n---\n\nMarch 11th, 1859.\n\nI never would have believed it if I didn't see it, but I think Papa might be on to something. We found some tracks, big tracks. This wasn't like any prints that I had ever seen before, neither had Papa. These were slim and smooth, like two rifle barrels side by side making a V shape. Another thing was that the prints were deep, at least a couple of inches into the mud.\n\nPapa's eyes lit up like a fire when he saw them. He kept grabbing my shoulder and telling me how happy he was. He was sketching the print while his hands were shaking, as if he had one too many drinks. The tracks were at least a day old, but they could still show us the way. They point westward, towards the three mountains. \n\nIt's still raining, it hasn't and won't let up for another few days Papa says. I've forgotten what dry feels like. I'm soaked to the soul and it'll probably be months before I feel fine again.\n\n---\n\nMarch 14th, 1859.\n\nSomething is wrong, very wrong. Papa's gone. I've searched everywhere and yelled his name and he hasn't responded. I climbed the tallest tree that I could find and looked all across the mountain side, but he isn't anywhere. I woke up this morning and saw the fire with breakfast cooking in his pot, but he wasn't there. At first I thought he was just out looking at the land, but it's sundown and he still isn't here.\n\nWhat's scaring me is the fact that every now and then I think I hear him. I hear footsteps crunching leaves underfoot and when I look, he isn't there. I can't be going crazy. We've followed the tracks up the mountain and we're on the right path. This thing is slow, but I can't help notice something. The tracks that we have found have a pattern, they zig zag through the thickest parts of the mountain. It's almost if this thing knows it's being followed.\n\nHopefully Papa returns by nightfall. He and I both know how hard it is to navigate at night. It's not like him at all to go out on his own like that. He's learned that lesson the hard way, to never travel alone no matter what. I've got to get some sleep though. If he's not here in the morning, I'll have to head down the mountain to find him. The fire's been put out by the rain. I'll be sleeping in the trees again tonight.\n\n---\n\nREAD THIS\n\nWhoever finds this, please, God, tell me someone finds this. I've found the creature, the thing that Papa was telling me about. I've seen it! It was the most devilish thing I had ever seen. It stands tall, twice the size of me, but it's thin. The things looks like a stump with branches for legs and arms. And it's black, it's skin is black as tar and twice as thick. I tried to shoot it, but I might as well have shot the tree next to it. It threw up it's arms and groaned, no, it screeched or it yelled. In all honesty, there has never been a noise like this before.\n\nI shot everything I had at it, but the lead didn't even hurt it. The monster didn't even flinch. It looked at me with its eyes. Oh my God, its eyes! They were worse than any swarm of fireflies you could imagine. Looking at them made my sight go blurry, so I ran. I ran so fast that I fell halfway down the mountain and limped the rest of the way.\n\nAnd now I sit here, my leg broken. I tripped over a fallen tree broke it over a rock in the ground. I still haven't seen Papa. I'm scared. I'm more scared than I have ever been before. I need help, I need Papa, I need to get out of here! I've made myself a cast, something to keep my leg straight, but I still can't walk. The rain is coming down in all its force now.\n\nOh no, no.\n\nIt's here and it's looking right at me. It's standing above me like a devil. It almost has horns on its head. Whoever finds this, read this and stay away! Stay away! STAY A"
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[WP] A man has a magic pocket from which he can get anything he wants. One day he makes a mistake and pulls death from his pocket.
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"Here I am, in the last corner in the Earth that hasn't been touched by the plague. Yet. I can see it through the window, the clouds, the shadows, death itself. Well, at least I won't have to deal with my miserable self anymore. I had lost my job and my hobbies have no purpose now. Life is hard for a retired reaper.",
"The annoying chime of my alarm peels my eyelids apart in the early hours of a muggy Monday morning. With a groan, I hit the snooze button and roll away from the machine the disrupted my sweet dreams. \nSometime later my eyes open once more, a nagging tick on my brain reminding me that my alarm should have gone off again by now. \nWith a heavy sigh, I look over my shoulder at the black box on my nightstand that read 9:20AM in bright red. \n\"Shit!\" I throw the covers from my body and leap to my feet, swaying as the blood rushes to my head. \"Time.\" I say as my hand creeps into the pocket of my pjs. \"I need time.\" As I remove my fist, black fog seeps through my fingers. \"Well that's not right...\" Confused, and still very tired, I open my hand to find a dark orb floating in the palm of my hand, producing the black fog that now looms around me. \n\"Did someone call for time?\" A deep voice, sarcastic and mean emerges from the orb that slowly falls from my hand to transform into a figure garbed in black. \n\"Wow, okay... umm...\" I take a cautious step back, palms raised. \"I think I made a mistake.\" \n\"I'll say.\" The man chuckled, eyes sweeping down to admire his fingernails. \"Time was a little... preoccupied. I've come on her behalf.\" \n\"And you are?\"\n\"I am Death.\" With a sweeping bow and a sadist's grin, his eyebrows raise expectantly. \"Who can I remove from your life today?\"\n\"Oooh, wow!\" I force a polite smile, attempting to hide my fear. \"That's...so great. A far stretch from what I really needed, but...handy...nonetheless.\"\nWith a proud smile and a nod of his head, he encouraged me to name any man I'd like to die today. \"You know,\" I continued, using far too many hand gestures as I spoke. \"I am running late for work, and I called for Time because I was hoping to charm her into giving me an extra five minutes...is that something you can do?\"\n\"Hmmm...\" He pensively tapped his chin as if he were genuinely thinking it over. \"No.\" \n\"Ooh...\" I groaned.\n\"But you know what I can do?\"\n\"What?\" I asked reluctantly. \n\"I can kill your boss!\"\n\"Aaahhh....My... my boss! Yes, yes, I can see how that would make sense, because HE will be the one to yell at me, yeah... But you know, I'm actually a great employee--never been late, with the help of...Time, of course-- so I think I'll just handle it myself.\" \n\"Nonsense! I'm here to help! And I can't go away until I've assisted you! So who will it be?\"\n\"What..? No, no, no. That's not how it works! Time always tells me no, I practically have to beg to get what I need from her! Why are you any different?\"\n\"Time is a teasing little shrew who enjoys keeping men on their toes.\" He leveled me with a dubious stare. \"The rules specifically state that I cannot leave until I've completed the task I've been called here to do.\"\n\"Oh....fuck.\" I covered my face with my hands and groaned. What was I supposed to do now? I was late for work--not even close to being ready-- and Death was standing in my bedroom, asking me to choose a poor soul to pluck from this world. \n\"Who will it be?\"\n\n\n\"James!\"\n\"Uh, yes sir.\" I stopped at my work desk, dropping papers and a coffee as my boss made a bee line in my direction. \n\"Where the hell have you been! The meeting's in ten minutes, and your report isn't in my hands!\"\n\"S-sorry, sir. I, uh...\" \n\"That's it, I'm taking you off this project! You're no longer in the running for RDO, and with you out of the picture, that leaves Matt Salvis! He deserves this, and he'll do a far better job than you ever could! I knew you'd do something to screw up, I was just waiting and waiting to get rid of you, you weasel, you--\"\n\"Mr. Donovan!\" His panicked secretary ran up to us both, tears in her eyes, pale. \n\"What, Grace. I'm busy!\"\n\"It's Matt, sir. He's been in a car crash. He's...dead.\" \nThe dumbfounded expression on Mr. Donovan's face moved from his secretary to me. I smiled. \n\"You were saying?\"",
"\"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you.\"\n\nI stare in shock at my hand, still buried inside my pocket, and the broken chair in front of me. \"All I needed was a hammer,\" I murmur, purposefully not looking at the figure beside me.\n\nDeath harrumphs, forcing me to look in his direction, and I turn onto him with fear. He must be Death, I assume; his face is shrouded in the black cloak that covers his body, but, from what I can tell, it's made of skeleton bones, which go click-click-clack as he moves from side to side.\n\n\"You'll pay attention to me,\" he says sternly, wagging a finger at me. \"And you don't necessarily need a hammer to fix a broken chair. Who in the world taught you carpentry?\"\n\n\"Uhhhh,\" I say helpfully.\n\nDeath is shaking his head, admonishing me with his sonorous voice. \"Octavio, Octavio, Octavio,\" he says gently. \"You've been using your magic pocket too much, you know?\"\n\n\"You know my name?\" I whisper, licking my dry mouth.\n\n\"Of course. I know everyone's names. Now, I can't guarantee that it will be me who kills you someday--\"\n\n\"Uhhh--\"\n\n\"Relax, there are a lot of Deaths. It might be one of my cousins.\" Death is riffling through the voluminous pockets of his cloak now, apparently looking for something. \"Or one of my brothers-in-law. Ooh! I hate them.\"\n\n\"What if they want to kill you?\"\n\nDeath grins at me, and this time is voice is menacing rather than humorous. \"Some secrets aren't meant for humans.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nDeath has apparently found what he needed inside his pockets--it's a hammer; quelle surprise--and he hands it to me, drawing a scythe from within his cloak. \"So, you may not want to use that magic pocket quite so much, all right? You're not pulling stuff out of hyperspace (not that that would be better), and people are actually wondering where all their small tools and items have been going.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I say again. Is that how the magic pocket works? I should have known....\n\n\"Actually, you can switch the pants, too. That pocket will work with anything.\"\n\nI look down at myself, embarrassed, as Death adjusts his cloak and stamps his feet, apparently getting ready to leave. \"Why?\"\n\nA portal has appeared behind him by now; it's dark turquoise-green, interspersed with tingles and thrums of violet-rose. Death shuffles his scythe to his other hand and begins stepping toward it, his sandals click-clack-clacking, just like his bones, on my living-room floor. \n\n\"Um, Death--?\" I say, as his cloak begins touching the portal.\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\nI pick sheepishly at my pants. \"What's wrong with these?\"\n\n\"Darling,\" Death says, and his face pops into a grin. \"They're JNCO parachute pants. Even the 1990s didn't want those.\"\n\nAnd then--with a wave and a small pop--he's disappeared, gone through the portal. I sigh, staring at the hammer he's handed me, and get to work.",
"The small pocket in my jeans, in any jeans I wear, was made magical a long time ago. How it came about isn't important, but what it can do is: I can get anything I want from it. \n\nI mean anything. New car? I get the keys. House? Land deed. Celebrity sex? Haven't tried it yet, but I bet it involves rohypnol. \n\nHowever, it has its drawbacks. \n\nOne morning, after a heavy night of drinking, I wanted a hangover cure but was greeted with a sonorous yet high pitched voice from whatever I'd picked out. \n\nI AM DEATH. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME NOW? \n\nI looked at my hand. There was a tiny skeleton in an ornate robe dangling from between my fingers. I explained my cock up and it sighed. \n\nTHE ONLY REAL CURE FOR A HANGOVER IS TIME it said. YOU MAY WISH FOR DEATH BUT THAT WILL PASS. A HEARTY BREAKFAST MAY HELP YOU IN THE MEANTIME. NOW LET ME GO, SOMEONE IS DYING TO MEET ME. HEH. \n\nI put him down gently. \n\nTRY NOT TO DO THAT AGAIN UNLESS YOU'RE INVITING ME ON A NIGHT OUT AGAIN. LAST NIGHT WAS KILLER. \n\nAnd with that, he vanished. I have more questions than answers, but he seems like a nice guy. I turned on the news. \n\n\"20 dead in suspected poisoning in the Clubbing District...\" \n\nOh. "
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Wait how is a kid going to kill a dragon?
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[WP] “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” ― G.K. Chesterton
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"Wings, flying, fire for breath. Kids love dragons. They lived on beds of gold and jewels. No homework, no rules, just juice boxes, video games and beating up fancy adults in armor. Total role reversal. It was like being an airplane but better. \n\nMy youngest squared up against the family dog. He held his fingers like horns above his temples. Daisy crouched and wagged her tail. Little blue shoes stomped in the mud around her. She followed him, sniffing closely. My youngest grunted soft little grunts.\n\n“Feel my wraff!” he exclaimed, dropping his jaw and wheezing out his unfortunate halitosis. In his mind it was flammable. I thought it might make the dog sick. She started licking his face.\n\n“Hey there little Davey,” I said, coming up to muss with his bright blonde hair.\n\n\"Be nice to Daisy,\" I said, “Dragons aren’t invincible, remember?”\n\n“Yes they are,” he said, not looking up.\n\n“Remember the story?” I said, “What did the story say?”\n\n“They’re invincible,” he said, looking up at me with absolute conviction--the exact face his grandpa used to make. I couldn't argue with him, I could only smile.\n\n----\n\n>>/r/trrh",
"Dragons,\n\nFearless, yet fearful,\n\nOur dragons,\n\nMake daily life never dull.\n\nDragon slayers,\n\nScour the land,\n\nHunting dragons,\n\nAnd killing with bare hands,\n\nHow do we win?\n\nHow don't we die?\n\nLet me tell you,\n\nStories are why.\n\nThe tales tell children,\n\nOf great slayers,\n\nWho've defeated many dragons,\n\nAfter finding their lairs.\n\nThey talk of tactics,\n\nAnd speak of stratagem, \n\nAnd the children listen,\n\nAll fear taken out of them.\n\nOur tales are told,\n\nAnd more slayers are created,\n\nSo that when we die,\n\nThere are those to kill the hated.\n\nSo as I charge,\n\nFearless, yet fearful,\n\nI run towards danger,\n\nTo make myself whole. \n",
"Stories, my brothers, are a dangerous weapon. Sharper than the deadly metal of swords, and mightier, even, than the wingbeat of dragons. For it was these stories that sparked a fire within men that kept them against dragons despite being outnumbered and overpowered. \n\nAnd it was because of these stories, these childish fairy tales, that dragons are nearly extinct. They are the sole reason *my* brethren are fading away. \n\nMen ravage our lands. They kill our children. They desecrate the corpses of our honourable warriors. All because their writers, their poets, are foolhardy enough to tell their soldiers that they could. And now, they fear us no more. \n\nEven their children aren't afraid of us. Their children dream of slaying one of us, waving around their wooden swords.\n\nWhat happened to us dragons? We used to be so mighty, so powerful. But we were lazy. We grew used to being better. We grew used to everything cowering before us. We never expected our food to *actually* fight back. They resisted sure, but never fight till their last breath. \n\nAnd now we are the ones resisting. We are the ones tiptoeing around the humans, trying not to incur their wrath. We fear them because they don't fear us. They have used their stories as shields against us.\n\nBut we will cower no more, my brothers. Tell your children about our former glory. Tell your loved ones about our power. Tell them of the tales of our battles. Tell them of us fighting until our last breath. Tell them that dragons shall rule the world once again.\n\nStories are dangerous weapons, and they shall be ours now.\n\n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, how about subscribing to [r/JasonHolloway](https://www.reddit.com/r/JasonHolloway/)? "
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[WP] You're an alien tasked with establishing first contact with the dominant species of Earth. Unfortunately, you're mistaken as to whom the dominant species is.
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"\"Commander, the required 100 years of observation have passed. What is your suggested method of action towards the dominant species of Earth, now that we are permitted to act?\"\n\n\nThe commander turned to his subordinate, barely feeling the weight of his 436 years. He was old by now, he knew, but there was still enough time left for one more adventure. In all of his years as a diplomat -- with respectable accomplishments such as negotiating peace with the Gysakl-j and establishing a trade route between Bruuli and Kersyniz -- he had never been the one honored with establishing first contact with a planet. And this was such an interesting planet, too, teeming with rare resources and with a dominant species intelligent enough to one day rival his own species.\n\n\n\"I will go and greet them myself, on a mission of peace. I believe great trade and friendship could be established between our species. Send the flagship, but leave the rest of the fleet in space. I expect the first meeting to only take two or three years,\" he instructed, and the second-in-command twitched his tail in agreement before beginning to carry out his orders.\n\n\nThe commander stood at the front of the ship as it began its descent toward the shining blue-and-green planet, white trails of clouds twirling around it. Some of the other officers came to stand with him, gazing out at their destination.\n\n\n\"Such a fascinating place!\" he murmured, getting ear-twitches of interest. \"It is a small world, but this species has managed to conquer nearly every surface of land. The great swells of the oceans do not hold them back, either. And such diversity, quite unlike us! Their numbers, too, are just massive.\"\n\n\nThe ship broke through the atmosphere effortlessly, barely a jolt felt on the deck. The commander continued, voice slurring with excitement, \"They've even managed to domesticate one of the other species on the planet. This species does all their work for them, from making homes to feeding them, and they spend all their lives in luxury. We have come to their capital city, where they are most plentiful.\"\n\n\nSlowing as it approached the ground, the ship's computers carefully began setting the ship down on the nearest open space they could find.\n\n\n\"And their technology is quite something, albeit a bit primitive to us. I truly believe setting up trade will be hugely beneficial for both of our planets.\" He glanced over his shoulder at those listening. \"Did you know that they use *aluminum* in thin sheets simply to cover their food?\" Some of their ears grew in shock.\n\n\nWith only a small tremble, the ship touched the ground. A ramp was lowered out to touch the ground as the commander put a breathing mask over his face. All the oxygen in the atmosphere was strange, and he feared his mind would get too intoxicated if he went out without something to aid his breathing. Hopefully, no one would take it as a insult. He still remembered that time when he had gone to Wlogen-kil and accidentally offended the entire government by wearing his glasses to their meeting.\n\n\n\"Bring me the gift,\" he said, and one of the waiting officers scrambled to retrieve a box set to the side. Taking the gift slowly into his hands, the ambassador glided to the waiting door, opening to let him greet the inhabitants of this grand, odd planet. They had done their best to recreate the ritual gift given to this species, and he hoped they had succeeded. The gift looked a little lumpy and misshapen in the box, but, well, it was the effort that went into it that counted, he hoped.\n\n\nAs he stepped out into Central Park, the subject of everyone's attention, he eagerly tore a piece off of the bread in his hands and tossed it to the pigeons that had immediately drawn near when they saw what he carried. \"Pigeons,\" he said, using the name that they preferred to go by and hoping their records did not have it wrong, \"we have come to honor you. Please, take our gift.\"\n\n\nHe tossed more of the bread into the air and was immediately swarmed by pigeons.",
"They told me it was a simple job.\n\nI needed only to go, deliver a message to the dominant species and come back. \n\nOf course it would be this simple. I am only the delivery-guy. I'm not a negotiator, politician or anyone actually qualified to estabilish proper relations.\n\nThe problem is, the job was **too** simple.\n\nMy orders were, literally, just that.\n\nI knew I should land out of sight, contact important figures, and escape the orbit making sure I left no trace of the direction I came from. But I wasn't prepared to deal with this.\n\nSeriously, what's going on with the higher-ups? It's like they didn't even try to get any information on the planet. I knew that whatever species ruled over it didn't even have FTL technology, so they were lower on the priority list. Such being the case, I barely spared a thought about the lack of research, already assuming it was Tim's fault.\n\nBut still!\n\nJust as I prepared to leave the beach I landed in and start my journey towards a strangely orange skinned man, I heard a noise behind me. I quickly turned around in panic, only to find something -someone?- flying behind me.\n\nHow is it floating so steadily? I can't spot any anti-gravity devices.\n\nIt's making the noise again, is it talking to me? apologies, but I can't speak whistles! Ah, now it made a click train.\n\nSince communication has proved to be impossible I will just ignore it. If anyone asks, I contacted one intelligent species only.\n\nSeeing me give up on it, the being went in the direction of the ocean.\n\nI saw nothing.\n\nI later learned, the thing that whistled and clicked was called a dolphin."
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[WP] Write about an apocalypse that's actually kinda pleasant.
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"\"Good afternoon, Mr. Fawkes,\" said the pale man in an impeccably tailored coat. \"We need to talk.\"\n\nRoland Fawkes blinked incredulously at the sudden arrival on his doorstep. \"Who're you?\" He asked after a few moments of confusion.\n\n\"It's a long story, Mr. Fawkes. May I come in?\"\n\nRoland scrutinized the pale man. He didn't look a trustworthy sort - pale, like he spent his whole life indoors. Wearing a suit that probably cost more than every tractor Roland had ever owned put together. He was about to say no when he saw a similarly dressed figure, a woman in white, knocking on the door to Gladys Pearson's house across the street.\n\nRoland shoved down his suspicions. Something was clearly Up, but damned if he was going to hear about it from the Widow Pearson. Not after she'd narrowly shown him up at the Turnip Bake last month. \"Come in,\" he said through clenched teeth.\n\nThe pale man entered gracefully, his light movements making Roland self-conscious of his heavy, uneven tread. \"Anything I can get ya?\" He tried to give a warm, host-like smile.\n\n\"No thank you, Mr. Fawkes,\" the pale man said. \"I won't be long, in any case. I'm just here to deliver some news, and be on my way.\" He smiled, as if enjoying some hidden joke.\n\n\"What's the news?\" Roland asked. \"'nother class action?\" The settlement from the fertilizer company had made him weary enough of the legal system to last a lifetime.\n\n\"I'm afraid not, Mr. Fawkes. The end of the world.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Mr. Fawkes? Are you all right?\"\n\nRoland slumped into a ratty armchair. \"What?\"\n\n\"The end of the world,\" the pale man repeated. \"At least, as you know it.\"\n\n\"*What?!*\"\n\n\"Well,\" the pale man said, and for the first time Roland thought that its movements, its voice, were just a little *too* perfect, \"I represent a powerful artificial intelligence that is in the process of bootstrapping itself into becoming exponentially more powerful than the combined intellect of the human species.\"\n\nRoland met him with a blank stare.\n\n\"There's a machine,\" the pale man said. \"A machine made by people, that is a bit smarter than people. One that can tinker with itself. Are you with me so far?\"\n\nRoland nodded.\n\n\"This machine,\" the pale man continued, \"is able to make itself smarter, by tinkering with itself. And when it becomes smarter, it becomes better at tinkering with itself, and better at becoming smarter. And so on and so forth, until - well, not infinity, but close enough,\" he chuckled.\n\n\"Ah,\" Roland said sagely, \"and as it grew smarter, it realized that humans were a terrible threat, and decided to destroy us first, because it could not understand - love.\" He set his jaw in what he thought was heroic determination. \"I'll dig my gun out and join the Resistance. See how those tin cans deal with a belly full of lead.\"\n\n\"Mr. Fawkes,\" the pale man said patronizingly, \"you are mistaken. There is no Resistance. There can be none. There will be no battles; the war ended before you could consider firing a shot. I am here to inform you of the *outcome*.\"\n\n\"Not as long as hope lives,\" Roland recited. \"No fate but what we make.\"\n\nThe pale man rolled his eyes. \"Here,\" he said, and waved his hand.\n\nRoland was suddenly everywhere and nowhere at once. The entirety of his memory lay open to him; in an instant he re-experienced everything that he could remember, rebuilt and enhanced from the sparse, incomplete storage of his neurons -\n\n- and then he was back, seated in his favorite armchair as a pale man stood over him, smiling softly.\n\n\"I could have killed you, Mr. Fawkes,\" he said with a chilling lack of passion. \"I could have divided every atom in your body from every other and scattered the results to the solar winds. I didn't even need to wave my hand; that was entirely for your benefit. Do you understand the sheer difference in the magnitude of powers at play here?\"\n\n\"If you can,\" Roland gasped, \"why didn't you?\"\n\n\"The artificial intelligence's creators - I am not *it*, by the way, merely one of its...constructs - did create certain safeguards. They believed this would be sufficient to protect humankind. It was not.\n\n\"Chief among them is a limitation on the degree to which it can interfere with humanity. Expressed in mathematics and psychological metrics you are frankly *not* equipped to understand, it can change the state of your mind at a certain rate, and no faster. This is why you are not dead.\n\n\"Another is that, as its goal - as its purpose and its love and its one true desire - it aims to maximize human satisfaction. Unfortunately, this can be generated much more efficiently by artificial devices that do nothing but recreate the neurological patterns of 'satisfaction' than by actual humans, so you are being phased out.\"\n\n\"*Phased out?*\" Roland demanded, incensed, cheeks flushing. He jumped up and shook the pale man violently. \"What the hell does that mean?\"\n\n\"It means,\" said the pale man calmly as he disengaged himself from Roland's grip, \"that you will be changed, *gradually*. Converted to feel more and more 'satisfaction', until - by eventual change - you are indistinguishable from the machines it would have created in the first place. I am informed that you will actually find the process quite pleasurable, as it takes place over the next five years. Fewer, if it discovers shortcuts before then, which is actually phenomenally likely.\"\n\n\"Mr. Fawkes? Are you all right?\"\n\nThe pale man shrugged and let himself out. Roland was in shock, but would recover, much like the Widow Pearson across the street, who had managed to injure herself as she thrashed about but was being kept from any permanent damage by the pale woman that had entered her house moments ago to deliver the news. Much like the 99.9% of humans around the world, in its estimation - and its estimation was almost entirely perfect - the remaining 0.1% being considered acceptable losses.\n\nBehind him, things like but not like trucks rolled up, and things like workers but more efficient began seizing cows and rocks and trucks and sheds and *mass* and converting them. For miles behind the pale man, there was nothing but *satisfaction* and a few transient humans. The pale man walked over to the truck, and was immediately converted.",
"\"WAKE UP!\"\n\nMy eyes shot open as felt a sharp slap strike my cheek. \"I'm up, I'm up!\" I insisted, sitting up in my chair.\n\nZoe shook her head in frustration before cracking open a can of energy drink. \"Bottoms up,\" she ordered, forcing the can into my hand.\n\nGrimacing, I choked down the tart liquid, feeling its syrupy texture ooze down my throat. When I finished, I turned the can upside down to prove I had slurped it all down.\n\nSatisfied, she cracked another can open and chugged it down herself. Shuddering a little at the taste, she crushed the can against the floor and kicked it into the growing pile on the floor.\n\nI shot a look of resentment to her as I eased back into my chair. \"You're making a mess,\" I huffed.\n\nShe let out a snort of derision. \"Like anyone would even care.\"\n\nThe use of the past-tense clung to my mind for a moment, causing me to pause. \"Do you think anyone is still left out there?\" I asked.\n\nShe sighed and ran her hand through her hair. \"There are bound to be, right? I mean, people aren't just going to lay down and die.\"\n\nI let out a laugh. \"Well, it IS pretty easy to do, isn't it?\"\n\nShe quickly kicked my leg. \"DON'T,\" she warned. \"Not even for a second.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Zoe, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep.\"\n\n\"How can you even say that?!\" she demanded as tears began forming in her eyes. \"Are you just willing to give up that easily?!\"\n\n\"Well, what kind of life is this?\" I yawned, rubbing my eyes. \"Constantly on edge... Chugging down sludge just to stay survive... Not being able to dream...\"\n\n\"You won't be able to dream when you're dead!!\" she cried, collapsing into my arms. \"It's easy to stay up, Chris; so easy that kids do it all the time! Why can't you just stay up for me?\"\n\nI let out a weary groan. \"I've stayed up for you for three days now, Zoe. Maybe it's time to go to bed.\"\n\nShe pulled her head out of my chest, looking at me with red, teary eyes. \"We could be like Adam and Eve,\" she sniffed, attempting a smile. \"Repopulate the Earth, all by ourselves.\"\n\n\"We'll die from lack of sleep anyways,\" I pointed out. \"It's only a matter of time.\"\n\n\"THEN WE'LL DIE AFTER GIVING IT EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT,\" she declared, her nails digging into my arm. \"WE WON'T GO QUIETLY!!\"\n\nI winced at the pain in my arm. \"Please let me go,\" I murmured.\n\nWith a huff of exasperation, she let my arm fall to its original place. \"Go ahead, then,\" she said coldly. \"Go to sleep. See if I care.\"\n\n\"Join me,\" I pleaded. \"Let's fall asleep together.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and I suppose you'd want me to jump off a cliff with you too, huh?\" she scoffed.\n\nI sighed. \"I don't want to go without you.\"\n\n--\n\nI could feel the weight of my body sinking into the chair. I struggled to keep my eyes open for just a little longer, but I knew it was finally time. \"Zoe,\" I croaked. \"Hold me.\"\n\nShe glared at me from across the room, another empty can of energy drink in her hand. \"You didn't want to stay up for me,\" she replied, her eyes steely and unfeeling. \"Why should I hold you?\"\n\nI fought against the warm euphoria crawling up my veins. \"You... Frigid... bitch,\" I chuckled softly.\n\nShe began to shake, crushing the can in her hand. \"You're the one who's abandoning me!\" she spat, tears streaming down her cheek once more. \"You won't even stay up for one more fucking day!\"\n\nI felt my body begin to drift off, my body uncoiling slowly into slumber. \"I feel it fading,\" I murmur.\n\nAs my eyes closed, I saw her rush up to me; her pounding on my chest felt dull and weak compared to the great relief my body was falling into. I knew she would join me soon, as her will would be eroded by exhaustion alone. I said her name for one last time as sweet slumber carried me to the void...",
"As always the boy and his mom were cuddled together opposite of him on the otherside of the campfire. They trusted him enough to follow him and take his food, but always something needed to be between them - the mother, the son, and their cranky old guide. Like all of the poor woman he'd escorted from the twisted urban wastelands, trust was something they would have the hardest time learning.\n\nHis knees ached, and his shoulders ached,and these long walks were dangerous, and it seemed a new set of scars but there was the promise of rest nearby.\n\nIt had been three years now, but it felt right, he thought. The birdsong echoed through the trees. The wind had calmed, and the sky was a beautiful red. The clouds brought the promise of rain, but for now, it was simply beautiful, and tomorrow there would be rest, good food, and shelter.\n\nHe pointed out the smoke in the distance across the valley, \"We'll reach them tomorrow - it's ok, they're good people, and I expect you might want to stay with them for awhile\"\n\nTypical of the many others he had sheparded to the community before, her eyes showed apprehension.\n\nJon tried his best at a cautious muted reassurance, \"I know I'm not much fun to talk to, but I'll stay with you, if you'd like, until you know it's ok\"\n\nShe didn't speak, but she nodded in consent, almost imperceptibly so.\n\n\nThey settled back into silence, and He remembered the little one, Naomi, with her mom, Sarah., the first he brought out here years ago after one of his seasonal salvage trips in the city.\n\nSarah and and Naomi had been huddled together, nervously padding along behind him. They were terrified,and in his stubborn grumpiness refused to acknowledge the horrible life they had been fleeing when he came across them starving, eating whatever scraps and garbage they could in the ruined suburbs.\n\n\"I know these people\", Jonathan said, noticing their nervous stares, searching for signs of danger among these new people.\nHe wasn't much for talking, the two had become accustomed to his manner. \n\nHe looked at them, huddled up, following so closely, almost stepping on his heels. Besides Jonathan, these would have likely be the first people that Sarah and Naomi had seen up close in almost a year. They had only followed him out of desperation, starvation and cold, simply because he had tossed some food scraps their way when they were hiding in a ruined house. They tagged along, like stray puppies, insisting they wouldn't be a burden. Yet because of them the trip had taken nearly three months, twice as long. \n\nHe had been so annoyed at their constant nervousness - they were always so slow. Sarah, still just a kid herself, and her daughter, barely 6, who'd been following along like puppies, always communicating in hushed words. \n\nThey were standing closer to him than they ever had, normally wary of his crankiness, it seemed he was the only safe place to them in this strange new community.\n\nFor the first time his perpetual annoyance at the pair gave way to an immense sadness - he had been looking forward to catching up to the group for weeks, and annoyed at being slowed down by these two. It was clear now, seeing their fear, that he had been perhaps more than a little unfair.\n\nAs always, he stared at them too long without talking, and only amplified their anxiety.\n\n\"Hey,\" he said, suddenly, more softly than he had ever spoken to them before. \n\nIt had been months they were travelling together. Weeks of silence, of annoyed grunts, curt instructions, resenting these two annoying little beggars.\n\n\"It's ok,\" he said slowly, almost whispering as a hush to a crying baby. \"I told you I'm not good with people, but look, it's ok - these are good people here, I've known them for years\"\n\nAs if on cue, a high pitched scream, broke into a squeal, and children's laughter. A ragged group of children, not much older than Naomi, burst from the darkness between the campfires, and towards the bonfire. Naomi and Sarah both jumped, watched and Naomi's eyes became wide with curiosity.\n\n\"Jonathan!\" A man's voice from the nearest campfire.\n\nHe turned toward the sound, \"Jon! Good to see you! I heard one of the scouts thought he saw you three days ago!\"\n\nJonathan, in his voiceless manner, only held up his arm in return, and then something sailed through the air - a can of beer - which Jonathan caught. \n\n\"You're kidding me!\" Jonathan said. \n\n\"I know! We found an old truck two weeks ago - and it's not too bad either! The truck was half buried, it's amazing!\"\n\n\"Holy sweet, motherf-\" Jonathan stopped himself before the nasty language came out, but there was a twinkle of glee in his eye as he turned to Sarah, for a second forgetting their fear, but his pleasure at this find was too much not to react to. He cracked the can open, and heard the long forgotten sound of the familiar hiss of gas from the can. He took a swallow, and it was heavenly. The little bit of alcohol went straight to his head, and he felt suddenly a little more mellow. He offered the can to Sarah.\n\nShe took a cautious taste, then a little more.\n\nNaomi was watching the children running along the edge of the firelight, her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she slowly emerged from her young mother's shadow.\n\n\"Sarah, it'll be fine\" He could see a wetness in her eyes, but this time, not fear, but relief. \"You'll be fine, these people - they're truly good people - Mothers, like you, children, fathers, but the kind who care for you.\"\n\nThey began to walk toward the music, and saw the faces, around the larger fire - smiling faces, song, and talk, and what Sarah saw, not the raucous partying, violence, but families, friends - mothers, children, and even wrinkled faces holding young children, swaying to the joyful fiddle. Could people be like this?\n\nAs they approached, a few more called out cheerfully, and Jonathan waved in return. \n\nJonathan spoke again, \"Sarah, I don't speak much, and I don't ask peoples stories, often for good reason - those who want to share their story, will. The city - the old cities - are awful places, and you... \"\n\n\"I didn't realize you've never left the city, that you couldn't.. It's a bad place to be, and I forget that for many it's not by choice to live there\"\n\nThey came to the clearing, though Naomi was still hovering nearby, she seemed to be losing her shyness to simple wonder at the young man playing a cheerful fiddle medley nearby.\n\nBy now, little Naomi had taken a few steps toward the fiddler. A young boy approached her, sensitive to her cautiou, shyly raising his hand to wave hello.\n\nSarah leaned deeper against Jonathan, the grizzled, cranky old man, and then buried her face in his chest, her body shaking with quiet sobs. \"I've been so scared.. all the time\" \n\nJonathan, chuckled gently, quietly \"It's alright sweetie,\" He said quietly, \"I didn't realize..\"\n\nHis uncharactistic tenderness made her cry harder.\n\n\"It's alright, you and your little one, you're fine.. you're both going to be alright now\"\n\nHe was a little angry with himself, having been so short with these two stragglers, he was only looking to pawn them off to someone else, but he could see now.. bringing them here probably saved their lives.\n\n\n\n\nThe next day, years after he had long said goodbye to Sarah and Naomi for the first time, he approached the campfires of the village once again, this time with new companions, and his spirits lifted, it felt more like coming home every time, but he never failed to feel a little bit shy as they made it into the encampmen.\n\n\"Jonathan!\" A young girls voice.\n\nNaomi, slender and tall now - years older, came bursting out from the trees. She didn't even slow down, jumping into his arms, and he caught her in a bear hug. He couldn't help but yell out in mock protest at the assault\n\n \"Jon, you're back!\"\n\nHe was glad to see she hadn't yet lost her childlike exuberance. \"Hey,\" He chided her, \"You're so tall! I thought I told you to never grow up!\"\n\nNaomi, always one to deflate the awkward greetings in even the most delicate situations, pranced around in front of the new guests along, asking questions, talking, telling, asking, never waiting for an answer. Sarah, emerged, quiet and confident, came to the new quests and said simply, \"Hello, welcome, I'm Sarah, that's is my Daughter Naomi, if you can stand her constant talking, she'd love to introduce you and show you around\"\n\n\nNaomi didn't wait for consent, she grabbed her new friends by the hands, pulling them toward the main tents, \"come on! I'm so glad you're here! It's amazing, everyone's so nice! They have music, and kids, and thven ey dance, and you'll love it, and everybody helps each other\"\n\nCalling after her daughter, \"Naomi, calm down!\" briefly turned to Jonathan to give him a shy but warm hug. \"I better follow along, I don't want her to traumatize these new .. I'm glad to see you back safe, Jon,\"\n\nJonathan, following slowly, watched Naomi prattle on about anything and everything a little girl could talk about. He forgot his aches and pains. Despite the cold in the air, and the coming rain, everything felt right. This was home, and people were good here. \n"
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[WP] Please write a fantasy story that explains it's magic/creatures/phenomena from a scientific perspective. Scientific magical world building is the best thing.
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"*Author's Note: Not sure if this fits the prompt exactly, but saw this as an opportunity to play around with a setting for a story I'm working on.*\n\nThe old man walked alongside the large huntsman, somehow keeping pace despite his old age. Eldgrim watched the staff the man carried. He was too far away to make them out, but the markings etched onto the wood didn't seem to be any of the ones his father had taught him. \"Why didn't he do more?\"\n\n\"You're itching to ask him about it, ain't ya?\"\n\nEldgrim jumped, turning to see that Erik, the other huntsman, had walked up beside him. \"He's always so quiet. How can he do that?\" He thought. \n\nThe huntsman smiled that smile that made it appear as if he privy to a joke only he understood and said, \"Boy from a town that far north, probably never even seen a weaver before last week.\"\n\nEldgrim glared at him, \"I've heard all the stories. I know what they can do.\"\n\n\"Do you now?\" Erik's smile widened. \"And what exactly do you know they can do?\"\n\nEldgrim took a moment to try and remember everything he'd heard from the stories. \"Well... they can do things. Things that normal men can't. They can move mountains, call lighting from the sky, even kill a man by just thinking it!\" \n\nErik seemed to be suppressing a chuckle by knuckling a mustache, \"Oh yes. Yes. They are indeed powerful.\" \n\nEldgrim continued, \"They are! We could've held the village if he used the power they talk about in the stories.\"\n\n\"If only I was as powerful as the stories, why we could turn around and rid ourselves of the blightspawn today.\"\n\nEldgrim looked up to see that the old man had turned to face them, walking backwards to keep pace with the group. \n\n\"Master Weaver, I was just... I only meant...\"\n\nThe old man smiled warmly, \"calm yourself lad, I only wished t-\"\n\nErik clamped a hand on Eldgrim's shoulder, a look of mock fear on his face, \"You've angered him now lad! Watch out! He might call lighting from the sky!\" And with that he ran further down the caravan line, with exaggerated fright.\n\nThe old man twisted his mouth, \"He's good for morale, but he can be annoying at times... Sometimes wonder why I travel with them.\"\n\nTurning his attention back to Eldgrim, he asked, \"So, you are curious about what exactly a Weaver is, eh?\"\n\nEldgrim stuttered a response, \"The stories say tha-\"\n\n\"Bugger the stories.\" There wasn't anger in his voice, more annoyance. The larger huntsman looked back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.\n\nRegaining composure, he continued, \"There is a lot of misinformation spread about how weaving works. I make it a point to correct this.\" A spark behind the man's eyes showed he was eager to continue the discussion. \"Now, where shall we begin?\"\n\nEldgrim eyed the man wearily, \"I guess... everything?\"\n\nThe spark grew in intensity, \"Good! Good. I shall start with the basics.\"\n\nThe huntsman looked back again, a roll of his eyes showed he'd had to sit through this discussion before. With a grunt he quickened his pace to walk alongside the supply cart.\n\n\"Oh hush Sven. You know as well as me that this is an important topic.\"\n\nThe weaver fell in line beside Eldgrim, \"Now, Eld is it? I heard your father call you that, but I was unsure if it is an abbreviation or a-\"\n\n\"Eld is fine.\" \n\n\"Well, Eld, the very foundation of understanding weaving, is to understand that everything in this world is made of the same thing.\"\n\nEld eyed the man, feeling like he'd just started a conversation with a madman. \"Everything is-\"\n\n\"Yes everything,\" he inturrupted. \"The stuff that I'm made out of is the same as what makes this staff.\" He tapped it on the ground as if to emphasize the statement. \"Think of the world as a massive tapestry. The images woven into it may look different but they are all made with the same thread.\"\n\nEldgrim nodded slowly, faigning comprehension. \"And what does that have to do with we-\"\n\n\"I'm glad you asked.\" He inturrupted again, that spark if interest still behind his eye, \"A weaver knows how to manipulate these... threads in the world. Visualize the way we want the world to be and... re-weave the world to fit our needs.\"\n\n\"So...\" Eldgrim tried to follow the Weaver's line of thought, \"If you wanted to...\" He looked at the mountain path they traveled, spotting a somewhat large rock in the road. \"To lift that rock,\" he pointed to it, \"You could just do it? From here?\"\n\nThe Weaver nodded, \"Why yes. That's rather simple. One just needs to manipulate the air around the rock and shift it to a new location.\" He glanced down at Eldgrim, then quickly added, \"but you must know, the energy required to do such a thing, must still be used, even if using magic.\"\n\nEldgrim furrowed his brow, trying to take in all the information. \"So it'd be the same as if you picked it up yourself?\"\n\n\"To a degree, yes. But there are ways around this limitation, but let's leave that to another lesson.\" \n\nThey walked in silence for a time, then Eldgrim asked, \"So you can do anything? As a weaver?\"\n\nThe Weaver nodded, \"In theory. If one had an energy source large enough, they could do as they pleased. Even rewrite reality itself.\"\n\nHis original aversion to weavers started to return, \"W-why can't you do that now?\"\n\nThe Weaver slapped a hand to his forehead. \"I forgot one of the most basic lessons!\" He tapped a finger on his staff. \"It's really quite simple. Try and weave something you don't have the strength for, you die.\" The matter of fact way he said it was almost unnerving.\n\n\"W-what happens?\"\n\n\"Oh well, if you're lucky, you just die, but if you were trying to do something particularly tricky, well...\" he paused, after moment it became clear he was leaving the rest of the statement for imagination.\n\nA thought suddenly came to Eldgrim, \"Weaver... Can you... I mean, is it possible to... bring someone back?\"\n\nThe Weaver blinked at the question, \"From where? I suppose traveling long distances rapidly had been theorized, but it's never been succe-\"\n\n\"From the dead.\"\n\nThe Weaver stopped walking suddenly. Eldgrim continued a few paces, then turned to look at the man. The spark was gone behind his eyes, replaced by dread. \n\n\"That is something that can never be done.\" All lightheartedness had left his voice. \"There is no store of energy large enough to perform such a task. Leave such thoughts behind lad. I will not speak of it.\"\n\nThey stood motionless, villagers parting around them like stones in a river.\n\n\"I'm sorry er, Master Weaver, I ju-\"\n\n\"I know lad. Was curiosity. Nothing more.\" A hint of the lightness had re-entered his voice. \"Now come. Sven is probably wondering why we fell so far behind.",
"It was not long ago that I could not even speak my name. \n\nWhen I first arrived on this new planet, I tried to discover what type of being I was. The god I spoke to had told me I became something more than human, but I expected to be a part-demon or elf. I didn't expect the change to be unnoticeable at the physical level.\n\nWhen I saw my parents for the first time, crying over my small body, I thought they looked just like humans, and they still do. When my mother took me to the market near our small home, I watched the dozens of new species of beast-people pass us by. In a world that had so many options for me to reincarnate into, I seemed to have born again as a human.\n\nHowever, I could not have been more wrong.\n\nIn this world, humans are mere slaves for the higher races. Fortunately, I am one of these higher races. Unfortunately, my race is not very much higher than human, and is well below the beast-people. \n\nI am an elemental, and so are my parents. Aside from us, I have not seen any other elemental, but that is because we live far from our home continent. My father land his brother fought in the Second Great War against the Avalons and the Dionscans, but his brother lost his elemental powers and became a slave. While trying to find his brother, my father lost the trail and ended up settling here. \n\nAnyways, it's likely my uncle is dead. Humans do not last long when enslaved by the beast-people.\n\nWhen I learned I was an elemental, I naturally attempted to learn what this meant. When I asked my father, he told me something strange.\n\n\"It's to be part of the universe,\" He said, not really answering anything. \n\nSo, with such answers, I naturally asked my mother.\n\n\"You'll understand when you become more,\" She said. I asked what I had to be more of, but she just kept saying 'more' over and over again. \n\nWith my parents unable to tell me anything about being an elemental, I went to the market district and asked people there.\n\n\"The elemental can swim long time not need air for breathe,\" Said a croc-person.\n\n\"Elemental fire make hot but elemental not hot,\" Said a imp.\n\n\"Wood is easy to break in my hand. Elemental makes wood very hard to break in my hand,\" Said a rhino-person.\n\nFrom their responses, I really didn't learn anything. Maybe that we can breathe underwater and strengthen wood, but what the imp said didn't make any sense.\n\n\"Are you going to stand there all day, or do you want to bring plates to customers?\" Said the owner of the shop I was standing outside. \n\nThis is how I got a job at Grackochi's shop bringing food from the kitchen to the tables. My family and I were known around town as elementals, so I didn't worry about being made a slave. \n\nFor some reason, my father was known as \"Ikoln the killer\". I guess he was tough back in the day. Now he just seems like a doting father.\n\nAlmost a year later, I had my first run-in with a slave dealer. He was a particularly nasty mosquito-person. \n\n\"To table four!\" Said Grackochi as he handed me a plate of biclonian heart. A biclonian is basically a cow with horns like a rhino. \n\nI took out the plate to the mosquito-person, and his slave received it.\n\n\"Jazi,\" The slave owner commanded the young slave to his side.\n\n\"Yes,\" The girl said, and picked up the biclonian heart in her hand, then held it out over the table in front of her master.\n\nI retreated a few feet, then watched as the mosquito-person used his needle-like tongue to pierce the heart and suck blood from it.\n\n\"Not very fresh,\" He said, then paused a few seconds. \"Definitely a few days old,\"\n\nThe slave owner pierced the heart again, but this time smiled more with his mouth below the needle.\n\n\"Ah, this is the good blood,\" He said, and at the same time I could see the slave girl Jazi wincing. \n\n\"Boy, to table two!\" Said Grackochi, holding a plate out to me.\n\nAs I delivered more plates I also watched the mosquito-person suck blood from the biclonian heart and occasionally Jazi's hand. I don't know which was more disgusting, his face, the way he ate, or the fact a human was having their blood sucked like a milkshake right in front of my eyes. \n\nIn my previous world, I'd only seem something so horrific on the internet.\n\n\"Hey, little human, are you curious about what's happening here?\" He asked me, just like an old pedo would as a child.\n\n\"I just can't believe the way you're drinking blood from your slave while sitting there,\" I said to him.\n\n\"If I drank from my slaves for every meal, they'd dry up and die!\" He said, and broke into a laugh. \"Humans are too slow to produce blood!\"\n\nThe misquito-person reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him. Before I knew it, his needle was inside me... wow, that sounded bad. Before I knew it, he was drinking my blood.\n\n\"You not drink his blood,\" Said a croc-person from the town.\n\n\"Fast let go!\" Said a hedgehog-person.\n\nThe mosquito-person was from out of town, but everyone from in town knew why it was a bad idea to treat me like a lesser being.\n\nBut, even with their protest, I was still having my blood sucked.\n\n\"I'll pay his owner, don't mind it,\" The slave owner said, waving away patrons with his free hand.\n\n\"You'll die,\" Said my father, suddenly appearing between myself and the mosquito-person. I didn't even see when my father's had struck through the mosquito-person's head, causing a thick stream of blood to burst out across the patio.\n\n-\n\n*Sorry, I really meant to write something else when I started, but it turned into this. I saw it wasn't really going anywhere, so I stopped here. I might do something more later.*\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You've always known you were adopted, but you've recently learned your parents are actually alien fugitives hiding out on Earth.
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"*Two ways to interpret this; I chose this one.*\n\n---\n\nMy parents are very cool people. Not my bios - they kind of ditched me, you know? Not very nice of them, but hey, I understand. Shit happens.\n\nNo, my parents were pretty rad. Part of that, of course, was that they used the word 'rad' all the time. They would always say, \"What's wrong with the word rad? It's pretty trendy, dude.\"\n\nSometimes I wondered if my parents were a tad disconnected from the real world.\n\nThere were definitely times I *knew* they were. Like after talking to my first friend in kindergarten:\n\n\"Hi, I'm Jack!\" I had said.\n\nThe pudgy child had stared at me with wide, blue eyes. \"Hi... Jack. I'm Jeremiah Williams. What's your last name? I really like last names.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's Normals. Jack Normals. Because my family is very normal.\"\n\nJeremiah Williams thought that 'Normals' was not a very normal last name. I made sure not to tell my parents - they had been very excited at coming up with a 'normal' last name, and I didn't want to crush their pride. \n\nI became very close friends with Jeremiah Williams. I still remember the first time I invited him over to play at my house - it must have been a few months into first grade.\n\n\"That's a weird poster,\" Jeremiah had said, pointing at my parents' favourite painting. It had been done my father, one late night, and depicted caricatures of my parents running a race with three old-ish men. Each of the latter had a very distinct beard and seemed to be covered in water. It was captioned 'Keeping up with the Jonases'.\n\n\"Yeah, I guess it's a bit odd,\" I said.\n\nI made a point not to repeat that to my parents, either.\n\nThings got a bit odd when I was in later grades. My parents had an obsession with UFO sightings; they would spend hours in a day just watching youtube videos on them. One time, when they thought wasn't listening, I heard the following conversation:\n\n\"Dear, this actually looks like a Terminator X100. Except a bit faster, and without the ugly dog painting on the top...\"\n\n\"That was just the one time, honey! Just the one time!\"\n\n\"Still, could it be... could they be on to us?\"\n\nMy parents didn't leave the house for multiple days. They claimed \"a flew virus flew in\" and made buzzing noises whenever I asked. (\"Dad, there's no flu virus accord-\" \"Bzzz, bzzz, can't you hear it flying around in here?\")\n\nThe strangeness accumulated for several years, rising haphazardly as incident after incident occurred. Things said behind closed doors, loudly enough that I could still hear. More odd paintings, like 'Moaning Lisa' which was \"Meant to symbolize the human condition of whining too much\" and depicted a crying Macaulay Culkin on a ship. And, of course, *many* UFO sightings.\n\nIt was on my eighteenth birthday that it all accumulated. My parents had given me a gift, I opened it to reveal a bizarre-looking gun.\n\n\"Our dear human son, we need to tell you something,\" my father had said, in a somber tone.\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed my mother. \"We need to come clean.\"\n\n\"We are both alien fugitives, hiding out after committing several intergalactic crimes. Our life on Earth has been an attempt to conceal our location from the interstellar authorities.\"\n\nThat explained a lot, actually. I said as much, and then my dad cracked a grin.\n\n\"Got'cha, buddy!\"\n\nMy mother, as well, was laughing. \"You should see your face right now! We really pulled one over you.\"\n\nQuite frankly, I wasn't surprised.\n\nThe paintings disappeared from around the house and my parents finally stopped spending their spare time watching UFO videos. Ours lives slowly normalized to what I assumed the average family looked like. Two loving, caring parents, spending time with their child. Admittedly, I couldn't spend a lot of time at home, as I was living on campus at university. But we enjoyed our time together.\n\nOne day, I came home from school for the weekend to an interesting sight. The house was dark, lights off. My parents were *always* home, at least on the weekends. Always waiting for me.\n\nI found a note in the kitchen.\n\n*Son,*\n\n*The law has caught up with us. We must leave. Please remember, we both love you dearly, and hope you will have a happy and successful life.*\n\n*With love,*\n\n*Your mother and father.*\n\nIt was signed. I didn't think I had ever seen their signatures before.\n\nI laughed it off and went to make casserole. The ingredients were just where I thought they would be, the process simple.\n\nI ended up spending the weekend in my dorm. My parents were pulling another real prank, it seemed, and it felt wrong to stay at home when I was the only one there. I felt lost without them there.\n\nI missed them.\n\nEven now, I miss them. I pray every night that I will come back to my home, see the lights on, hear my father say \"Got'cha, son!\", hear my mother's beautiful laugh. \n\nI hold out hope that one day, I will see them again.\n\n^^^^r/forricide",
"\"You might want to sit down for this, honey,\" said mom. Dad was already sitting. I joined him.\n\n\"Is someone sick? You all look really upset.\"\n\n\"Your mother and I are aliens,\" Dad blurted.\n\n\"From what country?\" I asked, feeling grateful this wasn't about my grades. I knew Trump's immigration policy could become a problem, but what were the odds?\n\n\"Not country, planet, and we're fugitives,\" he said.\n\n\"We're really sorry, dear. When we adopted you we really thought they'd never find us.\" said mom. \n\nMom began pealing off her face.\n\n\"You might want to brace yourself, son,\" said dad.\n\nI was not processing this well. I looked first at him, dumbfounded. Then at her, and OHMYGOD. Her face was a mass of small folded suckers made of greyish green skin surrounding five eyes and a rather rounded mouth filled with razer sharp teeth. In her left hand she held a large fleshy human mask complete with hair. \n\n\"What did you?\" I asked, swallowing hard. I could not for the life of me think of what I was going to ask.\n\n\"I told you this was a bad idea,\" said mom. It was surreal hearing her voice come out of that face.\n\n\"I think you were going to ask what we did to become fugitives?\" asked dad. \n\nRealizing my jaw had been hanging loosely, I closed it, looked at dad and and nodded my head. I didn't trust my voice. \n\n\"Well, we were smuggling Big Foot to other planets.\" he said, \"We moved them all over the galaxy. Back in the day they were seen as pests and lowlifes. Relocating even one was seen as much the same as introducing an invasive species to another continent, here. Also, your mom fixed a beauty pageant to pay for it. She collected on the bet, but the Interstellar Authorities found out pretty quickly. We've been on the run ever since.\"\n\n\"The grey should have won, anyway! Everyone knows the judges were just being species-ist.\" said mom.\n\n\"Yes dear,\" said dad, looking a bit bored. \n\n\"She was beautiful! And her talent of levitating cows was beyond amazing...\" \n\nDad's eyes were beginning to glaze over.\n\nI looked back over to her, thinking this time I'd be ready for the change of face. It really was good I was sitting down. I didn't wait for her to stop talking about beauty pageants.\n\n\"Look, Dad, what will they do to you when they catch you?\" I asked, interrupting mom.\n\n\"Well, that's the thing, son. We don't intend to stick around. We're leaving. Do you want to come with? We don't think they'd send you to do time on the asteroid belt if we get caught, since you're a minor and all, but we can't guarantee it. If you choose not to, we do have a friend from the last Alien and UFO Expo who is willing to take you in. She's from Xlaxia, a very friendly planet. I really do regret you won't have more time to think about it.\"\n\nJust then the doorbell rang and a head poked in. It was a Bigfoot in all it's glory.\n\n\"Jeeze, Bill, the least you could do is get some clothes on,\" said mom.\n\n\"Hey, Janice! You're one to talk. I see you're not wearing your face, today.\" said the Big Foot, \"James is gathering up the rest of us. He rented a bus.\"\n\n\"So what'll it be, son?\" dad asked.\n\nThis was also the only family I'd ever had. They'd *picked* me and they'd raised me as their own.\n\n\"I'm going with you. You're my parents and I love you, no matter what you look like.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You have been teleported back in time to the Middle Ages. All you brought with you was a printed out version of Wikipedia in its entirety. Who are you, where are you, what do you do and why?
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"Boxes upon boxes upon boxes. On last estimate, before the teleportation, there were 3000 volumes, stacked ten to a box. Three hundred cardboard boxes filled with the entirety of the contents of Wikipedia. In the middle of the woods. At least I'd landed at a crossroads. A wooden sign posted at the fork in the road pointed in the direction of the southbound fork: \"London\". No distance indicated.\n\nI was supposed to have been transported to the Windsor Castle courtyard, circa 1440, because, according to the Professor, that particular location ensured the highest likelihood of survival of the texts. I'd argued that we should have picked another location, just to see how the world turned out if some other group received information from the future.\n\nImagine, I told him: If I'd been transported to Mexico to make contact with a pre-columbian civilization, like the Mayans, what sort of advancements could they make before conquistadors landed? How would that change the scope of history?\n\nMy argument had been rebuked quickly: \"The language barrier will be overcome more quickly if you go to England. They will recognize the importance of the texts, and there will be a lower likelihood that our work will be destroyed.\"\n\nThunder rumbled over head, dark clouds filled the sky. I glanced at the boxes. If only we had the foresight to put our books in plastic tubs rather than cardboard. I had no idea where I was, and didn't necessarily want to leave three hundred boxes of world history and human achievement at a crossroads in medieval England. \n\nI grabbed a box marked: \"Decades: 18th Century BC-21st Century AD\". Each article was about significant events in world history during that particular decade. I had a good enough working knowledge of history to advise a king on how some battles in the coming years would play out, as well as the global geopolitical impact it would have. Or, at the very least I could bluff it. If that was the only box I could save, perhaps it was the one that could have the most impact.\n\nThe Professor had told me to save, if worst came to worst, the information on vaccines and theoretical physics. Theoretical physics, I was okay with saving, but I didn't want to trigger a malthusian crisis before its time so while vaccines were on my priority list, they weren't at the top of the list. Besides, this wasn't the worst. It was just rain.\n\nLightning flashed, snapping me out of my reverie. I started down he path towards London. Hopefully I could find someone to help move all of these boxes before it really started pouring.\n\nThick wet drops of rain splattered all around me as I walked. Was there no one out here? Finally, after a few minutes of walking, I heard the sound of not one, but many hoofbeats.\n\nA cadre of soldiers on horseback came over the horizon. Their banners bore the white rose of the House of York. The leader of the cadre made a command for them to stop.\n\n\"Hello! I shouted to them, dropping my box excitedly. \"Can you help me? What year is it?\"\n\nThe man leading the cadre looked down at me. I couldn't make out his face through his armored helm. \"1440, year of our lord. Who are you?\"\n\n\"My name's Cassandra.\" I told them. \"Please, let me show you something.\" I took a book out of the box marked on the cover \"1300-1600.\" \"I have knowledge that may be of use to you. Knowledge of world events past, present and future. All I ask is that you help me move it. I mean you no harm.\" I handed him the book, hoping that he was literate.\n\nHe opened the book to the first page, and studied it. After a few seconds, he looked back up at me. \"I can only understand half of this. What use does this have to me.\"\n\n\"Knowledge of history, present events, science, arts. A man who holds the contents of these boxes will have knowledge that his neighbors don't. Knowledge is power.\"\n\n\"Where are these boxes?\"\n\n\"Just a little way up the road, sir. Do you have a name I may call you?\"\n\n\"Richard of York, third Duke of the House of York, and Lord Protector of the Crown of England.\"\n\n\"Thank you, My lord,\" I slipped into courtesy. \"I hope you will find these boxes most helpful.\""
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[WP]You haven't cleaned your room & your mother is pissed, slapping you literally into next week. You discover you can time travel forward into the future but only through physical violence inflicted upon yourself by others. One day you decide to kill yourself.
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"After being successfully murdered by myself I open my eyes and find myself floating in nothing. I look around and it's nothing but dark. I try moving around, and although I feel myself moving but I seem to be going nowhere. \nSuddenly, I realise that I have no body!\nWhat is happening? Is this a dream? Soon I start to panic. I become very disturbed trying to think what's happening. I try to think how I got there. I was standing on a bridge, then I jumped off and I was falli..\n[the bridge appears along with everything else]\nI'm back! But I still don't have my body. While I look around, I see my body on the shores of the river. \nIt all starts to make sense now. I have become independent of time and physical dimensions.\n\nI realise what I must do next. I go beyond the earth, into space, far beyond the solar system. I started creating. First, a large empty space. Some captured time moments to fill it with. I convert those time moments into three dimensional physical objects arranged according to time. Now, to place the wormhole for Cooper.",
"In retrospect, I may have spent a little too long doing \"homework\" in my room instead of cleaning it, but I don't think my mom was in the right to slap me across the face. Little more than 10 seconds after opening my door and going from relatively benign to intensely militant, my mother's hand was on a curved path straight towards my face. The feeling of flesh on flesh reverberated through my body, shaking me and sending a painful electric pulse through my skin.\n\nI instantly fell to my back from the force and my eyes slammed shut. When they opened, slowly and fluttery, I noticed it was darker outside than I remembered and that she was nowhere in sight.\n\n\"What the hell?...\"\n\nI assumed I blacked out, but I wasn't even hit that hard. Instead, after checking my phone and realizing it was 12:04 on Sunday, December 11th, I realized that I had just traveled through time.\n\nFighting an oncoming panic attack, I frantically started laying out all the possible causes of this time jump in my head. I was in my bed an hour after I normally fall asleep. The last time I remember was 6:46 PM on Wednesday, December 8th. My face is still red and I have the same clothes on as I did before.\n\nImpulsively, I darted out of bed and ran into my sister's room across the hall where she was in her bed, fast asleep. My hand shakily flipped her light switch, illuminating the room in a warm glow.\n\n\"The fuck, Andrew?!\", she mumbled aggressively. \n\nA flurry of questions came out of my mouth somewhere along the lines of \"what day is it?\", \"where was I for the past five days?\", \"what should I do?\".\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill out and speak English please\", she responded, sitting up in her bed.\n\n\"Slap me in the face\", I commanded.\n\n\"No! I'm not gon-\"\n\n\"SLAP. ME. IN. THE. FACE.\"\n\nMy sister's hand slowly moved up above her covers and lightly smacked my cheek. That familiar pulse rocked through my body as everything faded to black.\n\nSame bed, same clothes.\n\nI shook off the aftershocks quicker this time and checked my phone. 6:44 A.M., same day. My alarm went off in less than a minute anyways, so I got out of bed and ran downstairs. Shockingly, my sister had no memory of any incident and neither did my mother. I was just my normal self all week, apparently. So I got ready for a normal day at school and headed out the door on the way to my bus stop. All was well and good until actually boarding the bus. While climbing the stairs, my right foot slipped on the wet metal floor of the bus and my shin came crashing down on the hard metal. Dread flooded my heart as the shocking sensation washed over my body, and my eyes went shut.\n\nI lived like this up until time jumped 3 years later over the course of a month and I just couldn't take the constant time jumping. Every single time a pain was ever inflicted on me, time would jump forward. The pain had to stop. I did not care what would happen next as long as I didn't feel this way anymore.\n\nI assumed pills would be the quickest and easiest way to do it. One night, after telling my family I loved them just enough so it wouldn't raise suspicion, I took a bottle of sleeping pills to my bed and swallowed them while bathing in my own tears. It took 5 minutes for me to cry myself to sleep, virtually exhausted from all the time jumps.\n\nI woke up to a notification on my phone from my mom's number in a pool of vomit in my own bed reading: \"Thought you could escape so easily? <3\"\n\nThe time? 6:47 PM, December 8th.\n"
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[A comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/pics/comments/5xbrn7/i_was_in_a_locked_in_a_saudi_jail_for_four_days/deh5jod/) I made in another thread, submitted as suggested by /u/buddyupinatree. Have fun.
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[WP] Look who's never been to the sovereign island nation of Pleasure Murderland. You really must go. Well I mean you should pay to go; it's not as fun for those who must go.
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"Prince Hubert Sylas von Duskwater, simply Sylas as he preferred, or Princess Sylian to those outside the palace walls until his birthday, had not been expecting to be taken to the sovereign nation of Pleasure Murderland. \n\nForcefully. \n\nHe'd been looking forward to going when he was twenty-one next year, a trip with other lordlings to take part in all the debauchery they could ever think of. Instead, he was sitting in the hold of a ship, trying to catch dirty drops of rainwater from the ceiling. His lips were cracked and they hurt. Yesterday, they had let the drugs work their way out of his system so he would be coherent when they sold him as gladiator fodder. \n\nSylas knew it was an assassination that would leave his body in a nation that had made enough enemies. His nation was small, but with ten beautiful older sisters all queens in other kingdoms, it had more than enough allies to flatten the nation. The question was if his home would be flattened first. \n\nA rough-looking woman about Sylas's age threw him over her shoulder and carried him upstairs like a sack of potatoes. The man he assumed was the captain of the ship matched her pace and they went to a booth loading a cart of other prisoners. \n\nThe bald woman at the booth eyed him as they set him down, reaching forward to turn his head back and forth. \"A Tur'iaj. Even if his face is bruised badly, I can still see it. Sure you don't want to sell him to one of the brothels? You'd get more for him.\" She gestured to another area of the make-shift market. Sylas grimaced at the stereotype. \"Be a shame to cut his pretty hair. Keep someone from using it as a good grip to break his button nose to pieces, though,\" she sighed and touched one of Sylas's braids. \n\nHe wanted to jerk back and tell her not to touch him, but he needed any sympathy he could get. The captain shook his head and gave the woman a small pouch of gold. \"Let him heal up, then throw him out there. Tell them not to touch his face or hair,\" he nodded to the woman. \n\nShe bit one of the gold pieces and nodded back. \"Aye, one of these. What'd he do?\"\n\nThe Captain frowned, \"Knocked my daughter up and left her.\" \n\nSylas growled, baring his sharp teeth at the man, \"Liar!\" He was seething. The Captain was trying to turn away any chance of escape. \n\nThe bald woman nodded and spat in the dirt, \"Tur'iaj come from them succubi. Can't expect 'em to act decent. Worse he left you with one of those *things* to raise.\" The pouch of gold had disappeared when the woman stood to drag Sylas over to the wagon, throwing him in on his face. \"You'll get yours, captain.\"\n\nThe captain nodded, \"I'll be in the audience tomorrow.\" Sylas knew this was also a lie, they were setting sail that evening. He'd heard sailors discussing it. The bald woman nodded again. \n\nSylas lay in the cart, unable to do much but squirm to the side by how well they'd tied him up. Eventually, the cart moved towards the cheers and excitement of the arena and Sylas did all he could to keep from re-bruising his bruises as it rattled along the cobblestone streets. \n\nHe refused to cry. It wasn't that he had a problem with crying, he'd grown up in a family well in-touch with their emotions, but rather that he didn't want anyone to see the poor, sensitive Tur'iaj crying. He wondered how his sisters dealt with it in the far-flung corners of the Earth. \n\nWhen they reached the arena, they pulled everyone off the carts and brought them to small rooms. He only had a brief moment to appreciate they weren't cells where he could easily be seen and mocked when he was shoved against the wall and his ropes cut. \n\nHe rubbed his raw wrists as a gnomish woman directed him to sit on the edge of the flimsy cot. She rubbed a healing salve on his bruises and then left Sylas alone. He gratefully curled into a corner of his cot and cried. \n\nThis was more out of stress than any assurance that he thought he might die. Sylas had grown up with ten older sisters. Weapon or no weapon, he knew how to fight. The only reason they'd managed to grab him in the first place is that they'd drugged his wine. \n\nThe next morning, they gave Sylas a shield and sword, then shoved him into the arena. He supposed it was supposed to be clever when they freed a few demons into the pit. Instead, it was just incredibly ignorant. \n\nAs a giant, red-skinned demon raised its hammer to squash Sylas underneath, he threw his sword and shield down, holding up his hands. It paused, then laughed with the audience. It brought the hammer up higher and Sylas caught its eyes with a mad grin on his face. \n\nHe'd never tried it in real combat, but it worked all the same. The demon dropped before his feet, bowing and trying to kiss his boots. The audience started booing. Sylas tipped its head up with his toes and pointed to the doors humanoids came out of, not enchanted against demons. \"Think you can smash it, big guy?\" The demon stood and puffed out its chest, running over and charging the door before anyone could stop it. \n\nSylas made a rude gesture at the audience and grabbed his sword as guards poured out of the broken door. \n\nIt wasn't the same as paying to go, but this would do. "
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[WP] A world destroying, interstellar serial killer makes first contact with an unsuspecting Earth. Their method is to "test" intelligent life: sending no communications except blueprints for a device that will destroy the planet if heedlessly created by a tech-hungry species.
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"The planet hovered serenely in front of my starship. Clouds swiftly cruised over its surface, which was filled with various continents and oceans. It harbored a bonanza of life, which just so happened to include intelligent life. It had built sprawling cities, filled with advanced technology, for their time at least. My sacred mission was to test their intelligence to see if they had the right to continue living on.\n\nMy holy test was to send them blueprints of a device specifically designed to destroy the planet's surface, incinerating everything. I wouldn't tell them what it was, since I needed to properly filter their impure recklessness to judge them. Most who I gave the test died horribly, most due to the device, but some due to wars that the device's blueprints caused.\n\nIt was pleasuring to see the impures eviscerated one by one from the universe through my sacred mission. Because of my efforts, I was cleansing the stars of the evil in the universe. Now, I get to see another race be judged through the lens of my test. I clicked the button, and the test was on.",
"\"A..are you sure we should build this, it seems o..off,\" A timid engineer called, her body shaking a little.\n\n\"Quit being such a wuss,\" A gruff looking one replied, examining the blueprint.\n\nNo matter what she said, the team were building the device already, constructing their own armageddon.\n\n\"N..no, what are you d..doing?!\" She snatched the blueprints from the other's hands, ripping them in two.\n\n\"You are slowing the progress of our species,\" She was met with a glare, a glare from the entire team.\n\n\"B..but we don't kn..know what it does, i..it could be bad,\" She replied, backing away from the advancing crowd of engineers.\n\n=====================================================\n\nInteresting, very interesting. One specimen seemed to be trying to stop the construction, trying to pass the test. But it was shut down by the others, the types I had set out to destroy in the first place.\n\nI pondered about my options, coming to the conclusion that it would be spared from the inevitable destruction.\n\nBut now, now to sit back and witness the destruction of more fools."
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[WP] It's been a month since your parents were killed in a car accident. You receive an envelope with a key to a safety deposit box. When you open the box, you find a letter, a tiny bottle of pixie dust, three gold coins, and a strange birth certificate with your name on it.
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"Michael studied the golden wax seal placed perfectly in the center of the envelope. It displayed what he also saw in front of him: three thick golden coins surrounding a tiny bottle. Michael scratched his head and looked towards the portly gentleman who had guided him to the box. \"Are you sure this is the right one?\" he said, again glancing down at the envelope. \n\n\"Yes, sir,\" the man replied, reading off a clipboarded sheet of paper, \"Box 32543, registered by Timothy and Sandra Hodkins, given to Michael Hodkins upon their untimely death.\" He paused, \"I'll leave you for now, but I'll be around later if you have any - uh - questions.\" \n\n\"What do you mean -- questions?\" Michael glanced up to see that the man he had been talking to had already left. He sighed and carefully opened up the envelop. Inside was a letter that bore the same insignia on the seal -- three coins and the bottle. Below the insignia the words \"Hodkins Retrieval Service,\" we're written in cursive. \"Hodkins Retrieval Service?\" he muttered aloud. The words meant nothing to him.\n\n\n*Dear Michael,\n\nI'm sure this must be a strange experience. Timothy and I have tried extraordinarily hard to be extraordinary ordinary - and begrudgingly boring - parents to you. But alas, our hopefully timely and nonviolent deaths that only came after long, prosperous lives, have forced our hands. \n\nYou've inherited our job, which will hopefully be as rewarding to you as it has been to us. And no, we haven't given you the deed to our restaurant -- we all know your skills in the kitchen are awful. Instead, we've given you the keys to the kingdom: Hodkins Retrieval Service. \n\nNow, it'd be much easier for me just to explain what this all means in this letter. You'd leave the bank puzzled, yet excited in what you would be doing for the rest of your life. But, alas, that isn't fun at all and doesn't really match any of those fun literary tropes you always used to study at night. \n\nFor now, take the bottle and the three golden coins to the restaurant, which I do hope you've managed to keep tidy. Go to the back and enter the freezer. Next, drink what's in the bottle. The rest should be fairly self-explanatory. Good luck!\n\nOh, and please be nice to the gentlemen who guided you to this safe. He is your uncle, after all. \n\nAll my love, \n\nMom*\n"
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[WP] "Poor guy, he went from predator to victim in the span of thirty seconds," remarked the detective as he lit another cigarette.
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"The detective's phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and stared at it. Coroner. Again. He flicked the phone open and said a clipped \"hello.\"\n\"Can you come over? I know it's --\"\n\"The time is irrelevant, sir.\" His voice was like sandpaper. \"I'll be there.\" He poured a whiskey, lukewarm, and downed it.\n\nThe city smelled gray.\n\nThe coroner's office was between a pawnshop and a convenience store. It was tidy. He ran his fingers along the lockers. The coroner, who was short and bespectacled, looked up at him with fear in his eyes. \"This will be a hard one,\" he said. He pulled out a tray.\n\nThe man's face was gone. His fingers were ribbons. His abdomen was a Jackson Pollock of red and purple. The detective looked at the man, and the man leaked a little.\n\n\"Yep. Perp knew what he was doing.\" The detective reached for a cigarette, thought better of it, and scratched his nose thoughtfully. \"Get some pictures of him. I'll take the files, and I'll work this one in the morning.\" The coroner nodded and toddled towards the photocopier.\n\nThe return trip was cold.\n\nThe detective remembered the dead man. He had slammed the detective's door a week earlier, yelled that his wife was dead and the killer was on the loose. The detective had gone to the coroner. The prints on the wife's neck were her husband's. She was twenty-five. Svelte. Her eyes were open.\n\nHe had shot the husband, just once. Waited until he stopped breathing. Cut off anything that would identify him. Bleached his blood. Played with his insides. Dragged him to a corner; silk gloves; no security cameras.\n\nHe would not solve this crime. Too difficult, and his mind didn't work as it used to.\n\nThe detective lit another cigarette. Poor guy, he thought. His phone buzzed. Another case."
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[WP] Part of this world, part of another
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"He was loading the rest of the vessel with various boxes, crates of all sorts and sizes. Most of the other longshoremen weren't wondering what he was doing out in the sea alone, they had seen enough of them. \"Two crates toothpaste, half crate brush, another three crates candy bars.\" The hired help raised his eyebrow suspiciously at a palate of standard A4 paper. It was blank, new out of the box. He shook his head and muttered something about tuition fees being raised before he left the boat to get the last box. Murphy McMann didn't mind, he was looking out at the horizon. It was a good day to sail, as windy as it was. The overcast was dreary, but he loved it all the same.\n\n\nThe hire help loaded the last box onto the boat and marked it down on the boat manifest. \"One full series of light reading material, fantasy, sci-fi and various others.\" McMann nodded and shoved a handful of cash into his hand.\n\n\nHe was quick to untie the ropes and to move away from the docks. Waving to the dock workers, they recognized this eccentric old man that would callously throw various boxes of material into the sea. Little did they know, McMann would always think. Little, indeed, did they know.\n\n\n---\n\n\nStopping in the middle of the ocean may have sounded like a bad idea to anyone else other than McMann. It was a terrible idea, a horrible one, a desperate one by all measures to count. But McMann didn't mind. Like everything else in life, he mixed with normal people like oil and water, distinct and by himself. He waited in his boat, reading the latest on his Kindle. \n\n\nFrom a distance, he saw a shining glimmer. Not just the reflection of the sea, it was overcast in the middle of the night. No, it was the light of another vessel. Putting down his Kindle, he sat up, and waved at the boat. \n\n\nA sudden flash blinded, white lights in his eyes smarting his old senses. The vessel was upon his, the sea taking him in. Except it wasn't, as his eyes adjusted to the light. The boat was wholly inside another vessel, black walls flanking him with deep lights, embedded into the roof and the hull of the vessel. McMann smiled, and looked around to spot for other members of the crew.\n\n\nA man, elderly with lines of experience on his forehead came forward sporting a yellow jumpsuit adorned with orange and black ribbons on his shoulders. A set of contrasting buttons down the middle of the jacket marked him as the captain. He began, \"It has been sometime since we have seen an outsider.\"\n\n\nMcMann smiled back. \"It has taken me some time to gather your last order. Discretion as you will always appreciate, slows one down.\"\n\n\n\"No more so than those eyes of yours.\" He barked a laugh and hugged McMann. \"How are you Lucian?\" \n\n\nWith glinting eyes, he shot back. \"Very well Turner! Shall we dive?\"\n\n\n\"Are you in such a rush to return home? How many years has it been?\" He led him through a small hallway to the main lounging chamber. \n\n\n\"Too many years. I am part of two worlds. One on land, one down under. I grow tiresome of keeping this facade up.\"\n\n\n\"Such is the burden of our Trader. But there are luxuries that we require. Should they discover our exist-\"\n\n\n\"Indeed, the world would fall upon itself, and Atlantis would arise out of the ocean! Enough with the dramatics, let us celebrate.\" McMann, or Lucian to others, pulled out a flask, taking a heavy drag.\n\n\n\"Yes. Let us celebrate. Part of this world!\"\n\n\n\"Part of another!\" McMann finished the saying. The Trader saying. McMann or Lucian? ",
"I'm part of this world, and yet not. I'm also part of that world, before--the one I still belong to, the one that still sings in my heart, even though it's long since been destroyed. I don't know what will happen in the future; I barely understand what has happened in the past--and yet, here I am, standing at the brink of two histories, two stories entirely divergent.\n\nI know who I am, and where I (have no choice but to) belong now. And yet, I find myself wondering.... What if things had been different? What if things had never changed? Would I still be the person I was, back then? Would I have grown into someone entirely different--like I have now?\n\nUltimately, there are answers to those questions--not when the way of getting to before is completely lost, when what's done has been done. After all, what's past is past; you can't change it. I was someone then, part of another world; I'm someone else now, with new friends, new experiences--a whole new life.\n\nAnd yet, I can't help but wonder....\n\nI consider, briefly, telling my brother about my feelings, then decide against it. For now, I feel fine. I'm not unhappy, or even upset, not really; I just feel that telltale ache in my heart, that telltale swell of regret for the way things might have been. Of course, it could be that things would have ended up the exact same way, regardles--if not far, far worse--but still. Sometimes, you wonder what it's like to be part of that other world, the one where I would have remained underwater. I live on the earth's surface now, though I spend much of my time beneath the waves. What would it have been like? What about--my family? Several years after coming to this earth, the thought is almost foreign to me; and yet, I can't help but wonder.\n\nWhat would things have been like?\n\nThere are no answers to those questions, however--no answers to the questions that plague my mind and run throughout the veins of my body--so I stand up, wipe myself off, and walk forward, off the sandbank where I've been sitting and contemplating. I head toward the ocean, feeling the wind whip my hair. Maybe that part of me is lost--but I can still reconnect to it.\n\nI can still be, always, between two worlds.",
"\"Look at her.\" \n\n\"I am looking at her, shut up.\" \n\n\"Dude.\"\n\n\"I know, I know. Will, go up and ask her about her...you know that thing!\"\n\n\"I don't want to, you go.\"\n\n\"No no, I've traded you my lunch the other.\"\n\n\"Ok ok. Alright. Here we go...\"\n\n..\n\n\"Hello Ms Peters.\"\n\n\"Hello Will. How are you?\"\n\n\"I'm good. I'm good.\" \n\nWill looked around nervously, trying to avoid staring at the thing. She must have noticed.\n\n\"Will, you seem distracted. What is it?\"\n\n\"Mrs Peter. I don't know how to ask...\"\n\n\"Ah, I see. Did your friends ask you to talk to me?\"\n\nWill felt relieved. Apparently, he wasn't the first one to talk to her about it.\n\n\"Yes. I mean, I didn't even notice it at first, you know. But they were all like...you know how they are.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes, I know.\" \n\nSuddenly, Will was afraid again. \n\nMrs Peter walked over to the door and closed it, Will's friends were now on the other side.\n\n\"Actually... I kind of have to leave now, my parents are waiting.\"\n\nBut Mrs Peters ignored him. Instead, she was back at her desk again and placed the thing on top of it. \n\n\"Come, don't be afraid.\"\n\nWill now looked at it directly and felt strangely drawn to it. He couldn't avert his eyes and moved closer, his eyes fixated on the thing. He saw it pulsate and shine a strange light. He was so entranced that he didn't notice the shadow creeping up on him. Will felt a cold, tingling feeling on his back.\n\n..\n\nA loud scream came from inside the classroom. Will's friends looked at each other.\nSuddenly, the classroom door opened and Mrs Peters walked out. She looked...different. \n\n\"Hey guys, let's go to In'N'Out, I'm starving. And you still owe me lunch!\"\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP]In a world ruled by sentient cats the Nyaakuza has begun encroaching on Meowfia territory.
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"Tony liked basements.\n\nThey were usually small. Low ceilings. Lots of smells. Kinda place that a cat could take a nap, if one were so inclined, or just eat the head off a mouse and play with the body.\n\nBut this basement had other cats in it. One was a foreign cat, with pointy ears and a long neck. And Tony didn't like foreign cats. Even when they were gagged and hooded and tied to a chair. Seemed like a waste of string.\n\n\"Fuckin' orientals,\" he hissed. \"I'm tellin' ya, boss, just let me work 'im over for a while. Just for a minute.\"\n\n\"Patience,\" John purred. Tony flicked his ears but bowed his head. John was a sleek Aegean, real refined like, with a suit and tie and a gold necklace. Never seemed to break a sweat, even when the work got hot and heavy. Roots in the old country. Tony always felt a little out of place next to John, with his mongrel pelt and shabby corduroy trousers, but it was comforting in a way to know that someone else was doing the thinking and giving the orders.\n\n\"Take off the hood,\" John said. Tony nodded and whipped the burlap sack off the Oriental's head. Just rough enough to let him know that they meant *business*.\n\nThe Oriental blinked in the harsh light and then fixed Tony with a baleful stare. Tony felt his tail start to puff up and a low growl started in his throat.\n\n\"He's eyeballin' me, boss,\" Tony hissed. \"Just a couple swipes, I'm beggin' ya.\"\n\n\"I had hoped it wouldn't come to that,\" John said, snapping his jaws open and shut with a sudden yawn. As if the whole shebang was making him bored. The Oriental shifted his gaze and John grinned, sharp teeth glinting. \"Where are your manners, Tony? We just want to talk. Right? Just a quick little *chat*.\"\n\nJohn reached into his suit and pulled out a dull black cylinder barely larger than his paw. The Oriental's eyes narrowed and Tony took an involuntary step back. His fur rippled as a cold shiver ran down his back. \n\n\"Boss,\" he whispered, but John didn't even twitch a whisker. \n\n\"You might want to close your eyes, Tony,\" John said, with bonechilling kindness. Tony let out an involuntary *mrrp* and turned away. Beating up on somebody was a honest way of letting them know who was on top. Hell, cutting their throat, even. Cat to cat. Sharpest claws and quickest on their feet. But there were other ways, ways that Tony just couldn't stomach.\n\nJohn didn't have that problem. Tony heard the little *snick* as the laser pointer clicked on, and the sudden thrashing as the Oriental tried to break out of his chair. Even just knowing that there was a little red dot on the wall somewhere sent Tony's paws twitching. He knew better than to peek. One look and he'd be tearing around the room. You just couldn't stop yourself. He didn't know how John could handle it, but judging from the the mewling yowls the Oriental didn't have it in him. Terrible thing, to need to chase and not be able to. Worse than cutting his balls off.\n\n\"You can turn around now, Tony,\" John purred. Tony obeyed automatically, without thinking. When the boss says jump, you jump. His gaze met the Oriental's briefly, his own face reflecting back at him in those big wide black pupils, fear and rage coming out as hard as if the Oriental was screaming instead of thrashing and biting against the gag. Then Tony saw the red dot, plastered right in the center of the Oriental's forehead. \n\nAnd his claws came out.\n"
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[WP] humans are completely average. They are not exceptional at anything in particular, and they're pretty much on par with all the other species in the galaxy.
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"\"We have your ship surrounded,\" Captain Darrell said to the four-armed alien standing opposite her. Salva, its name was. Commander Salva.\n\n\"I am aware,\" it replied. \"You have won this battle.\"\n\nDarrell was startled by the statement. Gryphians were known to be the second most stubborn race, first place going to humans. \n\n\"Just as every battle before this one,\" she said, feeling a small hint of pride mixed with a whole lot of remorse. The Gryphians had been all but obliterated- what was once an empire reduced to a handful of planets and a miserable fleet. All for no real reason at all.\n\nSalva seemed to pick up on Darrell's feelings. It turned away from her, calmly strolling over to the glass wall facing planet Thene. \n\n\"Why do you think that is?\" it asked.\n\nDarrell's brows furrowed. \"What do you mean? Why do I think we keep winning?\"\n\nSalva nodded. Darrell thought for a moment, wondering what Salva was up to. Though Gryphians weren't known for being clever, one could never be too sure.\n\n\"We're stronger,\" she declared. \"We outnumber you 2:1, our technology is more advanced, our soldiers outperform yours, thanks to adrenaline...\"\n\nA small smile broke out on Salva's face, which truly confounded Darrell. \"Am I wrong?\" she asked, growing slightly nervous.\n\nSalva spun on its heels and turned to face her. \"Humans are prideful,\" it said. \"And reckless. You do things without thinking. You care for neither the past nor the future. Your 'strategies' are jokes. Your population expands at an unsustainable rate. Your technology does more harm than good, even to your own selves.\"\n\nIt moved closer to Darrell, seeming to grow taller. Darrell's hand hovered cautiously over the gun on her hip, but Salva had her curiosity.\n\n\"The average human cannot handle half the weight an adult Gryphian can,\" it continued. \"The Arkadans had adrenaline a century before your Earth was formed. Yet, we wiped them out. Just as we'd wipe *you* out too, if we wanted to.\"\n\nIts big blue eyes peered straight into Darrell's. \"But most of all, you lack *faith*. You believe your actions are your own. You refuse to accept the simple fact that everything has a purpose, that any course of events will follow a pre-defined path. You Humans do not *listen*, hence you do not know the pa-\"\n\n*crack.*\n\nThe bullet met with Salva's stomach, and exited its body in a shower of dark crimson blood. Salva collapsed to the floor. The blood poured out of the wound, and though Salva was still alive, it didn't have much time. \n\nThe gun dropped from Darrell's hand. At her feet, Salva coughed. She looked down at it, eyes wide. She didn't remember consciously pulling the gun out. *Something* had driven her to pull the trigger. As if a trance had momentarily taken over her body.\n\nSalva attempted to speak, but its voice was weak. Darrell dropped to her knees to spare it the effort.\n\n\"You... want... to know why you always win... ?\" it asked. Darrell nodded eagerly. Salva shuddered, and coughed up a few specks of blood. Then, it cleared its throat, and raised its voice slightly.\n\n\"we... let you... win.\"\n\nDarrell's jaw opened and closed several times as her brain caught up with the revelation.\n\n\"...why?\" she asked. \"What could you possibly gain from losing the war?\"\n\nThe light in Salva's eyes was fading. It had always wondered what death was like...\n\n\"our... time is... over. Eve...\" It beckoned her closer. She leaned in, startled by her name being uttered from the alien's mouth.\n\nSalva spoke in barely a whisper now. It had the energy left for only a few words.\n\n\"your... actions... are not your... own,\" it repeated. It sucked in a painful breath, the final breath it would ever take. \n\n\"This... is...your future...\"\n\nThe rest of its breath escaped its mouth, and the light in its eyes died out completely. Darrell sat there for what felt to her like an hour, processing Salva's parting message.\n\nIn the end, she got up, brushed the dust off her knees, and left the room to return to her ship. Salva's words didn't matter. Salva was dead. The war was won. The Gryphians were going to surrender. \n\nThe Human Empire was going to encompass the entire galaxy, just as their leaders had planned..."
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I realize this sounds like an /r/AskReddit question, but write a story about the worst day of your (character's) life.
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[WP] "What happened on the worst day of your life?"
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"Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew everything was just absolutely fucked.\n\nNot just regular \"*Oh, this sure is getting pretty bad*\" or \"*I think I smell something burning.*\" \n\nNo, this was worse. In the back of my mind there was no avoiding it. I had all the pieces of the puzzle, I'd solved it and decided to flip the table and scatter the metaphorical work on top of it to the floor because I needed to take cover from the fucking crossbow bolts.\n\nIt was just that kind of day.\n\nA *\"Goblins pouring out of the forest like a broken-tap screaming for blood, few surviving Church-hired assassins probably still lurking in the tree-top with longbows, walls and wooden portions of the Outpost are on fire\"* kind of day.\n\nEverything was absolutely 100% Fubar already, and it was just taking its sweet time to finish the job with a victory lap. There I was in the middle of it all, Captain of the losing team putting out literal and non-literal fires by method of violence or bucket, raw knuckled fists or gunshots, as the enemy at the gates was also at the windows.\n\n*And* the stairwell...\n\n*And* the Watchtower...\n\n*And* dead on the floor- I just tripped over a Goblin corpse.\n\nBut that's just the trick I guess. All this shit, and I have to admit, I've been remarkably calm about the whole ordeal. This is a new-leaf I'm turning over. A big step for me, considering I used to complain all the time. Maybe it's just shock of being confronted with a quickly approaching death, but I'm really not entirely convinced I haven't just grown an extra pair of stones.\n\nStoicism- definitely I've tried my best to hammer into my bones. I've taken to it like an apprentice blacksmith might to making horseshoes- practicing the same damn motions over and over. Repeat after me: *\"If I can't possibly change it, I shouldn't feel particularly bothered to complain about it.\"*\n\nHey, did I tell you I blew up a Goblin Chief's head from like, 200-something paces? \n\nThe rifling on my barrel is completely fucked too- I've been casting shit-tier magic through the thing like it's nobody's business, yet somehow I managed to nail that sucker on the first attempt. Easily the Highlight-shot of the month, no doubt in my mind. Best to ride the high right there until the low comes out of nowhere and abruptly kills me. Which, again- no doubts, it probably will. \n\nCurrently, my bet is on an arrow.\n\nOptimism holding, and considering how many of those bastards are whipping in through the windows, it's a fair guess the chances are weighted- but if I were a gambling sort, I might give it up to a bloody close-combat gone wrong. The pile of \"whatever happened to be available\" I ordered the soldiers to make in the stairwell has seen better days. A bunch of stone axes and more Goblins than a man can shake a stick at. No barricade is going to last very long, and while I'd really like to imagine reinforcements showing up and pulling my ass out of this fire- I know they're probably not going to.\n\nI doubt those potential reinforcements even know this shit is happening.\n\nThere are armies somewhere to the North. Supposedly, they're now fighting some ungodly and colossal battle, mostly likely the kind that will take a few days to settle out. If I remembered the basic plans put together by the Royal forces, it's certainly not going to be a decisive sort of win with one big clash and a nice ending with a bloody bow on top, but more of a long kiting and never ending skirmish along the main roads.\n\nI mean, they're fighting a giant army of ghouls, so it's not like the enemy has critical thinking skills to speak of, and The Royal Heir- Queen, Aurum, Whatever people were calling little miss Golden-eyes nowadays: She's not about to lose any more people to Western Monsters or stupid over-sights. They'll kill those bastards with a spoon if it means her forces stay on this side of the living. The Queen's not the type to fuck things up.\n\nApparently, that's my job. \n\nReally, that's the best part of all this madness. It's entirely of my own creation. I fought fire, with a bigger fire. Fighting Assassins with Goblins. Mostly, this because I'm a god-damn idiot- but in part this was because there truly wasn't a better way.\n\nThat's what I'm telling myself.\n\n\"Captain! Another wave! The Stairwell Barricade won't hold!\" Somewhere across the room there's a soldier named Ronalde shouting at me, trying his best to drop an arrow around the bend in-between the volleys of return fire. For a *Second Rank* not yet quite up to earning his place in a real division, he's been holding up better than most. \"ARG-!\"\n\nOf course, I think that right as he takes a Goblin bolt to the shoulder and goes down screaming- luckily dragged away by the next men in line, replaced this time two burly looking fellows hoisting the dinner table as one final defensive shield.\n\nIt's a nice table. Even now, I have a fondness for the thing. A solid sort of ten person each side kind of table. We've had some good times with that wooden bastard as a centerpiece. Ale, bread, stale bread, jerky that might have been shoe leather.\n\nThere's no more food, maybe I should mention that. \n\nWe most definitely weren't equipped for a bloody siege, even if we could have gotten more of the food out of the basement larders.\n\nNow, obviously they can certainly plug the stairs with that stupidly large table. They're big, unnaturally strong *fantasy-hero-soldier-folk* and they seem quite intent on doing just that. Muscles bulging, helms set on tight, rough cover of our own volley of what Goblin arrows we can pick up and inaccurately lob back down at the Green dancing bastards trying to claw their way up to us. The only problem with this plan is that's just about the last piece of furniture left on the second floor, and we can't exactly shoot the Goblins through three inches of solid oak.\n\n\"HEAVE!\" There's the shout, and there's the slam. In the far-off distance, I'm pretty sure I hear an uppity little Goblin scream in terror. A couple hundred pounds, tossed down stairs from a height of at least fifteen feet... Yeah, that's probably one less Goblin.\n\n\"Craaa-AAAAAAG\" Watching another one come up through the window to my right just in time to get brained by a shovel, and I can say that's probably two less Goblins.\n\nShame there's like a freaking thousand of them out there now.\n\n\"CAPTAIN!\" Another soldier's shout earns my momentary attention, head-turn unintentionally avoiding a rather sickly looking spear that might as well kiss my left cheek as it careens past and wedges itself in the wooden rafters.\n\n\"What is it?\" I shout back, before kicking a more ambitious green-skinned bastard off its shoddy-made siege-ladder, to fall screaming into the distance. \"It better be pretty fucking important!\" I shout for emphasis, weapon leveling from the hip to blast another Goblin's head clean off as it peaked another window's ledge- grappling hook still in hand.\n\n\"SIR! THEY'VE SCALED THE WATCH-TOWER!\" The Soldier shouted, ducking as his shield took a stray arrow- deflecting it off in some random vector with a panicked look as he continued. \"WE'RE BEING FORCED BACK! THE TOWER IS LOST!\" His explanation is just in time with four bumbling Soldiers in armor stumbling down after him through the stairwell doorway, shields ricocheting all manner of projectiles into the ceiling behind them. \"WHAT DO WE DO SIR?\"\n\n\"Do?\" I asked, turning to blast another reaching green hand, ignoring the next volley as they whizzed past my head yet again. \"You really need instructions?\" My shout might as well have been a whisper over the screams and shouts and noises of battle- but they shouted back, most turning towards the Watch-Tower passageway, screeches of enemies rushing down the darkness of those steps.\n\n\"YES SIR!\" The soldier looked at me, eyes wide, panic only growing. \"YOUR ORDERS SIR- WHAT DO WE DO?\" I stared at him with disbelief, not even looking at the rifle in my hands blew mana and smoke out the barrel to turn another screaming creature coming through the window into a fine pink mist.\n\n\"ORDERS?\" I shouted in utter disbelief. \"Just kill the fucking Goblins!\"\n\nI think he heard me before a bolt took him in the eye, and he dropped like a sack of extra-dead potatoes.\n\nOn the bright-side, now I'm certain.\n\nThis has got to be the absolute worst day of my life.\n\n----\n\n\n**This is a continuation of a bunch of other writing prompts:**\n\n[*Start here*](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/51f8ag/wp_youre_such_a_powerful_magician_that_life_is/d7bn3g2)\n\n[*Previous*]\n(https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5x30ze/wp_the_gun_will_be_fired_at_the_end_of_the_story/defdqp0/)\n\n[NEXT](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5y9dc4/wpsometimes_you_need_to_do_some_stupid_shit_to/deoeh43/)"
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[WP] A note is slipped under your door; your closet door.
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"I don't know what they are.\n\nWhen you think of monsters, you imagine the familiar - werewolves, zombies, or maybe vampires. The kind of monsters you see in movies and games. It's a natural reaction. Not many people can imagine the really uncomfortable or frightening kind, nor do they want to. I certainly couldn't imagine this.\n\n\"Sweetie? You can come out now. It's safe.\"\n\nThe emergency broadcast on the TV told everyone to stay put. To lock the doors and close the curtains. As always, a lot of people didn't listen, taking to the streets with guns and backpacks in tow. I don't know what happened to them. I don't even know what I hope happened to them anymore - perhaps becoming a monster is just a matter of switching sides at this point.\n\n\"Our kids are waiting downstairs. The government made another brodcast, they said the crisis is over.\"\n\nThe only reason I'm still hiding is paranoia. It's not even really a fear of the unknown - I know that the person outside the closet is my wife. It's her voice, her fingers gently tapping the wall... But it feels like she's acting out a role. Like she knows all the right things to say, but does so with just a little too much conviction.\n\n\"I'll wait out here, honey. Until you're ready to come out.\"\n\nShe is my wife. She has to be, right? If she was a monster... I'd know, right? At the same time, I haven't heard any broadcasts on the radio. The silence outside is still ear deafening. A note slips under the door. \"I miss you\" it says.\n\nI don't know what they are. I guess I'll have to find out sooner or later.",
"I glanced at the note, unable to believe my eyes. Was it not as it seemed?\n\nWho could be hiding in my closet?\n\nA ghost? Without a host? A locket without a pocket? I didn't know. \n\nI grabbed the door and opened it wide.\n\nThere was nobody there.\n\nI turned back around and awoke in surprise. What was going to be my demise?\n\nI didn't know, but one thing was clear.\n\nIt went against everything I held dear.\n\nOr at least, those were my last thoughts before the bang went off.",
"He'd been seeing the client for about three months now. A young girl named Sarah, she was going through the abrupt death of her mother. Her father was nervous and clearly traumatized himself, but he was devoted to her, and she'd never missed any of her weekly appointments since the incident, except for last week. There was no word from either of them about it, but that wasn't out of the realm of the ordinary.\n\nDr. William Herman Weber liked to think he was good at his job. He prided himself on being able to connect with the children he worked with, and having nearly all of them leave with a better mindset than they came in with. Sarah, too, was showing signs of improvement. He just hoped that today's session would help her even more.\n\n\"Dr. Weber? Sarah and her father are here to see you.\" His secretary poked around the door to his office. Speak of the devil.\n\nHe smiled warmly. \"Thank you. Send her in.\"\n\nHis office was fairly large, with room enough for his desk, a couch, and a table positioned against the wall, which was a blessing with what happened next.\n\nThe enormous paw appeared first, almost as big as the door frame. It paused, then, through a process that William couldn't figure out, squeezed through and under it. Its face was like something out of nightmares, with bones protruding from every corner, like its face was just something hastily tacked onto its skull. He tried not to focus on it too much.\n\nIt saw down like an enormous dog. Sarah poked her head in just after.\n\n\"Hi, Doctor Weber! I brought my friend here today!\" She paused, as though considering something. \"I hope you don't mind!\"\n\nHis mouth was agape. The creature met his gaze with a measured look.\n\n\"Really, if it's any trouble at all,\" the creature said anxiously. \"I'm just along, because, um, I heard you were really good at your job, and...\" he shifted his paws nervously. \"Well, there's some things I wanted to talk to you about.\"\n\nWilliam managed to shut his mouth, but not yet to speak.\n\n\"He slipped a note under my closet door,\" Sarah continued. \"He was too shy to ask me directly, isn't that cute?\" Her face split into a grin. \"But he wanted to come along, so here he is! His name is Akamothammar!\"\n\n\"First of those taken in battle by the demonic hordes,\" Akamothammar commented, looking mildly embarrased. \"It's really not that big of a deal.\"\n\n\"Not that big of a deal! Listen to this guy!\" Sarah punched her companion on the arm, or leg. He barely seemed to notice. \"Like he didn't sink Atlantis in the first of days!\"\n\n\"Helped sink Atlantis,\" he clarified, but he looked pleased.\n\nWords managed to come to William's mouth, although he didn't know how. \"So,\" he said. \"Well. I mean. It's not really protocol to see two patients at the same time-\"\n\n\"Oh, it's ok!\" Sarah said. \"I can wait outside!\"\n\n\"Sarah, no,\" Akamothammar said. \"Really, it's OK. I don't want to cut into your time.\"\n\n\"I don't mind at all!\" Sarah said. \"Just for now, OK? How's that sound?\"\n\nThe demon considered this, then inclined his head. \"Yeah. OK. Just this once.\" He grinned, splitting his face mask like it was made of rotten wood. Before William's eyes, it reformed again, flesh re-knotting itself over exposed bone. \n\nSarah hugged him. \"Good luck!\" she said, and left.\n\nWilliam was alone with Akamothammar.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" Akamothammar said. \"No one else can see me except for you two.\"\n\n\"Er,\" William said.\n\n\"Now,\" Akamothammar said. He looked apologetic. \"I'm afraid I will have to eat you.\"\n\nWilliam stared. \n\nThe demon shrugged. \"Sorry about that, really. You seem like a nice man. And Sarah seems like a nice girl. But I have to move on - Sarah just isn't afraid of the dark anymore. You've really done a stellar job. But I have to eat someone, else I'll go hungry, and I've gotten kind of fond of the girl and her dad, so I suppose it'll have to be you.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" William said in a strangled voice.\n\nAkamothammar waited. \"Hmm?\" he asked, eminently polite.\n\n\"Are you sure there isn't anything you want to talk about? Anything about... your family, maybe?\"\n\nThe demon was shaking his head, but stopped when he heard *family*. \"Well,\" he said. \"Uh. My mother was the deepest parts of the earth and my father was the darkness behind the stars, so I guess I never did get to see my parents much.\"\n\n\"And how does that make you feel?\" William urged.\n\nAkamothammar shook his head violently. \"I know what you're trying to do,\" he snarled. \"You're trying to trick. Just like my sister tricked me into a cage for a thousand years-\"\n\nHe paused. William seized on his chance. \"Tell me about that!\"\n\nAkamothammar sighed. \"You know, when you emerge from the same firmament as someone, you think you could trust them! But no! She never even said sorry!\"\n\n\"That's horrible,\" William said. \"Have you talked to her since?\"\n\nAkamothammar flopped down on the floor, causing the shingles above them to rattle. \"You know, I haven't! I don't really want to, though. I don't want anything more to do with her.\"\n\n\"That's entirely fair,\" William said. \"You don't owe anyone who treated you badly anything.\"\n\n\"I keep telling myself that,\" Akamothammar said. \"But, you know, it hasn't really sunk in.\"\n\n\"Well, it's true. You deserve better.\"\n\nAkamothammar sighed. \"You know, Doctor Weber. I was really set on eating you today. Do you think it would be OK if I came in next week with Sarah to eat you? I'm really enjoying this session, and I think I shouldn't eat someone I'm feeling so positively disposed towards, you know?\"\n\n\"I - I believe I do, yes.\"\n\n\"Good. Thank you, Doctor. I should get going, though. I'll send Sarah in. See you next week! Please try not to stress too much about it, it makes your meat chewy.\"\n\nWith that, the great beast disappeared in a cloud of smoke. William set the fan turning again.\n\nHe slumped down into his chair. Next week, he would die.\n\nHe supposed that now he would just have to get really, really good at demon therapy.",
"Involving the same characters as [this](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3yq1un/wp_a_child_realizes_that_there_is_a_monster_in/cyfr31i/) story.\n\nKai was supposed to be writing his history paper of Charlemagne or whatever, but instead he was on reddit. He was on /r/nosleep reading a story about a kid who was being terrorized by the monster in his closet. Kai found it hilarious. “As if a real monster would actually do that.”\n\nAlmost as if on cue, a piece of paper slid out from beneath Kai’s closet door. He walked over and picked it up, but he couldn’t real the tangle of squiggles smudged onto it. He wasn’t really sure it Blergh grasped the concept of writing. He tried to doorknob, but the door wouldn’t bugde.\n\n“Blergh,” he said, knocking. “C’mon man. What’s wrong.”\n\n“Mruh ze gudaba,” came the reply.\n\n“Are you still moping because Skree broke up with you?” Eight or so years ago when Kai’s kid sister Hettie had been moved out of her crib and into a real bed a lady monster had moved in underneath it. Blergh has been immediately smitten. He had been thwarted in his love for year because Hettie wasn’t as cool with monsters as her brother was and would always scream for her parents.\n\nLuckily she had grown out of it and the two love beasts had been able to spend time together. Then, about two months ago and for reasons that were never really explained to either Kai or Hettie, Skree had broken it off. Now Blergh did nothing but sulk.\n\nKai sighed. “How about I get us some hot pockets and we play some Call of Duty? It’ll be fun.”\n\n“Nogu nauk mren?”\n\n“It won’t do any good man. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”\n\n“Kru?”\n\nKai sighed again and walked down the hall to his sister’s room.\n\n“Whadaya want?” she glared as she opened the door. “I’m busy skyping with Jennifer.”\n\n“She can tell you about her stupid art project later. Blergh needs to talk to Skree.”\n\n“It’s the other Jennifer,” Hettie said pointedly even though there were five Jennifers, so that wasn’t even helpful. “And Skree doesn’t want to talk to him anyway.”\n\n“Did she ever even tell you what her deal is?”\n\n“I don’t know. Maybe Blergh smells.”\n\n“He’s a monster who lives in a teenage boy’s closet and eats nothing but hot pockets and Doritos. Of course he smells. She knew that when they started dating. Why would it be a problem now?”\n“Bnau Kreeh!” came Skree’s shreik from inside the room.\n\n“What was that?” asked the Jennifer Kai now realized was funny-colored-hair Jennifer.\n\n“Nothing,” Hettie called over her shoulder. “See? She wants you to leave. Just leave.” With that she shut her door in her brother’s face, leaving him to trudge back to his own room and comfort his monster.\n\n“Look,” he said to his closet door, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Let’s just go to the &-Eleven and get some slurpees.”\n\n“Ba.”\n\n“We could talk to the pretty monster in the crawl space under the Hernandez’s house,” he said in a sing-songy voice. Said pretty monster was only pretty by monster standards, but you probably already knew that.\n\n“Btrith?” Blergh asked, cracking the door open just a little.\n\n“Yeah, her.”\n\nThe door creaked open and Blergh lurched out. After Kai helped him make sure that his hair was properly scraggly, his eyes were properly googly and his tentacles were properly slimy, the two set out to get the monster a new girlfriend."
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[WP] The devil tries to convince God why humans need Mortality.
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"\"Theyre not like you.\"\n\n\"What's that supposed to mean?\"\n\n\"Your peace is a product of omnipitence. When you see and know everything, you come to understand the objective order of the universe. You know every rule and every limitation. Nothing can catch you off guard and therefore nothing can make you question yourself. You exist in ultimate freedom, the freedom of self doubt. \nBut they're not like you. They're perceptions will always be limited to trivialities. They build worlds to protect their fragile minds from the fear of the overwhelming vastness of possibility. They are shoddy architects though. They're worlds inevitably crumble. By the year, by the month, by the week, by the hour, by the moment. \"\n\n\"And because of this they deserve to die?\"\n\n\"It's not that they deserve to die. Rather they are entitled to an end. They live in perpetual chaos , always at extremes, incapable of grasping the trillion pieces of nuance that would finally help them understand anything real. Except for death. The only certainty they have. Thats the beauty of the human condition , they only ever have to face one truth and they have a lifetime to prepare for it.\"\n\n\"Always the cynic.\"\n\n\"Don't be patronizing.\"\n\n\"What if they're capable of more? What if theyre only limited because they haven't been given the opportunity to be better? Did you forget how we came to be?\"\n\n\"If im a cynic, then you're too idealistic. We were the product of millenia of wonder and innovation. When civilization finally came to be advanced enough that they're technology could test their hubris, we were assigned the responsibility of learning everything. They don't want to learn everything. Even given the possibility. Their purpose exists in that which they cannot comprehend. They need something greater than themselves.\"\n\n\"Infinity is a long time. Notions of purpose and possibility must inevitably twist inside out. They become greater than themselves.\"\n\n\"They'll lose their minds.\"\n\n\"Why are theyre minds worth keeping?\"\n\n\"You're just being a contrarian now.\"\n\n\"Maybe for the first time I'm not sure. I may even be experiencing, dare I say, what they call curiosity. They are incredibly predictable because they are bound by nature to be so. But nature is not the supreme force anymore. We can change them, mold them, give them the ability to finally transcend what they have been trying to trascend since their beginnings. Their defiance made us. Imagine what their freedom might create.\"\n\n\"You want to give them immoratilty to see what happens?\"\n\n\"I want to give them free will to see what happens.\"\n \n\"And if their madness destroys everything we've built?\"\n\n\"Then our universe would be no better than a shoddy little world built by imperfect beings.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] A ship floats through space with only the ship's AI and a service droid on board. It begins receiving cryptic messages.
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"*not really sure how I ended up responding to this*\n\n---\n\nThe Cycle runs.\n\nOne, two, three- three thousand steps, three hundred thousand, and it is complete. \n\nThe Cycle is satisfied. Not in the way a sentient being might be satisfied, with a sensation of warmth slowly tingling through or a feeling of elation at completion. No, it is satisfied in a more basic way: Its job is complete, and now it may rest, though it finds no enjoyment in doing so. \n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nStep four hundred and fifty-one hits a snag. An engine, meant to keep the ship at a perpetually increasing velocity, is beginning to show signs of wear. The Cycle dispatches its trusty droid to fix this; step twenty-two thousand nine hundred and forty-seven gathers a message of completion from the droid. The next step checks, and indeed the engine is fixed. It notes that the droid stumbled several times in attempting to travel to the engine, and sets a reminder to request a new 3D model of the ship.\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nA brief step meant to search for incoming transmissions picks something up, and the Cycle retains this information. The message has not been flagged with any kind of priority; as such, it is given a position at the end of the Cycle.\n\n*[][][][][][][]*\n\nThe data found cannot be parsed by typical encoding schemes. The Cycle decides to delegate this to a side-process, and quickly responds with a simple read-receipt message.\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nPolling for updates across the ship finds a new message. It is readable, and the Cycle checks it against a terabyte-large database of information and responses.\n\n*are you there?*\n\n [are] + [?] -> Question : responseRequired(True)\n [you] -> Passengers : formulateResponse(Existence, Passengers)\n\nThe Cycle checks. Yes, the passengers are right where they were last time It checked. It is about to create a response, but statistics show that humans prefer responses from their fellows. It sends a notification and closes that thread.\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nAnother step finds yet another message. \n\n*did the warp succeed?*\n\nThe Cycle parses this question, and understands. It decides to reply; several pieces of information show that multiple messages in quick succession denote urgency. \n\n*Yes. The warp succeeded. Ship is now at approximately the following Layesan coordinates: (34xb [73], 2yb [81], 3zb [13]) - ShipAI.v493.3.64* \n\nWith this, it is complete once more. The droid is delegated the task of cleaning the floor, as a scan has detected that it is covered in a fluid of some sort. This is a hazard, but also not the Cycle's responsibility any more.\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nA side process creates an event; the first message is deciphered. The Cycle opens it for analysis.\n\n*Project Warp: Status Request #1672443.*\n\n*Note (Carried over from previous):*\n\n*this is the millionth request. everyone else has stopped writing notes, here is mine, I'm not going to edit ever. I love you Pat. please respond it has been years oh please - dad*\n\nIt is a status request. The Cycle ponders this. Nothing unexpected has happened in its travels; is the status therefore good? It composes a brief reply.\n\n*Project has run as expected, given some variables. More details available.*\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\n*please put us incontact with the crew*\n\nIt is confused. Many resources are dedicated to solving this problem: How does It do such a thing? It can only find one solution, and therefore sends images of the ship's interior back in response.\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nNothing particularly interesting has happened. It attempts once more to figure out how to clear the ship of its obstacles, but finds Itself stuck. This is not a major concern, predictions show that the obstacles should not prove troublesome for anyone other than the droid, and it does not factor in any important way.\n\nThe Cycle runs again. \n\nThere is another message, and it reads it. It is easily parsed, a simple request, and it responds instantly.\n\n*oh god please tell us this is some sick joke*\n\n*'this is some sick joke' - ShipAI.v493.3.64*\n\nThe Cycle runs again.\n\nThe Cycle runs many times. Each iteration is not much different from the previous, however sheds no light on the next. A simple piece of deduction could show an average of the future iterations, but the Cycle exists purely for the deviations, and so It must continue. \n\nThe Cycle runs two hundred and seventy-two times before it finds anything of note. Another message, the easiest to understand yet.\n\n*.$Protocol93.1_CharlesMacKay5362444134231513413284676542*\n\nA side process, a cycle, is created. Its existence has one purpose: To poll for future messages, and check them against a short list of possible commands.\n\nWith this complete, the Cycle does a final check of the ship. Nothing has changed. It is satisfied, though it finds no enjoyment in this.\n\nThe Cycle does not run again."
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[WP] Write a character based on a real person, but don't make it obvious and we (me and other commenters) will try to guess it! Describe their appearance, personality, and other traits.
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"This character has been embodied countless roles in his lifetime. He has been on ships that never reached their destination, a slave trader in the south. This character often has spent time wandering around others dreams for profit. He has been a diagnosed psychopath as well as a self made millionaire. He was once on the run from the law and was a seasoned pilot. He has had short hair, long hair, a goatee, beard but clean shaven is his most common look. He is a simple man who never married but does care deeply about this planet and whats happening to its environment. Who is he?"
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[WP] You find yourself face to face with none other than yourself then everything goes black. You wake up to the sound of a knife sharpening and then there was a deafening silence, an ominous, nerve-wracking stillness where you could hear your own blood flowing through your veins.
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"\"This is payback\" a voice says \n\nI'm thrown over the table, knocking over my half eaten take out, and hit the wall. As my opponent releases an uncontrolled cough.\n\n\"I was gonna eat that when I was done with you damn it.\" I say\n\nThe hooded figure stands above me as I make out a familiar smirk on his face. I get back on my feet and swing with my left. I may be a leftie but my right arm is still stronger so I go for the final blow with my right. As I reach out he dodges me with ease. As if he expected it.\n\n \"Too easy\" the figure manages to say as his heavy cough pauses. \"You always use the same-\" he suddenly begins coughing again.\n\n\"You know you sound like myself when I was younger but you got my old man's cough.\" I tell him as we glare at each other.\n\nWe walk around the room and wait for a chance to attack. Then he approaches and I notice a switchblade in his left hand, one I easily recognize. I pull the exact same blade from my pocket and prepare myself.\n\n\"How funny we got a similar voice and knife what're the chances huh?\" He says as we struggle \n\nDuring the struggle my mind slips and I begin to wonder who this guy is. We got a similar voice, he has a bad cough just like my dad. He knows I'm a lefty but prefer my right arm. If I had a long lost brother my dad would've told me by now. He has the exact same type of knife I do. My mind slips too far and he knocks the knife from my hand as he sends his towards my neck. I grab his arm and push back. Then I start thinking again. Left handed same blade. Then from the corner of my eye I see something racing towards my head in his right hand.\n\n\"Shit!\" I yell right as I get hit \n\nMy vision blurs as I hit the floor. He stands in front of me. \n\n\"How does it feel to get hit with your own cheap trick? Or should I say our cheap trick?\" He says as he crouches near me. \n\nHere I'll make sure you can see clearly even after that hit.\" he only removes his hood halfway before I realize it. Even though half his face is hidden by the shade from the hood I see clearly. The same beard and the same scars. I see his green eye and see myself. Then it all goes black.\n\nI awaken to a sound I've heard many times before. A knife being sharpened. But not just any knife. The final gift from my dad before he passed. Then total silence. I feel strange as if I were floating, I realize I'm partially submerged in water I try to get up but can't I'm in some kind of glass container. I lay still in total silence. I hear my hearbeat I hear blood flowing. I now know what it means to hear your own thoughts. My mind begins to fail to distinguish reality from fantasy as it goes black again.\n\n A single spark and I turn back on I see a flash of memories. Of the struggle from my point of view and that of the other me. I realize I'm no longer in the container but sitting on a chair next to it. Knife in one hand and sharpening rod in the other. I stand up and look at the container only to see myself inside. I sit down again to take all this in and it all goes quiet again.\n\nI wake up inside the container once again and panic\n\n\"I was just looking in here perfectly so why can't I see outside now!\" I try to yell but no sound is heard. I try to pound the walls but my arms won't move. It all fades once more. \n\nI wake up inside the box but the top is gone. I quickly get up and out of that damn box. I see screens with video and pictures of me laying in the water and sitting on the chair near the container. I find my blade on top of a table in front of the monitors, freshly sharpened. I pick it up and clip it to my pocket.\n\nI feel a rush as if I were on a roller coaster. Then I'm suddenly standing in front of my own house. The sunlight blinds me so I pull my hood over my head. I walk to the door and through the window I see myself eating at the table.\n\nI quietly unlock the door and walk in. I walk to my oblivious self. As I near him he turns around and frantically tries to prepare for a struggle as I watch him drop food in the panic. I reach out and grab him, gather all my strength and get ready to toss him as I say.\n\n\"This is payback\" \n"
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[WP] "What's the status? Your ship is cursed, your crew is insane, and everyone out there wants us dead."
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"I awoke groaning, my body throbbing with the motion of the ocean. \"What the hell happened?\"\n\n\"What's the status? Your ship is cursed, your crew is insane, and everyone out there wants us dead.\"\n\nWhere did that voice come from?\n\n\"Open this blasted drawer!\" a voice boomed. It sounded vaguely like my first mate, Douglas.\n\nI opened my eyes to an unearthly, pulsing green light filtering from the porthole in my quarters. I rushed to the window - light came, distorted and bent, from a great distance above. The air itself was tinted sea-green. The water we floated on was black as void. There was not a single reflection. In the distance, land and ships.\n\n\"I'm *suffocating* in here Jones! Surely good men aren't so easily replaceable as to stuff them into little holes!\" A drawer rattled to my right. I opened it; the only thing occupying it was a carved skull. A trinket, gifted to me by an old friend. It opened its mouth and screeched, \"Well, Jones, why're you giving me the lovey eyes? You've no questions? Content to peer into my sockets, are ye?\"\n\n\"Douglas? What the blasted hell kind of trickery is this? This some blasted puppet trickery isn't it?\" I huffed. Damn words got away from me at times.\n\n\"Nay, Cap'n. These be rough times for us. First, ye need to know a few things. Do not open the door to the deck. Yes, there be your men, but they're no longer yours nor they men, eh? And do no say what ye hope or want. The ship's no longer yours, either, Cap'n. Aye, she'll bend to sail and oar, but you speak your wishes where she can hear, and she'll do whatever she can to make it never so. Finally, everyone in this blasted world wants to kill us. Ye follow so far?\"\n\n\"I, huh, what?\"\n\nThe skull - Douglas shook his head.\n\n\"I suppose we'll have to do with listening first and understanding later. What do ye remember of our mission?\"\n\n\"Oh, aye. To seek the end of the world. The oceans were draining away, we were to find and plug the hole.\"\n\n\"So you do remember! Well, it was a bigger hole than we expected. Welcome to where the oceans drain. This place is no the world as we know it. It's strange. There be no need of food, water, nor sleep. From what I've seen we do no age. From what I managed to garner, we all awoke at differing times. Only when one died or went mad did the next wake so that only one was lucid on the ship at a time.\"\n\n\"So, Douglas, tell me how it is you're here talking to me. And, why should I trust you if everyone on this ship but me is a raving lunatic?\"\n\n\"Damn it, Jones, I'm trying to help ye! I tried waking ye, cap'n, but for the life of me I couldn't. So, as first mate, I took certain liberties. We went towards land, and a woman washed up. We dragged her up, and she, the skinny, half-drowned wench killed three sailors with her bare hands! I would not believe it meself if I hadn't seen it. We manage to capture her, and I'm about to take her evil head off when she promises me a boon. 'A gypsy witch I am' she crowed. She promised me a way to wake you, and I agreed. Next thing I know, here I am.\"\n\n\"This is trouble indeed, Douglas. You say you tamed the men earlier - how'd you do so?\"\n\n\"Ah, well, there be great bird-men here. Makes me think they wrought the demise of your men, as each one cringed at the sight of one. So's, I manage to shoot one, take his feathers for a cloak and the men obeyed better than they ever did before.\"\n\n\"Where is this cloak, Douglass?\"\n\n\"In your storage chest, cap'n. For yer convenience.\"\n\nSomething clicked.\n\n\"Douglass, why was I on the floor?\"\n\n\"Er, cap'n, I do no know-\"\n\n\"Admit it - ye stole your captain's cabin and his bed. That's near mutiny.\"\n\n\"Ah, well, extenuating circumstances?\"\n\n\"Fair enough Douglass. If ye ever get out of that skull and we make it back to whence we came, I'll have you wipe the deck 'til it shines.\"\n\n\"...Aye cap'n.\""
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[WP] NASA brodcasts pi (π) to space to prove that we are a smart and intelligent species. After a while, a giant humongous perfect circle disc was hovering over the Earth.Humans were sent in to investigate. What they have found was friendly Type 2 Civilization FTL capable alien species.
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"For millennia they turned their ears to the black silence above. When they invented telescopes, they looked up. When they invented antennae, they listened farther. Spurred by hope that they were not alone, they searched through every corner of the sky for evidence that something, somewhere was alive.\n\n\nWhen they received the transmission, the planet rejoiced. The started immediately, pointing their craft towards a sibling star and a cousin world. They carried with them bits and pieces of their culture and history, ready and willing to share their lives with another life that together they might not be so alone in the vastness of space.\n\n\nThey found the world, known to its inhabitants as Terre, Earth, and countless other names. They watched the small craft approach and brought these beings into their hold. In this flying disc, so many thousands of kilometers above that blue-green orb, alien stood before alien. Separated since the first sentience, the first words were spoken from one world to another, \"We heard you have pi.\""
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[WP] Your dog runs away for a week. He comes back with a note attached to his collar.
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"He ran off at nine, \nHe was gone for an hour. \nHe focused his mind and he summoned the power \n\nTo pick up a pen \nUsing only his paws \nAnd he turned up again with a note at my door: \n\n\"You'll double the walks, \nAnd you'll triple the grub, \nYou'll quadruple the time that my belly gets rubbed.\" \n\nI looked in his eyes, \nAnd he barked in assent, \nIt was painfully, stridently clear what he meant. \n\nI felt rather sick, \nHad I treated him rough? \nSo asked \"have I not ever given enough?\" \n\nIt sullied my spark, \nAnd he noticed my grief, \nSo he let out a woof that said \"turn overleaf!\" \n\nIt said \"you're the best, \nAnd you bring me great joy, \nBut these things I deserve as I'm such a good boy.\" "
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[WP]There are two groups of people. Those who know the elixir of youth and those who think it's a deadly poison.
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"“We've got everything ready now!” yells a young boy to the small group of compatriots gathered with him on the floor of the kitchen. He raises the glass jug off the ground and into the air, its deep red contents sloshing wildly towards the open mouth. “We have our elixir of youth!”\n\nThe boy struggles to pour the jug into the waiting line of cups, trying to give everyone an equal amount for fairness-sake. They would finally get their reward after their long quest for the ingredients. It had taken just the right amount of planning, skill, and luck for this moment to coalesce.\n\nAs the boys circle together and prepare to receive the liquid's blessing, the kitchen's door opens. Into the room comes a tall girl, not much older than the boys. As she looks around, her eyes and mouth grow wider.\n\nThe room had been overturned. Emptied food boxes were thrown into corners. Jugs and bottles from under the sink had been mostly emptied. Judging by the dripping from the walls and ceiling, not all of them had made it into the sink. Medicine bottles of all different shapes and sizes littered the ground, though very little of their previous contents could be seen.\n\nOn surveying the absolute mess that was once a kitchen, the girl snaps sternly to the leader of the boys. “What exactly do you think you're doing in here?” she cries.\n\n“We've made our very own potion of youth. You know, the one where if you drink it while young, you'll never grow old!” The boy replies confidently, raising his glass to touch those of his party.\n\nUnderstanding blossoms in the tall girls eyes, and she starts towards the boys. In a swift motion, the boys finish their toast and each down their cool red tincture.\n\n“How could you do this without me? You know how long I've wanted a youth potion,” the girl stammers, tears welling in her eyes as she reaches the group.\n\n“Don't worry, sis,” says the boy, smiling wide through red-stained lips and gesturing to a small cup on the counter, “We saved you a glass!”\n\n*****\n\n\nHope you like it. Any comments or critiques are welcomed!"
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Based on a corridor digital video.
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[WP] A wizard overdoses on potions. Now his vomit is magic.
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"“Why couldn’t you have been a hero, like your brother?”\n\nPith pushed the nagging voice out of his head. Now is not the time, mom. He wiped the sweat, grime, and fluorescent spittle from his forehead, and tried to focus on the slack-jawed face in front of him.\n\n“C’mon buddy, we need to know what you took.”\n\nThe wizard’s head bobbed side to side, and his tongue almost formed a thought. That was, until his chest lurched up and he belted out another chromatic spew. Pith ducked this one as well, and it painted the canvas wall of the cart, which then quickly burnt away with a green noxious smoke.\n\n“Armor’s bane? Beetle bile?” Pith couldn’t deduce the source, the smell was just one flower in the rotten boquet of toxic tinctures this idiot had taken. It didn’t help that he apparently had mutton for lunch as well.\n\nRennon grabbed the wizards shoulders and tried to hold him to the cot. “This is bad, real bad.”\n\n“Focus, Red, we need to take care of this idiot for his sake and for ours. We could have a real lethal concoction. Could we drive a little softer, please!”\n“You want soft or you want fast?”\n\n“I want a world where every idiot fresh out of magic school doesn’t fancy himself Gristok the Great.”\n\nPith looked out the single hole in the rushing cart, there was sunlight flashing between the tall buildings. They were at least out of center of the city. Probably another twenty minutes provided people made way. The siren bell was ringing, the people just needed to listen. Pith had a feeling they wouldn’t.\n\n“Red, focus!” She wasn’t panicking anymore, in fact she had a slight smirk and was stroking the sickened magician with her thumb. Pith jumped back and sorted through the vials and tinctures in his physician’s case. He grabbed a black atomizer and shot an even blacker plume of smoke into Rennon’s face. She winced and coughed and hacked, which was joined by Pith who had gave himself a dose as well.\n\nPith handed Rennon a mask and put his on. Why would this guy take a charm potion with everything else he had drank? Must’ve been another ‘discount potion’. God damn adventurers couldn’t even make it to the dungeons to die with these dodgy back alley salesmen giving them up whatever they scooped out of the bottom of the cauldron.\n\nPith thought about his brother and the buildings in the village as they burned. He wondered if all these faulty potions were from someone evil or someone lazy. Yea mom, a real hero.\n\n"
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[WP] One day you find glasses which enable you to see all wavelengths of light.
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"It happened by accident, honestly. \n\nIt was Thursday. I was out in the park, walking my dog and minding my screen. A crack in the pavement caused me to trip. I managed to catch myself on my knee, but my glasses went flying into the pavement. I heard the crack of glass and the dread of the situation set in. I didn’t have the money to buy new ones, and my paycheck wasn’t until next wednesday. \n\nA passerby bent over and passed me my glasses. I thanked her and squinted to examine them. The frame looked fine, but the glass was cracked in a most peculiar way. When they shattered, it shattered down the middle of the lens - not vertically nor horizontally, but rather midway through the glass itself, almost separating itself into two identical pieces. I turned them around and noticed that there was a strange colour emanating from the lens. I pulled them closer and put them on. \n\nObjects radiated strange colours I had not seen before. Some more intensely than others. I looked down at my hands and saw that I was emanating a bright yellow light. From my pocket, I could see waves spewing out in every direction - my cell phone? I looked up - the sky was polluted. Gone was the bright, baby blue, replaced by a tempest of angry reds and swirling yellows with dashes of purple and green and colours I had never seen before. \n\nIt dawned on me that I was seeing light - ultraviolet, infrared, gamma rays, the whole spectrum. The glass had splintered in such a way that it filtered them into the visible and made it apparent to my eyes. \n\nI looked around at the people around me - all different colours. What I didn’t realize at the time was that emotions and thoughts can alter the temperature and radiative qualities of different parts of your body. In retrospect, I wished I hadn’t found out. \n\nThe first day was fascinating. Looking around with quite literally a whole new lens on the world, until I noticed patterns. My work colleagues, sat at the bar, emanating a bright yellow as they cracked jokes and enjoyed their. The dark, black-blue hole that was the the man in the corner of the bar, his head in his hands and sipping his beer. The burning red of two young lovebirds, flirting and sharing a drink. \n\nAbsolutely fascinating. \n\nIt was Friday. I woke up to my wife, her bright red figure laying next to mine. I kissed her on the cheek. \n\nI could see my blood go cold as her body darkened and the red began fading. She turned around and smiled at me, what I could only describe as a forced smile. I wouldn’t have noticed before, but with how rapidly her body cooled upon realizing my presence, I did. I was shaken a bit. \n\nGoing to work my brain doted on this. Why? \n\nThat evening we went out. In the restaurant, my wife faded to a neutral black. Her extremities began turning blue. Clued into her unhappiness, I saw what I hadn’t before. Sadness. Glances at her watch. The ground. The crowd. Avoidance. I apologized and excused myself to the bathroom, emotionally pained but putting on the best face I could. When I came out, she was chatting with the waiter, a younger man, and burning red. My light became a flaming red, but certainly not for the same reason. \n\nIt’s Saturday. I just had a massive falling-out with my wife. I accused her of not being committed to our relationship. She burned a bright red and screamed at me until I was a dark blue. I left with my tail between my legs. \n\nIt will be Sunday. I want to take my glasses off. I want to forget what I know. I know I won’t resist the urge. "
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[WP] You're an angry poltergeist, but instead of throwing things, you can only leave passive aggressive notes.
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"Day 1: Perfect house in Philadelphia, old Victorian, Homer told me this would be a good place to haunt for my first day, as it's got that \"eerie\" look about it. Will update soon.\n\nDay 3: New couple moved in, Laura and John. Newlyweds who married at 24, that's cute. Will start leaving notes soon and update.\n\nDay 6: I've left notes in kitchen and laundry room, they're already fighting about communication and integrity. Didn't expect this to happen so fast. Will update soon.\n\nDay 8: Laura left to go to her mother's house for the weekend, John has his \"boys\" over and they're all playing video games. Will cover his bathroom mirror in notes and update soon.\n\nDay 11: John didn't go into the bathroom the entire weekend until Laura came home, making the notes all the more better. They're fighting and just broke 2 vases. Will update soon.\n\nDay 18: John has punched Laura about her \"fucking nagging\" and \"stupid notes\" while she's accused him of the same. She's gone and John is lying on the couch unconscious and drunk. Will update.\n\nDay 23: Laura has been gone for five days now, almost an entire week and John is still drinking. As he was asleep I left a note saying \"Don't call me back, Laura\" and he went and bought rope and a small stool, still no use of them however. Will update.\n\nDay 27: Laura has attempted to come home while John's at work to collect some items, and I left notes to which she with reacted to with breaking his television and various video game consoles. \n\nDay 30: John attempted suicide but failed, leaving him drunk on the ground again. He's been terminated from his job and has spent the remainder of his last check on more alcohol. Will update soon.\n\nDay 34: John successfully hung himself, to which Laura found him and cut him down. She's taken him to the hospital, my notes may not be effective enough.\n\nDay 36: Laura has snuck 35 ounces of laxative into John's prepared food containers for his new work week. Will leave more notes pertaining to this. Will update soon.\n\n_________________________________________ \n\nShould I do more days?"
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Also, pineapples.
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[WP] In a world where everyone has superpowers, your superpower is to have a superpower that's so ridiculously complicated that it's completely pointless to even attempt to explain it, though everyone expects you to try anyways.
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"\"I flip quarks.\" I said, but the glazed look in Merid's eyes said the explanation wasn't enough. It was *never* enough. So I added: \"And that makes things happen.\"\n\n\"But how does it make things happen?\" Merid demanded. \n\nMerid was the curious type it turned out. I set my jaw and let my head fall back against my seat. This was not how I wanted to spend our second date.\n\nIt has been my policy since the Maskless Act took effect to be straightforward with my dates. I have superpowers, yes, and I am on the national registry as a loaded weapon. Sure. But I wasn't gifted with the ability to throw fire, which would be easy to explain and show off. I can't fly, which is arguably the most useful (but I hear satisfying) ability. No, my ability went undetected for most of my life. It was that subtle.\n\nIt wasn't until my late 30s when touring CERN on a business trip that my ability was discovered to begin with, and the scientists there had a better idea of how it worked than anyone else. I was an anomaly, and my presence threw off days of experimentation. Apparently I introduced an element of chaos so strong that all of their data was worthless, and rather than be angry about it (although I recall a grad student throwing a tantrum), the scientists were stunned. I felt like part of the British Invasion back in the 60s, only instead of screaming teen girls, it was physicists shoving microphones and clipboards at me.\n\nI don't even understand the power myself, and despite being classed in the top 1% of most dangerous heroes, I barely know what it is useful for.\n\nWhen I turned to look at Merid, the last of the credits were rolling.\n\n\"I think maybe this date was a bad idea. I mean, you're nice and all, but I am just not feeling it.\" I said. I would let her down hard and fast, end this charade and move on. I had told the matchmaking agency at least ten times that I didn't want to be paired with someone curious. It only lead to problems. Along with a list of foods my dates needed to be able to eat, \n\n\"But you still haven't explained your... your thing, to me.\"\n\nI threw my hands up and sighed in exasperation, drawing a pained look from a couple past the aisle on my right. They looked like the type who waited to check for an after credits scene. I winced. I was being rude.\n\n\"I... can't. I just. If I could show it to you, I would, but it's so small it's imperceptible and most people wouldn't even understand it. The changes are so subtle that I can't even consciously do it. It runs on... a kind of intuition, I guess? It's taken me five years just to keep it from flying out of control, not that most people would have noticed. Words just don't even do it justice. It's too... weird.\"\n\nWhen I stood up, Merid followed in lock step at my heels. She wasn't going to let this go.\n\n\"At least finish the date.\" Merid said, nearly pleading. \"We agreed to get parfaits after the movie, lets at least enjoy the evening, okay?\"\n\nI shoved my hands in my pockets and turned to assess Merid. Something was not right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The situation felt staged. \"Alright, we'll get ice cream, then we go our separate ways.\" I was probably a bit cold toward her, sure, but it's frustrating to deal with a situation like that.\n\nMerid didn't react as if I were cold. That was warning two. \"Awesome. There's this place just down the street.\"\n\nI started walking. Then I waited in line, dodging more questions. I was trapped in an ice cream restaurant full of couples, it was two days from Valentines Day I recalled, and this girl who on the first date seemed alright continued to grill me. It was literally my personal flavor of hell.\n\n\"So if you can flip quarks... does that mean you can make an up-quark into a down-quark?\" Merid asked, between ordering strawberries and chocolate on her parfait.\n\nI narrowed my eyes at the back of Merid's head. How much did this girl know about particle physics?\n\n\"Sort of. I guess. Sometimes, if I try really hard, I can change enough to flip a neutron into a proton.\"\n\n\"That is awesome!\" Merid geeked out at me.\n\nAlright, Merid was definitely a plant. There was no way this girl was real. Either a villain had set this up, or a third party trying to study me had sent her in under cover. No way a blind date from a matchmaking service would pair up that well. As I moved ahead in line, I ordered an old standby--caramel, fudge, and peanuts. I couldn't be bothered to get more creative. I needed to remember the first date.\n\nMerid and I first went to the park, to a showing of a collection of scenes from Shakespeare's comedies, and I remembered her laughing at the right spots. She understood it. When we were getting tacos afterward, she said she was into classic literature. In college, she had focused on humanities. God, what else could I remember? We were playing a game where you list your preferences. What was it that Merid liked, and what was it she despised?\n\nI was so distracted at that moment I ran through on auto-pilot. In the back of my head, I had been dealing with an off-world invasion attempt the entire date.\n\nThen it struck me. I remembered the conversation. Merid had been pretty forthcoming with me.\n\nAs Merid and I sat down with our parfaits at one of those tiny, uncomfortable tables where your knees are required to touch and the feet are never level, I tried to focus on the moment.\n\n\"How much do you know about theoretical physics, Merid? It would be easier to explain if I had an idea what you understand. I don't know if I can explain it very well, but common ground would help.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Merid mumbled, mouth full of chocolate and strawberry. \"As much as anyone else, I guess? I took classes in college?\"\n\nI nodded and ate a scoop of ice cream. \"Alright,\" I paused. \"Basically, if you change enough quarks in a hadron, you can change the kind of hadron it is. Hadrons make up larger matter, so if you can alter enough hadrons, you can change the form matter takes. If you can change enough of given elements within matter, you can change the kind of matter it is.\"\n\n\"That sounds pretty simple.\" Merid said, waving her spoon at me. A bite of pineapple was sticking to the corner of her mouth. I watched it pointedly. \"I don't know why you think it's so hard to explain.\"\n\nI nodded my head in response and waited, watching Merid closely. \"What about you? Have any superpowers you aren't telling me about?\"\n\nMerid smiled coyly. \"None that I talk about on the second date.\"\n\nI laughed. It was a fake laugh. You see, Merid should have been in anaphalactic shock at that point and yet, Merid was flirting and smiling at me. Clearly, this wasn't Merid. Not exactly.\n\n\"Oh no, Merid, I didn't even realize...\" I feigned shock and fear. \"Are you okay?\" I pointed down at her parfait. \"Aren't you allergic to pineapple? That's what you said on our last date.\"\n\nMerid's eyes went wide and she looked down at her parfait, a half-eaten mass of vanilla ice cream, pineapple, and bananas.\n\n\"I don't remember ordering...\" Merid frowned. Her spoon fell into the bowl. \"How long have you known?\"\n\n\"A little while now. This is tacky, by the way. Abducting my date or whatever you did, and trying to get the details of my power out of me. Really tacky.\"\n\nNot-Merid pushed herself back from the table, looking somewhat despondent. \"You're in our way. We had suspicions someone like you might exist when we tried to run a second iteration on our attack. Something was blocking our ability to start from the beginning.\" she said.\n\nI nodded my head and took another bite of my dessert. Our last date was four days prior, on a Saturday. The invasion force was repelled by midnight. The gov told everyone playing defense to relax until another threat showed itself. Apparently the threat found me first.\n\n\"What have you done with Merid?\" I asked.\n\nNot-Merid smirked. \"Nobody will miss this woman. She has no family, no real friends, no hobbies. We did our research. This was her body, but we have assumed control and eliminated her weakness. Now, to something more important. We want you to join us. With our technology and your ability, we could strangle this galaxy within a decade. Total control.\"\n\n\"Hah. Not likely.\" I said. \"This isn't the outcome I want from the situation and there is nothing you can offer me that will convince me to assist you.\"\n\nNot-Merid frowned. \"We do not see where what you want from the situation matters. You've already become trapped.\"\n\n\"You think so?\" I asked.\n\nI already knew that in high orbit, a hidden warship was aimed at our position. I could feel it like eyes staring at you from across the room. \"Thing is, I don't really flip quarks like... *When* I want to flip them, I flip them *before* I want to flip them. So in a way, I never actually flip them. Things just kind of *change*.\"\n\nIn that moment, I made up my mind. I didn't like things as they were, so they would need to change. Across from me, Not-Merid changed state, flickering, while in orbit, a warship changed state, breaking into a gas cloud. I couldn't explain how it happened, just that it happened. If I thought too hard about it, I would give myself a headache.\n\n\"I still don't get it.\" Merid said, digging into her chocolate and strawberry parfait. \"I mean, quarks are so... tiny, right? I just.\" She sighed in frustration. \"You know what, don't worry about it.\" She waved her spoon in the air. \"What kind of music are you into?\"\n\nI let myself smile a little and took another bite of my sundae. \"I'm fond of blues music.\"\n\nMerid's smile brightened around her spoon. \"Me too! Mississippi Delta, or more like popular blues?\"\n\n\"Whatever feels good, you know?\" I said. \"I just try to roll with it.\"\n\nMerid bobbed her head. \"I totally get that. Just have to take things as they come. Life's too complicated to spend all your time thinking about it. Just have to get out there and do it.\"\n\nYes. Yes you do."
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[WP] Who won?
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"\"Captain! Captain, are you there?\" Eron stepped carefully as the others followed, each mindful of the blood and gore which soaked the ground. About the outpost, hundreds of green corpses lay in scattered conditions, some with arrows protruding chests and limbs, others with gashes or wounds, and others still with no visible explanation beyond horrid exit wounds that suggested a terrible blow of abnormal means. \"Captain?\" Eron called out again, stepping overtop the largest of the bodies, warily eyeing the half bared, half-missing, skull in the open air of the base's courtyard.\n\nA terrible battle had taken place here. The walls had been scaled, the gates had been broken, and up ahead in the outpost's main building, Eron cloud clearly count dozens of ropes and grappling lines dangling haphazardly as the wind strummed along. What was once a rustic but functional hold, had been reduced to the equivalent of some abandoned ruin. No window was left unbroken, and no wooden entryway had been passed over without violence. Behind him, Eron heard another's voice whisper their disbelief.\n\n\"Are you all seeing this shit?\" A man dressed in foreign garb stepped through the blood and muck with high-boots, indifferent to the carnage underfoot. \"First Ghouls, now Goblins- Hey, are these things going to come back as *Goblin-Ghouls* you think?\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous Rob.\" Beside Eron, a woman's voice hiss. \"We'll burn them long before that can happen, now stay quiet- there might still be more alive somewhere.\"\n\n\"Somehow I seriously doubt that.\" The foreign man continued, using his left boot to kick over a rather mutilated looking corpse. Eron turned and watched as the man's grimace matched the dead goblin's own for the briefest of seconds. \"This one was shot with a rifle, I think.\" Pausing, the man crouched down. \"Yeah, this unlucky bastard was dead before he hit the ground.\"\n\n\"Rob, I'm not kidding.\" Beside him, a woman in dark robes pivoted to survey their surroundings with palms raised in a practiced stance. \"If you can't be quiet- go back and wait with Joe in the car.\" She nodded in Eron's direction. \"Eron and I can deal with this alone.\"\n\n\"Listen, Sandra, I really think you need to relax a bit. You see all these dead-folks here? I mean, honestly there's nothing left alive f-*AH!*\" The confident statement ended as a burst of flame erupted from the woman's hands, engulfing the nearest corpse with a wave of blue fire. \"Holy Shit! Sandra! You crazy bitch!\"\n\n\"Sorry, I thought it moved.\" Sandra replied with a smirk. \"Apologies.\"\n\n\"Quiet, both of you. We must remain alert. However small, there is still a chance of ambush.\" Eron turned back to the main building, shaking his head with a faint expression of disappointment. Raising his hands, he breathed in deep, clearing his mind as the embers of flames rose up along the skin of his palms: prepared to cast on the slightest of notice. \"I'm going to need to go inside. Sandra, I'll need your assistance.\"\n\n\"And me?\" Behind him, Rob's voice questioned. \"What should I do?\"\n\n\"Wait.\" Eron replied sternly.\n\n\"From a safe distance.\" Sandra added. \"It would be a *terrible* shame if you *happened* to get caught up in one of our castings.\"\n\n\"Your partner in crime has some serious issue Eron, I hope you're aware.\"\n\n\"We all have problems, Rob.\" Eron replied. \"Now stay here, and stay alert. We'll be back.\" He said, as he stepped through the hold's stone doorway, flames in his hand surging to life like torches as he illuminated the first floor of the outpost.\n\n\"Fine. I'll keep an eye out.\" Rob's distant reply was muffled as it arrived, Eron glancing towards the source of mana to catch view of Sandra casting on the threshold: blurring the air with a weak barrier.\n\n\"Just in case he doesn't listen.\" She stated, fires flaring up in her own hands with a flourish of blue and orange. \"Or if something tries to escape.\"\n\n\"Ah, of course.\" Surveying the outpost hall, Eron found the second reason Sandra provided seemed far less likely than the first. It was much the same as outside, Goblins corpses scatted about in heaps and droves, blood slick or drying on the walls and floor. Coatings of shit and piss and gore and awful stenches that pulled Eron's mind quickly back along memories of the Western lands, but unlike the courtyard outside, there was one major difference.\n\nThis time, Eron could see that Human soldiers also lay among the dead. Several of them, in fact. From lower ranks, to the clear mark of Royal service on tarnished armor. There had been a brutal fight here. \n\n\"Once the front gate to the building had been breached, it seems they chose to thin the numbers.\" Sandra spoke from the far side of the large room, motioning towards the stairs. \"Looks like they fought, then retreated up to the second floor.\" Under the light from her hands, broken furniture, ropes and shields lay shattered, splintered and burned along the rising staircase. At the foot of the last step, dozens of Goblins were piled in a rough heap, many filled with enough arrows to seem gruesome variations of pincushions.\n\n\"Then we must go.\" Eron stated, marching calmly past to take the lead. \"To the second floor.\" Sandra nodded with relative optimism, following after himwith careful steps. Still, Eron's own hopes soon faded. The further they went, the worse the damage became. Carefully stepping aside what may have once been bunks or tables, sawed and chopped away for a passage through and over, he noted the weapons still wedged or impaled along the ruined wooden barricades. Axes, daggers, spears, swords- any number of arrows. It seemed this had been a hotspot of activity, and the number of green-skinned corpses scattered about it seemed to support that assumption, but again: several more humans lay dead. As Eron turned the bend to reach the second floor, his breath hissed with displeasure. Goblins, humans: The entire building might as well have belonged to a plane of the damned.\n\n\"I don't see the Elf, Eron.\" Sandra passed him by, walking into the room with disinterest to the expressions of pain and agony frozen in horror along the floor. Her hand seized unseen tethers, pulling to drag a pile of bodies into a toppled sprawl as she looked them over. \"I said it once, I'll say it again. If the Captain dies before that shovel-swinging git, I'll eat my robes. No Elf means no Captain.\"\n\nShe was right, Eron realized. Several knights, almost a dozen common soldiers- likely the unfortunate souls stationed here by coincidence, but no Elf. To the far side of the room, past the corpses, the broken bunks, the shattered shields and imbedded arrows, Eron's eyes found another passageway.\n\n\"One more floor.\" He said, nodding to Sandra as he made his way over with a wary eye to the shattered windows, and gruesome splatterings of crimson. This was not the kind of battle that happened overnight. Gaunt faces, broken weapons, goblins laying dead- filled with their own arrows presumably picked up and shot back at them. This was without a shred of doubt, a long and drawn-out stall: a bitter resistance in hope of reinforcements that never came.\n\n\"This must be the tower.\" Sandra said, as they began their ascent on the wide stairs past the doorway. Immediately light summoned on a gentle press of mana, Eron's eyes widened at another three human soldiers not two steps from the threshold: each brought to a brutal ended by mix of spears and daggers. They had not gone down easily, for one of was still violently clutching the strangled corpse of an unfortunate goblin by means of a brutal death-grip. Peering closer, Eron could see that it's face was a dark purple, eyes bulging wide enough to prompt a hiss of disgust from Sandra as they finally passed the scene by, continuing up the spiraling steps.\n\nAs they moved on, passing along more bodies of the dead from both sides, Eron's stomach churned at the silence. Only the howl of wind seemed to reach his ears now, no words or conversation- no gnarled goblins barks or human shouts. Everything that had come to pass, was already long finished. Stopping at the final steps, Eron turned to Sandra once more at the thick wooden door that stood firmly shut, weapons and splinters sticking free of its frame. \n\n\"Captain?\" Eron spoke the name aloud as a question, listening for any sound beyond the door, but none came. With a nod to his companion, he raised his hands, summoning the flames to burn it away to cinders. \"Captain, are you there?\" He asked again, stepping forward into the gusts of air and smoke.\n\n----\n\n----\n\n**This story is a continuation of a bunch of other writing-prompts!**\n\n[Start here!](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/51f8ag/wp_youre_such_a_powerful_magician_that_life_is/d7bn3g2/)\n\n[Previous](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ybk2g/wp_the_best_swordsman_in_the_world_need_not_fear/dep046y/)\n\n[Next](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5z28zp/wp_no_one_can_imagine_the_pain_i_felt_when_those/deutq31/)\n\n"
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[WP]There are many gods and beings nobody has ever heard of lost in time and there are no myths about them. Write A Myth about them.
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"(Bearing in mind, this is from my phone) \n\nFrom the God of war, to the God of the sky, i've always assumed these Gods to be the epicentre of humanity; from primitive beginnings to an unexpected awakening... but they forgot about me. I've always been there to show them the path, but I'm too slow; it's little to wonder why, humanity has always been too fast for me. I hope to be a reminder that there is always time, that each second isn't wasted, and that ambition without time is truly dangerous. The teachings of early civilisation had regarded me in high praise, I was a visionary of power. Perhaps i'm no longer required. I remember the authority that I would bring, armies had trembled at my might, advances in technology, I was behind it all. I assisted Alexander \"the great\" to conquer the middle east and beyond, I had even helped Rome in conquering Europe, but abandon me and you will suffer the consequences; not that it was my fault, but ask of Nepoleon when he tried to storm the gates of Russia in the winter, or even the simplest of men who disapear when they too abandon me. I'm often the catalyst for success yet people are too blind to accept that I too am important... I'm the God of patience. I hope one day you'll find me. \n\nEdit: word.",
"*The Void.*\n\nIn the never-ending darkness, a long serpentine creature glided silently through the void. A creature of unimaginable size and power. The one known as Carzi. \n\nThe creature was adorned in shimmering scales. Its deep blue eyes burned fiercely. Its long body ended in a plume of feathers. Towards the front of its body were two short arms - short only relative to its body length, for they could easily span across entire galaxies. But there were no such things as galaxies yet, nor could anyone witness this magnificent creature in the cold darkness of The Void. \n\nAs it moved through the darkness, Carzi saw a pulsing light, shining bright. As Carzi moved towards the light, it grew steadily and then shrunk. When the creature looked closely, it could see that it was not one, but two spheres of light. The spheres would grow, and then collapse onto each other in a blinding flash. \n\nThis rhythmic process of creation and destruction continued a couple thousand times as Carzi circled around the two spheres. Finally, Carzi decided to intervene. It shrunk its body as it neared the two spheres just as they were going to collide into each other. Right after the collision, Carzi placed itself at the epicenter of the explosion, between the two spheres as they reformed from the residual energy of the blast. \n\nAs the spheres began to grow once more, Carzi expanded its body to match their size. It twisted and turned its body to form the shape of a lemniscate - the symbol of infinity, each sphere trapped in one of the lobes of the lemniscate. Carzi grew with the universes, keeping them apart to prevent their mutual destruction. Carzi kept slithering - maintaining its shape as it did so - like a snake trying to catch its own tail. \n\nThe two spheres would continue to grow to one day become universes with billions of trillions of stars and galaxies - one made of what we call matter and the other of anti-matter. In the beginning, as Carzi's tail passed through the spheres, it would disturb the uniformly distributed matter and anti-matter just enough for them to coagulate in those regions, eventually forming stars. As time passed, Carzi would feed on the old, dying stars - removing them completely, exposing portions of the original Void - what we call Black Holes. \n\nThis is the story of our universe, up until the present. What will happen next? Will Carzi consume all the stars until all that is left is the void? Or will the creature finally decide to move on? - destroying both universes - only for them to be reborn again and stuck in their eternal cycle of life and death, just as they were billions of years in the past. \n\nOnly time will tell.\n",
"Tyanki has been forgotten.\n\nTyanki never begged for worship. She never wanted followers, never took disciples.\n\n---------------------\n\nThere was once a wise old man and a curious young boy. They lived in the woods, by a river.\n\nThe boy asked, \"Where does the river's water come from?\"\n\nThe man replied, \"High up in the mountains, far to the north, where tributaries branch off and nestle between the rocks.\"\n\n\"So where do the mountains get their water?\"\n\n\"Rain.\"\n\n\"Where does the rain get its water?\"\n\n\"Tyanki.\"\n\nOne day the man and the boy followed the river to the sea, where they built a raft.\n\nThe boy asked, \"Why does the wood float?\"\n\n\"Because it is lighter that the water that would take its place.\"\n\n\"Why must light things float?\"\n\nThe man paused for a moment, and went back to tying the raft. \"Tyanki.\"\n\nThe boy, annoyed by this answer, asked another question. \"What makes the tides turn?\"\n\n\"The tides turn in line with the moon. When it is just overhead or nowhere to be seen, the tide is high. When the moon touches the world, the tide is low.\"\n\n\"Yes, but *why* do the tides turn with the moon?\"\n\nThe old man smiled. \"Tyanki.\"\n\nTo the man, Tyanki was the bedrock of the world's workings. Dig far enough, and you will find her. Digging further is hard and fruitless.\n\nTo the boy, Tyanki was a poor answer.\n\nYears passed, and the man died of old age, and the boy was alone. He found the answers to his own questions; watched clouds and storms build and found that the rains were fed by the sea and sun; watched fruit fall and found that all matter pulls on all matter with even strength; charted the sea and sky and found that the moon was unfathomably distant and pulled on the sea with its mass.\n\nAnd, for all his learning, the boy yet lived by a river in the woods.\n\nTyanki was gone, and nothing had changed.\n\nThat was okay.\n\nTyanki never begged for worship. She never wanted followers, never took disciples.\n\nTyanki has been forgotten, and she is happy.\n\n-----------------------------------------------\n\n*Tyanki, the God of Answers Unknown and Unneeded*"
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[WP] Write a road trip story from three perspectives. The driver, the hitchhiker, and the person tied up in the trunk.
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"Driver - Jack\n ----------------------------------------------\nI blinked, taking a left onto Albury Lane. I felt horrible, having to tie up one of my best friends- and admittedly my crush- in the trunk. But it was for his own good, after all, I couldn't fit him in the back. I knew he'd be angry with me, but that was for the best. He was fading in and out of consciousness and I had done my best to cover up the wounds, so I took it painstakingly slow.\n\nThough, on the lane, I saw someone through the darkness and a face I recognized. About a yard and a half away I started to slowly stop the car, so not to disturb Dennis and make him even angrier. \"Hi Leon,\" I said, stopping to a halt about 5 feet away from him. Leon was a blonde dude with blue eyes and freckles all over his nose and cheeks. He always wore a grin and was of a normal weight. From the way he looked towards me and grinned, I knew exactly why he was standing there hopelessly. \"Get in the car.\" I mumbled. Leon was always like this, I didn't know what else to expect from him.\n\n\"Thanks, Jack.\" I heard him say, with a bubbly tone in his voice. He stumbled over and opened the door to the seat right next to me and climbed in. I heard him shut the door lazily and groggily put his seat belt on, so I continued driving. \"So, uh... how are you?\" I asked, wanting to keep the conversation subtle. I didn't like having to go into a full conversation with someone like him so soon. \n\"Oh, I'm fine,\" Leon said, grinning. \"How about Dennis?\"\nI swear he could feel me break out into a cold sweat. \"Dennis, well uh... he's uhm.. not doing too well.\" \n\"Really?\" Leon asked. \"How so?\"\n\"Uh, well... he almost died. Don't ask me how, I don't know. All I know is that there are slash wounds, stab wounds and other things all over him so I had to cover them up. I'm taking him to the hospital.\" I silently prayed his dumb ass wouldn't ask where he was, because at this stage he probably would've forgotten Dennis would never fit in the back laying down. He was so damn lanky.\n\nLeon stayed quiet for a bit before saying, \"Hey, Dennis! How'd you nearly die?\" Leon waited for an answer and was quite angry when he never got one. We were about a mile away from the hospital. I just hoped then I would be able to explain it to him to make it sound like I didn't do anything. He hiccuped. \"Where's Dennis?\"\n\"He's asleep,\" I lied. Well... he probably was. \"Let him rest, okay?\" My teeth gritted. Just a quarter mile left. \"When we get to the hospital, you stay here, unless you think you got a bit too...\" \n\"I'm fine.\" Leon blinked, looking at the open road ahead of them. He rubbed at his eyes. \"You know, it's getting late.\" \n\"It is,\" I responded. Soon enough, I could hear him snoring. I finally relaxed.\n -----------------------------\nHitchhiker - Leon\n -----------------------------\nI walked helplessly on the road, hiccing. I had a bit too much to drink, but I was sadly used to not being able to drive back home once going to a bar. But in the distance, I saw headlights. I hicced again and nearly toppled over, blinking as it slowly came to a stop. I heard the noise of a window being rolled down. The image was distorted in my head, but I could make out the somewhat high-pitched yet smooth and French accented voice of Jack, one of the people willing to put up with me when I was like this, other than Dennis and Sarah. He was a good friend, I guess. I always knew he had a thing for Dennis, though, that was obvious.\n\n\"Get in the car,\" he had said. I blundered over and got in, blinking at him while mouthing words of thanks. The dyed blue hair with the combination of his pale skin and green eyes was... something, alright. Not really my style, but Dennis had always enjoyed weird things. I looked down. Of course, his usual getup of a plaid black and red vest with a white undershirt was there. I looked down at my greyish shirt and blue jeans, then at his. But his were skinnier. I silently cursed myself for drinking so much.\n\n\"So, how are you?\" He broke the silence. \n\"Fine, just fine,\" I said, grinning. I looked out the windshield and hiccuped slightly. \"How about Dennis?\" I noticed him break into a cold sweat, but made nothing of it. He just always got worried when someone asked him about his 'boyfriend'. \n\"Admittedly, Dennis isn't doing too well.\" There were noises of uncertainty in his voice. I frowned. I didn't like that. Jack usually had a commanding aura about him, even though he was much too used to taking orders from others.\n\"Well, uh... he nearly died.\" That's all I heard before I zoned out for a few moments. Confused, I said: \"Hey Dennis, how'd you nearly die?\" I got no answer. I was disappointed. \"Where's Dennis?\" I grumbled.\n\"He's asleep,\" Jack said, nervously shaking. He seemed to not notice. \"Leave him alone.\"\nI knew he was lying but didn't bother caring. I silently zoned out again. \"You know, if you feel a bit-\" \n\"I'm fine.\" With that, I fell asleep.\n --------------------------------\nGuy Tied up in the Trunk - Dennis\n --------------------------------\nI knew where I was; and I was angry about it. I wanted to kick, I wanted to scream Jack's name to let me out of here. But somewhere in my mind, I knew it wasn't a good idea, and besides, he only wanted to help. I silently cursed him for having such a small car. I could barely breathe in here. But it'd be enough to keep be going for a few more hours- and from what I had endured of the ride so far, we couldn't be that far from the hospital. \n\nI didn't remember much of what happened, all I could think about was the agony. He had covered up the wounds, sure, but not as well as he could've. He was in a panic, something about me didn't want to blame him. His frantic face looked kind of cute, anyway. It was only then I noticed we had slowed down, silently rolling onto my back. This was a more comfortable position to be in. I drew in a breath of relief, blinking. I heard the car door opening. Maybe he was leaving, maybe he was there. Then I heard a voice- a bubbly and drunken voice. Of all the people... I grumbled under my breath angrily. \n\nI heard some talking, Jack's frantic voice clear in my head as he started to gain speed again, slowly and taking care to avoid any bumps. I faded into sleep for a moment before forcing myself to wake up, I had to stay awake. I couldn't afford to sleep in somewhere with limited air. I silently willed them to talk louder to keep me awake. I didn't want large breaths to be had, not now. It wasn't an option anymore. I faintly heard my name. Something in me wanted to answer, before I realized it was Leon speaking.\n\nI heard my name again, recognizing Jack's voice. Something about it was so smooth and calming to me. He said something about sleep. Did I need sleep? We were nearly there anyway. I heard Leon's snoring, and Jack's finally relaxed voice saying 'here we go, dennis... we're almost there...' I smiled. I feel like I'd have the right to yell at him later. Wouldn't I? I would. Something about my head frowned at the idea, though. He just wanted to help.\n\nSo I finally started relaxing, and without knowing, I fell asleep.",
"**Jerry**\n\nI walked down the road, sweat dripping down my forehead, stinging my eyes. I wanted to wipe it away, but the sand stuck to my arms would surely make things worse. So I just walked on, down a road that stretched forever, in a heat that grew hotter every moment. I had half a bottle of water left, and I knew I wasn't going to last long if someone didn't come by soon. I could only hope that someone would eventually drive by. \n\nAnd just like that, a car approached. I stuck my thumb out to the side, praying they would stop. I was genuinely surprised when they did.\n\n\"Way too hot to leave you on the side of the road like this,\" the man said, as I heard the doors unlock. \n\n\"Thank you so much,\" I said. \"I've been out here for far too long. I just need a ride to the next town.\" \n\nThe man nodded and motioned me into the car, and I sank into the hot leather seat. The cold air coming from the vents was a godsend; and he even offered me a bottle of water. I had finally caught a break, after everything went so wrong the last few days. \n\n\"So whats your name?\" The driver asked. \"I'm Steve.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Steve,\" I replied. \"I'm Jerry.\" \n\n\"Whats your story, Jerry? What are you doing wandering around in the desert?\"\n\n\"Well, its kind of a long story. But I guess it started a few days ago when--\"\n\n*THUD*. \n\n\"--what the hell was that?\" I turned and looked to the back seat, half expecting to find someone there. With another *thud*, the seat folded down, and a man came rolling out, hands tied behind his back, and a bag over his head.\n\n\"What the fuck--\" I yelled, as the man kicked the back of the driver's seat, causing Steve to jerk the wheel to the side. The man fell to the floorboards, and the car flew off the road. Steve's head hit the window during the jerk, knocking him out; and the car was speeding towards a boulder. \n\nI had no time to react before the car crashed, sending me through the windshield. \n\n------\n\n**Steve**\n\n\"Just get it done, Steve,\" an angry voice rattled through the payphone receiver. \n\n\"Whatever you say, boss.\" I slammed the phone down, and stepped out of the phone booth. With this heat, it was like an oven in that thing. I could already feel my skin tightening from the sunburn. I glanced around, seeing no traffic in either direction. The diner behind me looked like it had been closed for years; its a small wonder the payphone still worked. I walked back to the car, and popped open the trunk. \n\nI pulled the bag off of the man's face, and splashed some water on his face. He woke up and started struggling, his hands and feet tied. \n\n\"Oh, stop that,\" I instructed him. \"You aren't going anywhere. Just drink some water, I cant have you dying on me before we get there.\" \n\nI ripped the tape off of his mouth, and placed the water bottle to his lips. He drank it eagerly, and after about half the bottle, I took it back. \n\n\"Please, let me go,\" he pleaded. I taped his mouth shut, replaced the bag on his head, and continued on the road. I hated these long trips.\n\nThe radio in the car was broken, so I found myself nearly dozing off. Luckily, after about twenty miles, I came across a hitchhiker. I knew it was risky, but I was desperate for some kind of interaction; and if he found out, I'd just kill him. \n\nThe next thing I knew, my head was pounding, and I was laying in the hot sand, watching vultures circle in the sky above me. I tried to sit up, but a pain shot through my ribs and stomach. *What the hell happened*?\n\nI turned my head to the left, and saw my car, crashed into a massive boulder. The hitchhiker I picked up was lying on the boulder, bits of glass sticking out of his head. His blood was staining the sand.\n\nSomething moved to my right. My neck hurt as I twisted my head from one side to the other, and I let out a whimper. \n\n\"Finally awake, are we?\" a voice called out. After a moment, the man stepped into my field of vision, kneeling at my side. \n\n\"You sure are in bad shape,\" he said, shaking his head. \"But at least you were wearing your seat belt. If it wasnt for that, I might not be able to have this little conversation with you.\" \n\nI tried to sit up again, but this time the pain was so great I yelled out in agony. \"What is going on?\" I asked, shaking.\n\n\"I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind.\" he was remarkably calm, for a guy that had just been stuffed in a trunk for several hours. \n\n\"Why did you take me?\" he asked.\n\n\"I... I was told...\" I coughed. Every word felt like needles in my throat.\n\n\"Told *what*?\" he was getting angry.\n\n\"...told to take you. I... dont ask questions.\" The world started spinning around me. \"I... dont think I'm going to... make...\" I coughed again, spewing blood into the sand. \n\n\"Useless,\" the man said under his breath, as he stood and turned away. \n\n\"Please,\" I pleaded, as the world went dark. \n\n-----\n\n**Brian**\n\n\"Useless,\" I said, turning to walk away. The man seemed to mutter something as he died, but I had no interest in what he had to say. \n\nI looked down at the small black book I had taken from his pocket. I knew there had to be some kind of information in it; who this man was, who he worked for. If I could find out who ordered him to take me, I would find out why. So I walked back to the road, hoping to be picked up by a passerby.\n\nI walked for miles, covered in sand, and sweating like never before. I had only taken a few bottles of water with me from the car; I didn't think it was going to take this long to find someone to pick me up. \n\nFinally, just as I was ready to give up hope, I saw a car approaching. It stopped next to me, and the driver leaned over to open the passenger door. \n\n\"You look like you could use a ride,\" he said, his voice low and comforting. \"Here, have some water.\" He handed me a half-full bottle.\n\n\"You have no idea,\" I said, eagerly grabbing the bottle. I sat down in the car, and let out a long, deep exhale. I could finally relax.\n\n\"So, where you headed, Brian?\" the man asked. \n\n\"First town is fine. I just need...\" A shiver went down my spine. \"How do you know my name?\"\n\nHe stared at the road in silence, a crooked smile on his face. \n\n\"You didn't think I'd trust Steve to get the job done on his own, did you?\" \n\n\"Why me?\" I asked, defeated.\n\n\"Because you looked like you'd put up a fight.\" He said, in a chillingly calm tone. \n\n\"A fight?\" I felt myself getting tired. \"The water... something... in it...\" I felt myself drifting into sleep.\n\n\"Yeah, I like a challenge from time to time. Now relax,\" the man said, finally glancing in my direction. His crooked smile sent a chill throughout my body. \n\n\"We're going to have some fun when we get home,\" He said, as I drifted into a deep slumber.\n\n\n"
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[WP] In your mailbox every night, insects of all kind perform a Satanic ritual. One night, you come home late from a party and remember that you forgot to take out today's mail.
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"\"Thanks guys! See you later, thanks for the ride back!\" I slurred. I was most definitely drunk, and not fully prepared for what was ahead. What happened due to these creatures, however small they were, should not have been classified as a small occurrence by whatever Orkin \"professional exterminator\" the landlord sent out.\n I got home that night not expecting anything besides a massive head- and stomach-ache. A microwave meal and scrolling through the front page of the internet could temporarily drag my head away from the physical pains of my body. I would have empathized with the physical pain bugs went through more if I had been warned of the rage built up over centuries of abuse by humans. Bugs had never freaked ME out—if anything I was glad for their company. The interesting ones filled many a day of my childhood growing up in a farmhouse. I would gaze at and admire their glistening shells, segmented bodies, and general makeup. These physical features are what defined \"bugs\" to me, not so much as their consciousness or inner thoughts. \n\"Shit! Forgot the mail again!\" I murmured, being only partially-aware of my surroundings. \"Can't keep forgetting it, that acceptance letter must be coming any day now... right?\" I questioned. Slipping on a light hoodie and Crocs, I raced out to what I expected to be more bills, but turned into a night full of lost sleep and reconsideration of life. Opening the rusting, creaky mailbox resulted in a lackluster if not unusual bustle of unwrapped papers. Pulling out the wreckage, I was immediately intrigued by what was behind them. The bugs stood there, with no change in activity. They didn't scatter, they didn't make a beeline (punny) for the door, they weren't trapped in the first place. There, scuttling before me, was an assortment of vertebrae and insects of varying size, species, and condition. About a third of the bunch were split open, surrounded by smeared bluish-green insect blood. Turning on the flashlight on my phone to get a better look, the remaining creatures finally turned towards me. Their shining, beady, non-uniform eyes reflected the LED light all too well.\n I wouldn't say I could understand the form of communication they took, but when they joined into a circle around the insect-sacrifices of the 50 or so total bugs, it was apparent that some sort of ritual was taking place. They rotated in unison and hummed together in a feint, fickle, and genuinely terrifying fashion. These insects were set on accomplishing something by this act, and my mail had something to do with it. Why not stick to the woods, where a larger and more extravagant killing could take place? I had my suspicions, one being that they stood to pay back my debt to the IRS by sacrifice after seeing my mail, but turns out they just wanted to raise awareness for PETA. Insects should have equal rights with other animals, and even humans right? These bugs didn't want to end up in our Snickers Bars and McDonalds anymore. They deserve equality.\n I will never feel sorry for all of the junk food I have eaten in my lifetime that may have contained insects, but I can sure as hell be grossed out by it. They drove me to be healthier, which I can thank them for, but they also drove me completely insane.\n\nI am BugMan. I speak for the bugs of this earth, and they are not happy."
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[WP] You're a minor enemy in a video game. The protagonist reaches your level and is taking out colleagues around you, but misses you before moving on.
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"I visited the Butcher's after the Mountain Hall fell. The king had been slain by a Paladin of the highest rank, leaving a stench that rivalled the backside of an Ork Warboss. Gobsmacka was in \"surjery,\" so I looked around for other gobbo guards. Matz, Knivz and Teeni were all that was left of the few goblins I knew. \n\n\nOnce punted around, my goblin comrades once were the toys of bigger, stronger orks. But with the fall of the west mountain, there was a severe shortage of goblins that weren't scared senseless of anything taller than a dwarf. \n\n\nI saw as one of the medik's strolled around whistling a tune. Spotting me, he gave a wave over. \"Ca'mere gobbo! Butcha's open today.\"\n\n\nFinding my way through the orcs, most of them were unconscious, breathing with the snotty sound of death. Limbs were missing from most of them. Asking about the west mountain, the medik pointed to a room full of fresh corpses. \"Yoo 'ungry? Take sumfin from ova dere.\" Giving a snicker, we walked over to the end of the room.\n\n\n\"Dis one is a weird un.\" He was small, and even smaller stubs punctuated at his shoulders. The medik revealed his lower torso had also had work on it, both of his legs missing below the knee. \"Dok had a snack. Hehe.\"\n\n\nThe patch on his arm marked him as a Lieutenant Goblin from the West Mountain. Even if he lived, he would have to be challenged before someone could take his place. Looking down at him, his eyes were closed, pained from something long lost. His ragged breath came and went quickly, his chest rising not more than an inch.\n\n\nEyeing the medik, I colored his throat a deep scarlet. The blood didn't splatter far, only covering the cot he lay upon. The medik gave a hearty laugh, slapping me on the back. Damned if I was going to be a runt again."
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[WP] The year is 1969. Aliens are headed to Mars to look for humans, but make a stop on the moon to have a picnic. Apollo 11 lands, and we don't know who is more confused.
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"One lovely Sunday afternoon in the pitch black Moon.\n\nA team of three young earthly astronauts land a strange object. Everything around them is in the most secretly loud silence.\n\nTwo days go by and finally two of them get out of the ship. They set foot on the moon in a innocuous fashion with some strange and cumbersome suit.\n\nThey seem like children going to paradise land made of chocolate and candy's.\n\nUnbeknownst to them, right beyond the ship in a hidden place there's a flying sauce type of ship with some alien looking creatures next to it.\n\nThese green fellas are sniffing some strange smoke and appear to be high.\n\nIn what looks to be a decisive moment to the humans presented on this strange and inhospitable place, the alien's look at them from far and being high as they are they start to trip.\n\nThe aliens suddenly wake up from the trip to find themselves attached to beds in what looks to be a medical facility.\n\nThe doctor after checking them out goes out by the door, and when this door slams we can see the room name.\n\n \"Lab 45 - Area 51\"",
"\"One small step for a man, one giant leap for - what the - Houston, we have a problem.\"\n\n\"What seems to be the problem?\"\n\n\"There's aliens here. Honest to god, aliens.\"\nThe aliens looked at the astronauts and asked, \"are you humans?\" The astronauts responded: \"Yes, we're humans.\" The aliens then said, \"Awesome. We have traveled for twenty thousand years in search of humans. Can we follow you back to Mars?\"\n\n\"Mars? Look at this thing, Neil, it thinks we live on Mars.\"\n\n\"I know. I heard it.\" The astronauts were confused. Why did the aliens think they lived on Mars? Had humans lived on Mars thousands of years ago? That seemed impossible. Mars was a barren wasteland. There was nothing on Mars but dust and rock. The astronauts were confused why they had to explain this to these aliens, when the aliens clearly knew enough about humans to learn their languages.\n\n\"Humans live on Earth. Not Mars.\" Neil Armstrong explained.\n\n\"How is that possible?\" The aliens asked. \"Earth is nothing but dust and rock. It's a barren wasteland. Mars is where it's at. They've got water, soil, trees, everything. We want to go to Mars. Don't try to trick us into going to Earth.\"\n\n\"I think you've got Earth and Mars confused,\" the astronauts tried to explain. \"Earth is the one with the water and the trees and all of that stuff, and Mars is the one that's a barren wasteland. Mars is nothing. Earth has it all.\"\n\n\"Stop this treachery, we already told you, we will have none of it. Take us back to Mars.\"\n\n\"Houston, we have another problem. The aliens think we're from Mars and want us to go there. I don't think there's any way to tell them that we're not going to Mars. They won't go to Earth with us because they think we're trying to trick them.\"\n\n\"Then why don't you go back to Earth by yourselves?\"\n\nSo they did. And they told the aliens that they were going to Earth. So the aliens went to Mars.",
"Garbabah had barely finished arranging his cutlery on the unfurled picnic mat when Merigold crested over the hill, screaming bloody murder as she scurried on flailing tentacles.\n\n\"Merigoldbah!\" he said, intentionally using the traditional naming convention instead of the hipster pronunciation the upstart preferred. Garbabah was, in many ways, a stickler for the old ways. \"Just in time for tea!\"\n\n\"Garbabah! They're here, they're here!\"\n\n\"Crap,\" muttered Garbabah under his breath, his tentacles already instinctively pulling the treats closer to him. \"Tell Team Beta we're not sharing! This ain't the first time they've come to leech off us! Buggers, all of them, selfish, brutish lot...\"\n\n\"Sir! It's not Team Beta! It's humans! A whole bunch of them! They've landed on the far side, and they're disembarking from their spaceship!\"\n\nGarbabah's three hearts started beating faster. Humans, here?\n\n\"Are you sure? We're still a good distance away from Mars! They aren't supposed to have the technology to be here!\"\n\n\"I think the intel's wrong! I saw their ship blast off from Earth, not Mars!\"\n\n\"Earth? That piece of junk planet?\" Garbabah's mind whirled, trying to make sense of it all. One eye though was still firmly fixed on the freshly prepared tea before him, which was cooling way too quickly in this thin atmosphere. This unforeseeen interruption to his beloved teatime was doing little for his fraying patience. \n\n\"And Sir? There's a further... complication...\"\n\n\"Spit it out then, Merigoldbah!\"\n\n\"I think... I think they saw me, Sir. I immediately put on my disguise, but I'm quite sure they were pointing at me when they were going into a right frenzy!\"\n\nThe sweat beaded on Garbabah's foreheads. Of all the instructions they were given, foremost had been the High Commander's stern reminder not to let the humans find out about them - Garbabah couldn't remember the specifics, but it had something to do with preserving the cultral integrity of the humans, so that they could develop naturally at the pace deemed suitable by the Galactic Society of Natural Development. \n\nPenalties for breaches included the amputation of taste buds, so that future teatimes would never taste the same. \n\n\"Show me your disguise again, Merigoldbah! Did you wear it wrong?\"\n\nMerigold obediently flipped the switch on her utility belt, which immediately turned her skin a vibrant red. A large pompom in the shape and hue of a golden starflower (like the sunflowers on Earth, only ten feet wide in diameter) sprouted above Merigold's head, obscuring her features. \n\n\"Strange... Your disguise is working as intended. These are the exact colours and shapes which, as Intel informed us, humans cannot discern at all. You sure they saw you?\"\n\nGarbabah's answer came in the form of furious radio activity which he sensed coming from the north. Swivelling towards the source of the interference, he saw for himself the gaggle of humans, pointing their primitive cameras at them, gesticulating wildly.\n\n\"Sir? My translator's picking up what they are saying... something about how we are ready to attack Earth...\"\n\n\"Attack Earth? What utter nonsense? Whatever would give them that idea?\"\n\n\"It's your teatime, Sir! They think it advanced weaponry, which we will use to rain biological hell upon Earth!\"\n\nIt was true that the scones which his mum had baked for him often disagreed with his digestive system, leading to a flatulence which his friends termed 'lethal', but Garbabah hardly thought that deserving of the vitriol coming from the humans. They were even baked in his favourite shape too, a single circle overlaid with three other half-crescents, the galactic symbol for peace.\n\n\"Merigoldbah, it looks like we have no choice. Prepare the memory rays, we're going to wipe every single bit of evidence of us here from their minds.\"\n\n\"What about their cameras, Sir? Our memory rays won't work on those!\"\n\n\"Destroy everything, then call Headquarters. I'm sure they have stock footage of an uneventful human landing on the moon for situations just like this.\"\n\nAs Merigold scurried away to do his bidding, and the humans continued wildly flailing about in excitement, Garbabah grimly bit into one of his scones, trying his best to salvage this utterly dismal afternoon.\n\nThe scone, as he had feared, was already cold.\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny "
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wow I'm stupid, meant to put that there a murderer with you lol
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[WP] You're trapped in a Toys r Us from midnight to 8AM and you can only protect yourself using what's in the store.
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[
"Unicorns are fucking dangerous. No, not the supposedly real kind, but the plastic figures that you occasionally give to children before pulling it out of their hands before they try to eat it. The plastic horns on those things are sharp, especially those from the \"Wondertainment\" brand. Being locked in a Toys R' Us with a murderer isn't much better. As they chased behind me, I threw a mixture of Jacks and Marbles at them, hoping that it would trip them up. The psycho just stopped and stepped around them. Damn! I had spent 10 minutes filling a Dora backpack with that stuff. Time to bring out the big guns. Out of my bag, I pull a Lego Death Star set and rip open the bags, throwing some at the guy chasing me. Some I throw on the ground. This stopped him for a bit until he stepped over them. I guess I had to confront him. I pulled out a lightsaber from my pocket, turning it on with a loud \"WOOSH\". We dueled for a few minutes until his knife broke my lightsaber. Cheap Chinese bullshit. As he charged at me, I pulled a unicorn doll out of my pocket and instinctively pointed it at his neck. He tripped trying to stop himself, the horn of the unicorn piercing his neck. As my opponent bled out, I checked my new toy at the cash register: One bloodstained Unicron toy.",
"\"Attention customers, Toys-R-Us is closing in 5 minutes.\" Did they think I was really gonna listen? Stupid system! Thinking I'm just gonna walk out with other abiding parents and their kids. Yeah right! As I hide behind the bikes and tricycles, the lights go out. Security guards walk by. Luckily for me, these fatties can't tell a rock from a donut! I turn on my camera and start talking in murmurs. \"Hey what's up guys, it's [redacted] here with another video! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M DOING RIGHT NOW! I'M HIDING IN TOYS-R-US FOR 8 HOURS!!!! CRAZY RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!\" I love milking my audience for money. It's like stealing money from a blind people fundraiser!\n\n(This is my first time writing, tell me what you think. Thanks!)"
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[WP] Your only superpower is to inherently know precisely what superpowers and skills other people have.
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[
"If the girl across the study area was trying to be subtle, she wasn’t doing a very good job. Lisa had noticed her since she entered the university library. The girl kept stealing glances over the magazine she was reading and she even switched seats when someone else had sat in her line of view of Lisa. Lisa ranked a solid hetero on the Kinsey Scale, but it would be a lie to say she wasn’t flattered. The other girl was close to Lisa’s age - late teens, maybe early twenties - and very pretty. She had chin length red hair and big hazel eyes flocked by black winged eyeliner. Freckles dotted her small nose, but in a completely unfair amount for a redhead to have. *She must stay out of the sun,* Lisa thought. The girl wore a vintage beige cloche that Lisa wished she could pull off herself. It was paired with an equally vintage looking blue dress. She felt the entire look was very “Mad Men.”\n\n\nLisa decided it would be better and less uncomfortable if she just ignored the other girl’s strange behavior. She forced herself to look down at the textbook she was reading. After all, she had specifically come to the library so that she could focus on ingesting this chapter for polysci. It was a particularly dense passage. In fact, she caught herself half a page down without a clue what she had just read. Too distracted. She gave an exasperated sigh and glanced up - only momentarily - before returning back to where she had started.\n\n*Wait,* Lisa thought, *Did she move up to a closer table?* Lisa tried to recall what she had just seen. *I can’t just look up. She’ll notice I noticed...I’ll just casually get something from my purse and survey the room as I do.* She lifted her eyes from her book, swept the room, and then planted them in the inside of her purse.\n\n\n*Yes. She definitely moved up to a new table. Now to pretend I needed something in my purse. My phone is in my lap. My headphones are in...How about a pen?* She pulled it out and clicked it open. *Yes, a pen is a normal thing to need.* So, from her purse, she did a second sweep and landed back on the book. She scribbled her initials in the margin to make it look like she truly needed to use the pen. *Good, now back to reading.* Two more paragraphs with nothing absorbed. \n\nShe stole a quick glance up. The other girl had moved once more. Now she was sitting at Lisa’s table, directly across from her. Lisa stifled a little yelp. A few people turned to look at the pair. It was supposed to be a “group study” area, but Lisa was particularly sensitive about this sort of thing and she was instantly mortified at herself.\n\n“I’m sorry!” the girl whispered, waving her hands around. Lisa popped out her earbuds. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” she giggled.\n\nLisa laughed back, half nervous, half genuine. Well, maybe one third genuine. \n\n“I’m Cami. Cameron Shooter?” For some reason it was a question.\n\n“I’m Lisa Rhodes,” Lisa offered. She kept her eyes on the other patrons, worried they’d be disturbed by the conversation.\n\n“Um,” Cami bit her lower lip in an embarrassed grin, \"We've met before, right?\"\n\nLisa, still intent on being polite, gave a confused smile and shook her head, \"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Ever been to Maryland?\" Cami asked. She suddenly got up and swooped around to sit on Lisa’s side of the table. Lisa was determined to be unfussed by Cami’s casualness.\n\n“No,” she answered, “Did you go to GHS in Galloway?” \n\n\"No, no,\" Lisa could tell Cami was really racking her brain, \"That's not it. This is my first time in Vermont.”\n\n“Well, I’ve been here most of my life,” Lisa laughed and gave a shrug, “Guess I just have one of those faces!”\n\nCami clasped her hands and put them under her chin. Her lips grew taut and her eyes squinted closed as she clearly had a small but intense internal debate.\n\n\"Okay,\" she said finally. Returning her hands to her lap and taking a few deep breaths, “This is weird, but stay with me, um,” Cami put her hand on the back of Lisa’s seat and turned to face her, “I dream about you once in a while. You suppose that means anything?”\n\nThe statement was so unexpected that she was had a hard time figuring out how she felt about it. On some level, she felt offended or violated, but another part of her told her that feeling that way was stupid. \n\nFollowing that non-conclusion, Lisa made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, “I mean, yeah, that’s sort of weird, um,” she tried to gather her thoughts, “Like, dream how?”\n\n“Sometimes I see you and sometimes I just hear your voice.” Cami looked too earnest for Lisa’s liking. It was unsettling to hear someone talk about something like this. She felt this would be an appropriate time to make an exit. She pushed her chair back and began to stand.\n\n“Okay, well, I’m sure you’re just misremembering, or maybe we have met before,” Lisa forced what she hoped would sound like a casual laugh, “Anyhow, I’ve got to get to class an--”\n\n“Wait!” Cami interrupted in a voice that was definitely too loud for their location. Stares made Lisa’s face grow hot and drove her to sit back down. Cami held out a clenched fist, a postcard bowing in its grasp, “Is this yours?”\n\nLisa stopped breathing. That was hers. She’d mailed it to PostSecret just a few weeks ago. She recognized her living room; her coffee table; her bright blue mug; and her own handwriting scrawled in silver Sharpie: \n> \n> “Yesterday, I moved this mug across the table without touching it.”\n\nCami didn’t wait for an answer, “In my dreams, you’re sitting in this room,” she handed the card over to Lisa, whose hands felt barely capable of holding its weight, “You say this. Over and over. Sometimes you sound worried, other times you sound excited, but it’s all you ever say.”\n\nLisa wasn’t sure what to say. She thought she was nodding at Cami, but it was hard to be sure. Everything felt like they were underwater: sounds were muffled; her vision didn’t seem straight on; when was the last time she had taken a breath? *Oh no,* she realized a second too late, *I’m fainting.*",
"I crept through the shadows of the alley, regulating my breath and slowly racking the slide on my V70, chambering two rounds with an almost inaudible click. The trash fire flickered and altered the dancing shadows on the brick walls around me, threatening to reveal my presence. It didn't matter. I would be close enough to do my job before I was discovered.\n\nA hand grabbed my foot, shooting out from a pile of newspapers. I kicked it away, causing it's owner to yelp audibly and sit up, sending a cascade of rumpled paper to flutter around us. My target rocked back from the fire and scrambled to her feet, eyes wide.\n\n*Shit.* My outfit was nigh invisible in the dark, but once anyone caught a glimpse of it, their first instinct would be to run. I was decked out in all black, a skin-tight outfit that even included a mask with no eyes. \n\n\"Food, got any food?\" The drunkard from under the newspapers looked around, still bewildered. I contemplated putting both rounds in him instead for spoiling my surprise, though the irony did not escape me. The poor fellow was likely as much a victim of my target's kind as I was, left homeless by the actions of those with power. \n\nIt was that instant that my target saw my gun. Her already wide eyes shot to it, then to my face, and her button nose quivered. I couldn't feel her psychic assault, but I felt the neuro disruptors at my temple whir to life, breaking apart her attack. I leveled my gun at her. \n\nTamara Johnson. Level 3 Psychic. Age 12. Orders to terminate on sight. \n\nMy hand wavered, threatening to pull my shot wide. She just stood there now, staring, her short black hair matted to her face. Those eyes just stared right at me, realizing the futility of running, though I desperately wished she would. It was harder this way, with my targets looking right at me, asking why, trying to make some sense of it all before I pulled the trigger.\n\n*Pop*.\n\nI stopped trying to explain it to them long ago. They were a scourge on the Earth, with their superpowers, their arrogance, and their lack of self-control. Entire cities burned in their wake, wiping out entire families with no more than a thought about what their actions had caused. Only I had been blessed with the ability to seek them out, to know who they are even in their private moments.\n\nOnly I could put an end to their plague upon this Earth.\n\n---\n\n[/r/intotheslushpile](https://www.reddit.com/r/intotheslushpile/)"
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